#I can almost guarantee that if your child/very close family member killed someone you wouldn’t want the state to put them to death

[16sundayss]

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[blissfulalchemist]

A Chance for Faith Ch.10

Hello there all! I have another chapter! This is a direct follow up to chapter 7 “Finding You”. This piece was intended to be a few prompts that just all started to fit together into what we have now. So @unleashed111​ and @jedi-mabari​ thank you for your patience and I hope that I could deliver on the prompt requests. 

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: There is a nsfw(ish?) bit near the end of the piece. Alcohol use and minor drug use.

Ao3

The tears that welled up in her jade green eyes cause his heart rate to increase, while the hand that reaches out to him sends him stumbling back a few steps. His back hits the counter, fingers gripping tight to the edge of it, giving a small shake of his head. She frowns, taking another step closer to him. He panics and slaps the money on the counter, it should be enough, mumbling for the attendant to keep the change. Chance’s knuckles burn white gripping the crate as he pushes past the woman, head leaning downward focusing on the bottles. She’s lying, there was no way that was his mom. She’s dead. Long gone.

The slam of the truck door, crate tossed next to him, nails digging into his palm as his hands wrap around the wheel. He’s gasping, chest burning, aching, resting his forehead against the steering wheel. She’s wrong, I’m not her son. I’m not her son, he repeats. His jaw tightens as his hands start to relax enough to grab the first bottle, its cap twisting off with ease. There’s no burn from the vodka as he makes his way through almost a quarter of the bottle. His eyes land on the woman as she works her way through the store, even from this distance he can see that the clothing identifies her as a member that lives on the compound. They are some of the most loyal, the ones that had the most faith, and were guaranteed a spot in New Eden so Joseph wanted to keep them close. Many of those people were from the days at the warehouse in Georgia and the lack of glassy eyes….She’s one of the originals, the ones that had joined somewhere along the road to Hope County. 

Those eyes….something about those eyes….

She says his eyes remind her of her grandmother’s eyes. A good woman and someone she’d have loved to have met Chance had she’d not passed just the year before. I think the jade will darken as he gets older, taking after the man Andi thinks is his father. 

“January twenty-fifth, nineteen ninety-four,” he mumbled, watching as the door opened and the woman moved to the standardized beige truck of the peggies. Chance took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, “Worst case is that she’s just confused,” Wrong! Worst case is a trap that’ll get you killed. As if it really mattered anymore. There really wasn’t anything more that could make his life worse. “Fuck it,” Chance stepped out of the car, jogging up to catch the woman before she drove off. Her eyes lit up, a smile crossing her features as she met his eyes again. He kept his distance, arms crossed with his back straight, “Look, for all I know you have me confused with someone else.”

She shook her head, “I’m positive that I don’t.”

He suppressed the eye roll, choosing to narrow them, “Either way, I guess it doesn’t hurt to talk to you at the very least.” 

“Really?” She gasped, eyes going wide, “You’re willing to talk to me?”

Chance gave a shrug, “Yeah. Why not.” 

She straightened out her smile only growing, “Well we should talk in a more private setting, so I’ll follow you.”

Chance gave a slow nod, “Right….you follow me,” To some destination I haven’t even thought of. He made it back into the truck, pulling out of the gas station watching through the mirror as she pulled out behind him. Home was out of the question, some random field wasn’t a good idea with how exposed it was, most buildings near here were boarded up and contained who knew what. Leave it to me to not have a plan, he thought as he scanned the road and area ahead of him. Finally a little farther up ahead on his left the baseball field with old fashioned dugouts, There were worse places to have potentially life changing conversations. 

He slowed to a stop the dust billowing around him and the truck pulling up next to him. His hands shook, stomach turning once the car stopped, how he wished this was an after effect of the alcohol. It was now or never though, and he wanted to pick never. The bottle came to his lips once again, he just needed enough to get himself out of the car. This felt like the stupidest idea he had had since coming back here, hell it probably had to be the worst one in his life. If she was his mom, did she really deserve the time of day? Was she going to just make everything right again? She left him behind….

May 29, 1997

Andi Greene has no more chances. She will never see Chance as long as I can help it.

Twice. Maybe more that his father never found necessary to record, either way that was the last time his dad ever spoke of her. 

Glancing over he caught sight of the woman staring straight ahead, Is she feeling the same as I am?, she was going to find out if this was her child and whether it was him or not in the end, there still had to be some kind of guilt there on her end….right? If it was him though….if she was right….

It couldn’t be, Andi Greene was long dead and gone.

Chance took another deep breath and made his way out to the dugouts, the slamming of a car door following him. The shuffling of the rocks beneath them grating his ear drums as Chance picked the home team. He pointed to the seat further in, “You can have that one,” she gave a nod settling herself, Chance grabbing another. He straddled the foldable metal chair, resting his chin on the back of it, mouth going dry. She stared at him, shifting, hands clasping and unclasping, Chance’s leg bouncing. He cleared his throat, readying to-. 

“So I assume you have a lot of questions for me,” she said rapidly, “Just ask anything you want.”

He tilted his head cocking a brow, “Not really other than what your name is,” Probably should have asked that first, could have saved a bit of trouble.

“Oh. Yes. My name is Andrea Greene, but most everyone used to call me Andi,” Okay maybe it was possible, “And you’re still Chance I see.”

He frowned, “Why would I be going by any other name?”

“Dr. Ruicknar,” her jaw clenched, her eyes closing a moment while taking a deep breath, “well he believed that you should have been named Jason. So I just assumed….”

“Don’t think he ever really tried to change it. Knew that Chance was my name, always has been and always will be.”

She gave a thin smile, “Figures.”

He sat up straighter, thumbs tapping on the back of the metal, “Well a name doesn’t prove much of anything. The kind of stuff you just said is almost common knowledge around here.” Okay maybe the whole potential different name thing isn’t.

“You’re right,” she nodded, “Then ask me something that you think only your mom would know.”

I don’t have too. I can just leave. I never needed her before, “When did you leave me?”

She blinked slowly, looking down to her lap, “Of course, there would be no other question that you’d ask first,” her voice softer. “I always hate to admit this, I mean you’d think,” she gave a weak laugh, her smile thin, “that admitting it in one’s confession and getting it marked on your body would make it easier.” His eyes followed her hand as she rubbed the left side of her chest, she swallowed, “I was selfish, the first time I left, and well I’m sure you know of the second time.” She cleared her throat, sitting straighter, “So, forgive me, you’ll have to be a little more specific I’m afraid.” Chance’s palms began to sweat, words catching in his throat, “Unless you want to know about both,” she paused, looking him up and down. She gave curt nod inhaling, “Probably best you know of both of them. Make life easier for you. When you were three months old I left you with Dr. Ruicknar, back in ninety-four. I really wasn’t ready to be a mom and I-,” her voice cracked, taking a moment to right herself, “I wasn’t ready yet to pick you over my bad habits.”

It lined up with the story Chance had known, but it was hard to tell how much of the truth she was telling. She wouldn’t be trying to hold back her emotions like this if she was lying though….?, “What about the second time,” he asked in a whisper.

She sniffed, clearing her throat, nodding her head, “Right, well I didn’t want to leave you, my son.” A pride came to her eyes as she said those words, the smile falling as she looked away, “The second time I was forced to be away from you.” Andi’s eyes glimmered in the light, stray tears escaping them, the pride gone, “You were only three and we were finally starting to connect. Starting to become a family, you and me.”

Ding, Ding! We have a winner ladies and gentlemen, Chance tried his best to mask the shallowness of his breathing, she was right. She was, is, his mom. “So what happened?”

Andi looked out to the field, jaw tight, her breathing long and purposeful before turning back to Chance, “Dr. Ruicknar happened.” He flinched slightly at the venom in her voice, “He decided that I shouldn’t have you,” she rubbed her chest once again, eyes growing darker, “That I shouldn’t be your mother anymore.” That….doesn’t-. It doesn’t feel right, she crossed her arms, “He had no right to do that, just up and moving taking you with him while I was out of the house.”

Chance shook his head, laughing, “No. No. That’s-that’s not what happened.” The world spun a moment Chance standing too quickly from the chair, “Dad-He’d-. No. He was a good man, he’d never do something like that.”

Andi stood, slowly making her way towards him, “He did though,” her face softened, fingers gently pulling his face to meet hers, “Chance, he just wanted you all for himself. Was so desperate to be a father he spun lie after lie.” He wouldn’t, he always saw the best in people, he desperately wanted to cover his ears, tune out her voice, “To the courts, his friends, father, neighbors, everyone. All so he could make sure that I was out of the picture.”

The scar on the back of his neck burned, god he needed another drink, “If he wanted you out of the picture it was for good reason,” It’s all bullshit. Dad wouldn’t have lied, he always went for the truth.

“It’s the truth, Chance,” she looked evenly into his eyes, “Think about the Jessop girl. He planned to take her in, despite the fact that she already had a family.”

“Rachel has nothing to do with this,” Chance growled, stepping back shaking his head, “And even if she did-. No.” He turned away from her, “No, I’m not gonna get wrapped up in your little game or whatever it is you’re doing.” I just need to get out of here, It was stupid to give a woman that abandoned him twice the time of day.

“I’m not playing any games with you, Chance,” she followed after him, “I’m telling you the truth! You deserve to know the kind of man Dr. Ruicknar was.”

“Oh, fuck off! I promise you dad had his reasons,” Andi Greene has no more chances, “He was a good man and you’re lying to me!”

“I’m not,” he jumped inside the truck, as her hand reached into her pocket, “Look!” Andi held up a photo, gripping onto the door, another in her other hand. Chance stopped taking in the weathered photo a thin white line down the center from years of folding and unfolding, the picture showcasing a young woman and small boy. “This is you and me,” her voice cracking, “the day before he took you away from me.” She evened out her breathing as she made sure the photo was always at eye level, “We were happy, Chance. I was only staying with him to get back on my feet so I could give you the life you deserved.” 

His hands shook, snatching the photo from her hand, focusing solely on the people within it. The woman looked to be in her early twenties, her smile big as her arms encircled the young boy. His hair looked to be a mess, curls unable to stay in place, he held out a stuffed dinosaur, the one from the museum not too far from the university campus, the smile lopsided but green eyes lit up with excitement. Chance suppressed the urge to rub the back of his neck, the tingling from the scar getting worse. He can’t recall any sort of memory looking at the picture, just that he remembered sleeping with that dinosaur every night, clinging to it becoming upset when he couldn’t sleep with it one night. Chance can recall the vague memories of trying to sleep, waking in a scare, running to his father still up grading tests, and falling asleep at the table in his lap. 

“Did he ever talk about me, Chance?” Her words brought a lump to his throat, “Or even your grandfather? Either of them?”

“No,” he ground out, hanging his head.

Andi placed a hand on his shoulder, “Now you see why. They shouldn’t have done what they did, separating us like that.” She handed over the second picture, this one more weathered than the last, the color starting to fade, “But we’re together now. We can make up for the lost time.”

This picture was a baby picture one that he fuzzily recalled seeing once before, I can’t-. I can’t think properly, “This-. You have to know that this is a lot to take in.”

She placed a hand on his cheek, wiping away at the few tears falling without his knowledge or permission, “I know. I know it is, but I’ve missed you, my boy. My son.” Her smile….it's hard for him to find anything insincere about it. Her words….truth, mostly, possibly all of it. She takes a deep breath, “My Chance, I’ve missed you so much.” He doesn’t respond, how can he? It’s all too much at once. Chance turns away from her shaking his head, she swallows, nodding away the tears, “I’ve waited this long for you to return to me and I can wait a little longer for you to get your mind wrapped around this.”

This all had to be a lie, a hallucination like the ones Faith’s put me in, Her warm hands against his skin speak otherwise. There’s a comfort in her touch, one he fears, and if he lets himself feel it, embrace it even a little, he’ll just fall right into that comfort never wanting to leave. Maybe I’m already too far gone, all of this too reminiscent of those first encounters with Faith. He kept thinking it was just the drugs, Just like how it has to be the alcohol now, only to soon realize that it was something real. Those shadows of memories of a life he loved and wanted to go back to, back when things still made sense in the world. 

That ache, that never ending ache in his chest seemed to be disappearing now as he stayed letting her hold his hand. Calling him, calling him to seek out that baser comfort of being embraced by one’s caregiver. His chemistry begging, begging, begging for those chemicals tattooed on his hand to be activated within Andi so that he may in turn gain the serotonin lost over the years. That scar burns. Family, some kind of family, some kind of real family. The last of it right here before him.

The story she told, truth to it, yes, something just feeling….off. He rubbed the back of his neck, nails digging into that damn scar, he just needed to tear it off. The familiarity of how she told it….

He needed to go. Too much. Terrible idea. Nothing has been gained from it. Nothing….lies. So many of them still wrapped in some kind of truth. The only other people to bring any kind of perspective on them long gone. 

“I’ve-. I gotta go,” Chance mumbled, pictures in hand, throwing the truck into drive, dust kicking up. Home, just go home, he repeated, the clinking of the bottles keeping time. Liar, liar, liar! She had to be lying. He was a good man, that’s what he remembered. He was a good man that didn’t just do things without good reason. Right? No, that was correct, it's his truth, the one he knows, the one he has to believe….it's the one he’s known his whole life. 

There’s a blare of a horn, Chance swerving to the other side of the road, slamming the brakes. He looks up to the cars passing by, all of them belong to locals, Chance’s teeth grind, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He needs to get home, needs to clear his head, get back to that state of….

One more stop. 

If he’s right about this being a hallucination or his brain playing tricks on him then having some of it won’t do anything to him. It won’t affect him. Hell it probably would help him with making the world, his world, as it should have been. Shouldn’t be too hard to find, just need to go to one of those shrines, they’ll be doing their duty of converting all that they can. Two miles. I’m pretty sure there’s one two miles from here.

He takes a long drink from the vodka, grabbing the handgun from under the passenger seat. The door slams and the two, Wait there’s one in the water, the three peggies look up at him, guns aimed. Come at me, His gun already out, the first shots shaky in their aim but effective to bring the two down, Civilian injured, but just in the arm. The one in the water rushes at him, fumbling for the gun on her back, Lucky me, one shot and a splash. Not even a second look at those he’s just rescued, picking up one of the member’s canteen filling it from the open barrel. Back on the road and home before he knew it….could even process it.

Crate placed on the counter, the bottle from the car halfway filled, Chance pouring in some of the Bliss, the liquid taking on a faint green tint. He gives it a good shake before drinking once more. In a near instant the shaking finally stops, breathing slowed, warmth flooding to his limbs once more. He lets his eyes open, finding the world around him….

clear….

peaceful….

Beautiful.

This is what he needed. This is what was going to help him. He just needed to think and why not just think in a place that was out of reality. “Rest.” He needed that too, Should do that first, he thought as more of the bottle disappeared letting himself fall onto the sofa. Never had it felt softer, more inviting. Singing, distant, clear, words he knew all from her voice. “Where are you,” the whisper echoing in the open expanse of….well where he was. “Faith,” he breathed out, “I need you,” his eyes closed with the feeling of her fingers brushing against his skin. Her voice closer now, lulling him to sleep, “Don’t leave me,” he pleaded.

“We won’t,” she whispered, lips cold as they pressed to his cheek….

“Just rest.”

As quickly as Chance landed in a dreamless sleep the world moved suddenly. Sharply. His head groggy as his eyes struggled to focus, stomach starting to roll. One more drink, he can wake up with another drink. The bottle felt lighter than when he laid down, the sky darker, Didn’t mean to rest that long. A hand stopped the bottle from reaching his lips, his eyes turning slowly to meet her blue-green eyes, a smile spreading on his face. “You’re still here,” he whispered, reaching out for her.

Faith nodded, placing his hand back on the sofa, “I told you I’d come back to check on you.” Her eyes looked to the bottle in his hand solemnly taking it in, her frown only growing, “How are you feeling today?” She swept a hand over his forehead, the curls clinging to the sweat on his brow, “It looks like you spent most of it sleeping.”

He shook his head, “I didn’t sleep,” she didn’t stop him as he moved to take another drink, “I was thinking.”

Faith tilted her head, “Oh? What were you thinking about,” her voice soft, softer than the last time she spoke to him. They fought? Yeah we did. We did and she came back?, “Chance?” 

“Hmm, oh,” his eyes focused back on the room around her, “Her.”

Dark blonde eyebrows knitted together as she stared, “Her, who?”

“Mom.”

She flinched, opening her mouth a second before closing it again. She bit her lower lip, thinking for a moment, looking at her hands folded in her lap. “Your….mom,” he nodded, “Why? Are you wanting to find her?”

Chance shook his head, sitting up, “Don’t need too. She found me.” The world spun slightly, taking another drink to steady it.

“She….found you,” Faith moved to sit on the coffee table.

Chance nodded, “Yep. ya’know I’m sure you’ve met her. She’s been with you all for a long time.” He looked around the room, tints of green pressing through the darkness outside his windows, “Wait.” Faith looked up, fingers still holding her chin, “You think she’ll show up here?”

“At your house?” She asked, raising a brow.

“No, in the Bliss. In that big field you showed me,” he walked to the window by the door, “This house has to be there right? She could come and end up finding me again.”

“That’s-.” She shook her head, moving to stand next to him, “There’s no possibility of that happening,” Faith assured, her hand gently touching his shoulder.

“Your hands,” he placed a hand over hers, “Your touch,” Chance rubbed circles on the top of her wrist, “it’s so warm.” He stared down at it a moment more before he dropped it, walking to the canteen on the counter, testing the weight, “I didn’t take too much did I?”

Faith took the container from him, setting it back down, “No, you didn’t Chance.”

“Then why do you feel so warm? So….,” his fingertips ran down her cheek, neck, and collar bone, the lace scratchy against them, “Real.”

Her eyes searched his face, brow knitting together, “Because I am, Chance. You didn’t take enough to last more than a few hours.” 

He frowned looking at the ground shifting, “Is that why my chest is starting to feel empty again?” Chance rubbed his chest, feeling the raised letters beneath his shirt, looking at Faith through his lashes.

The frown she wore, eyes sympathetic, answered enough for him. “You said you met your mom,” she started, “Is that why you-?”

“Started drinking again,” he finished, scoffing, shaking his head, “No. It all happened just a few hours ago.”

Her eyes widened, “And how did it go?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?” The ache, the edges of the hole he could never close started to burn. That damn scar, all of them, but mostly the one on his neck and spread across his chest itched and burned.

“I-,” her eyes flicked to the hands at his side, one gripping the glass bottle the other balled into a fist, both sporting white knuckles. “I- Well I was just making conversation,” she smiled, her voice lighter, teasing with laughter, “Seems like we never just talk anymore, my White Knight.”

He blinked, locking his gaze with hers for a moment. He gave a quick shrug, “Huh. Guess you’re right.” Chance took another sip, rocking back on his heels, words starting to slur, “Never had much to talk about after a while.”

“Oh,” her smile fell for a fraction of a second, shaking her body out, “Well, there’s been some new developments it seems.” Easy, always easy to talk to, Chance’s smile returns, I can tell her anything.

“Sure,” he finished off the last of the bottle, Faith’s soft smile ever present as she watched him move, eyes turning sad. He grabbed another bottle, opening it quickly, “But she could be….well hmm I don’t think she’s really my mom.” He strode past her reaching for the photos on the coffee table, feet starting to tangle, “I know I’ve seen this one before somewhere,” he held up the baby picture, Faith tilting her head taking it from him. “I just can’t seem to place it yet. There’s just too,” he waved a hand over his head, “Just too much going on in my mind to find it.” 

She flips the photo over, “I see,” squinting her eyes, fuzzy memories she can’t quite reach, play out. A simple handmade shelter in the woods and a manila folder.

Chance holds up the second one, “This one I’ve never seen before,” Faith’s eyes take it in, glancing between his eyes and the one on the small boy’s. It’s him, she’d know his eyes anywhere now. He taps it, “That dino toy though,” he laughs to himself, “I had one just like it.”

Another drink down, Faith starts walking around him, fingertips running along his shoulders, “So who do you think she is?” God, how did she manage to make her voice sound like a song. She takes the second photo placing them on the table once more.

“A trick,” he shrugs, “Maybe I just got stuck in the Bliss and there’s no coming out of it for me.”

She smirks, “Or?”

“Or some trick of your brothers’,” he laughs with a snort, “Probably Sunglasses, wants to get me to join you all.” She tilts her head, “Joseph said it wasn’t too late for me.”

“Are you really considering the offer,” her smile grows, “After all this time? All this protest and resistance, you’d really join the faith?” His eyes follow every movement of hers, contemplating if he should ask for more from her. Her whispered words in his ear brings him back, “Join us in creating a New Eden?”

“I-,” he stops, the questions sinking in. He didn’t believe, would never believe in some higher power, especially one coming from Joseph. That wasn’t the only reason why people joined religions, or why one would stay…., “No. No, I’m not considering it, just trying to think like you do.”

She hums, “You hesitated,” Faith says as she sits on the back of the sofa, ankles crossed, “Normally you never hesitate.”

“This isn’t some therapy session, Faith,” he snaps rolling his eyes, another swig of the bottle following, “No need to look that deep into it.” That woman’s wrong, she’s wrong. Just lying, just a trick.

“Then what would you rather do?” Faith smirks, the concern growing in her eyes, “Anything you want.”

He moves closer grabbing her hand, still warm, chest starting to feel hollow while the rest of him feels some kind of electricity. Why did they ever start this? Why did he ever start to let himself fall for someone that could also be a dream at any given moment? There was never a real good way to tell the difference anymore, was there? How many times did he find himself here with her like this? 

He set the bottle down letting his now free hand run along her jawline and neck slowly, pausing where he could feel her pulse the best. He lets go of her hand placing it on her waist, feeling as her heartbeat increases.

“Real or not real,” he whispers, Please say-.

She takes hold of the hand resting along her collarbone bringing it to her cheek. smiling, “Real.” His breath catches, the pleas he had for her once it looked like neither were going to come back to the other, held back. She frowns, pushing some of his hair back, “Do you feel unreal, Chance? Or like none of this is real?”

He cast his eyes down, Can’t ever hide my thoughts from you, “I wonder sometimes,” the hand on her waist running farther along the curve of her, “Maybe this place is just some kind of afterlife.” He sighs, eyes slow to meet hers once again, “I just couldn’t take it anymore one day. Or they finally got me,” he’s spinning, falling, the longer he stares into her eyes, “But I just-Faith I don’t feel like myself anymore. I never do-.”

“Until that bottle is gone,” she finishes softly, Chance giving a small nod, shutting back the tears threatening to fall and close his throat. “Chance,” he opened his eyes to her sympathetic face, “What would happen if you felt like yourself again? Even just for a little bit.”

“Could think through everything,” he whispers, “The whole world….I can make sense of it all.”

“You think you’d have the answers you need,” she guided him closer to her, “The ones you want.” Chance nodded, resting his forehead against hers. If she was real then he needed to have this moment with her. Just needed to have her, the real her, the one that didn’t get angry when he’d refer to her as Rachel every now and again. Faith nodded, “Then how can I-?”

“Touch me,” his response was fast, Faith blinking in surprise. He took a deep breath, the smell of her flowers with undertones of fresh rain giving him comfort. This had to be the real her, had to be, “Just-. I need to feel….,” Real, alive, close, comfort, you, “Feel something other than….”

His words trailed off, Faith giving him a moment before finishing his thought, “Other than the confusion and pain?” He stayed silent, she nodded in understanding, “Is this what you need to help you,” her fingers started to play with the edge of his jeans, the bare skin she touched warming beneath it, She missed me too, didn’t she? 

He tilted her chin to take in her face, “It would be a start I think.” There just above her eyebrow, the faint scar from those early days of the reaping, Been awhile since I’ve seen that on her, “But only if you’re really here, really you.”

She frowned, eyes misting, “Of course it's me, Chance,” she pleaded, “I told you last night that I’d come back to check on you.”

He brushed a thumb over the scar, “Tell me how you got this then.”

She tilted her head, cocking a brow, before exhaling slowly, “I got it because you,” she poked his chest, “got a grenade thrown at me.” She gave a small smile at the memory passing through the two of them, “I still don’t forgive you for threatening to cut my hair that day.”

Chance couldn’t help but chuckle, “I was really looking forward to adding Hairstylist next to sacrificial lamb on my resume.” She laughed, the melody one he could never forget, Real. This is real, “Besides I saved your life that day.”

“Again, only after you put me in danger in the first place.” Her fingers traced along the muscle and bone of his hips, “It was also when you pointed out the obvious point I had been ignoring.” His mind wadded through the memories, the feelings vague, muted by the liquor taking hold of him, “I tried, well try, to ignore the fact that I’m so easily replaceable.”

“Oh,” he looks to his feet, “I’m still sorry. It was a low blow.”

Faith shook her head, “You were right though.” Her eyes grew distant, hands stopping along his hips, “I used to think she was meant to replace me, you know.”

It took a moment for the name to come up, or well the name Faith knew her by, “Mary? Your sister?”

She nodded, eyes cast down, “Some days I wish I could have been more genuine in my kindness rather than keeping her close to keep her from replacing me. Or at least had more time to be genuine,” her voice cracks, “She always was to me.” 

Chance ran his thumb along her cheek catching the few falling tears, “It weighs on you,” he started softly, “Those feelings of not being able to say goodbye, to make sure that the person knows how you feel about them,” Even if they are still alive. 

She pulled him closer, face pressed into his chest, “You won’t just leave without letting me have a goodbye, right?”

I can try, his eyes glanced down to the bottle at his feet, I want a little more. Need a little more. “Not if I can help it. Even if,” he looked up at the ceiling, letting out a sigh, “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but even if ghosts and the afterlife turn out to be real, I’ll make sure you can have a nice goodbye.”

Her eyes widened at the admission, “Must really care about me to make that kind of promise.”

Chance looked back into her eyes, mind slipping into the blue of them easily, pushing some of her hair back, “I-. Rach-.” He took a breath to steady himself, her grip on him making it harder to grab for the bottle, “Faith I love you.” 

Faith doesn’t say anything, eyes searching his face, his heart falling with each beat of his heart. Say something….anything. Say it back, the lump forming in his throat. 

This was a mistake. He shakes his head, “Look jus-just forget it. Forget I said anything.” He turned away, cheeks starting to burn, stomach turning as he grabbed the bottle stepping away from her. 

She grabs onto his hand, “Chance wait.” She jumped down walking closer to him, arms wrapping around him, kissing his cheek, “I know you do.”

“Do you just not feel the same?” His whispered voice hesitating with each syllable, “That why you won’t say it back?”

“Chance,” Faith closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, “I’d rather hear those words come from a sober mouth,” she laced her fingers with his, “You’re not the only one that has trouble distinguishing dreams from reality.”

He looked over his shoulder, the windows still grasping onto that green fog, “What do we do then, if neither of us can trust in what we see and hear? If we feel we can’t even trust the validity of our feelings?”

“Exist.” 

“In this moment,” she smiled, taking the bottle from him, “We meet in the middle.” She took a long drink, nose wrinkling from the burn, “Or well I meet you there, and then we just exist in the other’s presence.”

He blinked, eyes wide, “You’d stay the whole night?”

She smiled, giving a small nod, “Just like I used too.”

“The nights where we just laid in bed-.”

“And talked, with my skin pressed to yours-.”

“Until the whole world was just you and me-.”

“The orange of the sun dispelling the barriers we’d set up-.”

“Our call to return to a world where-.”

 “Neither of us really belong anymore.”

 She brushed some of his hair back, unable to break free of his green eyes, his hands resting on her hips, breathing even once again. He was the first to move, guiding them to the bedroom, pulling the zipper of her dress down once in the doorway of his room. Faith let it fall, pulling his shirt over his head. Chance quick in removing the rest of his clothing as she followed his lead, sliding under the covers with ease. 

Maybe it was the time they had spent apart or the feeling of being unreal that changed their thought process. They were only meant to lie there feeling the other close to them, not having their lips crash together, hands tangling in each other’s hair, and their hearts starting to race. He pulled her leg around him making sure it was secured around his hip before moving his lips down her jaw and neck. She let out a small gasp as he started to kiss across her chest.

Her fingers grasp at his hair, pulling his lips back to hers as he lays her on her back. She rolls her hips to meet his gaining whatever friction she can, Chance moaning into their kiss, hands gliding down her body. Fingertips trace the scarred sin before running up her body once again, pulling one of her arms away from him, lacing their fingers together, holding it down on the bed. She gives the lightest of pushes on his shoulders, Chance following her thoughts kissing down her body once more. 

His lips and tongue trace every outline of her, her breathy moans filling the room. The heat radiating off of her only grows the closer he gets to her core. She doesn’t force him back up, doesn’t stop him from starting his act of worship between her thighs. She lets him watch as her back arches, the way her chest moves as her breathing deepens, listening to his name leave her lips as her fingers tangle farther in his curls. This. This is real. This is the woman he’d been letting himself fall for. Not the one who’s been coming to visit almost every night with her song that commands his actions. 

There’s little time to recover when she pulls him back to her lips, the taste of her still lingering. He’s starting to strain, desperate to be connected to her when she pulls away, foreheads still resting against each other. There’s a moment where both catch their breath, Faith whispering, “I want you….,” her fingers running down the nape of his neck. 

“I need you,” they say together. 

“All of you,” he continues, “Every part of you.” His eyes travel down her body, every scar, curve, flaw traced and memorized, “For as long as I can have you.”

She traces a fire along his chest, letting out a ragged breath rolling her hips, “Let’s start with now,” she whispers, their bodies interlocking with ease. Easy, right, perfectly made for the other. How it all seems so obvious as their hearts beat in perfect rhythm, the slow and purposeful movements eliciting a duet of moans, sighs, and gasps. It's no longer a rage of fire and heat, not like it ever was, it’s slow and calming, always there. 

Equal as Faith easily takes the lead, pushing him onto his back, Chance moaning out her name. His head falls back with a low groan as she starts to move her hips in a circle, nails gripping onto his chest. His hands fall and rise with the curves and dips of her torso, hips bucking to meet her movements. She increases the pace of their movements, Chance gripping onto her hips, both on the precipice of ecstasy, time slowing down around them.

Then all at once the pleasure hits them, engulfs them, their lips crashing together as they ride it out. The high lasting longer than it had before made the two of them work to catch their breaths. They smile, Chance giving a small chuckle giving one more soft kiss every little detail and sensation heightened and solid. They were both here, they both existed at this moment.

They were both alive.

It took a moment for the two to fall into place on the bed, silent as they adapted once more to just feeling the other’s warmth once again. Faith’s fingers traced the scars littering his body, mind searching for something to start with. “You know, I got a glare from John after that day, you know.” 

“What day?” He asked, noticing how she shivered feeling the way Chance’s fingers traced patterns lightly on her skin.

Faith laughed quietly, “The day you first brought me here.” 

“Ah,” he kissed the top of her head, “Why did Fashion Week glare at you?”

Faith smirked, pulling him closer, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how you called him Karen.” He gave a snort holding back his laughter, “I’m serious. The way you said it,” she gave a small shake of her head rolling her eyes, “There was just something funny about it and it kept playing out in my mind during our meeting. He said something that I think was vaguely insulting and the name slipped out when I tried to call him out on it.”

Chance laughed, burying his face in her hair, “Of course he would have to act like a Karen after I graced him with that name.” He looked up to the ceiling, hand moving over the curve of her hip, “I would have loved to see his face as you said it.”

“Maybe someday you’ll be able to,” she looked up, resting her chin on his chest, “once all of this-,” the smile she had starting to fade.

Chance nodded slowly, moving on his side their faces close, “Once all of this is over,” If it ever will be. His lips brushed against hers briefly before placing a light kiss on them, “My day to see Gossip Gabby really appreciate my humor will come. Even if I have to make it so.”

She giggled, “Do you have these nicknames written down so you can just pick from a list?”

Chance placed a hand on her cheek, bringing her lips to his in a deep kiss, forehead pressed to Faith’s when he pulled away. “You’ll never know, Princess.”

[letspurpletogether]

The Guardian || M. Yoongi (M)

Summary: You have never meddled with hybrid affairs, not until the night you find a stray panther hybrid hiding behind some trash containers. 

Genre: hybrid au, romance, dystopian, angst, drama, mild smut.

Pairings: Panther hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Word count: 20k+

Warnings: Assault, mentions of abuse, some past trauma, and persecutions, blood, mentions of violence and death, threats to the reader’s life, mild smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism (kind of ig), masturbation (male). Some fluff along those lines too.

A/N: this used to be a drabble series since I was limited to the mobile app before. I merged the parts together to make this part one of what is going to be a two-shot now. Nothing has changed regarding the plot, just more words.

A thunder cracks the sky in two, making you almost drop the trash bag all over the ground. You take a deep breath, and tighten your grip around the plastic bag. The bakery’s closing time had passed about an hour ago, but it had been raining so heavily that you couldn’t head home just yet. So you decided to stay and start the clean-up you had schedule for tomorrow morning. Rain had subsided enough now for you to take out the trash without getting wet head to toes, but still the chilly weather makes your whole body shiver.

You go down the three cement steps that connect your bakery’s back entrance to the backstreets where all the trash containers are aligned. Carefully, trying to avoid stepping on a puddle you toss the big black bag over the edge of your container and wipe your hands clean on your jeans.

Glancing down at your feet, you notice your untied shoelace. You kneel down and tie them in a quick knot before you stand up again. But it is in that swift motion that your eyes catch the silhouette of something hiding behind the containers. At first, you can’t quite give shape to it. It is like a big dark ball of wet clothes, and you almost think your mind is playing tricks at you when you notice a fluffy tail wrapping around the ball.

You crouch down again to have a better look at it. It looks like a child, no- a person. A person hugging their knees, face hiding in between their arms. But then you remember the tail, and as you see it curling around one of his legs you realize this is an hybrid. And a stray one if he is here in an alley and not inside a shelter.

As your eyes become accustomed to the dim light, you can make out the shape of his head and the pair of round ears on top of a tousled and wet mane of jet black hair. They twitch when you try scurrying between the containers, closer to him.

“Hey there… Are you lost?”

A pair of yellow eyes look back at you alarmed. He hisses, showing off his pointy canines in a threatening gesture. You stumble back, landing on your ass, and palms against the rough ground. Your heart beat furiously inside your chest when you first tried to stand up.

You have never been this close to an hybrid before.

These… humanoid pets as the media called them. They are quite popular among the rich families. You would often seen them strolling around the privileged parts of the city alongside their owners in golden leashes and extravagant clothing when you were making deliveries. The idea of hybrids, of having themㅡa sentient personㅡas a pet to toy around with, had always made you cringe. Was it ethical? Was it right? Where they human? Or just talking animals? People always had different opinions on that matter.

As far as you know the are some non profit organizations advocating for hybrid’s rights. You’d seen their rustic posters on the subway stations, but they weren’t really popular. The media, owned by the big fishes that handled hybrids’ affair and distribution had them labeled as criminals, even terrorists groups sometimes. They accused these activists of spreading lies about the hybrids, misinforming the people and potentially endangering the lives of the creatures and their owners. Just last week on the news channel they broadcasted a story about the fire that destroyed an illegal underground shelter in the outskirts of town and killed ten people. Three hybrids among them.

The local authorities stated the tragedy had happened because the heating system for cold-blooded hybrids quarters had been installed without the normative precautions. After him, the press representative for BioTech Servicesㅡthe biggest company that arranged hybrid distributionㅡDaniel Lee had made a statement. “Let this be a lesson to you all”, he spoke in a stern voice, his thick black eyebrows scowling at the camera as if he was looking straight at you. “You might think you are doing good, but this is what happens when you don’t leave the protection of the hybrid creatures to the competent authorities”.

Hybrids had never interested you apart from the news. While some members of your family like your cousin Mia did want to own an hybrid (and was in a desperate search for funds to acquire the outrageously expensive license that allowed her to purchase one), you yourself had never meddled with hybrid affairs.

Not until tonight, at least.

And there is no doubt that the person in front of you looks very humanㅡexcept when he bared his teeth out and hissed at you.

What is an hybrid doing hiding behind trash containers in this part of the city? You can’t help but wonder. This is far from being the rich part of town. No one in this neighbourhood had the means to owns an hybrid that you know about, and if they do, well… they have it well hidden.

So what can you do about this situation? It isn’t like you can just take him home with you, you don’t have an owner’s license and by the way he reacted probably wouldn’t want to come voluntarily either. You could call BioTech Services but a part of you fears they would start an investigation that would ruin your business.

It had happened before a couple of years ago when a runaway hybrid was found hiding inside the warehouse of a small delivery company. They authorities teared the place apart looking for more runaways and strays, and the business owner was given an unpayable fine. The company closed shortly after that, never been able to recover from the damages caused. You definitely don’t  want that to happen to your store. It’s all you have, it is your life. Your grandma had passed on her apron to you so that you would continue her business and keep the Tradition alive. Tradition is the name under which your nana had opened the pastry shop for the first time over three decades ago.

You can’t risk losing it all because of a stray…

You can also report him to the district pound. But nothing can guarantee that the hybrid is going to stay here until they arrive. Either way, he can’t stay, is too dangerous.

You have to lure him out.

With a plan in mind, you go back inside and grab an old table cloth the hybrid can use to dry himself up and a gray hoodie left behind by your friend Seokjin the last time he was here eating all the strawberry pies. You also make sure to fill a take-out box with some of the leftovers of that day’s production, and the go back outside to give it all to the hybrid.

You step carefully again to the containers, and place the plastic bag with the items in his visual range. You squat down. “I don’t want any trouble, so here. Eat if you want and get cleaned up”. You push the bag closer to him, carefully in case he lashes out again. “You shouldn’t stay here, it’s cold and dirty and it might rain again later tonight. It’s not safe...”.

You wait a few more seconds hoping he would take the bag, but he doesn’t move. Distrusting eyes glaring back at you. There’s nothing else you can do, so you leave the alley to finish closing the store and head back home for the night.

The next following days, you slip back to your usual routine. Wake up early to bake your goodies, open the store, tend to your clients throughout the day. The usual… Except that you made an habit of checking the alley and around the containers every night to make sure the hybrid had really left. And although there were no traces of him anywhere, you did find the makeshift towel you gave him, hanging half-dry from the back door’s handle the day after.

Now, that a couple weeks had passed by, you’d forgotten all about that hybrid incident. Your day goes as usual, smiling to clients, welcoming them to your small world, having them eating your confections. It’s closing time, you are finishing locking up the store and are about leave. You walk home. You always do, your apartment building is only three blocks away from the Tradition, anyway and your neighborhood, albeit modest, had always been safe.

That night, however, the strange feeling that someone is following you assaults your mind halfway home. Even though the streets are empty and the sky was clear. No clouds, no weird shadows creeping through the alleyways. A round yellow moon bathed the city streets with its warm light.

It takes a moment to convince yourself you are just imagining things, that it is all good, that you are fine. That’s until an old man cuts through your path, forcing you to stop in a halt. His eyes are red and sore, and he smells like stale liquor and cigarettes. He asks you for money, and you try to dismiss him by politely “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t have any change in me at the moment”, you say and resume your walk. The sting on your scalp as he yanks you down by the hair takes you by surprise. You immediately cry out in pain, and drop your bag to the ground.

“You fancy bitches are all the same!”, he yells at you, tightening his grip on your hair. “You think you are above me! Huh?! Too good to spare me a glance, sweetheart?!”

Tears are prickling in your eyes. Your heart racing fast in fear, and your knees become weak. “No, please! I don’t- I just…!”. You try to free yourself. However, another pull at your hair has you falling down, your knees scraping on the ground though the fabric of your jeans. You cry for help, and he replies with another tug to your hair.

“Shut the fuck up!”, he barks. “I hate whiny bitches so much”.

That’s when you hear it. A growl, loud and deep like a thunder, coming from somewhere behind your assailant. The man curses and turns around, giving you a chance to slip from his grip just in time to watch as second figure pulls him into the shadows of the nearest alley.

You heard a scream, the tearing of fabric and then just silence. For a moment you can’t move a muscle. The quietness of the night mixed with what just happened overwhelms your senses. You covered your face with one hand as tears are still falling down your cheeks.

“Are you hurt?”, you are startled by a deep voice and your first impulse is to run away. But your legs don’t respond the way you like, and you are stumbling back to the ground.

You curse out loud when a hand reaches out for your shoulder to help you stabilize. You don’t realize this, of course, until he is right in front of you: A young man with amber eyes and dark tousled hair.

He crouches next to you, and you are quickly to recognize the oversized hoodie you gave away to a certain hybrid about two weeks ago. That’s when you raise your head to look at him. The hood covers his ears but you can still tell there was something more than hair behind the gray fabric. To your surprise he doesn’t look dirty, as you would expect from someone who’s been living on the streets. He does smell a little like wet dirt, though but nothing offensive. You glance down at his hands. His nails are pointy and sharp, like claws and his knuckles are purple and bruised.

“Can’t you talk?”, he speaks again, and you are remainded you’ve been staring for too long now.

“S-sorry…”, you mumble and shake your head. “Thank you, I’m okay”. He eyes you suspiciously and you are about to assure him you are perfectly fine again, when he leans closer and sniffs the air around you. “What…?”

“You’re good”, he simply says after that, as if that is enough explanation.He offers you a hand to help you up, and you gladly take it. Your legs are still wobbly and the shock hasn’t completely left you body just yet. “Now go home, human”, he gestures you to leave and hides his hands inside the hoodie’s pocket. You nod, and pick your bag up from the floor. When you turn around to thank him once more, you find an empty sidewalk.

He is gone.

A sense of security immediately washes over you as you reach your building, and step inside the tall brick structure. You greet the door man and take the elevator to the 7th floor where you live. You are still shaken about what just happened, the assailant, the hybrid that came to your rescue. Why would he help you? You wonder. How did he know where to find you? The feeling of being watched…? Was that him? Your restless thoughts invade your sleep that night. You dream about an hybrid boy slipping through your window and watching over your sleep. You dream about a low purr lulling you deep into the dreamland, and the smell of rain and wet dirt.

The next morning, you wake up past six with a sense of not having sleep like this in ages. You feel so light and rested, it actually feels you’re still sleeping. You notice the window to your room still open, didn’t you close it last night before going to bed? 

“I must had left it open…”, you mumble to yourself before getting ready for your day as usual.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind having a free day all to yourself to stay home and watch Netflix in you pajamas. But being sick kind of makes it hard for you to enjoy yourself at home alone. You’ve lived alone for years now, since your grandmother passed. After you graduated from high school, you moved to the city to live with your nana and study culinary arts to be the best pastry chef in town for when the time came for you to take over the Tradition… Speaking of which, you should really phone the shop to see if everything is running smoothly as you friend promised.

Seokjin had sent Rose to cover for you today, and made you promise you’d call him if you needed anything. You and him had been friends since your first day in town. His family owned a few shops by the river a few blocks away from your pastry shop. Seokjin would always stop by to get his mother something and being the social butterfly he still is, he befriended your grandma and you soon after. He was there for you when she passed, stood by your side and helped you will all the funeral arrangements and to reopen the Tradition again once you felt ready.

Seokjin loved to cook, the way his eyes gleamed with excitement whenever he was in the kitchen was something you’d always admired. Whilst his family kind of hoped he would get an office job, stable, ordinary, he decide to pursue his dream of becoming a professional chef. He had his own traditional restaurant downtown, to which Jiwoo served as sommelier after seven; it was quite the fashionable place nowadays, frequented by important businessmen and socialités. The food was amazing truth be told, but there was something else that made Epiphany’s popularity rose like foam on a freshly poured beer, something about Jin and the way he charmed people so easily. His handsome face, his impeccable self-groom, his smile, his jokes. It was his otherworldly skills as a host that drew people back to Epiphany all the time after their first meal.

You kind of envied that sometimes. Nevertheless, you had other type of clients of course. People from around the block, familiar faces you’ve gotten to know for half your life now. Like Mrs. Park, a nice old lady who was the number one fan of your pineapple tarts, or Mr. Caruso who was an art teacher and had gifted one of his beautiful paintings to your grandma once. It hung from your dining room wall, depicting a white rose bouquet on table next to a basket of fresh, red and juicy strawberries. Sometimes they looked so real you had this urge to extend your hand and pick one from the painting. Just like now, you think to yourself as you stare at the painting right across the table.

You are finishing the cup of chamomile tea you brewed yourself after a late breakfast and now you are craving some strawberries. There’s Mrs. Khan’s grocery store is just around the corner. You flounder for a moment if it is worth the risk going out with this weather and your sore throat to only get a box of strawberries. You walk past your living room, to the sliding glass door that heads to a tiny balcony. You don’t open it, though, you just slide the curtains a little to take a peek outside. There are rain clouds coming from the west side of town, opaquing the feeble sunlight that managed to slip pass the cloudy sky. Maybe if you run to the story very quickly you might make it before the it starts pouring. But just as you are about to slip your coat on, you hear the little droplets smashing against the glass panels and the metal railing of the balcony. It’s a soft pitter-patter nothing your umbrella can’t handle. However, much to your dismay as soon as a thunder echoes through the sky, a downpour breaks out, covering the skyline in a gray veil of rain and subsequently trashing completely any plans you have of going out.

With a resigned sigh you plop down onto your couch and search for the tv remote somewhere between the beige cushions to binge watch a whatever Netflix comes up with in your recommendations. After a short selection, you settle down for a baking reality and another cup of tea for the afternoon. The rain continues to pour down as you quickly feel yourself dozing off as the main chef on the tv explains the detailed layered interior of an ovoide cake.

A lighting streaks down, parting the clouds in two. Your dimmed illuminated living room is covered for a second in a blue light. But is enough to reveal the tall shadow of a person stretching across the carpeted floor.

Your stomach does a somersault and your heart starts pounding furiously against your chest the moment your turn around and meet the dark figure standing on the balcony. If you hadn’t been so frightened by the sight, you would have stop to wonder how the hell did it manage to get there, seven stories up, under the heavy rain. But you first impulse today is to scream, to run and lock yourself inside your room before this creep attacks you. And you are readying your feet to run, when he does something that leaves you completely disconcerted… to say the least. The shadowy figure uncovers his head, pointy ears coming to light and gently… he knocks on the glass.

An hybrid.

The hybrid.

Wait what?

You blink once. 

A moment passes and he knocks again with the same caution as before, as if he’s actually waiting for you to let him in. You can’t think for an appropriate response. Ignore him? Resume your intention to hide away in your room? Sure if he climbed all the way up here he can find his own way down too. Or should you call the police? Well, considering he helped you before, it would be quite rude to report him or let him freeze outside in the cold rain any longer. You hurry to the wall to turn the lights on and have a better look at whatever is happening and to make sure he’s the same hybrid from before.

The rainy gloom is replaced by the warm light of the led chandelier that hangs from the ceiling as it illuminates the living room and casts enough light towards the balcony for you to recognize the young man standing outside. It’s definitely him. His hair is wet, fringe plastered against his forehead and his little ears keep flicking back and forwards on his head. When you meet his eyes, he wriggles the fingers on his lifted hand in some kind of awkward greeting gesture. This is situation is completely absurd. So obviously, you decide to go with it.

You walk over the glass door a slide it open.

A familiar smell of wet dirt kind of sends you into a deja-vu as you glance at his form. He doesn’t look that big or menacing anymore as you stand in front of him. Seokjin is way tallerㅡand broaderㅡyou note to yourself as you notice he’s still wearing the other one’s hoodie, which is completely soaked in rain. All of him is. 

You notice his amber eyes scanning your face as you do the same to his.

“Human…”, he mutters in a low but soft voice. You note his button nose, and the way his lips seem to form a natural pout when he speaks. “You didn’t go to work today. Are you sick?”.

His question is so out of the blue, and his tone worried like you knew each other as good friends, that you remain silent for a moment. Taking it all in. Did he…? Did he just climbed to a balcony 70 feet high to ask youㅡa completely strangerㅡif you skipped work because you were sick?

You stare at him, dumbfounded. He blinks, calmly despite the rain drops that keeps falling on his head and shoulders as he waits for you to answer. His ears flick again. You notice a black tail waving behind his legs. And you finally snap.

“Are you serious right now?!”, the exclamation leaves your mouth before you can stop yourself and you yank him inside, to shield him from the rain. Does he want to get sick too? What the hell is wrong with this manㅡhybrid or whatever he is?

He stumbles inside, and drips into your carpet but you pay no attention to it as you head to your room to fetch him a clean towel. He hasn’t moved by the time you return, not even an inch and he remains still as you throw the towel over his shoulders to attempt to dry him up a little.

“First of all, what the hell? Second, who are you and what on earth are you doing here?”, you ask him, pressing the towel down on his chest, shoulders, moving up softly to his cheeks and hair.

“You know who I am”

“You’re a cat hybrid and a stray. That’s all I know”

“Jaguar...”, he huffs. You catch an offended tint in his tone this time. His tail flicks uneasy behind him.

“What?”

“I’m a black jaguar hybrid, not a cat...“

“Well, sorry. I don’t know anything about hybrids!” you retort, looking at him again. You’re about half an inch shorter than him, so you don’t have bend your neck too much “But seriously? Are you following me? I told you I didn’t want any trouble! The last thing I need BioTech knocking at my door”.

He doesn’t reply. Maybe he’s not much of a talker, you think to yourself. Still, you need him to understand how inconvenient this situation is for both of you, but specially for you.

“Look… I can’t afford nor want a license, so if you were looking for a new owner I’m sorry to disappoint you”.

He frowns a little, but his face remains rather neutral. He reaches for the towel with his own hands now and you step back to let him dry himself now.

“I’m not interested in a new collar, don’t worry”, he says. His tone is stern and you come to wander if you’ve made him upset. “Like I said…”, he clears his throat and pressed his lips together “I came to make sure you were okay, that is all”.

You frown at his words and glance at him with a questioning look.

“Why? You don’t know me and I don’t even know your name. I only gave you leftovers and a used sweater. What do you want from me?”.

“You are one of the good ones, human.”, He clutches the towel against his chest with both hands. “You showed me kindness, I wanted to… repay the favor, I guess”.

His ears fold down against his skull. It’s such a soft gesture, and his eyes look genuine. It makes him look so small and vulnerable that you have to resist the urge to pet him. You remind yourself he is not only a grown man but his genes are also mixed with those of a wild animal. A panther, a predator, not a house cat you can pet.

You take a breath and fold your arms over your chest.

“You already helped me, remember?”, you remind him of that night when the drunk man assaulted you. He nods so you shrug. “Then we’re even. You don’t need to watch over me. I don’t want you to...”. He says nothing, his eyes drop to the floor as you let out a sight. “Honestly? It actually freaks me out... I don’t know you. Do you think is normal for a person to follow another one around like a shadow? It’s not! It’s creepy!”.

He blinks in confusion, like he’s having a hard time following your rant. But then, his shoulders drop, he lowers his eyes to the carpet again and lets out a heavy sigh.

“I- I understand”.

“Good.” You nod, not entirely satisfied with that answer or his lack of visual contact to help you figure out what he’s thinking. But still, you let him be as you round the couch to pause the TV with the remote.

An awkward silence follows after, neither of you move for a moment. Then, when you can’t take it anymore, you raise your eyes to look at him and are suddenly taken aback by the way he’s staring back at you, intensely. His eyes seem to glow inhumanly and he wears a stern frown that’s unsettling enough to make you flinch.

"W-what now?!”, you snap, feeling uneasy by his gaze alone.

“Am I a person to you?” he then asks. 

“Of course you are... Aren’t you?”. His reply shines for its absence again, and you can’t stand anymore of that piercing look. You quickly maneuver yourself towards the kitchen without locking eyes with him again. “Look, you are a completely stranger that just climbed through my window. But you saved me once and I think I can trust you no to do something weird, so... You can stay until the storm is over…”.

You swear you hear him mutter something that sounds like a ‘thank you’, as you scoot away to the kitchen. 

You come to a stop two steps away from the door frame, when you realize something important. You haven’t even introduce yourselves to one another. You turn around in your heels and pop you head out of the door. You roll your eyes when you see that he’s still standing next to the glass door. Is he not planning to move from that spot at all?

“My name is y/n, by the way”, you tell him.

He turns his head to you and nods.

“Yoongi…”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi”. You offer him a half-smile and point to the couch “Sit down… I mean- if you want to”.

“I don’t want to ruin your furniture”. It takes you a moment, then you remember. Your lips forms and quiet ��o’ as you glance down his body. Though his face is dry, his clothes are still damp and would probably leave wet patches all over where he decided to sit.

You step out of the kitchen scratching your chin with an amused smirk.

“Well, I suppose we have to get rid of those clothes then”.

His face is priceless. He doesn’t know how to react and you note the way his tail curves around his leg, coyly. Innocent confusion to your flirty lame joke that has you wondering if he’s never been in this kind of situation before. He’s handsome, his features are sharp and manly, his skin clear and that button nose makes him look rather cute. He might be a panther, but his reactions are still very kitty-like. So before he gets a bad impression and darts out of the window, you open your mouth again to clarify yourself.

“I have other clothes that could fit you. Dry clothes so you don’t get a pneumonia”.

He still looks a little confused.

“I can’t get sick”, he replies.

You nod.

“Yeah, that’s my point”

“No, I mean… biologically I- that’s how they… um, made us…”, he scowls down at his own feet.

You can tell he’s struggling with his words, to try and explain it to you but you are quickly to get an idea of what he means. Of course, if they go all the way to modify their DNA to mix it with animal genes, why not throw a reinforced immunity system in the mix as well. That, however, ignites a new question in your mind. When he says they “made us” he means from the womb or at some point in their life… were hybrids once fully human too? The implication of the former being true sends shivers down your spine. BioTech experimenting with humans, possibly children… it can’t be, right? Those kinds of things just happen in Orwellian novels and science fiction in real life there are limits, human rights are to be considered… right?

“Human…”. Thank God his voice drags you out of that train of thought. The dark road where it was leading is some business you don’t want to meddle with. 

You clear your throat and look up at the hybrid.

“But still, you’ll need dry clothes if you are staying”. You insist, and since are feeling a little braver after he scared the hell out of you, you reach for his wrist and pull him alongside you. Anything to block the horrors your mind can come up with if you let it wander back to the possibilities of hybrid genesis “Come on, let’s go”.

You walk him to your room.

Surprisingly, he lets you drag him along to your closet. You are thankful that he’s not big, so a pair of your baggy gym sweats might fit him just fine. You also pull out the only large t-shirt you own, black and plain. You usually only use it as pajamas. He is probably going to appreciate the color considering all he’s wearing right now apart from Seokjin’s hoodie. You smile to yourself. You also grab a beige sweater from your closet, winter is just around the corner and even with the heater on it can get quite chilly especially when it’s raining like this. You turn around and hand him all the clothes you selected with a satisfied smile.

“it’s almost lunch time. You can change here while I go and make us something to eat”.

“You are ill and plan to cook?”.

“Yes…?”

He raises his eyebrows and eyes at the pile of clothes in his hands, disapprovingly.

“What?”

“Sounds unwise”.

You take a deep breath. He’s got a point, though, and your body still feels a little sore.

“Fine, I’ll order food then... Whatever”, you roll your eyes. 

It really doesn’t matter if you cook or not and he’s probably right. If you really want to wear off that cold you should probably step away from extreme changes of temperature. 

“You can use my Bathroom if you want to freshen up, is behind that door”. He nods. “I’ll leave you to it”, you give him a smile, pressing your lips together and pat the room’s door before closing it behind you.

By the time Yoongi leaves the room, you are at the door, paying the delivery boy for the food. After browsing some yelp recommendations, you’d settled down for a barbecue restaurant nearby that had a four star review. And by the smell of it, you know you won’t be disappointed. After closing the door, you turn to your hybrid guest and catch him sniffing the air, enthusiastically. His ears stand tall and straight, as his attention falls to the takeout bag in your hands.

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips and you gesture him to the dining table in front of you. He obeys without hesitation. Your heart shrinks with concern, he probably doesn’t get to eat properly out there on the street. If he’s been hanging around the neighborhood he most likely has to rely on people throwing away leftovers. Maybe that’s why he was rummaging through the trash containers outside your shop that night.

You sigh, a sudden urge to protect him washes over you, like an instinct you can’t quite explain. The poor thing, he must be hungry.

You are quickly to set the table and invite him to sit down. Before you start eating, you make sure to take his wet clothes and put them inside the dryer. You make your way back to the living room and set the plates for the two of you. A part of you thought he might dive right in, tossing the cutlery away to tear the meat apart with his fangs instead. But Yoongi shows impeccable table manners as you both start to eat, not even placing his elbows down on the table. 

A pang of guilt crosses your chest, why were you expecting so little of him? Did you regard him as nothing more than a desperate animal?

You are quickly to chastise yourself, brushing those thoughts away. He is a person, a man, and just because he’s got a fluffy tail and cute little ears doesn’t mean you should expect him to act like an uneducated beast. You know nothing about him, his story, where he came from, if he had past owners, or if he lived all his life out there on the streets. No, scratch that last part. He had to be an indoors hybrid considering the way he so expertly manipulates the fork and knife. He said he was a panther, and you once heard in the radio panthers and timber wolfs hybrids were a trend among the rich families. Something to do with the territorial nature of their animal half that tied them to their owners, thus minimizing the chances of runaways. But Yoongi has no owner. He’d said so himself earlier that evening…

“Are you a stray?”, the question just drops from your lips as if they had a mind of their own. He pauses for a moment to regard you in silence. You bite into the fork at his unamused glance. Maybe he’s trying to find some hidden meaning in your question, as if to understand where the question comes from.

He breaks eye contact and glances down at his place.

“I thought you said you were not interested in being an owner”

“And I’m not. I’m just curious about… “ how can you phrase it that it doesn’t sound invasive? You want to ask it subtly, but when you open your mouth again what comes out is:, “How you ended up outside my pastry shop hiding between the trash containers?”

Not subtle at all.

But it seems to amuse him. You note a half smirk forming in the corner of his lips.

“Ah, that…”

“I won’t tell,” you promise. “I’m just curious..”

He seems to think about it for a moment. Lips pressed together and his fingers fidgeting with the fork in his hand.

“I-“ he clears his throat. “I got into a fight”

“What?! Why?”, You blurt our, not expecting that exactly. Worry washed over your face, he can see it, but he simply shrugs. It’s better not to get you too involved, for your own safety.

“I pissed people off”

“But, you are okay. Aren’t you?” You question him and he simply nods. “Don’t you have someone you can contact?”, you ask him, concerned for his well-being. He must have someone, Jaguars are a rare breed, even the actual animal jaguars are in danger of extinctions. “I just imagine… panther hybrids to be rare and therefore… valuable? Shit- I don’t… It sounds awful that way- I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry”

He smirks and shakes his head.

“You don’t need to apologize, though. You are not wrong… “, a sigh leaves his lips and he raises an eyebrow. “The rarer the commodity higher is the price”.

“People are not commodities, Yoongi…”. His ears flick at the mention of his name. He nods slightly and presses his lips together.

“They don’t consider us people”. You note the bitterness of his tone.

“Who?”

“You know…” he shifts uncomfortably in the chair. His tail flicks behind him. “Owners in general”.

A moment of silence settles between you two as you finish your meal. You have so many questions, so intrigued by this new world you just found out about, that you can’t help but break the silence.

“Can I- can I ask you another question, Yoongi?”.

An annoyed sigh leaves his lips and you swallow nervously.

“You will, regardless of my answer”, he takes another bite and when you remain silent he glances at you frowning sightly. He sighs “yes, you can ask me whatever you want, human”

You bite your nether lip. You have many questions indeed, but he might find you more annoying if you decide to bomb him with all of them at once. You don’t want him to feel obligated to answer you, so you keep it simple. The question that’s been haunting you since he step foot in your apartment.

“Did you really just came here to see if I was okay?”, you ask. He pauses for a minute, setting down his fork. His eyes scan your face. His head lolls to the side, ears flick back and forth. Great, you just make him uncomfortable. “It’s just… not usual. To receive that kind of attention I mean. People… unless you are family or very good friends, going over to their home instead of texting them just to check on them is… well, it is weird”.

“I don’t own a phone”.

“… I figured”, you chuckle.

Another beat of silence and he finally speaks.

“It’s the instincts”.

“What?”

“It’s hard to be that rational when your DNA commands you to rely on your instincts”. He explains with a serious face that is rather hard to read. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable”.

“Don’t worry”, you shake your head. “…Maybe we all should trust our instincts more often than to comply to society standards of behaviour… So many rules kind of break people apart, you know? Like… Wait until he calls you, no you shouldn’t let him in after the first date, make sure to hung up first, if you text him right after the date you will look desperate… It’s ridiculous. If I want to do something, meet someone you should just go for it, period. ”, you let out an embarrassed chuckle and rest your chin on your palm. “I’m sorry, I’m just rambling now”

His lips stretch in a soft smile.

“I can see”.

You smile back. What would Seokjin think if he saw you right now? Trusting this stranger without a second thought, you, the girl who double checked the plates and driver’s profile when riding an Uber. But Yoongi doesn’t make you uneasy, on the contrary. His presence is weirdly soothing for you, maybe it’s his honest words, or what he did for you that night. Maybe is the innocent look he gives you when he seems confused. You don’t feel in danger, even though your mind already acknowledged the fact that he is part a predator.

“Human…”, his voices makes you realize you went back to staring, again. With flushed cheeks you stand up and gesture to his now empty plate.

“Let me take that, I’ll go load the dishwasher”

“Ah… looks like the sun is going to be out in time for the sunset”, you sigh as you look through the balcony’s window. It stopped raining a few moment ago, and the sky is covered in warm pink and orange clouds. After lunch, you both went back to he living room and you resumed watching your TV show. Yoongi made himself comfortable in the armchair next to the TV and neither of you felt the need to fill the silence with pointless conversation.

You turn you head towards him. He’s curled in a ball, his bare feet up and knees pressed to his chest. His black tail is wrapped around his left leg and his ears flick every now and then with the sounds that come from the TV. It is a cute sight, and part of you wishes he would sit next to you so you can pet his ears. They look so soft…

When his amber eyes find yours, you feel your cheeks heating up, embarrassed. He caught you staring so earnestly that you fear he might get the wrong impression about you. You stand up so fast you almost trip over the carpet and laugh it out when he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I- I’m going to check your stuff, the drying cycle is probably done”, you disappear into the back of the kitchen for a minute. You manage to calm down and collect his stuff before heading back to the living room. Yoongi is now standing next to the balcony, his eyes admiring the sky across the glass door. He senses you approaching and turns around.“Here, dry, warm and fresh”, you hand him the pile of clothes. “you can keep the ones you are wearing too, if you’re comfortable”. He thanks you with a faint smile, securing the clothes below his arm. That can’t be comfortable, you snap your fingers and point back at the kitchen with your thumb. ”… let me get you a bag”

“You are nothing like them”, you hear his voice from the living room as you rummage through the kitchen’s cabinets.

“Like who?”

“My former owners”, he replies. You find an old tote bag you forgot you owned, folded in squares at the back of one of the cabinets and you grab it. “It’s difficult to find humans like you, that’s why I wish to protect you. You should be protected”.

You frown at his choice of words and exit the kitchen with the tote bag in hand.

“Protected from what?”, there’s no one in the living room. The veil curtains from the sliding glass door flow swiftly with the breeze that slips through the open panel. 

“Yoongi?” You call for him.

But he is gone.

It’s been a few days since that odd encounter with Yoongi in your apartment. You haven’t seen him since then, and you can’t help but wonder what’s been of him. Is he still around? He did say he wanted to protect you, but you live a fairly ordinary life and you tend to avoid trouble in generalㅡapart from that drunk man who attacked youㅡ; the only dangers to worry about in life of a pastry chef is to mix up salted and unsalted butter, or that the meringues don’t rise in time in the oven.

You are back at your shop. It’s early in the morning and you are finishing with the last batch of lemon curd pies before the customers start to arrive. You are checking the oven’s temperature when your cellphone rings inside your apron’s pocket.

You clean your hands with a kitchen rag and fish your phone out. It’s Jin, you smile but can’t help to feel a little confused. You can’t remember the last time you received a call from your best friend at this hour in the morning, it’s not even seven yet.

“Hey, beautiful” he greets you when you answer. “Just checking on you, are you at the shop?”

“Yeah, I’m about to open. Why?”

“Have you seen the news today?”

“Not really. I woke up and came straight here” you reply, supporting yourself on your elbows on the counter. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Well, I’m not sure… It’s just- I was on my way to the restaurant and there’s this thing going on in the radio about about a search party in your neighborhood. I’m just calling to make sure everything was okay”.

You blink confused. “A search party for what?”

“Apparently there was an underground hybrid shelter taken town around the river sector, the said something about dangerous stray hybrids on the loose…”

Your can’t help but think of Yoongi, is he going to be okay? Are they looking for him? but you don’t want your friend to senses your uneasiness. You don’t want to worry Jin.

“Sounds dramatic. But so far…”, you sigh, as if nothing is happening and step out of the counter to glance out of the windows. “Everything looks normal here- Oh! There’s Mrs. Park, I gotta go, Jinnie…”.

“Kay. Please take care!”

“You too, bye~”. You hang up and greet at the cute little old lady that just walked through the doors. “Good morning Mrs. Park! How’s the hip going?”

She smiles at you, her eyes disappearing for a moment to form half crescent moons.

“Better child, I injected myself last night something for muscular pain and I feel like a can dance all night”

“You injected yourself”, you blink in disbelief. She laughs and waves a hand as to tell you it’s okay.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m retired from the Military Hospital, used to he the head nurse back in the day”, she winks. You smile. “every rump in the division knew my needle”.

You chuckle, and take your place behind the register to get her order.

The day continues normally, except for the few police sirens you can hear patrolling around the block. More than usual and you figured it must be because of the search party. You decide to ignore them, and focus on finishing your day at the shop before heading home.

It’s night time when you step into your apartment. You take off your coat and shoes at the entrance hall before turning the lights in and walking to the living room. You heart skips a beat at the scene in from of you.

Yoongi is standing in the middle of the living room. His face and clothes are dirty, and his hands are covered in crimson bloods. He looks agitated, sweating and his pupils dilated. He glances at you helplessly.

“We didn’t know where else to go…” Yoongi utters, his voice trembling sightly, ears folded against his skull. He clutches at his sweater. “Please, y/n… help him”.

Help him? Help who?

Your heart feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest, you can even hear buzzing sound in your ears as you try to understand what is happening. You look at Yoongi, and scan his frame to look for a possible wound that explains the blood in his hands. However, you note he is disheveled but not hurt. It’s not his blood. For a moment you feel relieved, but then it hits you. Help him… He’s asking you to help someone else, someone else that is hurt.

You hear a low grunt coming from behind the couch. You knees feel wobbly, and your heart beats hard against your chest. That’s when you see him, a young man with his back against the couch and an open wound that’s oozing blood right on his left side.

“Oh, my God!”, you drop your bags to the floor and hurry to his side. But the hybrid hisses, baring his canines out at you and quickly tries to move back away from your touch. He’s too weak for that, though, and ends up falling to the side. He curses in pain, and blood starts to ooze from another wound in his right thigh.

Yoongi rushes to his side and helps him up again. You notice his handsome face contorting in a worried look, almost anxious, afraid. You heart sinks. You don’t want Yoongi to be afraid. You want to help him, to help this friend of his that he seems to care a lot for.

“Joon, it’s okay. She can be trusted”, Yoongi says. But the hybrid still seems too reluctant to let you come close as he eyes you warily.

“Humans can’t be trusted, hyung”, he says that, with his golden eyes piercing through you. His face is drained of color, lips almost purple and sweat making his silver hair stick to his forehead.

There’s a pair of triangle-shaped ears crowning his messy curls, very similar to husky ears. What breed could he be, you wonder as your eyes scan his wounds again. Yoongi had wrapped some kind of rag around the wounded leg to cut the blood flow, but the sudden jerk must have reopened it.

Yoongi’s eyes find your own, his ears are now folded against his skull. He looks at you almost pleadingly.

“She’s one of the good ones, I trust her”.

His words move something inside your chest and fill you with determination. Maybe is the way he looks at you. Whatever is is, you get up and run to the kitchen to gather some rags and towels to help stop the bleeding and your small first aid kit you keep inside the drawers.

The new hybrid takes a few more reassurance word from Yoongi to let you touch him, and with your combined efforts you help him to your room, he’s too tall for lying comfortably on the couch. Besides, a few bloods stains in your duvet are going to be the least of your problems if this hybrid dies under your roof. However, soon you come to realize there’s nothing you can do for him but clean his wounds and pray to God he hasn’t lost too much blood. He need stitches, antibiotics, painkillers and you have nothing but acetaminophen and some band-aids at home.

“Yoongi…”, you call his name and he can sense your anxiety in your quivering tone. Your hands are stained, and the new hybrid is about to lose consciousness. “I’m not a doctor but the amount of blood coming out of that wound is alarming. You need proper medical care, we gotta get you to an hospital”

“NO!” Joon growls and the effort to raise his tone like that, has him wincing in pain.

Yoongi sighs. “No hospitals, y/n… It’s not safe”

You glance and the hybrid lying on the bed. He’s got his eyes closed now and his breathing is irregular. “If he doesn’t get that wound treated up you are going to bleed out or worse if it gets infected and-”

“Can’t you treat him?”, he looks at you so full of hope that makes you hate yourself for not even knowing the basics of first aid.

“Yoongi, I’m a pastry chef not a nurse”, your eyes water when that hopeful look vanishes from his amber eyes. Joon growls under his breath, he’s getting paler as the time goes. If only you could be of more help, if only there was something else you could do, someone you could trust to help- “Wait…!”

Yoongi’s ears flick as he looks back at you. “What is it?”

“I know someone in this building that can help us!”, you say. Yoongi frowns a little. “Mrs Park, lives on the second floor and she’s a retired nurse”, you explain, and stride to the door to grab your coat first. You don’t want to alarm Mrs Park with all the blood staining your sweater.

Yoongi stops you right when you close a hand around the door’s handle.

He is reluctant to let you go, but you can feel it in your heart that Mrs Park can be trusted. She can keep the secret and help.

“We have to take the chance, Yoongi. Your friend might not make it through the night if he doesn’t receive treatment”.

He bites his lip and glances at the bed. When he looks back to you he simple releases you and nods. You give him a half smile before leaving the room.

You are not in the right mindset to mind taking the elevator so you run downstairs to the second floor and almost trip over at the last step. When you get to her front door, you need a moment to calm yourself down before knocking. When she opens the door, you are a nervous wreck, fidgeting with your hands behind your back.

“G-goodnight, Mrs. Park… I- I hope I’m not… not intruding” the old woman eyes you confused, she’s wearing reading glasses and holds a hardcover romance novel in her hands.

“Oh, not at all, dear. I was just doing some reading”, she gestures vaguely at her book. “What do you need?”

“Nana, I’m hungry!” A soft, sweet voice speaks from inside the apartment before you get a chance to explain yourself. 

“Gimme a minute, Jiminie I’m at the door”, Mrs Park replies and her attention goes back to you. “You were saying, dear?”

You take a deep breath. You have to do this, now or never. “Mrs Park, you said you were a nurse in the army, right?” She nods. “Have you ever... like... treated bullet wounds?”

Worry washes over her fine features.

“Did something happen, y/n?”

“I… Uh- How do you feel about hybrids?”

“I don’t understand…”.

You are running out of time. You need to make her understand without revealing too much in case she refuses.

“Do you think they are human too?”

“Hey, what’s gotten you to ignore me?” A young man pops up from behind the old lady and places his chin on her shoulder. Your attention is immediately dragged to his bright orange hair and the two triangle-shaped ears with dark tips on top of his head.

“Sorry, y/n”, Mrs Park sighs and gently pets the boy’s hair. “this is my grandson Jimin”

“Grandson?”

“Hi~”, he smiles, his eyes disappearing in the same crescent shapes you’ve grown accustomed to see in Mrs Park’s. But his face shifts to a cringed expression after he sniffs. He eyes you with a mix of wariness and concern.  “Why do you smell like blood?”

You can’t give him a coherent reply, and you look at Mrs. Park like a deer caught in the headlights. She eyes you curiously now and you swallow.

“Why don’t you tell me what you really need, y/n?”

You guide the woman back to your apartment after you’d explained the situation to her. She was more than willing to help. Mrs Park grabbed her medical supplies and her and Jimin accompanied you to your floor.

Yoongi walks out of your room as soon as you enter the apartment.

“Yoongi…”, you call his name and he turns to you. His ears stand tall and sniff a couple times. He eyes fall on your visitors and tenses at the presence of the fox hybrid. His tail waves nervously behind him as he stands. “This is Mrs Park, and this is her grandson, Jimin”

“Hello there, young man. We meet again”, Mrs Park smiles warmly at him, catching you by surprise. “Are you still climbing buildings?”

Yoongi’s cheeks turn a bright shade of pink you’ve never seen before.

“Uh…” he swallows and drifts his attention to you, as if asking for help. You, however, are more astonished at fact that she seems to know him… and his peculiar habit of climbing the exteriors of buildings. 

All kinds of questions flood your mind, and that’s when you realize you actually know nothing of him. Well, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, you met him twice and that’s all. But for some reason it feels unsettling, like a part of you is disappointed. You want to know him, you desperately want to know more about this person but you can’t bring yourself to understand why.

“Where’s the boy?”, Mrs Park asks, dragging you out of your thoughts.

“This way” you guide the woman to where the hybrid lies, Yoongi and Jimin closely trailing behind you.

Joon has passed out, and when Mrs Park reaches down to check his temperature, a deep frown forms in her face. She asks the two of you to leave the room and gestures Jimin to bring in her medical supplies.

Yoongi doesn’t want to leave, so you end up having to drag him out with you. “She will treat him, don’t worry”, you try to reassure him everything is going to be fine. You trust Mrs Park, if there’s anything to be done for his hybrid friend, she will do it. “I’m sure he’s going to be okay”

“I know, that wolf is too stubborn to die”, he half-jokes and you note to yourself his friend’s species.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” Yoongi nods and lets you pull him towards the living room.

You have him sit down and go fetch the box of baby wipes you keep in the guests’ restroom.

You diligently clean the dried blood from his hands and claws, and then reach up to do the same with his face. He lets you, eyes closed.

“There…”, you smile and truck a strand of raven hair behind his ear.

He opens his eyes. Warm, enticing, amber pools looking straight at you. He has such beautiful eyes, so full of mysteries you can’t help but stare back. It’s the closest you two have been since you met him, if you were to move a couple inches closer your noses would meet. Behind the metallic stench of blood, you can still make out his own scent, a mix of wet dirt and rain.

“Thank you…” he mutters, breaking the spell you found yourself into.

Realization hits you. How long did you stare? You swallow and look down at your own hands. You can feel your cheeks starting to heat up.

“You- You don’t have to thank me, I just did what anyone would”, you try to brush your embarrassment off by focusing on cleaning your own hands.

Yoongi scoffs.

“You know that’s not true”

You shrug. Your hands are clean already but you keep scrubbing them with the wipe. Suddenly too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. 

“I want to believe it is…”, you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

“Still doesn’t make it true”, Yoongi retorts and leans back on the couch. You raise your head slowly and find him with his eyes closed again, arms folded against his chest. “…I knew I was right about you”

Your heart does a flip. If he trust you this much, would he trust you with the details of what happened too? You are too curious and too worried not to ask, you want- no, you need to know. 

“What happened, Yoongi?”, you ask him. He opens his eyes and presses his lips together, giving you an apologetic frown. “I’m no expert, but I’m positive those were bullet wounds, weren’t they? And… and there was a searching patrol around the neighborhood”

He sighs.

“We were being chased”

“Why?” You lean closer, eager to hear the truth. But Yoongi remains silent and shrugs. You take a deep breath. “Yoongi, please…”, you nudge him in the arm. “I’m risking a lot too to have you here right now, the least you could do is be honest with me. Please…” You too maintain eye contact for what it feels like an eternity. Finally Yoongi seems to give in.

He turns his body to you and sighs.

“There’s a group out there that fights for hybrids rights, for us to be considered equals to humans…”, he explains, still reluctant. “I can’t tell you their name, but... if you must know... Namjoon and I- we’re with them. Last night…”

He pauses, his eyes drift to the side as if he’s replaying the events that led to his friend’s injuries last night. You reach for his arm, and give him a comforting squeeze you hope will make him feel at least a little better. He takes you by surprise when he places his hand on top of yours. The size difference is so evident. He feels incredibly warm and you are left to wonder if it was you that needed the comforting instead. Your stomach ties in a nervous knot when he brushes his thumb over the back of your palm.

“There was a meeting inside an old warehouse we’d adapted as a shelter for hybrids in need…” he continues. “Somehow… Someone had to betrayed us and word got out… and we were ambushed by Hybrid Control. They started shooting before we could defend ourselves…”

“But…” you blink in confusion. “I thought Hybrid Control just brought hybrid to the Pound, they shouldn’t be armed…”. 

A dark chuckle leaves Yoongi’s mouth at your words.

The knot in your stomach tightens at his new stern look.

He shakes his head. “That’s what BioTech advertises… But it has never been true” he sighs and removes his hand from yours. You take it as a cue to do the same, even though you don’t feel like it. You still want to comfort him in any way you can. “Many were killed… the few of us who make it out were hunted down. Namjoon was hit trying to help the younger ones escape. We don’t even know if they make it…”

You bring a hand to your mouth. That’s just horrible, you can only imagine the fear, the chaos. You want to say something, you want to comfort Yoongi, to make him feel safe here even though you can barely defend yourself from a drunk man.

You hear him sigh, heavy and tired. 

“I said I wanted to protect you and now I’m putting you on the line of fire…” he shakes his head and brings a hand to his forehead. He probably feels disappointed with himself too. ”I’m sorry, y/n”

“No, don’t be” you are quickly to respond. “I want to help, let me protect you this time”.

His beautiful eyes find yours and you feel short of breath. The way he looks at you has your stomach doing flips, a strange feeling washes over you, it’s warm but also electric. Yoongi reaches for your hand again, you can’t take your eyes off him, or the way he seems to be leaning closer to you. Your heart beat picks up and you glance at his lips, moisturizing your own as a reflex.

“All done”, Mrs Park walks into the living room wiping her hands with a stained rag. Yoongi stiffens and draws back in a heartbeat, putting some distance  between the two of you as you turn around to look at the old woman. “I took the bullets out and stitched him up. I’ll come to check on him tomorrow to change the bandages. He has a few broken ribs too, they need time and rest to heal. I can’t do anything about the sour attitude though”

She chuckles.

“Thank you so much, Mrs Park”, she smiles warmly at you both and nods.

“Call me if you need anything, child”. You promise you will and she leaves with Jimin, not before advising you to be careful and not to drag any unnecessary attention to yourself.

“He’s asleep now”, Yoongi announces, walking back to the kitchen after checking up on his friend. He needed to eat something to regain his strength so you fixed him a quick meal, mostly meat, and Yoongi made sure he ate. He leaves the empty plates on the counter and you offer him a bite of the leftovers stew you made before serving him a bowl. You two eat in silence and after all is done and the dishes are placed inside the dishwasher, you go back to the living room.

It’s past three am. Your apartment is made for a single person so you don’t have a spare bed to offer Yoongi. Instead, you fetch a cozy blanket and a pillow from the linens closet and offer him your couch.

“You should probably get some sleep, it’s almost dawn”, you tell him as you tuck him in. But when he sees you about to walk away, Yoongi frowns and sits straight on the couch.

“Wait. What about you?”

You shake your head. “I need to go back to the shop at seven, anyway”

“You haven’t sleep, you need to rest”, he scolds you with a worried look that makes you giggle. God, you really must be tired. “You shouldn’t work today…”

“It would look strange if I don’t open the shop today and Mrs Park said not to drag unnecessary-“ you yawn mid-sentence “…attention”

“It’s not unnecessary attention”, Yoongi grabs your wrist and pulls you down with him. You fall into his arms, and somehow he manages to fit both of you in the small couch before throwing the blanket over your form. “Yoongi-“, you try to protest but he shushes you.

“You are tired, you need to rest”. His warmth is so inviting you don’t want to pull away, and you can hear the calm beating of his heart against your palm. He has one arm below your head to serve you as a pillow, and the other one wraps gently around your waist.

You can’t remember the last time a man held you like this, with so much care, and you want to nuzzle against the crook of his neck.

“Is this okay?”

You nod, resting your cheek against his chest. “Y-yes…”

“Good. Now sleep”.

“Okay... but one last question”, you whisper, he doesn’t reply and you take it as cue to go ahead and ask, “How did you get up here?”.

You hear a soft chuckle leave his lips, but he doesn’t reply. A moment passes and you realize he’s not going to talk again soon, he must have fallen asleep by the rhythm of his breathing.

You yourself start to doze off as well to the smell of warm cotton and wet dirt.

Just as she promised, Mrs Park came the very next day to replace the wolf’s bandages. That’s what Yoongi tells youㅡsince you were still sleeping until late morningㅡ when you find him in the kitchen, struggling with the coffee machine. His tail waving angrily behind his back as he stares at a bunch of little coffee pods in his hands. 

“Do you need help?”, you ask him.

“It’s a coffee machine, not rocket science”, he replies, but you can still see confusion in his eyes. “what’s the difference between mountain fresh and highland fresh?”

You chuckle, “One is cheaper. They all taste the same. Here…”, you grab a pod and place it inside the machine, then close the lid, mark the amount of water and place a coffee mug below for the brew to start. You notice Yoongi’s ears twitching as he follows your moves. 

“Oh- okay…”, he clears his throat. “Thank you”.

“No prob…”, you smile and busy yourself with looking for some cereal bars at the top cabinet. “So how’s Wolfie? What did Mrs Park said?”

A amused smile find its way to his lips. 

“He’s angry at me I won’t let him set BioTech on fire yet until he’s healed… She gave him quite the scolding for tearing his stitches, you totally missed that.”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“You are good friend, Yoongi”, having him speak to you in such casual, care-free manner is refreshing, and fills you with a rare sense of familiarity you can’t quite understand yet. 

The only thing in your mind right now is how endearing you find his gummy smile, and those bright amber eyes looking back at you. How can he smile so beautifully after all he’s been through? The painful realization hits you, and your own smile falters. That‘s probably just one of the many awful things he had had to endure after becoming a stray. Persecution, rejection, other people treating him like an animal, seeing his own friends being killed, and who knows what other kind of abuse. And still, here he is, smiling at you like it’s nothing. Like he is fine.

Yoongi senses your change of mood immediately and eyes you worried.

“Everything okay?”

“Just…” You shake your head, try to recompose your face. “I’m- I’m sorry for what happened to you and… the shelter…”

Yoongi steps closer, and places a finger under your chin to make you rise your head and look at him. 

“It’s not your fault”

“I know, but... I feel guilty enough knowing that other humans did it”, something heavily presses against your chest and you take a deep breath to steady your heartbeats. “Knowing that… We are capable of so much violence and our goverment simply doesn’t care-”

“We don’t need your pity, human”, a deep growl coming from the kitchen door has you almost jumping into Yoongi’s arms.

You turn around and find the wolf hybrid standing against the frame, his eyes blazing with anger, shooting daggers at you. Yoongi sighs, a hint of annoyance in the way his features harden at his friends. But he still holds you close to him, a protective arm wraps around your shoulders.

“Joon, you shouldn’t be up”, he says with a warning in his tone. The wolf hybrid completely ignores him, and continues to glare at you.

“He says you are one of the good ones, and I want to believe hyung… But I’ve met humans like you, so willing to help, to care for us… in the end they just want to put us on a pretty leash”. He bares his canines as he speaks, nose scrunching, disgust and anger mixed up in his sharp features. “We are not property of anyone, we are as much as a person as you are, and we are tired of getting showcased like commodities to sell to the highest bidder”.

You hold on to Yoongi’s shirt, the soft fabric crumpling in your fist. He’s really hurt, and angry. It’s painfully clear to you, and you try not to take it personally. After all he’s been through, it’s only logical he would be distrustful of you, just another human being.

“Were here because Yoongi-hyung chose to trust you, but if I sniff something funny going on on your side I won’t hesitate to rip your throat out with my bare hands, human”

You try to steady your shaky breaths, but he even got your legs trembling. He’s way taller, broader, bigger than Yoongi. The thickness of his muscles can be seen through his clothes, and the vein popping along his exposed neck. You have no doubt he is capable of ripping you to pieces and more. Is this how a prey feels in the presence of its predator? You wonder whilst his bright feral eyes bore into yours. This immobilizing fear, the cold sweaty hands, the trembling limbs, the impulse of running away as far as you can go. It’s not the same fear as when that drunk man tried to attack you, this is something else, something… primal. 

Your body knows you are in the presence of a hunter.

A predator.

And you are the prey.

“That’s enough, Namjoon!”, Yoongi lets go of you to stand right between you and his hybrid comrade. When he’s hidden you from his sight, is like oxygen finally returns to your lungs. “Go back to bed”.

You hear the wolf grumbling under his breath, reluctant to let you off his hook just yet. But thankfully, soon he’s gone.

“I will never let him hurt you, you don’t have to be afraid of him”, Yoongi tries to reassure you.

“I’m not afraid”

“Don’t lie. I can smell your fear, y/n”, you sigh and cover your face with your hands.

“Yes, I am terrified of him! And he’s also right!”, you take a step back, and uncover your face to glance at the floor. “The only difference between you and me is the ears and the tail, we are all persons and you shouldn’t have to fight for freedom when it is your natural right! Why are people so selfish? Why do the have the need to own another human being to feel superior?”, your voice cracks, and hot tears run down your cheeks before you can do anything about it. All the fright from Namjoon’s earlier speech is finally melting away. “It’s not fair… it’s not right…”

“I know”

“I’m selfish too”

“No, you’re not”

“Yes, I am…”you sniff, and let him comfort you when he places a hand on your back. “because the only reason I helped you that night was because I wanted you to leave, I didn’t want to have any trouble… I was thinking only about myself… I’m sorry…”

You hear a quiet chuckle leaving his lips. “You’re so cute”

“What-?“

“Well, to be honest… You could have scared me away with a bat or something, I was too hurt too tired to fight back then…” he shrugs and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand gently caressing your cheek, and his soft, caring gaze has your stomach doing somersaults. “But you gave me food and dry clothes instead and asked me not to stay out because of the rain”

You are a lot loss of words.

“You shouldn’t think so lowly of yourself, y/n”, his warm hand trails down your neck, thumb still stroking your cheek in circular moves. “You have a good heart, I can see it… and Joon does too that’s why he tried to scare you like that. But don’t worry, as soon as he’s in better shape we’ll leave”

You can feel something shattering inside you after he speaks the thing you’ve been trying to ignore so far. He would have to leave, eventually. You can’t keep him here, it’s dangerous for him and, well… illegal too since he’s technically still a stray and you have no hybrid license.

“Where will you go?”.

He sighs, his other hand comes to rest on your neck as well, encasing you face in the warmth of his skin. “We have to make contact with the rest of the pack… to see who else made it out and reassemble”.

“You are welcome here to stay as long as you need it”, he raises an eyebrow. The faint hint of a smile tugs at his lips, but it’s so subtle you are not sure if you saw it or just imagined it. “I’m not trying to keep you here against your will, or put a leash on you… But I don’t want you getting your clothes all wet out there in the rain either”.

“I’ve put you in enough danger by staying the night, we are used to the streets. Don’t worry” He doesn’t say anything else, and turns to the coffee machine. The brew is ready, the smell of warm dark coffee filling the kitchen. 

He hands the mug to you and places a new pod inside the brewer for himself.

The wolf hybrid recovers at a quicker pace that you’d hoped. It only takes him a couple days to get back on his feet, and another two for the wounds to completely disappear from his body leaving just a few scratches and some greenish patches around the scars. Yoongi and you keep sharing the sofa those two nights and you don’t mind at all. Having someone to hold onto until you fall sleep is better than to hug your pillow. Specially when that someone smells as good as Yoongi does, and his body against yours works better than a thermal sheet to keep you warm and comfy.

The wolf hybrid also seemed to lower his guard a little in the following days. You’d leave Yoongi in charge of your place for the day, and the three of you would have dinner together when you arrived. And even watch some tv before going to bed. Namjoon didn’t really addressed you regarding that first incident in the kitchen, but you would occasionally exchange a few words with him when you saw him checking your book collection. He was a fan of Orwell and Kafka, and it pleased him you had good reading material in your home. Also, he seemed more open to vent his frustrations with the current hybrid laws than Yoongi, and the ways he thought they could improve. 

You learned a lot of this new world you found yourself immersed in just by listening to him. Apparently BioTech had been pulling some strings in the government to create a monopoly out of hybrid license distribution. That way only people approved by the company could get a license.

“It’s all about the profit”, Namjoon explained. “They don’t care about the conditions under which hybrids are kept by their owners. As of right now, you have to pay that absurd amount for the license but the government’s Hybrid Protection Agency demands the owner to take an exam on hybrid careㅡdepending on which breed they choseㅡand go through a personal evaluation to see if their are fit to actually care for an hybrid. BioTech wants to dissolve the HPA completely, so that they can sell the licenses at whatever price they see fit. So many hybrids are mistreated and abused by their owners, even with the few protection laws we have to our benefit. If the HPA is gone then we will have nothing… BioTech can get away with anything, they can do whatever they like to our kind and nobody will have he power to go against them”.

You can’t help but feel terrified for them. You get it now, all the fear, the distrust glares. Humans had done nothing but hurt hybrids for years, and now they want to strip them off any rights they have so they can use them as they please. It has your blood boiling in your veins, you wish you could do something. You want to help… Yet there’s not much you can actually do, but offer to support them, give them a safe place to be while they decide what to do.

One morning, as you are getting ready to leave for work, Yoongi approaches you with a thoughtful frown. He helps you into your jacket in silence, and you thank him with a content smile.

“I was thinking to stop by that Brazilian restaurant again and get something for tonight”, you comment. “Maybe we could watch a movie and-“

“We’re leaving tonight”, he cuts you, and it’s like a tons of bricks just fall over your head.

“What?”

“It’s just... We’ve been here more than what its prudent. Our pack is looking for us”

“Oh…”, is all you can say as you feel your heart sinking in your chest. “I-I see… It’s fine. Uh- Please, be careful. And… if you need something- Anything, food, clothes, a place to crash… I’m always here”.

“Thank you, y/n”, he gifts you a cute smile, and you fight the urge to stroke his ears or wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him against your chest. “I’ll still be guarding you, though”.

“Yoongi…”

“Hm?”

Standing on the tips of your toes, you gather all your courage and press a kiss to his cheek. You let your lips linger there a little longer than necessary just to elicit a reaction from him. But when you pull back, you are rather disappointed to see a poker face looking back at you. 

He doesn’t say anything else and you rush out of the apartment with your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Why on earth did you did that?

When you return home that night after closing up the shop, you find it empty. Just as promised, they are gone. Your room looks like it was cleaned before they left, they even went to the trouble of changing your sheets as well. You sigh and let yourself fall back into the mattress. Looks like you’ll have to hug your pillow and pretend it’s Yoongi if you’re hoping to get any sleep tonight.

The first day you wake up alone in your apartment feels odd. Your double bed feels way too big for you, and your back kinda hurts from the soft mattress. When you are fixing breakfast your mind slips for a second and you end up with three portions of the same scrambled eggs. What a waste of food, you mentally scold yourself. They were here not even a full week and now you are feeling lost without those two presences in your home. It takes a few days to get back to your routine, but finally you are able to push the hybrids to the back of your mind and concentrate in your own work. It’s been a long week, but seeing familiar faces helps. Jin just stopped by earlier, to order some strawberry mousse cakes for this big party he’s hosting at his restaurant tomorrow. He was so excited but couldn’t tell you much because of some confidential agreement. And now, your smile broadens again when the little bells on the shop’s front door jingle and you see another familiar face smiling back at you.

“Oh! Hey, Jimin…”, you are too excited to have him here that it takes you a moment to realize it’s the first time you’d seen him going out. He’s hiding his ears under a brown beanie, and probably has his tail tucked inside that long grey cardigan. “It’s so good to see you. What can I get for you?”

He approaches the counter and rests one forearm on the surface. “Nana wants pineapple tarts”, he explains. “She would have come herself but she’s not feeling good enough to come out. I figured it be okay if I came instead, your store is hybrid-friendly right?” He gives you a cheeky smile.

“You are welcome here, everyone is. But, what’s wrong with Mrs Park? Is she sick?”

“Well I caught her sneaking a bag of ice to her room for her sore joints, and then she tried to shrug it off as if it was nothing but she could barely take a step without wincing”

“Wait- Is she going to be okay? Shouldn’t you take her to the hospital?”

“I’ve tried. Trust me, she’s too stubborn for that. Last time I took her to see an orthopedist and she basically told him he was a disgrace for the medical field and didn’t allow the nurses to inject her”, he shakes his head. The way he pretends to be annoyed is actually endearing, as it is the little pout that forms in his plump lips. “Though I already gave her some medicine for the pain, she’s going to be fine. She’s just getting old, y’know?”

“She’s lucky to have such a devoted grandson to watch over her”, you smile at him and he giggles. His cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink as he runs his fingers through his hair “let me get you those tarts. On the house”

You pack the order in a pretty box and make sure to put an extra of cream for Mrs park’s sweet tooth in the bag before handing it to Jimin. “Thank you, y/n”

“Anytime”, he waves a hand as a goodbye and head for he door. Just then you get a peek of his fluffy tail behind the cardigan and that’s when the questions pops into your mind. “hey, Jimin?”

“Yeah?” He turns on his heels to look at you.

“I’ve been wondering… You don’t have to answer if you don’t want but I was curious about…”, you clear your throat, not wanting to sound like you are prying in somebody else’s business. Jimin returns to the counter with short steps. “Well, you’re a fox hybrid, right? And Mrs Park is human… how come..?”

“How come she’s my grandma?”

“Well, yes…”, you admit. “I thought maybe she adopted you?”

The way he chuckles and shrugs washes over any worries you might have about feeling like prying. Still, you’re a little embarrassed. “She’s my biological grandmother, actually. It’s just how it is, my dad, her son, is human… my mom, she was like me”.

“Was?”

“Yeah.. Uh-“ he ruffles his own fringe with the hand that is not holding he bag, setting the beanie straight “She died… When I was a kid”

Your eyes open wide, and you start apologizing for being so rude.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He tells you, a soothing smile on his lips. “You’re my friend, no need to apologize for being curious”.

“I just thought- I didn’t know hybrids could actually have offspring with humans”.

“Technically, we can’t…” he tilts his head to the side and runs another hand through his red locks. “But there are some cases where a human male can impregnate a female hybrid. That depends completely on the hybrid’s animal part, and her genetic material. It only happens with mammals as far as I’m concerned”.

“Can it happen the other way around?”

“Like a male hybrid impregnating a human?”, you nod. Jimin raises his eyebrows and shake his head. “Not that I’ve heard about… I mean, I can ask one of my professors though. Maybe they’ve done some research on that”

“Your professors?”

“Oh, yeah! I’m majoring in Hybrid Studies”, He beams with pride when he tells you this. His smile is the sweetest you’d ever seen. “It’s all online since pets can’t study and stuff” he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, Nana got me some fake ids and all. I kinda like it, feels like I’m an undercover agent or something”

“That’s amazing, Jimin!” You smile back.

That’s another piece of information that is new for you. Maybe you should’ve guessed since during your college years you never actually shared a classroom with a hybrid, but you never questioned that before… Not even once. You didn’t even considered the possibility of a hybrid wanting to study, to attend university and get a diploma.

But why would you?

Namjoon was right…

Even thought you never wanted to have a hybrid pet, it didn’t mean you actually saw them as more than that.

That’s until Yoongi appeared on your life.

You weren’t better than the people at BioTech, you weren’t better than the owners and that realization hit you like an ice cold water poured over your head. Your eyes prickled with tears, now you understood where all that guilty feeling came from. Because silence never helps the victims… only the perpetrators. “Y/n? Are you okay?”. You look up to see Jimin’s worried eyes scanning your face.

That’s when your attention shifts towards the door when you hear the bells. Thank god is only you and Jimin in the shop at this hour because Yoongi just walks inside, not bothering in hiding his tail and ears.

“Yoongi…!”, you circle the counter and run to his arms. However, the hybrid holds onto you instead, like he’s having trouble to walk and takes a deep breath. “What is wrong? Are you hurt?” Your paranoid heart beats hard against your chest as you Inspect him for blood or something that might justify his state. There’s nothing.

“I’m fine…”, he lets another shaky breath and stumbles over one of the wooden tables. You are quickly to help him stand.

“Like hell you are!” Jimin rushes to your side to help you, but Yoongi growls at him.

“What is this fox doing here?”, his voice is raspy and low, like he’s drunk. But you don’t smell any alcohol in him, only the familiar smell of his skin.

“That’s not relevant now! What happened to you?”, you try to brush the messy fringe from his eyes, and as your hand comes in contact with the skin on his forehead you notice he abnormal body temperature. He’s boiling hot. Yoongi insists that he’s okay, but you are not. “Jimin can you please help me get him home”

“Of course”

You bounce anxious from feet to feet outside your room as you wait for Jimin to come out. Yoongi was acting so strange, drowsy even, and Jimin offered to examine him to see if there here were any signs of the intoxicationㅡ or something similar that could explain his condition. He’s been inside the room with Yoongi for at least ten minutes now, you are getting worried and are about to burst in and check on Yoongi for yourself. Is in that moment when the door opens and you almost run him over a confused Jimin. “Are you okay, y/n?”

“Yoongi- is he...?”

“Oh? He’s fine”, he replies, closing the door behind him.

“But, the fever-“

“It’s not... well, it’s not exactly fever”. Jimin brushes the hair off his face and that’s when you notice a scratches right over his left cheek, three horizontal streaks of irritated skin that run all the way down to his hairline. It looks like some animal dug his claws in him...

“What? Wait-“you lean closer and hold his hair back with one hand to take a better look at the marks. “Did he attacked you?”,

“It’s nothing, just a superficial scratch. I should’ve seen it coming, but I’m not as territorial as he is” he just shrugs, and you don’t know what disturbs you most, that Yoongi had laid a hand on Jimin or that he doesn’t care he did.

“I don’t understand?”

“Well, it’s pretty simple actually... “, he pushes you  gently, away from his personal space. “Yoongi... he’s, um- reacting to your hormones”.

You frown.

“What?”

“That’s where the increasingly body temperature comes from”, he talks as if you are supposed to know what that means. So when you stare at him completely blank, he huffs in disbelief. “y/n, do you even know anything about hybrids at all?”

You can’t get yourself to answer. Much to your embarrassment, the truth is you are as clueless as one can be regarding hybrid biology. You remember Yoongi saying he could get sick, though. Something about his genes and modified DNA. However, you’re pretty sure that isn’t what Jimin means right now.

He sighs, sounding somehow defeated, and waves his hand in a dismissal gesture.

“Listen, grandma has a book on big cats hybrids, imma get it for you”. He strides to the door, but you are quickly to stop him. He hasn’t even answered your questions yet!

“Wait, but what is wrong with him?” He laughs to himself, shaking his head sightly like this is some personal joke he knows you won’t get.

“There’s nothing wrong with him. Its you, you are the problem”. 

You? What does he even mean? You make an offended face and he rolls his eyes again. 

“You’re ovulating, y/n”.

“How- how could you possibly know that?”, you give him a questioning look, trying to disguise your flustered mind, and step back a little.

He shrugs.

“I can smell you”. Your cheeks burn instantly at his words. And he has the nerve to just chuckle at your embarrassed face. 

“What?”, he laughs again and shakes his head. He proceeds to place a hand on your shoulder that is supposed to be a comforting gesture, but doesn’t really help when he opens his mouth again. 

“Take it easy. Look, I can even smell the blueberry and bacon muffin you had for lunch is no big deal”.

“But I brushed my teeth!”, You yelp in embarrassment.

“What can I say? Foxes have outstanding sense of smell”, he grins, inflating his chest, tail waving playfully behind him.

“Okay, but what does it have to do with him being sick? Am I making him sick?”, you ask him, desperate to get some answers. However, Jimin insist on being ambiguous.

“It’s a hybrid thing”, he states and you frown.

“Then shouldn’t I be making you sick too?”

“Foxes mate once a year, on winter season. Besides, as cute as you may be,  you are not my mate, y/n”, and again, his tone is suggest you should know what he’s talking about, but you are so confused and worried you can’t think of a good way to share your questions but to stare blankly at him again. He rolls his eyes with an amused smirk on his face. “Do you really not get it? Look, y/n... Your body is saying it’s ready for babies and he wants to give you his babies. Get it now?”

“What?!” You swallow hard, if your cheeks couldn’t get more flushed before, they are now. How can he imply that-? When you two had never even... “But I- but we don’t... Oh God...Uh- I...”. You are too embarrassed to talk properly, and Jimin seems to be having the time of his life looking at you squirm. He reaches to ruffle with your hair, but you glare at him and smack his hand away. “How can you know that’s what is happening?! For all I know you could just be messing up with me!”

He chuckles. 

“Why would I do that, y/n? Heats are a serious thing for hybrids”, he folds his arms over his chest, but he senses your uneasiness and drops the smug face. He offers you a gentle smile instead. “Hey, relax... He’s not going to coerce you into sex, don’t worry. He’s still the same person you know. Heats are caused by our animal DNA, but don’t make us irrational beings... just... Super horny, I guess.”

“Oh my God!”, your hands come up to hide your face. Jimin chuckles and you let a loud sigh before looking at him again.

So, Yoongi is in heat and it’s your cycle’s fault. But you still don’t understand why does it affect him when Jimin looks just fine, and when he two of them have been around you for around the same time.

“He’s just feeling sick because he’s been far away from you for too long. Give him a couple hours and he’s going to be fine. It might hurt him a little, but nothing a cold shower and some good old self-love can’t fix”, he does a jerking motion with his hand and winks at you with that foxy smile of his that has your cheeks flushing again.

“Oh, my God! Your such a pervert, Jimin”, you yell, completely outraged by his raunchy suggestion. ”Get out!”

He burst into a laugh, throwing his head back and clapping at your annoyed face. You’re about to take off your flip flop and smack him in the head when he runs to the door. “I will get you that book. You need to do some reading and maybe give the poor kitty a hand!” And he wiggles his eyebrow suggestively. 

You throw the flip flop at him but it misses its mark as he shuts the door closed. You can still hear his airy laughter as he walks away.

You huff and stand in the middle of the entrance hall for a few more minutes until all the indignation has vanished from your system. What’s left is the awkwardness of what you just learned.

You make a beeline back to your room. You take a deep breath as you twist the door handle. You pray to god there’s no visible traces of your embarrassment on your face still and push the door open. Yoongi is sitting at the edge of your bed, his broad back to the door. His tail waves rhythmically side to side and his ears twitch as they register your steps. You approach him cautiously, the last time you spoke was when you said goodbye with that awkward kiss. The memory of his emotionless face as he stared back at you then still makes you wish you didn’t do that.

“Hey, stranger...” you speak softly, the mattress dipping a little under your weight as you sit next to him, leaving a body’s width between the two of you. “How are you feeling?”

“Better...”, he sounds tired, hasn’t even looked at you yet. “Sorry if I... y’know... scared you with the way I walked in. I shouldn’t have...”.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you try to lighten the mood. There’s some tension in the air, and you want it gone. “I thought you were dying or something. Don’t do that to me again”, it’s meant as a joke but he doesn’t laugh. 

He doesn’t react and the awkward feeling in your gut just grows more.

“Sorry...”, you whisper.

“Don’t apologize”, he speaks, voice still raspy, gaze focused somewhere at his own feet.

God, this is so awkward you can’t stand it anymore.

Taking a deep breath you stand and step right in front of him. That seems to wake him up and he raises his gaze to look at you from where he’s still sitting down.

“I have to go back to the shop, but please stay here for as long as you need. There’s food in the fridge, and you already know where the plates are. I can run you a bath too before I leave if you want”

“Don’t worry, I’m okay just...” he blinks and shakes his head.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing...”, he lowers his head, visible uncomfortable. You reach for him, but he grabs your wrist in the air with a mind-blowing agility. “Please don’t touch me right now”.

“Right...”, you swallow hard and step back. The brush of his fingertips around your wrist as he lets go fo you leave a warm trace that lingers. “I’m sorry. I’m going to go now...”, you are unsure how to say goodbye, so you simply wiggle your fingers in the air and walk out your room.

He doesn’t stop you this time.

Needless to say, the rest of the day you can’t help but feel miserable.

He didn’t want you to touch him, he was like that because of you. He probably resented you even. Jimin said being away from you so long made him sick, so he was very much stuck with you until you period came. How delightful...

That couldn’t be easy for someone used to roam freely when he wanted. You didn’t want him to be mad at you. Those days without him made you realize you grown more fond of him that you probably should considering he was not even... fully human. Well, he was a handsome man... and sweet too, so brave, and caring, and well-mannered... and probably the best cuddling-buddy you ever had. You smile to yourself as you replay the way he held you the first night you spent on that couch together, how he had insisted you should rest. Shit, you were totally into him. Even his little ears and tail where endearing to you. But... was he into you? By the way he reacted to your kiss you already knew the answer was a big fat no that laughed at you silly heart.

You let out a disappointed sigh and take a glance at the book Jimin left for you at your apartment mailbox before you returned to work. He even attached a blue post-it note to he cover, that said you should have a good look at chapter four. You brought it to the shop with you to provide some kind of distraction from this quiet day. There weren’t as many customers as usual, and you had a half mind to close up early today.

You’re already done with half of Seokjin‘s order anyway, stored in the freezer at the backroom kitchen. You want to finish the glaze tomorrow so it’s fresh and shiny for his especial event.

You flip the book to the chapter referred by your fox friend and when you read the tittle you understand why he sent you there.

«Chapter four: Felines heat and reproduction.

Female feline hybrids have shown to be extremely fertile, so owners should be careful when they allow them to go through their heat. Intercourse between humans and hybrids is not uncommon, and is more likely a female to get impregnated after sexual intercourse with a male during heats.

There is no specific season for heats to happen within the feline family, but it’s known that a safe environment is crucial for a female to be able to enter her heat. It can happen at any time of the year, and males nearby will react to the hormone increase, preparing themself for breeding. It has been noted when there is no female feline hybrid around, males sometimes will enter their heat during their female owner’s ovulating period. Some catnip based heat suppressant can work better with feline hybrids than chemical based ones if the owner prefers to not have their hybrids go through their usual rut once a month, since it could be a quite painful experiences of here is no relief for the hybrid. (...) On regarding male genitalia, depending on the hybrid’s breed, is posibleㅡthough not commonㅡto find the presence of penile spines around the gland. One purpose of the penile spines on a feline penis is to aid in a female's ovulation. Females hybrids, as it is known, do not ovulate before sexual intercourse. Instead, the barbs stimulate the female‘s vulva during intercourse, which causes her body to then release an egg. This is painful for the female, but part of the pro-.»

“What the hell...?!”, you have to close the book shut and take a deep breath.

What the actual hell? Was this thing real? Holy cow... did it mean Yoongi had actual piercing spines in his-

You glance at the book again in disbelief, the book even provides a graphic drawing depicting an odd looking penis, surrounded by little spines around the base of the head.

“Oh, my God!”

This has to be a joke of some sorts...

The author said some hybrids, not all of them right? He also mentioned it was not common, so you should worry if... Well, not that it’s going to happen anyway. Yoongi doesn’t like you. But... holy shit, could that the reason big cats aren’t as common as other hybrid species like rabbits and dogs? There’s one clear thing in your mind, though... The only way you can actually be sure is to see it for yourself, and you are not quite sure that it is even possible.

Your head is a complete mess right now, so you end up closing earlier anyway. Yoongi said you didn’t have to apologize to him, but you feel like you really have to. He must be so pissed right now, he knows you did this to him, it’s all your fault for suggesting they stayed with you those weeks back, your fault for insisting on sharing the couch with him. You head back home with the book tucked below your arm.

The moment you step inside your apartment, you ear catches the faint sound of a shower running. It gets louder as you get closer to the hallway so you figure it must be coming from the guest’s bathroom. Is Yoongi showering at this hour? You wonder as you head to your room, but can’t help to look back at the bathroom. The door is sightly ajar, and there’s a cloud of steam coming from the inside.

From this close you can hear a soft pant that sounds a lot like Yoongi’s voice mingling with the noise from the shower. It takes you a moment to figure what he must be doing and your cheeks heat up with the mental image. You think back to what Jimin said earlier today and what you just learned from the book in your hand. You know he’s probably trying to find some relief from the pain, it’s would be natural. Still your guilt hasn’t vanished completely, because you know there’s nothing you can actually do to help him.

Except well, grant him some privacy... But he’s naked in the shower, a voice inside your head pulls you closer to the door. This could be it, you could seize the opportunity to check if he had spines or not. Yeah, but why do you care?, Another voice chimes in, it’s not like he would want you, and if he does it would only be because of the heat.

Torn between pry or let things the way they are, you stand frozen between your bedroom door and the bathroom door. Yoongi’s pants intensify, the noises he’s making with his hand makes you realize he’s going faster now. You clench your tights together when a streak of arousal courses through your body. You can only imagine what he must look like, completely wet, heavy breathing with his hand around his shaft and- Fuck, he’s getting closer. You bite your lip, you really want to see him now, but you are already on questionable grounds just by standing there listening to his moans. You know you should leave, but your feet are glued to the floor.

You hear a soft groan, followed by a beat of silence and then heavy pants. The water stops running and you hear some shuffling inside the bathroom. It takes a moment for your lust drunken neurons to understand the situation: he’s coming out and he’s going to find you like a peeping Tom right outside the bathroom.

Your attempt to leave unnoticed goes to the gutter the moment you turn around and in your haste you forget to unlock your bedroom door before you attempt to cross it. A loud thud and you stumble back, cursing your stupidity, one hand clutching the book and the other one comes up to hold your forehead when it crashed against the wooden door.

But your whole body goes rigid the moment you hear someone clearing his throat behind you. “Fuck...”, you hiss and slowly turn around to face Yoongi. He’s only got a white towel wrapped around his hips, but you don’t have time to stare at his beautiful torso, when you catch his eyes glaring at your form.

Eyebrows furrowed and you swallow hard.

Heat comes rushing to your cheeks and you are left a blabbering mess. Fuck, he’s got you. 

“I... I didn’t... I mean-“, you look down at you feet, clutching the book against your chest.

“Are you-?”, he blinks and clear his throat. “How long have you been standing there for?”

Your stomach ties in knots, and you can’t answer him properly. You know you crossed the line here, you invaded his privacy and basically eavesdrop on him jerking off. Your cheeks burn with so much embarrassment you think you are going to pass out. What kind of sick person are you? Why did you have to stay, for Pete’s sake?!

“What is that?”, he steps out of the bathroom and his eyes scan the cover of your book.

“Nothing!”, you exclaim and rush to hide it behind your back. But he snatches it away from your hands before you’ve even got the chance with the same agile movements from earlier. And much to your dismay, he opens it right where you left Jimin’s post-it as a makeshift bookmark. His eyes go through the words in the page and then blinks once.

Twice.

And then he scoffs, obvious indignation washing over his features, before it quickly turns into anger and looks at you.

“Who gave you this?”, his tone borders a growl and you flinch a little.

“Jimin, but-“

“Of course, that asshole fox”, Yoongi spits and rolls his eyes, handing you the book back. “I don’t know what he told you, but I don’t have a cat penis, y/n!”

“Wait, It wasn’t like that I...”, you start apologizing again and again, until you realize what he just said. That he doesn’t have- you blink repeatedly, and stare at him in awe. “You... You don’t?”

“Of course I don’t!”, he frowns but a snicker manages to form on his lips anyway, “What the hell would you even think that?”

“Be-because...”, you lower your gaze. If people could die of embarrassment you are sure you’d be twice dead right now. You heart pounds hard against your chest, and you don’t even know what to say. “I didn’t... it’s just- the book... But the penile spines-“

“For goodness’s sake, y/n...!”, he takes a deep breath and brings a hand to his face. The other rests against his hip, right over the towel.

“Yoongi, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I was just worried it may hurt because- shit... I didn’t mean it like that, I wasn’t thinking-“, you want to disappear in thin air, to dig a hole in the ground, get in it and never get out again. You swallow and take a breath, a hand against your forehead, as if it’d do any good in hiding your shame. “Look, I’m really so, so sorry, Okay? I’ll give you privacy now, I should go and- Uh... fix us something to eat, yeah...”

With that you turn on your heels, wanting to run away and hide in the kitchen for the rest of the evening. Even if you have to sleep on the counter. You can’t face him right now, what horrible things must he be thinking about you now? You must disgust him, on top of the resentment he must feel because of what you did to him.

He’s going to hate you now more than what you hate yourself already.

“Y/n, wait a minute”, he calls for you and you freeze in the spot. Is he going to yell at you? Is he going to tell you how a disgusting human being you are and that he’s leaving and I’ll never come back again- “I can’t have you believing the lies in there”

“What?”, you blink confused and turn around again. And without any warning his towel falls down at his feet and now he stands in front of you in all his naked glory.

Your eyes dart downward to his crotch, following the happy trail that goes from below his belly button to the patch of hair over his pubic bone, and there’s nothing you can do to peel your eyes away from his dick.

Oh boy.

He is bigger than what you had anticipated and he’s only half-hard even though he just came in the showerㅡsomething you pin to the heat he’s going through. A decent length and girth, and you can only imagine what he’d look like fully hard, without the foreskin covering the tip. But you don’t have to wonder for long, because he grabs his shaft with one hand and strokes down to pull gently at the foreskin, revealing the silky head.

“See?”, the tip of his pink tongue protrudes from his lips as he licks them. A smirk in his face, one eyebrow arched. “No penile spines”

You swallow, mouth practically salivating at the sight of him. How can he do this so casually? Touching himself... Does he even know what he’s doing to you? Offering himself to your eager eyes like that.

Your cheeks are flushed. Your mouth hangs open for a moment before you can actually manage to find the words, and even though, you’re still a complete mess.

“That’s quite big- ¡a big relief...! to see you- you don’t have... spines...”, you mentally curse yourself, as you manage to finally tear your eyes from his member and turn your face around, to glance at the empty wall next to you.

“Good. Curiosity sated then”, you still can see him through the corner of your eye as he bends down to pick his towel up and wrap it around his waist again. A part of your can’t help but feel disappointed, but a nervous thrill shoots down your spine when you notice him drawing closer to you. Your body turns to him like a piece of metal to a magnet, and he’s god an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You can ask me if you have any questions, just throw away that stupid old book. Okay?”.

You take a deep breath and nod. He smells so good after just having a shower, and you a dying to run your fingers through the modest curve of his pecs to collect the few water drops that still linger on his skin.

“Are you okay, y/n?”, he takes another step closer and you back away, your back hitting the hallway’s wall and the book falls from your hands. He only gets closer and rest a hand on the wall just over your shoulder. You manage to mutter a quiet “I’m fine” under your breath, it’s less than a whisper but he catches it anyway and hums in response.

He comes closer, and suddenly he’s pressing his chest against your own.

Your heart feels like is about to explode, and his closeness does nothing to alleviate the arousal that pulses in your lower belly. You bite your lip when he leans closer to whisper in your ear. His warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin sends shivers down your spine.

You have to bite your lip to avoid the pathetic whimper that threatens to come out. 

“You smell delicious...”, his voice is deep, low, rumbling inside his chest like a purr. “Did you like spying on me that much, huh?”

He’s making you so wet and he hasn’t even touch you yet. You can feel your underwear dampening under your jeans, and you can tell he’s aroused too by the way the towel stretches in a tent around his groin. But you know this is only the heat speaking, this isn’t really him wanting you and when you manage to remember that, your lust-clouded mind clears enough to find your tongue again.

“Yoongi, I’m sorry. That was inappropriate of me, I shouldn’t have...”. Your words get caught in your throat when you feel his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I’m sorry...”

“You already know what is happening, don’t you?”, his lips hover a few inches away from your ear and you take a deep breath.

“Jimin said... that I- That I might have triggered your heat. I’m really sorry, I didn’t know...”, You don’t know if you want to look him in the face, but you need him away from your neck or you are going to end up doing something you’ll regret.

You try your best to scurry to the side, but he stamps the other hand against the wall, trapping you in his arms. His lips connect to your neck and before you know it, he’s sucking at your sweet spot, eliciting a moan from your lips.

Your hands dart forward, looking for support against his arms. He presses his hips forward to your own in response and you can feel his erection pressing on your thigh behind the towel. His lips travel up your neck kissing your jaw, before the land on your lips. His kiss is hungry and desperate, but his lips are soft against your own. His tongue finds it way to the inside of your mouth with little resistance, fueling the fire that had begun to grown in your lower abdomen. It’s been a while since a man kissed you like this, passionate, like his tongue is made of liquid fire. 

He sucks and bites and all you can do is moan at the pleasure.

His is hands skim down your waist, to land over your ass and squeeze it.

That’s when you react, and push him away. 

He stumbles back a little, and looks at you with hooded eyes. For the first time since that started you get to see his face. The amber is almost gone form his eyes, his pupils are blown dark with lust and sight clouded in lust. A pink blush dusts across his cheeks and his chest, and his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

“I’m sorry- I... I don’t want you to hate me...”, you mumble, legs trembling as you struggle to maintain eye contact with the breathtakingly handsome half-naked hybrid in front of you. “I- I know it’s all because of the heat and... I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret when you are back to normal. I don’t want to take advantage of you like this, Yoongi... I can’t do it”.

He regards you for a moment, the cloud in his eyes disappears and a heavy sigh leaves his lips. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, with one hand he brushes his hair back and takes a deep breath. When his eyes find yours again, there’s no more black lust, but a warm amber looking back at you.

“Do you really think I would let it happen if I didn’t want you?”, he asks, and you can’t find a way to respond to that. What is he saying? That he’s not in heat? Or that he deliberately let his heat happen by being close to you?

He must see your confusion on your face, because he draws closer, cupping your face gently with both hands.

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you, y/n...”

Your heart skips a beat, and you stare at him in at loss of words. You only react when you notice he’s leaning closer again, his eyes fixed in your lips.

“But earlier you-!”, You place your hands on his chest and push him just a little to force his eyes back on yours. His skin feels warm and cold at the same time.“You didn’t even want me to touch you this morning... I thought you resented me for triggering your heat”

Yoongi shakes his head, a defeated sigh leaves his lips when he looks at you again.

“I panicked because that fox’s scent was all over you...” he scrunches his nose with disgust. His hands leave your cheeks to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “You weren’t supposed to smell like him, I had scented you before I left that day”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment again.

“You- you what?”

“I scented you”, he repeats as if it’s the most normal thing to say.

“What does that even mean, Yoongi?”, you whine and a smirk forms in his lips. He brings his lips closer to your ear again.

“It means that I want everyone else to know you are mine...”, he whispers. His hands sneaking up your blouse, caressing the skin of your lower back. “I want to claim you, y/n. And I think you want the same... I can smell your arousal dripping to your underwear”

“Fuck...”, your head falls to the side, leaving your neck exposed to his greedy tongue. He wastes no time in lavishing your skin with kisses, and you moan under his lips. “Yoongi...”

“Don’t you want me?”, he whispers again, lips trailing kisses down your collarbones now. 

You bite your lip, and your hand travel up his chest to dig into his raven locks.

“Of course, I do...”, you sound so breathless already. He reaches for your lips again with his own. His hands reach for the back of your knees to pull you up from the ground, so that you wrap your legs around his waist.

He holds you there, against the wall, his bulge pressing against your clothed core as he continues to kiss you just as fervently as before. He breaks from you just a moment. 

“Then I’m going to make you mine now if that’s okay with you”, he whispers against your swollen lips.

“God, yes...”, you whine and that’s all he needs to hear before he captures your lips one more time. After he’s done with you, he’s going to make sure there’s he no traces of that fox’s scent left on you.

[edmund-valks]

A Family Reunion - Part I

Traveling the Ghostlands on foot was always an experience, and never the good kind.  Under the circumstances, a trip through the Nightwood was probably inadvisable, so she'd had to ask Miss Winford for the favour of a portal. Hopefully she'd be taking the Nightwood back, though.  Otherwise the trip home was probably wasted and returning to the Respite would take far longer than she'd planned for.

So far she'd had to kill several large spiders, one troll she regrettably had no way to collect pieces from, and a small batch of the angry dead.  Not the high-quality kind, thankfully, so it had barely dented her small stash of grenades.  The Scourge really only cared about numbers, not the craft, which was kind of upsetting on a personal level, even if she understood it from a waging-war-on-all-life perspective.

But that wasn't her problem.  Right now she had to decide the best way to approach her homeland, meaning the way that was least likely to get her killed.  The easiest paths were closed to her, and even the hard ways had little trinkets one could use to make them easier.  She had none.  She'd never needed them before, so she hadn't thought to palm a few during her previous visit.

Still.  Here she was.  The portal hadn't been a disaster, she was unharmed, and the western border of what Quel'thalas tried and failed to claim was before her.  That was the real danger, not stray nerubians or mummified trolls.  It was where her family lived and they were not fond of visitors.

Gear check, she thought.  Last chance to remember where everything is in an emergency.  One eye on the invisible line separating the Ghostlands from her childhood home, Ilandreline knelt down to make sure what she needed was where she'd find it.

Her family knife was on her belt, resting lightly alongside the leg of the coverall she'd worn.  That was the most important thing, but it was hardly her only weapon.  Two smaller knives of less sentimental value were stashed in the sleeves of her kodohide bike jacket, one in each.  There were four small grenades remaining: one frag, one smoke, two blinding.  She put the last two on her belt, opposite the ritual blade.  The others could stay in the satchel.

Everything else was boring: a change of clothes, food, water, a multitool, two half-pint jars of viscous purple liquid.  Oh, and that handy preparation Miss Winford had given her back in the Plaguelands.  She tucked the vial into one of her more accessible pockets.  Never knew when something like that would come in handy.

Content with her accounting and organization, Ilandreline took a few minutes more to arrange her bags and pack properly.  A lot of people didn't realize how easily you could die if you weren't willing (and able) to abandon your possessions.  Especially here.  She idly wondered how many of the elves over in Tranquillien had found that out.  There were only a few she remembered being brought in to join the Endless Dark, but the forest was hostile enough even before her family got involved.

Enough stalling.  With one more tug on the backpack's straps to get them just right, Ila squared her shoulders.  You can do this.  You've done it before.  Except before she wasn't trying to sneak in to talk to her grandmother.  Before she'd been sure the forest knew she belonged.  Before she hadn't been truly alone.

"Fuck 'em," she said aloud.  "Let 'em try and stop me."  She broke into a sustainable jog, waiting until the uncanny darkness had swallowed her before removing her goggles.  Some things could only be seen by the eyes of a Glimmerbow, and those were always the most dangerous.

***

Things had changed in the last fifty years.

The possibility hadn't really occurred to her -- planning wasn't exactly her strong suit -- and now she was regretting it.  What should have been an easy trip among undead patrols and the occasional angry shade had turned into a constant game of evasion and guerilla strikes to keep from being clobbered by angry bones.  Ila deeply regretted leaving her largest wrench at the farm; it was perfect for bashing skeletons into pieces.  It was also too heavy for extended use and detrimental to any attempt at stealth.

For the moment she was catching her breath in the lower branches of a tree.  What kind, she didn't know.  It was too twisted by local conditions to recognize unless you were really into trees.  Meaning her mother would know.  Not that Ilandreline had any plan on asking her about it, but… She sighed.  Wasn't there supposed to be some deep, unbreakable bond between mother and daughter?  She was fairly certain there was, but Mellura'thel must've missed the memo.  Unless it's my fault, I guess.  That wasn't a great thought, so she pushed it away.

Focus.  There were several shades she could see, drifting aimlessly through the trees.  Though they looked harmless, she knew they would either try to possess her or leech all the warmth from her body.  They didn't recognize family members, couldn't distinguish those who belonged from those who didn't.  Such an oversight seemed careless until one remembered their relatives were possibly more dangerous than whatever was in the woods.

A more traditional member of the family wouldn't be threatened by most of these creatures anyway.  Everyone had a basic knowledge of necromancy, at least enough to chastise an angry shade.  Even Ila could have managed it if she'd had any spark of magic; she knew enough theory to where she probably could have taught someone else how.  That wasn't an option, though, so here she was, perched in a tree, trying to figure out how to avoid dying to a distant cousin's creations.

Grenades weren't much use against the ethereal, nor were knives.  She could have probably cobbled together an ectoplasmic disruptor in her lab, but that wasn't much help in the present.  That left only a few workable options.  She processed them as she would any other list of branch-paths.

One: don't get seen or caught.  Pros: effective, requires no equipment.  Cons: really damn hard to manage, no backup if it went wrong.

Two: leave and go back to the Respite.  Pros: low risk, nicer people, could prepare and come back later.  Cons: lots of wasted time, would have to get close to either Silvermoon or the Argent Crusade, wouldn't actually help literally anything.

Three: sprint.  Pros: will be over fast one way or the other, exercise is good.  Cons: terrible idea even by her often questionable standards, likely to get her killed, would do nothing to address the threat of the area's living defenders.

None were great; she wasn't sure any were good.  Choosing between three flavours of awful wasn't ideal, but it had to be done.  Option Two was out, meaning… Option One, with Option Three as the contingency?  She grimaced, washed down some of her trail rations with a mouthful of water, and started mapping her route through the patrolling horrors.

The only good news was there wouldn't be any mechanical traps.  She hadn't installed them, therefore they didn't exist.  Magical traps, however, were almost a guarantee, along with mundane things like hunting snares.  Those were fine.  They were intended to take people alive, unlike everything before them.  Even if she got caught at that point, she could probably argue her way out of consequences.  Probably.

Committed to her decision, a path chosen, Ilandreline waited for the nearest shade to be safely distant before dropping back to the ground.  She rolled to ease the shock to her legs.  Just like when we were kids.  Then she was on her feet, moving with as much speed as she could manage in some kind of silence.

Most people assumed shades could hear as well as the average person.  More learned individuals knew their residing in an ethereal state left them cut off from such physical phenomena.  Both were wrong.  They could hear, but it was like through a heavy fog or maybe a blanket.  That meant you could get away with a certain amount of noise, just not being in their field of view.  Precisely what amount was a bit nebulous, but that's what made it so exciting.  Like when you weren't sure what kind of game you were playing or if the other kids had brought daggers without telling you.

She'd been very good at these games as a child, before she'd understood the stakes.  Nowadays she was better prepared; hopefully that would minimize the impact of being a bit rusty.  Sneaking around Ashenvale or Andorhal wasn't quite the same life-or-death situation as the family's summer night festivities.  Those experiences were why she kept her hair too short to get in her eyes, why she always wore something more form-fitting under her robes.  Why she always carried a knife, too.

That served her well now.  She avoided the first of the shades without incident and began picking her way through the next one's path.  Line of sight was a double-edged sword: she didn't want to be seen, but it also meant she couldn't be certain the entity was going where she expected.  Her heartbeat was louder in her ears than her footsteps, strong and rapid with the influx of adrenaline.  The effect warped time as well -- every moment without knowing where the shade was stretched into eternity, every one where it was visible infinitely shorter than needed.

But suddenly she was through the second ring, moving into what she hoped was still the last of the minion-patrolled sections.  In fits and starts she moved from tree to tree, barely breathing.  Her footsteps weren't silent, but light enough to avoid complications.  Somehow, some way, she didn't snap a branch or fall on her face.  The shiver of passing through the barrier came over her and… that was that.  The undead and shadow creatures were on the other side, couldn't sense her any longer.  Relief flooded her, premature though she knew it was.  Whatever happened next wasn't going to involve having her soul sucked out through her eyeballs or whatever.  Not without an argument, at least.

Exhaling all the stress and fear she hadn't been entirely conscious of, Ilandreline took a step forward, almost smiling for the half second she had before she felt the trap under her foot.  Despite instantly pulling her foot back, she wasn't fast enough to avoid the curl of wire going taut around her ankle.  Only the durable fabric of her jumpsuit and the fact she stopped moving immediately kept the sharpened filament from actually cutting into her ankle.  Swearing, she knelt down to check for a way to extricate herself without sawing off the whole foot.

The mechanism was simple -- it had to be since it was being made by Jaelenash, and he was a competent smith, not a good one -- but she needed to make sure whoever designed it wasn't smarter than she was.  For instance, if it was one of her traps, there'd be an obvious way to disarm it that would actually be a trap of its own.  Ila sighed, regretting on her family's behalf what they'd missed out on when nobody had taken her chosen profession seriously.  She pulled the multitool from its sheath on her belt, unfolding it to get what she needed.  Taking out the wire wasn't easy without causing damage, so she'd have to work on the frame holding everything together.  If she put the blade there and then twisted like so-

Thrum.

Her whole body went flat reflexively.  The razor-snare sheared through the canvas with the new motion, digging painfully into the flesh inches above her ankle, but at least the arrow missed.  It passed through where she'd been, so well-aimed she watched it pass directly overhead.  Black fletching, tiger stripes in alternating red and silver.  She knew those arrows.  "Put it away, Teth!  I'm here to see Grandmother!"

She heard quiet swearing, giving her the chance to snip the metal loop that had given her a bloody leg.  He didn't need to know that, though.  Ila peeked her head up from the undergrowth, looking for her distant relation.  Where was he hiding?  It wasn't clear he intended to stop trying to put arrows in her, so figuring where he was seemed important.  She slipped a decent length of the trap-wire into a pocket while she searched.  No reason to let it go to waste.

"You really going to kill a family member, Teth?  Particularly one who declared her purpose and just wants to see Grandmother?"  The answer was probably yes, but asking was polite.  The engineer eased her sight above the plant cover with trepidation, trying to watch every direction at once.

Once again her hearing saved her life.  She heard the bow creak as he drew the arrow back, could almost visualize the whole scene.  There you are.  Her roll started right before he loosed, giving plenty of space to the shot.  It would have been safest to stop behind the nearest tree, but she kept rolling sideways until she was at the one after.  Should give her a good angle.

"You're not family," he said, sounding annoyed.  Petulant, maybe?  "For all I know you're wearing that form to sneak in and kill us."

That was bullshit and he knew it.  Not because it hadn't happened -- it had, but back when Mellura'thel was still on her first (or was it second?) husband.  They'd fixed that gap in their defenses afterward.  The shades and the barrier were the result.  Pointing her mouth away from where she intended to be, she responded.  "Of course I'm family, we used to play hide and seek here.  You, me, our brothers and sisters.  How is your sister, anyway?  She still got that fungal thing in her leg?"  That earned her another arrow, but it was way off the mark.  Grinning to herself, she scurried toward another hiding space.

Closer, not yet close enough.  She knew where Teth was, even if she couldn't remember his full name.  He didn't seem to realize she was more behind him than in front.  Good.  Gave her time to figure out what the correct social response was under the circumstances.  It was considered very rude to kill someone for doubting you were family, but did that apply here?  He knew she was.  Hell, he'd given her brother a scar, and their sisters had been engaged briefly.  So he definitely shouldn't be killing her, but did that mean she had to keep him alive?  Probably.  Again, rude to kill family, regardless of circumstance.  She sighed silently.

"Don't you dare talk about my sister," he growled, treading carefully through the knee-high brush.  As she watched, he abruptly shifted direction, apparently curving around something.  Interesting; another trap, if she had to guess.  "Your whole family lost that right years ago."

What?  Oh, right!  She'd forgotten how that engagement had ended.  It hadn't been pretty.  Unless she was misremembering, that had been when his little brother had died.  Not a big loss, to her mind, but he probably felt otherwise.  Although that did give her an idea…  "Fine, fine.  What about Glairien, then?  How's he doing?"

He spun suddenly, drilling an arrow dead center into the tree she'd skipped over.  A quick assessment of his face suggested a pictorial reference for the phrase "contorted in rage".  Great, you pissed him off.  Could be for the best, though.  An angry person made mistakes a cooler head wouldn't.  "You'll die for that, Ilandreline, as all of you should have back then!"

Diplomacy was definitely out.  Probably mentioning the dead brother wasn't the best idea, despite the effectiveness at getting a response.  That left one more thing to try before she could act freely.  "Oh, right, sorry.  I forgot."  She hadn't.  Glairien had been an absolute prick and if they hadn't killed him, someone else would have.  "You sure you want to piss off Grandmother, though?  You know how she gets when someone goes against her, and she's made it clear she's the only one who gets to decide if someone meets with her."

"I don't need her permission to defend my home.  She knows better than to get in Grandfather's way."

Ah.  So that was it.  The old game continued.  He -- so his whole family-group, most likely -- was on the other side.  No wonder his brother had been so awful.  She grabbed a length of fallen branch at the same time she pulled a blinding grenade from her belt.  Ila tossed both in quick succession, the first to make noise to get his attention (success!), the second to ruin his vision.  His scream after the detonation indicated it had worked.

She charged from her hiding spot, making more noise than intended.  He shot another arrow, blind as he was.  It wasn't even a bad shot, but it deflected off the reinforced shoulders of her jacket.  Committed as she was, Ilandreline didn't slow, gritting her teeth through the stinging pain in her leg from where the trap had cut her.

A better fighter might have performed some graceful or devastating maneuver to end the fight in a single blow.  What she did was execute a flying two-legged dropkick directly into his sternum.  His bow and breath departed in opposite directions from his body, which flew back.  Teth landed with a heavy thump and the sound of a thin covering giving way.  A split-second later there was another, wetter sound.  No screaming though, surprisingly.

Slinking over to the area where her cousin had disappeared into the pit trap he'd avoided earlier, Ilandreline took a peek at her handiwork.  About two meters below the surface she stood on, he lay in a semi-crumpled heap, unconscious.  There was a length of sharpened wood -- many, really, but only one he'd managed to land on -- through the middle of his forearm.  Clear through, having slid between the bones and broken them in the process, by the look of things.  No wonder he hadn't screamed; he'd probably gone into shock before the landing had concussed him.

For a moment, she considered hopping in to help him.  Whether she meant help him live or into the next life, she couldn't decide, so she decided to pass on it altogether.  She'd been taught to never be indecisive about treatment.  Reason enough not to do any treating in this case.  What she did do was take his knife.  And break his bow, of course, because fuck him.

Having received the warm welcome she'd expected, Ila hurried off into the deeper territory, where Grandmother held more sway and people might think she should be taken alive.

[megalony]

Our boy- Part 7

Another part to my Roger Taylor series that I hope everyone is enjoying so far.

Permanent taglist: @marshmallowmae @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan

Series taglist: @bohemiansweede

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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What were they meant to do?

Each of the three men had witnessed their drummer intoxicated before, that was clearly a given from the late night parties that could last a day that was thrown here, there and everywhere. Even when they were a small-time band playing gigs wherever they could get them, they had always seen one another drunk before.

But not like this.

Roger wasn't the usual kind of drunk they were used to, he wasn't giggling, he wasn't swaying or asking where he was. He wasn't shouting or talking too loud thinking he was being quiet. Roger wasn't staggering down the street in a fit of laughter unsure what he was even laughing about anymore. Their drummer was sitting on the blood red sofa with a bottle of beer in his hand and an empty glass of whiskey at his feet which showed only half the story of what he had taken that day. Their drummer had split knuckles on his right hand that were caked with dried blood and beginning to form bruises. Roger, who was each of their best friend had scratches running from his knuckles down his fingers that seemed like they had scraped against a brick wall.

Their Roger had eyes that were painted a navy blue that was mixing with a light purple, the kind of colours you would expect to see in a painting of the stars in the midnight or very early morning sky. He held blood vessels around his eyes that were so prominent each band member thought they were going to burst. The whites of his eyes were no longer white but glistening with the palest form of dusty rouge they had ever seen that was so subtle John wondered if it was even there.

Roger's face was no longer the usual pale colour it normally was, nor was it darker from a tan that he was always guaranteed to get when they went on tour or simply abroad. His skin was mixed like a canvas, his face was no longer pale but a burning red as if he was sitting in front of a large fire simply radiating heat. His cheeks flushed and dotted with darker colours of red that looked like blotches of ink dripped from a fountain pen. His neck seemed to fade to a different, more pinker shade of red as the artery in his neck made itself known, bulging through the skin determined to be noticed. The rest of his exposed skin seemed to turn almost grey which they guessed was due to the drummer drinking himself into oblivion instead of caring for himself and eating and sleeping properly.

This new version of Roger sitting in front of them was crying.

The drummer didn't cry in front of them, it just simply wasn't a reality for them all. He could shed happy tears, he could have one tear of frustration creeping up in the corner of his eye but never streams of tears like this. Roger never held the ability to cry for any reason other than happiness in front of them. He seemed to carefree for that.

To see him sobbing his heart out that was broken and shattered in his chest was horrifying to all of them. They had never seen his bottom lip quiver in such a way it was like a leaf in a tornado. They had never seen his face flush with salt water like this or his eyes completely swamped with water. Never having witnessed the broken sobs escaping his lips or the sniffs or hitches in his breath that showed he couldn't seem to breathe at a normal rate anymore.

This version of Roger was one that neither Freddie, Brian or John had encountered before. They were rendered useless because they didn't know what the protocol was to help him when he was like this.

"I think that might be enough now." John was the first to speak, his voice eerily quiet as he reached for the green bottle in the drummer's hand that was half full. Half a bottle of alcohol that would do nothing but aid the hangover Roger was clearly going to have in the morning and prompt him to be sick since they all knew he hadn't been eating properly, if at all. The bassist's attempt at taking the bottle from Roger was in vain, the drummer was drunk beyond belief but he was still quick to react. His arm quickly but clumsily moving out of John's reach, spilling the beer over his wrist.

"'M not dead yet." Roger sneered, wanting to drink himself into oblivion because he couldn't take being in the real world any longer than this. Being sober hurt so much, being drunk took some of that away but being unconscious would get rid of everything.

"And I'd like to keep it that way, I know it hurts-" John's efforts to help his friend were in vain.

Roger was each band member's best friend, he and Freddie had worked together on the market before being in the band. He and Brian met in university and were in their first proper band together. He and John were the younger ones of the band and got along like a house on fire. Roger was like the glue that kept them together, but he couldn't keep his broken pieces in tact anymore. When he was like this his friends weren't going to be enough to help him because there was nothing they could do.

John's kind words and his level of sympathy wasn't going to bring back Roger's son. It wasn't going to make today any easier for the drummer and the amount of love John held for his friend was never going to fill the void breaking Roger apart.

Roger's temper was being fueled by his pain and that made him crueller than he could ever be. He never wanted to be harsh to his friends because they were his family but he couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't act okay in front of them like he had been doing for the past two weeks. Roger couldn't hold himself together and he couldn't continue to try and act like he was managing okay because he wasn't. Life wasn't fair and Roger had been shattered like a broken mirror that meant nothing to anyone. Fate didn't care if Roger broke down like this and it didn't care how he felt, so why should he care about anyone else?

"No you don't, Deaky!" Roger snapped, his eyes full of a venom that turned his iris' shades darker so his natural ocean blue eyes were now turning navy blue and verging on jet black. His body trembling like someone was shaking him vigourously as he stared at one of his beloved friends in so much turmoil John had to look away to save himself. "Four kids and you haven't lost one! How is that fucking fair? Why do you get three healthy boys but I have to put my only son in a grave? You haven't held your dead child Deaky and you never will but James is dead and gone. Why wasn't it you?!"

Freddie and Brian shared extremely worried looks, unsure of how John would react to that kind of comment.

Roger was hurting, if he was sober he would never have said such a rude and uncaring thing to John but the matter was, he said it. He implied that John should have lost a child by now and he implied he wished it was John instead of him. That wasn't fair.

The drummer felt that the odds were against him and he didn't like it. He saw John so happy every time he had a child and Roger had felt that the first time, he felt the pride and the love and the overwhelming feeling of protection he had seen John have. With James, all Roger felt was love and agony. He felt guilty because he was blaming himself for the way things had turned out. He saw John with four children and himself with two, one alive and the other now in the ground. Roger had one boy who was now dead but John had three who were all alive and well and Roger didn't like those odds. He didn't like the truth because the truth always hurts.

John felt his stomach churning at those words that were spat with poison intent to kill. He pressed a hand to his mouth, unsure if he was doing so to stop himself from snapping back at his friend or to stop a scream from escaping. His head turned away before his body followed in suit. His eyes trained on the floor, not one word passing through his lips nor one look being sent to any member of the band before he disappeared from sight.

It would do John no good to shout at Roger because it wouldn't impact the drummer at all like his words had impacted John. It also wouldn't be fair, Roger was lashing out because he had lost a child, John would be lashing out to defend his children against the rudeness Roger spouted from his drunken state. He couldn't do it, it was too much effort and pain to start an argument that Roger would make sure he won. Leaving was his only choice, he had turned up at seven in the evening to see if Roger was okay after the band got a call saying he had gone there when they were closing up and refused to leave. John saw Roger wasn't okay and he could do nothing for him, there was no point in him staying.

"Rog, don't do this. Let us take you back to Fred's for the night." Brian wasn't in the mood to argue with Roger. He was used to the petty squabbles they usually had, it was normal for them to clash horns but never on something like this. Brian wasn't fighting Roger when he was as shattered as this, it wasn't fair and it wasn't needed.

"I don't want your shitty sympathy Brian, I want my son back! Can you do that for me?" Part of Roger was pleading for Brian to do the ultimate impossible act, to bring the dead back to life. The other part of him was begging for his friend to stop trying to be nice he didn't want nor feel he deserved it.

The drummer would give and do anything in the entire world to bring James back. He would give all the money he had and was ever likely to have in order to get his son back. Roger would trade places with James if it would bring him back and let (Y/n) have her boy back. Roger would do anything, he would commit any sin he needed, he would do any number of good deeds if it would bring James back. But no one held the power to do that for Roger and the sad thing was Roger knew this. He knew there was no way in this universe that he was getting back the one person he desired the most and yet he still wanted to plead with anyone to do that one simple thing for him.

It was the only thing Roger wanted, like a child with one thing on their Christmas list. One thing that no one in the world was ever going to be able to give him.

"I'm not here to give you sympathy, I'm here to stop you drinking yourself into a coma. Let us take you back, this won't do you any good." If Roger didn't want sympathy Brian wouldn't give it to him. He would shout at his friend if need be just to get him to go back with Fred and get some sleep and something to eat when he was more sober than this. They weren't leaving Roger here and they weren't letting him go out and get even more plastered than he already was. They had all made the mistake of leaving him alone earlier today and they weren't doing that again.

Today had been the day of James' funeral and the boys had one along with Roger, wanting to be some kind of moral support. Freddie seemed to be the one who could get through to Roger the most. When the service had ended Roger wouldn't leave, he sat down in the mud with his legs crossed, simply staring down at the mud slowly beginning to be thrown over his boy. No one but Freddie had managed to get him to leave. He'd sat with the drummer next to the grave for a while, whispering things no one else could hear until Roger finally got to his feet, accepting a long-lasting hug from his friend before he disappeared. All now seeing he had gone to get drunk.

"Just piss off."

"I'm not leaving you like this-"

"I don't want your help Brian. How can you help me, hmm? Have you gone through this, no! You and John have all your kids intact tucked up in bed at home. I have Rosie but I lost James. You haven't paid for your sins Brian, you cheated more than once and you haven't lost a child. Why is it me?" Roger was helpless because he didn't want help. He didn't see how they could help him in the way that he wanted or needed. Brian had three children and all of them were perfectly fine and healthy, he hadn't lost one so he couldn't comfort Roger or tell him that things would get better with time.

Roger wondered if this was his sin for cheating on his wife, but Brian had cheated before and he hadn't lost a child because of it. Roger wondered if he lost James because he chose science over nature. He chose to have James early because he chose (Y/n) over his son and he had paid the ultimate price for that kind of betrayal.

He didn't deserve help.

"There is no reason for this Roger! Don't accept our help then, but think of (Y/n), you do this shit it affects her too. You're leaving her to deal with your mess because you won't let us help." Brian snapped back, choosing to ignore the comments about his own children like John did. If Roger pushed them all away he was going to hurt more people than just himself. If he didn't let them help he was leaving (Y/n) to pick up his broken pieces and she needed to hold herself together at the same time. This wasn't fair to anyone.

"James is dead because I thought of (Y/n) over him! I chose her and he fucking died. I deserve to die with him." The bottle in Roger's hand hit the glass window separating the room they were in with the recording room opposite. Shards of green glass splintering into the carpet and landing on the control panel beneath the window which would leave a tricky mess for someone to have to clean up later.

Roger's body shot up like a spring until he wobbled on shaking legs. His eyes turning to Freddie who had stayed silent this whole interaction. Roger was his best friend and seeing him this hurt made Freddie feel the same pain. He didn't have children, he didn't know what it was like to lose your flesh and blood in that way, he didn't know what it was like to have a child in the first place. But he felt something similar when Roger had Rosie, he felt that proud feeling and the overwhelming sense of love for his Goddaughter when he first laid eyes on her.

Freddie knew words were not what Roger needed at this moment. He didn't need sympathy or an argument that he wanted to win. Roger didn't need someone to tell him how his future was going to plan out, nor did he need someone to tell him that everything was going to be alright and that they would help him through it.

When the singer walked forward to stand in front of him, one simple look passed between them before Roger crumbled like a brick wall turned to dust. His knees caved in, his stomach tensed and his chest heaved as his head fell onto the singer's shoulder. His arms wrapping tightly around Freddie's neck to stop himself from crashing to the ground in a heap. He needed a hug from someone who knew him almost better than he knew himself. From someone who knew just how to help without needing to say anything at all.

Roger needed Freddie.

Freddie held the drummer up as if he weighed nothing. He wrapped his arms around his friend's torso and held him to his chest as if he were trying to stuff Roger right into his heart and keep him there until he was mended again. His love for his friend seemed to seep out and wrap around Roger like vines, and the drummer welcomed the feeling with open arms. He let the drummer cry into his shoulder, he held him as a guttural scream escaped his lips and vibrated through Freddie's system in the worst possible way.

He listened to the small remarks and pleas leaving Roger's lips about bringing James back, knowing full well no one could do that for Roger no matter how many times he pleaded and whoever he pleaded to.

"I want him back."

All Freddie could offer was to hold him up when he was about to fall down, and right now that was enough.

[dreamdaddydutch]

Can you do Javier falling in love with his s/o who's bronte daughter and thanking her virginity

I’m really sorry this has taken me forever to write/post, life has really gotten in the way recently. I’m not sure if you wanted just head-canons or something short, but this ended up super long, one of the longest things i’ve written for this fandom… I enjoyed writing it but also found it quite challenging as I imagine Javier as someone who would only be intimate with someone he had gotten to know, become friends with and trusted. Which is why this ended up so long! Also I deviate a little from events in the game and add characters in places they were not for the sake of the story. I’m not a 100% happy with it, but I hope you enjoy! 

Warnings: Angst, Death & Smut (not a lot)  Word Count: 6,052

The first time he’d met her he should have known she’d be trouble, there was just something about her.It was in the way she surveyed the saloon and navigated her way through it, her movements weren’t natural. It was like watching a fawn walk for the first time, all springy legs with no direction.

Javier was a little drunk, not so drunk that he wasn’t aware of what was going on, but drunk enough that he let his guard down just a little. 

She made eye contact with Javier from across the bar, he looked behind him, unsure if her eyes were meant for him. When he awkwardly pointed at himself, she giggled.

She sat at their table with no idea who they were, chatting away, a head full of ideas.

Javier had his reservations, he wouldn’t let just anyone in to his life, he had a close circle in a few particular members of the van der Linde gang. Generally speaking outside of that he didn’t allow himself to get close to anyone, and aside from Abigail in the early days, he hadn’t allowed any form of relationship to blossom with any man or woman. 

So when he first met Marie he’d gotten to know her slowly, over a course of a number of months before he really let her know him. Meeting up in secret at saloons or taking her fishing. They were just friends, he established that from the start, was ever cautious not to let her in too much. There was a certain degree of pride in his actions for sure, he had to get to know her slowly and build up trust.

Even when he was certain she could be trusted and that they had a chance at a future together, he did little more than kiss her. He had learnt back in Mexico how easily trust could be misplaced and how quickly a relationship could go from perfection to in tatters. 

The first kiss had been…nice but almost strange to him, the woman he was kissing clearly didn’t have much experience. Maybe on reflection he thought this should have been a sign, for someone of her age he found it strange she’d never been in love when younger or made a mistake like so many others. But he pushed those fears to the back of his mind, maybe it was her upbringing that had made her so cautious, not a bad thing he mused. 

So after the first kiss, they continued to take it slow. The lack of sex or any sexual contact wasn’t an issue for him, rather he enjoyed the close company of another without those expectations and being able to get to know someone without it being driven by lust. 

She spoke of her family, how her father was a doctor but had died some years ago and that her mother had died during childbirth when her little brother was born. She’d told him how she believed that was what killed her father in the end, the irony that in being a great doctor, he was unable to save his own wife, the woman whom was the love of his life.

Tragic really, the situation had broken Marie’s heart, her siblings had moved away, she still saw them once or twice a year, taking it in turns to travel across states. Aside from that, she worked cleaning a shop and as a seamstress, mostly mending clothes.

As Javier and Marie spent most of their time together in evenings or odd days, he never saw her at work, he never met her siblings. But months later, in the aftermath of what was about to happen, he cursed himself for being so easily drawn her, for being gullible, for not asking more questions. There were things which when he really thought about it, didn’t add up. He cursed himself for not being more cautious of her in light of what happened to him previously. 

But Marie was a good liar, he consoled himself with that at least, he had been careful and slow. He had made sure they were friends before lovers, he had done everything he believed he could to avoid being betrayed again, and yet it had happened so easily. 

It was after seven months of friendship, occasional lasting kisses and lingering hugs under the stars that Marie opened up to him.

“There’s something you should know about me.” When she spoke the words she hadn’t been thinking about the repercussions, she hadn’t really thought about the meaning behind her words. She had thought so long about how she would approach the subject, but like most things, it just happened.

Javier looked up from the book he was reading, “Something interesting?” He asked coyly.

She smiled, “I think so, though,” the tremble of her lips was unmistakable. 

Javier placed the book down on the bedside and scooted closer to her, his head cocked to the side, one hand placed reassuringly on her knee, “Hey, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fine, we trust each other, no?”

The sigh she gave was full of years of resentment towards her real father, the one Javier knew nothing of. The father she had spoken to him about, was imaginary, a ghost, a dream. 

The reality couldn’t have been further from the tales she’d woven. All parts missing and commas in places that didn’t need them. The lies, the stories with changed endings, false hope and promises that reminded her of dying sun the day before a storm, when the water of the ocean glistens gold only to break into crushing waves capable of capsizing a ship. 

She stared at her knee, looked at the way Javier’s hand was placed so carefully on top of it, his voice ached with concern when he spoke to her, this is how he was she had leant that early on. His care was what she loved so dearly about him, though at time it was almost suffocating, how she wished she could break free from all restrain. 

“Of course I trust you and I hope you me?” 

She glanced up at him, he replied with a nod. 

That was the moment, if ever there was one, that should have been the moment when she told him the real truth, the eternal pressing matter that had been bothering her since their very first kiss. Too late she realised that the truth would have been better coming earlier, so that the path they were led down would have been different, would have meant something more.

Through the window orange sunlight beamed through, making her cheeks glow, fruitful, her love in abundance. She appeared to him like an angel then, all the potential of a future, a family, hope. 

Yes, she’d think with melancholia just a few months later, I should have told him then. 

But she didn’t, she told him the other truth, the part of her that she felt was guaranteed to make him love her more.

“I’ve never been in love before,” she stated matter of factly. Before Javier had a chance to react, she continued, “I’ve never been in love and that means that I’ve never, I mean I know sometimes when people aren’t in love, sometimes people who’ve only just met do it. But I guess what I’m trying to tell you is…” She took a deep breath, “I’m a virgin.”

Javier’s hands took hers in his own, he was wordless, letting his actions do the talking. His fingers laced with hers, squeezed her reassuringly. The smile that he wore wasn’t one of glee, like a lion about to pounce on it’s prey, it wasn’t the cat who got the cream, that could never have been him. 

“I did wonder,” he said before nuzzling into her neck, “Thank you for telling me,” he kissed her softly right on her pulse. 

She swallowed hard, “Is that okay?”

He pulled away so he could look at her, “Okay? Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

She shrugged, “I’m 25 and I’ve never been with a man, despite my age, I’m worried my inexperience will make me seem like a child to you and I want so badly to be a woman for you, for you to be proud of me.”

“Hermosa, will you just listen to yourself?” He spoke in earnest. “You are the most incredible woman, you are smart, witty, you have a head full of beautiful ideas and dreams and you’re not afraid of the world. You stand up for yourself, you are every part the woman you are describing that you want to be there, but you already are.”

“We don’t have to rush anything okay? You take your time, as long as it takes.”

She smiled back at him, “You mean it?”

“Of course.”

“Did you ever wonder?”

“Well…we’ve been together for some time now so I was starting to wonder but hey I would never want to rush you.” He paused for a moment, wondering whether to confess to her more of his past, he decided in light of her confession that she could be trusted. “I’ve only been in love once, she betrayed me, broke my heart. It was a long time ago now, but it’s still with me you know? So no matter how slow we take this, it’s good for me.”

It didn’t take them much longer to make the decision to join as one, Javier was patient and expected nothing from her. But Marie, now with her heart opened, wanted them to sleep together as soon as possible.

She wondered, years later as she watched her own children play in the large garden her and her husband tended so lovingly too. She wondered whether a part of her wanted Javier to take her virginity as soon as possible, because she was old fashioned. Because in her naive mind she believed that no matter what happened or what truth came to light afterwards, as he had taken her innocence he would stay with her. She’d hoped if she fell pregnant he would have to marry her and she could steal him away from the gang. 

It wasn’t Javier’s fault that it didn’t play out that way. Her father had lectured her on trust, most of what he taught her she wanted to forget, it was easy to disregard it and throw it away into the sands of time. 

She told him after dinner one night that she was ready, he nodded in reply and made plans for a night in a hotel, there was no way he was going to have her first time back at the camp with the others.

Not that they would mind, she’d met with the gang numerous times, joined in with some of their celebrations and singing. She got on with the girls, even Molly. Dutch found her amusing and she found herself able to listen to Hosea talk for hours about the old days. Some of the other gang members were a little more cautious of her and Dutch especially, despite enjoying her company, would constantly pester Javier into asking her to join the gang officially. It was safer that way. 

As she wasn’t officially a member of the gang, the others were always careful what to tell her, that included Javier. She knew little of their plans and schemes, of their past or their enemies. Javier told her just enough to keep her safe and stop her asking questions, but until she moved in with them, there would never be more to it. 

The first time they slept together the sex was slow, she’d been terrified of other’s first time stories, mostly wives tales she imagined. But it had been wonderful and intimate and there was barely any pain.

Javier kissed her neck, his hands running simultaneously through her hair, pulling just the right amount. Her body bended to meet his, her heart fluttered and cheeks flushed. She found herself grinding against him without realising what she was doing. She moaned his name in a way that sounded as if she were speaking in tongues.

Their hips rolled in unison, kisses so brief and fleeting that for a moment she struggled to tell if they were real.

She loved the taste of him, the way his tongue explored her mouth, the taste of cigarettes and whiskey. Hot breaths into her ear, the way when something didn’t quite go as planned, rather than getting angry or aggressive he would laugh and shrug it off. 

Yes, she loved the way he first took her, the care he took with kissing every part of her body, even the scars she considered to be so ugly that her father had left when she was younger. He worshipped her, removed each item of clothing slowly as if it was sacred. 

She watched him both in front of her and in the mirror, witnessed the care, the unrelenting kindness that flowed through him.

When her legs parted for him the first time there was a flash of hunger across his face but it soon melted away. His kisses were warm, needy. Her cheeks burnt brightly the first time he tasted her, but the shame disappeared when she allowed her body to enjoy it. 

He looked up at her, watching her reaction as he lapped at her core, his tongue working magic and the way he sheathed his fingers inside her slowly scissoring and preparing her for his large member. 

He made sure she came before they had sex, he wanted her to be washed with pleasure and glowing when he laid on top of her. As her body trembled and shook under him, he smiled, satisfied with a job well done. 

When he slid into her for the first time, it wasn’t how she had imagined it would be. She felt full, complete for the first time in her life, he stayed inside her for a minute without moving. She took the time to adjust to his size, to feel his weight on top of her pushing her down.

He covered her with kisses warm and inviting, and when he started to slide in and out of her, she was soon breathless, torn constantly between wanting to shut her eyes because it felt so good, and wanting them open to watch him at work. 

They barely spoke during sex, the room instead filling deliciously with their moans of pleasure and cries as they came. 

It was a month after they first slept together, and Marie was starting to feel like something was going to ruin the peace she had found herself in. Javier wanted to see more of her and now had started to pressure her into moving into the gang. 

By now she had learnt that her father had gotten to know Dutch van der Linde, what she didn’t know so something so horrific she was unable to prepare for it. 

There was a light coming from her father’s study, shadows inside of someone moving and then she heard it. The noise pierced through her heart, though not the sound of arguing or screaming. There was no struggle, it was the sound of a child’s laughter. 

There had been no children in her father’s mansion for a long time. Somehow she knew, she knew before she pushed open the door to reveal the horror within. The boy, though she had never seen a photo of him, she was certain, it had to be the van der Linde boy.

“Father…” she spoke softly as she entered the room.

There he was, Jack, happy as anything, playing with a toy train. 

“Ahhh Marie, let me introduce you to Jack, he’s going to live here for a short while, on a sort of…holiday. Isn’t that right Jack?”

Jack nodded and beamed up at Marie. When her father looked down at Jack, Marie used that opportunity to shake her head at Jack and placed a finger to her lips. Thankfully, Jack took the hint and said nothing to her father regarding how he knew her. 

When she didn’t respond her father appeared curious, “What’s wrong, you appear to have seen a ghost?”

She pulled a fake smile and shook her head, “Nothing papa, I ate too much at dinner and drank a little too much too,” he smiled at her, “You know how you always joke I take after you.”

Her father laughed and patted Jack on the back.

“Goodnight Jack, goodnight father,” she pressed a kiss to Bronte’s cheek and left instantly. 

In the safety of her room she locked her door and put her back to it, slowly sinking to the floor as sobs ripped through her. Oh no. It was ruined, it had to be, any day now then the perfect sequence of lies by her careful design would come falling apart from under her. 

She had to tell Javier, perhaps if she told him she could find a way to make things right, to return Jack and build a peace treaty between the two groups. Maybe. But the fear gripped her, she recalled how Javier had explained Dutch’s reactions of late, how unforgiving he had been. No, if she told him the truth there was a chance she would loose both her father and Javier after all. 

Though she knew if the gang got Jack back then… she had to pray they didn’t, what kind of monster did that make her?

So whilst staring at the moon wistfully and asking her guidance she made the decision, she wouldn’t say a word. She had been living the lies long enough to keep up with them, that was what she had to do. It was a life she had built for herself now, she had to commit. 

That night she barely slept, the weight of what she had learnt weighing heavy on her shoulders. Tears fell into her pillow as she wept silently, counting now the inevitable days until she lost him. 

Days, that was all it took for the dream to end. And when it ended, it was abruptly, violently, not with fireworks and wistful promises, but with regret.  

Marie’s father had sent Jack to the Braithwaite Manor, since then she hadn’t seen Javier. Marie was no fool, she knew why. Once the gang got him back, Jack would have undoubtedly have told Javier that he had seen her. Her stomach twisted in knots and she found she was unable to keep her food down. 

All she could do was wait for Dutch and the gang to storm her father’s mansion as they had the Braithwaite place.

She heard the commotion outside, she knew what was happening without looking, so she sat by the fireplace, whiskey in one hand, book in another. They were just props to make her appear calmer than she was on the inside. She knew this would be the end of her relationship and potentially the night of the death of her father. Again, she was no fool, but fool enough to believe there was a world where this could have worked. 

Numbness washed over her like the tide over dried out pebbles, as she heard the door crash open and the rain of gunfire begin. 

When Javier came into the room she was sat in, accompanied by John, her blood ran cold, there was nothing she could say to make it better. The tears that stained her one perfect cheeks, spoke a thousand words. 

Javier stared at Marie, wordless for a moment. Despite what Jack had told him and her sudden disappearance from his life, he hadn’t quite believed it, not until now. How could he have been so stupid? He always took care not to allow anyone too close to him until he really got to know them and yet he’d let her in, believed the lies she had fed him. They had been so convincing and it had felt so real. 

“Come on,” John urged Javier, emotionless with his words. 

Javier was still frozen, it was only when John pulled at his arm he snapped out of the moment, “We need to talk,” was all he said before leaving with John.

As the gunfire continued Marie sat and drank the whiskey slowly, she could have run away then, could have taken some of her father’s money and expensive belongings and started again. But she figured she at least owed Javier an explanation.

Some time passed before the door opened again, Javier was alone, “Merida,” he muttered under his breath as he entered, closing the door behind him. 

She swallowed any words that were forming in her mind, her palms felt sweaty as she carried them in front of her.

“Javier I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I….” she tried to hold back the sob, “I didn’t want you to see me like this, I wanted to be someone else.”

“You put yourself in danger, you put us in danger! What he did to Jack!” Javier wasn’t shouting, he didn’t have the energy for that, he was just broken, his words cutting and to the point.

Marie got up from the seat she was in and closed the gap between them, spinning Javier on the spot and pushing him back a little towards the armchair. Her lips pressed into his catching him off guard and how hard he found it to pull away.

His hands gripped her upper arms and he pushed her back, sighing as the kiss broke. 

 “If you want to walk away I understand,” she said.

Javier was at a loss for words, the way she was talking was as if she hadn’t really considered the implications of her actions. She was reducing it to them staying together and living happily ever after or him just walking away, he wasn’t even sure he detected any real remorse in her voice. 

When he didn’t respond she started to plead, “Take me with you.” She gripped his hands tightly like a snake’s jaws round it’s prey, unwilling or unable to unlock. 

Javier shook his head in disbelief and took a step back, though his hands still clasped hers, it was at a distance. He promised himself before they rode to the mansion that he wouldn’t cry in front of her, that he wouldn’t allow himself to be exposed. But hearing the crack in her voice, was making it difficult. 

“Dutch won’t allow this you know that.”

“But I…. I love you,” the words fell so readily from her lips. The first time she set eyes on him she hadn’t planned on falling in love, she’d just hoped for a little adventure, excitement, for a man to teach her the ways of the adult world.

Javier sighed pulling his hands from hers, her arms fell to her side, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now, I need space,” he walked past her, shoulder brushing shoulder.

“Javier please!” She begged.

How it stung him then, he’d been caught out by this before back in Mexico, had promised himself he would never fall hard again and yet here he was a partner to self-indulgence and narcissistic hopes, dancing the same dance that had him falling flat on his feet.

“Please don’t leave me!” She pulled at his sleeve, falling to her knees by his side. 

He turned, head over his shoulder looking down at her and tugged his sleeve away from her grip. He had tried to be nice, tried to express his need for time to process what had happened, but she wasn’t making it easy, “You lied to me!” His tone reeked of disbelief. 

“No…no I didn’t I.”

“You told me your father was dead, that he was a doctor.”

“His father was a doctor… my grandfather… and he is dead to me.”

Javier laughed, it wasn’t a kind laugh with any warmth, he beat his fists into a cushion and turned back to her, “You could have ruined everything.”

She stood up weeping, affronted at being told off so harshly, “Javi…”

Javier took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, he sighed and looked back at her, “I love you, don’t you get that? I love you and would do anything I can to protect you, but how can I protect you when you won’t tell me who you are? I cannot protect you if I don’t know you.”

She sniffed and walked over to him, tentatively she reached out for him and placed a hand on his lower arm, a moment then when she recalled one of their first dates, the way he had rolled up his white sleeves and exposed his muscular lower arms. It was the first time in her life that she felt what others described as ‘butterflies’. 

“Forgive me?”

He sighed, he had already decided on their fate before she even asked the question, already knew that no matter what he would forgive her. The question was, how could he stay with her knowing what he knew now?

His fingertips traced her cheek bone, “Marie,” he couldn’t get out the other words he wanted to say, finding it overwhelmingly too painful to cope.

His hands slid round her waist and pulled her in closer, just as they were about to kiss there was a crash as the door was kicked open. Dutch, John and Micah walked in.

“Bronte’s daughter!” The fury on Dutch’s face was like something neither of them had seen before.

Dutch’s tone brought Javier back down to reality, he would forgive her, yes. He would allow her to be free, to go and live a full life, but it would have to be apart. 

“Dutch, please don’t start.” Javier urged his friend and leader, standing in between the two of them. 

“Did you know?” Dutch’s face was red with fury.

“He didn’t, I swear!” Marie said. 

Micah gave a cruel laugh, “As if we’d believe anything you say.”

“I didn’t know Dutch, do you think had I of known, I wouldn’t have said something or broken it off?” His voice strained. 

Dutch remained silent.

“Aren’t I loyal to you?” As Javier spoke the words he felt torn, he loved Marie, but he loved the gang and Dutch more, they would always come first.

Dutch sighed, he had been in difficult situations when he was younger and wasn’t completely void of emotion, “You know this has to end now?”

Javier nodded, “Yes.”

“My dear, I was fond of you,” Dutch begun, “Such a shame you couldn’t have been honest with us, for that betrayal, there is no longer a place by our or Javier’s side. Now come say goodbye to your father.”

She gulped, Javier found himself grateful for Dutch’s reaction when it could have been so much worse. 

She watched from the edge of the water, knowing with certainty that it would be the last time she saw her father. She didn’t blame Dutch or the others, how could she? He had taken Jack from them, taken a boy and whilst he had treated him well, it was a matter of principle.

She’d hugged her father goodbye, kissed his cheek, for all his wrong-doings he was still her father. He looked scared, it was the only time she’d seen him look like that and it terrified her. The dead of night had never been something that scared her as a child, but it scared her now. To see the moon reflected in her father’s wide eyes. He looked lost, confused, old, a lifetime of wrong-doings had caught up with him. Ironic though she felt that it was a group of outlaws who would be his undoing rather than lawmen. Maybe it was better that way, maybe there was more honour in dying at the hands of others who also wished to be free. 

Marie watched the others climb into the boat after her father, she watched him sit, studied every movement of his. She watched as the boat head out into the thick of the swamp, under the great   Cypress trees. She counted the ripples to steady her nerves, they went on and on and so she didn’t think of anything else as she counted.

But in the end she had to consider what was happening, so she stood, motionless as the horror unfurled in front of her, though she couldn’t clearly see in the dark of night, she heard the noises, the screams, could see the shadows in the dark, the movement underneath the water. 

A few seconds of noise and then silence, like a void had opened up in the world and sucked in all the sounds, light and oxygen. She held her breath as the boat returned, hoping it had all been to scare her father and nothing more.

When they returned without her father, she had no doubt what had happened, that’s that then, she thought. No tears came then, just a gentle, throbbing pain in her temple and an emptiness in the pit of her stomach. Her father was the one person that no matter his wrongs, made her feel like her place in the world was justified. Whilst they argued frequently, he was always there for her and now she had no one. 

Dutch, John, Micah and Arthur walked past her without a word, she doubted she would ever speak to them again. 

Javier though stopped next to her, without turning to her said, “I am sorry about your father,” then he proceeded to walk back inside the house.

She gave him a few minutes before entering the house behind him, she closed the doors, locked them and drew the curtain. When she turned back she finally appreciated just how much blood there was and the mess that would need cleaning up. But none of that mattered, the bodies could stay there rotting for days for all she cared. 

Javier appeared from one of the other rooms, “The others have gone.”

She nodded and walked towards him, “I should have told you who I was, I know that, I know I shouldn’t have kept something so important from you, I can’t apologise enough.” As she spoke she was trembling, her hands clasped together by her chest, feeling her own heart beat.

“You know it’s not even the fact that you’re Bronte’s daughter, it’s the fact that you knew where Jack was!” 

“I didn’t know, not at first!”

“And how am I supposed to believe you, knowing what I know now?”

“I swear!” Her voice strained, clearly in pain.

Javier buried his head in his hands and tried to steady his breathing before he shouted at her again, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do or how he could make it through this. 

“I’m sorry,” her bottom lip quivered, eyes full of tears again as she started to sob. 

“So you’ve said, sorry you were caught more like; how did you see this ending? With us riding off into the sunset back to Mexico?”

And although he wanted to forgive her, to pretend it hadn’t happened, he didn’t have it in him.

“No, I don’t know!” She threw her arms up into the air in dismay as tears streamed down her face.

Javier knew he had to leave before he changed his mind, “They’re my family, they have to come first. But take this as a lesson, you’ve inherited your father’s estate, learn from what’s happened here. Go into the world and live your life, that’s all I can offer you.”

She didn’t argue now, but let the silence fall between them, the inevitable dark hollow that opened up. 

She allowed herself to indulge in that silence and self-pity for a moment, “He wasn’t a good man,” in that moment she seemed genuinely sorry for the loss of her father as opposed to what else was happening. 

Javier sighed and walked up to her then pulled her into his chest, he hated her for lying to him, hated her for the danger she put his family in. But he couldn’t bring himself to hate her completely. The issue was she had broken his trust and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to recover from that.

“My love, I am sorry, but right now I cannot do this,” he said, still holding her so that he wouldn’t have to see her reaction.

“What?” Her voice was so meek, so confused, so unbelieving, there was no future where she imagined he’d have given her up this easily, where he wouldn’t have forgiven her, not her Javier.

“I do love you but I love my family, I owe my life to Dutch and Hosea, if only you’d have told me the truth from the beginning we could have worked things out.”

She pulled away from him, tears streaming down her cheeks, she balled up her fists and started to punch him repeatedly in the chest. Javier took it, allowing her to let her anger out on him.

“I’m not going to say there’s never a future for us, but, for now I can’t deal with this.”

“So you’re just going to leave me alone, your esteemed leader whom you love more than me, murders my father in a brutal fashion and now you’re leaving me.” Disbelief was written across her face. 

Javier felt pained, for the first time since Mexico, he felt wrecked with guilt, but how could he bring her home with him, to their camp? To the gang’s safe haven? It seemed impossible to him.

He shook his head, “You think this is easy for me? You think I like this?”

She bit her lip and looked at the floor like a child who’s been told off in school, “I know I’ve done so much wrong and I’m not sure I can put it right,” she said, though this time there was more conviction in her voice. Her tears were subsiding as exhaustion washed over her. 

“I loved you Marie, what we had was great, but if you love me too you’ll understand why this cannot be.”

She looked up into his kind, dark eyes and felt sorry for him. As much as it hurt her, she knew he was right. 

Javier pulled her into a hug again and rubbed her back, “You’re gonna be okay Marie, you’re a smart girl, you’ve got all the money you need to move on and live an amazing life.”

When he pulled away he kissed her one last time, it was a soft gentle kiss that had all the notes of, ‘I love you’. She desperate for more tried to kiss him more passionately and sucked on his lower lip, but as she did this he pulled away before brushing his lips against hers once more. 

“Will I ever see you again?” She asked.

Javier inhaled sharply and then shrugged, “Maybe… not for a very long time but maybe if you can prove yourself to us. But understand, this is over, if and this is a big if, if ever there comes a time when you prove yourself to me, we will have to start again.”

She nodded, “I understand.”

Javier pulled himself away from her and turned around, he refused to look back incase he changed his mind. He had to be strong now, strong for Dutch and the others, had to return to his family who needed him.

Marie watched him leave, powerless to stop him, she was head of the household now, no more tears. In a way their relationship had done exactly what she wanted it too, when it started she wanted to date a handsome man with an exciting life. Wanted to date someone who would kiss her, take her virginity, teach her what it was like to be a woman. And Javier had done that and more, he had prepared her for a relentlessly cruel world and taught her how to survive. 

In the end, that was why she let him go. As the front door closed, she became acutely aware of how empty the house was, the structure that had been full of so much noise just one hour ago, had fallen as silent as a graveyard. Time to move on, she thought. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #135

“on a collision course to hell we march.”

When you make a mess are you more likely to clean it up right away, or do you get to it later?  Right away because otherwise it'd fuck with my OCD. Do you like to have croutons in your salad?  Ew no. Which do you find more irritating - sunburn or bug bites? Sunburn. What shape/type of fry do you like best [waffle fry, curly fry, steak fry, sweet potato fry, tater tot, etc.]?  Just.  The normal kind of fry. What’s your favorite type of bird?  Barn owls. How many friends do you have on Facebook? 110. How many contacts do you have in your phone?  15. What pet names do you use with your significant other? The usual sweetie, hunny, etc., but then there's "honeybee" and "bubblebutt." cB What’s the name of the store you usually get your groceries?  Wal-Mart. Do you carry any means of protection on you while out in public?  No, although I do wish I had pepper spray. Have you ever been inside of a cave?  No, I wish. Would you ever pick up a hitchhiker?  No. Did your parents ever show you pictures of you when you were a baby inside your mother’s tummy?  I know some exist and Mom was probably pregnant in pictures I've seen in old photo books, but I don't remember any in specific. When you were in school/if you are in school, do you actually share your grades with your parents? If you got/get a bad grade, do you hide it from them?  I always shared them regardless. Have you ever learned to play a song on an instrument just by listening to it and not looking at sheet music? No. Is anything hanging from the doorknob in your room?  My purse. Your first love walks up to your door, what do you do/say?  Considering he has no way of knowing where I live, probably, "And I thought I was the obsessive one" before closing the door. Do you honestly think you could last a week without a computer or cell phone?  Oh yeesh no. Do you know anyone who does cocaine?  No.  At least I hope not. What is something that most people wouldn’t know about you from simply looking at you?  Given my current weight, that I'm a vegetarian. What’s your longest road trip?  Like... 11-12 hours? Do you have any videos on your phone? If so, of what?  I have one video saved of Sara playing with Jem.  It's the cutest thing ever. Do you think that your bedroom is a reflection of your personality? Or would people look at your room and misjudge you?  It's a good reflection. Do you follow the ‘five second rule’ when you drop food on the ground?  No.  Food falls, not touching it. Does it bother you when people make weight comments? This depends.  Your doctor?  Without being condescending or anything, of course they should.  Otherwise, unless you are asked by this person to give your genuine opinion, keep your mouth shut. What’s a quality that your sister has that you absolutely can’t stand? I won't say which sister, but she's not appreciative enough of what she's given. Have you ever been caught right in the middle of a rain storm outside?  Yep.  In the summer afternoons especially, it can start pouring down within like five minutes of clouds forming. When was the last time you visited the park? Who did you go with?  February to take anniversary pics for Ash and Nick.  Mom and my niece and nephew were there, too. Do you live in a town where basically everyone knows everyone else?  No, we don't really live in a "town" area. Are your grandparents the kind who are very protective of you?  No. Which singer’s vocals would you love to steal?  I've only heard "Skin and Bones" by her band, but probably Layla Brooklyn Allman.  Fucking gorgeous voice but also has one badass roar. Have you got a hairdresser that you can trust?  Yeah, I've seen the same woman since like middle school. Do you like the smell of BBQs?  Yes, even though I hate barbeque. Who would you really like to become better friends with?  There's a lot of people.  But of anyone, probably Priscilla. Do you personally know anybody who has more than five tattoos?  Yeah. How big is your bed?  Queen. Have you ever been to a bachelor or bachelorette party?  No. Do you think it’s important for children to have a father figure in their life as they grow up?  ...it’s more important the child grows up feeling loved and valued than exactly who is doing the raising. <<<<< This. Do you include your middle initial in your signature? No. Have you ever imagined how it would feel kissing a certain someone?  Yes. /v\ Have you ever taken a picture with Santa when you were little?  Yes. What is the population of the city you live in? Around 5,300 lmao.  We're tiny. If you could have one more pet, what?  If I didn't have a rat the answer would be a cat, but since I do, another ball python. Something you want to buy real bad?  Gimme another plane ticket and the money for the tat I want. Something you would NEVER buy?  Drugs. What do you think will happen when you die?  Hopefully I'll see a peaceful, beautiful afterlife where I'm with all I love who've passed. Could you wait until marriage for sex?  I tried to.  Now I kinda just shrug at the idea of being abstinent.  I mean if you're in love with the person, stable in your HEALTHY relationship, and use protection, go for it. What was on the last sandwich you ate?  A pb&j forever ago.  Aaaand now I want one, but fasting hours have started. What pet names do you use with your significant other? Oh god I call her a lot.  "Pretty woman," "honeybee," "love(ly)," "sweetie, "hunny," "baby/babe," aaaand "bubblebutt" will always be The Supreme. What brand is your toaster, if you have one? We have an OOOOOLLLDDD-ass toaster oven, idk what it is. Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you?  For less than a day, and now, no. How would you describe your sense of humor?  Sarcastic, I guess. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings?  Yeah, Nicole. Do you currently have any bruises on your body? Yeah, my knees are pretty bruised from getting down daily to exercise. Can you cry on command? If so, have you ever used it to your advantage?  No. Have you ever seen a lunar eclipse?  Ye, multiple times. A solar one?  No. Do you know anyone who writes huge essays when they message you?  Lmao Sara and I can both do that sometimes. Do you think your first love still loves you?  Nope. Are you a money saver or spender?  Quickly learning I'm a saver.  It's so, so rare I obtain money so I save that shit for something I really want. Do you know anyone who has been arrested?  Yes. Are you someone who has to analyze everything?  More like over-analyze. What's the last thing that scared the hell out of you? Hm... that REALLY scared me that bad, probably when Sara was having a strange health issue. Who is the last person you pushed out of your life? Why?  My old best friend because she's honestly a toxic piece of trash towards others. Do you have any awkward music downloaded on your iPod?  Lol yes.  People would raise eyebrows. Have you ever been to church? What was it like?  I grew up going to church and did sometimes with the family as a teen, and I always thought it was boring. Has a member of the opposite sex ever seen you naked? Yeah. Do you use an umbrella when it rains? No, unless one's available and it's pouring. What articles of clothing have you been wanting to buy/did you buy recently?  Homie I've wanted a leather studded jacket since middle school. Were you ever a flower girl or ring bearer in anyone’s wedding when you were little?  No. Are you afraid of speaking to large audiences?  YEAH. If you could either be fire resistant or breathe underwater, which would you rather be capable of? Breathe underwater. Have you ever bought fake money and tried to make it pass for real? No. Have you ever had to sell something for a school fundraiser? Ugh yes. If you have any piercings, who did them?  Different people, but all professionals. Have you ever cried while watching a movie trailer?  No. Do you know someone who had completely changed for the worse when he/she started hanging out with another person? If so, who?  Yeah, his name's Jason. Have you ever been pulled over, but just let off with a warning?  No. Have you ever taken shots? (of alcohol)  No. Have you ever had to evacuate somewhere do to a fire/flood/some sort of threat to safety? If so, what happened?  No. Do you like mash-up songs?  I don't listen to them enough to know. Have you ever played a real pinball machine?  Pretty sure yes. What is the saddest thing that has happened to you? Attempting suicide. What about the happiest?  Realizing my ex no longer had any power over me. What do you consider to be a bad grade? Low C. Who was the last person you slow danced with?  Jason. Do you say "like" a lot? No.  My younger sister can say it in almost every sentence and it drives me insane. Would you ever consider adopting a child with a severe mental illness?  I wouldn't be able to.  As someone who knows the pain of them, I just couldn't handle it. Do you ever go into photobooths?  I have before. Have you ever pole danced before?  No. Have you ever seen a live bat?  Yes. Has a pet ever stolen food from you as you were eating it?  No. Are you more comfortable kissing a boy or a girl? I haven't kissed a girl on the lips yet, but I can almost guarantee I'd be more comfortable kissing one than a boy. Are you waiting for something? Come.  On.  June.  12th. Have you ever kissed someone and hated it?  He kissed me and I hated it. Can you touch your nose with your tongue? No. Who in your family is the hardest to please? Nicole, probably. Would you ever pierce your “private” areas?  NONONONONONONONO WHY DO PEOPLE- What type of humor do you find funniest?  Dry or clever. What types of things fascinate you? BOY.  Nature, CAVES, space, oceans, certain animals... lots. Are you ever rude to people on purpose?  Depends on my mood/the subject...  If you're being a piece of shit to me, I may be unpleasant back.  Or I kill with kindness. What kind of place would you want to raise your children?  I already want to live in the woods, but if I had children, it'd be even more important to me to live with an abundance of nature.  I'd want to raise them to enjoy it and ESPECIALLY respect it.  I'd also want to teach them to have fun with other than just technology, and giving them a big chunk of the outdoors would help. Will you hold hands with the last person you held hands with again?  YEAH. Has your father met the boy you currently love?  *girl.  Not yet, but hopefully will next month. Why did you last cry?  I was extremely lonely and sick of how dull and repetitious my days are. Do you eat raisin bran?  Omg I hate raisins. Would you rather spend a whole day with your mom or your dad?  Either one. What serial killer do you find most disturbing?  I'm not very educated on serial killers.  Isn't there one who wore other people's faces?  That'd be high on the list. Have you ever written or received a suicide note?  Ugh.  I wrote one. Do you have the same color hair as your siblings?  Yes.  I think we ALL have brown hair. Do you have the same color eyes as your siblings?  My only siblings who has blue eyes is Bobby. What is your favorite type of cat?  Persians. What’s your opinion on tattoos in the workforce? How about piercings?  Get the fuck over it.  They have no impact on the person's personality and work ethic.  It's WAY past time we drop that shit. Do women breastfeeding in public make you feel uncomfortable? Why or why not?  *SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE* IF A CHILD IS HUNGRY FUCKING FEED THEM LIKE GODDAMN HAVE WE FORGOTTEN WHAT BREASTS ARE FOR. How many times is your cartilage pierced in your ears?  It was done once, but it closed when I had to take it out at the hospital.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Wish Breakers Part 3

Sorry Guys, I’m on a roll with this for right now. Hopefully the inspiration lasts for one or two more parts, which should be enough to finish the story. 

Part 1

Part 2

After a few hours of traveling underground, we reached a large metal ladder, which led us onto a dirty alley. Facing us was a flickering neon sign over a metal door, which read “Goblin Inn.”

It was 3:09 PM.

“You weren’t joking, this is a real place?” I half expected my mother or Eric to break down laughing, and tell me this was a joke. All I got was a serious glance between them and her terse instructions: 

“Stay close, this could get ugly.” We entered the building. 

Immediately I was hit with a wall of noise: shrieks, shouts and growls echoed constantly through the large barroom, making me want to cover my ears. Everywhere I looked something was happening. Two large men traded punches in the corner, while everyone else ignored them. A group of pointy-eared people were playing poker. A smaller woman obviously didn’t like the hand she was dealt, as she set fire to the table in protest. A waiter, thin and long limbed, floated over and put the fire out with his water pitcher and they resumed their game. A couple danced in the corner, their blue-tinged skin radiating a faint light. Everyone seemed to be thinly disguised as human, similarly to Eric, but just not doing a very good job. As our arrival was noticed a silence fell over the bar.

“Well, if it isn’t the supreme Wish Breaker, herself!” One of the large, hairy men paused his assault of his neighbor and stalked towards us with a nasty grin. “I thought I smelled the stench of failure.” He stopped within inches of my mother, laughing. He reeked of alcohol and sweat. “How does it feel, huh? You always thought you were better than the rest of us, controlling the flow of magic in this world. But now,” he stuck a long finger in her face, “You’re nothing. Just food for the Fallen.”

He laughed again, his split lip from his earlier fight breaking open and dribbling blood on his chin. My mother smiled, the expression not reaching her eyes. Eric and I both recognized it and backed away a few steps, but the man didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Back away, before I make you.” Her voice was calm, which was even scarier.

He stepped closer, almost touching her. “You’re not in charge anymore.” He looked over and saw me. “And who’s this? Fresh meat? I…oomph.” He cut off abruptly as my mother’s fist connected with his face, sending him flying into the poker table. Several of the patrons screeched angrily, while I noticed the woman gathering up the scattered money on the floor and running for the door.

My mother was still smiling. “I warned you, Grot. It may be the end times, but I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Grot seemed stunned for a moment, and then brought his hand up to the large red mark on his face where she had struck him. His eyes narrowed. “You Bit…”

I didn’t see her move, but she was standing in front of him, a cocked pistol resting between his eyes. He swallowed his words and stood very still. The whole room followed suit, watching the fight unfold with morbid curiosity.

Then Eric stepped forward, breaking the tension. “Alright, Mara, let’s hold off on killing him just yet. He might be an idiot, but it tends to bring bad luck if you shoot someone before you have lunch. “ He led her towards the the stairs, “Why don’t you two head up and get settled in. I’ll get some food and be right behind you.”

He turned towards the bar, where a small, angry looking man wiped the counter. “You do still hold the Wish-Breaker room, right?”

The man nodded angrily. ”Third door on the left. You’re going to have to pay for that poker table.”

We headed up the stairs, leaving Eric to argue “extenuating circumstances” with the owner. The third door on the left looked slightly different than the others, I noticed that it had a silver handle. My mother grasped it gently and with a half turn, the door opened. We entered, sneezing a bit at the layer of dust that covered everything.

“Geez Mom, how long do you think it’s been since someone stayed here?”

Her answer was thoughtful “Twenty years and four months.” She was looking around the room, but I had a feeling she was seeing her past. I grabbed her arm, pulling her to the cleanest looking couch and sat down next to her.

“Look. We need to talk some stuff through.” She nodded but otherwise stayed silent, waiting for my question. I took a deep breath.

“Is Eric my father?”

“WHAT? No!” My mother looked shocked, as far as I could tell it was an honest reaction.

“Honey, I know your father died when you were five, but you still remember him, right?”

I shook my head. “I remember him, but that just means he lived with us and you told me he was my father. I never doubted that before, but since here we are, delving deep into this secret other life you’ve lead, your old flame showing up to join us… I just wondered…” I trailed off, embarrassed.

“No, I understand this has to be incredibly overwhelming for you.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I never wanted any of this for you. I just hoped I could keep you to the surface parts and protect you from the rest. Now I regret it.” Taking my hand she continued, looking sadly around the room. “I know you felt trapped by my expectations, believe me, I’ve been there. When I was your age there were still plenty of Wish Breaker family members around, judging me, reminding me of my duty.  I wanted a better life for you, but I suppose I ended up being just like them.”

I squeezed her hand. “Do you love Eric?”

“I did once.” She didn’t meet my eyes. “Now it’s more memories than anything else.”

I had to ask. “If you loved him why did you marry my father?” This was met with a bitter laugh.

“Expectations. Duty. Our family has been around a long time. I was expected to continue on the line. Eric was wonderful, but he’s Fairy kind and they can’t have children. Needed a human husband for that.”

“I’m sorry.” I looked down at my feet, scuffing a shoe against the dusty carpet.

“Don’t be.” She grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze to meet hers. I saw sadness there, expected it, but no regret lingered in her eyes. “I love you. And although David wasn’t my first choice in life, I loved him too. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

I gave her a hug. “I love you too.”

After a few long moments, she pushed me towards the side room where there was a bed. “Take a nap if you can, kid. We’ll have a busy night ahead.”

I snuggled under the surprisingly warm blankets, feeling tired but not quite ready to sleep. I was drifting off somewhat when I heard Eric enter the center room. I had left the door cracked just enough that I could see movement, and hear fairly well.

“Light?” His voice seemed older, more tired than it had when we first met.

“Taking a nap.”

“Good. That’s a good kid you’ve got there, deserves better than this mess.”

“Eighteen years old is hardly a kid.”

“I guess you’re right.” He laughed. “You were eighteen when we last saw each other, in this very room. Just finished putting down the rebellion of the Fallen. Seemed like such a big deal at the time. Of course, nothing compared to the storm brewing now.”

My mother sighed loudly; I head her get up and pace the room. “No kidding. This will make that battle seem like a schoolyard fight. “

“I was so cocky then. Led my first successful battle. Told a beautiful girl I loved her.” He hesitated. “Then it all came crashing down.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Why did you stay Eric? I told you the truth that day. We could never be together.”

“I know that now. Back then I was young and stupid enough to think I knew your heart better than you. Ah well, I’ve grown older and wiser. …Mostly just older.”

She laughed. “Well the years have been kind to you.”

“Not as kind as to you. You’ve barely aged at all?” I could hear the wonder in his voice. “I know there’s some Fae magic in your family, so you would age slower, but I thought with the price of the Wish Breaking it evened out.”

“Ah yes, the damned price of the Well. A year of my life for every year we hold the magic of the world away from others.” Her laugh was more bitter this time. “You know without it we would live almost twice as long as normal humans? Seemed a fair trade. We keep the world safe; in return we are reduced, year-by-year to a slightly less than normal lifespan. I shouldn’t look this good, Eric. I’m only here because Light wished me to be healthy.”

He sounded shocked. “What do you mean? How close to death were you?”

“A year or two away, not much more.”  

I gasped quietly, slapping a hand across my mouth to muffle the sound.

What did she mean? I knew she was sick, but…  I softly crept from the bed, sitting by the cracked door so I could hear more clearly. I lose a year of my life every year that I continue to do the Wish? I felt sick, a dull anger churning in my gut. How could she not tell me! I’ve lost two years of my life already!  

Eric seemed upset as well. “That doesn’t make sense! You should just be aged to a normal mortal woman in her early 40s, not at death’s door.”

There was a long pause. I leaned closer, desperate to hear her answer. “People think it’s such a simple thing, wishes.” Her voice was soft, sad. “It’s really much more complicated. My family has been striking deals with the magic of this world, feeding it our life force to protect every one else. I simply���struck a different deal. “

“What do you mean?” I silently echoed his question.

“I didn’t want… I couldn’t let my child face the same price. To be eaten away slowly by the well, by our family, until there’s nothing left.”

“Mara, what did you do?”

“I doubled the deal. Two years for every year of wishes. In exchange my child was guaranteed exclusion from the cost.”

I wanted to jump out, to call her out on such a stupid deal. Why would she throw her life away? She could have asked me, at least, for my thoughts on it! I was lifting my hand to open the door, when I was stopped by Eric’s question.

“You know what that means, right? If we succeed in this, and undo all the wishes done this morning, then you…”

“I’ll be returned back to the state I was in, plus the strain of all the activity from the full twelve hours since I was made healthy.”

“You’ll die.” His voice was flat, as if he could barely force the words out.

“Yes.” She was calm, accepting.

 I sat there, huddled against the wall in a strange inn, and despite all that had happened, having just learned about magic, wishes and the end of the world; all I could think about was my losing my mother. I dropped my head into my hands, tears seeping through my fingers.

“Light, it’s time to go.” Eric shook me awake, startling me.

“What?” I had fallen asleep on the floor, curled up in the corner of the room. At some point someone must have thrown a blanket on me. I pushed it off and stood, looking around, confused. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Just an hour.” He packed a small bag full of supplies, stopping a moment to toss me an apple. “Here, eat something. I’ve got more if you need it. Now let’s go, your mother is downstairs. We have to leave now.”

I took a bite of the apple, the crisp juice soothing the soreness of my throat. “Where are we going?”

He had been walking out the door, but at my question he turned, grinning.

“We’re going to go get an army.”

It was 4:32PM. 

[ryntaia]

can you write more shuake in which goro self-loathes due to what he did to akira and the phantom thieves and also because he believes he doesn't deserve akira's affection at all? but of course akira always proves him wrong :3 thank you, i love your writing!

Well guys, the feels train never stops on this ride to Shuake Land -- its time for me to try and make you guys hurt again! 

Okay so this one KINNNNDA may have gone from ‘drabble’ to actual fic since it clocked out at a little under 3k letters, so I’m sorry to anyone looking for a drabble or to anyone who feels cheated because I overwrote this one. I’m bad at this drabble request thing, hahaha. But I mean, like, guys, we gotta keep the Shuake Feels Train going. 

So WITHOUT FURTHER ADO....

           He had survived.

           It had taken all he had to drag himself out of that decadent wasteland of a ship with a bullet lodged in his shoulder, but Goro Akechi had survived. Granted he wasn’t sure what happened from there—being in reality with a bullet in your shoulder and no power from a Persona to keep you standing upwards had been an immediate blow once he found himself outside the Diet Building. All he could do was swear at himself as his knees buckled under him, gasps of distress and confusion coming from around him as his face went to meet with pavement.

           In the blur of pain and half-consciousness, he could’ve sworn he saw black hair and a Shujin uniform watching him as he fell. He could’ve sworn he saw thick glasses staring mercilessly at him as he lay in his own blood with a crowd of people clamoring around him and frantically dialing for the police. It almost made him smile as he faded out. The idea of Akira being there was somewhat soothing.

           But it was a bitter salve.

           He realized this quickly as he woke up in a hospital bed to find he had been a four month long coma. Doctors clamored wildly at the sheer fact that Akechi had woken up – he could catch enthused offhanded statements about how they hadn’t been able to single out the cause of the coma despite fixing his wound, that they hadn’t been sure if he would wake up, that they had done a great job despite having done nothing but pull the bullet out of his shoulder and lay him in a bed for days on end.

His hand ghosted across the stitches marring his pale flesh. It was a loud and noticeable wound and he could halfway hear the doctor telling him that it was guaranteed to scar. The man’s words were laden with unasked questions of how the teen had gotten a bullet wound in the first place, and the looming presence of the matter of paying for month upon month of hospital care for his coma. As if Akechi had even asked for these people to try and save him. As if he wanted to be here.

           As if he hadn’t just wanted them to leave him to bleed out in the road, or at least die before he got to the hospital. There was no poetic justice in this, he thought, nothing he had sacrificed to make up for the horrible things he had done. And now all he could do was live with those things for the rest of his life. He could just distantly watch the development of the past few months on a small TV provided to him.

           Apparently they had been eventful.

           Shido had collapsed, resigned, and went into hiding after performing a public apology—Akechi’s own name was mentioned once or twice but at this point he didn’t really care anymore. It had been publically known that it was the work of the Phantom Thieves, shown by reel after reel of footage of a country-wide television hijacking they had used for the calling card. He had to admire the method; the Thieves hadn’t shared it with him and in the back of his mind he was always wondering how they would get a calling card to someone who could so easily squash it. Apparently, probably with the help of the young hacker girl, they had managed it so that Shido could not possibly escape from his time of judgment.

           They had made the public remember. And Akechi sat here, forgotten. For once he appreciated it—everything he had ever believed, that innate nagging feeling that he wasn’t worth the affection of the adoring masses, had been confirmed. Their eyes had been opened and in a way his had too. But while their reaction was rightful indignation and fear to that which could destroy them, Akechi could only feel an empty acceptance towards his wheel spinning in the mud as he faded back into nothing in the minds of others. In the minds of the Phantom Thieves.

           In the mind of Kurusu.

           A sudden, sharp pain gripped Akechi’s heart, the first real feeling he had encountered since waking up from his coma. Akira Kurusu, the Joker, the leader, the teenager who had risen from his ashes like a phoenix to guide his group towards truth. Like the last flickering street light at midnight, with all the people he met like the moths innately drawn to that flickering light covered with soot but never dying out. Akechi had lost against that flickering light; everything he had believed had been burnt out by Akira’s resolve and genuine empathy.

           And once it had all burnt away from him, Akechi could only be left with the one truth he still held: his genuine affection towards the leader of the Phantom Thieves. That buried and suppressed understanding that everything Akira had displayed to him was real. The reality that the other teen had cared furiously about him, and after all the trust he had placed in Akechi’s words, the brunette had still turned around to shoot him in the back. And even then, after all of that, Akira still held his hand out earnestly to the disgraced detective, compelling him to come back to the Thieves.

           Akechi lurched forward at the thought, grabbing the emesis basis at his side as he dry heaved. Tears prickled at his eyes, running into the watery vomit, all bleeding together. Akira Kurusu and his affection. The boy had so much affection, so much caring, so much LOVE in his heart for someone who the world had functionally turned around and kicked out of their respects. There was a genuine feeling to every bit of affection that Akira gave to every single person, and it was hard to avoid the care that he had in his slate gray eyes as he listened to the concerns and opinions of each person around him. He was never gone away from them, spiting them in the back; he was always there for them, loving them. Loving him.

           Akechi coughed on the last bit of spit filled vomit, laying back in frustration. The affection he held for Akira Kurusu wasn’t something he could deny anymore, and in a way he couldn’t help but feel that it was so much better he realized it now instead of earlier. If he had realized it earlier, he contemplated, then he might have acted on it and won the favors and purest affections of someone who deserved so much better than to have to deal with him. It was better this way because Kurusu would never have to deal with the feelings of someone as corrupt as him. He could find affections in someone who was good enough for him.

           Or someone who hasn’t functionally killed him. Akechi laughed bitterly to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by knuckles rapping lightly on the door; his hair spun lightly when he looked up cautiously. Brown eyes widened as he recognized the woman at the door—blonde hair so light it almost seemed white, dark and sharp eyes, pursed red lips, and eyebrows forever furled into an expression of irritation or anger. The immaculately groomed, impeccably stubborn Sae Niijima.

           “Akechi.” She said, tone clipped.

           “….Ms. Niijima.” He replied, not able to bring himself to use his first name. He could see her eyebrow quirk at this but she didn’t point it out. She only closed her eyes in frustration. The prosecutor had come by several times since Akechi had awakened but her quick temper hadn’t faired well against his half hearted current nature. Half the time she left agitated, while the other half she left flat out irritated. He didn’t care. Sae Niijima was just another person who had gotten dragged into his selfishness and he didn’t want to see any of those people anymore. The more she went away the better.

           “…You stubborn child.” She muttered under her breath. He didn’t pay her any mind, just looking back down to the emesis pan. “I shouldn’t be doing any of this, but…you have been granted a special visitor. I granted you a special visitor, specifically.”

           Akechi looked up at this; the hospital had been very keen on keeping Akechi in isolation at the hospital after the news had apparently gotten out that he was Shido’s son. The combination of enraged members of the public alongside his old and devoted fans would’ve been enough to drive a man to suicide, or at least that was the hospital’s theory. So they closed visiting to everyone besides government officials and family. It basically meant only Sae Niijima had been willing and able to come visit. For someone to be allowed in, they would’ve had to come through her.

           And as the guest walked in, Akechi knew exactly why the prosecutor had done it.

           “I’ll leave you to talk.” Sae said, her tone almost hesitant and she strode past Kurusu into the hallway. The clack of her heels disappeared into the fray of the hospital. Akechi had zoned them out already anyways, his ears filled with a deafening silence as Akira closed the door behind him. Even the old news tapes playing on the old television were completely out of his perception—it wasn’t until Akira clicked the set off with the remote at Akechi’s side that the brunette realized it had even still been on.

           Silence reigned over the pair for a moment. Akira sat in a wooden chair across from the detective, legs splayed out and elbows balanced on his knees. His hands clasped together in front of his mouth as he studied every feature of Akechi’s shocked face—as if he was seeing something important, but was afraid he wouldn’t be able to ever see it again. The detective had no answers to break the stare they shared, only the returning feeling of hot bile in his throat.

           “Goro.”

           He blinked rapidly, his name bringing him back to attention. “A-Akira?”

           “Yes.”

           “What are you…”

           “I’ve been working against this hospital for a few weeks now to get in for a visiting session.” Akira replied easily, as if he read the other’s mind. Because of course he had. Akechi flushed a slight pink and directed his eyes away from the teen and his stupid messy hair, stupid askew glasses, stupidly knowledgable and calculating and kind gray eyes. “Goro, don’t do this.”

           “Don’t do what?” Akechi replied through grit teeth. What was this boy here to do? To rub it in? He hadn’t taken Akira as that sort of person. The back of his mind reminded him, almost childishly, that he had been offered to join the Phantom Thieves again when he had betrayed them—but it had all been fanciful talk. They hadn’t ever meant any of it.

           You’re so much of a liar that you can’t even admit the truth to yourself. His mind taunted him. You know that Joker meant exactly what he said and does exactly what he intends. Sae is right….you stubborn child.

           “Sae explained to me. What’s been going on, I mean. We all knew you woke up…it was all over the news. But…” Akira paused, as if considering his options. “…she told Makoto and myself recently about her visits with you. That you’ve been rejecting anything she has to say. That you’ve been progressing into a further depression the longer you stay here.”

           “Oh, is that what she told you and your little girlfriend?” Akechi snapped nastily; Akira’s eyebrows rose a bit and immediately a pang of guilt hit the detective’s stomach. That had not been the right thing to say…and it had told Akira too much. Well, if he knew a little, he might as well get the full brunt. “Get out. Go back to your little group. I don’t need—”

           “Is that what you think?” Akira immediately interrupted him. Akechi fumed; he could tell his face was growing redder and redder but he couldn’t help it. It was so many months worth of frustration finally unleashing itself somewhere. “Goro. I know I can’t make you want to feel needed by us…by me. But if it means anything, then I can tell you what is actually real.”

           “…And what’s actually real, Joker?” Akechi said, admonishing himself for how soft and inquiring his voice came out. Like a child being told a fairytale asking if the prince saved the princess.

           “You don’t have to feel needed by me. But I need you.” Akira’s tone was so genuine, so sharp, so brutally honest that it took the detective back. “You’re angry right now and I get that, but Goro…when Sae came back to Makoto saying that you had been found, I was overjoyed. You don’t have to believe me but I was. And I felt like all that joy was gone when I realized that you were still gone, that you had slipped out of our grasp and into a coma. I hated it. So I spent those long months thinking and thinking to myself.”

           “A….about?”

           “Why. And when you woke up, I figured it out.” Akechi knew what was coming; he hated it. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t DESERVE it. He wanted to clasp his hands over his ears and scream so he didn’t have to hear it. “Goro, I—”

           “STOP. Just stop, for Christ’s sake, Akira, stop.” Goro slammed his hands against his lap, bowing forward towards the fists in front of him. He couldn’t bring himself to look the black haired youth in the face. “I know what you’re trying to say but you CAN’T. You just can’t. I won’t…I DON’T….I killed you, I tried to kill you again, I tried to kill all your friends. You CAN’T.”

           “But I do.” Akira was quick to pick up the new train of thought. His voice had lowered to a tone unfamiliar to the detective, a soft and reassuring tone.

           “No. Don’t. If I say please like those kids you hang out with, will you not? Will you NOT give all that affection to someone who doesn’t…who doesn’t…” Akechi coughed a bit, unable to force himself to say what he meant, hands itching for the emesis pan so he could let out all the nausea building in his stomach. Looking at the spit covered vomit would be better than having to deal with—

           “Don’t act like you don’t deserve affection.”

           Akechi stopped, finally looking up to the teen with incredulous eyes; he was met with the most sincere expression he had ever seen. No smile, no frown, no anger, just a flat expression that screamed Akira’s sincere honesty. The brunette sat up and bunched into the corner like a wounded animal trying to escape a fox—except really, he realized, Akira was no such predator. His affections were genuine, as genuine as his own, despite everything he had done…

           A hand weaved through his chestnut brown hair. “You deserve it just as much as other people. I’ll be the one to decide how much I can take from the people I love. If people don’t like it then I don’t care. If you need to shoot me five or six more times to make it better than I don’t care. I’ll survive every bullet and come right back for more. Because I’m not going to let you chew off your own leg to get away from the fact that people can love and care you.”

           “Why…” Akechi choked out, hands balling up in the thin fabric of the hospital blanket. “Why? Why are you…why?”

           “Because I care about you. Because I LOVE you.” Akira said matter-a-factly. And there it was, he had finally said it, finally it hung in the air like an unopened letter. “You don’t have to love me back, Goro. I’m not asking for that. I just want to help you. I just want to be there for you.”

           Be there for him. No one had ever BEEN THERE for Goro Akechi. He had always been there for others, to be used, to be a tool in everyone’s game, to be the thorn in their side by the simple merit of existence. No one had ever wanted him there just by the merit of that he was HIM. The shock took a moment to pass through his system as he processed everything that the other boy was saying, barely listening as Akira rattled on about how Akechi didn’t even have to remember that he had said anything about loving him and—

           “I don’t want to forget.” Akechi murmured, hands playing across each other. Akira looked at him questioningly; the detective couldn’t find the strength to look at Akira with his red face and hopeful eyes. “I don’t want to forget you…said that. I want to…say it too. Because I do, too. But, I…”

           The hand in his hair carded downwards to the detective’s shoulder to squeeze it reassuringly. Akechi looked up carefully to the slight smile on the other boy’s face, the surprising pink tint peppering underneath the thick rims of his glasses.

“You can say whatever you want when you find the words. I’m just glad.”

I’m glad I can be here for you, and that you’ll let me.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #63

“now it’s you-know-who, i got the you-know-what, stick it you-know-where, you know why, you don’t care.”

tell me about the last thing that made you laugh until it hurt. chelsea showed me a stupid video that had me crying on new year's. i normally wouldn't have laughed so hard, but i was almost drunk. is there a trampoline in your backyard? no. we got rid of ours years ago. what about kids on leashes? what do you think about that? i don't feel much about it, because i've never raised a child. it's funny to see, no doubt, but idk if it's right or wrong. kids can be dangerously ignorant. for whatever reason, your significant other can NEVER have sex again. do you stay with them? duh. i can live without it. how would you react to losing a close friend? same shit, different day. have you ever drunk/eaten a substance in the science lab? no, because i didn't want to die back when i was in school. have you ever led the prayer at dinnertime? if not, do you want to? i have. do you like those sudoku puzzles? 
 i sure do. have you ever taken a course in chemistry? 
 no, i took physical science, which had chemistry mixed into it. do you like to draw?  not nearly as much as i used to... so, tell me about your day. was it good? 
 same old day. woke up, ate breakfast and such, watched my daily gmm. started taking surveys while i listened to music and let's plays in the background. seriously, it's the same every other day. do you have your own web site? 
 well i mean i created the rp forum my friends and i moved to, but it's not "mine." do you frequently add people to your friend’s list that you don’t know? no, never. how do you feel about girls that post half naked pictures on facebook? cover it up, hunny. not everyone needs to know you like that. sorry to be all "conservative," but i hate that shit. what’s your favorite ice cream flavor? vanilla, but with chocolate icing. have you ever considered changing your sexuality? no, i have not. i don't believe you can just "change" your sexuality like that. ever thought about changing your gender? here come the liberals. i don't believe it's possible to change your gender. what is the worst physical pain you have ever felt? getting my former cyst emptied at the er. fuck that. who is the most inappropriate person you know? mmmm... chelsea, probably. has someone ever told you they loved you and you didn’t say it back? yeah. are you satisfied with what you currently have in life? no. like look... i am happy i have a house. i have both parents. we have food. but what i have, both good and bad, is not enough for me to see a happy life possible. how long has it been since you kissed someone? over a year ago. your best friend has sex with your ex. what happens? i'm killing her. your ex wants you back, but you are in a relationship. what do you do? ... fucking kill me. i'd leave my current boyfriend to be with him. what did you do last night? wallowed in self-pity, convinced myself to not kill myself. if someone was to ask you if you were okay right now, are you? no. mom's taking my letter to jason to the mail tomorrow. i feel it in my gut that it's not going to change his feelings for me. do you think you would lose some friends if you gained 100 pounds? honestly, no. i feel that the friends i have now are more serious than that. when was the last time someone gave you a massage? i'm sure it hasn't been since jason and i dated and he'd give me one. when was the last time you were in an amazingly awesome mood? HA. is there something you need to get off your chest at the moment? there's a novel's worth. has the last person you kissed met your father? he has. i don't know how he feels about my dad since the divorce, though. he'd always have to hear me rant and cry about him. have you ever woke up crying from a bad dream? i have. have you ever had to block anyone online? plenty of times. have you ever made a boy cry? i sadly have. do you find guys with facial piercings attractive? generally. who was the last person to insult you to your face? colleen, kinda. what scares you more: snakes or spiders? spiders, i'm not scared of snakes. do you wear thongs? i never have. have you ever done yoga? i used to be amazing at it. many summers ago, i used wiifit to lose about 40 pounds. i mainly did yoga. i was super flexible. would you consider yourself a flirt? not in the slightest. do you have any friends who have an STD? i have a family member who does. are you thinner than your best friend? i am not. have you ever been prescribed narcotics? yeah, xanax and another for anxiety that i forgot... how many rings do you wear daily? just one. i want to repair the one jason gave me so i can wear that one again, too... i think i'll do that tonight or tomorrow. do you get car sick or motion sick easily? does it ever stop you doing things? i don't. did you ever dream of living in a house with a white picket fence? not really, no. after you go swimming, do you sit around in your wet bathing suit with a towel or do you immediately change? i usually sit around for a while. what was the last activity you did that made you sweat? i'm pretty sure i sweat very slightly just when i got the craft box out of the closet. because of my medication, literally everything makes me sweat... it's so embarrassing. when was the last time you used lotion? last time i shaved my legs. currently listening to? "tourniquet" by marilyn manson. just another song that makes me think of how i feel about jason in some ways. give us a lyric from this song. "take your hatred out on me, make your victim my head." besides your mouth, where is your favorite spot to get kissed? breasts or neck. ever jacked a dude off? were you even romantically involved with him? hey, when you "can't" have sex, you find the loopholes, sister. and yes, we were dating at the time. would you rather eat your pizza cold or hot? i'd rather it be hot, but cold's fine. have you ever had fake nails? i have not. is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? no. it feels demeaning, honestly. does the person you like, like you back? no, he does not. do you believe ex’s can be friends? if you were deeply romantically involved? fuck no. do you like to text or call more? texting. calling is awkward imo and it's hard to understand the person, at least to me. when was the last time you really pushed yourself to your physical or emotional limits? what were you doing and how did it turn out?   emotionally, right fucking now.  colleen's decided to lecture me again, and i am a hair's width from just... i don't know.  basically, it's taking stupendous amounts of emotional willpower to not go kill myself right now.  i have HAD IT with her.  i won't bore my survey tumblr readers with the full story.  physically, probably the last time i went to the gym, i assume. what's your favorite saying or quote? why does it mean something special to you? how did you come across it?   i answered this in a recent-ish survey.  my favorite (series of) quote(s) takes place in the recent movie "Suicide Squad."  a police asks harley quinn, "harleen, what did he tell you?"  harley's cackling/crying and responds, "he said he loved me." i love the quote so much because i feel it.  bit of villain backstory, harley quinn was driven mad by her boyfriend/former patient, and i'd consider myself to have been through the same (via his absence, anyway, but you get it).  i started as jason's mentor, and i guarantee he'd tell you the same.  then, without him intending it, i've become his fucking slave, shadow, and #1 fan all at once.  i'd do it all for him.  all because he said he was in love with me.  powerful fucking words.  don't abuse them, people. do you enjoy getting dressed up for a night out? what are your favorite places for a "night on the town"?   i like getting dressed up for something that's bigger than usual, but i don't really have "nights out on the town."  i don't do anything even remotely extravagant. what is your favorite classic disney film and why?   does "the lion king" count?  if so, that one.  i can't exactly say why it's my favorite besides simba coming back from a tragedy as the king of the world pretty much, but i love that movie dearly. are you a good liar? under what circumstances do you choose to lie (just little white lies, or bigger ones)? have you ever regretted your choice to be less than truthful?   honestly, when i do lie, i'm rarely caught.  and i'll lie mainly to avoid hurting people, but i confess to sometimes doing it to just avoid confrontation. can you remember the first swear word you ever learned?   no, but i remember the first one i said aloud: shit.  i had no idea it was a bad word.  got a massive lecture in the car. how old were you when you first started to wear make-up? do you prefer others with or without make-up?   late middle school, i think.  and i personally find make-uped faces more aesthetically pleasing, it's why there's such a problem in this world with women feeling ugly without it, but you're still absolutely beautiful without it, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. how long do you need to get to know someone, before you’d think about having a relationship with them?   i don't measure that by time, i measure that by how well i'm getting to know them. is global warming actually happening?   duh. does gpa determine a person's intelligence?   no, fuck this question. do you refuse to talk about your sexuality?   no.  it's not a big deal to anyone. do you have a debit card?   i do not. would you have an abortion if you would otherwise die in childbirth?   no, because i'm not fucking selfish. do you think sleeping is a waste of time? yet you LOVE your dreams, even when they're kinda bad?   i mean, it technically is a waste of time, but we need it regardless. what would you do if your boyfriend got snake bite piercings?   that's totally up to him, i'd love him regardless.  now whether or not i'd find it physically appealing just depends on the person. do you think it's at all possible you may change your religion in your life?  i'm not going to bullshit.  maybe.  DO I THINK I WILL, NO, but do i rule out the possibility, no.  after how pissed i've been at god lately, i wouldn't be entirely surprised if, in the worst case scenario, i became satanic.  god please don't let me. if you were told that you were going to spend the rest of your life with the last person you kissed, would that make you happy?   i would... oh my god.  i would physically break down from joy.  i would sob.  i would bow and praise god beyond all explanation.  i would fucking lose it. who was your first boy/girlfriend and do you still talk to them?   if you want to count him as "the first person who had the 'boyfriend' title," aaron.  and no, we don't.  we're friends on facebook though. have you ever watched the big bang theory, or how about glee?   i've watched and love tbbt, but i've never watched glee. are you considered a “clingy girlfriend?”   i probably would be. do you have a large dog?   she's pretty big, yeah.  we have a boxer. would you ever date someone who watched cartoons?   ... the fuck is this question??  no shit i would!! what was your last dream about?   all i remember is it was the apocalypse and i was back with jason.  he was there with me.  we somehow survived, and demons took over the world after the humans were eliminated.  everyone was trying to be heroes and such by killing them. have you ever seen a crocodile in real life?   i know i've seen alligators, don't know about crocs. if you were drunk and couldn’t walk, would the person you have feelings for, take care of you?   i kinda feel like he would if he was already there, anyway.  he wouldn't like drive somewhere to come watch me, but if he was already there, i'd at least hope he'd be kinda protective... has anyone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear?   not only that i didn't want to hear, but didn't need to hear, too.  tell me again my mental illness is invalid, swear to fuck. why were you last scared?   i'm scared of myself now. do you know a secret about your last ex that would embarrass them?   something potentially might, but i doubt it.  i'd never share the information though regardless. were you a hyper or mellow kid?   i was quite hyper.  i miss that. what’s your favorite movie?   burton's "alice in wonderland" do you hate it when everyone you know is sleeping in, so you are bored?   ha ha, sometimes. how much of your time to do you spend being bored? what could cure that boredom?   honestly... almost 24/7.  i've talked about this before: jason left and took my hobbies with him.  because they feel "bad."  i take no pleasure in what i used to enjoy, like games, drawing, reading...  i honestly think the only thing that'll heal that is spending time with jason himself. what are your least favorite kind of people?   people that think mental illness isn't fucking valid is what i feel most hatred towards at the moment. describe an orgasm. (just do it, nobody will judge you here.)   hahahaha omg the person before me answered "god will judge me," i love that.  anyway, i wouldn't know. are you a picky eater?   beyond so. are you hopelessly addicted to the computer?   i mean i guess you could say that, as i'm always on... would you ever take nakey pictures of yourself?   maybe for my husband??? what cause (feminism, gay rights, abortion, etc) are you most passionate about?   abortion does your best friend have any piercings?   ears, and... i think nose.  omg i feel horrible, i'm not sure. what's better: an apology to your face or a nice apology letter?   an apology to your face. has anyone ever kissed you when you REALLY weren't expecting it? was it a good random kiss, or a bad random kiss?   i don't think so, but it's possible... what is the last thing you got a blister from?   i got one from my flip-flop rubbing against the side of my toe. do you remember the song that used to be really popular, 'she will be loved'?   I DON'T MIIIND SPENDIN' EV-ER-EE-DAAAAAY, OUT ON YOUR CORNER IN THE POURIN' RAAAAIIIIN do you have any friends who have never seen you makeup-free?   i don't. what is the worst thing that could happen to you?   the worst thing that could happen to me already happened. do you think age matters in friendship?   in friendships, absolutely not. are you more likely to eat when you’re bored or depressed?   i wouldn't be overweight otherwise. describe the nearest photograph to you?   it's jason and i at our first prom.  we're peeking at each other from around the tree. do you know anyone who has overdosed?   i know of people, but i know none directly.  well wait... my half-sister overdosed, but didn't die as she called the cops in time. the person you have feelings for says he/she wants to have sex, you say?   ... i would. kfc or popeye’s?   i don't like fried chicken. what was the name of the last pet of yours that died?   link, my former rat. have you ever had to evacuate from a natural disaster?   thank god, no. do you have any family members who are cancer survivors?   quite a few, actually.  my mom survived kidney cancer, my grandma lived through thyroid cancer i believe it was, and i think an aunt of mine had breast cancer. when was the last time you went way out of your comfort zone? what happened as a result?   uhhh i guess when i told my former boss i had to quit, and what happened is obvious. is working with animals something you enjoy? how about working with people? what would be your ideal work environment?  well, it's become clear i can't work with people.  i've had two jobs in retail, and each time, i vomited from the anxiety and when i wasn't vomiting, i was living in constant panic mode.  i haven't had a job with animals yet, but that's what i'm looking for.  the ideal job would just be where i work on my own... do you have any favorite stuffed toys?   oh yeah.  i have a stuffed meerkat named rebel from jason, and my stuffed moose named brownie is very dear to me too. would you ever get any private parts pierced?    heeeell no. do you agree with medication to treat mental illnesses or do you believe that they are a ‘stage’ that a person will grow out of?   mental.  illnesses.  need.  to be.  MEDICATED.  just like a person with asthma needs an inhaler, a mentally ill person needs medication, too!! do you ever get really paranoid about how loud you’re breathing?   i do occasionally, yes. have you ever met a person who was convinced they had supernatural powers?   i "met" a woman who thought she was jesus christ, the mother mary, and god all in one person while in the mental hospital...  she scared THE FUCK out of me. what're you thinking of RIGHT THIS MINUTE?   i actually just started thinking of jason's sick grandma outta nowhere a few seconds ago... and now i feel sad.  she was definitely dying while we were dating, so i guess she's gone now... she was a sweet lady, despite not saying much.  she seemed to like me enough. what is your opinion on sex without emotional commitment?   okay, i know casual sex is gaining popularity, but me?  dude, FUCK that.  sex is supposed to be a very emotional and connecting experience.  it's not "just for fun" and shouldn't occur everytime you feel horny with someone or whatever. what are you doing right now?   doing this survey, possibly talking to jax if she's still online, and listening to "slo-mo-tion" by marilyn manson. what books, if any, have made you cry?   that i can remember, "the notebook," "a walk to remember," "old yeller," and i think i teared up in "the giver."  there was also this one book about an elderly couple we read in high school, but i cannot remember the name...  i remember tearing up. are you picky about spelling and grammar?   very much so. song you REALLY wanna fuck to?   okay, if it's with jason, i do plan on deliberately trying to woo him into having sex to "heart-shaped glasses" by marilyn manson because uh... this is terrible... but it reminds me of his ex because she always wore heart-shaped glasses and i fucking hate her for MANY reasons and idk it'd just kinda feel like a huge "fuck you" to her lmao.  yes i am a child somewhere in my heart.  just to add to it, when i get sunglasses, yeah... i found heart-shaped glasses on rebel's market and i want them. if you could have sex with anyone, who would it be?   it'd still be jason.  sorry, link neal. do your hands shake a lot?   well, i have an essential tremor that's only gotten worse over the years, so. the mere thought of anyone ever made you... you know... "moist"... downstairs?   omfg do you really have to say that word this question bothers me lmao.  but yeah. i like dirty questions, let's continue! do you masturbate? if not, why? also if not... what's the most tempted you've ever felt? you know you have at least once!   i do not masturbate because i personally find it disgustingly lustful and gross, no matter how clean you may be.  i've been tempted before once, sure.  i had a really hard time one night kinda recently when i was thinking rather sexually of jason, but i did nothing about it. do you get crazy sex hair?   i wouldn't know, but i've had some pretty wild hair from doing sexual things.  my hair was super long when we were together. is everything going to be okay?   i am the wroooong person to ask. have you ever had a pet rat?   four so far, yeah. do you like free samples?   who doesn't?! have you ever made yourself look like a fool for love?   i'm pretty sure i always do nowadays.  to be so obsessed with your ex-boyfriend... it's silly. who was the last person you slow danced with?   jason...  long time ago... has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you?   i'm pretty sure no. at concerts, are you one of those people that push and shove their way to the front, or are you one of the those people that gets there hours before in order to ensure that you get a front-row position; or do you just suck it up and stand wherever you can?   i've only been to one, at which i sucked it up and stood wherever i could. did you ever like jewel?   like one song anyway, but she has an absolutely heavenly voice. when watching scary movies/hearing scary stories/etc, what subject scares you the most?   when women are raped by demons.  just.  let's not. do you think marilyn manson looks good?   ha ha how funny, i'm actually listening to him right now!!  but anyway, VERY rarely, honestly.  in some pictures/videos he looks pretty appealing.