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kimageddon · 2 years

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A Prince of Dathomir - Chapter 108

Maul x Nightsister OC (Zaiya Valessa) - Slight Canon Divergence

Word count: Approx 3800 Contains/Warnings: Threats, mentions of violence, toxic behaviour Chapter Summary: Savage is taken by the Nightsisters, Zaiya, Feral and Maul plan their next move. Notes: (at the end)

Selection - Part 2

Maul had been engrossed in the knowledge of the Nightsisters’ tomes all day, while usually he and Zaiya read together, she had been noticeably absent from the Temple Archive. The droid had not been able to tell him, but he had thankfully been distracted from worrying about it, when Talzin had entered and began speaking to him.

She told him of the power of the Nexus, of the spells that could be cast from it, and the history of the Nightsisters… all things he had heard Zaiya speak of during their Dreamwalks, but he did not let on to Talzin that he knew it.

She had spoken to him of his vision, the last time they had been there and he had taken part of the ritual and the hallucinogenic powder. He had seen himself in a position of power… and a great shift in the Galaxy. It was maddening that he could not recall it with great clarity.

Talzin had offered to help unlock the visions for him, if he were but to allow her to enter his mind. Maul had not been inclined to agree and had deflected while he contemplated her words.

Currently he found himself waiting for her return, meditating and trying not to think about Zaiya. He pretended not to be relieved when he sensed her presence. But she wasn’t alone.

The curtain flung back and she entered the room followed a step or two later by… Feral?

“What is it, Lieutenant?” he asked with a scowl, the rage coming off her was palpable.

“She took Savage!” Zaiya snapped, “they have some plan and they keep avoiding me… I have to guess it’s a ritual of some kind, and not a good one either! I don’t know what they will do with him!” She was furious but not making sense. Where was Savage? What ritual did she mean? What was going on?

“Why did you agree to it then? Why did you help them?” Feral asked, accusingly, he seemed sullen and angry but Maul was lost on the specifics. What was Feral even doing here?

“I didn’t help them! I need them to believe me and I just…”

“Then why did you claim me as your mate!?” Feral cried and Maul froze.

“You what!?” he snarled. After all her sweet words?! Would she really--? No… no she wouldn’t!

“I didn’t--” she let out a cry of frustration as a sharp ache formed in Maul’s chest. “Feral… I had to say that… you think I could stand by and watch you be killed?!”

“She… she wouldn’t have, it’s not allowed!” Feral frowned.

“I couldn’t trust her not to. She has killed people I care about before, and I will not allow it to happen again.” She looked at Maul and with a sombre expression. “I claimed Feral as my mate, but they were only words, sire.”

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like that she even had to pretend. She turned to Feral who seemed confused.

“So… we don’t have to…?” he trailed off and Maul saw a stricken expression cross her face.

“Goddess no!” she gasped, “Feral, it’s me! I would never--!” Then her shoulders slouched. “I suppose I have no grounds to be outraged; but I know how you feel about Brutus, I would never force that upon you, it was the only way I could think of that might save your life.” Feral seemed more relaxed and Maul too… but he still hated this. All of it. Worse still, he was worried. Where was Savage? What were they doing to him?

“We should not have to hide like this, nor bend to the whim of these witches,” Maul sneered. “We should take Savage and leave. Was that not the next step of our plan? To take my brothers and forge our own path?”

“If you think you could defeat an entire clan of Witches, be my guest,” Zaiya snorted. “You are strong, My Lord, but you would need nothing short of an army.”

Maul was indignant but even he knew his limits. Mother Talzin was powerful, and Zaiya was still learning so much from her, gaining power… but he didn’t like it. He didn’t like any of this. Feral kicked at the ground and rubbed the back of his neck.

“What do we do now?”

Zaiya stopped her pacing, and Maul caught a glimpse of her tight expression, her full lips pressed into a line.

“You stay here,” she said with grim determination. “I will try to see what will happen, they didn’t want to talk to me about it -- but even less do they want to talk about it in front of the males.” She ran a hand over her braid, a few of her curls had come loose from it and framed her strong face delicately, he watched her seem to search the air in front of her for answers as she spoke.

“You expect me to hide like a coward--”

“You are no coward,” Zaiya said firmly, rounding on Maul with a fierce look, then her voice lowered. “We use their knowledge to increase our power… though the cost is beginning to far outweigh the gains.” He still didn’t like it, he had never liked pretending, even when his Master had required it in the past. He could of course, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed a single minute of it.

“Very well,” he muttered, “I will collect what I have studied today.” He spoke quietly, his lips near her ear. He had the sudden urge to kiss her, as though it might help. But both the droid and his brother were present. He couldn’t let them see his weakness.

She nodded and turned away, the beads dangling over the heavy cloth that hung over the doorway clattered lightly, and she was gone. Maul’s teeth grit. He knew she made him weak. That he must never let another see the way he felt about her. He had revealed too much on the junk station to the smuggler, the emotion had overwhelmed him when he was always supposed to be the master of them. They had used him and not the other way around. He had returned to his training, meditating and strengthening his will.

Perhaps then he might be able to be free of this hold she had on him. Even at the thought, a primal part of him rallied, denying wanting to be rid of her. She was his. Passion was the path of the Sith… and yet he was not Sith anymore… was he? It was difficult to turn from everything he had ever known, he was unsure he could have done so without her. Yet another thing he fell into her debt with. He refused it. He did not owe her, he would never beholden to another ever again…

His fingers twitched and he turned back to his youngest sibling. Whose expression was rather quizzical. He just glared at the younger Zabrak and moved to the centre of the room, he would meditate, grow stronger and not think about what was happening outside.

----

Savage lay on the altar surrounded by the Nightsisters as they chanted. Zaiya nearly ran to him, only to be stopped by Talzin’s raised hand, a warning for her not to interfere. She bit her lip as she watched the butter-skinned Zabrak as he lay unconscious and listened to the chanting. They were binding him to Asajj… invoking power. She stepped closer, at Talzin’s side.

“What is this?” she hissed, her stomach churned and it was hard to breathe with her hearts in her throat.

“This male will become our instrument of vengeance for Asajj… loyal only to her, but that we shall send to Dooku under the guise of a replacement for her. He will learn the skills of the Sith, and when the time is right he will strike… and Asajj will have her revenge.” Talzin explained and Zaiya turned her head slightly.

She had not offered such assistance to Zaiya. There had been no help from other Nightsisters. No plans. No rituals. She’d just been sent off-world as a child. On her own. No plan, no nothing. True enough she’d been stubborn enough to do it alone, and Talzin had offered credits to the Bounty Hunters but… corcitura. Maybe Sheena had been right after all.

The empty pit that opened in her chest as she looked back at Savage, all that didn’t matter now.

“What is being done to him?” her voice wavered slightly, though her face was neutral. She’d had practice controlling her face, not her voice.

“You shall see,” Talzin said coldly. It was as though she were being struck by multiple sharp objects. Her breath caught in her throat as Savage’s body rose, swirled in the green mist.

“Surely there is another way--” Zaiya tried but her voice died as she watched his body begin to change. Glowing green smoke and magickal flames engulfed his form and he grew. His limbs, his horns, his torso, his muscles, his head. Suddenly he took up the entire space on the altar.

The back of her eye burned and Zaiya couldn’t breathe -- what had they done to him?! This was wrong. She could not allow this!! She could not let this happen! She had to stop this. She promised to protect him! Short of attacking Talzin right then, she could do nothing to stop it. Zaiya stared in shock at the transformed Nightbrother.

“He is ready, Sisters!” Talzin said with confidence. She reached out and tapped Savage’s forehead much as she had the first time. The Sleeping Touch, Talzin had called it, a powerful magick that had her able to induce sleep in even the strong-minded. Zaiya’s guts twisted and she heard Savage groan as his eyes opened. He looked around for a second and his eyes landed on Asajj, a second later his huge hand wrapped around her neck and squeezed. Zaiya’s eye lit up for a moment, had it backfired? Would he turn on the Sisters?

“Let… me… go…!” Asajj rasped, a hint of panic in her voice. No one rushed to her aid but that was unsurprising.

“Calmly, Sister,” Talzin purred and Asajj relaxed.

“Let me go,” she repeated with an even and firm tone. Savage seemed to snap to his senses and released her.

“That’s better,” Talzin praised and Savage moved to stand, swinging his legs over the side of the altar. He rose and Zaiya’s eyes widened. He stood tall now, as tall as Mother Talzin and twice as broad.

“What have you done…?” Zaiya breathed.

“Bring in the prisoners!” Asajj called and Zaiya’s head whipped around in alarm. From the temple, she witnessed two figures being escorted, to her horror, it was Feral and Maul!

“What is the meaning of this!?” Zaiya cried, finally forcing her legs to move.

“There is one final test,” Asajj said and Zaiya was ready to tear her throat out. Asajj looked at the transformed Nightbrother. “Kill them.”

“Savage?” she heard Feral gasp, and turned to see the two Zabrak looking at their middle brother in shock and horror. Savage took a step forward, his face blank like he was in a daze.

Zaiya darted forward, positioning herself between the males defiantly. She was going to make this woman pay.

“No.” Zaiya spoke in that strong voice that made the ground shake. She saw Talzin look at her in surprise but ignored it. “You will not touch them!” Zaiya stood between Asajj and the males.

“We must remove his final weakness,” Asajj scoffed, “are you upset that you have to share your toys--”

“You will not speak to me with such disrespect!” Zaiya snarled, and stepped closer, the smoke from the Nexus eye flowed upward. “I am Ale’sule of the Lu’lupta Mountain Clan! You just arrived here, Sister and I have been patient enough. You are not the leader of a Separatist army here, Asajj Ventress. You are lucky an outsider like you was accepted into this clan…!”

“I was born to the clan! As I understand it, you were not even born on Dathomir!” Asajj snapped back. Zaiya blinked. Talzin had told her that?! A scowl marred her features.

“Be that as it may, I am heir to the Matriarchy and I will not allow one that claims to be of our clan disrespect me.” She stood nose to nose with the woman and jabbed a finger into her chest. “ You will learn your place or I shall teach it to you--” Suddenly her arm was grabbed and yanked away from Asajj. Savage stood over her with a dark expression on his face. As she stared at him, she saw no recognition in his eyes.

He didn’t know her.

“You will not touch my Mistress,” he said in a baritone voice that sounded too deep. Everything about him was changed. His body, voice… and clearly his memories too if he did not know her. Zaiya jerked her arm away and glared at this creature that could not be her brother. His hand lowered as her power flared.

“And you. Will not touch me,” she snarled and rounded back on Asajj. “Control your pet.” She took a step past Asajj and it was then she turned to Talzin… who was smiling. “You allowed this?” Zaiya gestured between the two younger Nightsisters. Talzin just chuckled.

“Sometimes you must learn to fight your own battles, Zaiya Valessa.” But apparently Asajj could have help in her battles. “He is ready,” the Ma’tri said, returning to the task at hand apparently. Asajj’s revenge.

“He has not been tested!” Asajj protested. “He must kill one of the--”

“Touch my Shi’kaa and I will show you what happened to the last Nightsister that defied me out of turn!” Zaiya snapped loudly. The other Nightsisters around them visibly flinched and shuffled back. Even Asajj grew wary. Talzin held up her hands.

“Enough. He is ready. Take the other two males back to the temple,” Talzin said and two other Nightsisters began to escort Maul and Feral away. There was fury in their eyes and she mirrored it.

Talzin waved a hand and the green magicks sparked in the ground before her, a long handled glaive rose from seemingly nothing. “For you, an enchanted blade, blessed with our most potent magicks,” she hissed. The weapon hovered near Savage as he reached to take it.

“I think it’s time we introduced the apprentice to his new Master.” Asajj said to Talzin, though the confidence in her voice had wavered somewhat after Zaiya’s warning. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mother?”

Talzin smirked and Zaiya had a sinking feeling in her stomach. What was she doing? It didn’t make sense.

“Dooku will be very pleased with his new assassin,” Talzin purred and Zaiya looked at Savage in alarm. Despite Talzin having claimed so before… it was still wrong. “Ready the ship and a convoy, we are going to Serenno.”

----

Serenno was of moderate climate, far warmer than Dathomir, and the sun blinded him somewhat as Savage Opress stepped out of the ship and rose to his full height before his new Master. All he knew was that he had to serve the Lord well, that he would do everything in his power to grow stronger in the Dark Side.

His Mistress has given him a command. He did wish to be powerful. To take control and wield power enough that he might be able to lay waste to his enemies and all that he despised.

Oh how he hated. Awakening on the altar he was surrounded by witches, those that looked down on him, those that used and subjugated him. But they were strong. He too must become strong. Stronger than they. He hated those witches. Hated Mother Talzin and his Mistress Asajj Ventress. This pompous and powerful human before him. Savage hated him too.

He still did not understand the scene he had witnessed when he had awoken, that Nightsister that had defended the other Nightbrothers. Standing before him with such a fierce expression. She was powerful, he had felt it. But that meant nothing. If the Nightbrothers she defended needed protecting then they were weak, and she was a fool. She had looked at him so strangely and tried to speak to him… but he ignored her. He needed nothing more from the Nightsisters. He needed nothing. He would earn this power on his own, through his emotions. That is what his Mistress said, drawing power from his feelings was intense but dangerous, and the way of the Dark Side. He would succeed.

He would destroy them all.

Power was all that mattered now, and he would see through this training, and push himself to learn how to wield the Force. Some of it came more easily. He could feel the tendrils of the Force around him, and those with him. The incredible darkness within the man that appraised him.

How did he know this power so well? He knew he had been taught to strengthen his connection to the Force, though it was not his Mother nor his Mistress. He remembered being taught… but there was no hatred in the memory.

Savage scowled to himself. Dwelling on the past was futile. He needed his hatred and anger to make him more powerful. That is where he needed to focus, to meditate on his rage, focus that power and make it his weapon. Control and master it like a tool. Count Dooku would teach him this. Dooku himself gave some vague words of approval as he regarded the zabrak male and then Savage watched the Nightsisters depart. Leaving him there on the planet like some sort of cargo to be offloaded. A low growl formed in his throat and he turned to follow Dooku into the main building.

His training would now begin.

----

Feral glared at the wall. He sat in Zaiya’s -- and Maul’s -- chamber, the latter lounged unceremoniously on a chair by the fire, while the former paced the room. Feral scowled, the words he’d heard Zaiya say as he was almost dragged off… A pet? That’s how she talked about them? No… no it was just for the Sister’s benefit, right? He didn’t know what to think but this entire day had thrown him. She had been here for a few weeks and hadn’t said anything? Hadn’t come to see them? And now this?

Not only that, watching Zaiya and Maul interact was odd. While it was refreshing to see a Nightsister being told what to do, Maul was being entirely too dismissive of what had just happened.

“He’s on Serenno…” she muttered, “...security… can’t get to… Jedi would…”

“Do not speak of the wretched Jedi,” Maul sneered.

“If there were another attack, it would have to seem like the Jedi--”

“Yes that worked so well before,” Maul replied with a scoff.

“I know!” she snapped but the look the crimson Zabrak gave her had her wilting. Something bristled in Feral. “My apologies, my Lord.” She took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. The Nightsister ran a hand over her braid and she groaned. She looked torn.

“There is little chance another attack would work, we cannot risk that he discovers Talzin and Ventress’ plot. The Separatists and the Sith are ruthless, they would wipe out the entire clan.” Zaiya sighed.

“Is that not what you want?” Maul asked.

“What?” She frowned.

“The Nightsisters subjugate you and cast you aside. Even now they favour an outsider over you.” Feral watched Zaiya’s face tighten, was she really so defensive of his and his brothers oppressors?

“They may be, but--”

“It is the Sisters themselves that are the reason for your suffering! Even now they treat us as cattle and do not acknowledge your true potential! They do not know your power!” Maul spoke passionately and if they were not who they were, it might be a heartwarming comment. Not to mention the malice evident in Maul’s voice. Zaiya’s mouth formed a line and she seemed wary.

“My mother is here,” she said finally.

“A mother that abandoned you to the Galaxy at large, one that did not protect you and let a child wander the stars! She did nothing to stop what happened to you!”

“You aren’t one of them,” Feral said finally, and the other two looked at him. “They did this to Savage, shouldn’t they pay for it?”

“Not if it means you two are hurt or injured!” she protested finally, “Or Savage is killed, or they target the Nightbrother village!” Feral quietened, she had a point. Maul however…

“Do not let your compassion weaken you, Zaiya! You must do what you can to destroy your enemies! If there are casualties, then so be it. You must be willing to do what you must in order to gain victory!” He stood, and Feral could barely believe it.

“And if they did kill Savage in punishment?” the youngest brother protested. The cold look Maul gave him was utterly terrifying.

“If it meant the enemy were defeated.” He said plainly. Feral was stunned. He really had such little care for his brothers?! Was there anything he cared about?

“Sire!” Zaiya gasped, “you don’t mean that.” Maul just looked at her. A pained expression crossed her face and she stared, mouth agape. Then an anger Feral had not seen in her before sparked to life. “That is your brother! And whether you remember or not, he is family. Feral is family!” she gestured at him and he saw Maul look over briefly.

“There is no--”

“If you mention the Sith way one more time…!” she hissed and Maul sprang to his feet. His hand on her jaw firmly, forcing her head lower so he loomed over her.

“You do not speak to your Lord that way, Lieutenant,” he glowered at her with a curled lip. Zaiya was frozen in place.

“What are you doing?” Feral whispered in shock. “You can’t! She's a Nightsister!” Maul turned to look at Feral casually.

“Nightsisters, do not command me, brother. You and Savage will learn this. And my Lieutenant will learn to trust my orders,” he added pointedly and let go of Zaiya. There was a look on her face that Feral did not understand.

“I trust you, sire,” she said emphatically. “It is the one that trained you to not count on your family -- it is he I do not trust.”

“Th-then… we are just going to leave him?!” Feral asked, aghast.

“Unless you plan to fight a Sith Lord, the Separatist army and the entire Nightsister clan… then we must.” Zaiya said, sinking back to the edge of the bed. Feral felt his hearts sink. This couldn’t be happening. She said she’d protect them! She said she wouldn’t let this happen!?

“When the moment comes…” Maul began, and the two others looked up. He met their gazes and continued. “We will get him out.”

“You mean that?” Feral asked, his eyes widening. “He is my brother,” Maul said firmly and nodded, “we will get him back.”

Notes: Hello again my lovely readers!

Thank you so much for your patience! I hope you enjoyed this one! It's a little angsty but not the worst I can dish out! Haha! Maul got a little worried for a second there! Now, as for the next chapter… Zaiya enlists help from a powerful source… but will they choose to help her?

Thank you also so so much for all you comments too! I have been reading them, I just haven't had the chance to sit down and reply, I hope to do that soon! They really do keep me motivated and I love hearing your thoughts and how this story of mine makes you feel. I hope you all enjoy and I look forward to seeing you next time! :)

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#a prince of dathomir #darth maul #darth maul x oc #maul x oc #darth maul fic #nightsister #nightsister oc #zaiya valessa #asajj ventress #savage opress #feral opress #dathomir

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cvpiidbiites · 5 months

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Oc Asks - 2 ໒꒰ྀི ´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

CW; Mentions of blood, violence, brief mention of sex, not proof-read </3 my eyes started to sting and get blurry

⊹ When have they been unable to save someone or something no matter how much they tried?

˖ Fia; In one of Fia's last years at the orphanages they had to watch someone that grew very close to them slowly lose to their sickness, a sickness we end up learning much more about in later years called Loneliness Syndrome. Fia without realizing that everything they were trying to do wasn't helping them. They dressed up as knights, and princes, and even made outfits for both of them but it was only getting worse for them.

˖ Vesper; On one of his many travels through the universe he stopped at a small world forgotten by the others, trade was his plan but he found himself under a tree with a few kids laying in the grass. He was reading them a simple fairy tail he found on his many travels. The joyed calm looks on their face made the troubles of traveling feel rewarding if it meant they could listen to a simple story. He recalls this memory every time he reads in Robin's room, tears dripping onto the pages as he sits there alone, knowing he wasn't there to save her.

˖ Dúlamán; Dúlamán came back from grabbing extra supply from town she and her lover stopped at. The closer the got to where their boat was parked the more smoke from the sky grew heavier in the dark blue night sky, each step was getting faster than the last as they prayed her sweet honey bee was alive. Their fast walked became running, and from running they threw down everything in her arms and started sprinting. Her lover's ship ablaze in front of her. "Cebe!? Cebe where are you?!" Dúlamán screamed out as she looked around for any sign of her being alive.

˖ Eve; When "she" awoke on the floor of a house she didn't know and a diary in "her" hand and a cup a spilled Sbiten all over "her" and the hardwood floor. Their eyes drift to the book in their hand reading the note left there, in cursive lettering it read "My name is Е́ва Морозов, and my husband is going to kill me." Flipping back through the all diaries they could find in the house, reading them front to back for hours on end. The fiend Arachne took on the name Е́ва/Eve, taking on the life this body had. "Eve" now waited in the living room as her husband walked through the door, as his eyes trailed up he was visibly worried as his hands shakingly reach for his hunting rifle. As he lifted it up to aim at her he keeled over, a red hair woman standing behind him with a sickly calm smile as Eve ran over and kneeled down trying to save him.

˖ Ambrose; Eir lost their home to the IPC, something they tried hard to help, something they went door to door collecting money to help fund to keep the world form being destroyed. Ambrose went out of their way to start traveling around the comics to sell things they found. On one unfortunate day in the The Xianzhou Luofu after a rather large business deal, Ambrose relaxed in a small cafe for a few moments figuring out their next planet to visit only to hear from some passerbys that a small planet was blown up, the description bone chillingly close to Ambrose's. Ee stood up too fast and collapse on the floor.

⊹ How much death and/or destruction have they wrought?

˖ Lucrezia; During her younger days as a nurse in training a few prisoners were lost by her hands. It eats at her every now and then, being another reason to why she drinks.

˖ Eternal; I would like to think she would cause a lot more death and destruction if she had more knowledge about the family, however for now the only death and destruction she causes are the monsters that inhabit the dreamscape. Oh, and that one guy that tried to get a little too,, handsy with her after a show.

˖ Silviu; A lot more than they would like to admit, the thought of the number rising makes her sick to his stomach.

˖ Dúlamán; Enough to be wanted in serval cities and kingdoms, anything to be the greatest pirate of the Star Seas.

˖ Passion; None and she would like to keep it that way.

⊹ Do they try to prevent unnecessary suffering?

˖ Meringue; Love likes to see herself as a peaceful Aeon, however she was told by the ones who raised her that she was quite violent in her past life. With this knowledge they go out of her way to make sure love doesn't do anything to cause her people suffering.

˖ Eternal; If you truly matter to her she would go out of her way to prevent unnecessary suffering. If you are someone they hardly know or care about she much rather be a simple bystander and watch what happens, only stepping in to boost her reputation around the hotel or if it caused threat to someone she cared about.

˖ Eve; To her all suffering is unnecessary but they way she goes about "fixing" the problem is much different than what you think. She believes that a suffering person will be reborn in a better situation. No matter how small the suffering is Eve's answer to the problem would be a mercy kill.

⊹ How do they feel about sparing women and children if given the choice? Do they value certain lives over others?

˖ Morix; A true southern man who would lay down his life for children and women to be safe. Truly wishes to save all lives if he could. Values lives of those who need help over others regardless of gender but is more soft towards women from growing up in a household full of them.

˖ Ambrose; Can spare a child easily but had far too many run ins with evil women to cause them to be very hesitant with sparing women based on their gender. Does not value one life over another but will try to make sure those who are less fortunate get to safety first.

˖ Silviu; Believes more in sparing children then adults of any gender. Does not fully value any certain lives over others but leans more towards children since they can still grow and change while adults.

˖ Valentines; Women and children first in her heart, sparing them without a second thought. Values both of their lives over men because the thought of a child or mother dying would eat her up from the inside.

⊹ What's their pain tolerance?

˖ Eternal; Physically high pain tolerance and high emotional.

˖ Vesper; Physically decent pain tolerance but low emotional.

˖ Morix; Physically decent pain tolerance but high emotional.

˖ Ambrose; Physically high pain tolerance but low emotional.

⊹ Do they feel glee at the sight of blood?

˖ Silviu; She hates the idea of how her eyes light up, how they lean closer to the one injured. Silviu doesn't feel glee but more a yearning for it. He hates how hazy her eyes look when there's a pool of blood near her. Hunger pains and a dizzy feeling in their head is all they can manage to feel, but never glee. Despite wanting blood it never truly made her happy, voice in his head of his past love ones screaming "monster" over and over again as they crawl closer to the blood.

˖ Dúlamán; Sees it as a stepping stone towards their goal, the more bodies that pile up the less competition there it.

˖ Eve; A true "The red means I love you" woman. She does feel glee when she sees blood, it fills her with joy watching a mess happen convince this is helping them.

˖ Maple; Is quite squeamish! Hates the sight of blood and only gets through seeing it on herself is knowing bun gets to put a colorful band aid on it.

⊹ What do they regret the most?

˖ Morix; Not taking the chance to leave town when he had it. Morix gave up on a opportunity to play in a big city far out but turned it down to help his mother get better and pay rent. He knows its for the best but it still eats him up at night, thinking how it could of been his big break and how he could've sent money home to help them pay rent and upgrade the barn and house, enough so they didn't have to scrape by to survive.

˖ Fia; Leaving without a final goodbye letter when they die, many things they wished to say but feared they didn't have enough time. Like a cat knowing they aren't getting better they did the only thing they could in their eyes, run and hide like a coward till they passed. They wished was to see everyone one last time but they regretted not having that final goodbye dinner.

˖ Passion; An argument that wedge between her and her sibling's relationship. Raising your younger sibling is no easy job but not having your own shoulder to lean on when you're supposed to keep up the perfect act is what caused her to blow up.

˖ Dra; Never telling Passion that they forgive her for the fight, but instead just staying out even more. Dra would get into more reckless acts like skating down hills that were too steep, running across thin ice with her friends, or even the time he and his friends snuck into the observatory during curfew.

˖ Willo; being reckless with her own body in the fight against the kishin, going out of her way to protect others who could easily defend themselves, even her own Meister who Willo willing came out of her weapon form to push her out of the way for Willo could take the blow.

⊹ Do they have the ability to love?

˖ Dra; The only one on this list who can love easily, a simple happy kid with a big heart to give to everyone.

˖ Eve; She believes she is able to love but it is simply a concept she tricked herself in believing she can do. Eve in her core is still just a fiend trying to survive.

˖ Moonstone; Love is an extremely hard thing for them to learn, they're mentor is Jade of all people. If given the chance they had a new profession and had people surrounded by them willing to teach him the concept of loving someone, they would be able to. Loving Moonstone and being loved by them is a extremely slow process that you have to be willing to put in the work to achieve.

˖ Cebe; Love? No never, its not in her to love someone or something. obsess with? Absolutely. She knowns nothing but devotion to her queen and giving out fake love to a certain sea creature to make it easier to bring things back to her queen.

˖ Yenisei; I truthfully don't think Yenisei would ever have the ability to love. Not for a partner, a friend, family, or even a pet. They are nothing but hunger waiting for the next person to come wandering in their woods.

⊹ Do they have empathy? For whom? For what?

˖ Eternal; For Misha and other young people the family has control over, especially if they don't know it. She knew Misha's grandfather before he passed and now she has to watch Misha grow every day wanting to be just like him and go on adventures despite the pain he will have tot suffer, the fears he will have to face.

˖ Silviu; His fellow coworkers. She holds much emotion towards all of them despite the struggle of expressing it to them.

˖ Meringue; Empathy for her people and the suffering hey went through. Love has heard of the pain and suffering she caused in "her past life" before the reincarnation and she's being as sweet as she can be to their people.

˖ Willo; Her Meister. Willo gets so hyper that she doesn't realize how annoying or extra she is till she's laying down at night replaying everything that happened. Her mind wandering around "do they hate me? why am I like this? Why can't I be normal for once" causing her lack of sleep resulting in her being late to waking up and the cycle continues.

⊹ What's their relationship to their body? Self esteem? Self image?

˖ Lucrezia; Luci's self image body wise is fine, she has had a few moments of comparing herself to other but nothing that truly keeps her up at night. Her self esteem to work, to being compared to her brother who seem to be the more favored growing up, to even her partner is where it really plummets. Luci sees herself as second place, the second choice even. Good but you could do better, she knows she's up there in skill and status but not where she wishes to be. She wishes to be seen as equals and not first and second.

˖ Morix; Simple chubby trans cowboy who a would rather die than be seen with any ounce of skin showing.

˖ Eve; Her and this body are two separate things, Eve does not feel anything towards it was it was simply a gift from their rebirth. No true opinions on it or others. A large disconnect when it comes to their self image.

˖ Dra; Its quite hard since it changes day to day but a good 50/50 with their self image. Some days Dra is fine with how they are and how they decorate themself, while other days he compares himself to her sister and how she is so confident in how she looks and acts. Dra's hands are one of their main self imagine problems due to how scuffed up they look from the countless fail tricked they're done. Not only do they look ugly but its also a reminded of how much they are a failure.

⊹ If they could go back in time for 5/10/15 minutes and change something, what would it be?

˖ Fia; If they were able to go back in time as an adult, as a simple bystander they would do anything just to see their mother. To listen to the conversation as to why she left, to see why everything has happened, hell even if it was just 5 minutes just to see their mother and baby them interact. The lost of a mother figure in their life is something that changed them drastically but unknown to them if they were to ever meet Fia would not be the same person as they were today.

˖ Cebe; She would go back before the night of a big heist her and Dúlamán went on, she would only need those few minuets to see where Dúlamán hid the ring, HER ring, when they left. Maybe then she wouldn't have to chase down this sea dweller across the world and be home at her hive to propose to her queen.

˖ Ambrose; Maybe if Ambrose had a few more minuets their planet would still be alive, maybe if they had 15 more minuets they would of been able to scrape more money together and contact the IPC. Too many maybes and no answers, no one to ask and no one to know.

⊹ Are they codependent? Do they have abandonment issues?

˖ Lucrezia; Grew up never leaving her brother's hip but now as an adult she slowly got used to being alone in her office besides the occasionally patients visits and maybe a surprise visit from a special someone. She craves to have someone around her but has gotten too used to being alone so she doesn't see the purpose of asking.

˖ Eve; Codependent on her team/coworkers. Not allowed to be alone or you will hear her sobs and screams haunting you throughout the buildings. After watching "her" husband die in front of her she has extreme abandonment issues. In the most un funny way her scream and sobs sound like ghasts from minecraft but more bone chilling.

˖ Morix; Not codependent at all, not even big abandonment issues. He enjoys his alone time and can deal with being by himself, sure he might get lonely after awhile but he can deal with it till the next time he opens his show at the bar.

˖ Meringue; Extremely codependent, she was raised around many people and continues to live around many people always being watched. If there is a chance she's alone with no eyes on her does she even exist?

⊹ What's their relationship to sex? Modesty?

˖ Cebe; Views it as a sacred act to show you devotion and obedience to someone.

˖ Lumi; Views it as a way to show love to someone in another form.

˖ Moonstone; Views it as a way to gain information.

˖ Passion; Views it as a way of creating a family.

⊹ Do they enjoy the taste of blood?

˖ Vesper; Find the metal taste interesting but would never go out of his way to taste it. Doesn't really like the taste but since he doesn't get to taste it often Vesper just finds it interesting.

˖ Silviu; Do they enjoy the taste? Yes. Are they fine with the fact she enjoys it? Absolutely not. It take Silviu a long time, a deep relationship before they ask if they can feed off of you. Someone who will crave it but rather take himself out than ask someone for help in fear she will lose control.

˖ Willo; Hates hates it! Had a bloody nose dripped into their mouth once and gagged so much you thought they were dying on the floor. Sounded like a cat with the worlds worst hairball.

˖ Moonstone; Not so much but the type to use it as lipstick. A hand caressing the person's face before catching some on his finger and slowly pull out their phone, applying it like lipstick before leaving them to bleed out on the floor.

˖ Dra; Does not know what real blood taste like, only the syrup that runs in the bodies of everyone who lives in the world. Enjoys the cherry tasting syrup.

⊹ Do they enjoy the feel of hot blood on their skin?

˖ Lucrezia; Grew to ignore the feeling, after operating on so many bodies she learned to ignore it. It wasn't until she held her dying lover in her arms, blood soaking her shirt and hands as Lucrezia tried to defibrillate her lover with nothing but her vision and her hands. Ever since that night she refused to work again as the head nurse, no longer able to work in the same place let alone stand in there after what happened.

˖ Willo; Hates it so much, when the she had to deal with black and red blood covering her she broke down screaming and sobbing. She's a kid. She's a kid being trained and taught how to be a weapon, do you really think she would enjoy this?

˖ Lumi; Lumi is very conflicted about it. On one hand she finds the idea gross and horrifying, the fear of how it got there is another story. Though the warmth is quite,, soothing? Patching up her lover too and having her blood on them feel very intimate in a way she doesn't know how to explain.

˖ Moonstone; Yes, a lot in fact. Or really that's what they would tell you if they were asked. Moonstone is quite disturbed by the thought of it, rather destroying worlds with a push of a button than by hand.

⊹ Have they tore someone to shreds with their bare hands? With their teeth?

˖ Fia; Never but if they had to they would not hesitate.

˖ Eternal; No but almost once.

˖ Cebe; Often, in fact she has plans who's the next person will be. Dúlamán being the only person that comes to mind when she thinks of tearing someone up to shred along with anyone who will get in the way of her and what she wants.

˖ Guidance; Would if asked by Guidance's god, anything Guidance's god wants they will get.

˖ Silviu; A few times, in fact it was something the protocol tried to train out of her. A secrete criminal record from when they were a teen was found, it started a week after the First Light happened. Someone close to Silviu found out about her being a radiant and they became quite hostile toward him and her grandmother for hiding Silviu. One thing lead to another and Grandma Vivian is holding Silviu in her chest, gently wiping away his tears and the blood soaked mouth. Soft pleads of forgiveness and promises of never doing it again.

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nifolution · 3 years

Text

Baby Blues 2

Warnings: Angst, smut, fluff, infertility, heartbreak, cheating, manipulation, noncon/dubcon, harassment, pregnancy, argument, therapy, making up

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. 18+ only due to smut and noncon/dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Chapter 1 Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter 2

Y/N didn't recall driving back to the compound. Only when looking up at the building did she become aware of where she was. Unsure of what else to do, she furiously wiped the tears from her eyes, blew her nose and started walking back to the lab.

Judging by the stares of the people she passed, she must have looked as distraught as she felt. Their scrutiny provoking her into a sprint. Y/N was halfway to her destination when Natasha caught her in the hallway.

“Hey, hey, slow down.” Natasha took in her appearance and immediately became concerned. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Y/N’s eyes went wide as they continued to water. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but no words would form. Only a low whimper as her lips trembled. Seeing her friend breaking down before her eyes, Natasha guided her into the nearest room.

The occupants of said room scattered with one glare from the redheaded assassin. Y/N tried to leave with them. “Nat, I have to get back to work… Shit, I forgot Tony’s coffee.”

“Tony can get his own damn coffee. Tell me what's happened?”

She didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about it. Y/N started hyperventilating, feeling like she was collapsing in on herself. Choking on her tears, she managed to push out “Caught B-Bucky… our bed… Tanya.”

Natasha’s vision flashed scarlet, “WHAT!” It wasn't a question. She easily put together what Y/N witnessed that had her in such a state. Her body vibrated with rage, “I’m going to kill that bastard. I’m going to fucking murder him.” She stomped toward the door, only to turn back and envelop Y/N in her arms.

After crying for what felt like hours, Y/N finally calmed down enough to speak. “What am I supposed to do, Nat? I don't…I don’t know what to do.”

Natasha quickly messaged Tony, telling him Y/N would not be at work for a few days and that she’d explain later. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” She was taking her friend to her apartment.

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

It wasn't until later in the evening that Y/N could fully discuss what happened. She told Natasha everything that had been going on the last few months. All the signs she’d missed. The frustration over not getting pregnant, even with fertility drugs and supplements. The changes in Bucky's behavior, the new smell, and most devastatingly, what she walked in on that morning. How she knew the woman, met her twice before. Once when Bucky introduced them when the bitch first started. And again just a few days ago, when she was fitting her for her suit and weapons. “Now I understand why the woman smirked at me the whole time I showed her the equipment. Cause she’d been fucking my husband. I should have seen it. Shoulda known, but how could I? I never thought he could do something like this. I thought he'd never hurt me. How is this even happening?”

Natasha was in disbelief. How could Bucky do that to Y/N, and with Tanya of all people. Bucky had just signed off on her going on missions. Nat had her doubts about the woman’s capabilities in the field, but Bucky pushed for her approval. Now she knows why. So he could have a little vacation with his whore. Asshole couldn't even wait until they left, he had to defile Y/N’s bed. What an utter bastard.

Once Y/N was asleep, Natasha called Tony to fill him in. He was livid to say the least. Upon her return, Tanya would be dragged from her room, fired and banned from the property. What little good that did now. Natasha was disappointed in herself, feeling like she let Y/N down. She was an expert at reading people and never noticed anything between Bucky and the slut. She was there for practically every training session, but had no idea they were having an affair. No flirting, no glances, nothing to indicate anything was going on. They played their parts well and Natasha wanted to make them pay dearly for hurting her friend.

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

Two days later, Natasha drove her back to the house to help pack. Y/N was moving in with her until she decided her next course of action.

Y/N's emotions fell somewhere between devastated and furious as she walked through her home collecting her belongings. She wanted to scream, cry, smash everything in her path. The boxes she had were barely filled, the act itself causing her to feel ill. It felt like she was tearing her home apart. But she wasn't the one that did that, he did. She just had to clean up the mess.

When it was time to go through the bedroom, she took Natasha with her, wanting to make it as quick as possible. While packing her clothing and jewelry, Y/N couldn’t bear to look at the bed. If she pretended it didn’t exist, it couldn’t hurt her. She avoided it until her task was finished and Nat began taking the boxes out to the car.

With a deep breath, she faced the offending object. It was just a bed, nothing monstrous about it. Y/N noticed it was freshly made, hiding any trace of the sins that happened on it. She never wanted to set something on fire so badly. How often had he done this? Why would he do this? I don't understand what I did wrong. Why doesn't he want me anymore? What made him stop loving me? When did I stop being enough?

She didn't realize she said all that aloud until Nat answered. “You did nothing wrong, Y/N. What Bucky did was cruel and selfish and there is nothing you could have done to deserve this.” She put down the last box and hugged her friend tightly. “Do you want me to kill them? I will. Just say the word. They'll never find the bodies. Or I can make them suffer. I'll happily blow out their kneecaps the moment they step off the quinjet.”

Shit, she forgot that bitch was away on a mission with Bucky. Y/N started making herself sick thinking about it. What they were doing right now thinking she didn't know. The things they did behind her back while she remained blissfully ignorant. Well she knew now, and there was no forgiving what he'd done. She couldn’t believe this was how her marriage was ending. Y/N took off her wedding rings and left them on the bed. Picking up the last box, she walked out of the house that she would never call home again.

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

It was around 2am when Y/N’s phone pinged with an incoming text message. She didn't recognize the number. Curious, she unlocked her phone to read it.

Unknown: How did you like the show?

Y/N: I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number.

Thinking that would be the end of it, Y/N put her phone down. Only to hear it ping again.

Unknown: No, I have the right number, Y/N. Lol.

Y/N: Who is this?

Unknown: Didn't Bucky and I look great together? We couldn't help partaking in our own lucky pre-mission ritual. You ran out during the best part.

It couldn't be. Why would she be texting her? Y/N's hand began to shake as more messages rolled in.

Unknown: We’re having a great time out here. I’ve been keeping your husband's cock nice and warm while he's away. He’s an amazing lover, isn't he? Always has me screaming his name.

Unknown: Nothing to say? I'm not surprised. Bucky told me how weak and clueless you were. We laugh at you a lot.

Unknown: You're so pathetic. I thought scientists were supposed to be smart. How could you not know that Bucky and I had been going at it for months.

Y/N: You’re lying.

Unknown: Am I?

Her phone started going off like mad as a barrage of video messages rolled in. She shouldn’t have played them, but the self loathing masochist in her watched every single one.

The first video was of a hotel room. Cutting to Tanya on all fours with Bucky thrusting into her. His voice audible above Tanya’s heavy breathing. “Best pussy I ever had. Gonna fuck a baby into you… I fucking love you.”

The second video was them on a date. Y/N recognized it as Pasquale’s, her favorite restaurant. The camera was placed on a restroom sink as Tanya fell to her knees and opened Bucky’s pants. “Honey, I love you, but we're gonna get caught.” She pulled out his half hard dick and began sucking on the head before letting it slide into her mouth. After a minute of watching her head bob, Bucky grabbed her hair and starting fucking her face. “Such a dirty girl… You're such a little slut for me aren’t you, Honey. Take it all. Choke on it. ”

The next video was them having sex in Y/N’s bed, the phone angle suggested it was perched on her nightstand. She could tell by the bedding that this video wasn’t recent. That duvet cover had been thrown out five weeks ago. Bucky was pounding Tanya into the mattress, her legs around his waist as she clawed his back. His voice was muffled by Tanya's neck, but Y/N could still make out the words. “Fuck you’re perfect. Going to make such beautiful babies.”

Pressing play again, there was Tanya straddling her husband in a conference room chair. The image swinging down to give a close up of his cock sliding in and out of her as she rode him. Once again Bucky’s voice was heard “This is so wrong, doing this here… don't you dare stop…” Suddenly he had her on the table kissing her as his hips slowed. Tanya asked him if he’d still want her when she’s big and pregnant. “Of course, I’ll want you. I’ll always want you. I love you, Honey. You’re everything to me. Can't wait to see you round with my child.”

Unknown: Had enough? I have more vids. I’d hate to leave you unsatisfied.

Y/N: You’re sick. Is this a game to you? Why are you tormenting me?

Unknown: Oh sweetie, I'm just trying to enlighten you. It’s time to stop pretending. Bucky doesn't love you anymore, he loves me. I'm who he wants. And I want him. When a man like that asks you to be the mother of his children, you don't say no.

Unknown: How funny would it be if we made a baby in YOUR marital bed. LMAO.

Unknown: Your marriage is a sham, Y/N. He's only still with you cause he feels sorry for you. Why don’t you save him the trouble and just leave before we return. He doesn't need a barren nerd like you around. And don't worry, Bucky won’t miss you. Just like he doesn't now. Not when he has me.

Y/N turned her phone off. Her thoughts running a mile a minute. The things she saw branding themselves in her memory. That's why he'd been turning her away. That’s why he cheated. She had her answers. She wished she could rewind time and never answer the damn phone. Y/N sat up all night, feeling hollow and useless. She wouldn’t be sleeping for a long time.

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

The next morning she told Natasha what she learned. How the affair had been going on for months and why Bucky was moving on without her. “I know why he did it, why Bucky cheated on me. It’s because I couldn't give him the family he wanted. So he made a backup plan. He found someone else to love. Someone else to have his children, because his barren wife couldn't do it,” her voice dripped with contempt for herself. “That woman would only have known I was having trouble conceiving if he told her.”

Natasha was in disbelief at her friend's words. “That’s no excuse, Y/N. You were still a family without kids. He should have talked to you. There is no reason to do what he did. None.”

“I..I think I hate him.” Y/N wiped the tears from her eyes. “I didn't think that was possible. To go from loving him so much I’d do anything for him. To never wanting to see him again.”

“You don't have to. I’ll make sure of it.”

Y/N sighed, “I do though. I have to confront him. I need to hear him admit it. I want him to say it to my face that we’re over.”

Chapter 3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut

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sanerontheinside · 7 years

Text

also that feel when you’re apparently writing an interview/news article with your oc? wuuuut?

In the shadowy labyrinthine depths of the Judicial building, the main branch of Coruscant Security Forces makes its home. Presumably, somewhere at the heart of this convoluted structure that rivals the Senate Dome itself, sits a being possessed of immense power and influence: a near-mythical entity, known simply as ‘The Director’.

Or so the Holonet would have us believe. The Director, as described by these intrepid analysts, is an entity of expansive influence. They can alter the ranking of search results, cherry-pick the truths they wish the public to know while burying the inconvenient ledes. Ostensibly, they are involved in coordinating the high-priority security details that guard the Senators and the Chancellor of our Republic. Our entire political system is at their mercy. Should they choose to dismantle our democracy, they have but to look the other way while the sharpshooter takes his mark.

It has long been a subject of speculation in the journalistic community whether or not such a figure existed, or indeed, could possibly exist, and whether they could truly be as effective as Holonet conspiracy theorists assure us they must be. Indeed, it is a question nearly as old as the profession itself: ‘Is the Chancellor truly in control, or is there a shadow government that can stand in his way, picking and choosing which of his reforms will stand and which are doomed to failure?’

This is, without doubt, the true White Gundark of journalism. Often, esteemed members of the profession regard it with a dismissive glance. Why go looking for such an influence, when the donors who pay the way for our Senators’ elections are shadow government enough? In the midst of the Separatist Crisis and the threat of secession, it appears the donors’ influence is far more limited than we’d originally thought. Perhaps this, more than anything else, has renewed speculation and reignited in the hunt for the mythical White Gundark.

The Director of Coruscant Security Forces herself appeared faintly amused by all this speculation. “I suppose it must be nice, even therapeutic, to imagine that someone has control over that august body [the Senate],” she remarked. “They must be a truly extraordinary person, whoever they are.”

Indeed, Director Bin’ am-Bin does not seem at all extraordinary, on the surface. If you were to pass her in the street up until only a week ago, you wouldn't dream that such a person could have any real influence on our politics. She is not very tall, walks with a faintly uneven gait that betrays an old injury, speaks softly and seems inclined to stay out of everyone's way.

Yet she has a wickedly humourous streak, and is more than happy to indulge in the occasional debate over the veracity of some conspiracy theory. Director am-Bin dismisses the rumoured extent of her influence out of hand, as unfair inflation of her power.

“That is a gross exaggeration,” she says, laughing. “I almost wish I were capable of such a thing. To rearrange the Holonet search engines’ responses? It took years to develop and perfect those algorithms.”

“But it is not impossible,” I asked.

“No,” am-Bin allowed graciously, “but hardly ethical.”

Director am-Bin’s take on ethics is a fascinating study in flexibility of the mind. Admittedly, her own ethics are clear-cut and absolutely unassailable. It’s the exceptions we all find so difficult to handle.

There has been a recent rise in public outrage over the galactic monitoring program, OberVine, that sifts through enormous piles of data in search of certain flagged keywords or phrases. The flagged terms are generally related to missions and operations CSF has record of. Some of them are submitted by systems throughout the galaxy, with a request for CSF’s assistance.

“Of course, the monitoring program has been active since before my induction to any sort of position in CSF,” Bin’ pointed out.

Indeed, by her direction I was able to locate blatant mentions of the program in old court files. “But one would only be able to find these if they knew where to look.”

Bin’ agreed. “Yes. That is also an example of what I mean, when I say there is privacy in volume.”

“But you could as soon hire a droid to sift through all of that information,” I pressed.

“We could. But what, in truth, is the difference between a droid and a supercomputer? Only that a droid can presumably talk back and carry a report outside the walls of the Judicial building. Perhaps people are afraid that droid could take the information to someone not cleared to have access to it, someone who was able to slice into our system and procure it. The security risk attached to someone hard-tapping a branch of our data processing unit, which is fed by a different generator and a private server, is significantly lesser than the security risk inherent in tracking down roving droid units. Moreover, we make every best effort to ensure that the most gifted slicers work for us,” Bin’ adds with a smile.

#details of operations/programs not entirely clear and subject to expansion #the frankenau #all my oc's are damn chatty btw #literally monologue like shakespeare never went out of style #also he never did but like #I do recall this one time I killed an oc and it took him 2 pages to die or smth #and I was accused of writing a 'Shakespearean Death Scene'#idk if flattered or offended but it didn't sound complimentary?#*shrugs*#fuck that guy I guess idk

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teenwolffan-with-nolife · 3 years

Text

A Thousand Times

Word Count: 1,349

Characters: Theo Raeken, OC Hunters, Scott McCall (brief), Stiles Stilinski (brief), Reader

Pairings: Theo Raeken x Reader (gender!neutral)

Warnings: angst, v v small fluff, death

A/N: literally one fic left then back to a normal posting schedule 😭 idk why this was stressful for me but oh well

A/N 2: gif from google

Masterlist

“I just don’t understand! Why do you have to keep things from me?”

“Just because we’re together doesn't mean I have to tell you everything, Theo! I have a right to my privacy!”

“I tell you everything.”

“That’s your choice, I barely tell you anything, it’s not my fault you haven't noticed until now.”

“Do you just not trust me or something?”

“Trust has nothing to do with this!”

You recalled your fight with Theo as you sighed, slightly frustrated before resting your head against the steering wheel.

It had been only a day since you saw Theo, your chest felt empty and sad without him. You knew what you needed to do, however.

You were parked outside an old house, to anyone who glanced at it would assume it to be abandoned, but inside was a group of hunters, all who had made a plan to go after Theo, to kill him.

Not that it was completely undeserving, as much as you loved Theo, he did have many faults, but the good always outshone the bad in your eyes.

He thought you were hiding something from him, all you wanted was to keep him safe, and here you were, doing exactly that.

You saw the lights turn off in the house before you took a deep breath, your eyes glowing yellow.

You can do this

For Theo

---

“Is (Y/N) not here yet?” Theo looked up, shaking his head as Scott walked to him.

“I wouldn't expect them to come,” Theo replied.

“Well, why not?” Stiles asked.

“We got in a fight,” the pack groaned in annoyance, while Theo frowned.

“(Y/N) can’t miss pack meetings because you two aren't getting along. Call them,” Scott said.

“They’re not gonna pick up,” Theo said.

“Just do it,” Theo sighed before nodding, dialing your number.

---

You stayed quiet, hiding behind some trees. You tried to slow your breathing, keeping it quiet.

Hunters were never unprepared, it seemed. From the second you struck, it was a fight for your life.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, feeling your heart drop before hearing your ringer go off.

Fuck

You shut your phone off, powering it down all the way before looking anxiously around, feeling your heart rate increase.

There was no way a hunter didn't hear you.

You regretted walking into this unprepared, you should've come up with a plan.

“We can hear you,” you put your hand over your mouth to silence your breathing, closing your eyes tightly.

There were at least 5 hunters. They were all around you, there was no use hiding anymore.

Be strong

If you were to die, it wouldn't be cowering behind trees, it would be fighting for the boy you loved more than anything in the world.

You let out a sharp exhale, your eyes glowing yellow as your fangs emerged from your gums. You let out a soft growl, pushing yourself away from the tree.

You can do this

---

“Told you. Look, I’m gonna make up with them anyways. Can we just get on with the meeting now?” Theo began to get slightly frustrated, something felt wrong.

If you ever declined his call, you would send him a text right after, alerting him that you weren't talking to him. But this time, you didn’t.

Theo didn't want to alarm the pack, instead, he pretended to shake it off, while the nervousness grew in his chest.

He needed the meeting to finish so that he could go out to look for you.

---

You felt the bullet shoot through your stomach as you fell onto the floor, groaning slightly. You could feel a burning sensation, seeing a purple mist coming out of the wound.

Wolfsbane

You tried to stand, using the tree behind you as support before hearing someone cock their gun.

“We’re not done with you yet!” your heart dropped as the hunter’s loud voice overfilled your ears.

You winced, your stomach burning as you put your hand over the wound, taking a shaky breath.

You needed to get the bullet out, but you couldn't, not there with all the hunters around.

It was time to give up, it was time to retreat.

You realize your car was all the way across from your current location, it would take you longer to get to the car than it would to run away.

You pressed your hand onto your wound, digging your nails into your palm before pushing yourself up, running away.

You could hear the gunshots from behind you, close to hitting you, yet missing.

You looked back for a second as you ran, before losing your balance, tripping over something.

You let out a small cry, your vision blurring as the pain spread throughout your body.

You dragged yourself to a tree next to you, pulling yourself up before making your way once again.

---

You lost more and more blood, finally crashing somewhere with a more public view, although there was no one else around, at least you weren't in the woods anymore.

Theo walked out of Scott’s house, keeping his head down as he sighed to himself.

You recognized his breathing and his heart rate as you felt your throat tighten.

“Theo,” you couldn't tell if he heard you or not, you lost all strength, laying on the floor.

Theo’s head shot up, hearing your voice as he inhaled, smelling blood. He could smell your blood, running as he followed the scent.

“(Y/N)...” his face dropped as he ran to you, lifting up your head as his eyes watered.

“H-Hey,” you let out a small laugh, before wincing.

“What happened to you? Y-You…” he couldn't find the words, looking down at you in horror as he pulled you up, trying to heal you.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled.

“You don't have anything to be sorry for. Let me heal you,” his hands were shaking, seeing your blood on them before he held your arm, taking a deep breath.

“Come on!” he yelled, before seeing black veins appear on his arms.

You felt the pain slowly ebbing away, as you sniffled.

“I-I heard a group of hunters, they wanted to kill you. I’m sorry I acted like… I trust you,” Theo shook his head, shushing you.

“Stop saying all of that. It’s working, I’m healing you. You’ll be okay in a minute,” Theo’s voice broke, as you shook your head.

“I didn't want anyone else to die for this,” you sniffled.

“(Y/N)...” you let out a breath of relief, feeling most of the blood gone from your body.

The black veins disappeared from Theo’s arms, as he clenched his jaw.

“N-No,” he held your hand again, gripping onto you tighter as a tear slipped down his face.

“Why can’t I heal you anymore?!” he yelled out.

The blood dripping from your wound began to thin out, less and less coming out of you. Your vision was blurred, you could barely make out Theo’s face as your heart dropped.

“That’s because it doesn't hurt,” you cried softly.

“W-We can get you some help, we’ll take you to the hospital, you’ll be okay,” you could hear Theo begin to stutter, feeling your heart aching.

You remembered the only times he stuttered was when he was truly scared.

“It’s too late,” you shook your head.

“No, it's not. Why are you giving up?” Theo reached for his phone before you gently shook your head.

“I’d die a thousand times for you,” you said quietly.

Theo froze, looking down at you as he sniffled.

“I don't want to do this without you,” he cried.

Your hand was shaking as you reached up, stroking his cheek.

“I love you,” you whispered.

You blinked back your tears, while Theo stroked your cheek, looking down at you.

“I love you too,” he replied.

Your tears slipped down your cheek as you exhaled softly, closing your eyes.

“(Y/N)-”

Your hand fell from Theo’s cheek, as he felt your body fall limp in his arms. More tears rushed to his eyes, as he looked down at you.

“(Y/N)?”

Taglist:

@sonnydoesrandomshit

@aprilfire18

@confuscita

@teen-wolf-obsessed4life

@eunoia-kth

@shortimaginewriter

@linkpk88

@noncannonships

#teen wolf #teen wolf text #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf angst #teen wolf death #theo #theo raeken #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken angst #theo raeken fluff #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken one-shot

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary: This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

********

The paper sliced across the skin before any action could be taken to avoid it. A high pitched hiss followed by a short whine. The flap of skin that had been separated was being dyed red.

Gwen stuck her index finger in her mouth to sooth the stinging. It helped a little bit. Still sucking on the appendage, Gwen stumbled over to the supply closet and opened the thin metal doors with the other hand. She kept this feat up as she opened the first aid kit and pushed around the different types of bandages, trying to decide which one to use. The cut was right on the tip, right where you never want it to be. It was hard to get a band aid on that kind of cut. Eventually, she found a smaller version of a standard design and ripped the paper covering opening. She wrapped the band aid around her index finger before heading for her desk. It was back to the files that had injured her in the first place.

The pile was tall; by her standards, at least. Gwen had been dealing with it for the past hour. The dates on the files needed sorting, separating the ones could be sent to long-term storage. She almost gave out another whine, but she didn’t want the others to hear and start the relentless teasing. Her coworkers were quick and very witty.

It was a friendly floor. Everyone joked and played around without the fear of feelings being hurt. If Gwen didn’t have to do the actual work that came with the office space, she wouldn’t mind staying here forever. But dealing with these files and demanding customers and meeting quotas was not what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Not that Gwen knew exactly what it was that she did want to do. She’d tried a lot of things over the last few years in her slow going college years. Marketing, history, education - hell, she even took several makeup courses and skincare lessons that focused on natural resources. None of it stuck, none of it held her interest, though the information could be recalled if needed.

“You alright there, Gwen?”

Drudging up from the bowels of her thoughts, Gwen looked up at Kimberly, who had stopped at her desk on the way back from the printer.

“Yeah,” Gwen nodded with a sigh. “Just… ready for the week to be over.”

“Ain’t that the consensus,” Kimberly laughed.

“How are the dogs?” Gwen was seizing the opportunity to distract herself from work. Kimberly owned two dogs with opposite personalities. One was the well-mannered older brother, the other was the skittish, hyper younger brother. She loved to talk about them and there was never a shortage of entertaining stories.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Kurt is back to back to demanding his breakfast at five a.m. Oh, but Kent now does this thing where he walks backwards. Whenever he starts doing that, we’ll beep at him. You know, like the garbage trucks? Then he gets all shy and hides his head.”

Gwen couldn’t stop giggling at the thought. “Oh, the poor thing!”

“You’ll have to see it next time you come over.”

“I can’t wait.”

As Kimberly walked away, Gwen sighed. She didn’t get out too much and the humor that most of her socializing outside of work was with one of her coworkers wasn’t lost on her. Just another dart to throw at the board that was Gwen Sinclair.

It wasn’t like her life was a complete disaster. Really, it could have been worse. She could imagine a thousand different scenarios that she could be living right now that were worse off then her current situation. Truthfully, if glanced at from the outside, Gwen’s life was simply... mediocre. She was blessed with tolerable roommates, an okay job that provided a nice paycheck for a twenty-three-year-old who had yet to finish college. But… the loneliness was killing her and overall, she was craving for something more.

She was exhausted from obligation and responsibility. She wished to go back to the days where she read about adventure and intrigue and imagined some day living that out herself. After having those words in her hands, she felt empty in her reality. Somehow, each day felt even more draining.

With the end of another workday, Gwen packed up the files that still needed to be sorted, locked up her cabinets and tugged on her coat as she waved goodbye to Kimberly and the others. A few other coworkers were chatting excitedly about the solar eclipse happening in a few minutes. Gwen, however, was annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that all anyone - online or in person - could talk about was the solar eclipse, as if it was the only one that had ever been seen in this generation. When one person mentioned the eclipse, it was fine. When it was every post and every comment and every conversation, it felt a little ridiculous. Gwen couldn’t care less about the event. Getting home was her current priority. But escaping wasn’t that easy.

For the millionth time, Gwen rolled her eyes as she scrolled through the newsfeed, waiting for her car to warm up in the parking garage. The weather was cold and dreary, slowing down her progress on getting home. Puffs of steam escaped her lips in the below freezing temperature. Other employees hurried past the back of her car to get to their own tiny sanctuaries. An alert for a new email popped up at the top of the phone screen. From the quick scan of the notification, she saw that it was from her eastern history professor. He wanted to go over the latest paper from class. Oh, no. That was never a good sign.

Gwen huffed, threw her car into reverse, and pulled out of the parking space. First the papercut, now this.

Since all her classes were online, Gwen had the minor luxury to not be forced to talk to her professor face to face, which surely would have been humiliating. But it couldn’t be avoided completely. She’d email him back once she arrived home. Or maybe she’d put it off until tomorrow. Dealing with this was the last thing she wanted to do. Stress was already causing her skin to revert back to puberty, she didn’t need this as well.

Her phone rang and she struggled to answer it while carefully winding down the levels of the garage. It was Jaynie, the favorite of the roommates.

“Hey, Janie, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just wondering if you were coming straight home today.”

Gwen smirked, knowing exactly where this was going.

Over the past several months, a bit of an obsession had developed with Korean dramas. The shows the two of them consumed were different from the same old, boring American television and there were years worth of stories to choose from. Currently, they were in the middle of another romantic comedy. While Gwen loved the storyline and was in a constant state of swoon, as soon as the credits started rolling, she was reminded how pathetically uninteresting her life was. But those sixty plus minutes of pure escapism made it all worth the crash that came afterwards.

Gwen tried to wait patiently in the line to leave the parking garage, but her frustration was getting the better of her. It was stop and go, stop and go, stop and go.

“I’m planning on it. That is, if people decide any day now to not drive idiotically.”

“Ugh, I had the same problem on my way home.”

Curious. Both of them worked in the downtown area. “How did you get home so fast?” Gwen asked.

“I got off a little early today.”

“Lucky.” Her accounting job often led to flexible hours. Gwen was jealous of that level of freedom.

The road was slick from the freezing rain. Weather like this brought out all the stupid drivers as if this wasn’t a yearly occurrence. She was careful to look both ways before exiting the garage and inching into the street. What she didn’t account for was the other emptying lot across the street. A large black SUV pulled out right at the same time, but went too fast, hitting the water that was slowly turning to ice on the asphalt.

With no time to react, the SUV slammed into the side of Gwen’s compact car. Glass from the driver’s side window shattered and sprayed her face. Her phone flew out of her hand. The crunch of metal hit her ears before she could fully process what had happened. With the force of the collision, her forehead slammed against the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. The sound of screams echoed around her, but the words were unintelligible. Slumped over in her seat, a shadow creeped over the scene. Through the slits of her barely open eyes, Gwen watched as the sun disappeared behind the moon. Then all went black.

********

The water was what brought her back. It filled her lungs and surrounded her on all sides. She flailed her limbs, desperate for traction that couldn’t be found. Her clothing weighed her down, the hems being pulled as if hands had gripped tight on them. She needed a miracle. And a miracle she got. Two hands held onto one of her wrists and pulled her to the surface.

She gasped for air as her rescuer struggled to bring her to shore. The cloth that covered her felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, making it nearly impossible to move. Water made its way up her throat, spilling over her lips. Her lungs were finally clear. They took in as much oxygen as they were allowed, burning with each brath.

“Lady Gwen! Lady Gwen!”

A young girl blocked out the bright sun. She shook Gwen’s shoulders desperately.

Gwen’s brain processed that the girl was not speaking English, but… she could understand her. The girl’s damp, dark hair was pulled into halves on either side of her face held in place by wide red straps. She looked at Gwen with deep concern, like a lifelong friend. But Gwen was sure she had never seen this girl before in her life.

“My Lady, can you hear me?” she asked frantically.

“Who are you?” Gwen finally choked out.

That made the girl pause in her panic. “What?”

Slowly regaining her strength, Gwen pushed herself up to her knees. As her eyesight cleared, she took in her surroundings. Gone were the tall metal and glass buildings, traffic lights, and speeding cars of her modern home. Now all that surrounded her were trees and a sandy beach of a large, calm lake. In the distance, wooden houses with curved rooftops, painted in bright reds and greens dotted the horizon. The heaviness that weighed her down was a dress made of too many layers and of no western fashion that she’d ever experienced before.

Whispers bounced around the rocky shore. All the faces that were looking on with concern around were unfamiliar. Gwen grabbed the hair cascading down her back, but it was still the red she knew, darker from the dampness of being pulled out of the water but still her hair.

“Where am I?” she asked in a quiet, gasping voice.

“My Lady, don’t you remember?” The girl panicked. “You’re in Songak. Goryeo.”

“Goryeo?” Gwen screeched. All the minor details she could summon up of the country came rushing to the forefront of her mind. It was information overload and her brain couldn’t handle it. Her lungs tried desperately to keep up, breathing in as much air as they could, but her throat was closing up from the panic. The landscape blurred and she fell to the ground.

********

She was in a bed this time when she regained consciousness. The room was cold and dimly lit with soft, orange candlelight. A man, Caucasian unlike the others, sat beside the bed on a stool, worry etched into every facet of his face.

“Gwen, sweet, are you all right?”

English. He was speaking English. But that was a footnote of comfort to the bigger problem. She still didn’t know what had happened to her or how she got here or who these people were that seemed to know her. The man, who was about in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair, smiled down at her, though his eyes were confused. “Gwen, does it hurt anywhere? Can you tell me if you hit your head?”

Gwen took a moment, to calm down and to evaluate what she was feeling physically. Her head didn’t hurt, nor did any other part of her body. Wordlessly, she shook her head. The man seemed relieved.

“Are you all right?” He asked again, a different meaning under the question this time. “Chae Ryung said you couldn’t remember her or that we were in Goryeo? Do you at least remember your papa?”

Gwen weighed the choices in her mind. There wasn’t a mirror around, but she started to wonder if she had taken the place of someone else. Someone who knew these strangers. She could say that she didn’t know any of them - the truth - but would they think her mad if she spilled too much? Perhaps she could say she remembered a few things. Like him, if he is this poor girl’s father. Why am I here? In this time?

Choosing to comprise with herself, she gave the smallest of nods. “Papa.” Sitting up, she pulled him into a hug and there was something comforting about his embrace. This body remembered him, at least.

“What happened?” she asked after she let go.

“Chae Ryung said that you’d wandered off again and she found you, you’d been the water a long time.” The man, Papa, sucked in a breath, his eyes beginning to water. His genuine concern over her wellbeing made Gwen choke up as well. “The doctor said you stopped breathing. That could explain your lost memories.”

Good. The excuse was already in her hands. That should make it easy enough to play along while being forgiven for any missteps. But they shouldn’t be in Goryeo. That didn’t make any sense, historically. If anything, they might have been in Joseon – late Joseon. Was this some sort of alternate timeline? Or maybe she hit her head really hard in the car crash and this is really all a dream from the stress of her paper and too much K-drama.

Yes. Too much K-drama.

That had to be the explanation. This was all a strange dream. Which meant, she could play along and not be afraid. She could ask questions and live out the day until she woke back up in her own time, most likely in a hospital with a bandage on her head and her mother fretting over her.

She glanced around the room, taking in the architecture that she had only ever seen in pictures. In person, it was even more stunning and intricate. This wasn’t an ordinary citizen’s home. Interesting. What else could her brain come up with? “Why are we in Goryeo?”

“Your father’s a merchant, remember?” He spoke slowly. Each word was deliberate, giving Gwen time to process. Good filler for her mind. “I made a large fortune here and planned on taking you back home, but… your mother is buried here. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

A wave of emotion hit out of nowhere. Though her mother was alive and well, it didn’t stop a tear from escaping. “Mama.”

Papa wiped it away with a coarse finger. Gwen gasped back, surprised by the realness of the touch. Her dreams were never this intricate. The blanket strone across her lap scrunched in her fingers. It was cold and soft… and very real.

She wasn't dreaming, was she?

Confused by her reaction, Papa paused for a moment before continuing his explanation. “The eighth prince is graciously letting us stay with him while we wait on the construction of our home to be complete.”

The eighth prince?

Panic grew tenfold. If this wasn’t a dream, then she was in very big trouble. If history told her one thing, it was that proximity to royalty was the most dangerous place to be. Gwen might possibly have been able to skate by if they were simply staying in some unknown village far from the capital, but they were in a prince’s home. Which meant they were in… Songak, the capital city, just like that girl – Chae Ryung – had said. Right under the King’s nose. Breathing became difficult again. Each one was shallow, barely letting in any oxygen. Gwen could feel her chest tighten and her vision blurred.

“Gwen!” Papa jumped up and tried to keep her straight to give her lungs as much room as possible. He switched to Korean as he called out over his shoulder, “Someone, get the doctor! Now!” Shuffling sounds echoed off the floor on the other side of the sliding door and then faded away.

A minute later, breathing no better, two men and a woman rushed inside along with Chae Ryung. The older man stepped in front of Papa and took his place. He pushed Gwen’s shoulders gently until she was lying down. Two cold fingers against her wrist checked her pulse. The other, much younger man stepped up to Papa.

“What happened?”

Papa frowned. “It seems she’s lost some of her memories. I was explaining why we were here when suddenly she had trouble breathing.” He stopped, struggling with his own breath. “I’m sorry we’ve become a burden to you, Your Highness.”

Gwen’s breathing was regaining strength and she was able to concentrate on the conversation. So that was the eighth prince. He was younger than she would have guessed, handsome even, if she had to focus on something other than her lack of breath.

“Do not think such a thing,” the Eighth Prince replied. “Your presence has greatly improved the household. Lady Gwen will get better with time.”

Papa bowed, obviously grateful at the response. He turned to the woman. “Lady Hae, may I enquire after your own health?”

“Today is a better day,” she smiled, though her pale, drained complexion said otherwise. “Please, don’t worry about me. Keep your thoughts for your daughter.”

The doctor released Gwen’s wrist, satisfied with the improvement of her pulse and breathing. He stood up.

“It was a mild panic attack,” the doctor said calmly to Papa. “If it happens again, she should lie down and focus on her breathing. The incident at the lake seems to have taken a toll on her body. She simply needs rest. In time, her memories and her body will recover.”

Gwen didn’t agree with that statement fully. This body might get better in time, but there was no way memories that didn’t exist would ever return. One by one, the occupants left the room until it was only Gwen and Papa remaining behind. Silence hung in the air. After a moment, Papa sat down on the stool and took Gwen’s hand.

“I was worried I had lost you,” he whispered.

Gwen’s eyes fell down to the blanket covering her legs. Things were becoming clearer to her now. This was not a dream and she was no longer Gwen Sinclair from the twenty-first century. Something must have happened. She didn’t know what exactly had occurred or what would happen now, but she was here. And little did this man – known only to her as “Papa” – know that he had indeed lost his daughter. The face may be the same, but the Gwen inside was different. She would try her best to be good to him, at least until she found a way to get back to her own family. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

********

The next morning, the doctor, along with the Eighth Prince, came back to check on Gwen. The doctor commented that her pulse was stronger and that she seemed well on the road to full health. However, he still insisted on keeping her on bedrest.

Bored with these same walls and too curious about her temporary home, Gwen sat up. If she was going to be here for a while, she might as well get to know it. “I’m fine. Please, don’t make me stay in here all day. The sun and air is good for you, isn’t it?”

The sudden rebelliousness against the doctor’s suggestion did not seem to sit well with any of them. Gwen gave Papa a pleading look. A father couldn’t resist those eyes. He sighed, turning to the doctor. “Perhaps, a little exercise in walking around the grounds would be all right?”

The doctor looked reluctant, but he agreed. “But she shouldn’t overexert herself.”

“Chae Ryung will stay with her,” the Eighth prince ordered. “If you’ll please excuse me, I must meet with my brothers.” He bowed and left, followed by the doctor.

Having heard her name from the hallway, Chae Ryung shuffled quickly inside and over to Gwen, holding out her arms for the latter to balance on as she slid off of the bed. “Are you sure you want to go outside?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes. Perhaps seeing more of this place will help jog my memory.”

Chae Ryung tilted her head. “How can your memory jog?”

Gwen snorted, both at Chae Ryung’s confusion and at herself for the slip of the modern phrase. “Sorry, I just meant, maybe my memories will come back.”

“Oh.” The look on her face was enough to make Gwen laugh again.

Gwen scolded herself internally. She had to be more careful with her words. Every step was one on thin ice. She couldn’t change who she was, not completely, but she would have to pull back. Chae Ryung, however, felt safe, like a shelter from the rain. With her, Gwen could find answers that might be dangerous to seek elsewhere. Straightening her shoulders, Gwen smiled broadly and took her newest friend’s hand. Chase Ryung grinned brightly at her and guided her out of the room.

#exo royalty au #exo royalty!au #scarlet heart au #scarlet heart ryeo #exo time travel au #exo time travel!au #exo angst #exo series #exo x oc #exo x original character #exo ot9 #Scarlet Moon

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justnerdthings · 3 years

Text

Never Again Ch.2

Female OC x Raiden/Shang Tsung (it's gonna be both)

Okay. Not much interest in the first chapter, but whatever. I like it. Shang comes in in this chapter.

“What do you mean she has been released?” Fujin asked his brother with narrowed eyes.

“She escaped the catacombs. Someone or something had destroyed them,” Raiden explained. He then sighed. “I thought she had perished, but she visited me last night.”

“She was here?” Fujin couldn’t believe what Raiden was telling him. Helena was free? This was grave news. “Have you checked in with everyone?”

Raiden nodded. “Everyone is accounted for.”

Fujin breathed a sigh of relief.

“She may not know their identities as of yet,” Raiden hoped.

“And when she does?”

Raiden took a deep breath. “Helena will use them to get what she wants.”

Fujin lifted a brow as he watched Raiden’s stoic expression. “She wants you, brother.”

Raiden’s eyes shifted to Fujin’s. He exhaled and nodded. This was a disaster. And it would only end in disaster.

“She will kill them all if it means you will give her all of eternity.” Fujin said as he stepped away and looked over the Sky Temple garden. “She threw the tournament away four-hundred years ago just to buy herself four-hundred years of you. She killed Kung Lao to make sure of it.”

Raiden’s jaw hardened. What Fujin said was true. Helena had been driven to madness with her jealousy. He just wished he’d acted sooner. Maybe it would have all been avoided. Maybe he would not have had to lock her away. But, he had needed her for the tournament. She was his second best fighter. Helena was his response to Shang Tsung. Sorcerer verses Sorceress. She evened the odds, even tilted them slightly in earthrealm’s favor. But he had forgotten what she was first…

Raiden rubbed his face as that knot of guilt twisted in his stomach again. He’d spent so much time helping Kung Lao train for his fight with Goro that he’d inadvertently neglected his love. This was all his fault. He should have never brought her into Mortal Kombat.

“We need to find her,” Raiden sighed. “Before she finds them.”

Fujin nodded. A cyclone swallowed him up as he left the garden. A crack of lightning, and Raiden had left as well.

————

Shang Tsung stood on his island, overlooking his palace. It hadn’t been used in decades. Utterly overgrown. And he... now an old man. With Shao Khan dead, he had no master to answer to and little hope of ever taking over the realms. Kotal Khan had no interest in employing the sorcerer. A shame, really. None of the realms did.

A purple glow lit up his palace’s court yard. He lifted a brow. No one was on this island except for him. Who could have caused that? Who would come here? Who could come here? Had his barrier fallen? With a snap of his armored fingers, he was transported to his court yard.

Not a soul in sight. Had he been seeing things in his old age? How annoying. He turned and walked into the palace. The place had been reclaimed by the island. It was a mess. But, nothing a little flick of his wrist couldn’t handle. The wild vines and flora slowly receded, clearing a path for him. It wasn’t long until he found himself in his own throne room. His old eyes tried to focus through the darkness.

He was being watched. Holding out a hand, a green flame lit his way as he walked towards the presence. Shang stopped in the middle of the room as he noticed the faint outline of someone sitting… on his throne. His eyes narrowed at the shadowed figure. “Who is there?” he called over, demanding an answer. “Who sits on my throne?”

A low, feminine, elegant chuckle echoed off the walls.

Shang took another step closer. The green flame in his hand grew to light up the room more. His face glew in the green flame, showing his angered annoyance, enhanced by the shadows.

“Shang Tsung…” The voice called over. “Oh, has time been cruel to you.”

The voice awakened something in Shang. The voice was familiar… but who? Enough games. He tossed his flame up. It broke apart and the smaller flames flew to several large lanterns. The room had illuminated, showing just how much plant life had moved in, and the woman in his throne.

Shang Tsung stiffened at the sight of her, but he quickly regained himself. He couldn’t show her the tension now building in his shoulders. He straightened and held his hands behind him as he made his way to her. “My dear, Helena… Has Raiden decided to let you out of your cage already?”

Her dark lips pulled into a devilish smirk. “He was just as surprised to see me as you are.”

“Oh, I doubt such a thing,” he answered, shoving his nerves deeper down, as he climbed the steps to his throne. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“This is the last place I was before being locked away… It seems only right to pick up where I left off.” She leaned back, letting her hands rest on the arms of the throne.

Shang watched her, then bowed his head slowly. She seemed quite at home on his island--on his throne. But there was no reason to fight her… yet.

“Tell me Shang Tsung,” She began, “How long has it been?”

He lifted a brow to her. “Since we last saw each other? Eight Tournaments have passed.”

“Four hundred years,” Helena calculated.

“Indeed.”

“And the current champion?”

Shang inhaled sharply, reminded of his most recent loss. “Liu Kang. One of your beloved Raiden’s fighters.”

Helena’s nails scratched along the throne’s arms, scraping off gold. Shang Tsung watched as the jagged gold ribbons fell to the floor. His eyes shifted back up to her irritated face. “Trouble in paradise, my dear?”

Her eyes cut to him. “Where can I find this Liu Kang?”

Shang’s brows rose. This was not expected. As far as he knew, Helena was still Raiden’s ally… Raiden’s answer to Shang Tsung himself. How curious. “Should you not ask your lover?”

“Raiden… My beloved… My traitorous lover…” Helena relaxed slowly. “He will not help me.”

“Why not?”

“Because he knows I will kill him just as I did with Kung Lao…”

It took Shang Tsung a moment to realize she was talking about the Great Kung Lao. “I recall Goro killing him, my dear. I think your mind has gone awry in that tomb of yours.”

“Goro may have ripped his heart out, but it was I who made it possible,” Helena corrected him. Shang’s brows knotted at her. “I poisoned Kung Lao before the fight. The man loved his wuyi tea…” She said as she leaned on her elbow, hand supporting her chin.

Shang Tsung held back his surprise. So he owed his victory that day to Helena. But why? He stepped closer, non-threatening in his demeanor, and rested an old hand on the arm of his throne to lean against it. “Your actions caused Earthrealm to lose the tournament,” he pointed out.

“Yes. Raiden and I could have had four hundred years together before having to worry about winning the tournament.”

“And how did that work out for you, my dear?” He pressed. Her eyes shot back at him with his slight against her. As sharp as her eyes were, he did not seem phased by them. He just stared at her, expecting an answer.

Helena let out a defeated sigh as she looked away from him again. “I did not count on him reacting as he did.”

“Chaining you to a wall decorated with the dead?” He asked. Her eyes flinched ever so slightly. Shang nodded. He was getting under her skin. “How did you survive down there?”

“Barely,” she answered with a frown. “I fed off the life forces of the resident rats and roaches.”

“You seem to have eaten well,” he commented, then gestured with a clawed hand to herself--her body, still young and taught in all the right places. He wouldn’t lie, she had been a beauty four hundred years ago, and she looked the same now as she sat in front of him.

She turned her eyes back to him slowly. That devilish smirk of hers returned. “That silver tongue of yours still works, I see.”

He smiled and lifted his chin in a small show of pride. “Of course.” He’d noticed the slight shifting of her eyes as she searched his withered face. Yes, it was true. Shang Tsung was now an old man, soon to meet his own tomb. “Not the face you remember, my dear?” He asked.

“No,” she answered softly and reached out to let her fingers graze his wrinkled cheek. His eyes showed surprise for only a second at the gesture. Was she not afraid of him? Did she not fear his power, even in his weakened state? No. Of course she wasn’t. She could match him in any fight… Or could have as it were. Spending so long in that crypt, she may not have had the ability to continue training. She must have been rusty, surely. Living off rats and roaches certainly would not have given her enough strength. Rodents and insects would not support such strength--such beauty. There was something she hadn’t admitted. “Has your well ran dry, Shang Tsung?” she spoke, voice reaching into his very core.

His shoulders slumped just barely, but enough for Helena to notice. She grinned to him.

#Mortal Kombat #Mortal Kombat 11 #Raiden #Lord Raiden #x oc #oc x #raiden x oc #oc x raiden #fanfic #mortal kombat fanfiction #fic #fanfictions #shang tsung #oc x shang tsung #shang tsung x oc #never again

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musclesandhammering · 3 years

Text

Tagged by the lovely @alwaysnfk <3. I’m waaay late on this, but it looks interesting so I’m still gonna respond lol. (I’m in too many fandoms to name, so I’m just gonna answer some of these for my main 3- Sherlock, spn, and the mcu).

Ship Ask Game

1. First ship: probably OC/some random character. I use to be REALLY into OC stuff when I was like 13, which is ironic because now I despise self inserts and OCs with a passion.

2. First OTP: As far as I can recall, johnlock, but I’ve moved away from that. As far as my earliest OTP that I still support, that would probably be megstiel (Meg/castiel).

3. Current Favourite Ship: I haven’t been active in fandom here lately so I’m not really in the headspace for be shipping anything atm, but the last ships I remember obsessing over before I took my tumblr hiatus were Lokius (Loki/Mobius) and Calthazar (Castiel/Balthazar).

4. Your ship since the first minute: Dashingfrost (Fandral/Loki.) Always knew there was something gay going on between those two. Also frostmaster (grandmaster/Loki) and Lokius. I was shipping those before the show/movie even came out. And I was on the megstiel (Meg/Castiel) train from the first time I saw that tense holy fire situation.

5. Ships you wish had been endgame: Lokius. Hate me if you want but they did have incredible chemistry, and it felt like they could’ve been leading to something. I’m fine with them being friends though, so.. yeah. Uhm…. I deluded myself into believing Loki might go back for the cute flight attendant at the end of the series so I guess Loki/Florence (the cute flight attendant). And it would’ve been super nice if Mary hadn’t died and she and John had gotten to live happily ever after, so Warstan. Also Megstiel cause Cas and Meg deserved to be happy together.

6. Ship you wish was canon: That’s a tough one because most of my ships are so far-fetched they only work in fanfiction. I think Nebuloki (Nebula/Loki) would’ve been very cute. Hanstiel (Hannah/Castiel) had huge potential to play around with gender presentation and vessel changing, plus they were adorable together. Calthazar because Castiel and Balthazar are soulmates if I’ve ever seen them. And I wish they’d confirmed somewhere that Sherlock had some experience with males in his past, just to solidify his non-heterosexuality (so Sherlock/OMC). Also they should’ve confirmed that he and Janine really did like each other (so Janlock).

7. Ship that most of the fandom hates but you love: Adlock all the way. Also Janlock. But you know people only hate these ships because it gets in the way of their gay otp :/. Same goes for Warstan. And that could also apply to Hanstiel. Plus I love Sastiel (Sam/Castiel) and most of the fandom doesn’t like that, so yeah.

8. You don’t even watch the show but you ship it: Aziraphale/Crowley. I don’t even know how tf to spell that lmao but it only takes one glance at a still image to tell that they’re made for each other.

9. Ship you wish had a different storyline: Ummm… Steggy (Steve/Peggy) I guess? I thought they were really cute in the first cap movie, but having him go back in time to be with her in Endgame was just.. stupid. Like she already had her own family and a husband and he probably threw off the timeline by doing that and it was just a cop-out to get rid of his character and, just- ugh. I hated it. She should have just stayed in his past. He had already moved on from her (more or less) so bringing her back in at the last second was just annoying. I could also say megstiel for this one cause they killed Meg off way too early.

10. Favourite ship that’s endgame: Adlock or Pepperony (Pepper/Tony). Even though neither of these ships were technically together in the end per se, they were still together, you know? Both of them are just made for each other. I love that Pepper and Tony got to have a family for a little while, and I love that Sherlock and Irene didn’t end up being a typical cookie cutter relationship. Cause that wouldn’t have fit them. I think the long distance clandestine “meetings in High Wycombe” route was perfect for them.

11. Ship you initially didn’t think you would get into: I hated most of my ships in the beginning lol. Like I said, I was a hardcore johnlocker in the very begging so naturally I hated Irene. I wanted Castiel to be asexual really bad so I initially didn’t like Meg either. And most of my marvel ships are products of prolonged exposure lmao.

12. Ship you lost interest in: Johnlock. Originally when I first watched the show, I thought it was so obvious that they were in love and it was a total ripoff that it wasn’t made canon, but over time I started to realise how unhealthy and problematic and unnecessary that whole ship was, and how they’re genuinely only interested in each other as friends, so I’m not into it anymore.

Not tagging anyone cause I’ve been away from tumblr for so long that I can’t even think of specific names at this point. But anyone who wants to do this, please do! Tag me so I can see your answers- this is such an interesting ask thing to me!

#ask meme #ask game #ship asks #Sherlock #supernatural #spn #marvel #mcu #bbc Sherlock

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nullvoid868 · 4 years

Text

Dusty wings and sleep deprivation (G/t fluff)

This is something I wrote to try to get a feel for some new OC’s, and original content in general. its just a fluffy G/t story, with a moth based species of borrower. enjoy!

Chion’s wings twitched uselessly, unable to lift his tiny body away from the burning electric flame, the metal underneath him searing with heat. His whole body felt like it was burning into dust. The bulb began to flicker, sending out a resounding noise as it did. The entire lamp seemed to ring over and over again rhythmically.

DING-DING-DING-DING-DING

He was thrust from his nightmare by the call of the pocket watch hung on his wall. Chion thrust his sheets out of his cocoon and awkwardly flopped out, slamming his palm onto the switch to silence the alarm. Rubbing his eyes and grabbing his borrowing poncho, Chion cringed a little as he recalled that tonight he needed to collect supplies.

The LED’s in the ceiling, which Chion had hooked up to an inverted light sensor outside, had activated, draping a calm blue light over the intricate quilts and blankets that decorated his home. He took down his borrowing bag from the hook attached to the kitchen wall and fastened it to the huge button on the back of his poncho. After quickly scarfing down a cup of water he climbed down the ladder leading to the rest of the house, and once he reached the bottom, he summoned his wings and took flight.

Chion glided through the air in the humans living room, occasionally landing on a wall to rest. The eye patterns on his wings darted their pupils from side to side, just as he did his, checking to make sure there were no signs of the human. The moonlight glinted off his unkempt snow white hair as he winged his way into the kitchen. Chion landed on the edge of the pantry, a massive cereal box looming above him. The only obstacle between him and his quarry was one piece of flimsy cardboard. From his pocket he produced a small multool, whipped out the knife, and began cutting through the side of the box. After a few minutes of sawing a square shaped hole in the cardboard, he had finally reached his goal - 2 or 3 pieces of cereal were enough plant fiber to feed him for a week. Chion grabbed onto a piece and slowly pulled it out from the tightly packed box, satisfied with his mission.

It was then that chion realized his mistake.

Cereal began to pour out from the hole Chion had made in the box, the wave of oats and grains pushing him off the side of the pantry. He managed to open his wings at the last moment, saving himself from a nasty fall, but strained them in the process. He awkwardly flopped onto the growing heap of cereal, more and more falling on top of him with each passing second, clinking lightly on the kitchen's tile floor. By the time Chion summoned the energy to move he was buried under a pile of cheerios™, Kellogs cornflakes™, and other standard breakfast fare. The weight held him in place, unable to move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A strange noise coming from the kitchen broke Risa’s daze after hours of staring into the glow of his PC. It took half a minute for him to register it, and another to notice that it was now pitch dark outside his bedroom window. He was up way too late for his own good, but despite his tired state he knew he wouldn't be able to get any sleep until he found out what the noise was. Rubbing his eyes, he awkwardly stumbled out of his bedroom and towards the kitchen. Flicking on the light, he could plainly see the source of the issue. Cereal poured out onto the floor from a hole in the box, forming a pile on the tile floor. Risa picked up the box and set it on it’s side on the counter to stop the flow of cereal, and sighed as he grabbed a broom and dustpan and got to work. After a few sweeps of the broom he could see something fluffy and white poking out of the pile. Getting down on his knees, Risa scooped it into his hands to get a better look and was flabbergasted at what he saw. A small, humanoid creature with moth’s wings laid in his palm, wearing a tiny brown poncho. Its neck had a fluffy ‘collar’ around it and two antenne poked out of its head. Its wings, which a moment ago were paper white, were now bright red, and emitting a strange pulsing glow. The miniscule figure was crouched in a fetal position and shaking. Risa stared for a moment before coming to his senses.

‘W...what are you? Can you speak?’

The tiny being shivered, saying nothing for a moment, and then squeaked out a shaky ‘y...yes’

‘Please let me go, I'll leave, I promise. Please don't kill me.’

‘Wha..what? I'm not mad at you, I'm just confused. I've never seen anything like you before...’

Risa tried to carefully poke Chion to turn them over so he could see their face, but Chion flinched and jumped a bit, their dusty wings weakly flapping, trying to lift off before flopping back onto Risas palm. Their antenne twitched a bit before they froze once again, this time staring at Risa’s comparatively massive face, their tiny grey eyes overflowing with fear. Risa’s heart sunk with guilt, realizing that their thoughtless action had only scared the tiny being more.

‘Sorry.. I shouldn't have done that.’

‘......’

Risa’s words were met with only the same fearful eyes staring up into theirs, as if anticipating death at any moment.

‘I'm not going to harm you, I'm so sorry I scared you. My name is Risa, what is yours?'

‘I…’

‘...Chion’

‘Chion.. That's a pretty name. Well Chion, i'm going to put you down on the counter now, again i'm sorry I frightened you’

Chion’s wings ceased their pulsing glow, and their blood red became a little more grey. The small being shivered a bit less, yet they still peered into Risa’s eyes fearfully. Risa carefully moved her hand over to the counter, and tilted it just a bit so chion would gently slide off of it. The miniscule being fumbled a bit as they sat down on the counter, now looking at Risa with more confusion than fear.

‘You.. you're going to let me go?’

‘I'm not going to capture you or force you to stay here, if that's what you mean’

‘I..Im going to go then’

Risa felt a bit disappointed to see Chion leave so soon, she really wanted to get to know them better. But forcing them to stay and chat would certainly not make them trust her more. She watched as they fluttered off the counter and into the air, heading towards the door to the living room.

But as soon as Chion was a few inches from the kitchen counter a sharp pain shot through their body, making them lose the balance needed to fly. They had been so focused on their fear of the human that they had forgotten about spraining their wings. Chion began to plummet towards the floor below, closing their eyes tight in anticipation of the impact. They had survived being found and now they were going to die from a simple fall.

But Chion did not collide with the cold, hard tile. Instead Risa’s hands shot out to catch them, and they plopped face-first onto the warm, fleshy surface. Chion simply laid there for a minute, face pressed into Risa’s hand, tears spilling softly from their eyes.

‘Oh my god are you ok? That was close!’

‘Y..yeah’

‘...’

’Thank you. For catching me’

‘You're very welcome. I guess you should probably avoid flying for a little bit.’

‘Yeah... trying to fly again is dangerous. But I need to fly to get back home!’

‘I might be able to carry you there!’

‘Ehh…’

As much as Chion wanted to get back to their nest and lay down in their cocoon, every instinct they had shouted at them to not let the human know the location of their home. They winced a bit and shook their head.

‘Id.. rather keep the location of my burrow a secret, sorry’

‘Oh.. well i understand. You can stay with me for the night if you want, and hopefully you should be feeling good enough to fly in the morning.’

Though Chion was still frightened a bit by Risa, it was either stay with her or try to find some hole in the wall they could reach and stay in until their wings healed.

‘That.. that would be nice, yeah.’

‘Great! Ill get the supplies to try and set up a bed for you.’

‘Uh, before you do, could I get some food and water?’

‘Yes, of course!’

Risa once again sat Chion down on the countertop while she rifled through a drawer, eventually picking out a 1/8th tablespoon measuring cup. She brought it to the faucet and turned the knob ever so slightly, so only a few drops of water flowed from it. She sat the now full measuring cup down next to chion, and fished through the cereal box for a few pieces of cereal. She sat them down next to Chion as well, who was already happily slurping down the water.

‘Thank you!’

‘You're welcome!’

Risa watched as Chion happily nibbled on one of the pieces of cereal, occasionally taking another sip of water. After a while they lifted up the measuring cup to get the one last drop of water in the bottom, only for it to slide right into their face as one big drop, its surface tension breaking on impact and soaking Chion’s now rather surprised face. Risa giggled a little bit before tearing off a piece of paper towel from the nearby roll and handing it to Chion to dry off with. Chion timidly took it from Risa’s outstretched fingers and patted their face down with it before standing up.

‘Alright, I'm pretty tired. I guess take me to wherever you want me to sleep for the night’

‘Ok!’

‘Uh.. I think i'll have to carry you, if that's alright’

Risa held her palm to the edge of the counter, waiting for Chion to climb on. Chion stared at it for a while, not sure what to do. They remembered the stories they were told by the elder moths as a child before being sent out on their own. Cold nights in some abandoned wreck of a house, huddled together with other young moths, an elder reading stories of humans thoughtlessly killing borrowers who got too risky in their borrowings. Now with Risa waiting for them to step forward onto her hand, they had no idea what to think. This human, who was supposed to crush them like a bug, had now saved them twice and helped them purely out of the kindness of her heart. The logical part of their brain told them that those old stories were probably just fabricated, or worst case scenarios. Fear-Mongering meant to ensure that they stay hidden. Humans might not be so violent after all. But another part of their mind still screamed those old stories in Chion’s ear.

They shut their eyes tight, and stepped forward.

Risa watched intently as Chion stepped onto her outstretched palm, trying to keep it as still as possible. Chion carefully took another step and planted their second foot onto Risa’s palm before sitting down, still shaking a bit and eyes still clasped shut. Risa carefully moved her hand from the side of the counter to the side of her chest, cupping the tiny figure close to her. Chion took a deep breath and stopped shaking. The small moth opened their eyes, and seeing that they were safe, laid down on the palm and sighed. They were exhausted, physically and emotionally. They could faintly hear Risa’s heartbeat, and Risa’s hand was warm and soft. Chion grabbed onto Risas shirt, cuddling with the warm fabric. By the time Risa reached his bedroom he found Chion fast asleep in his palm.

Risa used his other hand to pick up a spare blanket and spread it over part of the nearby bed stand, and gently laid Chion on top of it. The tiny moth stirred a bit, but quickly drifted back into sleep. Risa picked up another, lighter blanket and laid it over chion, carefully tucking them in.

‘Sleep well, little one’

#G/t #sfw g/t #borrowers #fluff #g/t fluff

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eerythingisshaka · 4 years

Text

Wish Granted Pt. 2

[Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black OC]

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: I decided to make this a series and instead of reader, it is an original character. Strap in!

( Read Part 1 here)

That morning, Yahya and Corrine bask in the glow of the new morning sun, sharing a table by the front window enjoying eggs benedict, toast, with a stack of pancakes to share. Corrine dipped some of her bacon into the leftover egg and sauce along her plate, chasing it with the remaining orange juice in her glass. She goes to grab for more from the pitcher when Yahya’s hand surrounds hers.

“I have a flight tonight at 6,” he says.

Corrine nods slowly. “Ok.”

He looks sorry as he continues, “It got changed last minute.”

“Sure...can I ...pour my juice now?” Corrine asks, making Yahya awkwardly rest his hands on the table to allow you access to the pitcher.

“And with traffic, I should probably start getting ready to go now.”

Corrine sips her drink, wiping her mouth gingerly with the cloth napkin and sets it down. “I gave you back that ring, right?”

Yahya nods. “And your scarf is in your room at the hotel.”

“It’s not mine but...thanks.” Corrine says quietly. She pushes her fork around in the remnants of her plate, squeaking every so often against the porcelain.

Yahya leans forward. “I still want to stay in contact. Just because I live out of town doesn’t mean we can’t not see each other, you know?”

Corrine smiles with wide eyes like he just said something offensive. “If that’s what you think, that is fine. But honestly how would that work? I couldn’t keep a guy to get a proposal and I spent at least half of my 20s hanging with him. Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

Yahya sits back, looking out the window for distraction.

“I mean I am fine with a one night stand. Thank you for being what I needed at the time, it was definitely a night I will never forget but let’s not make this weird.”

Yahya sighs, looking around for presumably the waitress and pulls out his wallet. “I can’t believe you’re flipping like this.”

“It’s not a flip, just...this happens. Like, come on Yahya, we don’t know each other. Can you seriously say you want to try and make this a long term thing base don our track records?”

Yahya puts some bills on the table. “I thought you hadn’t done this before?”

Corrine shrugs. “Ok, truthfully, not since college had I done this before. Before...him,” she says with a cringe.

Yahya folds his arms across his chest looking at her with amazement. “So you really used me? I am your rebound and now you’re backing out? Or is it because I am not conveniently at your beck and call now that you’re scared to try something new?”

Corrine scoffs. “I don’t need to explain it, I made it clear. Long distance will not work. That’s it!”

“I disagree. And I want you to see that I am right and you’re wrong.”

“Yahya…”

“Corrine….” Yahya says, biting his lip playfully.

Corrine rolls her eyes, pulling out her purse to rifle through it. Not able to find a piece of paper, she takes an unused napkin and scribbles on the front with her dying pen.

“Look, I will give you my number. Do with it what you want, I’m not holding you to it though,”

She hands it to a confused look Yahya. “I could just give you my phone to put it in?”

“I’m old school. Plus, watch you accidentally use it and mess up the ink or ball it up thinking it’s trash. I wanna know you can be responsible with an important document such as that napkin with my number on it.”

Yahya looks at it, puts it down and grabs a five off of the stack of bills he had set on the table.

“Let me borrow that pen,” he asks, scribbling his number across the front of Lincoln’s face.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” Corrine asks, leaning to get a glimpse for herself before Yahya gives her the defaced bill.

“And here is my number. If your theory checks out, it shouldn’t be hard to keep up with or lose, unless you accidentally spend it on some shoes or a new purse, right?”

Corrine glares at him. “Ha Ha. Here, let me at least put some money back on this since you probably just took the girl’s tip money for this.”

Yahya waves her off. “Please, it’s still 20% without it, we good.”

Corrine folds the five up in a side pocket in her bag. “Then that’s it right?”

Yahya stares through the table, nodding blankly. When he looks at Corrine he fights a smirk.

“I really had a good time.”

“I did too.”

Yahya and Corrine step out of the restaurant, parting with one last hug as his car arrives to pick him. Corrine holds him close, smelling the fresh soap from the morning shower he took just a couple hours ago. His shoulders and back solid under her hands, she imagines if she lifts her feet, he wouldn’t bend or fold even slightly.

His hands spread along her back before sliding slowly around her waist, kissing a spot behind her ear that makes her curl back and chuckle.

“I’ll call you,” Yahya says inches from Corrine’s face as she nods. “You gonna call me?”

“When you call me, I will,” she says, putting her hand to the side of his face, trying to memorize every feature and feeling it gave her. One last kiss would make her fly in the cab with him, so she backs off, waving goodbye.

A month goes by and Corrine has finally packed up all of James’s things in two boxes. She sits on the couch staring at them sat next to her front door. His life with her fit in just two boxes? They weren’t officially living together yet but he spent so much time with her that it seemed like there would be more things. Most of it is laundry that needs washing and DVDs he brought over because he refused to buy them on digital again.

Corrine scrolls through her phone absentmindedly as she waits. A message pops up that makes her jump out of the blue.

Hey, how’s your morning beautiful?

It’s fine for now. Still waiting on him.

Don’t let him bother you. Just tell him to the left and leave!

Of course girl. Why mess with a beyonce blueprint?

Works every time! Also, don’t forget to meet us for our lunch date after.

Sounds good.

Corrine gets up to check out of her patio door and sees his car park outside. James strolls across the grass, which instinctively makes her cringe. She always told him to watch doing that so he doesn’t end up walking in dog shit.

She waits for his knock patiently, not wanting him to know she saw him already. Her phone chimes again.

Outside, it reads.

Corrine groans at the rude tone of his one word text. As she opens the door he’s leaning on the frame in a way that reminds you of one of Danny Zuko’s boys from Grease. Leather jacket on even though it's 85 degrees out, distressed blue jeans that fit snug around his lean legs with some schmegular all white Adidas.

“I already packed your stuff,” she says, walking backwards to point to the left as practiced. James takes one step in with his hands in his pockets and looks to his right at the boxes.

“I could’ve done that,” he says in a bored tone, looking back at her as if she is visiting him without notice,

“I asked you every week for the past month to come get it. You think I’m going to wait for you to poke around here and find every little thing of yours on your own? I don’t think so.”

His fingers find their way around a curl of hair in his high top fade. “What’s all this energy about though? I thought we could be cool about it?”

“Why would I be cool about anything with you after you left me by myself in the city when we were supposed to be celebrating your promotion, right? But you recall what happened instead? After 5 and a half years together?”

“I wanted to talk to you in person-”

“You hadn’t done that either for a month, have you?”

James’ jaw flies open. “Because the only thing you got to say is about picking up my stuff! You never asked to talk and you didn’t answer my calls!”

“I shouldn’t have to ask to talk! I’m not the one that said I can’t do this no more!”

“Are you sure Corrine? Cuz you never acted interested in shit with what I got to do. You don’t listen to nothing I got to say.”

Corrine scoffs loudly as James kneels to look through the boxes.

“I never helped YOU? I got you into a respectable corporate job that paid BILLS for the first time in you life when your cooking career wasn’t pulling weight like you hoped it would! Now you can earn some capital so you can open your business steadily and not fall flat on your ass! I gave you so much more mercy than you ever did for me!”

James sucks his teeth and comes to a standing, towering over Corrine. “I stood by you while you worked to do this lawyer shit you got goin on. Long nights studying in the living room, out to the library, hell week after hell week to pass your bar. I barely got a kiss from you at your celebration party. You always doin the most!”

Corrine grips her temples, completely taken back. “I can’t believe you’re saying my ambition is a reason to leave me. I can’t succeed while you’re down and out or you feel less of a man? Is that it?”

James picks up his boxes in both arms. “Shut up.” He walks out the door heading for the steps.

“No, now I got it! You want me to just stay quiet and patient while you figure things out but I couldn’t carry our relationship for you! I needed your support too, whether I am studying for hours on end or you’re taking a month long business trip, only to come back unemployed!”

James was out the door about halfway down when he looks back at her.

“You think I wouldn’t know? I got you that gig, how would I not check into it? They said you never showed up. Why?”

James looked off, sighing deeply like a load was taken off even though he was carrying two very heavy boxes.

“You had to get away for a month? What were you doing for that long that you didn’t tell me?”

James continued to not look at Corrine. His mind battling with what to say and what not to say was killing her as she looked for him to speak.

“I won’t take you back James, I just want a good excuse so I can hate you less. I thought you were going to marry me when you booked that room for us at that fancy spot. But you broke my heart so bad.”

James continued to walk down the steps without a word. Corrine watched him pack his car and turn on the engine to peel out.

“Girl, and that’s what he did?” Simone exclaimed over her half eaten salad. Her pressed hair pulled back in a bun already gave her a naturally alert look, but Corrine’s turmoil made it that much more apparent.

Corrine pushed around a meatball in her spaghetti. “That is all he did. I have no closure to it.”

Bria pats you back gingerly. “You’ll be fine and he’ll be fine. It’s just because the break up is still fresh that y’all couldn’t come to an understanding.”

Corrine sits back and shrugs. “Maybe? But that’s a big ass lie he dropped on me. He was gone for a month. He could have a whole family in another state for all I know.”

Simone points at Corrine, big brown eyes bucking. “That’s why I told you he look like Cousin Skeeter if he were a real man. He is just as goofy too. Nobody should leave for a MONTH without saying anything.”

Bria nods, adjusting her tortoise shell frames. “He is not worth a thought but you take all the time you need to get past it. Just move on. You gave him chance after chance up until the last moment. It’s time you got to breathe on your own.”

“And speaking of,” Simone lowers her voice. “You hear from our hotel daddy yet?”

“Oh God, don’t bring that up now,” Corrine whines.

“Simone!” Bria hisses. “She hasn’t heard from him yet, and honestly by now, there would be some explaining to do instead of dating.”

Corrine lays her head on the table. “Why is life so hard? I can’t have a good time with nobody!”

Simone and Bria offer pats as her tears are absorbed by the tablecloth.

“Hey, you know what? You do still have his number…”

“Simone, no. I can’t.”

“But! Instead of cutesy whats up and stuff, you can tell him off maybe? Give him the lashing every wrong you’ve received deserves. It might not be constructive but a quick shot of feel good sounds pretty good, right?”

Corrine sits up, dabbing her eyes and feeling the avalanche of snot coming to her nose. Her cries put all ugly cries to shame.

“I just...it was...he said...he’d call!” Corrine squeaks out between sobs.

One month turned into two, and so on until Corrine forgot about that night at the hotel. Busying herself with work was the best thing she could do in order to keep herself feeling good from day to day. That and happy hours with her girls who vigorously scoped men out for her as her wingwomen.

Sometimes when she is turning in for the evening, she picks up the base of her little desk mirror to find the $5 bill under it that Yahya scrawled his number on. The more she looked at it, she wasn’t sure if it ended in a four or a nine, so it’s probably best she kept from calling in order to not look foolish on someone’s phone.

James and her never got back with each other either. But Corrine is more ok with that. She figures whatever skeletons he has are bigger than she can manage and she deserves a break. But Yahya seemed so good and promising, she couldn’t believe she got bamboozled that hard. He could’ve left that morning, allowing her to sleep away the future but he gave her hope instead and that got snatched away.

So Corrine filled her days digging into practicing law and running errands and not much in between. But she was ok. Without the extra baggage of men in her life she felt as if she might’ve unlocked a new level in life.

---

“As you all know, the construction on the new building is being negotiated with several architects in order to get a broad scope of what design would fit the future of our practice the best for years to come. Let me remind you all that if it weren’t for your dedication to your work around here that we would not be one of the most sought after and winningest law office in the state.”

Applause fills the conference room for Hogel of Garrett, Hogel & Truman as Corrine takes notes on the meetings main points. Most of the meetings are supplied with a bullet list of the main topics, but she does not enjoy just sitting and staring or she is liable to daydream.

When the meeting comes to a close, it is close enough to the evening and the weekend that she hopes will allow her to get off early and head straight for bed. Her feet kill her in the stiff three inch pumps she wears for ten hours straight, and her local Chinese spot was calling her name for some springfield chicken.

When she makes it back to her desk, her heart flips with joy as she sees no new files to review and archive, and since she got ahead of her projects for the week, it seems the weekend has finally begun.

She kicks off her heels to slide into her worn in athletic shoes, feeling her feet melt into the dips that the insole has created to mold to her feet. Her heart beats in the bottoms of her foot from being released from their patent leather binding which is both uncomfortable and satisfying. But even if they were chopped off at the shin, these feet would lead her to her car and get her to her home paradise.

Corrine walks down the hall to the elevators, hearing noises from people as she gets close. She feels a little anxious, preferring an empty elevator at her departure time but is willing to deal so that the exit is quicker.

As the group of voices rounds a corner leading away from her, she sees a man standing head above the whites that surround him. A navy blue suit fitting tailored to wide set shoulder funneling down to a slim but sturdy waist, made her knees buckle a moment, causing her to slow her pace forward. He walks away, laughing one of those polite laughs one gives to company they want to impress. He hits the elevator button, listening to one of the partners speak until his gaze travels over them and spots her.

She feels her brain black out and her heart fall out of her ass and flight took over in her fight or flight response.

“Corinne!” he calls after her, but she pays him no attention rounding the corner. Stairs would have to work, no matter how much her feet her from the day, anything would do over having to see him make up whatever excuse he had to not call her. And what the hell is he doing at her job? Is he a lawyer? Is he looking for counsel? What if he is a fraud that manipulates women and sues them for some old timey bullshit laws like alienation of affection.

She thanked God that coincidence didn’t find him in the parking garage as Corrine finally made it home but settled on some leftovers she had in the fridge instead of her beloved Chinese food. At this point she still hadn’t calmed down from earlier. What if he is at the Chinese place? Where the hell does he live anyway? To be in the same area as her work, he couldn’t be far. She couldn’t remember where he said he was from, if they even covered that much information but she was not going to entertain his presence, he is a ghost to her.

In her bedroom she takes the five and slips it in her purse to make sure she spends the bill, like it's the reason he is back. She will have to treat him like a ghost. He won’t know she ever waited for him or thought about him after that night.

#shakafic #yahya abdul mateen ii fic #wish granted

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ivarthebadbitch · 4 years

Text

Strange things can happen

Chapter 3 summary: Ecbert has some advice for the newlyweds on the morning after. Ragnar makes an important announcement.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2]

On Ao3: [1] [2]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 1755

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman (let me know if you’d like to be tagged)

CHAPTER 3: You never know with Saxon women

Ecbert’s head hurt, but it was nothing that a little wine with breakfast couldn’t fix. The evening had been something of a blur after they had put the newlyweds to bed: all he could really be certain of was that Ragnar had taught him some sort of dirty song in his language, and that he had lost a shoe at some point, so on the whole he had to consider the night a success. Though he did need to confirm one thing to truly count it as a success.

“I do hope that Aldreda and Ivar will be here before their breakfast gets cold,” he remarked to his son, who had been quietly eating his porridge. “However...that may be a good sign. It is unusual for a newly married couple to conceive on their first night together, but—” he nodded at Ragnar on the other side of the table, who also seemed a bit hungover—“as we all know, Ivar comes from fertile stock, so I would say that the chances are higher than normal. Wouldn’t you agree, Aethelwulf?”

If it was possible to stir porridge in a resentful manner, then Aethelwulf had surely mastered it. “I suppose so,” he said reluctantly. He looked over at Aethelred and Alfred, desperately searching for a different subject. “Alfred, don’t push your porridge to the sides of the bowl. You aren’t fooling anyone and you’ll just be hungry later.”

“Sorry, Father,” Alfred said. He still did not eat his porridge. He stirred it. Resentfully.

“Father, before Aldreda and Ivar arrive, if I may…” Aethelwulf said in a low voice, leaning in closer to Ecbert. “I know a great deal has been invested in this marriage and...and everyone hopes it will be profitable and agreeable to all. But they are young and no doubt somewhat overwhelmed by these events, and so all I ask is that you show some tact and restraint this morning.”

“Oh, is that all?” Ecbert gave his son a reassuring smile. “I will be very circumspect, I promise you that. Ah, and here they are!”

Aldreda came in first, followed by Ivar, with his arms slung over the guards’ shoulders. They deposited him on the chair next to Aldreda, directly across from Ecbert. Both of them stared intently at their porridge. Neither of them made a move to touch it.

“Please, eat,” Ecbert told them in an encouraging tone. “Both of you must have worked up an appetite by now. I do hope last night was fruitful?”

“Father,” Aethelwulf said through gritted teeth.

Aldreda gave him a pained smile before looking at Ecbert. “We...know each other somewhat better now.”

“Hm.” That did not quite sound like the resounding success Ecbert had envisioned. “In a carnal manner, I hope. There is no need to be modest; we’re all family here. Though it is also good to become better acquainted on a personal level as well.”

Aldreda turned bright red. At her side, Ivar looked like he wanted to slide under the table and disappear into a hole in the ground.

“Of course, it can be difficult to be intimate with someone you have only just met,” Ecbert acknowledged. “You will grow more comfortable with each other over time. After all, you have many things in common, such as...such as your age. Yes. The two of you are nearly the same age. And...hm.”

“Thank you for the advice, Grandfather,” Aldreda said after a moment. Nobody seemed to want to speak after that.

As the silence lengthened, Ragnar suddenly cleared his throat. “I have an announcement,” he said. “Now that my son is married and our treaty is secured, I intend to return home as soon as the weather is favorable. King Ecbert, I trust that I may have use of one of your ships?”

“Certainly,” Ecbert replied. “You are quite welcome to remain as long as you like, but I understand you must have responsibilities to attend to in Kattegat. Rest assured that Ivar will be well taken care of.”

Ivar’s head shot up, his mouth hanging open in dismay. “What are you talking about, old man?” he asked his father in Norse. “You can’t leave me here with these people!”

“Shut up,” Ragnar answered as Ecbert pretended to not understand the exchange. “We will talk about this later.”

The boy sat back in his chair with a sullen expression, and Ecbert moved to intervene. So long as Ivar was sulking and unhappy, there would be little chance that he and Aldreda would conceive an heir. “Perhaps after breakfast, you would like to join Aethelred and Alfred in the training yard?” he asked Ivar. “Ragnar tells me that you have some skill with a bow, and the boys may learn something from your technique. Unless you wish to spend the morning with your bride?”

Ivar looked up at that. “Training,” he said in English, and Ecbert thought he saw Aldreda let out a small sigh of relief. He would talk to each of them separately later, if necessary. But Aethelwulf had made reasonable points earlier that the couple had perhaps been overwhelmed by the turn of events, and Ecbert was nothing if not a reasonable man. There was still time—so long as they didn’t make him wait forever.

***

Ivar finally managed to shake off the guards after dinner. The pair had evidently been tasked with dragging him around anywhere he needed to go—as punishment for something, he assumed—but it had been getting somewhat tiresome, and at any rate, he could get around perfectly well on his own. He ignored the stares he was getting from the passing servants and nobles as he crawled down the hall and banged on Ragnar’s door until his father finally opened it and let him in.

“You can’t leave,” Ivar snapped at him the moment the door was shut.

His father raised his eyebrows. “I thought I was clear about the nature of the agreement with Ecbert,” he said as he took a seat on the floor next to Ivar. “He allowed you to marry Aldreda on the condition you live with them. Me staying was not part of that. My brother Rollo remained at the court in Paris after he married the emperor’s daughter. It is a normal arrangement.”

“I thought Rollo was a great traitor.”

“Well, yes. But my point still stands.”

Ivar’s eyes began to well up with sudden tears and he turned his head away so his father would not see. But if you leave, I’ll be all alone here. “Mother will kill you if you go back without me.”

Ragnar laughed. “I’m willing to take that risk, but I think her heart will soften once she understands the benefits of our new trade agreement,” he said. He clapped Ivar on the shoulder and leaned in close. “Your task here is simple but important. All you have to do is please your bride. I assume you can do that?”

Ivar pulled away. “What sort of an idiotic question is that?” he asked with a scowl. “Of course I can. I will...I will...give her pleasure like she’s never had before in her life at this stupid court.” Even as the words left his mouth, he could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment. How had his father failed to see through all his lies?

Rather than asking more questions about how exactly Ivar intended to achieve this, Ragnar grinned. “Excellent. Don’t tell your father-in-law, though. He is looking for an excuse to kill you.”

“Aethelwulf can go fuck himself.”

Ragnar positively beamed at him. Then he pulled out a flask, took a swig, and handed it to Ivar, who followed suit. “Well, boy, since it’s our last night together for some time, we can drink to that.”

From there, things became somewhat fuzzy. They both ended up lying on the floor at some point, with Ivar half listening as Ragnar somewhat incoherently recalled his past exploits. He had almost stopped paying attention entirely when his father suddenly said, “Oh yes, that was the time I was with your mother and Lagertha. Now that was a night worth remembering, though I think they enjoyed each other’s company more than they enjoyed mine.”

Ivar propped himself up on his elbows. “What?”

Ragnar shrugged. “Don’t look at me, it was your mother’s idea. She got Lagertha to go along with it. Lagertha would have killed me if I’d made the suggestion again.”

“Again?”

“Oh. Never mind that.” He sat up woozily, cleared his throat, and leaned closer to Ivar. “Listen, your bride must have lady friends, right? It might be worth asking. See if Aldreda would be interested. But you need to be delicate about it. You don’t want her to take it the wrong way.”

Ivar could feel his face growing hot again. “I don’t think she has lady friends. There aren’t that many women here for some reason. Just Aldreda and Aethelwulf’s wife. Some servants.”

“Oh, well, servants can be fun too, but I’m sure you know that.” Ragnar flopped back down on the floor. “You were just a child at the time, you wouldn’t remember, but there was this one slave back in Kattegat...beautiful woman, never seen anyone like her before, she was from...from...well, it doesn’t matter. But I sucked her toes once.”

Ivar stared at him. “She liked it?”

“I think so. Anyway, might be another thing to try with your wife. These Saxon women...you never know with Saxon women...”

Ivar supposed he did not know. He lay there on the floor next to Ragnar for a while, trying unsuccessfully to rid himself of the mental image of his father sucking on a woman’s toes, and then imagining what his life would look like in Wessex all by himself, surrounded by strangers. It wasn’t too late, he thought to himself. He could just tell Ragnar the truth and then Ecbert and Aethelwulf would be more than happy to be rid of him. Aldreda would certainly be thrilled to have him gone. All he had to do was swallow the humiliation of everyone knowing that, on top of everything else, he was incapable of doing a man’s duty. But at least he could go home.

“Father?” he said softly. “I need to tell you something.”

No answer. He turned his head to look. Ragnar was passed out beside him, limbs sprawled and his mouth wide open as he snored.

Great. This was just great. “Fuck you too,” Ivar sighed.

#vikings #ivar the boneless #fanfiction #fic: strange things can happen

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jeongyunhoed · 4 years

Photo

8 Stories, 8 Movies from the Golden Age (1930s to 1960s).

It’s the golden age and 8 men are the most sought-after actors in Hollywood. Ateez, but make them Old Hollywood, basically. Lights, camera, action!

Member: Yunho

Genre: Murder mystery, a little bit of comedy, a little bit of romance and fluff

Warnings: Murder (as it is a murder mystery), mentions of it including suicide, death, blackmail, alcohol drinking

Things to note: Set in the 1930s, established marriage

Will have OCs

As with the rest of the stories in the AU, there will be other idols mentioned, most likely NCT but may have some of my other faves (EXO, etc.)

Masterlist

Former private detective-turned-society man Jeong Yunho is brought back to sleuthing when an inventor goes missing and his mistress is murdered. With a little help from his wife, and from a martini or two.

The Thin Man

tag list: @minervaaaaaaaa , @closer-stars

Part 2

An hour since Sungyoung’s call and Yunho and Juhyun were at the living room, listening to the radio where the news of the murder was already being reported. Asta was curled up in the corner by the bed as Yunho made his way to the bar, mixing a cocktail again.

“And here’s the latest news in the Woo Jaekyung murder! The police have found out that the beautiful secretary was a gangster’s girl and is spreading the dragnet for one Choi Jongho said to be hiding out somewhere in the city. In Paris today the chamber of deputies-”

“Never mind the chamber of deputies. Choi Jongho, that’s what I want to know about,” Juhyun turned the radio off and sat by the phone. “I’m suddenly hungry, I’ll order some food,” She picked up the receiver. “That sounds like an interesting case. Wouldn’t you like to take it?” She glanced at her husband.

“I haven’t the time. I’m busy seeing that you don’t lose any of the money I married you for,” Yunho hiccuped, making her laugh.

Juhyun was watching him take another drink, ordering food right away when room service picked up on the other line. “Did you get any more information out of headquarters?”

“I know as much as they do,” Yunho replied. “Woo Jaekyung was shot and killed about nine or nine-thirty. Body discovered on the floor of the bedroom a little after eleven-”

“Who discovered it?” Juhyun asked.

“That would surprise you. Yang Hyomin.”

“Park Sungyoung’s mother, right? What was she doing there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where’s Park Junho?”

“Still missing,” Yunho mumbled, putting the shaker away.

“Missing? But Hongjoong was going to see him, didn’t he?” He had an appointment,” Juhyun looked surprised.

“I spoke to Hongjoong. Junho never showed up. No one knows where he is.”

“That sounds like a good case. Girl mysteriously murdered. No one knows who did it. They haven’t found any clues yet. No gun, no fingerprints,” Juhyun eyed him knowingly.

Yunho paused and gently pinched her cheek. “I don’t want to know anything else about it.”

Juhyun wrinkled her nose and laughed as she hung up, sighing. “It’s going to be pretty tough on Sungyoung, isn’t it?”

“Mm? Why?” He sat down next to her.

“It very nearly looks as if Park Junho skipped one appointment to keep another, with Woo Jaekyung,” Juhyun leaned on him.

“You think he killed her?”

“Oh, it’s just a guess. You’re the detective around here, Yuyu,” She pinched his cheek. They looked up when the doorbell suddenly rang.

“That must be Sungyoung. She said she wanted to see me,” Yunho got up from the couch and padded to the door, Asta following him close behind. As he had expected, Sungyoung was standing behind the door, looking shaken. “Come in, Sungyoung,” He stepped aside right away to let her in.

“Thank you, is anyone else here?” She was wary.

“Just Juhyun and the dog if you don’t mind,” Yunho gestured to the two of them.

“Hello Sungyoung,” Juhyun greeted her before excusing herself back into their bedroom.

“I’m sorry for breaking in on you like this at this time,” Sungyoung turned to him once Juhyun left.

“It’s alright, we’re used to it,” Yunho waved a hand dismissively. “What’s wrong?”

“Just that Woo Jaekyung is dead, and here’s the gun she was shot with,” Sungyoung took out a revolver from her purse and placed it on the coffee table.

Yunho stared at her, and then glanced at the weapon. “What are you trying to tell me, that you did it?”

“Yes,” Sungyoung replied right away. “I hated her. She-she kept me from seeing my father. I went down there to ask her where he was. She wouldn’t tell me, and I shot her.”

“Where did you shoot her?”

“I- I shot her in the heart.”

“You’re a pretty good shooter,” Yunho raised a brow. “What did she do?”

“She fell down,” Sungyoung’s eyes were welling with tears and she was finding it hard to speak.

“Did she make any sound? Didn’t scream?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Which way did she fall?”

“She-she fell over backwards,” Sungyoung was more shaken with every question.

“Oh yeah? People fall toward a shot, you know, not back from it,” Yunho stared at her. “I knew you were lying,” He wrapped an arm around Sungyoung as she broke into sobs. “Where did you get the gun?”

“I bought it in a pawnshop.”

“Is that the truth?”

“That’s the truth,” she sobbed.

Juhyun suddenly stepped out of her room. Yunho made a face upon seeing her, and she wrinkled her nose at him in return. She poured some water in a glass as she approached them, Sungyoung pulling away when she saw her. “I’m so sorry, I’m making a fool out of myself.”

“Don’t be silly, here, have some water,” Juhyun handed her the glass. “Yunho’s trying to help you, you know. You should help him too. You were trying to shield your mother, weren’t you?” She asked.

“No,” Sungyoung put the glass down, tears still streaming down her face.

“Your father?”

“Y-yes. My father.”

“Why do you think he did it?”

“Mother was the first person to find Woo Jaekyung. She found something in Jaekyung’s hand and she took it,” Sungyoung wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.

“What did she find?” Juhyun asked curiously.

“A watch chain. It was my father’s.”

“So you think your father did it.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Sungyoung looked down, wiping her face.

“Did your mother turn the chain over to the police?” Juhyun asked.

“No-no she kept it. She didn’t tell them anything about it.”

“But she showed it to you?”

Sungyoung nodded. “Why did your mother go up to Jaekyung’s apartment in the first place?” Yunho spoke this time.

“She went to ask for money.”

“Ah, money again, hmm?” Yunho and Juhyun exchanged looks. The phone rang and he picked it up. “Yes? Oh, uh, have them come up, thank you,” and he hung up.

“Who is it?” Juhyun raised a brow.

Yunho turned to Sungyoung. “I wonder if you don’t mind waiting in the bedroom?”

“Of course,” Sungyoung got up.

“There’s powder and stuff over at the dresser so you can put yourself together,” Juhyun gestured towards the door and Sungyoung went inside. Closing the door behind her, she saw the gun on the table. “Where did you get that, Yuyu?”

“She brought it in,” Yunho pointed to the door. “Trying to make me believe she did it,” He placed the gun behind the cocktail shakers.

“What are you doing to do with it?”

“Nothing. Until I find out if it’s the gun Woo Jaekyung was killed with.”

“Who’s going up here?”

“Yang Hyomin.”

“Alone?”

“She’s never alone,” Yunho shook his head in between drinking the last of the cocktail he had. “Sungyoung’s brother is with her. Screwy college kid, and some guy by the name of Jung Wooyoung.”

“Jung Wooyoung? Who’s he?” She said.

“Hongjoong told me about him. He’s a “hanger-on” type. Anyway, he’s supposedly married to Hyomin now, and I think he’s also after Hyomin’s dough-”

“But she doesn’t have any,” Juhyun looked confused.

“Maybe that’s why she wanted to get some from Jaekyung” Yunho eyed her knowingly this time. His mind was now racing about the case whether he wanted to or not, and she knew it. The doorbell rang and he approached to answer it. “Hello, Hyomin!” He greeted in an attempt to sound cheerful.

“Yunho, how are you?” Hyomin greeted him just as cheerfully as she stepped inside, followed by her son, and Wooyoung, both of whom exchanged greetings with him. Juhyun noticed that Wooyoung was looking especially wary about being here.

“Just fine, sit down, sit down, this is my wife, Juhyun, Juhyun this is everyone,” Yunho gestured to her as the three of them sat down, Wooyoung choosing to stay standing behind the couch. “So, Hyomin-”

“Yunho, I’ve never been in such a state in my life! You know of course that I was the one who found Woo Jaekyung,” Hyomin looked flustered upon recalling the events.

“So we’ve heard,” Juhyun replied.

“Oh my dear! It was terrible! When I saw the bedroom door open, there she was, lying dead on the floor.”

“I meant to ask you, mother,” Sungmin spoke. “Was there a lot of blood?”

“Sungmin, don’t be so morbid-” Hyomin shushed him.

“But I’m interested in murders,” He sat up and turned to Yunho. “You know, Mr. Jeong, I have a theory about this one already.”

“Oh really?” Yunho glanced at him.

“In my opinion, the man who did it must be a sadist or have some sort of paranoia. I’ve been studying criminology-”

“Oh, hush, Sungmin” Hyomin said dismissively.

“So, you were saying, Mrs. Park?”

“I’m Mrs. Jung now, Yunho,” Hyomin smiled. “Anyway, about finding Woo Jaekyung, I was simply petrified! Park Junho’s crazy! Absolutely crazy to stay away at a time like this. No wonder the police think he has something to do with it.”

“What do you think?”

“Oh I know he didn’t. But I wish I could find him,” Hyomin frowned. “I have something very important to tell him, and Hongjoong won’t help at all. He thinks I just want money.”

“Well don’t you?” Yunho smiled.

“Oh Yunho, you’re always teasing,” Hyomin giggled.

“Mrs. Jung, were you alone when you found Woo Jaekyung?” Juhyun asked this time.

She looked flustered. “Why- Of course I was.”

“Were you with her, Mr. Jung?” She turned to Wooyoung.

“Me? Certainly not. I don’t know anything about it. The first word I had that Woo Jaekyung was dead was when Hyomin called me at my club-”

“Oh let’s not talk about that. The thing to do is to find Junho and that’s why I came to Yunho. You will help me find Junho, won’t you?” Hyomin asked.

“Now, Hyomin, there are a thousand detectives in this city. You can hire one of them.”

“But Junho knows you. All you have to do is get in touch with him, and tell him that Hyomin says that everything is all right, but that I’ve got to see him,” She pleaded.

“I can tell you again, I don’t want any part of it,” Yunho shook his head and gestured to the bedroom door. “Now, you can take Sungyoung home and-”

Hyomin, Sungmin, and Wooyoung all looked surprised. “Sungyoung! Is she here?” She got up.

Yunho stared at her, immediately containing his surprise. “Yes…”

Hyomin stormed past both of them, the two males staying behind as Yunho and Juhyun caught up. She opened the door, slapping her daughter. “What did you tell him?! What did you tell him?!”

Yunho pulled Hyomin away while Juhyun stood by as if blocking Hyomin from getting any closer. Sungyoung was glaring at her. “She didn’t tell me anything,” He assured her.

“Too bad you didn’t bring your whip,” Juhyun was in disbelief at what she saw.

Hyomin looked flustered. “Oh-oh my, I was so excited, I didn’t know what I was doing. Come on Sungyoung, let’s go home, your brother and Wooyoung are waiting,” She said.

“She doesn’t have to go if she doesn’t want to,” Juhyun said. “You can stay here, there’s plenty of room and we’d love to have you,” She turned to Sungyoung.

“Thank you Mrs. Jeong, but I’ll go home,” Sungyoung replied.

“Hello? Is this the Hammett hotel? I want to speak with Mr. Jeong. Yes, Jeong Yunho,” A man said quietly, as if trying not to be heard by anyone around him. “Hello? Mr. Jeong? Sorry to have woken you up, but Mr. Jeong, I’d like to lay out a little proposition for you, it’s about the murder of Woo Jaekyung...What’s the difference who I am? Wait, wait, alright, I’ll tell you who I am, but you have to keep it under your hat! I’m… Kang Yeosang. Yeah, Kang Yeosang. Now listen, I know who murdered Woo Jaekyung, and I’ll spill it to you for a few million won. I’ll tell you how I know. I was outside of her apartment when she was shot. And I saw the one who did it! I’ll spill it to you- Wait, I can’t talk anymore, but I’ll call you again!” He whispered.

Yunho raised a brow. “Hello? Hello?” He put down the phone. They were back in bed, preparing to go back to sleep.

“Now what, Yuyu?” She asked.

“I don’t know, some crank I guess. He hung up. Now you better get some sleep, good night, my dear,” He tugged on her arm to make her lie down.

“Yunho,” Juhyun called out in a whisper. She still couldn’t sleep after what they found out in a matter of a few hours. “Yunho, are you asleep?” She said.

“Yes,” He replied, covering his face with the pillow.

“Good. I want to talk to you,” She said.

He sighed and opened his eyes, still lying down and facing her. “That’s swell.”

“Don’t you think you’d like to go back to detecting once in a while? You know, just for the fun of it?” Juhyun asked, stroking his hair.

“Can’t you get to sleep?”

“No,” She was still stroking his hair.

Yunho sat up. “Maybe a drink would help you.”

“No thanks.”

“Maybe it would if I took it,” He got out of bed and made his way to the bureau at the side where he poured himself a glass of gin.

Juhyun was watching him. “Everyone says you’re a good detective, Yuyu.”

“They were just kidding you,” Yunho quipped as he drank.

“I’d like to see you work,” She said.

“Tomorrow, I’ll buy you a lot of detective stories.”

Juhyun frowned. “Oh, that poor girl is in an awful spot,” She said quietly, partly in the hopes of convincing him.

Yunho returned, climbing back into the bed. “There’s nothing I can do to help her,” He moved a little when Asta jumped on the bed and curled up at their feet.

“She thinks you can. It wouldn’t hurt you to find out if you could, wouldn’t it?”

“Darling, my guess is that Junho killed Jaekyung and Sungyoung knows it. The police will catch him without any help from me,” Yunho kissed her cheek.

“You know, I think I’d like that drink,” Juhyun gave him a look. Yunho sighed and got back out of bed. “I’ll give you your Christmas present now if you give me mine.”

Yunho poured her another glass of gin. “At breakfast.”

“But it’s Christmas now, Yuyu.”

“Breakfast,” He pointed out, returning to bed and handing her the glass.

“What are you going to give me? I hope I don’t like it,” She teased.

“You’ll have to keep it anyway. The man at the aquarium said he wouldn’t take them back,” Yunho lay back down and closed his eyes to try and fall back asleep.

“Oh alright, but I’m mad at you,” She gently smacked his thigh and placed the glass down, laying back down to face him and turning off the light only to turn it back on again when there was a knock on the door. She paused, sitting up a little when the knocking continued. “Yuyu, there’s someone at the door. Shush, Asta,” she glanced at the whining dog.

“Let them knock.”

“I’ll answer it,” Juhyun got out of bed and put her bedroom slippers on as she padded out of the room and toward the door. She stopped upon opening it.

“Mr. Jeong here?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“I have to talk to him, that’s all. I have to do that,” He said, sounding rushed.

Juhyun looked him up and down. “Alright, wait here, I’ll tell him,” She said, walking back to the bedroom. “Yunho, Yunho, there’s someone to see you.”

Yunho sighed and sat up. “That’s great, I was afraid I’d have to go back to sleep,” He said, suddenly at attention as Juhyun moved to go back to her side of the bed.

“You have the funniest look on your face,” She chuckled, only to stop when she sees what he’s seeing.

“Stay where you are, both of you,” He had a revolver pointed at Yunho. “I have to talk to you, and I want you to give it to me straight. Get me?”

“Would you mind putting that gun away? My wife doesn’t care but I’m a very nervous person,” Yunho looked unfazed.

“Idiot,” Juhyun mumbled, nudging him but appreciating his joke all the same.

“Alright, shoot- I mean, what’s on your mind?” Yunho asked.

“You don’t need to tell me you’re tough. I’ve heard about you, I’m Choi Jongho,” He said.

Juhyun looked intrigued. “I’ve never heard about you,” Yunho said.

“I didn’t knock Jaekyung off.”

“Alright you didn’t.”

“I haven’t seen her in three months. We were all washed up.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I wouldn’t have any reason to hurt her. She was always on the level with me, but that dirty little rat Yeosang - he got sore because I clicked and he didn’t. So he put the finger on me!” Jongho revealed.

“That’s all swell, only you’re peddling your fish in the wrong market. I’ve got nothing to do with it,” Yunho said.

“Listen, the boys used to say that you were ok, that’s why I’m here. Listen, what’s the law doing to me? Do they think I did it? Or is it something else to pin on me?!” Jongho kept his gun pointed at Yunho.

“I’d you if I knew, but I’m not in this. Ask the police.”

“That’d be very smart, that’d be the smartest thing I ever did. Me, that a police captain’s been in a hospital three weeks on account we had an argument. The boys would like to have me come in and ask questions, they’d like it right down to the end of their blackjacks!” Jongho glared at him. “Now I come to you on the level, the boys say you’re on the level why don’t you be on the level!”

“I am on the level, if I knew anything I’d-”

Loud knocks were coming from the front door. Asta sat up barking, Juhyun shushing the dog again. “What’s that?” Jongho asked.

“I don’t know, this is your party,” Yunho shrugged.

They heard the loud knocks again. “Open up! It’s the police!” A booming voice was heard from the other side.

“The police! You dirty, two-timing-” Jongho was about to fire. Yunho knocked Juhyun out of the way, making her fall off the bed while he tackled the smaller male to the ground, accidentally setting off a few shots as Asta kept barking.

In came the hotel manager and a group of police officers led by a tall man, Lieutenant Song Mingi, who immediately pulled the two men apart while an officer caught the gun that fell to the side. Yunho got back up on his feet. “Juhyun… Juhyun!” He rushed over to his wife, who was on one side of the room. “Juhyun my darling, are you alright?” He patted her cheeks.

“What knocked her out?” Mingi asked.

“I did. She was in the line of fire,” Yunho reached for her untouched glass, trying to get her to drink.

“Who’s she?”

“My wife.”

“Did this guy shoot her?” Mingi gestured to Jongho, whose hands were now cuffed.

“No, he tried to shoot me. I had to sock her in the jaw to get her out, I must’ve hit her too hard,” Yunho explained, still patting her cheek. “Juhyun,” Her eyes were starting to open and she was beginning to stir. “Juhyun, look at me.”

“You darn fool, you didn’t have to knock me out,” Juhyun rubbed her jaw. “I knew you’d take him but I wanted to see you do it!”

“There’s a gal with hair on her chest,” Mingi chuckled, amused at the reaction.

Yunho pulled her up to her feet, Juhyun letting go. “Yunho! You’re bleeding! You’re hurt!” She said, noticing the blood on his thigh.

“It just grazed me, it didn’t hit me,” Yunho tried to pull her close but she sat him down.

“Someone get a doctor!” Juhyun rushed to the bathroom while the hotel manager went on his way.

“I don’t even feel it, Juhyun,” He called out. “How did you people have to pop in, Lieutenant?”

“We hear this is getting to be sort of a meeting place for the Park family, so we figure we’ll stick around in case the old man himself shows up. Then we see Jongho sneak in and we decided to come up, and pretty lucky for you-”

“Yes, I might not have been shot,” Yunho looked at his wound.

“That little rat Yeosang!” Jongho struggled in his place.

“Is Jongho a friend of yours?” Mingi asked.

“I never saw him before.”

“What does he want of you?”

“He wanted to tell me he didn’t kill Woo Jaekyung.”

“What’s that to you?”

“Nothing.”

“What did he think it was to you?”

“Ask him, I don’t know,” Yunho gestured to the smaller male.

“I’m asking you,” Mingi said pointedly.

“Keep on asking,” Yunho shrugged.

“Alright, you’re going to keep mum huh?” The lieutenant raised a brow. “Alright, Mr. Jeong. I won’t bother you tonight, but I’ll be in tomorrow morning, and I’ll have plenty of things to ask. Good night! Boys, bring him out of here” Mingi turned to the officers, who escorted Jongho, who was still struggling in their grip as they left the room.

“Where’s Asta? Asta!” Yunho called out for the dog, who crawled out of the bureau. “You’re a fine watchdog.”

“He’s got more sense than you have. I’m glad you’re not on this case,” Juhyun returned from the bathroom with a small towel soaked in warm water to tend to his wound.

“On it? I’m in it...they think I did it,” Yunho watched her wipe the blood stains away.

“Well, didn’t you?” Juhyun teased.

Yunho laughed and pulled her towards him, tickling her side.

Yunho and Juhyun slept in, with Juhyun waking up to see that it was already noon. Yunho had gotten out of bed as well, the two of them exchanging Christmas greetings as they went out to the living room to open their presents. Asta followed them, running around them in circles. “How’s your thigh?” She asked.

“Much better, I can barely feel a thing, I told you it was alright since last night,” He pointed out, slumping down on the couch.

Juhyun saw a piece of paper by the mini-bar. “Yuyu, there’s a telegram for you,” She said, picking up the paper.

“Open it.”

Juhyun sat down next to him, Yunho placing her legs over his. “Yuyu! This is from Park Junho!” She gaped. “Will you take charge of the investigation on Woo Jaekyung’s murder. Communicate with Kim Hongjoong. Park Junho,” She read out. Yunho looked unfazed.

“Where did it come from?”

“Out of the city. But then he didn’t do it,” Juhyun deduced.

“I don’t know. Communicate with Hongjoong, huh? Alright, we’ll ask him up here today,” Yunho sat back.

Juhyun picked up the day’s newspapers on the table, figuring that the manager had them delivered personally so as not to wake them. “Your story’s all over the papers. They said you were shot five times, at least it says here in the tabloids.”

“That’s not true, he never came near my tabloids,” Yunho joked. “That’s one thing I always protect… my tabloids,” He picked up the phone when it rang. “Hello? Oh yes, send him up and tell him to let himself in,” And he hung up. “It’s Hongjoong.”

A moment later the door opened and in came the smaller male. “Good afternoon, I’m afraid this isn’t exactly a very merry Christmas for both of you,” Hongjoong noticed them. “Or I must have been mistaken,” He chuckled, making them sit up.

“Just the man we’ve been looking for, here you are,” Yunho showed him the telegram. “What do you think?”

“Hmm, so he wants you to handle the case? Well, what are the chances of you getting to do what he wants?”

“Slim.”

“Slim? Oh please, Yunho-”

“Shush,” He put a finger to her lips and she playfully bit him.

“Well I wish you would, Mr. Jeong. Would it help at all if I could persuade him to meet with you?” Hongjoong looked a little hopeful. “I got word from Junho myself last night. It was some kind of code message to insert in the papers in case I wanted to get in touch with him.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to put it in,” Yunho nodded.

“I’m sure you could clear this up. He should appear, you know, it really doesn’t look good, him staying away at a time like this,” Hongjoong said.

The phone rang and Juhyun picked it up. “Hello? Oh, yes, he’s here, hold on,” She turned to them. “It’s for you, Mr. Kim, it’s the police department,” She handed him the receiver.

“Hello?” Hongjoong moved closer. “Hello? Yes… Where? Oh, when is the next train? Right, I’ll get that,” and he hung up. “Park Junho’s trying to commit suicide. They want me to come down and identify him. I guess this changes the whole story, doesn’t it? That looks like an admission of guilt, and I had such hopes too...I thought if you got on the case, you’d be able to clear him. I thought that Hyomin...the way she acted...I was sure that…” He sighed. Oh well, it’s no use thinking of that now. I’m so sorry to have troubled you, wasted your time. You’ll excuse me, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Yunho nodded and Juhyun got up to see him out. “What’s the matter with you?” He saw her crestfallen expression.

“Oh then that’s that. The mystery’s all gone, and I wanted you to find out who did it,” She frowned.

“Maybe I will.”

“But Park Junho-”

“I don’t believe he did it,” Yunho shook his head, eyeing her. “I have a hunch, but I’m going to find out. Come on, Watson, we’re going places and I want to talk to Lieutenant Song Mingi,” He got up, the two of them going back into the bedroom.

With Asta on a leash, Yunho and Juhyun stepped out of the building, where the lieutenant was waiting for them. “You really shouldn’t try to play tricks on me. Running out when I was giving you time to rest before I asked any more questions,” Mingi said, immediately catching up to them in a walk. “Man to man, Mr. Jeong, are you working on this case?”

“Man to man, I’m not.”

“But he’s interested,” Juhyun spoke.

“Well, I don’t mind telling you. I’d rather have you working with us than against us,” Mingi said.

“So would I.”

“It’s a bargain then. Anything you want to know?”

“What about the suicide?” Yunho asked.

“Oh that’s all fake. The men didn’t even have to go down,” Mingi frowned.

“I thought it might be. From now on, they’re going to think that every thin man over six feet with white hair is Park Junho,” Yunho said.

“Do you think Park Junho did it?” Juhyun asked the officer this time.

“Looks like he planned something. He shut up his apartment and his shop, but there’s nothing yet to cinch it,” Mingi shrugged.

“I’ll bet you a hundred thousand won that Park Junho didn’t do it,” Yunho grinned.

“Who’s your candidate?” Mingi was curious.

“I haven’t got that far yet. But I don’t think everything points to Park Junho. What about the alibis?”

“Oh, they’re all okay. Mrs. Jung, the boy, Sungyoung, Hongjoong, even Jongho, we had to let him go.”

“What about Jung Wooyoung?”

“I’ll check on that,” Mingi said. “I’m afraid this is quite dull for you, Mrs. Jeong,” He turned to Juhyun.

“Dull? I’m on the edge of my chair!” Juhyun beamed.

“Well, honestly, I’m stumped. I don’t know what to do next. What about you, Mr. Jeong?”

“Me? No, I don’t know, but I do have a hunch. I got a call last night, I thought it was from a crank but I’ve changed my mind. Whoever he was, he knew something and I have a feeling I’ll hear from him again,” Yunho revealed.

“Are you still waiting to hear from the crank?” Juhyun asked him that evening at their room.

“Hello? Hello, yes, this is Jeong Yunho,” Yunho grabbed the receiver. “I can’t hear you, you’ll have to speak louder.”

“I can’t speak any louder, this is Kang Yeosang again, remember me?” He said on the other line, sounding a little fearful. “Still interested in that proposition? You are? Yeah, okay, so here’s the dope, and get this straight. The man who killed Woo Jaekyung-”

The sound of a gunshot boomed and he fell to the floor.

“So you think Park Junho killed Woo Jaekyung and Kang Yeosang,” Yunho asked Mingi when he dropped by shortly after the news got out the next morning. “Why?”

“Two reasons. First, Yang Hyomin, Mrs. Jung came across the watch chain she got from Woo Jaekyung’s body,” Mingi recalled. “It belonged to Park Junho. The second reason? The bullet that killed Kang Yeosang came from the same gun that killed Woo Jaekyung.”

“Well, isn’t that alright, lieutenant,” Yunho looked impressed.

“Alright? It’s perfect! Park Junho is guilty of both of those murders!” Mingi grinned.

“Well, maybe. My offer still stands. A hundred thousand won. I still think Park Junho’s innocent,” Yunho said.

Mingi waved a hand dismissively. “You can say what you want, Mr. Jeong. I’m spreading the dragnet for that guy over every town in the country!”

“You think they’ll find him, Yunho?” Juhyun looked over at her husband, who was pacing back and forth in the living room that evening. “He must be in another city by now. Oh, I wish they’d stop with all these sirens, it’s making me fidgety.”

“He probably is,” Yunho stopped.

“Oh this is getting me down, I saw Sungyoung today,” Juhyun frowned. “She’s broken off her engagement with Seonghwa. She was a little hysterical, something about not wanting to ruin his life, being the daughter of a murderer and all that. Seonghwa didn’t care. He loves her despite it all.”

“Poor kid, well, I’ll see you later, darling,” Yunho slipped on his coat and put on his hat, quickly getting Asta on a leash.

Juhyun strode towards him. “Where do you think you’re going? And at this hour of the night?” Her hands were on her hips.

“I’m going to take Asta for a walk.”

“But he’s just been for a walk.”

“Well, we’re going sightseeing, aren’t we, Asta?” Yunho looked down at the dog, making faces.

Juhyun gave him a look. “What are you up to?” She looked into his pockets, finding a set of keys and the revolver she remembered Sungyoung bringing in.

“Hey! I told you, I’ve got a hunch. I’m going to look into Park Junho’s shop. I want to find out why it’s closed,” Yunho replied, taking the revolver back.

“Why shouldn’t he close it? He went away, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he went away lots of times when I knew him, but he never closed up his shop. I’ve got a hunch something’s up.”

“You mean he might be hiding here?”

“I don’t know, but this thing’s giving me the itch. I have to find out,” Yunho said.

“Yuyu, I won’t have you going down there,” She said.

“Hey! You’re the one who got me into this!” He looked amused.

“I know, but this is different! He’s a crazy man! He might kill you!”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got Asta to protect me” Yunho gestured to the dog, whose tail was wagging.

“Fine, fine, go on, go on, see if I care,” She frowned, almost pouting. “But I think it’s a dirty trick to bring me all the way here just to make a widow of me.”

“You wouldn’t be widow long,” He wrapped his arms around her.

“You bet I wouldn’t.”

“Not with all your money.”

“You dog.”

Yunho kissed her on the cheek. “Goodbye, sugar” He winked before leaving the bedroom and toward the front door.

Juhyun caught up to him again. “Yunho, take care of yourself out there, will you?” She said.

“Sure I will.”

“Don’t say it like that, say it as if you meant it!” Juhyun was still frowning.

Yunho couldn’t help but smile. “Why I believe my wife cares.”

“I don’t care! I’m just used to you, that’s all” Juhyun’s expression remained that of concern. She threw her arms around him and kissed him. Juhyun pulled away to hug him tightly, glancing down at the dog. “Asta, if you let anything happen to him, you’ll never wag that tail again!”

#kdiner #ateez #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #yunho #ateez timestamps

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