#I forget what the survival rates were like in other books

[beedok]

If you ever find yourself in an Alastair Reynolds novel: try transitioning.

It will increase your survival odds from ~3% to as high as 25%.

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 8

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 2.5k

Chapter rating: SFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!

Chapter 8: The Burden of a Creator

The soft buzz of the ship filled the infirmary as you lay on the bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. Your body still felt numb, but sensation and control were slowly returning to you. Two days had passed since the incident at the marine base, yet the memories still haunted your dreams, replaying the events over and over like a relentless nightmare.

Each time you woke, disoriented and drenched in sweat, one of the Straw Hat crew members was there, a comforting presence at your side. Whether it was Luffy keeping you entertained with stories of his childhood, or Sanji, trying to coax you into eating a bite or two of the food he’d brought, they never left you alone for long.

Today was no different. As your eyelids fluttered open, you were met with the sight of Robin sitting beside your bed, a book in her hand and a serene expression on her face. Her presence brought you a sense of calm, grounding you in the reality of the ship's familiar surroundings.

"Hey," Robin said softly, setting her book aside as she noticed you stirring. "How are you feeling?"

You managed a weak smile, your voice barely above a whisper. "Better, I think," you replied, your throat dry and scratchy.

Robin reached for the glass of water on the bedside table, holding it to your lips as you took small sips, grateful for the relief it provided. "You've been through a lot," she said, her tone gentle and understanding. "But you're safe now. We won't let anything happen to you."

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat at the reminder of the crew's kindness. You hadn’t been on the ship for long, but they had been by your side through thick and thin, offering their strength and reassurance when you needed it most.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely audible as tears welled up in your eyes. "I didn't mean to put any of you in danger."

Robin reached out, gently wiping away your tears with a comforting touch. "We know," she said, her voice filled with compassion.

Her words brought you comfort but the guilt you felt for failing to control Yokubari was unbearable on your conscience.

“Were there any survivors?” You asked her after a while.

“Not that we know of.” Robin’s response weighed heavily on your heart. The burden of responsibility for the lives lost at the marine base pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket.

“I see.” You turned your back to the woman, closing your eyes in a futile attempt to forget.

“We… The crew survived so it’s not impossible” She added, a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

You didn’t answer.  It was a pointless attempt to give you hope.

When it became clear to Robin that you were not going to respond, she got up with a sigh. You listened as her footsteps carried her towards the exit of the infirmary. She stopped for a while, a hesitant hand on the doorknob. “You did the best you could.” She said voice heavy. “Sometimes, things are beyond our control. You shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened.” Her tone sounded distant, as though she was directing those kind words to someone else.

She opened the door and closed it gently behind her.

She was wrong. Yokubari was your responsibility. Deep down you had known there was the possibility you wouldn’t be able to control it in your weakened state. And yet. Yet, your fear had made you selfish. Selfish enough to endanger those around you. Selfish enough to kill, to take innocent lives away from this world.

You tossed and turned, willing yourself to go to sleep unsuccessfully. This wouldn’t do. With a groan you clumsily sat up. Your eyes landed on the sword at your feet. The blade seemed to beckon to you. With a heavy sigh, you reached for it, running your fingers along the smooth obsidian surface of the scabbard.

“I should throw you in the sea.” You mumbled at the blade.

Silence.

“I swear, you’re nothing but trouble. You’re greedy. You’re stubborn… You’re worse than a cursed blade really.” You reprimanded.

The soft hum emanating from the sword seemed satisfied, proud almost.

“You caused so much pain” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “And yet, I can’t bring myself to part with you.”

It was pleased with your words, pleased with itself. You can’t help the anger that filled you at its content hum.

“I should have never created you,” You whispered, your voice tinged with regret. You knew it was pointless, you hadn’t had a choice but to create it. Still, it was a necessary lie you told yourself to keep you sane. “You were supposed to be a tool for good, but all you’ve brought is pain and destruction.”

The sword remained quiet, its cold surface offering no solace or reassurance. It reveled in the chaos it caused, indifferent of the suffering it wrought.

“Having a heart-to-heart with the sword, huh?” Franky chuckled in the doorway, trying to lighten the mood. His brows were furrowed with concern, a sharp contrast with the lightness of his tone.

“An aimless argument I keep having” you said, shooting him a half smile.

Franky pulled up a chair, sitting down beside you. “Look, kid, what happened back there. None of us blame you for it. That sword… Zoro said its got a mind of its own. He didn’t explain much but it ain’t really your fault, is it? What happened that is.”

You stared at Franky, his words slowly sinking in.

“You’re wrong, I knew there was a chance I’d lose control. I gambled with all your lives.” You argued weakly. “Besides, I’m the one who created it. I brought this bastard of a sword into existence.”

Franky leaned forward, his expression earnest. He scratched his head, looking for the words he wanted to say. “Let me tell you something, kiddo. Never be ashamed of what you’ve created.” He started. “No creation is inherently evil. You made that sword with good intentions, right?” He asked.

You nodded.

“That blade, it’s a work of art. I can tell you put a lot of effort and passion into it when you forged it. A sword’s purpose may be to kill, but at the end of the day a weapon is still just a tool. It can be used as much for good than evil.” The cyborg stated, eyes not leaving yours. “What happened back there was an accident. I’m not saying you don’t hold responsibility for what you decide to create but intent matters.

Your eyes left his to look down at the sword clutched in your hands. Your vision was suddenly blurry as thick tears rolled down your cheeks.

You sniffed loudly. “Franky” you uttered between loud sobs, “I’m so sorry” your shoulders shook violently with emotion.

 “Oi, oi, oi, kiddo” Franky’s strong arms enveloped you in a comforting embrace, his voice gentle as he tried to soothe your turmoil.  “No need to apologize.”

Your fists buried themselves in his Hawaiian shirt as you finally let the tension you’d been holding out of your system.

“Is everything alright?” Chopper’s rattled voice rang through the room as he slammed the door open in panic.

“What’s going on?” Sanji appeared next, clearly frazzled. “I heard the sound of a woman’s tears falling.”

You can’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips at the cheesy line from the cook. You let go of the cyborg’s shirt and he passed you the box of tissues next to him.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)? Are you hurt somewhere? Do you need medical attention?” The small reindeer asked in a frenzy.

You blew out your nose loudly. Tears still falling on your cheeks.

“No Chopper” You said with a smile. “I think I’ll be alright!”

“That’s my firecracker!” The cyborg said proudly, giving you a pat on the back before standing up and leaving space for Chopper.

The doctor bustled over instantly, taking your vitals.

“Franky” You called out to the shipwright as he was making his way out. “Thank you.”

He turned back, his trademark grin radiated positivity. “No problem, firecracker! Besides we’re family.” He took a few steps before turning to you again. “By the way, you should join us for dinner if you have the energy. Everyone’s been worried sick over ya and it’ll do you good to get out of here.” He gestured at the small room.

You nodded gratefully, a genuine smile spreading on your face. “I think I’d like that,” you said, feeling a spark of warmth at the thought of being surrounded by your newfound family once more.

“Well, in that case, I better make a feast. We ought to celebrate.” Sanji said following the cyborg out of the infirmary.

“I wasn’t sure if we’d lose you.” Chopper spoke, bringing your attention back to him. “But you’re doing much better now,” he stated with a hint of pride in his voice. “Just make sure to take it easy, okay?”

You nodded. “Thanks, doc”, you said sincerely. “I’ll make sure to listen to your orders.” You shoot him a conspiratorial wink.

The doctor readjusted his hat shyly, happiness and relief clear in his eyes.

The galley was bustling with energy as you entered. The smell of Sanji’s cooking made your stomach grumble loudly.

“Oh! You’re finally out of bed!” Luffy’s voice boomed with enthusiasm, and before you could fully process his words, his palm landed squarely on your back with a force that nearly sent you careening forward. You stumbled a few steps, catching yourself just in time to avoid crashing into the table.

“Whoa there, Captain,” you chuckled, steadying yourself. “Good to see you too.”

Luffy grinned. You let yourself fall down in your chair, not completely trusting your legs yet. You set your sword next to you, unwilling to let it out of your sight just yet.

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)?” Usopp asked, his eyes leaving the slingshot he was tinkering with. The conversations died around you, all awaiting your answer.

“I’ll be alright.” you said. “All thanks to our amazing doctor.”

Chopper looked down shyly at the compliment, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

Robin smiled warmly from her seat, setting her book down. “We missed your company. It’s good to have you back.”

“That’s right, you had us worried for a second there” Nami added next to you.

Sanji placed plates of food on the table. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d make a feast. You watched as the rest of the crew took their places around the table.

The swordsman lowered himself into the seat across from you, his gaze intense yet guarded. For a moment, it seemed as though he was about to speak, but then he hesitated, his lips pressing together in a firm line as if wrestling with his thoughts.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Zoro broke the silence between the two of you. “Glad to see you’re up” he muttered gruffly under his breath.

“Thanks for bringing back Yokubari” you shot back at him.

He shuffled uncomfortably. “’twas nothing.”

You scoffed. Like hell it was nothing.

The swordsman began to say something else but Sanji interrupted the moment.

"Here you go, (Y/n)," he said with a charming smile, placing a heaping plate of food in front of you. "Made with extra love and care to help you get back on your feet."

You glanced down at the mouthwatering spread before you, feeling a surge of gratitude toward the cook for his kindness. "Thanks, Sanji," you said, offering him a grateful smile. "It looks delicious."

Sanji beamed at your appreciation before turning his attention to the rest of the crew, ensuring that everyone had their fill before he let Luffy dig in. The galley buzzed with conversation and laughter, the atmosphere warm and inviting as the crew shared stories and jokes with one another.

As you dug into your meal, you couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie wash over you. Despite the challenges you had faced and the mistakes you had made, you were surrounded by a crew who accepted you for who you were, flaws and all. You’d have to write to Mary about it, she was going to be happy.

Across the table, Nami and Usopp engaged in a spirited debate about the merits of different navigational techniques, their voices rising and falling in animated discussion. You couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm, grateful for their friendship and the sense of normalcy they brought to your life.

Chopper, his plate piled high with food, chattered excitedly with Robin about a book they were both reading. Robin listened attentively, her quiet wisdom a steady presence amidst the exuberance of the young doctor.

And Luffy, ever the enthusiastic captain, laughed and joked with each member of the crew in turn, his infectious energy lighting up the room and drawing everyone together in a spirit of camaraderie and friendship.

You could feel Zoro’s eye on you as he still clearly battled with something in his mind.

“Well? What is it?” You asked him, tired of waiting.

He wavered for an instant. “Let me hold that sword of yours again.” He demanded.

Your mind struggled to process the meaning of his words. You couldn’t help the incredulous “huh?” that crossed your lips at the man’s idiocy.

Brook stumbled a note on his guitar, stopping the tune he’d been playing. The conversations died around you.

“Let me hold Yokubari” The swordsman demanded again.

“Are you fucking mad?��� You screeched.

Zoro’s jaw clenched, he held your gaze, unwilling to back down.

“Are you suicidal or something? It almost fucking killed you!” you scowled at him.

His eye bore into you with a fiery intensity, his words dripping with stubbornness. “I need to check something, let me hold it. I can handle it.”

You both knew that last part was a blatant lie. You shot him an insolent glare. “Oh, look who thinks can handle you, Yokubari, do you agree?” You retorted, tone dripping with sarcasm as you set the sword on the table in a bold display. Your eyes traveled from the blade back to the swordsman in defiance.

His face broke into a familiar sneer. “I can fucking handle it” he reiterated leaning forward.

You scoffed, a smirk playing on your lips. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were the expert on handling my own damned swords,” you shot back, tone dripping with condescension.

“You’re downright insufferable, witch” He shouted at you, standing up brusquely.

“Oh yeah?” Your nostrils flared with anger as you stood up, matching his stance. “Well, you’re just a fucking idiot if you think you can handle it again, swordsman.”

The crew sat back, looking amusedly at the familiar display before them.

Everything was all right after all.

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Masterlist

[cinnbar-bun]

First Love / Late Spring (Nico Robin x Reader)

Summary: "Wild women don't get the blues, but I find that lately, I've been crying like a tall child."

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~2.4k

Notes: GN!reader, flowery prose, not specified timeline wise but after Enies Lobby, Robin going through her feelings. I always imagine Robin would be extra nervous about falling in love, for some reason.

“What are you doing up so late?” Robin’s not surprised someone was walking close to her- years of remaining vigilant had made her hyper aware of her surroundings at all times. It does, however, take her aback when she recognizes that voice as yours. She glances up to you, peeling her eyes away from the book she was reading to see your smiling face. 

You look so gentle, yet why does her heart tighten and why does she find herself trembling in front of you? 

She doesn’t feel this way with the other members of the crew. She doesn’t feel as if she wants to run miles away from them. 

Something about you almost terrifies her, making her feel like a scared child again. But she’s grown, loved by this crew- she shouldn’t feel this way. Especially not to you, you who has been so kind and considerate towards her. 

“Just reading. Like usual,” she responds, forcing her eyes to the book. 

You terrify her. You scare her. You make her feel weak. You make her want to scream- scream loudly to the seas that she can’t be near you. That she can’t look at you, or else she’ll be frozen in fear. 

But she is weak and her eyes drift to your chuckling face. Your eyes are beautiful. They reflect the bright stars in the sky and she wants to throw herself into them. 

You fascinate her. You intrigue her. You make her feel alive. You make her want to scream loudly to the sea she needs you next to her or else she will feel empty. She can’t look at you, or else she’ll be stuck staring into your eyes and wishing for a way to drown in them. 

The way you make her feel is so foreign, so alien, and she despises this feeling that eats her alive inside and out. She hates that she is both repulsed and spellbound by you. She hates that she loves when you smile at her. She hates how her breath leaves her lungs when her hand accidentally comes into contact with yours. 

She shouldn’t be behaving like this. For god’s sake- she’s the Demon Child!- she should be beyond this. She should not be affected by things like this. And even though this feeling is new, unlike anything she’s ever felt for anyone else, she knows the word that describes this feeling. 

Even thinking of the word terrifies her. Scares her more than anything. 

When it comes to this feeling- this cursed word that she dare not ever utter or dream about- she finds herself going back to her old train of thought. 

Survive. Run away. Forget this. Leave it alone. Kill all the feelings. Let them scatter to the wind like ripped petals. Don’t you dare give in. Don’t you dare believe. 

But that young part of her that dares to dream and hope whispers in her ear again and again. 

Oh, but let’s dream about this, can’t we? Why can’t we just tell them? Wouldn’t it be nice? Just like those fairytales we’ve read about! Just like those people who had happy homes and long lives together. That could be you. 

It could be you. 

You and them. 

Wouldn’t that be so nice? 

And she wants to believe so bad. Truly, it takes every fiber of restraint within her to not pour out her feelings and spout all the nonsense in her head that is filled with you. All the garbled and fragmented trains of thought she buries down deep inside that always end up leading back to you. Dreams and hopes she never allowed herself to have ever since that fateful, terrifying day that led her to this point. 

It should be simple, yet she never has the heart to say it. Her heart is racing a mile a minute and her thoughts are jumbled with all the things she can’t muster the courage to say. She is strong, she’s made friends, she even has a crew of people who were willing to go against the government for her. 

You stare peacefully into the water, the sea a dark abyss Robin thinks would be far more comfortable to sink in than this situation she finds herself in. You look so at ease that she wonders what’s going on inside your head. 

Do you think of me like I think of you? Do you dream about me, wonder about me, look at me the way I do to you? Do you imagine us together? Do you want me? Do you like me? 

Would you hurt me? What if you say no? What if you don’t think of me that way, what will happen next? Will I be alone again? Will you avoid me, will you never want to look at me? 

Are you… are you as terrified of me as I am of you? 

“Robin,” your voice calls to her. 

“Yes,” she responds a bit too quickly for her liking. 

“Look,” you point to the sky and she notices a shooting star falling into the horizon. “Make a wish!” 

She hadn’t done that sort of thing in years. Wishing often was a pointless task that just led her to disappointment in her younger days when she saw them. But your eyes were slammed shut while you clenched your fists, deep in thought on what must of have been a serious wish. The look on your face makes her chuckle, easing her tension for a moment. 

And then… she lets out a breath and closes her eyes.

I wish… I wish to continue to be by your side, (Y/n). I wish for us to be together for a long time. I want my happiness to be with you and this crew forever. 

That’s not too selfish to ask for, is it? 

I hope that’s not unbecoming of me in your eyes. What would you think if you knew what I thought? 

“I hope your wish comes true,” you state. 

“What did you wish for?” She asks you curiously. 

“Robin!” You gasp. “You can’t say your wish! Otherwise, it won’t come true!” 

Her brows raise. “Oh, you can’t?” 

“Well… I’m sure you can, but usually it’s just something that’s said. Superstition and all.” 

“I don’t believe in things like that,” Robin grins. “Maybe by saying what you want, it’s more likely to come true.” 

After all, after saying her wish, she finally got to be a part of this crew and welcomed into their open arms. 

“That’s a good way to think of it. So, what did you wish for?” 

Her heart stops. She can only blankly look into the sky with that shocked look on her face, unsure of what to say. 

She feels like a child again. Like the young girl who stared into the stars and begged and pleaded for anyone- anything- to answer her cries. Nothing’s really changed, has it? She would still be that same, scared girl when it came to those desires deep within her. 

How could she ever open herself to that and allow you to witness her, everything exposed for you to see? 

“Oh, if it’s personal, you don’t have to say it,” you add, noticing the far-out look her in eyes. 

“No,” she whispers quietly. 

“No, what?” 

“No. I…” What was she trying to get to, she wonders. What was it she so desperately wished to let out? 

“Robin, seriously, you don’t need to tell me,” you say in a concerned tone. “You know I’d never force you to do something like that.” 

“I know.” I know. I know that. It’s why I want to risk it all for this. I want to throw caution to the wind and tell you what’s been bubbling inside. 

You spread your arms wide to hug her, a gesture she appreciates but only makes her tremble outwardly. 

“I care for you, Robin. You don’t ever have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” you gently comfort her. Her throat tightens as her eyes begin to water. 

Please don’t say that… please don’t give me hope…

You feel an arm wrap around you as Robin pulls you in closer, summoning more arms to cover you in the blanket she had on her shoulders. 

“Robin?” Your eyes gaze into her blue ones. Your eyes are so kind and worried for her, all for her, and she sees her scared reflection in them. 

“I care for you, too,” she begins, swallowing loudly in this silent and tense moment. “And I appreciate all you do.” 

Her jaw is clenched and her arms are shaking. Her mouth opens then shuts, unsure. 

“Why are you about to cry? Is something bothering you?” 

“No…” she lies. You place a hand on her cheeks, causing her to stiffen before she leans into your touch. The tears that threaten to pour only grow as she refuses to look away from you. Her head bobs up and down as she tries to wipe a tear. 

You can only watch as she begins to sob in your presence, covering her eyes to avoid the source of her shame and desires. 

“Yes,” she pathetically admits. She hadn’t cried like this in ages. She hadn’t been so weak since that day- why do you make her feel like this? 

“I’m right here, Robin,” you tell her, hoping she will say what’s on her mind. She shakes her head. 

“Don’t say that. Don’t say such sweet things to me like that. I-I know that even if I’m here, no matter what, I am still the Devil Child,” she tries to explain. 

“What? What are you talking about?” 

“I… There are some things that I can never have, even amongst this crew.” 

Your eyes widen in shock at what she’s saying. “What do you mean? Robin, you can have whatever you want here. Whatever you want or need, we’re all here for you.” 

You don’t understand, you don’t understand! 

“I love you!” She screams, her voice echoing into the boundless sky as she throws her hands into the air. “I love you, and it kills me!” 

She slaps a hand over her mouth when she realizes what she just admitted on impulse. The shocked look on your face further exacerbates her anxiety. 

“N-no, I didn’t- I’m sorry, please don’t-” 

“Do you mean that?” 

“I…” 

“Do you really mean that? Do you really love me?” You ask, placing a hand over your heart. She gulps and nods, knowing she has nowhere else to go.

“I do. I have, for a while now,” she replies, looking at the floor. You quietly embrace her again, making her jump before she wraps her arms around you. She rests her chin on top of your head and gazes off to the sea. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize. I’m… I’m really happy to hear that, actually.” 

“You are?” 

“Mhm. I’ve loved you, too,” you smile. She pulls back from the hug and tries to scan your face for any sign of deceivement or lies. But you are so sincere, so earnest in your feelings, she can’t help but feel her cheeks heat up. Robin’s shoulders relax as her hands drop to her sides. 

“You have?” 

Oh, please don’t be untrue. Please don’t be a cruel joke. 

“Of course. How could I not? You’re Nico Robin,” you chuckle. “You’re practically perfect in every way.” 

“I am?” She questions, suddenly feeling heart beat faster. Not in the anxious way it beat into her ribs like a hammer, but in the way a young girl does when finally feeling her love requited. The way those princesses would most certainly feel when they were embraced by their loves. The way all things come clear in a singular moment, when flowers open to reveal their soft petals, when the world doesn’t exist except for you and her. Her and you. You and your smile. Her and her heartbeat. Her and her slowing breath. You and your airy laugh. 

Oh… you… 

“Yeah. You’re wonderful, Robin,” you nod. “You’re lovely. I can’t describe it.” 

“I feel the same way,” she quietly laughs, wiping the remainder of her tears. “I couldn’t describe it. I didn’t think love was supposed to be this…” 

“Crazy?” You joke.

“That doesn’t even describe the half of it,” she grins. “It made me lose my damn mind over and over.” 

“And now?” 

Robin places her hand on top of yours. “And now… I can breathe easier for a moment. I feel as if I jumped, I could fly over this sea. But it also feels like I don’t want to be anywhere without you.” 

You place your other hand on top of hers. “Then we don’t have to go separately. We can go anywhere together.” 

A few more hands pop out and hold yours. You two laugh at the visual and enjoy the intimacy of this night. 

“Can I be selfish and ask you take me where you go?” She asks, that adoring look in her eyes making you melt. 

“It’s not selfish. Not at all. I wouldn’t want to go without you, anyways,” you explain. 

“Even if I didn’t make sense, like now, would you still listen to me?” 

“Of course. I could listen to you for hours.” 

The tears are fully gone, leaving only a Robin whose smile is brighter than that of the moon and the thousands of stars that litter the sky. That word that she so dreaded, so feared, felt so isolated from, is now in her grasp. 

Love. 

Her very first love. 

For the first time, her heart feels so feel in a way that harkens back to her childhood self. 

This is what we wished for for so long, wasn’t it? We’ve waited so long for this type of feeling. If you were to see me now, would you be excited? Would you be happy we finally made it? 

“I take it your wish came true?” You ask cheekily. She nods. 

“Yes. Yes, it very much did,” she replies as she presses her lips to your forehead.

[hms-tardimpala]

Ficbinding: the Cultivation series

Over the weekend I bound the Cultivation series by xxSparksxx.

The fic: The Hobbit, bagginshield, rated G and T, 25.8k The series is composed of Roots and the sequel Branches. Synopsis for Roots:

Here in Erebor, among the Dwarves who had reclaimed their home with blood and sweat, Bilbo could almost forget that he was a Hobbit of the Shire. He could almost forget that Hobbits were not as other beings of Middle-earth, and that a mountain devoid of rich plant life was not the place for one such as he.

The fics are set post Battle of the Five Armies. Thorin and his nephews survived, and Bilbo settled in the rebuilding Erebor, but it starts to affect his health in a dire way. In the second fic, a certain Frodo Baggins appears... These fics are incredibly well-written, they're about cultural differences a lot, and that's one of the things I like the most about Thorin and Bilbo. The secondary characters are great too, special mention to Tauriel. And I loved Bilbo in this story, and I have a really hard time finding versions of him I like in fics (even in the book and movies, tbh, I'm a more of a Thorin guy).

The bind: I'm continuing my foray into smaller books (smaller than an A6 format) with this. I chose green for the cover and bookmark and brown for the headbands to go with the nature theme of the story. As usual, no titles on my books.

Things I'm happy about:

the margins: I'm learning to use my guillotine well and this is the first book I'm very happy with regarding margins. I tend to cut too much and struggle to cut straight, but this is a beauty.

the well-rounded spine

the decorations at the beginning and end of the stories, and next to the page numbers

the typesetting in general, with the drop caps and fonts.

All the things I'm less happy about are linked to the material I used for the cover. It's too-thick pleather that's not made for bookbinding, so I can't make a crease near the spine with it, I can't make elegant corners, and other minor flaws. The thing is bookbinding materials are expensive, and I can't put too much money into what is ultimately a hobby, so I have to use my stock of cheap and not great materials first.

But I really like this one! It's sturdy and small and nice, and it'll make rereading this series very pleasant.

Feel free to ask me about materials and fonts, it won't bother me at all to tell you what I used, but I'm too lazy rn to write it in this post that's long enough already.

[seeds-and-sins]

Light My Fire - Part Three

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x F!Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Graphic depictions of violence, Mentions of depression and death)

Description: Soldier Boy is dead. And his absence affects you more than you expected.

Tagged: @tonixe, @chernayawidow, @mrsjenniferwinchester, @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

Part Two

Author's Note: Apologies for the long wait. I have had a lot going on, but I am always ready to dig back into my writings. I have a few other stories I am in the process of catching up on as well.

"What?" You could feel yourself on the edge of your sickness, having recovered almost fully to excellent health. You waited then, and waited, and waited, and you waited because you found yourself excited to show Soldier Boy that you had gotten better. The last time you were together, for some reason, it made you wish he had never left. You still found him infuriating, but the reality of the situation was that you tended to enjoy the odd ball conversations and quips that teeter tottered between you two, despite that. "What do you mean?"

They chose Countess to give you the bad news. You didn't know why. You hated that they chose her. Although, there was no one that could inform you of this tragedy that was free from your wrath.

"He-" She had tears in her eyes, but they didn't feel very genuine, did they? "He didn't make it."

"You're lying!" You jumped up from your seat in the meeting room, nearly everyone flinched aside from Stan Edgar. Edgar remained suspiciously calm at his seat at the head of the table. "You're lying to me!"

"Phoenix, he's gone. I watched it with my own two eyes." The Legend was standing at the corner of the room, you looked to him for an explanation, even knowing that he never would have witnessed what your fellow team members had. He shrugged at you, the pity filled and morose expression on his face made you heat up with rage.

"I don't believe you. I want to know everything. What happened? It's impossible!"

"Phoenix. Honey." The Legend was unable to stop you as you began to pace, eyeing up the others like they were fresh meat and all of them were about to be thrown in the fire.

"He saved us. He saved all of us." Mindstorm ducked his head after speaking those words and it was in that moment you knew something was wrong because the air thickened with a harsh tension. Mindstorm was never a good liar.

"Then where's the body? None of you got the body?!"

"How could we? W-We would have died." Gunpowder cried out, his bottom lip wobbling, but he too couldn't meet your eyes.

"Then I will." Your white cape swung out behind you as you booked it for the doors. It would take you a couple hours to get to Nicaragua, but you could do it, you would do it for Soldier Boy.

"One moment, Phoenix..." Stan Edgar's calm voice penetrated you from afar, you didn't face him. "Think rationally. If Soldier Boy did not survive that minor nuclear blast, then neither would you survive it's remnants." You closed your eyes, a wetness rippling down your cheeks that turned into steam off your lashes. Your fists clenched at your sides and you bit down on the inside of your cheek. "You are not the only person mourning a great loss, the world is mourning for a fallen hero, and they need the remaining members of Payback to stick together and rise up."

"How can we rise up? We don't have a leader." You glared back at him, unable to hide the red burning in your irises.

"We don't need him, we just need each other." Even more proof that they were lying, Crimson so swift to give up on Soldier Boy, so swift to forget his importance.

"I should have gone, I should have been there. Maybe I would have done a better fuckin' job than you shit heads."

"Hey!" Tessa protested, you were at the other end of the table, glaring back at Stan Edgar.

"Perhaps..." His next words would haunt you for ages to come. "But you weren't."

...

1994...

You stood before a lengthy window that spanned the entirety of one side of your home. The view of a New York skyline, metal structures reaching toward a crystal blue sky. The sun bled through, your shadow cast against a pristine marble white floor. You were wearing your hero suit, which had changed over the years. It was mostly black, with red accents that followed the curves of your body. Your former suit was all white, but Vought claimed you had been wearing that suit for too long. You needed to rebrand. This new suit still had a cape, it was slanted off one shoulder and it was cut shorter than your last, ending at your lower back. The boots were knee high, with latches of vibrant red.

They started having meetings about your name too. The board hadn't come to a consensus. They wanted to keep you, relocate you after Payback finally disbanded. The issue was no one could ever get ahold of you. The Legend called nonstop, he could barely get your attention at scheduled events. You were never in your penthouse, never available for a quick conversation. You knew what they wanted, but for nearly an entire year you had been avoiding it. In fact, you had been putting all of your energy into a separate project. Outside the knowledge of twisted Vought executives and nosy journalists.

Where was Phoenix? They all asked.

What is the former Payback hero up to? Newspapers read.

The other members of Vought became bought out poster children for big corporations. Vought occasionally had them doing shows and special appearances. Crimson Countess became the face for a nationwide insurance company, the TNT twins had rights to their very own movie franchise, Mindstorm was an author of a New York Times bestseller, Noir, despite his impairment, continued doing signings and attending Vought funded events, and Gunpowder's fame dissipated into nothing as he grew older. There was the occasional memorial for Swatto. And then, of course, the annual Soldier Boy celebration of life. They even put up a poorly crafted statue in his honor, directly in front of the ever-rising Vought tower.

Phoenix knew that this was the only chance she had at rounding up all of Payback's former members. It was the only time of the year that all of them weren't scattered about at different parts of the country. Phoenix-You, were determined to gain their audience. You were more than prepared for it.

So, you called them to your penthouse. Unlike them, Vought didn't immediately kick you out from the tower's many different living accomodations. Vogelbaum and the Legend spoke on your behalf numerous times about your quality and significance as a hero. The others had seemingly died down in popularity, but for decades you could pride yourself in keeping an endless following. You used these facts to your advantage.

Your penthouse was usually filled to the brim with vintage furniture, little war trinkets from the old days sat on black wooden shelves. Today, you ensured it was mostly empty, or out of the way. You had a solid floor plan, no walls aside from the ones that bordered the penthouse. The walls were white, the kind of jarring white that matched the floors. Expensive paintings and photos of a distant past litered your walls, colorful decorations hung from the ceilings. The kitchen was to the far left, it was rounded with a bar counter and an island in the center, fully stocked. Your flat screen television was at the far opposite wall, accented by nothing. The couches, the mahogany coffee table, the end tables, your bed, everything was pushed up against that same wall. It made the entire center of the home barren. Not that it didn't already look somewhat empty, but there was certainly something off about the sight.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your head tilted, ear turned toward the door that was far out behind you.

"Come in." You prompted in a sickeningly sweet tone. The door creaked open, in entered Crimson Countess, a smile plastered on her lips.

"Ah, Countess." You faced her, approaching with sure strides. You enveloped her in a strong hug, which she lightly returned. You could see the discomfort on her face, despite the smile she wore to hide any suspicions from you. You held her at arm's length. "Let me get a good look at you." You smirked, giving her a once over. "You look just as good as I suspected." The offhanded insult caused her to frown for a moment before she returned to her appeasing demeanor.

"Phoenix, you look..." Countess looked you over from head to toe, cocking her head and blinking away the initial confusion. "Not a year older."

"Trust me, Countess. It's a curse more than anything." Your gritted teeth betrayed your curved lips and bright tone. "Please. Let me get you something to drink." You quickly moved from her toward the bar, while she slowly twisted around and took in the appearance of your penthouse.

"What's up with the furniture?" She rose her voice a little to reach you, words echoing off the high ceiling.

"I'm making a few changes." You went behind the bar and began making her a drink. You were mixing and stirring, grabbing things from the fridge, working with a startling fluidity. "What's your poison?" She followed up to the bar counter, tentatively placing herself at it's edge.

"I'll take whatever you got."

"Sure." You both made eye contact, and you knew that Countess' uneasiness was well-founded then. "Something troubling you?"

"Well, uh-" She snorted nervously, "What have you been up to?"

"Not much, really. The usual."

"Hmm." You shook the cocktail you were making, procured two tall glasses from below with the other hand. You placed them down in front of her and then poured, a stern glare now adorning your face.

"You nervous?"

"No. Of course not. Just uh-" She shrugged, "You haven't talked to us in years."

"Sure." You immediately grinned, another knock at the door followed.

"Come on in." Black Noir and Mindstorm were the next to enter. "Wow, we got a buddy system going now."

"Phoenix, my dear, so good to see you." Mindstorm greeted, Black Noir was his usual quiet, observing behind the protection of his mask.

"Ah, Dan, how ya' doing?" You gestured Mindstorm to come closer and embraced him in a hug. He sent you a raised brow before you attempted the same to Noir, who stiffly stood there in waiting. "I expect the twins will be late as usual. I don't mind waiting. Want something to drink, Dan?"

"Sure." His eyebrows were furrowed and he was eyeing you in suspicion. "I'll take a glass of scotch on the rocks."

"Of course." You rounded the counter to continue serving your guests.

"Is there a reason you invited us here?"

"Oh come on, a girl can't want for a family reunion?" Gunpowder was invited, but you knew he wouldn't show. Moments later the twins came in, with their false smiles and their flaunty hero personas. The general vibe though was that something was off, and they were perfectly right in thinking that, you didn't invite them for nothing. But even after everybody got their drinks and things started to get comfortable, you were waiting on one more guest. He showed up excruciatingly late, entered your home with a placid expression. You knew his tardiness was purposeful, considering that the entire fiftieth floor of Vought tower was his hunting ground.

"Stan Edgar." Your former team had remained congregated around the bar, but there was an immediate shift in their energy the moment they saw Edgar. You hovered at the opening in the bar counter, drink still in hand as you eyed the man with a steely glare.

"Phoenix," He greeted, eyes lifting and examining every other hero that stood around you. "You invited your former teammates as well, I see."

"We, uh..." Countess gulped, standing straighter, "We didn't know she had invited you too, Mister Edgar." Everyone looked at Phoenix, your eyes were flashing red and your glass was turned orange from the heat of your hand. You inhaled a deep breath and placed it down on the counter.

"The annual celebration of life is tomorrow. It's the only chance I had to get all of you losers together." You stepped into the open space where Edgar now stood. You stopped directly in front of him, you stared into his eyes. He didn't flinch, his face didn't wrinkle in fear, he didn't beg. He knew exactly why you called him here.

"Where have you been Phoenix?" He asked, a casual way about him, you swore that even the edge of his lips curled into a half smirk. He crowned his fingers in front of him. You had seen him here and there around the tower, he had aged significantly since he was in charge of the teams affairs. Now, he was promoted, an executive, taking charge on Vought's boards and in all of the slimy crevices where Vought hid their darkest secrets. He wore a business suit now in contrast to the laid back, expensive garbs you recall him wearing when you first met him. He looked as corrupted as his soul, a real life devil. "For months, the top floor has been trying to get in touch with you."

"Vacation." You stalked away from him toward the window, your boots making deafening thumps in the stark silence that followed.

"Have you forgotten that it's been my word that has kept you here all this time?" You gritted your teeth and tilted your head away from the view, eyes squeezing shut.

"Do you think I want to be here?" The venom was practically dripping from your teeth with every word, back still turned.

"Hmm," Edgar pretended to sound surprised. "You've given us no reason to think you don't." You didn't reply and your quiet forced Edgar to continue with a sigh. "The remaining members of Payback have been moved around, they have adjusted nicely to their new roles, but you remain, why do you think that is?"

"Vought is afraid of me. They're afraid of what I can do. Someone like me doesn't just get to walk away."

"Arrangements can be made." Edgar offered and then the realization of what he was doing came to you in a rush. You spun to face him, unable to contain your growl. The others were a distance away from you and everyone, aside from Noir, flinched. Even Edgar had a fear in his eyes that made you very pleased.

"You want to know where I've been, Mister Edgar?" Your demeanor shifted again, you clasped your hands behind your back, under your cape and chewed the inside of your cheek. "I've been thinking about all those years ago..." Your eyes met his. "When my team told me that he was dead."

"I know." Edgar replied firmly, he shrugged. "And what for? Why trudge up the past?"

"Because..." You glanced at Payback, at their confusion and fear. "They were lying. YOU..." You pointed at him, your eyes flashed. "Lied to me."

"Phoenix..." Countess started, "We never lied to you." Her words were practically a whisper, but it was so deathly quiet that everyone could hear what she said.

"Ya'know..." You closed your eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath. "I have been alive for sixty-four years and I have seen some fucked up shit, but this? This might just be the worst."

"What are you talking about?" Tessa, one of the twins, spat, but her body language betrayed her. She was afraid too. They all were.

"I was foolish enough to think it was a coincidence that I got sick. Right before one our first missions in a combat setting too." You faced Payback. "And then I thought some more..." You tapped your temple, "It was a really big coincidence that Soldier Boy ended up dead on that very same mission, the one that I wasn't there for." You cocked your head from side to side. "Me. The second strongest member on the fucking team."

"Phoenix-" Dan tried to interrupt, you continued.

"And then, I thought some more..." You paced. "Noir approached me a few weeks before that mission, before I was sick, and he asked me how I felt about Soldier Boy. Isn't. That. Weird?"

"You're overthinking this, Phoenix." Edgar lifted his chin, "Clearly, Soldier Boy's death has taken it's toll on you. Perhaps some therapy. We take the mental health of our heroes very seriously."

"Clearly..." You began fierce, your toes gently lifted from the ground, but you lowered yourself again. "I'm not as invincible as I thought. It took a lot of digging, but I figured it out."

"Okay, this has gotten out of hand!" Crimson had the bravery to step forward.

"Carbon Monoxide!" The room was drop dead again. You had caught them at their own idiotic game. "You fuckers were pumping it into my room. That's why no one ever visited me. And that's why when Vogelbaum came around he was always wearing a fuckin' mask."

"Phoenix, I think you should calm down." Edgar calmly suggested, you flared.

"Calm down?!" Your fists clenched, you had enough of this. "Soldier Boy has been somewhere in fuckin' Russia this whole time and you're telling me to calm down?!"

"We did what we had to do! He was out of control!" Dan explained, you could see he was shaking.

"He was the only person who understood how I felt and you fuckers took him away."

"He didn't care about you!" Countess shouted, "He didn't care about any of us!"

"He cared about me. He did."

"So, what's your plan then, Phoenix? What are we doing here? You found out what happened, what now?" Your eyes turned red for real this time, flames engulfed your fingers and Edgar was casually stepping back as if it was a day like any other.

"I'm going to kill you. All of you."

The first hit wasn't made by you. Crimson Countess threw a beam and before you could brace yourself you were being throw back into the heap of furniture at the far corner of your penthouse. It splintered and creaked, the flames from your body catching on fabric. You flew to the high ceiling and it crackled beneath your feet as you pushed off and darted down to her. Noir pounced on you after you tackled Countess, you easily threw him off and he went sliding into the corner. You could make out Mindstorm trying to get a good read on you and you knew you needed to focus on taking him out first, otherwise he'd be the one to put you out in seconds. Your fist put a hole through the marble floor when Countess rolled away from your punch. Noir kicked you in the head, you barely flinched at the blow despite the crack that sounded. Noir and Countess were more hands on, while Tessa and Tommy stayed away near Edgar, hands clasped between them as they waited for a good shot.

Noir got you into a neck lock, you were swinging about. When you flew up off the ground, Countess grabbed your ankle and yanked you down with what strength she did have. None of them could pin you for long though, you kicked her in the face and she was sent flying through the counter top of your kitchen. You spun rapidly to get Noir off your back, even bursting your entire body into flames, but he held on tight.

"This isn't going to resolve things, Phoenix." Edgar called from the seemingly safe spot that he had curled into. You removed a hand from the arm bar that Noir had around your neck and you threw a ball of fire to Stan, he dodged with a wide eyed and shocked expression, practically throwing himself to the floor to get away.

You managed to toss Noir off again, he smashed into the window and fell out, finding a grip at the edge. The high winds burst through, shattered glass spread out across the floor, your cape fluttered behind you and you faced the Twins, Dan, and a recovered Countess. Your chest heaved and smoke exited your lunges with every breath, you glared evilly at your foes.

"Don't make us do this!" Countess warned, your eyes turned red and flames rose up your arms.

"I'm not making you do anything..." You husked out, "You can just sit there." As you were whirling up a heavy wave of flames, the twins and Countess cast their beams at you. Noir jumped you from behind and held you in place. The entire penthouse went up in a massive explosion, smoke flowed from the open window, everything was destroyed, the marble floor filled with dents, cracks, and smudges of black. As the smoke dissipated, the dust cleared, you were rising slowly up from the floor. Noir was laid out flat, unconscious perhaps, you glanced at him to be sure. Countess was squatting, hands still branched out, blood dribbling from one nostril. The twins were propped back against the wall and Dan was hunched forward, arms shielding his head. Edgar was laid down in the corner, legs spread. He eyed you, scurried himself deeper into the wall. You scowled, with rushed strides you made way for him, about to fill your fists with his blood. Just as you were nearly there...

Mindstorm jumped out in front of you, your eyes caught his, the world disappeared around you.

You fell into the abyss.

...

"Phoenix..." His eyes raked over you like he was hungry, and not the kind of hungry where your stomach growls. "Not what I expected." You accepted his offered hand, you gave it a firm squeeze that even made his eyebrows lift. "Vogelbaum told me about you, a real spitfire."

"Soldier Boy. Vogelbaum told me about you too."

"Good things I hope?" Your hands returned and you both walked side by side through the sea of rich socialites that crowded the room. Light jazz music played in the background, you both were wearing your hero suits, visually putting you apart from the dozens of others dressed in expensive suits and sparkling dresses.

"As good as our profession would allow."

"Spoken like a pro."

"Well, I have been doing this for a while after all." He stopped and cocked his head at you, you turned to face him and smiled at the confusion written all over his face.

"Wait, what?"

"I got my first hero gig in the 60's. You're not the only one that's been around." He chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head.

"That's impossible. That would mean that you're-well-" He squinted at you. "How old are you?" You laughed, then twisted yourself and slowly began walking away.

"It's not gentlemanly to ask a lady her age." He followed after you like a lost puppy, immediately taking the space at your side and keeping a slow traipse with you.

"How come I've never heard about you before?" Soldier Boy was fascinated, wide eyed, intrigued beyond his own belief.

"Before Vought came up with this..." You stopped walking with a shrug. "Team up idea, I was operating on the West Coast."

"So, California?"

"Sometimes." He blinked at you, reeled back.

"Sometimes?" He questioned, you rolled your eyes but you still had that coy smile on your face.

"Vought sends me all over. If I fly fast it takes me about three hours to go cross country. I go where they need me, I guess." This time, he looked you over again with an entirely different energy about him. He nodded his head with approval and lifted his chin.

"Damn, not even Lady Liberty could fly that fast."

"Lady Liberty can't do half of what I can, hun." You were bragging, flirting, laying on all the charm. He was a hot piece, you weren't going to deny yourself a little taste.

"That would make you the most powerful woman on the planet."

"Most powerful person." You corrected slyly, he bit his bottom lip, the action made your toes curl in your boots.

"Oh, I'm sure we could put that to the test if you'd like." The both of you held a deep stare and just as you were about to reply, red manicured fingers were curling around Soldier Boy's bicep, interrupting the moment.

"Phoenix, I see you've met Soldier Boy." Soldier Boy didn't look away when you did, staring intensely at you as you directed your attention to a beaming Crimson Countess.

"Countess, it's good to see you. You look amazing!" You reached for her and the both of you embraced in a hug. Your stomach immediately dropped when you saw how clingy she was being with Soldier Boy and how he was unflinchingly accepting it. You trained your disappointment not to show, instead keeping a sweet rapport with someone you considered a good friend.

"Thank you! You too." You both fell into easy conversation back and forth.

In the distance, past waves of people, conversing, drinking, swaying to the music, you watched. Your heart was pounding in your chest, sweat beading on your brow. There was a blurry haze that clouded your vision, but your focus was solely on the scene playing out leagues ahead of you. You could hear every word, understand every cue. Meanwhile, your presence was absent to all others around you. No one saw you: the obvious dark aftermath of the Phoenix they knew. Lonely. Completely devoid of life. With an uncontrollable desire to die. Numerous people had passed through your being as if you were a ghost, a mere image, a shell of your former self. This was a dream. That was the only explanation you had. A cruel, cruel dream.

"Ben." You whispered to yourself, watching your separate visage deflate as Crimson told you about Soldier Boy and her being an item. The former Phoenix forced a smile, collected herself and patted Crimson on the shoulder in congratulations.

"You guys make a cute couple."

"Aww, thank you, you're too sweet." She stepped toward you and wrapped her arm through yours. "I'm so excited for us to work together. The Legend is already talking about getting a photoshoot with you, me, and Tessa." Soldier Boy defensively crossed his arms, his demeanor taking a major shift.

"If you ask me, women don't belong in the hero world." Countess scowled, you were slowly starting to notice the animosity between them.

"Are you seriously going to start this again?"

"Just saying..." Soldier Boy looked between you both. "Women are really only good for cooking, cleaning, taking care of the children..." He tilted his head and his shoulder twitched. "Sex." He added with a finishing smirk and a wink in your direction. Countess went to make some nasty comment in response, but Phoenix was already speaking up.

"That's the old ways talking. This is the new world. Female heroes are the future."

"Keep telling yourself that, hot stuff."

The bantering continued, entering into a more political discussion that you recall being very one-sided; With Soldier Boy making outrageous claims and you immediately disputing them with facts. Countess was silently standing there after that. Upon her first entering the space that Soldier Boy and you shared, you had been the third wheel. After a few minutes of talking, it became very evident that the third wheel had become her.

You stepped closer to the scene, the distant memory, the dream, whatever this was. You looked so much brighter then. You were practically glowing with life and happiness. Things seemed simpler. You had a job, you did your job, you were happy with your job. You felt supported and stronger than you had ever been. Those times, you missed desperately, to only feel as you had in your younger self. As you were taking tentative steps toward the past, another figure invaded your path with swift and confident strides. You immediately recognized the person as a young Stan Edgar.

"No." You spat, the sight of him unleashed a venomous reaction you hadn't anticipated in yourself. "NO!" You shouted, following after the man. You realized then that all of your powers were gone. You couldn't fly or shoot flames from your hands or, in this case, beat Stan Edgar to a pulp. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" He burst the invisible bubble forming around Soldier Boy and you, reminding both of you that you weren't alone or in a private setting.

"Hope you all don't mind my interruption."

"YOU DO! HEY!" You waved your hands around, swatted them at Soldier Boy. They ran through his image as if he was fog. You didn't exist to them.

"Stan. Not at all." Soldier Boy greeted, Edgar sent him a half nod and then continued.

"We were hoping to gather up Payback for a team photo."

"Of course, that would be so nice." Countess answered for the three of you. She grabbed onto Soldier Boy's arm.

"Perfect. Follow me."

"Ben!" You were backpedaling directly in front of Ben with every step he took, your former self and Countess at either side of him. "PLEASE! YOU CAN'T TRUST THEM! You can't trust-" You inhaled a sharp breath, tears ran down your cheeks. "BEN!" You stopped walking and the images ran through you, you dropped to your knees and your palms shot up to cover your face. Your sobs were muted, wracking your body with harsh twitches and shakes. The world vanished around you, and another image took it's place. You sniffled, wiping your tears away as you lowered your hands to get a better look at your new surroundings.

It was your old apartment. From way back in the day. Your first home inside a growing Vought tower. They didn't even have fifty or so floors at the time, but the board was determined to go taller than the Empire State Building. Everything was as you remembered it; 70's styled furniture, peach colored wallpaper, the eyesore of a tv in your living room, the fluffy yet itchy carpeting. You could hear muffled conversation, only growing louder as you watched your older self enter the home. You stood to your feet, eyes narrowed on the man following you in.

You remember him, you thought, he was a Vought executive. Someone with a big name. But you didn't care about any of that as much as you cared about getting a quick release. It was always easier to date or sleep around within company borders, you didn't have to worry about someone spreading rumors to the paparazzi or the news. They had to look out for their necks as much as they had to look out for yours. And Vought was very, very particular about news that traveled and where it traveled from.

"Wow, they set you heroes up big time." He commented, adjusting his tie. He was of average looks; slicked back hair, a nice smile, a freshly shaven face.

"You think this is nice? Wait until you see my mini-bar." You bit your bottom lip, closing the door behind him and giving him a lusty once over.

"Oh yeah?" He snorted nervously.

"It's in my room..." You closed in on him, grabbing him by the tie and yanking, he had no choice but to come forward. "If you want?"

"If I want?" He repeated back, "Like I would ever say 'no' to you." His hands fell to your hips, you pulled him closer till your lips were touching. You were moving fluidly together, lips parting over one another, tongues mingling together, swapping spit, a little awkward on his part, but enough to draw a low moan from you. As things were getting heated-

CRASH!

The door to your penthouse broke entirely off the hinges, falling flat onto the floor, splinters of wood exploding everywhere. Soldier Boy stepped over the door, fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight. The Vought exec was clinging to you for safety, putting your body between him and the door. You blinked at Soldier Boy in shock, before anger fell over you like a blanket.

"What the fuck?!"

"Who's this prick?" Soldier Boy hissed, gesturing at the man curled up behind you and using you as a shield.

"That's none of your fuckin' business! What do you think you're doing?!" You stepped forward, the man kept directly behind you, fingers clenched at your shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Ben shot back, grimacing when he followed your movements and approached as well.

"I'm trying to get laid, which is none of your business! Now get the FUCK out." Your eyes flashed red, the man winced and darted away from your body, he held at his hands. His palms were sizzling from the immense heat that had risen in you. He screeched and dropped to the floor. Neither Ben or you reacted, instead keeping your rage.

"Considering you turn me down at every turn, I'm thinking it is my business."

"YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!" You yelled in his face, at the top of your lunges, getting an inch too close.

"IT'S AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP!" He yelled back, Ben and you both knew that was a lie.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" You pointed at the door, shoving his shoulder, he only budged a little.

"HELP!" The man was rolling around on the floor, wiggling his burnt hands about.

"Look what you did!" You pointed at the poor guy, literal steam was coming off your skin you were so angry.

"What I did?! That was your fault!"

"Oh. There you go again! Always blaming it on me!" You stormed away toward your kitchen. "Can't take any accountability, can you? Ya' fuckin' asshole."

"You should take accountability for being a whore." He stomped after you, watching as you pulled a handle of cognac from beneath the countertop.

"Because I won't fuck you. Real classy!" You retrieved two glasses, pouring the orangey liquid into each glass.

You snatched up your chosen glass and sprawled forward into the counter, downing the glass in one go. Soldier Boy grabbed his glass, he eyed you with a sour expression, then sipped. Holding the empty glass up to your forehead, you sighed.

"We should probably do something about this guy."

"You don't want to know what I would do to him." Soldier Boy sassed, downing his own glass he limply dropped it back onto the counter.

"Fuck you." You grabbed the phone on the wall and made a call.

As you were intently following the movements of the past, the visage changed once more. You were surrounded by police cars, news trucks, standing in front of a bank. The alarms were going off, people were screaming inside as gunshots sounded. You were twisting around, trying to find out where you were. Instead, you spotted Soldier Boy conversing with the police chief. As he stepped toward you, a loud whistling split the sky, it went silent and everyone looked up. Soldier Boy kept walking, your former self was appearing from the clouds above, dropping down to the ground with a startling swiftness. He halted and you landed directly beside him, boots meeting the pavement with a thud.

"I fuckin' hate you." You growled, crossing your arms. Soldier Boy ignored you completely, squinting at the entrance to the bank.

"Seven hostages, three perps. We can go straight in, or we can take'em by surprise."

"I'm not really in the mood to prolong this, so let's just get it over with." You both calmly walked side by side up to the bank, Soldier Boy kept his shield posed at his side and a steely seriousness on his face. You trailed after them, desperate for another memory, for another feeling. Upon entering, Soldier Boy and Phoenix were both immediately bombarded with threats. Heavy duffle bags were stacked up over by the check-in desk, each perp had a handful of hostages. One of them had their gun held to the head of a woman, a bank teller, her eyes were red, filled with tears, makeup smudged down her cheeks, and gagged at the mouth with a tie. The robber's breathing was ragged, chest heaving with each pump of adrenaline, finger held on that trigger.

"Take one more step and the bitch gets a bullet!" He shouted, Soldier Boy and you froze, you glanced at each other. He was the first to shrug and look back to the robber.

"Okay." He said, completely nonchalant to the threat. The gagged woman whimpered at the prospect that she might die in that moment. That not even her heroes would save her. You couldn't find words, dumbfounded that Soldier Boy would even say such a thing. You stared at him for confirmation, he nodded to cue you in. He was going way off script that day.

"Y-Yeah..." You placed your hands on your hips and stood tall. "Go ahead and shoot." The robber did fire the gun, but next to her head and you knew her eardrum was blown out for it. You flinched, whereas Soldier Boy remained planted and terse.

"I'm not fuckin' around!" The robber yelled.

"And neither am I, stop being a pussy and keep to your word." The robber's eyes widened, you mirrored the man's expression and immediately sought to deescalate.

"The way I see it, you have two choices..." You gestured at them, "You kill the hostages and we kill all of you, or you let the hostages go and we take you in." Soldier Boy smirked, scoping out the men as they all shared uneasy glances.

"And either way, it's all the same for us."

"Except..." You emphasized the word through clenched teeth, directed at Soldier Boy, then added. "We much prefer that no one dies today."

There was a tense quiet that followed, a precursor to the chaos that erupted out of nowhere. All perps began unloading their magazines on Soldier Boy and you, little clinks and jingles sounded as the dented rounds fell to the floor one by one. The hostages that weren't gagged, screamed for their lives, ducking down as bullets seemingly came from every direction. Loud clicks started to sound, soon all of them were on empty. Soldier Boy and you looked down at the puddle of lead at your feet, then to each other. He smiled.

"They don't make dumb fucks like you anymore, do they?" Soldier Boy commented, you held your hand out to him and he grabbed it with his free hand.

"Our turn." You prompted, just as Soldier Boy twirled and easily took you with him, he tossed you at the main assailant. Your body was rolling through the air, landing directly against the criminal with a sickening crack. Soldier Boy jerked his hips and threw his shield at another. The last perp was trying to make a run for it. You had already killed the main one by breaking his neck and Soldier Boy's shield definitely left a mortal injury on the other. Usually, the two of you would keep one of them alive for the press opportunity of standing in front of a camera and smiling, like two hunters showing off a prized stag. But Soldier Boy made a dead sprint for the third, he had different intentions.

"Soldier Boy! Last one lives!" You reminded, but it was too late and he was tackling the man to the floor, pummeling his masked face in with a barrage of fists. After a few beats, he came to stand, blood spattered all across his face and the chest plate of his suit. "Was that really necessary?!" You shouted to him in annoyance, voice bouncing off the high ceilings of the bank, whimpers and sobs sounding in the background.

"I'm in a mood today, sweetheart, so shut your pretty little mouth."

"You think I wanted to be here either!" Neither of you anticipated a fourth male shooting up from behind the counter with a bomb vest and a trigger in hand.

"I'M LEAVIN' WITH MY MONEY OR NO ONE IS WALKING OUT OF HERE!!" Soldier Boy and you had moved ahead to stand beside each other. Your hands were on your hips, his bloodied fists dangled at his sides, you both carried a stone coldness about you.

"Listen, kid, did you not just see what happened?" Soldier Boy gestured at his three dead accomplices. "If you don't put that trigger down that will be you."

"If I push this button, everyone is gonna' die." The man was shaking to the core, you could see sweat collecting on his skin through the eye holes of his mask.

"Not us," You spoke up, "We won't feel a fuckin' thing. So, just put the trigger down. You're not accomplishing anything with this."

"Fuck you!" He yelled, lifting the trigger in the air. You weren't thinking, you flew fast and gathered him up in your arms. You shot up and crashed through the ceiling of the bank. The bomb went off just as you cleared the building, blood spattered all over, you were holding bits and pieces of a mutilated body in your hands. The fiery explosion disappeared in a haze of black smoke. After the initial shock of being covered in blood and guts, you were lowering yourself out in front of the bank. Your hands were still clinging to dead pieces of the perp, hostages were exiting the double doors behind you and sprinting into the safety of police officers and EMS.

"Phoenix!" Soldier Boy barreled out of the bank, nearly destroying the doors and pushing aside an innocent woman that was in his way. He cupped your cheeks and held you there, staring down at you, investigating you for any injuries.

"Soldier Boy, I'm fine!" You ground out, grabbing his wrists and prying yourself from his clutches.

"Don't ever do that again! Do you understand?!" He pointed an admonishing finger in your face, snarling at you.

"What?! It's not like I felt anything, I'm fine, okay? I saved everyone."

"You didn't communicate at all?!"

"There was no time to!" You chuckled in disbelief, palming your face. "Besides, you're the one over here not giving two shits about the hostages."

"You didn't actually think I was going to let those fuckers hurt them." He cocked his head at you, the corner of his lip tilted up in a charming smirk before he rolled his eyes. "Seriously, I would never allow that."

"Well, this isn't the first time." You elbowed his shoulder, then looked to the crowd. Aside from the officers and the hostages, news reporters were bursting at the seams to cross that tape and rush to Soldier Boy and you for an interview. They were already taking photos, despite the hefty distance, shouting your hero names. "I'm leaving." He grabbed your wrist, tethering you to the earth.

"Now hold on a sec, why don't we go get a drink? Unwind."

"I'm covered in blood..." You tore yourself away. "And the last thing I want is to be anywhere near you." He frowned, tonguing the inside of his cheek. The wind whistled as you ascended into the sky at full speed and disappeared into the clouds. His brilliant eyes followed after you.

Meanwhile, you were drifting through the bank doors, watching every aspect of these dreams that were swirling in your head. Soldier Boy faced you, he looked directly at you, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you looked behind you.

"You." He spat, taking those few steps till he was within arms reach. The space that separated you both burned, your head began to throb.

"Me?"

"Yes. You." His strong jaw clenched and his eyes darted up and down your figure. "You can't trust them." He muttered under his breath, "They're lying to you."

"What are you talking about? What do you mean?"

"Wake up..." His words bounced inside your skull, you were hunching forward, clutching your head. "Wake the fuck up..."

Everything surged toward you, a heavy breath filled your lunges and you were jolting upright on a metal examination table. You were struggling to catch your breath, a palm naturally finding purchase at your chest to ease the pressure.

"Phoenix." Your eyes darted in the direction of the voice, Vogelbaum and a nurse were standing a safe distance away at the corner of the room. "Calm yourself." He smiled, it turned your stomach. "Everything is okay."

"W-What-" You were wearing a hospital gown. Your double vision focused until you were staring at Vogelbaum again. You blinked at him, eyes drifting shut, out of your control. "What happened?" You groaned, he turned his back to you.

"A gas valve went off in your penthouse. It's making headlines right now. You missed Soldier Boy's celebration of life."

"Gas valve?" You sat up straighter, weakly so, glancing around the room. It was all white, a lab of sorts, familiar to you from experiences that you had ages ago. You tried to prop yourself up on an elbow. "Soldier Boy?" You wiped your hand down your face. "W-What?"

"The blast knocked you unconscious." He turned to you, then started placing a bunch of stickies on your body, starting with your temple, then your collarbones, then your wrists and onward.

"What's going on?" Your voice trembled.

"Stay calm." Vogelbaum expressed, he cupped your cheek when he was done and smiled at you. "You're safe. This isn't like when you were sick."

"But how did I get knocked out? I-I-I've taken countless explosions."

"Well, you're getting old. It's normal to experience some wear and tear."

"Hmm..." You dropped your head into a palm and sighed. "I missed Soldier Boy's celebration?"

"Yes," He grabbed a clipboard, the nurse that was with him began clipping on a bunch of wires to the circular stickies, they were attached to a machine on a rolling cart. "Do you uh-remember him?"

"Soldier Boy." You propped your chin under your fist and nodded your head, a vision came over you and you were staring off into nothingness. "Yes." You gulped, shaking your head.

"Could you..." He waved two fingers at you. "Describe the day he died to me?" As you tried to collect yourself, flashes of lights and blurs filled your head.

"I uh-" Your eyebrows furrowed, the nurse flipped a switch and a short whizzing noise sounded. "Only recall bits and pieces." You shook your head, narrowed your eyes on him. "Why does that matter?"

"You were comatose for several days. You experienced a concussion," He dismissed. "I'm making sure that your brain is functioning to it's fullest capacity." He pulled up a stool and plopped down in front of you. "Phoenix, tell me what you remember about that day."

"Um..." You bit your tongue, itched your temple. "Soldier Boy and I went on a team-up. One of the Nuclear Power plants in Ohio. We saved as many people as we could. Ben told me to..." You felt a lump form in your throat. "He told me to go on ahead. The plant exploded and when I found him, he was a shell of himself. He died in my arms."

"Fascinating..." Vogelbaum mumbled, head buried in the clipboard as he scribbled notes. You glared at him and he got the message.

"What I mean is..." He tapped his pen at the paper. "It's fascinating that your brain recovered so much from the incident." You blinked at him, confused by whatever he was trying to hide. You knew he was lying to you, you could feel it. You just couldn't figure out why. "When you were under, your brain activity was off the charts. What was going on?"

"I-" You inhaled a deep breath. "I was dreaming about the past, I guess..." You snorted, shaking your head, eyes widening. "But it was like I was looking in, I wasn't apart of those memories."

"Interesting." His pen raced across the clipboard as he jotted down his thoughts.

"Look. I don't want to be here. When can I leave." He stood up, patted you on the shoulder.

"Sadly, we'll have to keep you under observation for a few more days." The nurse turned the machine off, it powered down with that same whizzing sound.

"I'll break out of here, then." Vogelbaum held his hand up, it did little to keep you from getting off of the metal table.

"Now, there's no need for that Phoenix. What's a few days to make sure that you're okay?" You sent him an uneasy grimace, then crossed your arms.

"Fine, but only a few. I'm not staying here longer than a week." You began unclipping the wires, "Scratch that. You've got two days."

"Okay," Vogelbaum nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard again. "I can do two days. Mind if I run a few more tests?" You collected the wires in your fist and tossed them to the nurse, who fumbled catching them all as they hit her chest.

"Not at all. I love being violated in every which way." Vogelbaum snorted, you sent him a sardonic look. His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, he waved at the nurse.

"Jenny, would you give us a moment." As Vogelbaum passed you, you caught a reflection of yourself in the mirrored glass; two way, you were being watched. Nothing you were new to, you had been in this same position before. The metal door creaked as Jenny rolled the machine out of the room. It made a resounding thump when it shut behind her. The door must had been heavy, inches thick even. For something so minor as a bump to the head, Vought was taking some serious precautions.

"Phoenix, let's talk. Just you and me."

"This another test?" You itched the side of your neck, your fingers catching on one of the stickies on your skin. You began to peel it off, feigning a calm and collected outward appearance. Inside, your body was screaming, your head was pounding, you could feel a weight heavy in your chest. Your anxiety was getting worse with each passing second and you couldn't figure out why.

"Perhaps." He sat on the stool again, clipboard forgotten in the crook of his arm. "I know it's been a tough year-"

"Okay, we're done here." You rose to your bare feet, about to take your leave, removing stickies aggressively as you went.

"I'm trying to help you, but you have to work with me." You stopped at the metal door, with your back to him, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head.

"I'm tired."

"I know." You rested your forehead to the metal. "The depression hasn't gotten better, I'm assuming." You turned to him, arms crossed in a defensive stance, then shook your head. "I've created something that might help." He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and procured a bottle of pills.

"Don't you know by now that medicine doesn't work on me." You said lowly, eyeing the orange bottle.

"This will. It's more potent than any drug you've ever taken, I tuned it specifically to you." He offered it toward you, "And I guarantee, it's going to make you feel very, very relaxed." You accepted the bottle, looking between his all too friendly smile and his creation raveled in your vice grip. "Try. For me?"

"Okay..." You bit your bottom lip. "I'll try."

Return to Master list

[corn-fanfiction]

SAVIOUR COMPLEX (Mark Hoffman x F!Reader) (Pt. 15)

(Part 14) (Part 16)

Rating: M

AN: IM SO SORRRYYYYYYY when I tell you life has been busy I mean BUSY. But here's part 15!!! Please forgive me!!! Please!!!!!!!!

Warnings: canon-typical violence

After everything, after all this time, the surmounting self help and therapy and books and house plants and hobbies and keeping yourself happy and distant, the first and only thing you can think,

What did I do?

What did I do what did I do what did I do?

What could you possibly have done to deserve this? Waking up on a concrete floor that's covered in dark stains of questionable origin, though you have some sickening inkling. The low lighting, distant hum of electricity, metallic tang to the air…you know exactly where you are, even if you don't know why.

You know even before the voice crackles to life over a speaker above you.

“Hello y/n. I'd like to play a game.”

Despite your premonition you still choke on a sob. You didn't even have enough time between awakening and the reveal to have false hope. That this is a mistake.

“This is no traditional game, however.”

Dramatically, a blinding spotlight switches on. It reveals cell bars surrounding you, next to you, and then you hear the groan of Mark waking up, iron bars between you.

“You've taken Mark Hoffman as your lover despite the mounting evidence that he is a killer…”

Mark stirs, finds your eyes.

“...And he is.”

No. No no no no no no

But even Mark's eyes speak the truth.

“He killed Ted, and many before him, and he will continue to do so, unless you stop him.”

You can barely hear the continued directions. Distantly, you're aware of the question of who is plotting this show if Mark is the Jigsaw killer, but all you can focus on is the hollow point of betrayal that's widening in your chest as each second ticks torturously by. And with each tick, Mark isn't denying any of it.

“However, my goal is twofold. If you survive your test, you will be able to bring Mark Hoffman to justice. You will let the world know what he has done.”

So what are you guilty of? Love? Being fooled yet again? Were you willfully ignorant? No, that couldn't be it. You knew what you knew and nothing pointed to-

But it did. At the end of it all, you know what a coin toss looks like. You had a 50/50 shot. You just chose wrong.

Still, is that a death sentence?”

“If you do not survive your test…Mark Hoffman will have one more thing to hate himself for, and he will be exposed.”

And Mark does look like he hates himself in this moment. But not as much as the hole in your chest is filling with hate for him.

“The only difference is your survival.”

He could be getting framed. It could be a massively complicated and constructed lie to set him up for failure, prison, death.

Then deny it. Please. Before I hate you beyond repair.

His silence is earth shattering.

“Here is your task….

You will have three minutes once your cell door unlocks. In the room with you is a phone. It is simple enough. Make a call. Turn Mark in. Free yourself of this misfortune you continue to find yourself in.

But.

You will have to survive Mark Hoffman.”

Your head turns and, similar to that night after you saw someone outside your bedroom window- presumably whomever is speaking to you now- you realize with a terror instead of comfort Mark's build. Despite his injury, which seems to have been somewhat repaired, he can easily take you.

Why have you so suddenly accepted your task? So easily accepted Mark's guilt and, by association, yours as well?

Because it does make sense. And unfortunately, yet again, you're reminded of the one rule you seem to consistently forget throughout your life.

People lie.

“If you do not make the call by the end of the timer, a lethal gas will deploy, killing you both. Live or die. Make your choice.”

The cell door clicks and for an indeterminate moment of time, you and Mark stare at each other, both of you crouched to the ground. The air hums with the vibrations of tension, almost animalistic. You don't know for certain what he'll do, but you know what you'll do. And so does he.

You don't bother to look at the door before you bolt to it. It flies open and your legs carry you fast towards a table where the phone sits. You're smaller and uninjured so you're faster than he is. The sound of him cursing and bounding towards you sends your heart into a vice panic. He'll break you if he gets you. You'll die here. It's been him all along. He won't spare you if it doesn't mean escape.

Your hand extends to the phone but you're knocked to the ground just out of reach. He's barrelled into you with his good shoulder. You brace for further impact but none comes. Mark stands over you. Behind his shoulder, a timer ticks down in bright red numbers.

“You want us both to die?” You wheeze, still trying to recover the air that was knocked from you. “You don't want to kill me. And prison doesn't have to mean death for you, either. Not with them,” you point towards the darkness of the ceiling, referring to your captor.

Mark huffs and shakes his head. “I can't let you make that call.”

You push yourself to stand. A minute gone.

“There's no other option. Mark. Please. Let's set this right.”

“I didn't kill these people, and I'm not going to jail for it. They'll kill me.”

“And then we will both die! I don't care what you say. I'm ending this.”

You go to the phone, entirely convinced he won't stop you. But right when your hand grips the receiver, Mark has his arm around your neck in a chokehold. Instinct screams at you to free both your hands to counter but you have the good sense to consider the phone in your hand a weapon. Your free hand shoots up to scratch his face, pull his hair, distract him as you pick up the base to the phone and bash it against the side of his head. He releases you, stumbles back.

You push yourself forward. Try to move away as best as you can and punch in 9-1-1 at the same time.

“911, what's the location of your emergency?”

“I don't know, I-”

Pulled again. Forced to the ground and the headset flies from your hand. And suddenly, in a way that is wholly surprising to you despite it all, Mark is straddling your chest. The phone cord is stretched taut in his hands.

“There has to be another way out of here. I don't wanna hurt you.”

He sounds like he means it, but you can't take that chance.

“You already have,” you whisper.

“Whoever put us in here killed Ted, don't you get that? Probably Jigsaw accomplices, like Amanda Young. They'd have to be twisted enough to do this to us.”

Any fight you're giving begins to settle as you digest his words, their logic wedging its way into your brain. The possibility of him being framed seeps back into your mind.

“I didn't kill Ted. I promise.”

He's seeing you work through this in your mind. But something about that sentiment sticks.

“Mark-”

“I don't know how to prove it to you-”

“Mark. Are you a murderer?”

“No, I didn't kill any of those people.”

He's working his jaw. He's growing impatient.

“Will you let me up, please? The cops have likely traced the call by now. The only thing we can do is wait.”

He hesitates but eventually shifts so you can stand. The phone still lays discarded on the floor but you doubt it matters anymore.

“I didn't kill-”

“Any of those people. I know.”

You've made it abundantly clear.

Maybe Mark didn't kill Ted. Maybe it wasn't him in these recent murders. But there has to be a reason Gibson and Perez believe he's capable of the past Jigsaw killings.

The possibility now, the mere likelihood puts you on edge. It doesn't really matter since the police will be here soon. But you keep your distance.

You hear the sirens. Mark is staring holes into your head. You inhale, exhale. He's still in his bloodied clothes, gripping his injured side, hair in his face, breathing ragged.

From here, he certainly looks like a killer.

[albatmobile]

Cardinal Sins Chapter 9

𓅪 Living with your vigilante boyfriends for the past year has been amazing, well, almost. Butting heads, old wounds resurfacing and a deadly threat still looming overhead could threaten the sanctity of everything you've ever fought for. Will you finally overcome your tainted past and survive the trials and tribulations, or will your relationships and your faith crumble under the pressure?

Rated: M | 5.6k | Contains: court of owls meeting fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist] Previous in Series: Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds

Chapter Nine: Through Me (The Flood)

You thought, perhaps if Jason could get past what Bruce did to him in the garage, with him having forgiven Bruce in the past for far worse, that maybe you could try to forgive your parents. When you bring this up to your partners, however, you’re not met with the support you’d been expecting.

“You know you don’t have to make up with them, right?” Jason asks.

The three of you are currently cuddling in bed after having put a petulant Lian down for a nap. The poor little thing was so tired that she didn’t even realize just how tired she was until her head hit the pillow six pages into her new favorite book. 

“Yeah,” you shift to face him so now your back is flush against Roy’s chest with your front is pressed against Jason’s, “but, I mean, both of you guys have tried to make up with your parents.” You shrug. The ‘you always make up with Bruce’ doesn’t quite leave your lips, but you know both of them must be thinking it as well. “Maybe I should try to do the same.”

It’s quiet. Neither of them had expected this when you led them to the bedroom mere moments prior, but you can’t deny that it’s been weighing heavily on your chest. Especially after that luncheon yesterday. 

“Some people don’t deserve forgiveness,” Roy replies cautiously. His soft hands trace up and down your arms, as he and Jason have a silent conversation through their eyes alone. Though you could easily follow along with the nonverbal conversation, you’re far too tired. Yesterday had drained everything out of you.

“And what if one day that applies to you? You wouldn’t want anyone to try to forgive, anyway?” you ask before you can think better of it. “Bruce said there’s no redemption with certain people. I get that, but there’s no redemption if you never try.”

“But you have tried,” Jason says.

“It was the heat of the moment!” you exclaim, trying to reason against the words that have been streaming through your head for the past few days. “Now that everything has calmed down, it could be different,” you trail off, sounding unconvincing to even yourself. 

“At the end of the day, you’re the only one who truly knows them, so you know what's best,” Roy says. It seems like he’s said this before because Jason’s eyes flash with familiarity. “Just don’t forget you have other family.”

You sigh, taking in his words, “Yeah, I have you guys and I love that, but-"

Before you can finish, Jason cuts you off. “Bruce considers you one of his own. Has for a while, too,” he admits with a slight grumble. The grumble isn’t from anger, you know that the entire subject makes him uncomfortable and you know it must’ve been hard for him to tell you. Regardless of what Bruce said in the Batcave about you being one of them, Jason’s words make it all seem real. 

“How do you know?” you ask. You don’t want to push the subject too much and risk upsetting Jason, especially after what happened in the garage, but you need to know. 

Jason clears his throat and quickly focuses on anything but you and Roy, “Told us while you were…” He can’t even bring himself to say the word. “While you were gone.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly. 

You don’t know what to do with this information, all things considered. You’ve finally, officially, been included in the Bat Family, but at what cost? You still don’t even know how Jason can face Bruce after the blatant disrespect Bruce showed him in the garage. It’s a double-edged sword. Acceptance at the price of everything secure you’ve known shifting into something that makes you feel like maybe you’ve never known Bruce. The answer only makes you question everything even more than before.

“Yeah,” Jason trails off awkwardly. Meanwhile, Roy watches the entire interaction with an unreadable look on his face as if he’s mentally preparing himself for an argument to come, but it doesn’t. 

You briefly mention having to stuff down the panic you felt and how overwhelming the whole pool party was. They comfort you instantly and tell you how strong you are, though you still find yourself doubting their words. A problem for later, you suppose, as something else has been tainting your thoughts, realizing Jason was in the same boat as you yesterday.

“What happened in the garage,” you start, but Jason’s stark, emerald eyes shooting upward toward you stop you in your tracks. Regardless of his intimidating nature, you continue with what’s been on your mind ever since, “That should never have happened. I’m sorry.”

It’s quiet for so long that you end up looking over at Roy for reassurance, however the redhead’s very much focused on Jason’s growing reaction. You turn back to him, watching as his eyes grow distant and his brows furrow. 

You open your mouth to speak again, letting him know he doesn’t have to talk about anything he’s not comfortable with. After all, his relationship with Bruce has always been seemingly just between the two of them. 

“Bruce has always treated me like his personal punching bag,” Jason says in a rush, as if he hadn’t been planning on speaking at all. When he realizes his words have slipped, he swallows audibly before continuing, “He always said that, “I could handle it” or some shit probably because of what he knows I’ve done on the streets. I knew what it really was, though. How he acts toward me is all about sending a message to the other Bats about what would happen if they ever stepped out of line. You know, if they ever became like me,” Jason continues gruffly. “Dick is his partner, Tim is his right-hand man, Damian, his son. Me? Well,” he pauses, finally looking at you as he does so, “I’m his greatest failure.”

“Jason,” you breathe, taking his hands into your own. He refuses slightly at first, then allows the contact. 

“I know I always warned you about him in the past because I didn’t want you to get hurt like me,” Jason admits. “That doesn’t mean I wanted you to find out like this, though.” Jason stares down at your conjoined hands. You think he’s finished until he speaks again, looking you directly in the eyes as he does. The intensity behind his emerald eyes stun you into silence as you take in his next words earnestly. “People like you and me? We don’t owe a man like that shit. You hear me? We don’t need him.” He squeezes your hands gently to cement his point further. “And you know what? We’ll never need him because we have each other. We both came from nothing, but we made our own family,” he pauses as if gauging your reaction before continuing, “and we didn’t rely on some fucked up code of honor to decide who matched the definition and who didn’t. That’s the difference.”

Whatever title you’ve bestowed upon him in your mind, regardless of the doubt and contingencies he’s thrown your way, you should have no doubt that your real family is right here with you,” Jason gestures to Roy, “you don’t need bruce to fill some fucked quota.” 

It’s becoming clear that he’s saying this for himself as much as it is for you. He’s in too deep and you’ve barely scratched the surface, it seems. Though, his words only serve to make you more confused. Why does he continue to forgive Bruce? Why do they keep doing the same song and dance when the outcome is always the same- always catastrophic and unforgivable?

If you thought you finally figured out the definition of family before, you definitely don’t know it now.

The actual answer, of course, is simple. Jason wants love and acceptance, whereas Bruce wants obedience and loyalty. He wants a soldier when all Jason’s ever been looking for, all you’ve ever been looking for, is a father. Though you know he’s not perfect, he’s all the two of you have known. It’s hard to escape this fact, let alone the struggle that comes with it. You know Jason sticks around because he still secretly hopes that Bruce’s promises will come true, that there won’t be the hot and cold and a lesson learned, then repeat. After all, it’s the only somewhat stable structure Jason’s ever known. No matter how much Jason wants to, how can he just turn away from it? How can you? There’s no easy answer and there’s definitely no right answer in a fucked up situation like this.

When he doesn’t say anything about the topic further, you and Roy drop the topic, electing to spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed.

•••

Regardless of their kind words surrounding your parents, part of you can’t deny that you still want to at least try with them. 

The next day, you find yourself at the very prison you helped lock them away in. Whether it’s because of this or because you were never close with them, they reject your visit request, and you’re turned away.

So much for forgiveness.

•••

Preparation for the elusive Court of Owls meeting has been as thorough as it can be when you only have a week to prepare for it. This includes scouting out the area ahead of time, making sure the punk from Stacked Deck hasn’t opened his mouth and, personally, your favorite part, the disguises.

The last time you’d dressed up for an event this stuck-up had been for the Wayne Gala and, well, everyone knows how that went. Tonight, you’re definitely more prepared than you’d been back when you were 15. You slip into your slinky, black, floor-length dress (X) with ease and shove the owl masks that Roy had 3D printed into your purse. You’re each donning comms; yours in the form of your earrings and them in the form of their cuff links. Aside from this, you’re completely on your own. Both Bruce and Damian refused to be a part of what they'd dubbed a “suicide mission.” 

The three of you arrive at exactly 11 PM at a warehouse eerily close to the one Jason and Roy had been poisoned in three days prior. If anything, it only secures that the information you got is correct.

Walking across the desolate parking lot, your group encounters a door where a group of three well-dressed Gothamites stand outside. A peephole in the door slides open to reveal a man in an owl mask, who the group seems to talk with before being allowed inside.

“Did the dude mention anything about a code word?” Roy asks, sounding slightly nervous as you get nearer to the door. He puts on his glasses, which he’s specially crafted to map out their headquarters to give you a better idea of where the emitter might be stored.

You can’t help but smirk at his anxiousness. “All good.” You watch as Roy breathes out a sigh of relief, then quickly seems to grow anxious again once you hand Jason and him their masks. Wordlessly, the three of you don them with silent well-wishes for the mission.

It should be in and out. You know, get the information and get the fuck out type of situation. You know you can handle it, but you can’t help but carry the weight of both Damian and Bruce’s reluctance when it comes to the crowd you’ll be attempting to blend into tonight.

“We’re set?” Jason asks as he fiddles with his cuff links. Is he nervous, too? 

You gulp. Maybe this wouldn’t be as easy as you’d previously thought…

When you reach the door, you follow what the previous group had done and lean in to give the code word the informant at The Stacked Deck had supplied you with. As you go to tell the man, it dawns on you that the informant could’ve easily supplied you with a word that could end up being a trap, but decide to say it anyway.

“Repentance,” you say in a manner you hope comes off as cool and collected. Inside, your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage that you can feel it along your subconsciously clenched jaw. Your hands make to wring themselves, but you stop them just in time.

The man’s face is unreadable through the peephole and his mask, leaving you bracing for whatever happens next. Instead of being swarmed by Court Assassins like you’d been fearing, the heavy door abruptly groans as it’s pushed open to allow your group inside. You give a brief nod the man’s way before stepping directly into the den of the enemy. 

To be less conspicuous, your group dissolves as soon as you step through the threshold as the three of you split up to find clues. 

Your heart is still pounding as you will yourself not to release the exhale that’s been wedged in your throat ever since you got here. A masked man with a tray of champagne approaches you and you delicately take a glass, hoping this simple action hasn’t blown your cover. The waiter moves on swiftly, once again relinquishing your worries.

Alone and completely surrounded by the enemy, both Damian and Bruce’s words trill on repeat through your head. To rid your brain of these thoughts, you begin flit about and try to fit in with the most influential people in Gotham. 

A few people stop by here and there, mainly just small talk, nothing you can’t handle. All the while, you watch as the room steadily fills until the entire stone church-like building is packed to the brim with formal wear and owl masks. Seeking relief from the growing crowd, you slip off to the nearest room to you on the left. Inside the quaint study, a fire is lit and casts a cozy glow against the ornate furniture adorning the room. 

Though there are people in the room with you, most seem content to smoke and play their card game as you stare down the oddly dancing flames. The thought causes you to quirk your head. Upon closer inspection, the flames don’t even appear to be coming out from the logs but rather spring up from a glass-like substance underneath the logs.

Odd.

What’s even odder is the barely noticeable uniform crack that runs along the back of the outter right corner of the fireplace. You try to inconspicuously get closer to test out your theory that this is a false door when a commanding voice enters the room followed by a gaggle of followers.

Everyone’s in much of the same black-and-white, formal attire with the same basic, white owl masks, but not this man. No, the man at the center of the group is adorned in head-to-toe black, with his black mask blending seamlessly into his comic-book-looking suit. Strapped to his back are two large swords and his hands are covered by black, clawed gloves. Whoever this man is, he seems important. Was this Grandmaster?

“How are we to allow this nonsense?” one of the men asks angrily.

“Surely you see our side,” another adds in a rushed whisper.

“You’re right. I don’t see the logic behind putting trust in a madman to lead,” the man replies conversationally, though his volume is low enough that you can only barely pick up on it. “This… direction Grandmaster has us heading in,” he trails off as if pensively, though it appears he already very much knows what he’s going to say next, “it’s too largely focused on vengeance rather than our namesake. This pettiness is not what the old Court was about.” When he’s met with murmurs of agreement from his owl posse, he continues, “I know we’re meant to fuck over the clown in the end, but what’s to be said of the person who put him in charge in the first place?” 

Apparently, while in your daze of eavesdropping, the previous inhabitants of the room fled, leaving you to stick out like a sore thumb to the newcomers. 

Play it cool, play it cool.

The rest of the men crowding the black-masked man continue to squabble in hushed tones, but the man’s attention now solely focuses on you. 

Play it fucking cool.

“And what of you? What do you think?” he asks suddenly.

He has no idea who you are. There’s no fucking way he knows.

Breathe. Check. Breathe again. Check. Swallow around the lump in your throat? You choke. You politely excuse your coughing, looking up to see everyone’s eyes, well, masks, on you. You channel your mother’s pompous behavior as you straighten, fixing yourself briefly as you gracefully stride closer to the parliament. 

“We are amongst friends, aren’t we?” you reply in lieu of an actual response. You’re buying time and you hope they can’t see it.

“That we are,” the man in black replies. Though the other men’s faces are covered, they clearly seem confused, if not irritated, that their friend has even bothered to ask you.

“I think that we should keep it that way.” You fear your response is lackluster, if not completely irrelevant to his actual question, considering you don’t know the plan, but he simply nods as he comes over to clap you firmly on the shoulder. He makes to speak, but before he can respond, a man shuffles in to announce the beginning of the meeting.

You shoot the fireplace one last glance before joining the masses. Part of you subconsciously looks for Jason and Roy, though your attention is quickly drawn to the balcony of the ballroom you’d originally entered. Here, you come face-to-face with Grandmaster, the leader of The Court of Owls.

Decked out in a hooded, black robe, the large man makes his way to the edge of the balcony. He looks over the completely filled room below as he grasps his gloved hands around the railing. Suddenly, from beside him, the man you’d spoken to in the other room joins to the right of Grandmaster. Just who was Grandmaster’s right-hand man?

Grandmaster is the only one to break the black-and-white tie theme with his creme colored suit, though, unlike the man beside him, Grandmaster’s mask is the same as everyone else in attendance. 

“Talon,” Grandmaster’s modulated voice speaks up against the low murmur from the crowd around you, “begin.”

The man beside him, Talon, steps to the side to present Grandmaster a lamb. You really don’t want to watch this sick shit, so you close your eyes, opening them only when Grandmaster offers a toast with a chalice dripping in fresh blood. 

“For our vision,” Talon says.

You have to hide your startled reaction to the waiter who suddenly appears beside you to hand you a glass also filled with a red liquid. Oh, you’re going to absolutely puke. There’s no fucking way you’re drinking…

A subtle sniff, however, proves this to be wine. Thank fuck.

So, this was the man Damian had warned you about. The man who’d manipulated him.

“For our vision!” Grandmaster exclaims, pushing his chalice into the air, signaling those around you to do the same. You follow in suit, raising your glass as you try your best not to look at the people around you. You need to stay in character and, after all, looking confused isn’t part of that.   

“Our vision!” the crowd chants in unison. 

“Now, I’m sure you’ve all heard rumblings of what’s to come. I’m sure many of you have questions about our plan and I know we’ve left you in the dark on our newest partners, but I want to reassure you of The Court’s mission. We are here for the betterment of our city. We are Gotham,” Grandmaster finishes, allowing time for murmurs of agreement. “This entire plan is about getting back what we are owed. This is about repentance, no matter the cost. This being said, our society is not lost. We are not straying from the mission of our founders, no,” his modulated voice rings out, “Though we’re not straying, we are welcoming a new era of The Court. The kind of Court that no longer hides in the shadows but one that makes sure the people of Gotham know who controls them. It’s because of this era that we’ll finally, permanently,remove the blights in this great city for its betterment and it's all thanks to you,” Grandmaster finishes, gesturing with wide arms to the crowd below. 

This has been a long time coming,” Grandmaster continues. If the speech is anything to go by, it’s clear that in the months following the break-in at Wayne Enterprise, The Court has been working hard to get whatever this plan is into motion. “The Court of Owls would be nothing without our generous benefactors. I’m sure by now you’ve heard rumors of newcomers and I want to use this as an opportunity to put you all at ease. It’s true that this decision was not made lightly, but I assure you that these Gothamites share our same vision. Truly, we’d be nothing without their invaluable help. While these contributors are not full members of The Court yet, come our next meeting on April 1st, they’ll be fully inducted,” Grandmaster pauses briefly to allow for cheers. “Together, we’ll be unstoppable,” he states. “Come next month, everyone will know our name. We’ll no longer be a cautionary tale to children but a very real threat to all.” Once again, Grandmaster raises his chalice. “To us!” The crowd repeats his words, toasting their glasses into the air with you following right alongside them. “To our destiny!”

From here, Grandmaster finishes the liquid in his cup before quickly retreating back to where he’d emerged from, with Talon dutifully following behind Grandmaster’s black cape.

The crowd quickly dissipates as everyone wordlessly flows into what you assume is the dining room to be served dinner.

For the first time that night, your comms ring out with Jason’s voice telling Roy and you to reconvene at your meeting point two blocks away. Slipping out into the night air, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just gotten away with something massive and, upon thinking on it further, you suppose you have. After all, who else in the Bat Family can say they’ve gone undercover in The Court of Owls?

The building you’ve chosen as a makeshift base is a law office that you’d snuck into a few days prior in order to stash civies in a random filing drawer. Roy already has the building’s security feed on a loop, meaning the three of you are completely off the grid. 

You go to drop your dress to change, but Roy stops you. 

“You look good, princess,” he says with evident arousal. “Really good.”

You can’t help but laugh as he corrals you against the nearest desk, planting his hands on either side of your thighs to trap you. 

“We may not be in costume, but we’re still on a mission,” Jason replies sternly as he slips into the jeans and red hoodie you left for him.

“When has that ever stopped us?” Roy asks cheekily, referencing your earlier run-in with Poison Ivy’s pollen. His chapped lips brush against your neck now, as if begging Jason to say he really wants this to end.

“I said stand down,” Jason responds gruffly as he stops menacingly behind Roy, leaving the redhead to inadvertently straighten at the raven’s presence. You can’t help but bite at your lower lip as you watch Roy and Jason take each other in before, finally, Roy gives in and steps away from you with a chaste kiss against your jaw, then lips. 

“Sorry, baby,” Roy manages through his wolfish smirk. “I got you later, though and that’s a promise.” He shoots a coy wink your way, leaving your cheeks to flush with heat.

With this, Jason throws Roy his sweats and muscle-tank along with a beat-up trucker hat Roy insists on wearing. Before the three of you can leave, Jason suddenly pulls Roy flush against his muscular chest and into a messy, teeth-clacking kiss that leaves Roy absolutely flustered.

“You good?” you tease the redhead with a nudge as the two of you trail behind Jason’s commanding form.

“Like you’re any better when it comes to him,” Roy snorts, though his blush remains as he returns the nudge. “Traitor.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” you say as you flick at his freckled nose, which he easily emulates. This continues until the two of you are roughhousing on the curb of one of Gotham’s most dangerous street corners.

Jason ignores the childish behavior behind him as he continues across the street to where he’s stashed his motorcycle. 

“Would you two hurry the fuck up?” Jason gripes, though the look he throws over his shoulder is filled with subtle mirth.

By the time you’re zipping back into the parking garage of your apartment, you’re ready to get this debrief over with so you can go the fuck to bed. You relieve Steph of her babysitter post, sending her off with a hug before the three of you settle on the sectional to rehash everything.

“So,” Roy trails off as he dramatically falls onto the couch, arms spread out along the top of it. You and Jason easily settle on either side of him. “Crazy mission, right?”

You snort, “For sure. I can’t tell you how many times I thought I was going to shit my panties.”

“Panties?” Roy waggles his fiery brows. “Nice.”

“Jesus,” Jason breathes. “Are we sure the two of you weren’t poisoned with pheromones?”

“I didn’t drink the Kool-Aid if that’s what you’re worried about, Jay,” Roy teases lightly. “The two of you just look really good in formalwear, can’t help that it makes me horny. ‘Specially not after we haven’t fucked in like a week.”

“Roy,” you say as you face him incredulously, “it was two days ago.”

He just huffs, “Practically a week at this point.” Much to Roy’s chagrin, he’s met with playful pushes from either side of him from Jason and you.

“Whatever, horn dog,” Jason replies flippantly. “I didn’t get shit on Grandmaster all night. He came straight out of his guarded chambers and went straight back into them as soon as he was done with the announcement.” Upon finishing, Jason looks expectantly towards Roy and you. 

“I managed to map out the place,” Roy says. The redhead pulls a Nintendo-Switch-looking device out of his sweats before tapping the screen in a few places to get the map to load on the small screen. “Managed to get the inside of Grandmaster’s chambers and everything. Only one small hiccup,” Jason and you sit up slightly at this, “there was one area that didn’t respond well to the program.”

“What does that mean?” Jason asks.

“Nothing bad,” Roy reassures him, “just an oddity in one of the rooms. It could mean anything from a faulty read to a hidden area.”

At this, you perk up. “Was this the room off to the left?” you ask, shifting to better see the screen.

“Mhm,” Roy murmurs, concurring. “You find something, baby?”

The nickname leaves your stomach flipping bashfully, a power you’re not sure how Roy still possesses after all these years.

“Yeah,” you say. “I was in that room right before the meeting was called. Right by the fireplace, right where your map cuts out,” you continue as you point to the blank area on the screen, “I swear I saw the outline of a secret door.”

“You didn’t check it out further?” Jason questions. You sigh, realizing you should’ve found a way to sneak in when everyone was preoccupied with Grandmaster Owl. Jason seems to realize your sigh means no and quickly adds, “It’s fine. It could’ve been a risky move and we all agreed to be covert with this.”

Your cheeks flush in response.

“So, a hidden door,” Roy trails off. “Could that be where they’re hiding the emitter?”

“Doesn’t sound too outlandish,” Jason concurs. 

“There’s something else,” you pipe up. “While I was in that room, I ran into Talon.” At this, both men wipe the emotions off their faces as if to appear unaffected by the fact that you were alone in a room alone with a man who's gotten the upper hand on Damian. How quickly they forget that you’ve also gotten the drop on Damian before. “Nothing happened,” you reassure them, “but I did overhear his conversation. You know how we’ve been debating whether or not Joker has anything to do with this?” you ask rhetorically, but they nod anyway. “Well, Talon referenced a madman leading-“

“That doesn’t mean it’s Joker,” Jason adds roughly, though you know it’s only because it’s about him.

“I know,” you huff. You’re not an amateur anymore. “I didn’t even connect the dots until he mentioned 'fucking over the clown.'" When you finish, the room is completely too quiet as they take in the information.

“When you said this wasn’t over…” Jason trails off darkly, breaking the silence.

You nod sullenly. 

“This is really good information, princess,” Roy says. The way his tone wavers lets you know that there’s a “but” coming. “But we can’t be sure they’re talking about him,” Roy insists. “The last thing we want to do is to assume that it’s him and then miss out on potential clues if it ends up being someone else entirely.”

You can’t help but deflate a bit. You really felt like your team had finally cracked part of this never ending puzzle, but no. 

Once again, Jason’s the one to break the silence. You think he’ll agree with Roy but surprises you when he spins it on the redhead.

“I’m pretty sure we can assume it’s Joker, Roy.”

Roy takes his words seriously, looking between the two of you before nodding. “Alright, Jay.”

“Regardless, we don’t know who Joker’s accomplice is,” you add to break up any remaining tension.

“They said the next meeting, 'the big one,'” Roy adds air quotes around his words, “takes place April 1st and I have a feeling it won’t just be a meeting. That only leaves us a week to get ready for whatever they have planned,” Roy finishes with worry spread evidently across his freckled cheeks.

“We’ll be ready for them,” Jason says. “We have no other choice.”

•••

After the fight at Stacked Deck and even strain from the pool party, your injuries are rearing their ugly head. To “alleviate” this, Roy and Jason offer to take up what they refer to as the “dirty work” so you can recover safely at home. Following your conversation in the car after The Stacked Deck, you can’t help but feel unheard. You’re perfectly capable of going out into the field, but neither of your loves are having it, especially after you’d confided in them about how much the pool incident had affected you. 

Regardless, all of this just means you get extra time with Lian. With time running out, you know that the more your crew can be in the streets looking for leads, the better, so you let them. This doesn’t mean, however, that you won’t give them shit for it later.

Lian’s requested scones for tomorrow, so you grab her matching little apron and get to work. She’s really become a help in the kitchen and you love that she loves cooking as much as you and her daddy do. Lian definitely has a knack at it and, the older she gets, the more she starts to outshine the adults in the kitchen, something that warms you inside and out.

Your parents had never cared about your hobbies, never did anything together as a family. To have your own family and be able to teach them your passions and have them care means everything to you.

You’re putting the scones in the oven when you hear Lian exclaim, “Mommy!”

You turn around quickly to see a dark figure moving about on the balcony. You waste no time in pushing Lian behind you as you finally piece together that the figure belongs to that of someone you’re entirely too familiar with. You continue to eye her up skeptically, but when she raises her hands in surrender you finally go out to meet the woman you haven’t seen since she tried to slice your neck a year ago.

The night air is cold, being winter and all, but you can’t help but find comfort in the silence that it brings. The brisk wind suddenly smacks at your hair, sending it cascading around you as you come face to face with Cheshire. Decked out in a hoodie and a baseball cap, you realize that, no, this is Jade.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” you tell her honestly. “You know, I’m not trying to push you out of Lian’s life, right? You’re more than welcome to be around her,” you say before cheekily adding, “so long as you’re not trying to actively murder me and such.”

“It’s not like I purposefully try to stay out of my kid’s life.” She pauses, then continues, “I know I’ve never been a good mother and that I’m still not one now, but-"

“I never said that,” you interject.

The woman seems caught off guard for a moment, then impressed. You can’t help but think back to your complicated family ties that have followed you every step of the way ever since you stepped foot in the city. Now, you’re a parent to Lian and can only hope that you can be everything you’ve never had to the little girl.

“Then, what do you think?”

You can’t begin to imagine why a highly regarded assassin like herself would ever care to hear what someone like you thinks of her, so you can’t help but feel caught off guard as well. 

“With how I’m feeling about the whole thing right now?” You motion toward where Lian’s run off to draw something for her mom. “Sometimes I want to run, too.”

She looks at you, really looks at you. It’s as if it’s the first time she’s actually seeing you and not just you as an extension of Roy. “You don’t need to run; you’ve already been a…” she trails off. “I want to thank you for how you’ve taken care of Lian even when I-” 

“You really don’t need to thank me for that,” you interject quickly. “I love her and I always will.”

It’s barely noticeable, but you watch the way she swallows around a lump in her throat. 

“But you’re nervous.” 

You nod. “But I’m nervous,” you reply. Your eyes flick away from hers in your moment of vulnerability. “I don’t want to fuck up their lives.”

“Their? As in Jason and Roy?” With this, she nudges you in the stomach. Though it could’ve been softer, the nudge definitely wasn’t her using anywhere near the amount of power she’d used a year ago on you. “Two for one deal,” she says, looking at you impressed. “You must be a pretty convincing whore.”

“I guess,” you snort, not having expected her to say that. “I definitely feel very lucky.”

“Then don’t let anyone take away what’s yours,” she warns ominously. “Next time you see me,” she says as she starts backing away, “this never happened.”

You sigh, watching as her shadow disappears into the night. “You know,” you call out into the night, “you can just text me and come over any time.” You shout the familiar string of numbers to the crickets, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Jade will at least know you’re not holding her back from seeing Lian even after all the shit that went down 

When Jason and Roy return, they find you curled up asleep on the couch with Lian.

A/N: today i found out that a group of owls is called a parliament and know you know, too! chap 10 needs two scenes written + edited then I'll upload it

alsooo i want to clarify once again that this is found family. the only person in the batfamily she even considers in a familial sense is bruce. reminder that she met everyone at 15 and never once resided in the mansion for more than a week-ish at a time and was quite literally “raised” by her own family / self. is it the most conventional situation? no but that’s why it’s interesting :p thanks for coming to my ted talk

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[keyokayo]

Some random wof hcs I have:

Of all dragon tribes, Leafwings are the one who can go the longest without eating as long as they have access to sunlight. 90% of the energy they need to live is from photosynthesis and that's how they survived in the poison jungle for so long

The main reason Skywings kill all of their dragons with "dangerous differences" isn't because those dragons are dangerous. It's actually because Skywing's society is built on competitiveness (see the sport tournament in the guide book), fairness, and equality in opportunities. Things like animus power or firescale are unfair advantages that must be eliminated, and dragons who have them are considered "cheaters" in the game of life

The smoke emitted by the volcano on the Nightwing Island contained a large amount of lead and mercury, and all Nightwings born on the island had lead and mercury poisoning. This explains why they had such a low birth rate (asides from the lack of food) and why they lost so much knowledge about their special powers. If smoke blocking out moonlight was the only problem they faced, Nightwing parents could have simply carried their eggs and flown above the smoke, and I suspected this was what they used to do when the volcano had just become active. Over many generations more Nightwings were exposed to lead/mercury, which made them suffer from memory problems and eventually forget how to obtain mindreading and foresight

Mudwings have a very strong sense of smell. A Mudwing can determine whether or not another Mudwing is their blood relative just by sniffing the air around them. And yes I made this hc because canonically there's no way to prevent inbreeding between parents and children in Mudwing society. I can't believe Tui never considered this when writing them

Both Moon and Secretkeeper have some form of anxiety disorder

Qibli definitely has god complex which stems from his insecurities and obsession with control. He also has trouble feeling empathy (thanks to Cobra) but knows how to hide it well by expressing sympathy instead

More of a speculation than a hc but Kinkajou is gonna turn evil in arc 4

Jerboa III is aro/ace

Whiteout's synesthesia works by linking her sense of sight, her mindreading and her foresight together. We all know she sees good people and visions in shades of blue. I hc that bad people and visions appear almost black and white to her. Future visions are always tinted in purple while past memories are tinted in brown. She also sees the emotions of other dragons as blotches of colors, but the colors change depending on the dragon

Also technically speaking her foresight is actually stronger than Darkstalker's. Not because she's born that way, but because Darkstalker is always so blinded by the visions he sees as good, he never bothered to spend time contemplating the bad ones and how to prevent them. Whiteout ultimately gets more out of her power despite being weaker and an optimist

Ahhh these are so cool! Ty anon!

[thiefbird]

E, n, u for the letters ask please! 🖖

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

Yes, but not recently! These were back in early early high school. I wrote a very short, very bad Draco Malfoy/Apple(as in the fruit) fic once. I hope to god it has been lost to time. I will not tell anyone what my fanfiction dot net username was. I also wrote a Doctor Who/Supernatural/Sherlock/X Files/Star Trek: The Original Series/Warehouse 13/The Yellow Submarine(not Beatles RPF because the only character was Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD aka The Nowhere Man)/Invader Zim crackfic extravaganza in collab with @gabrielnovakgoestomyschool (there may have been another fandom that I forgot). I do not know if it has survived the passage of time. I almost hope it did. They were all in this incredibly Escher-esque grocery store trying to get milk. I guess recently I accidentally wrote "Loghain Mac Tit" instead of "Loghain Mac Tir" when starting a post, took one look at it, and just posted it without further elaboration. I don't know if anyone ELSE thought it was funny, but I definitely did.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

Anders - I love an underdog, I love a revolutionary, I love a pathetic tall man who looks like he hasn't slept in a month, I love a man who will make Those Sounds when he kisses me. Also he loves cats and complaining; same, Anders. More seriously, I think he's a deeply misunderstood character by both those around him in canon, by his writing team and Bioware as a whole, and by the general fandom(not any of my beloved mutuals, we are all in the Right About Anders club); despite this, I do think he is a cohesive character. I just don't necessarily think that he is a cohesive character on purpose. I love the implications of his bonding with Justice, and the avenues it opens up for writing. I fully believe that Anders believes that he corrupted Justice into Vengeance, and that Vengeance is a demon; I just don't believe it's true.

Stephen Maturin - Ohhh, Stephen, my beloved. Patrick O'Brian cooked you up in a lab specifically to make me insane (nevermind the fact that I was three years old when he died) - mine is a fated obsession, to the point that I actually had a crazy-dramatic, toxic relationship with an autistic Trinity College naturalist for four and a half years directly out of high school; my brain simply had not fully learned that Stephen Maturin existed (I'd seen the movie once or twice and listened to the soundtrack ad nauseum because of my mother but never payed much attention), and fixated on the next best thing. Here is my Stephen Maturin propaganda: He's a tiny, angry little man who calls animals and friends and his wife alike "honey" and "my dear" and "acushla/a chuisle" (I will never forget the "awwwwwwww" that came from my mouth the one time he called Tom Pullings honey). He calls his best friend "soul" and "joy", and his other best friend "honey-bun". He's an International Super Spy, one of the most effective in the British service, and refuses to be paid for it because he hates tyranny so much (he does not like English colonialism either, but he has decided that England is the best way to beat Napoleon). He's an Irish and Catalan revolutionary (I did say I love a revolutionary), who is somewhat in hiding in the first book because of his associations with The Society of United Irishmen, and therefore connections to the Irish Uprising of 1798. Despite this impressive resume, this man has never met a boat or ship he is not in danger of not falling out of - he has been at sea for the better part of twenty years by the end of the series, and he still must be Carefully Watched to make sure he does not drown, or get soaked through to the skin. He is an acclaimed surgeon, with a miraculous success rate. He is also a renowned natural philosopher who has discovered multiple species, including a giant tortoise. He is the least tidy or fastidious man in all of creation, and is constantly covered in blood and/or winestains and/or crumbs. He pours alcohol over surgical sites not because he knows of germ theory, but because he thinks it'll help with pain. The only non-familial friend he's had longer than Jack Aubrey(who lives longer than the first book. Sorry James, ily) is Adhemar de la Mothe, a known and flamboyantly queer Parisian. He regularly says that he does not see the harm in sodomy so long as no one is harassing the ship's boys, and that anything that adds more love to the world seems a good thing. He loses his mind over a woman, and the more awful she is to him the more he loses it.

Speaking of Diana Villiers - Oh, Diana. I am fully in understanding with Stephen over you. A beautiful, headstrong woman who can ride better than most men, stuck in the most boring atmosphere of Southern England with her aunt and cousins after the death of her husband and her father both made her leave India - I cannot blame her for many of her actions. Diana is a fascinating character, and to me she is proof of Patrick O'Brian's writing ability. Most authors of Men Go To War books don't really seem to know how to write women very well (C.S. Forester I am looking at you. I do not know who Maria is outside of her fawning over Hornblower), but Diana is a fully fledged person from the moment we meet her setting her horse over a gate, despite the fact that we never see any of the events of the twenty books through her eyes. Not only is she a fully realised character, but she is one that shows his understanding of the setting he writes in. Diana Villiers is coping with grief - not only grief for her husband and her father, but for her independence. Her life in India, keeping house for her father from her mid-teens, would have been almost as different as one can imagine from the life of a poor relation take in on charity by a widowed aunt. She feels stifled in the English countryside, forced to play second fiddle to her cousins in order to keep the peace and a roof over her head. I cannot blame her for toying with men's hearts as a source of entertainment. Going into keeping with Canning is Diana's attempt to regain at least some measure of independence, and it is successful, to some extent. She has money, she is back in a country she finds familiar and exciting - but she also has a jealous, suspicious lover who employs their servants as spies to watch her activities, and little company because she is herself a scandal. Stephen's proposal offers her a way out of her situation; it also, to her, seems like a loss of freedom, not only because Stephen loves her, but also because she loves him, and that terrifies her. So she instead runs away with Johnson to America. Johnson, of course, is worse than Canning, and she leaves him temporarily, but then her freedom in England is threatened, again, this time by suspicions of intelligence work (I always wonder just how she got tied up so tightly in Mrs Wogan's subterfuge; did Johnson have something to do with it?), and surprise! Johnson is there to whisk her away from the danger. But he's worse still, and Stephen manages to intervene(yay Stephen) and get her away and back to Europe. This just keeps happening. Diana wants something that is almost entirely impossible for a woman in the period she lives in: liberty. Anything that could interfere with her freedom and independence is avoided at any cost - even her own feelings for Stephen. Especially her feelings for Stephen. She also, to me as someone with BPD/cPTSD now pretty well in remission, reads as a very empathetic and accurate portrayal of someone with BPD/cPTSD. Personally I think Being A Woman In The Late 1700s is enough reason on its own to have it(and we don't know enough of Diana's life before the Peace of Amiens to speculate on other Sources Of Trauma other than the death of her husband and father), but a lot of her hot-and-cold feels so familiar to me. She can be so cruel, and mean it fully in the moment she's saying it, but almost immediately regret her cruelty while still doubling down because she feels she has no other options.

Wow. This got really long. I hope everyone enjoys my Aubreyad Opinions Of The Day

[skzhocomments]

My only Faith is you - Jeongin (I.N) Oneshot Fanfic (Vampire AU)

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

Pairing: Jeongin (I.N of Stray Kids) x OC (name: Faith)

Genre: mature, angst, romance, Vampire AU

Word Count: ~13k

Warnings: mature, explicit sexual content, swearing, angst, depression, crying, mentions of non-consensual interactions, blood play (Jeongin is a vampire)

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Jeongin or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

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Summary

In-between jobs, Faith cursed the hell out of the world for dealing her such shitty hands. 'The light at the end of the tunnel is not a train, the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train, the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train.' - was her mantra, the only reason that kept her pushing despite her astronomical debt. She was going to get out of the town no matter what. She never believed in God, for He never answered her prayers. But what happens if one day someone hears her pleas for help, and what happens if that someone is not human, nor is he God? What happens if that someone longs for the very essence running through her veins, to the point it hurts? Will she just forget his existence and stay oblivious, pretending they never met, since that would keep her safe? Will she even see him again? Or will she embrace the danger, as being in danger has always been the only thing that got her heart racing and made her feel alive? Mature content ahead. 18+ © all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)

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My only Faith is you - Jeongin Oneshot Fanfic (Vampire AU)

~I.N's POV~

Humans are disgusting creatures.

Selfish, vile, egoistical, sinful, self-centred, unscrupulous, obsessed with themselves, way too proud for their own good.

But still, as horrible as they are... I need them.

I need humans to survive.

This is, for me, a fact of life that's still hard to accept, even though I've been like this... for many years now. Way too many. In fact, more years than any pathetic human life could even reach.

This inherent necessity I have for humans was initially impossible to control. The pretty girl from the coffee shop with the way too short skirt for the times, the drunkard sleeping on a park bench on a random Wednesday night, or the clumsy nerd boy with the round glasses holding his science books way too tightly for his own good under his arm, his plaided shirt too tight and ridiculously tucked into his high-waisted pants – no one was safe from me, for I couldn't hold back the desire I had for that extremely delicious something that flows through those small human veins. Oh, how I enjoyed the way their heart rate went up, pumping even more of that life elixir I hold so dear, when the realisation of what was going to happen hit them.

Their screams were annoying, though. Especially the girls'. High-pitched and irritating as fuck. I always had to make them shut up quicker. Don't get me wrong, men squeal as well, but they're more like... rats. A man's scream sounds almost funny, considering how macho man they see themselves. No one's macho on the verge of death, I suppose.

Let's just say that the first few decades of my new existence were unruly. The blood gave me so much dopamine, I couldn't stop myself, nor did I want to. I was young, barely turned for a few years, and I had fun. Being a sickly kid, I was never allowed to do much, but when I became a vampire, damn, did I not hold back! I allowed myself all the fun I've missed out on in the early years of my life, and I drank all the blood I could, my lips permanently stained red.

That all ended when I met my current family, as I like to call them now. It's unusual to meet too many vampires in the same place. There's not many of us, barely a handful all around the country. So, when I met Chris, everything changed.

I was leaving a bar with a pretty hussy: blonde hair, big tits, amazing thighs. Frankly, I didn't give a shit for any of that, what I wanted from her was to sink my teeth in her jugular vein and leave her cold, but for starters, as much as she was attractive, she was the biggest slut the '30s had ever seen. The thing about those years was that women were either wife material or easy, and that slut certainly wasn't any wife material. I picked her because barely anybody cared for girls like her that would flaunt their femininity, sleep around, and leave practically nothing to the imagination. Men wanted shy, reserved women, so who was going to miss this prostitute?

With as many affairs as she had, no one would suspect anything when she would inevitably turn up in a ditch on the other side of the city. I thought about it long and hard, even though I hated it and would've much rather been reckless, but what's key to vampires is that our existence must stay a secret unless we want to be hunted down, so I needed to hand-pick my victims meticulously.

It only took one espresso martini and a wink to convince her to go with me. Her laugh was annoying, but I was hungry, and her neck looked appetizing as fuck. So much so, that I couldn't even wait until we got back to my place. If I did, things would've maybe been different now, and I would've still been alone, perhaps.

I pushed her against the wall and kissed her neck, preparing it for the bite. Her perfume almost made me gag. I preferred it when people didn't use any on their skin, but oh well, beggars can't be choosers. When my teeth pierced the smooth skin on her neck, she let out such a loud scream, I wanted to smack her. Still, I just covered her mouth and continued drinking her essence. Her blood didn't taste too amazing: I found out that some people taste better than others. Before having time to analyse it, though, I felt myself being kicked to the ground so quickly and powerfully, I didn't even have time to process it.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing out here?!" a man's voice shouted at me, annoyed. I was also extremely angry: who did this idiot think he was to interrupt my meal?

And then it clicked. A normal person wouldn't have been able to shake me off. Or rather - a human wouldn't have been able to. Us vampires are blessed with inhumane force, specifically so we can easily hold our victims down and eat from them. It's just the way mother nature made us, and it's nothing more than a predator and prey dynamic between us and humans. Just the cycle of life.

"What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are you doing?!" I shouted back and got myself up from the ground. A quick glance at the girl told me that she's passed out, so there was at least some luck there. Her screams would've made me go insane for real – I'd probably snap her neck.

"Saving your ass! Why the fuck are you eating out here? What if someone comes?!" the angry man came towards me and grabbed my collar forcefully. I was shocked to notice that I can't smack his hands away, for his grip was too strong, and he was more powerful than me.

That was a first. I've never met other vampires before, not even the one who turned me. He left me before I got the chance to wake up.

"What's so wrong with that?! I'd just leave. It's not like anyone would see me, no?" I replied coldly, being able to control my anger better now that I wasn't as hungry. The bitch's blood was awful, but it did its job.

"If anyone would, would you kill them too?" he raised an eyebrow and let go of me.

"I mean – I guess so?"

"That's sad. What's your objective, anyway? Messing around and eating? Why don't you do something more productive?"

"Tsch." I scoffed. "Like what? And what do you know about me, anyway?"

"Most things." He shrugged. "I've been following you for some time now, Jeongin. Or should I call you I.N, as you introduced yourself to her 20 minutes ago?" he pointed to the woman on the floor, who was still unconscious, two thin lines of deep red blood flowing from her neck.

"Who the fuck are you?" I replied, confused. Who was this guy and why did he know so much about me?

"Name's Chris. Or Chan, whichever you'd like." He handed me his right hand, waiting for a shake.

"Woah!" I rolled my eyes. "Really explicit! Well, Chris, care to tell me why you've been following me?" I slapped his hand away instead of shaking it, making him smirk.

"I wanted to ask you to join us."

"And who's us?"

"My companions. Fellows that are... like me and you. We call ourselves Stray Kids."

"What a dumb name." I mocked. "And why exactly would I want to join you?"

"Well, why would you want to be alone? Doesn't it get lonely?"

I scoffed again. What was this idiot telling me?

"Look, I'm not interested in any... "companionship" or whatever the fuck you want to call it."

"Suit yourself, then." The man shrugged and turned around. "But if you change your mind, you can find us on Fable Street 143. The big house with the green door. You can't miss it."

"Like hell I would join you. I don't need to hang out with a bunch of nobodies."

"Oh, and don't forget to take care of that." He ignored my snarky reply and pointed to the passed-out girl. "You can leave the poor thing live, no one's gonna believe her anyway."

And with that, he left.

~

The following months passed by excruciatingly slow.

It's so ironic. I've lived for a long time, but the months ever since that encounter went by slower than a hundred years.

I kept thinking about the man, and I couldn't help but feel like he emanated an aura that demanded respect. And more than that, he raised a suspicious curiosity inside of me; one I've never felt before.

That's how I ended up on Fable Street 143, paying close attention to the big house I've been told about. I kept waiting and waiting, but the green door never opened, I couldn't hear any sounds from the inside, and no one seemed to live there - metaphorically, of course, because no other fellows of mine would be alive.

Was it a scam? I thought at first, before deciding that I ain't in a patient state to keep waiting. I just went to the door and opened it, walking inside like I owned the place.

As soon as I walked in, loud laughter could be heard from a room on the opposite side of the house. I took my time walking towards the voices, admiring the interesting architecture on the walls. Intricate shapes were carved in wood, the height of the room impressive. Every detail pointed towards a Victorian architecture and evoked memories I thought to be long gone from my brain. It looked similar to the house I grew up in, making me feel even a bit... nostalgic.

When I finally reached the end of the large hallway, the smell of burning wood coming from the fireplace of the big living room I walked in welcomed me. In front of the fireplace, two big sofas and a coffee table made the place feel cosier, a few boys sitting leisurely and playing what looked like some sort of board game.

The left side of the room was more like an arcade, or a game room: there were all sorts of entertainment, such as a pool table, a football table, some game cabinets. There was a comical contrast between this side of the room, and the right side, where only a large table with many chairs scattered around it caught my eye.

"Oh?" one of the people on the sofa noticed me and turned around, raising an eyebrow expectedly. He had chestnut brown hair, however a blonde strand stood out in his bangs.

The man I got to know as Chris was also on the sofa, smirking.

"You came." Was all he said, before standing up and coming in front of me to shake my hand.

I decided to accept his shake this time.

"Is this the guy you've been telling us about?" another man spoke, his features cat-like.

"I'm Jeongin." I nodded shortly.

"Well, Jeongin, we're glad you decided to join us."

"I haven't decided anything-" I started, but was quickly cut off.

"We were just about to go feast. Wanna come with?" Chris tapped my shoulder once, then left the room without waiting for my reply. I once again felt his powerful aura, so strong that it made me follow him.

~

That's how I ended up with Stray Kids. I got to learn that there were 7 other vampires in total, and Chris, being the oldest, was proclaimed the leader of the group. Everyone was in charge of something, such as: finding a good place to eat, doing background checks on people we were interested in consuming, covering up our tracks and disposing of dead bodies if necessary. Stray Kids' main morals consisted in making sure the number of dead humans was as low as possible. They really seemed to dislike killing. I didn't care too much for it, but since I decided to live with them, I had to abide by their rules as well.

I found out that it's so much more convenient to not kill a human and dispose of them. It was so much easier using a drug instead to make them fall asleep while we eat, then making it look like they got hurt by accident.

This means that we don't really bite their necks, though, much to my dismay. A bite to the arm will suffice, then we'll cover it up with a small cut to make it look like a scratch and call it a day. This way we can eat without doing much work afterwards, and if we particularly liked someone, we could just remember them and return to eat when their blood supply comes back.

~

~Faith's POV~

Fucking hell, not again.

I thought while gagging so badly, suddenly feeling the need to throw up.

"Why are humans so disgusting?" I blurted out while starting to clean up the clogged toilet, full of shit by whichever animal – because I couldn't call the thing who did this a person – wanted to ruin my night.

"Everything okay back there, Faith?" my colleague shouted from the cash register.

"No, dumbass, nothing is okay here! Why the fuck didn't you clean this up before I came?!" I shouted back. He was counting the money made on his shift to add it to the computer program we used in this small gas station and was preparing to hand over the night shift to me.

"Tsch, how the heck do you have such a holy name but such a rotten mouth?" He scoffed.

"No but for real, you always leave these messes for me to clean! What am I, your personal maid?!"

"I just didn't have time, okay?! A lot more people come here during the daytime, just so you know!"

"Yea, yea, keep telling yourself that. How much money did we make during the day then, huh? 100 bucks?"

"150!"

"That's how many people. 5?! Fucking asshole."

I hated this job, but I desperately needed money, so I came to work here, despite all the rumours I've heard about the owners going bankrupt. There are not many options in this city for doing night shifts, and my days are already filled to the brim by the other full-time job I have. If this gas station's going down, we'll see.

What I like the most about this job is the hours. I call it a "night shift" out of convenience, but I'm actually scheduled from 7 PM to 3 AM, which gives me plenty of time to go home and pass out for a few hours before my other job starts at 10 AM.

What I hate the most is – you guessed it! The fucking toilet. And this co-worker.

Just ... a bit more... I tried to give myself some courage, thinking that there is a light at the end of this hellhole.

I am moving.

As soon as I manage to pay off my debt, I'm fucking leaving this place behind and starting anew somewhere else.

Where? I don't know yet. But there's nothing for me in this stupid city. I've been living in a black hole for as long as I can remember, and I can't change anything if I stay.

Just a bit more!

~

Handing over the shift to my next co-worker, I made my way out of the gas station and inhaled the cold air outside. It was already autumn, gold and rusty leaves paving the way back to the small apartment I lived in.

The way home was not too long, but not too short either. I had to walk for about 20 minutes and pass through some sketchy neighbourhoods, but this was already a nightly occurrence at that point, so I didn't pay it much mind.

The only place that truly creeped me out, though, was the tunnel. A big bridge carrying the country's largest highway crossed over the city, and under it – this cursed space with barely any light that I had to go through every day if I wanted to reach home quicker. The other way home would mean detouring the whole bridge, which would imply more than an hour of walking. I don't have that time, nor the energy to walk so long in the dark after 2 full time jobs.

Now, again, I was in front of the tunnel, bracing myself to go through. Faint sounds could be heard from the inside, but the cars going high speed above made it difficult to listen to anything that was happening.

I took a careful step in the dark but couldn't really see anything. The only light came from the headlights of the cars above that would creep through. I was able to make out a silhouette of a man hunched over. Disgusting sounds were coming from him as he threw up all the alcohol he probably drank, judging by the bottles around him, which made me wonder if he was perhaps the same breed as the guy that shat in the gas station's bathroom earlier.

I crossed over to put some distance between me and him, but that proved itself to be just a futile attempt, as he somehow managed to stop throwing up and come to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me back forcefully.

The guy smelled so bad, I gagged, feeling a bit of vomit rising up my throat. I shoved him back and tried to walk away, but the realisation that he, a man, was more powerful than me, a woman half his size, hit me hard, as he pinned me up against the wall and started rubbing himself on my leg.

"Fuck, get off!" I shouted, trying to push him away, but he forcefully held my hands against the wall, his lips finding their way to my neck.

"N-No!" I shouted, trying to push him again to no avail. Small tears formed in the corners of my eyes, and the feeling of doom settled deep down in my stomach. I didn't know what to do.

The only thing that came to mind was as pathetic as it sounded, which was letting out a quiet "Help" and closing my eyes shut.

I summoned all my strength and managed to somehow push him away from me, but that only got him angrier. He grabbed a handful of my hair and tackled me to the ground, getting above me.

If I could get myself out of the former position, this new one was simply impossible. He was too strong.

I prayed and prayed for someone to come, but quickly lost all hope as the man easily held both my wrists with just one hand, his other roaming my body, touching my breasts, my stomach, my thighs, and my ass.

He ripped off my pants, making me wince as the cold night air brushed on my naked thighs, and then clumsily touched my panties with his dirty fingers, grunting in pleasure.

His touch made me feel so disgusted, I cried again, but there was no one there to hear me.

As his hand moved from my thigh to his growing bulge, I heard the sound of him unzipping his pants.

Fuck.

No.

Is this really happening?

I shut my eyes tighter and mouthed a yet another small "Please help me.", and just then, the man's weight suddenly disappeared from me.

~

~Jeongin's POV~

Feeling better than ever, my stomach full after the meal I shared with my brothers, I decided to go for a walk.

Night was pleasant. Daytime wasn't too bad, either. There were certain vampires who preferred the sun over the moon, like Felix, one of the guys from Stray Kids.

Then, there was Chris, or Seungmin, or I, who enjoyed the moonlight.

Again, it was simply personal preference. There's no such thing as glowing skin, burning under the sun or nonsense like that. Whoever made those stupid vampire movies didn't research at all. It's clear that they never met a real vampire.

Of course, our existence is a secret, and it's normally extremely difficult to make out a vampire in a crowd. Almost impossible if that vampire is careful. After we drink, we are stronger than ever, but we also become... very human-like. Our skin is no longer pale and cold, we are no longer firm to the touch and these effects last for at least 72 hours, when we would have to eat again. The only indication that we are different stands in our crimson red eyes, but that's also easily hidden with coloured contact lenses nowadays.

Probably the only things those movies got right would be the super strength and enhanced senses. We are able to move very quickly, and our hearing and sight are truly something impressive.

As I'm leisurely walking through the quieter parts of the city, I suddenly hear a small voice.

"Please help me."

It was a cry for help, and judging by the melody of the voice, barely audible, I assumed it was a woman.

Shrugging, I turned around and started walking in the opposite direction.

Then the voice cried again.

"No, please..."

I was able to distinguish a few grunts coming from a man, and the sound of a zipper opening. What the man was doing was disgusting, but I guess it wasn't entirely so different to what we, vampires, did. I also didn't give two shits about others' bodily autonomy.

Well, not exactly. Ever since I joined Stray Kids, Chris made it crystal clear that I'm gonna have to respect other humans, since I needed them. So, I guess that asshole of a man and I weren't that much alike, after all.

Plus, I was doing what I did to survive. He was trying to rape a girl in the middle of the night for... what? A few minutes of pleasure?

Tsch.

My legs moved without me realising, and my hands collided with the man's back, grabbing him by the shirt and shoving him away from the whimpering girl on the ground. She was half naked, but judging by the man's dick barely hanging out of his pants, I got here quickly enough, and he didn't manage to do the deed.

The girl's eyes were burning holes into me, confusion visible on her face, as she didn't seem to register what happened.

The guy tried to get up and land a punch on me, so I went behind him and grabbed him by the collar, while he whimpered in pain as he was slowly getting strangled by his own shirt.

I kept holding the man and looked at the girl, who was clearly bewildered and couldn't comprehend how exactly I was able to hold the man one meter above the ground with such ease, while he struggled in my grip.

Still holding the bastard, who started muttering curses towards me, I took advantage of the super speed and went on top of the bridge quickly, throwing him in front of a moving car.

He was dead instantly.

I went back down to the girl to check on her and see if she'd be able to keep her mouth shut about what happened, and she was still on the ground, but she managed to pull her pants back up.

~

~Faith's POV~

"You okay?" The tall man spoke nonchalantly. He returned as fast as he left, the drunkard who just assaulted me completely gone by now.

"Uhm... where... is the other guy...?" I looked around confused, not understanding what happened. It's irrational to think that any of it was logical. How the dude practically flew off me, how easily this mysterious black-haired man held him up in the air with just one hand, and how both of them disappeared for just a few seconds, before he returned alone.

None of it made sense.

"Why, love, miss him already?" he wiped his hands off on his clothes, as if he was dirty and wanted to clean himself.

"Of course not. Thank you." Was all I said, when a car suddenly hovered over us on the highway, standing in place, small screams being heard from above. The sudden light allowed me to see the tall figure more clearly, and one thing in particular caught my eye: his red eyes.

"What..." I start, but stop myself in time, as the piercing gaze this guy was giving me almost made me freeze. I felt a sudden rush in my body, my breath hitching inside my throat, my heart beating quicker than ever, and I involuntarily started trembling looking into his eyes. I didn't understand why, but my fight-or-flight response was sending alarm bells to my brain stronger than ever, and I couldn't explain it.

What was it about this guy that was making me so afraid, feeling like a little lamb in front of a wolf? He just saved me... so why? Why is my body reacting like this when I notice him trailing his crimson eyes up and down my body?

It's a different gaze than the drunkard's. This one seemed a million times more... dangerous.

"You know," he started, clicking his tongue, "it's always better to not ask any questions. To stay oblivious. It's safe." He accentuated the last word and took a sure step towards me, and even though my brain was in overdrive and the only thing I wanted to do was to run away as far as possible from this black-haired man, I stood still, continuing to look into his eyes.

I just laid there charmed by his demeanour, by his determined steps, and despite the fear, I felt more alive than ever. The saying was true. Fear doesn't shut you down, it wakes you up.

And that's what it did to me. I got up and started walking towards the man as well, wanting to take in as much as possible about him.

I was completely mesmerised by the way his fox-like red eyes watched my every move, by how angelic he looked. There was no doubt that this must've been the most attractive man I've ever seen in this city. His black hair was parted in the middle, large strands falling on his perfectly smooth forehead. His cheekbones looked like they were carved by Michelangelo himself during a passionate night of sculpting and inspiration.

I reached out a hand to touch his face, and to my surprise, he didn't even flinch. His cheek was warm. My thumb slowly brushed over his lips, that were also an interesting shade of red, it looked like the remnants of a lip tint.

"Done feeling me up, doll?" he smirked, pulling me out of my trance.

"I'm sorry." I take my hand back and get shocked by my boldness. Where did that come from?

"You should go home and forget that tonight happened. Yea?" he instructed me, sounding really convincing. His words were as sweet as caramel liquor, and I just wanted to hear them more and more, to get drunk on them.

"Will you walk me home?" I asked directly, surprising myself; even the man seemed briefly shocked by my boldness, his red eyes growing wide for just a few barely noticeable seconds.

"And why would I?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Because it's safe." I replied, feeling clever to use the same words he just spoke.

"Doll, I'm the farthest thing away from safe. Can't you see? Or rather- can't you feel it?" His face came closer, and he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "I can hear your heart beating faster. Aren't you afraid?"

He was right. The ringing in my ears wouldn't stop, and I was in overdrive. This man felt dangerous, but the way he saved me was easily the most interesting thing that ever happened in my pathetic life. It's the first time someone saved me, and God knows how much I needed it before, when the creepy subway guy touched me under my skirt, when a drunkard followed me three streets home or when the loan shark I've borrowed so much money from to pay for my grandma's hospital bills beat me up. I needed help many times, and I asked for it, just as pathetically as I did tonight. But still, no one ever came.

No one ever heard me, until this dark-haired tall man showed up.

Maybe he was my guardian angel. Maybe all my faith was misplaced all this time.

"It's safer than going alone." I retorted weakly after trying to think of a witty reply, and failing.

"I don't know about that sweetheart. I could just be a monster in disguise and eat you as soon as we cross through the tunnel."

"Hmm. Maybe you are. Is red your natural eye colour?" I ask, way too bold once again.

"As I said, not asking questions and staying oblivious is safe, so why don't you bite your tongue?"

"Only if you take me home. Safe and sound."

"You're persistent." He grinned. "Okay. I'll take you home, but you will promise me that you'll forget about the drunkard, what happened in this tunnel and me. And you'll stop asking questions you shouldn't know the answers to."

"Fine. I promise. But can you tell me your name, at least? I'll forget it by tomorrow morning anyway." I started walking through the tunnel, surer of my steps, since it was no longer as dark. I wondered how many cars stopped above us for it to be so well lit, and I tried not to think of the drunkard that wanted to get a feel of me when several sirens could be heard from the highway.

I was sure that whatever happened to him, happened up above, and judging by the number of sirens, I would find out from the morning papers.

I'm not so sure I wanted to know, though.

"It's Jeongin. What's yours?"

Jeongin. A really old name.

I tried once again to stop thinking. Maybe it's as he said. Not knowing is better. It's safer.

But do I want safety, or do I want to feel something for once?

"Faith."

"Pfft." He burst out laughing. "Faith? So ironic."

"Why?"

"Who're you gonna have faith in? Now you have to tell me you believe in God."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Did God save you tonight? Whichever God you've prayed to. Did he listen to your prayers, ever?"

"Jeongin..." His name lingered on my lips for a little while. "You are... how I will pray from now on." I glanced at him with a serious look in my eyes, as we exited the tunnel.

"I'm no God."

"Maybe... But you are mine, for you answered my prayers, didn't you?"

"I just happened to be around to hear them." He shrugged, and I dropped it.

The walk home was filled with silence, as both of us leisurely made our way towards the old, run-down apartment building I live in. As soon as I announced that we arrived, Jeongin disappeared without a trace, and I didn't see him again.

~

~Six months later~

~Faith's POV~

40.000$.

That's how much I borrowed to pay for my grandmother's hospital bills. Lung cancer was a horrible diagnosis to receive at her old age, but what was I supposed to do? Simply give up on her? She's the one who raised me.

The doctors weren't optimistic, and suggested many times in good faith that we should stop treatment, stop forcing her to fight. The treatment was expensive, the chemotherapy reaching up to as much as 7000$ per month, excluding the additional cost of her having a bed in a shared crappy room at our state hospital. She was hospitalised for a total of 8 months, 6 of which included chemo. It's easy to say that the cost wound up eating away at me, putting me in a dilemma: let my grandmother go, or get money somehow?

I've been working since 13 doing all sorts of odd jobs just to keep us afloat, as my grandma hasn't been able to work due to her sickness in a long time. I even managed to save up some money, a few pretty thousands, but everything I've saved up was gone the first 2 months of her hospital stay, so the only thing I could do was borrow money. However, no bank wanted to loan anything to me, an 18-year-old high school dropout with no consistent job.

I was desperate. I didn't know what to do or who to turn to. We had no one, and with my grandma sick, I was completely on my own. I resorted to associating with bad crowds, and ended up finally meeting a loan shark that was willing to lend me as much as I asked for monthly, which was only my grandma's bills that I couldn't cover from my two jobs. I skipped eating entirely only to be able to pay him back the monthly fare we agreed upon once my grandma passed away, and I became frail. The only times I could eat were when something was left over from the gas station's pastry, or when I could get a 90% discounted product at the supermarket for something that was soon to expire.

In retrospect, I made the wrong choices. My grandma suffered badly, the chemo only made her weaker, the meds made her dizzy and sick, and by the end she became a shell of herself. I should've let her go peacefully, and I shouldn't have borrowed any money.

But I did. 40.000$, with interest 60.000$.

And the 2 jobs I had – now only one, ever since the gas station closed down – barely paid for my rent of the crappy one-room in the old, run-down apartment building and the loan.

Scraping by, trying to find another job I could work night shifts in, I kept agonising.

Just a bit more!

I tried to tell myself again, but who was I trying to fool? How many years would I need to lie to myself like this? How many years have I already lied?

My train of thoughts was interrupted when the door of my apartment opened up forcefully.

I stood up and glanced at the two masked men walking through the door like they owned the place.

"You turned off your phone." One voice spoke, and I quickly realised it was the loan shark. "And you paid me too little last month. Trying to run away from your responsibilities?" He came threateningly in front of me and slapped my left cheek with force. I felt the iron taste of blood inside my mouth, but I didn't cry out in pain.

"I didn't turn off my phone." I tried defending myself. "It broke down and I didn't have money to replace it. And I paid you a little bit less because I lost one of my jobs, but I will make it up to you as soon as I get hired again."

"And when's that? Fucking bitch." He raised his hand again, making me wince in anticipation.

"I- I don't know." I stuttered. "I've been trying to find something, but-"

"I know, Boss. Why don't we hire her at the new place? She's not that ugly, I bet she could bring in banks." The other masked man spoke. I didn't like the sound of it.

"Great idea. You're gonna start working tonight at the new club opened on Fable street."

"Wait-" I raised my hands in the air trying to get his attention. "I don't- I can't- I'm not a prostitute!" I shouted, trying to explain somehow and make him understand that I don't want to take this job no matter what.

"You won't sleep with anyone. You're just going to play hostess and serve drinks, make sure customers are happy. That's all." The loan shark shrugged as if it was nothing. As if I was so naïve, I couldn't tell that he was lying. There was no just playing hostess and serving drinks. Things didn't work like that in the real world, and I hated the idea of doing that kind of job, selling my body to strange men – I wanted to avoid clubs all together.

"But-" I started, before getting quickly cut off.

"Tonight, 10 PM, Fable Street 142. Dress up nicely, a short skirt would be preferable, and put some ice on that cheek, otherwise you'll bruise, and no customer will want to look at that ugly face. Oh, and you'd better be there, unless you want me to fucking kill you, or even better, sell you off to get my money back."

Bastard.

~

Even though I put ice on my swollen cheek, the bruise still started to form, and I didn't have any make-up to cover it up.

In terms of clothes, my wardrobe was also scarce. However, I managed to find a short black skirt that was hugging my thighs a bit too tight for my liking, and that was barely covering up my bum. I grabbed a sort-of matching low crop black shirt, and looking at myself in the mirror, I felt like a slut.

The only thing covering up my body was a big winter coat that I hugged around me as tightly as I could while I made my way on the dark streets to Fable 142. Indeed, a new club opened here. Glancing around, the only neighbours would be whoever lived in the house on Fable 143 – if there was even someone living there, for the place looked pretty abandoned – so poor them, because it was sure that this club, like all the others run by this loan shark, would be noisy as hell.

I entered the club and made my way towards the bar, where the loan shark sipped lazily on some whiskey.

"Look at you, you're presentable at least. But your cheek is bruising up, didn't you listen to me?"

"I did." I replied drily.

"I must've hit you too hard. It's not like you didn't deserve it, so whatever." He shrugged. "Take off the coat and start serving, the bartender will let you know which tables need which drinks."

~

~Jeongin's POV~

"Yo, Chris, wanna come with across the street? A new club opened up. Maybe we'll find some food." Minho smirked evilly.

"Nah, I'm good. Not hungry at the moment." Chris shrugged and continued reading whatever book he was holding.

"Seungmin? Jisung? Jeongin?" Minho continued asking around the room.

"I'd like to go." Felix replied.

"Hmm, me too. I do feel a bit hungry." Jisung got up from the sofa and tossed aside the remote control of the TV in the living room.

"Fine, I'll come too, if y'all are going." I stood up as well, and the four of us made our way vis-à-vis.

~

The club was loud, and the smell of smoke was intoxicating. We quickly found an empty table and Minho ordered a few bottles of expensive rum, whiskey and champagne, before starting to look around the room hungrily, hunting for tonight's unlucky victim.

I looked around the room as well and noticed how full the circular tables with leather sofas around them were, and then something caught my eye. Or rather – someone.

Faith was wearing a short, indecent black skirt with a top just as small. She presented a Dom Perignon champagne bottle to the men around the table directly in front of us, and they urged her to sit down next to them and pour the angel's tears in their glasses.

She seemed uncomfortable.

One of the men was getting touchy with her, his hand brushing over her naked thigh, and with each of his touches, her expression would grow even more cramped. Her whole body looked stiff, and I couldn't believe how no one cared for her comfort. But men will be men, and the only thing they cared about in this state – drunk, totally intoxicated – was getting to touch a pretty woman everywhere, and releasing themselves, preferably inside of her.

Why is she here?

After our encounter 6 months ago, I don't know what was wrong with me. I grew some sort of infatuation towards her, and I kept watching her more often from the shadows. I found out she's living a chaotic, sad life, working two jobs seemingly to support herself, all the money going God knows where. I never showed myself in front of her again, though, because what good would it do?

But strangely enough, I was curious to see how this small human navigated her day-to-day life, and I knew her gas station and cashier jobs' schedule by heart. I even remembered her name, which was another first. I never cared to remember any names before. And even more than that, it was the first time I wasn't interested in her blood, but rather in herself, but I didn't want to do anything with this curiosity, so I stopped following her around about a month ago.

She's just a pathetic human. I would tell myself. And she's going to die anyway.

So why was I now feeling so much discomfort, seeing the man try to move his fingers up her skirt?

Why is she here? Why isn't she at the gas station?

She suddenly got up and bowed shortly, before leaving the room and basically running to the bathroom. The man seemed persistent, however, and got up, going after her, and my feet once more moved without my will, towards them.

The man grabbed Faith by the hand and spun her around, grabbing her behind with his free hand and lifting up her short skirt. She protested and tried pushing him away, but before she got the chance to, I grabbed the man by his collar and threw him on the ground. One glance at him made all the annoyance in his gaze disappear, getting replaced by fear. He stood up and walked away, leaving me and Faith on the small corridor.

As soon as she saw me, her eyes went wide, in a similar fashion to the night we met.

"Jeongin." She breathed, my name sounding sweet on her lips.

I got closer to her and replaced the man's position, letting her skirt back down instead of lifting it up. I put my face closer to hers, and breathed in her perfume-less, natural scent, which was so sugary, it almost drove me crazy. This night I was hungry. I kissed her neck slowly and tried to fight all urges inside of me to not bite her then and there, and I was expecting to hear her complaining of my actions, but instead, she rolled her head back against the wall, giving me more access to her bare neck.

"Back again in danger's lap?" I whispered, feeling the way her body reacted to my words, how she crumbled in front of me.

"You helped me again." Her hands found their way to my waist, and she held on tightly.

"What are you doing here, Faith? This is not you." I trailed my hands down her body, touching the small of her waist, before trailing down to her hips, to her naked thighs, my lips still dangerously close to her neck. Oh, how I wanted to sink my teeth in her soft skin and taste her.

"I didn't have a choice." Her hands also moved from my waist, upwards towards the back of my shoulders, and she pulled me in closer.

"Do you want to bite me?" She asked seductively, making my breath hitch in my throat. Of course, I didn't actually need to breathe, but I learnt to do so naturally so as to seem more human-like.

"Why would you ask that?"

"I've been thinking about you. A lot. And I figured it out." She whispered.

If I had a beating heart, I was sure it would've beat harder than ever right now. Or stopped. Either or.

"What have you figured out?" I asked.

"What you are."

"What am I?"

"A vampire." She whispered again, slowly, the words rolling off her tongue.

"Bullshit. Vampires don't exist." I smirked.

"You exist, though."

"So you made out I'm no God, then?" I grinned again.

"I told you, Jeongin. When I'm down on my knees, you're how I pray. You can be anything, and I wouldn't care."

Fuck, how badly I wanted this human girl to be mine. To have her completely for myself and learn everything about her, to drink her blood whenever I please and to fuck her senseless – first time I've ever felt this urge, a new feeling rising up inside of my chest, making the shirt on me feel too tight.

"Faith, stop working at this place. Don't let any degenerate touch you." I whisper while slowly kissing her neck again, the small moans from her lips intoxicating me more than anyone else's blood ever could.

"I need money."

I raised my head and examined her face closely, and that's when I noticed a dark patch on her left cheek.

"Who did this to you?" I touched her cheek softly, seeing her wince in pain.

"The same bastard I've borrowed money from. I couldn't pay back this month's share fully, so he hit me, then brought me here."

"How much do you need?"

"25.000$ more"

"Ouch. Why don't you show me the unlucky bastard who hit you, pretty?"

"Why? What good would it do?"

"To pay him back, of course." I smiled innocently, thinking of all the ways I was going to fuck up the idiot's face.

I raised my head and looked down into Faith's eyes, surprised to see no more fear in them. Instead, something else seemed to glimmer – curiosity, perhaps. I resumed my initial position in the crook of her neck.

"It's the owner of this club."

"Got involved with a bad gang, pretty?"

"I did. And now I'm paying the price." She shrugged. It felt like we were having a talk while drinking a morning coffee, not something as serious as this. It was quite ironic, considering our proximity. My lips were still latched to her skin, stealing small moans with each few seconds of silence between us, and her arms were still pulling me closer, hands on the back of my shoulders.

"I'll clear it up for you, if you promise me you'll live better." I distanced myself from her again, afraid that I would really sink my teeth in her. I wasn't sure if she would want me to, and Chris' words to respect humans' autonomy echoed through my head. It was shocking, really, to truly care about her autonomy, and no one else's.

"What do you know about how I've been living?" She raised an eyebrow, grabbing the collar of my shirt and holding it tightly. I let her do whatever she wanted. That's the privilege of my interest in her. "And if you help me, will you just disappear again?"

"I don't know. Probably. You don't need me hanging over your head."

"I want you, though." She replied bluntly. "You see, Jeongin... playing with death seems to be the only thing that makes me feel alive."

I was baffled. The burning in her eyes made it impossible to look away from her. It was like there was something unspoken between us, a connection I couldn't back away from, and I once again wondered what it was about this mortal girl that made me feel this way.

I forgot that I, too, used to be mortal. I haven't always been a blood thirsty vampire, and I haven't always longed for human's very essence.

Looking into her eyes, though, I remembered, and it came down on me like a wave crashing against the shore. I used to have this burning in my eyes too, and I used to want to live, as I was rotting away in a hospital bed a few hundred years ago.

"Will you offer to me just like that, Faith? Will you come with me? Will you continue praying to me, no matter what I'll do to you?" I asked her in such a low voice, it almost came up as a whisper, barely audible in the club's uproar.

The corners of her mouth lifted up in a mischievous smile, before she pulled on my collar and made our lips collide.

~

~Faith's POV~

I must be crazy.

No sane person would do what I've done.

Jeongin was walking leisurely in front of me, his right arm stretched backwards to hold my hand firmly.

The realisation that I was following a vampire God knows were at 3 AM after just kissing him sunk into the bottom pit of my stomach, and I started feeling very dizzy. It was surely the lack of sleep that made me feel this way. How many hours have I been awake for?

"How old are you? How did you become a vampire?" I asked, trying to steer away from the tightness of my chest.

"Someone turned me when I was 21. Many, many years ago."

"Who? Why?"

"I don't know. I can't remember his face. I was sick, on the verge of death. I probably had something that doctors would call an autoimmune disease nowadays. It wasn't much known of medicine back then, though, so I can't be sure. Then I got pneumonia, and I knew I was done for."

"Fuck, so you've been sick your whole life?"

"Yes. Couldn't really get out of bed much. I remember my mother's face when she took me outside in the sun, on the rare occasions she had enough time to. I had 6 other siblings, so she was a busy woman."

The fact that he was answering my questions without any complaints made me feel more at ease, making the knot in my stomach slowly disappear.

"Really? What happened to them?"

"They all knew I died, and since the form of pneumonia I had was contagious, there was no open casket. It was easy enough to fool them into thinking someone was in there, buried in the ground. I continued helping them out and left money from time to time, but they never saw me again."

"That's sad. Weren't you lonely?"

~Jeongin's POV~

"That's sad. Weren't you lonely?" Faith asked, a pitiful look in her eyes.

"Well, why would you want to be alone? Doesn't it get lonely?" Chris' words echoed inside my head, making me close my eyes.

Why does everyone assume I've been lonely?

And why does it feel like they are right?

"I don't know." I replied truthfully, feeling her hold my hand tighter.

"I am lonely." Faith continued, looking ahead. We weren't going anywhere in particular. I just wanted to get her out of the club and walk somewhere with her. Being in her proximity was not healthy for her, she would for sure end up bitten with the hunger growing in my body.

I don't want to bite her, though, or to taste her blood.

I don't think I would be able to stop if I did.

"I borrowed money to pay for my grandma's hospital bills. She was really sick, and then she died. It was all in vain. That's why I work two jobs now, to pay everything back."

"Hmm. I see. Which reminds me, why weren't you at the gas station?"

"How do you know I've worked there?" She raised an eyebrow.

Fuck.

"I followed you around for a bit, after we first met."

"No way! And you didn't meet me even once?!" She pouted. "I wanted to see you again so badly, Jeongin!"

"Didn't you promise me you'd forget about everything?" I raised my eyebrow playfully as well.

"I lied." She grinned. "The gas station shut down. The owners went bankrupt."

"Oh, that sucks."

"Indeed. That's why I'm apparently a part time hostess, part time prostitute at the new club."

"Nah, you won't go back there."

"I won't?" She asked, surprised.

"You won't."

"Jeongin, I..." she started speaking, her voice trembling. "I don't feel so good..."

"Why, what's wrong?" I turned around just in time to see her knees giving out.

She would've definitely fell, if I weren't there to catch her.

~

~Faith's POV~

Huh?

What... happened...?

I opened my eyes to see the curtains of an unfamiliar room, my head pounding with pain.

"Hello." A voice I didn't recognize sang next to my bed. I turned my head to see a man leisurely reading a book, his legs crossed. "Slept well?"

"Who... uhm... where am I?" I stumbled on my words and looked straight into the man's eyes, noticing a familiar crimson pigment in his irises.

"This would be Jeongin's room." The man replied, closing the book and meeting my gaze.

"Oh."

"And I am Chris, he asked me to look after you until he returns."

"Where did he go?"

"To eat."

"Oh."

Chris was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. His jaw was so sharp, I was certain it could cut through glass, and there was just something about him... emanating confidence, making you unable to look away.

"Will he be gone long?" I asked the man, noticing him shrug a bit.

"I'm not sure. I assume you're hungry as well? We bought you something earlier, hopefully you'll like it."

"Uhm... Chris?" I start, unsure, holding the duvet closer to my chest. I cursed myself for having worn such inappropriate clothes last night to the club. "Do you perhaps have... uhm... a change of clothes?"

"It's okay sweetie, we aren't that desperate to bite you just after seeing some skin. Most of us aren't, anyway."

Well, that surely is assuring.

"I am the one uncomfortable, though..." I grimaced. "Not because of you. It's just... not my usual style."

"Hmm, I guess you could borrow something from Jeongin's closet if you want."

"He's so tall, though."

"Changbin?" Chris said, as if the person he wanted to talk to was in the room. I was shocked to see the door open not even 2 seconds later.

"You asked for me?" A black-haired man walked inside. "Hey." He waved at me, acknowledging my presence. He seemed excited to be here, and he was smiling at me way too eagerly.

"Yea, can you bring some pants for Faith? Jeongin's clothes are too large."

"Sure. Or I could go buy something real quick. What size are you, Faith?"

"Uhm... I'm not sure? Probably S or M?" I reply with a shrug. I haven't bought clothes in forever, so I really didn't know.

"Mkay, be right back." Changbin left as quickly as he came.

"Wanna wait for him, or should we go down for you to eat?"

"We can wait..."

"Sure, whichever makes you more comfortable."

"Chris?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay with me knowing about...?" I hesitated.

"About what?" He raised an eyebrow as if he was daring me to keep talking.

"About the fact that you are... vampires?" I gulped, noticing the small twitch of his mouth.

"I don't have much choice. Each of us has an obsession, and we can't help it. You're Jeongin's."

Huh?

I blushed uncontrollably.

"So, what's yours?"

Chan chuckled. "Mine? Hard to say. Haven't found it yet."

"It?" I asked a bit offended. "Is that how you generally refer to people? Like they're objects?"

"What? No." He shook his head. "You misunderstood. Each of us has... their own thing they are extremely obsessed with for no particular reason. Think of it like this: what you specifically like as a human being gets amplified 1000%. Imagine your favourite thing in the world is Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream. If you become a vampire, you don't simply enjoy eating that the most. You are so obsessed with it, you would literally be almost unable to live without the thing."

"Oh, I assumed it would be... a person. Sorry."

"No, not necessarily. No worries." He waved his hand around in the air.

"So what other... obsessions do you guys have?"

"Well, the man you just met earlier-"

"I'm back!" Changbin burst through the door, startling me and making Chan chuckle.

"He can answer that himself." Chan grinned.

"Answer what?" Changbin raised an eyebrow, still supporting multiple shopping bags on his arms.

"Your obsession." I clarified, feeling that Chan was having a bit too much fun making me look like a curious idiot who wasn't able to ask things themselves.

"Oh, can't you figure it out?" Changbin smirked, dropping all bags on the floor and starting to flex his muscles.

Chan started clapping with a loud laugh, as if impressed by his friends' show.

I smiled with content and asked what's in the shopping bags. Changbin seemed kind of dejected that I didn't pay more attention to his muscles. I couldn't lie, he was attractive as fuck, but I got my eye on someone else already, so...

"Why did you buy so little? She's gonna need a lot more." Chan scolded Changbin as I examined the pants he brought back with him. I found out he brought me a few clothes, so I'd have a selection to choose from, and even if Chan thought it's not much, it was more than my whole wardrobe back home.

"You know how peculiar I.N is about style! It's best if she just goes shopping with him directly." Changbin whined.

"Who's peculiar about style?" Jeongin entered the room, seeing him in the daylight was a cultural reset. He was the most beautiful man who ever walked the earth, and I was grateful to finally be able to examine him clearly under good lighting. The same red eyes, crimson stained lush lips and prominent cheekbones brought me a sense of familiarity and I felt safe.

"No one, no one! Anyways, I'm gonna let you to it." Changbin excused himself, and Chan followed soon after.

"I'd say go with this blouse if you like those pants." Jeongin commented, seeing me be indecisive. Having little clothes to pick from would've been way easier.

"Thanks. How was the meal?" I asked him, genuinely curious. It would be a lie to say I was not interested in how vampires live, now that I found out for sure that they are real.

"Wh-what?" He stuttered. "Why would you want to... know that?"

"I mean... no reason in particular. I just want to know things about you, I guess?" I stumbled on my words as well, not expecting Jeongin to grow shy.

"It was... good, I guess? Could've been better."

"Oh. Uhm... do people... taste differently?"

"... Yea, they do."

"That's insane. Do you think I-"

"Did you eat breakfast?" Jeongin cut me off, and seeing the tip of his ears grow as red as his lips, I decided to drop it for now.

However, I was really curious to know what my blood tasted like. This was a weird new oddity of mine.

"No, not yet."

"You should, so let's go downstairs, what do you say?"

We both made our way to the kitchen where another red-haired vampire I didn't recognise was cutting up all sorts of vegetables. He quickly shifted his attention to the pan of the stove where two eggs were slowly getting cooked, sunny side up.

"Morning." He smiled briefly and waved. "I'm Minho, the guy in charge of your meals from now on."

"Hi, thank you. I'm Faith. Wait- from now on?" I turned and glanced at Jeongin.

"We were thinking that it would be best if you started living with us, so-"

"We're trying to be accommodating." Minho cut him off.

"Uhm, okay..." I looked again at Jeongin, unsure, then sat down at the table and watched as Minho placed a plate in front of me.

"I don't remember when I last ate breakfast." I mumbled, and Minho hummed, then sat down in front of me, elbows on the table and head in his hands, and looked at me expectantly. Jeongin also sat down next to me and started speaking.

"So, Faith, about that loan shark..."

"Yea?" I turned my head to him, but Minho was growing impatient, so he leaned over the table and moved the plate towards me. The gesture caught me off guard, making me chuckle slightly. I got the memo and took some bread, swirling it in the egg yolk, then brought it to my mouth to eat.

"I killed him." Jeongin said, as if it was the most usual thing in the world. I, caught off guard once again, for entirely different reasons this time, choked on the bread and started coughing. Minho gave me a glass of water, and I gulped it down.

"You what?" I asked after I collected myself.

"I killed him." Jeongin shrugged again.

"Oh." Was all I could say in return. What was I supposed to answer anyway? They probably kill people on the daily basis to eat, so-

"Oh my." Minho shook his head. "Bad, I.N, bad. When's the last time you killed someone?"

"70 years ago...?" Jeongin tilted his head, unbothered. "Although I killed two ever since meeting Faith."

"Tsk. Bad influence. What did the unlucky dudes do?" Minho chuckled.

"The first one tried to assault Faith, and the second one hit her."

"Mhm." Minho nodded.

70 years ago...?

"Don't you normally kill people when you suck their blood?" I asked bluntly, the two men's heads turning at me.

"No." Minho replied with a gentle smile. "We are a bit... conservative, in this regard. We let them live."

"Really? But... if you bite them and let them live, wouldn't they turn into vampires?" I asked, confused.

"What, do you think we're zombies or some shit? That it's transmissible like a virus?" Jeongin chuckled.

"I mean, it would make sense." I shrugged.

"No." Jeongin replied with a slight laugh.

"If people don't turn after getting bitten... how do they turn?"

"That's the first step, but it's not enough. A bite would make you feel sick for a few days at most, then you'd be back to normal." Minho clarified.

We continued chatting for a while, and it was such a weird feeling, sitting at the kitchen table talking sweet nothings in the morning, as if I've always been with them, as if we've known each other forever and shared food at breakfast every morning.

~

After six months of living with Stray Kids – as I learnt that that's what they were calling themselves – the feeling that I was home continued to grow in my chest.

It was certainly an unusual situation, living among vampires while my heart kept pumping blood, but seeing that all the other vampires in the house seemed to care for my comfort – at least out of respect for Jeongin – and didn't want to hunt me down or eat me or anything was pretty relieving. Even our bonds became stronger, and I was sure some of them considered me genuinely pleasant to be around, if not a friend. Felix and I would play games daily, Lee Know taught me how to cook simple meals, Seungmin taught me photography, Changbin would sometimes take me to the gym to get in shape, Han and I would sing songs together – even if his voice was angelic and mine was the opposite of that, Hyunjin and I would paint together, I would read and discuss books with Chan, and Jeongin...

Jeongin was, to me, the most important person in the world.

My feelings for him just grew and grew and grew and they were so big I was sure they were going to swallow me eventually. I also knew he felt something for me too, just from the way he cared for me. He treated me like I was a precious porcelain doll – with care and consideration. At night, he would hold me in his arms until I fell asleep, and he wouldn't leave my side even afterwards, even if he wouldn't be sleeping. He said it's enough just to hear me breathing, knowing I'm happy, and safe.

We haven't kissed again since that night in the club 6 months ago, which hurt. I wanted Jeongin in all ways. I wanted to be his, I wanted him to capture my lips and fuck me and bite me without thinking of any repercussions.

I wanted him to turn me into a vampire.

~

Tonight, just as usual, we were laying in bed, Jeongin was waiting for me to sleep. My head was on his shoulder, and my fingers were tracing the shape of his neck.

He was warm to the touch, and soft, which indicated to me that he must've eaten today, or yesterday.

Watching his neck in the soft moonlight, my fingers touched two scarred spots on his skin.

"Jeongin...?" I started.

"Hm?"

"These spots here... is this where you were bitten?"

"Yes."

"When you were turned?"

"Yea."

"Do you remember... how it happened?"

"Not much.... I told you before... I was a sickly child, and on my deathbed, a man visited me. I don't remember what he looked like, and I don't know why he did it, but... he decided I should live, so he bit my neck."

"But you said biting someone is not enough to turn them." I raised my head to look him in the eyes.

"Because it's not. There is still... something else you have to do to become a vampire."

"What is it?"

"You must drink a vampire's blood."

"Oh... how did you... do it?"

"The man cut his hand, and I felt a warm liquid getting poured in my mouth... his blood." Jeongin looked at me, trying to grasp my reaction. When there was none, he asked. "Aren't you shocked, Faith?"

"Why would I be? No... I'm actually... glad."

"Glad?" He chuckled. "Why?"

"Because thanks to that man, I got to meet you."

"I'm also glad we met, Faith." He cupped my cheek with his hand, and we looked at each other for a little while.

"Jeongin, I feel like you made me wait enough..." I said, and pressed my lips against him, as his hands moved on my waist and pulled me in his lap.

"I didn't mean to. It's just... it's hard to control myself around you sometimes, when all I want to do is sink my teeth in your neck and taste you."

I leaned in next to his ear and whispered, "Do it.", and I felt his grip on my waist tighten.

"What if... I wouldn't be able to stop...?" He looked into my eyes, seriousness laced into his glance.

"I don't care." I shook my head. "I love you, and I want you to have me in every possible way. Please. I want to be with you forever. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I feel happiest when you're around."

"I feel the same way." He smiled, cupping my cheek once again and raising his head to meet mine, pecking my lips.

"Can't you... drink from me, at least once, and... turn me?"

"Faith... I don't know if that's the best thing for you... I don't even know if loving me is right."

"Yet I do. But why... are you saying this?"

"Because of who I am." He smiled sadly. "I have a horrible past, and you certainly deserve better."

"I would take on the whole world for you, Jeongin. I thought you knew that..."

"Before deciding on anything... I must confess all my sins. If, after hearing about my past, you are still sure you want me... then Faith, I will do whatever you want me to do. I will submit to you wholly."

Jeongin started telling me about his early childhood, about his brothers and sisters, and his fond memories of them. He told me about turning into a vampire, how painful it was, how hungry he woke up, how he couldn't recognise himself anymore, as soon as he turned. He told me about his early vampire days, about the people he mercilessly murdered just for his own entertainment, about how he met Chris and the others, and how he got here.

He spoke for a long time, and I just listened, my head pressed against his chest, where normally a beating heart should keep him alive. There was no beating coming from his chest, though. Jeongin was dead, and I was alive, and it was hard to grasp, still.

After he finished talking, he changed our positions, making me lay down while his head laid on my chest this time.

"Your heart beats nicely..." he spoke softly, his ear pressed against me, listening closely to my unruly heart. After everything he told me, a normal person would've been scared, repulsed, even. But I...?

I now understood what made Jeongin himself, and I loved him even more now.

"Faith... don't you want children? A family? Growing old with someone you love? If you continue to pick me, you won't be able to have any of those things..."

"I don't need any of that." I replied truthfully. "As long as I have you..."

"I am a monster, and you want me?" He chuckled. I caressed his hair.

"You are not a monster. You are my everything. I am not religious, but... I told you before. You are the closest thing to God I'll ever encounter in this life, and the fact that we met... must've been fate, don't you think?"

"If I'm your God... you are my Faith." Jeongin spoke, then pulled down my blouse and kissed my chest softly. He moved upwards and kissed his way from my collarbones to my neck. He sucked a few marks on it, his sloppy, wet kisses making me moan, and after a few seconds, a stinging pain made me wince, and I grabbed his back for support. I felt his teeth sink deep in my neck, as he sucked my blood slowly, and my whole body stiffed in place from the pain.

"Shh." He whispered, taking out his fangs and kissing the sore spot. "You did well." He praised me, continuing to kiss my neck.

"How... was it?" I asked, trying to hold back tears. It hurt, but there was something erotic about the way he bit me and kept kissing me, and I felt my core aching for some friction, for any sort of contact between our bodies.

Jeongin must've known it too, for he pressed his crotch against mine, making me moan as his hard cock pressed against my pussy.

"The best blood I've ever tasted. Fuck, you taste so good, Faith. I want to bite you again." He said, and without missing a beat, his lips latched to my chest, just above my breast, and his teeth sank in my skin once again. Another sharp pain awoke my senses, and I rolled my head back, trying to relax.

Jeongin's left hand trailed on my body, cupping my right breast slightly, then touching the hem of my pants and underwear, taking them down in a swift motion. His thumb started working on my nub, his teeth still in me, and I spread my legs open for him, giving him full access.

The next time he moved his mouth, he brought it against mine, and kissed me, parting my lips with his tongue. I opened my mouth and let our tongues play, and the first thing I felt was the salty, metallic taste on his tongue. I was tasting my own blood in his mouth, and I moaned once again. I was already a wet mess, ready for him to take me however he wanted.

He once again seemed to know, as he took off his pants quickly and positioned himself between my legs, his dick touching my entrance. He pushed in, continuing to kiss me, and when he bottomed out, I saw stars.

A few thrusts in and he established a quick rhythm, hitting all the right places as I clenched around him. The sounds coming from my lips were obscene, but muffled by his mouth as he fucked himself into me.

"Fucking hell, Faith, this is just too good." He praised me again and again.

"This is not hell... it's heaven." I replied, through hurried breaths, feeling myself almost get over the edge. "I'm so close." I cried out, and as soon as I said that, Jeongin moved from my lips to my neck, on the other side that was still unmarked.

He pushed his dick in and out of me harshly, grazing my G spot over and over, and I felt my orgasm take over all my senses, making me see stars, moment when Jeongin's teeth marked my skin once more, biting me and drawing blood for him to drink.

The combination between pleasure and pain was euphoric, and I felt myself get dizzier and dizzier, completely fucked up.

"You're the best." Jeongin spoke, his own orgasm coming quickly enough as his warm seed released inside of me. He kissed my lips again, and then plopped down next to me.

I turned around to face him, when he bit his own wrist, blood dripping on the covers.

"Faith... the ultimate decision is yours. You can stay human, and I will love and cherish you until the end of your life, or... you could join me in this deathless life. Now, next time, or never. Whatever you choose, and whenever you're ready to choose, I will be happy to stay by your side regardless."

"Are you proposing to me after just one night together?" I joked, and Jeongin smiled kindly.

He put his wrist close to my head and I grabbed his arm, looking into his eyes. The choice was obvious, and I was determined, so I licked a long stripe of blood from his elbow until the bite, and I closed my eyes.

The taste was similar to when we kissed earlier, metallic and salty, only slightly different, as it was now not only my blood I was tasting, but his as well, and I found it so beautiful, knowing the same blood would flow through both our bodies.

I latched my mouth against the bite and closed my eyes shut, forcing myself to drink Jeongin's blood, even if the taste was making me nauseous.

He petted my hair gently, and after a few long seconds, my chest started throbbing with pain and I felt myself suffocating for air.

The pain was like nothing I've ever experienced before, not even when that loan shark would hit me and I would bruise for weeks on end. My whole body burned so badly, like it was on fire. My head hurt and I couldn't understand anything around me. All I could feel was the excruciating pain as Jeongin's blood travelled through me, changing every part I once held familiar, transforming it into something new, something different.

Jeongin took me in his arms against his chest, and held me tight as I was going through agony. I held onto him tight as well. It felt like the only one who could keep me anchored through this was him, so I snuggled closer to him and tried to breathe the pain away while he whispered kind words in my ears that I couldn't even hear well, let alone comprehend.

A few minutes later, my eyes grew heavy, and the world went blank.

~

The next morning, I woke up, still in Jeongin's arms. He was looking at me expectedly. Hunger pangs overcame me completely, and I felt myself unable to stay still.

"Faith..." he started, looking right into my eyes.

"Did it work...?" I asked him, and he chuckled.

"Red eyes suit you. How are you feeling?"

"I'm so, so hungry..." I replied truthfully, and he smiled.

"I'll teach you how we hunt."

"I can't believe I'm a vampire..." I said, snuggling myself closer to Jeongin. He took my face in his hands and kissed me, and my senses were on overdrive. I felt everything amplified a thousand times. Is this what Chan meant about the obsession? Was Jeongin mine, as I was his?

"I'm happy you chose to be with me forever, Faith."

"You also chose me. Thank you for that, Jeongin. I love you. Truly."

"I love you too. Should we go downstairs?"

We stood up and my body felt foreign. I had more strength than ever, and with just a glance outside, I could hear each individual bird singing in trees as far away as the eyes could reach. I was able to hear people's voices that I couldn't even see, listen to their conversations, I could smell the smoke I saw coming from the chimneys in the distance, and each and all my senses were intensified.

We made our way downstairs and the only ones in the kitchen were Chan and Minho.

"Good morning." Chan smiled. "Faith, you... you're different."

"Yes. I feel different, too..."

"I love your new smell. It's no longer... appetising." Minho smirked.

"Welcome to our family." Chan came next to me and took me in his arms, hugging me tight.

"How didn't any of you bite me until now?" I asked. "I feel so hungry and I smell someone like 10 houses over and the only thing I want to do is go and fucking snap their neck and drink their blood."

"You'll learn to control it, eventually." Chan assured me.

"Yea. It's all about self-control, missy." Minho replied, and I playfully slapped his arm.

~

It's been more than three years since I've been with Stray Kids, and life, as I once knew it, is now completely different. Or should I say death?

My heart stopped beating three years ago, and with it, the need for normal food, water, oxygen and any other things that make humans... human. The only craving I have now is blood, but after a lot of practice, I can now hunt by myself without needing someone else to help me not lose control. I learnt how to pick my prey and how much I can drink from someone without messing up their whole week.

My bond with Stray Kinds only strengthened with time. They are the family I never had, and the love we have for each other transcended even life and death.

It's funny, really. All these years, I tried so desperately hard to believe that the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train, that it wouldn't end up crushing me under its weight. I wanted so hard to believe that life could be different, that things will change. Now, I know that the light at the end of the tunnel has been and will always be Jeongin, who is my love, my sun, my everything, whom I love unconditionally, who made my heart beat even after it stopped beating, who took my breath away even after I stopped breathing. He is my religion, and I am his Faith.

My days are, for the first time ever since I was born, peaceful, tranquil, and the thought that there will only be serene days from now on, next to Jeongin, my husband, and our family, all the vampires in Stray Kids, is the most beautiful thing in the world.

~The End~ 

[charmedchapters]

September Wrap Up

date read: 9/30

Lady Macbeth really had me in the first half, I usually struggle with historical fiction/fantasy but it just gave all the right vibes for an early autumn read. I haven't read the original Macbeth in years and years and years. But I really enjoyed this retelling in the point of view of Lady Macbeth with a few very satisfying changes made to make it a great feminist narrative. There were a few minutes around the 75% mark where I considered putting it down, but the pace and events in the ending more than made up for it imo!

my rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

date read: 9/25

There's something about this book that made it a really unique read for me, I think it was how it was completely written in the point of view of a child experiencing a horrific trek through the woods while being lost and unsure that she would survive all while in the company of her hero/baseball player, Tom Gordon. That's probably it. It was easy to forget that at times this this is a thriller and not a survival guide for wayward kids. Armed with her lunch for the day and a Walkman, 9 year old Trisha finds herself lost and the only thing that keeps her going is the constant encouragement of her imagination, presented in the form of Tom Gordan. I enjoyed every bit of this book and found it to be a quick read. Some of Stephen King's books can be polarizing with other reviewers. This one isn't the best, but well deserving of my 4 stars.

my rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Red River Road (Downes) date read: 9/13 A little slow in some parts, I found it easy to miss small details and mix up characters. But the story, for the most part, was interesting. my rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ The Swimmer (White) date read: 9/18 This one reminded me so much of The Girl on the Train! Remember when we were all obsessed about that book? Of course there are some differences in the path this one took and other small details. But I did like it and it was a nostalgic read. I recommend it if you're also a McFadden fan, like myself. my rating: ⭐⭐⭐ The Last Party (Torre) date read: 9/13 I love characters that are made to be hated, so this was a great read imo. It's a reopening of an old case, the question of an inmate's innocence and only two people know the truth. But do they make it to see the end of the book? I really need to read more from A.R. Torre because I didn't expect any of the twists in this one! my rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

(both The Swimmer and The Last Party are on KU with audio options)

date read: 9/7

I've generally enjoyed most of Stephen King's books, as his talent for developing characters and giving them depth is unparalleled. However, I struggled with this one. The repeated use of certain words and phrases, like "strap-on" and "smucking," became so irritating. While I usually appreciate his horror and fantasy work, this book didn’t hit.

my rating: ⭐⭐

date read: 9/5

This book was incredibly twisted and devastating. Sayers's portrayal of his life as he transitions from a privileged teen to a victim of kidnapping and brainwashing is masterfully written. Dark Room Etiquette is immersive and heartbreaking, evoking deep frustration as I found myself rooting for a character I initially disliked but ultimately came to empathize with. Check trigger warnings!

my rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Hi! This is my first post, I don't know who this will reach, but if you read this far then thank you! I use to be a book blogger and bookstagram poster but I just wanted to start talking about books again and share little blurbs about what I'm reading/have read. I have a lot of ideas for this blog and want to stay consistent. Please follow if you're interested in reviews that aren't influenced by booktok, mixed genre and general book rambling! 💗

[blueberryshelves]

__________________________________________

Book Review

Title:  The Poison Season Author: Mara Rutherford

Series: Standalone

No. of Pages: 390

ISBN: 978-1-335-01243-2

Synopsis:

Outsiders are always given a choice: the Forest or the lake. Either way, they're never heard from again.

Leelo has spent her entire life on Endla, coexisting with the bloodthirsty Forest and respecting the poisonous lake that protects her island from outsiders who seek to destroy it. But as much as Leelo cares for her community, she struggles to accept that her younger brother will be exiled by his next birthday, unless he gains the magic of enchanted song so vital to Endla.

When Leelo sees a young outsider on the verge of drowning in the lake, she knows exactly what she's supposed to do. But in a moment that will change everything, Leelo betrays her family, her best friend, and Endla by making an unthinkable choice.

Discovery could lead to devastating consequences for both Leelo and the outsider, Jaren, but as they grow closer, Leelo realizes that not all danger comes from beyond the lake—and they can only survive if Leelo is willing to question the very fabric of her society, her people, and herself.

__________________________________________

What did I think of the book?

The Poison Season by Mara Rutherford My rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 of 5 stars I picked this up wanting something different, and with the gorgeous cover, I dived into the world of Endla. At first, the story was really slow going, but as soon as you hit that 50% mark, everything starts to pick up, and I wanted to flip through page after page all day to see what would happen. If anything, in the last 3rd of the book, I felt like I couldn't catch my breath with the amount of revelations and secrets that were brought to light in the story. On one hand, that kind of tension was exciting, but it was also teetering slightly too far over the line into being muddy with the details. Eliminating maybe one or two of the twists could have cleaned it up a little, but that's the only real negative I can say about this book. The romance between Leelo and Jaren was very wholesome and clean, and had my heart aching as I read their scenes. It made for quite a nice contrast with what was going on with the relationships on Endla before the secrets started unraveling, and flowed well into the themes of 'torn between loyalties', your heart or your responsibilities, and carving a path for yourself in life when your world is demanding other things from you. I also enjoyed how this book touched on things like the way generational lies and fear impact the young.

Endla reminds me a bit of the carnivorous island in Life of Pi, but with a fair few differences that in a lot of ways makes it scarier, in my opinion. I quite enjoyed the world building around this, and the author did an awesome job in bringing out a vivid picture of what this island is like in the book. Some of my favorite scenes that show this would be chapter 23, pages 141-142, and chapter 30, page 188.

… The bird cocked its head at Jaren, studying him, and this time when he hummed the tune, he remembered a few more notes than he'd sung before. But his elation was short-lived. One moment the bird was there, innocently watching him, and the next, it was gone. Jaren hadn't seen the long, snaking root rise up from the ground and wrap silently around the bird's leg until it was too late. He stood, horrified, but the only sign that the bird had ever been there at all was a few shiny feathers, drifting slowly to the Forest floor. Jaren backed up to the shack and crawled inside, closing the door firmly behind him. - page 141-142

These scenes are layered into more "innocent" ones, where the characters are unsuspecting or minding their own business, so it kind of catches you off-guard when something like the above quote happens. It was like a constant reminder to not forget the nature of this island the characters are on, which when I was really immersed into the story, gave me absolute chills.

Favorite character/s: I don't have a particular favorite, but I admire the character development in Leelo as she goes from being constantly controlled by her family, people, and her home, to finding her own self and strength by the end of the story. Same for her mother as well, when she finally stood up to her sister in the end, and put her daughter before everyone else's lies.

What drew me to this book? The title of the book, it sparked my curiosity immediately.

Stars: Easy 4 out of 5 stars, a wonderful read.

View all my reviews

[itsgeecheebitch]

Until Darkness Descends

CHAPTER: 32

RATING: Explicit

MAIN PAIR: Ardyn Izunia x Reader

SEC PAIR: Gladiolus Amicitia x Reader

         You squinted from the harsh light beaming down from the sky as you emerged from the cave. It was also hot, thawing the ice from your bones and making you forget about the past 24 hours you spent in icy darkness. 

         The rush of the waterfall was a welcoming sound and you watched as the sun skipped across the river. One by one, you and the boys climbed down the slippery rocks, their surfaces bleached white from the ferocious sun in the sky. Judging from its position in the heavens it had to be early morning. 

          Once you all reached the ground, Prompto stretched like a cat lounging in the heat of the day. An enthusiastic smile pulled his lips ear to ear. “Ah, the sun never felt so good!” He exclaimed. “I never wanna leave it again.”

           Gladiolus chuckled, his hand finding its place in yours. “Don't get too comfortable. We just may have to go back to another cave”

              “Hopefully not too soon.” Prompto said.

               “Honestly.” Noctis sighed. “I could kill for a bath.”

               “And food.” The blond sauntered over to Ignis. “By the way, Iggy, what’s for breakfast?”

           The man in question faltered for a moment, taken off guard. “Well, if a haven is nearby I could whip up some pancakes for everyone”.

                “Woohoo, Iggy, you're the best!”

            The boys carried on as they walked ahead of you and Gladiolus. You took the time to examine your current state, the shock of red that sullied your tattered attire. There was no way you could return to the city looking like this. You would surely give the people a scare with the amount of dried blood that covered you head to toe. 

                 “Ugh, I’m covered head to toe in blood.” You said as you pinched your white shirt. Flakes of red fell from your top as you released the garment. “Everyone is going to think I just survived a massacre.”

                  “There's a change of clothes in the trunk. I'll stand guard while you change.”

              A tortured groan snapped you out of your conversation. Noctis fell to his knees while gripping his head. Alarmed, you and the others rushed to his side. Just as quickly as his distress started, it ended. 

             Prompto laid a hand on his shoulder just as the prince opened his eyes. “Noct, are you okay, buddy?”

            He blinked a few times, his deep blue eyes clouded with confusion. “W-what did I…where was that?”

                    “What is it?” Gladiolus stepped forward.

                    “A hole in the ground…something burning. The meteor?”

                    “You saw the disk of Cauthess?” Ignis whispered in disbelief.

            He had a vision? As far as you knew the prince never had one before, and accompanied by a headache as well. Goosebumps blazed across your arms, it reminded you too much of your predicament. “What does this even mean?”

                     “I dunno, but it feels like I’m being called there.” He said.  

            But why the disk of cauthess? That’s when your mind went back to the black book you found. The black star, was it referring to the meteor? It wasn’t coincidental that Noctis would have a vision around the same time you discovered that story. The sight of the meteor was important somehow, you could feel it in your bones. You guys needed to go there however you could.

            Gladiolus seemed to read your mind since he said, “maybe we should take a closer look at this disk.” 

                    “Then look no further than the outlook. We could use the viewer thingies” Prompto suggested.

            Ignis sighed, “it's no substitute for being onsite, but it would be a start. Let's see what we can glean of Noct's condition once we arrive.”    

           You and your friends made your way back to the regalia. After changing clothes, you were back on the road. A rock song you’ve never heard before blasted through the speakers, competing with the boys’ conversation about pancakes. But your mind wasn’t on food at the moment, your belly was as dead as a salted lake. 

            Your mind kept going back to the book, the tales it conjured, and its possible connection to the disk. If the book was true, then ,what you believe was an illness, fell from the sky. What you couldn’t understand was why it was compared to sin? You’ve read the history books, you knew this land was ravaged by disease a thousand times before the meteor impact, but never were they ever viewed as an act of the gods, or the heavens. 

           That also leads you to your next question, the question about this Adagium. Was that the name of the illness? You shook your head. Adagium was used as a noun, meaning it’s an entity of some sorts, and it's somehow connected to the illness that came with the meteor. That also reminds you…

                     “Oh I almost forgot, I found something while I was separated from you guys.” Green glittery light poured from your hand as you conjured the book. All of your friends’ eyes were on it the moment it materialized in your hand.

                     “What is that?” Gladiolus’ voice punctured through the music bleeding from the speakers.

           Ignis lowered the volume as you spoke. “It’s a book I found.” You handed it to your boyfriend. You addressed the others while he flipped through the pages. “I found it in some hidden room in the cave. It looked like it had been abandoned so I doubt anyone's going to miss-”

                       “Wait!” Prompto’s panicked voice cut your monologue short. He turned fully in his seat, his aquatic eyes blazing with fearful excitement. “ You're telling me you took something from a creepy daemon infested tomb??! What if it's cursed?? You're not supposed to take anything from a tomb!”

                         “Technically the book didn't come from the tomb. It came from a room in a cave that happened to also hold a tomb, so I doubt we're going to get struck by lightning if we read it.” Gladiolus reasoned. 

                         “So what’s so interesting about it?” Noctis asked.

                         “It talked about this thing, referred to as the black star, that fell out of the sky. It changed people, the writer said it revealed people's sins on their skin, whatever that means, but I think it was an illness they mistaken for divine judgment.”

                         “Sounds pretty medieval.” Prompto said, brushing his blond hair away from his face.

          Just as you were about to say more, Gladiolus interjected. “This doesn't look like Lucian. Is this a foreign language?” He asked as he flipped to another readable block of text.

          Prompto’s bright eyes lit up with intrigue. “I didn’t know you understood multiple languages, Aera.”

                          “I don't, but I was able to read it somehow.”

          The car tires screeched as the care slammed to a halt. The rapid momentum change nearly flung you out of your seat. Ignis turned away from the road, his eyes narrowed on the book in Gladiolus’ hands. “Allow me to have a look at it.” He flipped through the pages the moment the book was placed in his hands. For a moment the only sound filling the silence was the whisper of pages being flipped and the low tune humming through the speakers.

          After a few minutes, he turned to you again with an inquisitive glint in his eyes. “This is Proto-Lucian, a dead language dating back 2,000 years. This dialect has not been used for a millenia so how were you able to read it?”

          The air shifted and all eyes were on you again. You don’t know why the revelation slapped you into a stupor. You had a feeling the book was old, it was written as though the writer lived through the events as they were unfolding. But to hear Ignis say it felt like he dropped a massive pile of questions on your lap, ones you didn’t think to sort through before. 

           It did alarm you for a moment that you were able to understand a language you’ve never encountered before, or did you? Questions unfurled like a rose in bloom in your head. You had no answers to any of them. 

            With nothing else to say, you shrugged your shoulders. An air of foreboding wrapped around you as you said, “I don’t know…”

[theseventhoffrostfall]

Back to Through Struggle, the Stars, and the second half of the book (yeah, all that prior was the first half) opens with a chapter that's such a marked improvement over all that came prior I was briefly convinced that the author wrote the first half years ago and just kept it as-is when he went on to finish it, or brought on some other military-adjacent friend to ghostwrite it or something. That is to say it rose to the dizzying heights of okay for the most part.

We switch to an Acadamy buddy of our guy Niel, who goes by Rand. Again, accurate, as military personnel are known for using first names exclusively. Regardless, Rand is in the Army as an artillery officer (don't ask why he went to the same academy as some space force navy guy). We get a brief mention that surface-to-orbit laser artillery has a secondary sighting laser for analyzing atmospheric disturbance and adjusting the focus of the main laser. I'm almost 100% certain that wouldn't solve the problem, but hey, it's proof that the author is aware the problem exists.

The war which was declared at the end of the first half has finally broken out proper, and Rand is stationed on a world consisting of one American continent with the rest under Chinese control, which some of you may recall is the sort of arrangement that's common in my primary Sci fi setting specifically for making more sense than every planet being under unilateral control. Randward is forced to ditch his guns as most of his battalion is wiped out. The order comes to surrender, because it turns out it's hard to argue with 70% of a planet plus an enormous invasion fleet that's claimed near-total aerospace superiority so his surviving platoon members link up with the remnants of the local police department to Red Dawn it. I'm as shocked as you are they didn't outright call it Yellow Dawn.

It's even mentioned that the Chinese plan to round up the American colonists and ship them off to an American holding to be repatriated, rather than putting them in death camps or making them into wet market soup or something, so there's even some actual restraint being shown here. Unfortunately, that moment is also what shook me out of that illusion of "Hey, this is so not-bad it might be a different author entirely." The perspective switching abruptly, jarring and completely unmarked and undifferentiated between third person limited and third person omniscient (like, perhaps, a news article switching from an interview to an editorial section providing information and context on the situation around that interview) has been present thus far, but it's just always been the smallest of the vast problems in play. The information about the Chinese plan for the planet comes jammed right in the middle of the narrative of Rand fighting the initial invasion.

Overall, I rate this chapter a GWOT/Y2K. It really is a 2011 time capsule if you know what to look for, to perhaps a greater degree than the rest of the book. Most notably because they're starting a Red Dawn gang and this was not long after they made that terrible Red Dawn remake, but more generally conventional invasions are shown as a swift, brutal, all-or-nothing blitzkrieg that would make sense to someone whose idea of such is Desert Storm, OIF, operations like Panama or even the conventional aspects of Vietnam (yeah people like to forget that basically every conventional engagement in Iraq, Afghanistan and Vietnam were quick and decisive US victories) but makes much less sense in the context of actual peer conflict as we've seen it play out historically, where from Normandy to Korea we see a burst of violence to establish a foothold and opportunistic rushes through breached lines but otherwise a steady, grinding back-and-forth advance. Again, Red Dawn was probably an influence, but it's perhaps interesting to think that we find a guerilla campaign in completely occupied territory to be a borderline romantic notion, as opposed to a strategically besieged, desperate holding action of conventional warfare, which we see as the grim nightmare it is.

Which is the other half of its datedness, in that everyone is shocked and appalled by the notion of the US forces on the planet surrendering, because that's just Not A Thing That's Done. Again, GWOT-era notion where the notion of going back to the negotiating table after a truce was called in a war was largely dead in favor of the idea that every war ends in a regime change and surrender of any kind is tantamount to absolute defeat forever. Everyone in this largely peacetime army that really has no living combat vets is just 100% willing to go to the absolute extremes to fight on for no particular reason (the civilians, everyone apparently knows because this information was once again between two paragraphs of in-character narration, will just be shipped off to American territory unharmed, and "help will arrive" is the sort of notion you get when you know you're in a story and the cavalry will show up grandly at the end, not when you're waging a losing war and just lost a planet) and this is despite the fact that America as the monopolar hegemon hasn't been the case for like a century at this point.

Hell, this dates it to both early in 2011, before America's de facto withdrawal from Iraq, and from I believe a few years later when that US naval vessel accidentally trespassed in IIRC Chinese waters and the crew was detained before being sent along. While this was a bit excessive (typically such incidents warrant the response of just escorting the intruding ship out of your territory, though detention is indeed within the rights of the encroached-upon party) I remember there being some intense backlash and anger at the crew "shaming the entire country" for, I dunno, not dying gloriously at their guns and defying all possible notions of obeying international law and justice just for the vague notion of not surrendering for any reason no matter how valid. This also dates it to before 2022 to present day, when half the country would respond to the notion of a war with China by espousing that China has traditional Christian values and opposing their conquest is a demonic money laundering scheme.

Overall, a standout chapter for being mediocre but interesting to analyze rather than just blandly fascinating but interesting to venomously critique. I don't wanna give anyone the wrong impression, though. This book is not The Devil Calls the Tune. This book is not Guard at The Gates of Hell. This book isn't even Dark Operator. On the seismograph of bad military science fiction this book has yet to shake the needle. It's just bad in a way that makes it interesting to break down rather than bad in a way that makes me want to kill the author with my bare hands. Believe it or not, I still haven't wanted to kill the author once.

Well, there's time for that to change, because the next chapter goes back to Neil. Back to the grind for me.

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Thinking about the the worst Hokage, minus Hiruzen is really difficult… it’s a bit like trying to make a mortal rating of characters based on decisions they made when they were in power. Problem with that is assuming that they are above human feelings and bias… No one is going to be completely good or completely evil, and while an improvement may not be perfect it can still be better than the previous situation.

Hashirama made a school to teach kids how to fight, yes. Which was better than what was happening before where they were sent off to “learn” on the battlefield.

Tobirama had very strong prejudices against the Uchiha, which were deeply ingrained in him as a means of survival after a lifetime of fighting against them. He also advanced a lot of the institutions and systems that set Konoha up to thrive.

Minato may not have done much but when faced with a catastrophe, he did his best to minimize the damage and casualties.

Hiruzen (and I say this as really despising him) probably genuinely thought he was doing the right thing when he took over as Hokage again after Minato’s death and in all of the terrible things that happened after.

Tsunade was doing the best she could moving from crisis to crisis but it was also a job that she didn’t want, and she made that known.

I don’t know enough about what Kakashi does as Hokage but there will certainly be things in it that weren’t the best option.

I think that sometime people forget that leaders are human too, capable of making less than perfect decisions or able to turn things into a perfect utopia in just a few years. There is another problem in there where changing people’s takes an incredibly long time and is a very slow and painful process… but I’ve already already dumped a bunch of stuff here.

See i don’t expect any of them to be perfect. I don’t think Kakashi is a ‘perfect Hokage’ as there is no such thing.

But i do hold a certain standard and ‘clan Massacure’ is far below that standard.

Tobirama loses points for admitting he thinks that ‘if the Uchiha clan died to protect Konoha then it’s a good thing’. That’s never an acceptable stance to have. Children were killed and there’s never an acceptable time to agree that it was alright to Massacure children.

As you said Tsunade was just trying to survive and keep the village going for the five years she was in power.

I’ve said it myself, Minato wasn’t Hokage long enough to be a good or bad Hokage. He never got a chance to do anything meaningful.

Kakashi’s time as Hokage are only really addressed in ‘Kakashi Retusden’ so you’d have to read the book, but even he’s bias against himself. Like this man actually did do some meaningful good changes (capture enemies instead if killing and even going so far as having iruka teach him how to knock an enemy out because he’s only ever known to kill. The Acadamy being open to everyone even if they’re not going to be Shinobi and just want to learn things that can help them in their every day life, creating trade agreements with the other villages and helping Konoha become an economic giant instead of just being a shinobi village). Kakashi did all of this and still craps on himself so much that he thinks Minato, a man who had no opportunity to do anything as hokage, was more deserving of a book than him. He also never expected anyone to like him. He thinks about an old woman in Kiri who spit on him during a visit and he holds no anger toward her because he understands people are going to be angry and hurt after all the war. Her son died to a Konoha shinobi and Kakashi accepts her anger being directed at him)

I will say that Tobirama making the system as is is honestly not something i look up to. Like, i know he may not have intended it to be used the way it was, but five year olds at the acadamy learning to fight? Six-ten year olds doing the chunin exams? He set those things up and as someone who was a child soldier for a war against the Uchiha i HATE it. His brother wanted so much better for future generations and Tobirama focused soley on making Konoha a military village and nothing else

[brightbeautifulthings]

Find Him Where You Left Him Dead by Kristen Simmons

"'You're more likely to get eaten by an alligator than die in a plane crash, which is twenty-nine million to one, by the way.'"

Year Read: 2023

Rating: 3/5

About: When they were kids, five friends started a mysterious game called Meido. Only four of them survived. Now in high school, the remaining four are summoned by the ghost of their dead friend to complete the game by dawn or be trapped inside its uncanny Japanese underworlds forever. I received a free e-ARC through NetGalley from the publishers at Tor Teen. Trigger warnings: character death, body horror, gore, captivity, violence, fires, drowning, spiders, neglect.

Thoughts: This is such a great title, isn't it? I would have picked it up based on that alone, but the premise of a horror game really grabbed me. I forget sometimes how hit and miss that trope can be, and it's not my favorite here. The readers don't know the rules because the characters don't know the rules, so there's never any sense about what's working or not working in the "game" or when/why they're going to be punished for breaking the rules. Everything is sort of hastily (and sometimes wrongly) explained after the fact. The game structure ultimately ends up being a bit flimsy, and I feel a little bait and switched into reading what's more like a standard other-world dark fantasy novel.

And we know I struggle with fantasy. It was extra hard for me here because each time the characters "level up," I had to reinvest myself in an entirely new setting with new monsters and NPCs. The chapters are plenty long enough to do this, and Simmons excels at world-building and descriptions, but it didn't stop me from feeling bogged down in all the changes and details. I suspect this has far more to do with me not really being a fantasy person (not even horror fantasy, unfortunately) than anything the novel does wrong. The Japanese folklore elements are really interesting and creatively done, and that was probably my favorite aspect of the book.

The characters are enjoyable and distinct enough, if not terribly memorable. The book relies a lot on their past friendships to ground the group, but given that we're not present for that and they all hate each other now, it's not as effective as it could be. Then there's also the fact that the game makes them randomly start forgetting things, so they suddenly start acting like friends again. There's not a lot of consistent development among the five of them, aside from a couple shaky romantic subplots. I did like the build-up to one character reveal far more than I liked another. It works well the first time, and the second time I was just bothered that everything kept changing. Pick a plot point/setting/backstory and stick with it, please. I suspect most of this would come clear on a second read, but I'm not invested enough for that, nor to continue with the series.