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i-will-cry-you-a-river · 6 months ago

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Day 5 of @sangyaoweek

Nie Mingjue

The creatures, ghosts, whatever entities Nie Huaisang couldn't identify attacked them relentlessly. They grew more aggressive with each passing moment, which was seriously bad news for the two in defense. Exhausted from the situation with the saber spirits, they were both struggling to fend off the claws and demonic energies.

“If I survive this, I will never forget to train ever again,” Nie Huaisang hissed through his teeth, swinging his battle fan to divert an attack. A quick look at his companion showed that Meng Yao was in a similar state; his usually put-together look was nowhere to be found. Despite their best efforts, the enemies’ overwhelming strength was beginning to take its toll. Their movements became sluggish, their breathing became labored, and their limbs were shaking from overextension.

All in all, they were fucked.

“We can't keep this up,” Meng Yao panted, his eyes darting around for any sign of escape. His lovely brain was trying to find a way out of the situation, but Nie Huaisang knew the only way they could survive was to go back to the castle, but it also had its own perils, so they were basically between the rock and the hard place.

Except-

“Oh, shit,” Nie Huaisang murmured, as his brother, followed by a group of Nie cultivators, charged into the battle. It wasn't like he was not thankful for the sudden help - but did it have to be Nie Mingjue?! To add insult to injury, it only took a few swift, decisive strikes to cut down the ghosts (demons? Monsters? Nie Mingjue would definitely know, but Nie Huaisang would not ask him. That would lead to even more punishment.), who were unable to withstand Baxia’s full force. There wasn't even any need for the other cultivators - Nie Mingjue has always been a force to reckon with.

Just one more thing to add to the long list of qualities Nie Huaisang did not have.

Even Meng Yao seemed to be enamored with the Clan Leader, which, fair, but-

It didn't mean Nie Huaisang liked that. Meng Yao was his friend. His companion. His-

Anyways

What made him stumble and struggle, exhausting him beyond belief, took Nie Mingjue not even a blink of an eye to take care of. Story of Nie Huaisang’s life.

“Huaisang!” Nie Mingjue’s eyes widened as he took in who he had saved, then rushed to his side. Warmth filled the younger man's chest. Even after what he had done, his brother's first reaction was relief and worry. “Are you alright?”

Struggling to even stand, now that the ghost(ly things) were defeated, his legs gave up, and fell to the ground, sending a weak smile towards his da-ge. “Of course! We are completely fine - we were just about to kill those things!”

The look on Nie Mingjue's face told him everything. Nie Huaisang sighed, letting a helpless look appear on his face. “Thank you, da-ge. It is great to see you,” he admitted.

Fondness and maybe even love were in the Clan Leader’s eyes, but as soon as those emotions appeared, they were quickly followed by the always-present anger.

Mingjue strode towards his younger brother, his face a mixture of worry and anger. "Nie Huaisang!" He shouted, his voice echoing through the dark forest, making Meng Yao jump in fright, as he was the only one amongst the present people who never had the luck to hear the mighty roar of the Nie Clan Leader. "What were you thinking, running off like that?"

Nie Huaisang, sighed, trying to catch his breath, and met his brother's gaze with defiance. Sure, he wanted to go home, but this situation right there showed how right he was! He was NOT Nie Mingjue. He was not a good heir, and he was never going to be as much of a warrior as his brother was. It was impossible!

"I was tired of being suffocated, Da-ge! You and the clan demanded so much from me, and I needed to breathe! I'm not like you!” He yelled in helpless frustration. His brother was never going to understand him, because he was Nie Mingjue. He was perfect, he had always been perfect! And that's amazing, his brother has always been his favorite person, but when others wanted him to become this perfect god-like person, who was a formidable opponent in the battleground, had a mind for strategy, and was a righteous cultivator who always knew what was right and what was wrong…

Nie Mingjue's eyes blazed with familiar frustration, echoing his own. "You think running away solves anything? You have responsibilities! Do you know how worried I was?"

Responsibilities! Always the responsibilities!

"Responsibilities?!" Nie Huaisang snapped back, his voice rising. "All you care about is to form me into a mini you! You never consider what I want!"

Their voices clashed, each accusation and yell adding fuel to the fire. Nie Huaisang knew his brother loved him, and he adored his brother back, but the two of them were completely different people, and Nie Mingjue couldn't understand that. Nie Huaisang had his own strengths and weaknesses, but Nie Mingjue didn’t see that. He never saw that!

The tension between them was palpable, and the other cultivators stood back, giving the brothers space to vent their emotions. Just like usual.

"Do you think I enjoy being the one in charge?" Nie Mingjue's voice softened, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his anger. "It's not easy. But it is my, your - our heritage. I just want to protect you, Huaisang, to give and teach you everything you need in the future. I need you to take things seriously because one day, it will all be on your shoulders."

Nie Huaisang's defiance began to crumble. He didn't get why he had to be the heir, but… if there was one thing this adventure taught him was that he might have been just as stubbornly defiant as Nie Mingjue was pushy. He sighed, and said, "I know, Dage. But I can't live in your shadow forever. I need to find my own way. I can't be Nie Mingjue when I'm Nie Huaisang.”

They both paused, the raw honesty of their words hanging in the air. It felt as if Nie Huaisang had been in his third battle that day, that it was his most perilous one yet. But slowly, very slowly, the anger seemed to ebb away, replaced by understanding. Nie Huaisang hoped that maybe they finally found a common ground, that maybe from then on they could not just yell at each other, but communicate with each other.

Nie Mingjue sighed, placing a heavy, yet surprisingly gentle hand on his brother's shoulder. "I understand, Huaisang. I’ll give you more freedom, but you must promise me you'll take your responsibilities seriously."

Nie Huaisang nodded, tears glistening in his eyes. He never would have thought that they could compromise, but… It felt freeing. More freeing than lazing around all day, more freeing than running away. "I promise, Da-ge. I'll come back home and do my best. I just needed you to see me for who I am and not demand to become you."

Nie Mingjue’s usually stern expression softened, and surprising Nie Huaisang, he pulled the younger brother up into a fierce embrace. "I love you, didi. I’m so glad you’re safe."

Nie Huaisang melted. There was no better way to express how he felt at that moment. His bones, his insides, his brain - everything melted.

“I love you too,” he whispered, gripping Nie Mingjue’s robes as if he was afraid of waking up and realizing it was only a dream.

But as they pulled away from each other, Nie Mingjue was still there, his eyes were still soft when he looked at him, and Nie Huaisang felt he could finally breathe.

Suddenly, Nie Huaisang realized that not only their clan members were the witnesses of their show, but Meng Yao as well, which- awkward. He turned towards the other young man, but before he could say sorry, Nie Mingjue preluded him.

“Thank you for looking after my silly brother,” he said, bowing his head towards the wide-eyed young man.

“No, no, this one did not-!” He stammered, trying to bow in front of the Nie Clan Leader.

“But you did!” Nie Huaisang interjected. “Da-ge, this is Meng Yao. He helped me so much! He is the best companion I could have ever wished for. He was the reason we could get out of-” the young man narrowed his eyes, “Don't think we won't talk about what's in there,” he nodded towards the Ancestral Halls. “Not now. But you can't keep me in the dark anymore.”

Nie Mingjue looked like he was in pain, but nodded his head. Turning back to Meng Yao, his expression softened. "Meng Yao, I cannot thank you enough for looking after my brother."

Meng Yao shook his head, trying to downplay his role. As if he wasn't one of the reasons Nie Huaisang got up in the mornings. As if his presence didn't fill him with happiness. "There's no need for thanks. I did what anyone would have done."

"No," Nie Mingjue insisted, his voice firm but kind. "You’ve done more. You helped my didi. The Nie Clan owes you a debt of gratitude. How can I repay you?"

Meng Yao hesitated, glancing at Nie Huaisang. He didn't want to. In fact, he hated it, because now that Nie Huaisang decided to go back home, Lanling was so far away, and he wanted to keep Meng Yao for himself, but… He had been selfish enough. If there was anything he could do to help Meng Yao with his dreams - he would do it, even if it caused him pain.

He nodded encouragingly. "Meng Yao has somewhere he needs to go," he interjected helpfully. "He wants to go to Lanling."

Meng Yao swallowed, his hands trembling slightly. Outside of the anger about Nie Huaisang being a runaway heir, and the frantic fear and exhaustion during their fight with the saber spirits, that was the most emotional Nie Huaisang had seen him. It must have been something difficult he hid.

"I... I am Meng Yao, the bastard son of Jin Guangshan. All I want is to belong to my family, to be acknowledged."

Oh.

Oooh.

Yeah. That's a difficult secret for sure.

Nie Huaisang squinted. He couldn't see it. Meng Yao was obviously prettier and much, much better than that walking bag of STDs.

Meng Yao didn't belong to Lanling. He should go to the Unclean Realm with them.

But before he could say anything that would most likely lead to an argument, Nie Mingjue nodded. "It won’t be easy. But as you have proven yourself, helped Nie Huaisang and the Nie Clan, I will help you.”

Meng Yao's eyes widened with hope. "Thank you, Clan Leader Nie. I will do anything to prove my worth.”

Nie Mingjue sighed, "We will help you. You’ve earned that much."

It hurt Nie Huaisang - but there was nothing he could do. Meng Yao wanted his family, to be recognized. He could do nothing against his wishes. His companion would never forgive him. So, following his brother, he sent a shaky smile towards Meng Yao.

“But if you need anything else, just let me know, okay? I know the Jins are rich, and everything, but don't forget me, okay? If there's anything I can do to help you, just reach out to me,” Nie Huaisang added.

Meng Yao nodded hesitantly, then followed Nie Mingjue. As Nie Zonghui always had Nie Huaisang's saber with him, he could travel alone, but Meng Yao had to ride with Nie Mingjue. Nie Huaisang didn't feel resentful about it. Nope. He did not want to take care of Meng Yao, he did not wish his cultivation was better than what it was so he could be trusted with carrying someone else with him. No. Of course not.

The group of Nie cultivators moved swiftly through the air, their destination: Lanling. But first, they had to find a safer place to camp, so the two dead-tired young men could rest.

#sangyaoweek2024 #sangyao #nie huaisang #meng yao #mdzs #a big later than it should be 😅#but i'm working on it

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tumbling-darkling · 3 years ago

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Miraculous Ghosts

Danny and friends visit Paris and come across trouble, as well as the cities local superheroes.

Lately, Hawkmoth has been recycling villains. There are only so many people in Paris and not everyone gets emotionally vulnerable strongly enough or long enough to be akumatized. Those that do, and commonly like Mr. Pidgeon, usually had a certain fixation that was easy to exploit. The thing was, both Marienette and Chat Noir already knew their weakness, the items that would most likely get akumatized, the whole schtick. So the battles were really fast and easy.

A new face always had to be met with caution, the lack of knowledge regarding the person was dangerous and if the pair wasn’t careful, they could end up losing the battle. And their Miraculous.

With the start of summer came tourist season, and tourists could be victims of akumatization. Which seemed to be the case within the first week. 3 villains, all new faces, but the pair had gotten lucky with the similar powers that the heroes had faced before and the three were all defeated in a timely manner.

There was a short week of nothing happening.

And then all hell broke loose.

—————————————————————

Marienette knew the start of the tourist season had begun just based on the filled streets of strange faces, sunglasses, cameras, and the use of foreign languages. This also was noticed based on how busy her parents' shop had become, and how rarely she was managing to escape outside to enjoy some of summer's freedom. The good thing was she was able to brush up on some of her English, since the tourists usually spoke the common American language and the experience was always welcome to help boost her grades in the upcoming year. Even if it was a few months away.

She’d figured out the best way to sneak off during any attacks was to ‘use the bathroom’ or ‘accidently’ make a mess and excuse herself to clean up. It had worked during the first week and she didn’t have to do anything the past week since Hawkmoth seemed to take a break. She finished serving a young pair of Americans, a tall girl with orange hair, and a lanky boy nearly the same height with raven black hair.

She had to admit, some Americans had a certain charm, but the bustle of the kitchen quickly caught her attention as she was back to serving the next person in line.

Just as Chloe waltzed in, basically knocking the american boy over as she strutted to the front of the line, causing people to cast glares in her direction. The boy hissed when he fell, the American girl offering to help him up in English as he shook his head and stood up, dusting himself off as Marienette went to deal with the walking form of pure rich privilege. “Urg, Dupain-Cheng’s dingy little cafe? Of course she works here, it just smells like burnt bread.” She huffed.

Marienette bristled, but put on her customer service smile, noticing the poor Americans victim to Chloe leaving the shop. She was hoping to offer them a replacement after dealing with Chloe but it was a little late now. “Ma’am, unless you are here to pick up an order, you will have to wait in line like everyone else.” She strained.

“Ma’am? I am Chloe Dubois! I don’t need to wait in line like some sort of peasant! Just give me whatever you didn’t make.”

Marienette had to swallow down any returning insults and put down one of their most expensive items, handing it over with a clearly strained smile, “have a nice day.”

Chloe huffed with her baked goods in hand but left as soon as she appeared, allowing Marienette some relief. Very little damage. A little annoyance but nothing worthy of an akuma-.

An explosion was heard from outside, and Marienette groaned internally.

She just had to jinx it.

—————————————————————

Ladybug dove off to the side as the villain shot out a ray of white, plasma-like energy. Adrien, fighting as Chat Noir, and his partner were having a hell of a time with this dude. He spotted the chaos on the news, the villain calling himself ‘Black Hole’ and giving his poor Lady a hard time. When he finally arrived on the scene, he wasn’t able to do much either.

The villain was basically a godly powerhouse, floating in the air, shooting burning rays of heated plasma, or even ice! Ice and plasma! Sometimes he MIXED the two beams to create an even WORSE beam! Whenever either of the heroes got close enough to land a hit, their punches and kicks would go right through him. Then he would DISAPPEAR. REAPPEARING AND LANDING ANOTHER HEAVY BLOW. He would fly around like gravity was non-existent, and these abilities didn’t stop there. Every so often, he would yank out this thermos looking thing and shoot out these wormholes. Or… possibly black holes. Calling them black holes felt wrong though… since they glowed green and swirled before disappearing after a few moments.

The villain's outfit was a change of pace too. It was impossible to figure out his age since he was completely covered in a thick fabric material that reminded him of space suits. Yet looked a lot less bulky than actual space suits, thin yet sturdy metal covered his forearms, and formed a backpack that was attached by a wide metal collar that spread to his collarbone and slightly covered his shoulders, as well as a metal strap that wrapped around right under his chest. A plated, metal belt circled his waist with a clip for the green black hole thermos, and thigh high boots with a similar fabric to his suit covered most of his legs, thick plastic looking platform soles attached at the feet. Black bands wrapped around the ankles of the boots. A helmet covered his entire face, a metal frame covering the bottom half like a muzzle while the top was a tinted glass dome following the shape of his head, the inside of it entirely black except for the eerie glow of a single, left eye. The helmet had a tube on the back of the helmet that connected to his backpack, but neither he or Ladybug could figure out if it was essential or for decoration. His entire colouring was monotone, much bleaker than their previous villains. His suit was black, the boots, forearm cuffs, belt, backpack and collar were all a middle shade of grey, the only flash of colour being the glow of the single toxic green eye amongst the darkness of the helmet.

The dude was disturbing. He didn’t make any sound, in fact he seemed to ABSORB the sound around him. Like they were in space.

Paris was getting destroyed more and more by the second and the two didn’t know what to do. The Lady’s lucky charm turned into a thermos, which she didn’t have a clue how to use in the situation in front of them. Maybe it was a hint? A clue about soup? Or getting the villains thermos?

The problem with the last idea was that neither he or Ladybug could TOUCH this villain. And each of them were getting worse and worse for wear by the second. He could tell Ladybug was getting ready to get some sort of help, but who could make something untouchable… touchable? Chat even tried to use cataclysm on the villain's thermos while Ladybug had distracted him, but he twisted at the last moments and grabbed Chat's hand, draining cataclysm before he tossed him aside like it was nothing.

Another blast of plasma sent the two tumbling away from each other, and then a blast of ice caught Chat off guard. Cold shot up his arm as his muscles convulsed, a scream caught in his throat as the ice trapped his arm in such a tight and sturdy prison. He twisted to try and use his free arm to claw the other out of the ice, a shadow in the corner of his vision causing him to twist and jolt in surprise as the villain stood right in front of him. The glowing green eye was cold as it bore into him, and the villain grew closer and closer, drifting off the ground and absorbing every noise around him, the air around them dropping to freezing temperatures. Chats breath formed in front of him as gasps, panic clear in the quick breaths, fear intensifying as the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat and blood roaring through his veins.

The villain's hand shot out and grabbed his free one- the one with his miraculous.

Chat heard Ladybug cry out as the villain gripped onto the ring, a quick glance showing she too was trapped.

That she was next.

Chat tried to keep his fingers curled, but he was battered and weak, and the villain hadn’t even broken a sweat during their fight. Prying open his fingers was easy, the ring vulnerable. This was it. He used cataclysm too soon and now he was powerless. He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t save anyone. He was a failure. This was the end of Paris.

They lost.

—————————————————————

Fucking. Vlad.

This entire trip had Danny on edge and it was all because of Vlad.

At first, he thought maybe, for once, Vlad wasn’t being a piece of shit when offering the family a fully paid trip to France for two weeks. He was suspicious. He probably just wanted the family out of town to do some shady shit. But a two week trip to France wasn’t the WORST thing a man could do. Especially in comparison to kidnapping and cloning.

But then his parents got sick. A common flu. Right before the trip. And they wanted Jazz and him to experience Paris. Then Vlad offered to be a chaperone.

It was all a play to get Danny alone for two weeks and try and manipulate him.

He did manage to get Tucker and Sam to tag along, something about friends being his family and the two unused tickets his parents left behind. But Vlad knew how to separate the group. How to corner Danny at the worst moments and whisper annoying remarks in his ear as he tried to get away.

He survived a week. He only had one more week to go. Tucker and Sam were off checking out some places for lunch while Jazz and Danny went to pick up sweets for everyone to share after their meal.

Vlad was off doing who knew what so Danny had put him to the back of his mind.

The cafe they found was… well it smelled incredible. There were so many baked goods on display and the air was filled with the warm and sweet smell of the goodies. He let Jazz do most of the talking, she wanted to practice her French and Danny had recently discovered that being dubbed the ghost king meant that now he had a natural grasp on all verbal languages, including the dead ones. This meant his speech in French was almost flawless, and his understanding was like he was listening to someone speak English. He couldn’t read other languages though, just speak them. He was told though by a few locals he had an odd accent. It wasn’t an american one, just… odd.

So Jazz ordered the treats and the pair was headed out to meet Danny’s friends.

Then some blonde girl with way too much make-up basically knocked him to the ground, not even sending him a glance that indicated she knew what she did. It was annoying, but he dealt with bullies on a daily basis back at Amity Park. Well… used to. But he knew better than to waste any thought on some jerk like her. He sadly looked at the ruined cat paw shaped cookies, the icing ruined and the cookies crushed under his weight when he fell.

Standing up with the help of Jazz, they left the shop as Danny insisted on finding somewhere to wash off the icing stuck to his shirt. He liked this shirt too… he hoped it wouldn’t stain too badly. It was better than ectoplasm at least, that stuff needed to be burned out, there was no such thing as washing out ectoplasm.

Jazz asked to help, but Danny brushed her off, telling her he could easily clean himself off by himself.

And then Vlad chose that moment to corner him.

—————————————————————

“Hello Daniel.”

Danny splashed water wildly as he spun around to glare at the older Halfa, hissing out an ‘Ancients!’ in surprise. “What the hell, Vlad?” He spat, “sneaking up on a kid in the bathroom? I should just call the police and tell them about all that stalking you like to do.”

“Aren’t you tired of this childish game?” He hummed.

“Not really, seeing as I’m a child and I love games,” Danny sneered.

“I’m older, more experienced, and stronger. I am also patient, little badger. And it’s easy to wear you down. By the end of this trip, you are going to be begging to be my-.”

“Son? Pet? Little slave that does everything you ask? Sorry, Vladdy, but I ain’t the type to listen to crazy fruit loops. How about you go enjoy the company of your French rich friends like that Agreste dude instead of stalking me and trying to get with my mom and kill my dad. Might do you some good to make more friends than just your cat.”

“Oh Daniel, you throw your petty insults but I know ways to break you even further. You know, a lot of accidents happen in Paris. Terrible things.”

Danny felt his eyes flash as he spun on his heel, “listen to me, if you even consider-!”

“Not to mention your brand new ghostly responsibilities as… the ghost king? Imagine that. A child as the king. You don’t even know everything about ghosts.”

“Neither do you!” Danny spat.

“Oh but I know so much more. And I could easily teach you-.”

“Just shut up!”

“When you mess up, when the ghost zone begins to fall apart, you will wish you took my offer, but I may not be as forgiving when that happens.”

“I said shut up!”

“And we both know the moment the ghost zone falls apart, so will this world. All because a boy became king and didn’t take help he was so graciously offered.”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!”

Something inside him shifted, and Danny suddenly felt his mind cloud, a deep voice echoed his mind.

“A cruel man harassing a young teen that wants nothing to do with him. A shame when someone can’t take a hint.

Black Hole. I am Hawkmoth. I can give you the power to show this old man that he never should consider looking in your direction ever again.

All I ask is for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous. Do this for me, and Vlad Masters will never be an issue for you ever again.”

Danny’s clouded mind and building rage smirked at the offer, his voice echoing as he glanced up at Vlad who was giving him a confused look. “Yes, Hawkmoth.”

Darkness engulfed him and then his memory began to fail him.

—————————————————————

A boomerang slammed into Black Hole’s head, causing it to jerk to the side and a small crack formed on the glass that was hit. The metal boomerang dropped to the ground and Black Hole slowly looked down at it as a robotic voice cried out from it, “ghost detected!” And then a recorded voice spouted out, “take that, spook!”

Black Hole’s head slightly tilted at the noise it made, a hand subconsciously rubbing the crack it left behind. Then he twisted his gaze back to Chat Noir, going back to taking the hero’s miraculous.

Then a shout came from behind Black Hole and Chat caught the eyes of a teenage girl yelling and holding a bat over her head. Black Hole twisted, his body turning that transparent look whenever Chat or Ladybug had tried to hit him before, and Chat knew that it was useless. “No! Stop! Get out of here-!” He screamed at the citizen, but stopped when the bat connected with the villain's head and sent him flying into a wall.

Chat was at a loss for words for once in his life, watching the villain slowly pry himself from the wall from being hit by a baseball bat when he and Lady couldn’t land a single hit. He looked back at the citizen and shrieked as she raised the bat above her head and swung down at him, flinching and squeezing his eyes shut. She hit something, causing it to shatter and then- his hand was free!

He opened his eyes and looked at his hand in awe and then back at the girl, “who the heck are you?”

She huffed, dropping the bat casually on her shoulder, “Sam Manson. Friend of the idiot that didn’t do his research before taking a trip here. I’m surprised this didn’t happen earlier.”

Chat blinked, “you- you know that’s your friend? And knew this would happen?”

Sam shrugged, “the booo-merang is never wrong. And yeah, my friend there is not exactly the most emotionally stable person on the planet. Sorry it took us a while to get here. You guys really do move fast.”

Chat just opened and closed his mouth a few times, then yelled as she suddenly swung the bat again and smacked the villain in the gut as he got close during their exchange, knocking him sideways but not down like the first time. Black Hole turned again, making a snarling sound before he was blasted by some sort of green ray and sent flying sideways, rolling along the pavement before smashing into a car. Another teen jogged over with Ladybug behind him, dropping his hands to his knees as he wheezed, “I have ran… way too much for this to be considered a vacation.”

“M’Lady-, what is going on?” Chat asked.

“This is Tucker, and his friend Sam, and they know how to help,” Ladybug quickly explained, glancing back at Black Hole. “We need to draw his attention and get that thermos off of him, then Sam and Tucker can use this,” she held up the thermos from her lucky charm, “and we can get his akuma.”

“Akuma is in the thermos, knock it off,” Chat summarized. He heard his miraculous beeping, a sign he was close to his limit.

“Let’s end this fast.”

—————————————————————

Ladybug held the booo-merang in one hand as the two teens and Chat drew Black Hole’s attention, the teens equipped with weapons that seemed to get past some of Black Holes abilities.

She narrowed her gaze, waiting for the perfect moment, then threw the weapon, watching it arch in the air then knock the thermos off of the villain's waist. The thermos clattered to the ground and drew his attention, he quickly twisted and dove to try and retrieve it, which was when a bright beam erupted from the polka dot thermos Ladybug had given the teens. The beam caught the villain's legs and he was tugged back, his form pulling towards it like taffy as he twisted and a horrid scream of anger burst from him. He tried to escape it, flailing and reaching for anything to hang on to, but in a matter of seconds he was pulled into the canister and Sam slammed the lid shut. The screaming stopped and Ladybug made her way over to Black Hole’s thermos, stomping on it and crushing it, releasing the Akuma hidden inside. With a flick of her wrist her lucky charm turned back into its original form, dumping Black Hole onto the street, then the butterfly was caught and purified, and another click of her miraculous, she let the little bug flutter away harmlessly. With a shout, ‘Miraculous Ladybug!’, everything around them was engulfed in black and red as the damages were undone around them.

At last, the villain's form was released of Hawkmoth's influence and it left a lanky teen laying on the street. He slowly sat up with a groan and a hand to his head and she then realized it was the same teen as from the shop. So once again, this was Chloe’s fault. She turned her attention to the two teens that helped her, noticing Chat let out a hasty farewell and thanks and disappeared around a corner. “Thank you, both of you. Without your help… well, without your help we may have lost that battle. But how in the world did you do that?”

“What the fuck just happened?” The teen groaned, “I feel like the booo-merang smacked me in the head like… fifty times.”

“That’s because I may have smacked you a few times with the fenton creep stick,” Sam shrugged as she helped her friend up who gave her wide eyes in return.

“You fucking what?”

Tucker took a step forward to answer Ladybug’s question, “let's just say back in our town, we have very specific supervillains that have abilities that make it hard for regular attacks to land. So we have specialized gear. Sam and I did a bit of research before heading here and figured if any of us got Akumatized, we may reflect some of those traits.”

“I… see…” Ladybug hummed, “and where did you say you were all from?” The three cast a few glances between each other, but before any of them could answer, her miraculous beeped angrily as she quickly realized she was out of time. “Thank you again for your help, if we could meet again to exchange some of that tech to make sure this never happens again-,” she quickly tried to set up a meet up before Sam held up a hand.

“This won’t happen again. A lot of what happened here is very unique to Amity, so once we finish our vacation, you won’t see this kind of thing ever again.”

Ladybug only had more questions but the angry beeping only forced her to nod and bid a quick farewell before getting out of sight to let Tiki take a rest. Marienette held out a few macaroons for Tiki as her thoughts swirled in her head. The questions about the odd American trio and how they knew how to deal with a villain as unique as Black Hole.

She may be able to corner them later. They did say they had to ‘finish their vacation.’

And in the meantime, it was time to do some research on this place called ‘Amity’.

—————————————————————

Danny didn’t remember a lot of what happened while he was the villain, Black Hole. It was like a dream, he kinda remembered the feeling, vague details, but nothing specific.

What he wished he remembered was whatever he did to Vlad. He must have done something because his memories cut out right after Vlad harassed him in the bathroom and after the event, the froot loop avoided him during the entire trip. Even refused to make eye contact!

What he would give just for a few seconds of that memory! Or for someone to have recorded it!

For now though he got to reap the rewards, flashing his eyes green when Vlad would glance over and causing the man to flinch. Oh man, he was going to abuse this newfound intimidation ability till the bitter end.

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Words: 3,185 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of suicide, gore, sexuality, fear and anxiety, disturbing imagery, typical TWD stuff A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Someone dies and Daryl finally learns about Y/N's past.

Your name: submit What is this?

“Where ya goin’?” Daryl’s voice behind you as you headed to the gate, your recurve bow slung over your shoulder.

“Hunting,” you said. You’d been reserved since Hilltop and Daryl was worried.

He shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “Huntin’ what?”

You caught his meaning and sighed. “Food. I promise.”

He nodded and paced closer to you. “Good. Look, if ya want to go out and hunt them, I’ll go with ya. Ya shouldn’t do it alone.”

You nodded. “Been doing it alone a long time now,” you countered. “But I won’t today.”

Daryl nodded. That was about as good a response as he could hope for. “Alright.”

“Where are you off to?” you asked, noting the bag slung over his shoulder.

“Denise found a place she thinks might have meds. She asked Rosita and I to go with.”

Your stomach twisted suddenly and you felt unbalanced. You didn’t know why… it sounded like a routine supply trip. But eventually you shoved the feeling down and nodded. “Alright. Be careful…”

“Ya. We will. You too, alright?” Daryl wished he was brave enough in that moment to—to do or say something more. He could sense that whatever had happened to you, whatever you knew about the Saviors, it was eating you. It had been since Hilltop, and likely even before, probably since the run-in with those men when he was laid up with his ankle. That time when you hadn’t been able to sleep and he had stayed at your house… And he wished he knew how to lift that burden, how to make it stop or at least lighter, but until you were ready to talk about it there wasn’t much he could do.

You came back that evening with a deer. The gates rolled open to admit you and you headed toward home. That’s when you saw the crowd gathered on the porch of Rick’s house, but something was wrong. No one was talking and their expressions were grave.

You felt your stomach lurch. You slung the deer down onto your porch and started walking over. Daryl broke off and met you halfway. You gulped at the tightness in your throat. He looked pale. “What’s going on?”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes and he was chewing his bottom lip anxiously, drumming his fingers against his leg. “Denise,” he croaked, the gravel in his voice even thicker than usual.

You looked up, and the fact that everyone was gathered at Rick’s house and not outside the infirmary made what had happened clear. You felt like you’d been punched in the stomach. Your chest heaved with terrified breaths. “No… H—How?” you whispered.

“That guy with the girls I helped in that burnt-out forest, the ones who ended up fuckin’ me over, takin’ my bike and my bow… He’s one of them now.”

Your eyes narrowed. “The Saviors?” you asked in an undertone, your heart starting to race.

He nodded, finally lifting his blue eyes to yours. “Shot her with my crossbow right in front of us. Right—right in front of me.”

Your eyes glistened with emotion you were trying to hold back. “Oh God. No. No, no, no…” You were reeling. Your wide eyes had an unseeing quality.

Daryl gulped, speaking what was consuming him, a rasp in his throat as he fought emotion. “It’s my fault. I should have killed him. I should’ve made Denise stay back. I should’ve—”

“Stop,” you said forcefully, gently resting your hand on his arm. You stepped forward to look up into his face, which was now contorted with some emotion. “It’s not. Don’t do that.”

“It is. She wasn’t ready and I—I should have known they were there. We shoulda been more careful, not out in the open. I—It’s my fault,” he rasped.

You shook you head, holding his blue eyes. “No. It’s not. Even if you had killed him, we don’t know that anything would turn out differently. We don’t get to know. So, you have to stop.”

“I’m goin’ back tomorrow. I’m gonna track ‘em.” His grief and regret were turning into rage quickly.

“Daryl—”

“I’m goin’. He’s a dead man,” he growled.

Your eyes were wide and fearful. “Please, listen to me. Just wait. We can do this, but we have to be smart about it.”

“What’s smart is trackin’ ‘em before their trail disappears,” he growled. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch—"

You shut your eyes, a flash of emotion on your face and Daryl softened a little at the sight. “Just—come over later. We need to talk,” you whispered. You shot him one last look, the worry line you always got by your left eyebrow quite pronounced. You turned and went back to your house to deal with the deer you had shot. Daryl watched you drag it around to the back of your house and he thought that for even the weight of the deer, your steps looked heavy.

It was already late when you heard the front door open from your seat on the couch. “Y/N?” Daryl’s deep voice.

“In here,” you called back. His boots on the wood floor came closer and he appeared in the doorway.

“Ya alright?” he asked. You shook your head.

“No. You?”

He shook his head. “Nah.” Daryl sat down on the other end of the sofa, placing his own crossbow, recovered after the scramble with the Saviors that day, on the coffee table. He could tell you had been crying earlier. Your eyes were a little red. “What is it?”

Your heart was racing and you felt like you couldn’t draw full breaths. It felt like there was a weight sitting on your chest that was keeping your lungs from filling. You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m—I’m gonna tell you what happened to me. How I know about the Saviors.” You stared down at your hands and he heard you pull in a raspy breath. “I’ve never told anyone this…”

A shadow darkened Daryl’s face. “Alright.”

You sighed and licked your lips nervously. “I had a brother. He was two years younger than me. We were with a small group of people, holed up in some house, scraping in town for supplies. Just a group of survivors who fell together, like yours did. The Saviors showed up. They said they were going to ‘save us.’ Said we had to come with them and if we did they’d keep us safe and fed in exchange for labor. Of course, none of us trusted them. Who can you trust these days? We all knew they just wanted what we had, and maybe even just us, like commodities. We tried to fight. Almost all of us were killed and they got control of those of us who were left.” You passed a somewhat shaky hand over your eyes briefly. “Negan showed up. He executed one of our people in front of us. Bashed his head in with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire and made us watch. Terrorized the rest of us. Spouted off a bunch of bullshit about how he hadn’t wanted to do it, but we had forced his hand. My brother and I survived, along with a couple of the others. They took us back to their headquarters.” You finally glanced over at Daryl and your striking eyes, looking wide and anxious, met his blue ones. “They call it The Sanctuary.”

Daryl thought of Denise, dying right in front of him. “I’m sorry,” Daryl said.

You shook your head. “I’m not even close to done.”

Daryl’s stomach hardened into a tight pit and he waited for you to go on.

“I knew right away that something was different… with me, I mean. They separated me from the group, from my brother. Shoved me in a tiny, completely dark, barren cell.” Daryl watched your brow furrow. “Just me. Alone. Sometimes I was chained up, handcuffed, sometimes I wasn’t. Every second of every day I just sat in the dark and wondered what horrible thing was going to happen to me the next minute. I didn’t understand why I’d been singled out at first, except maybe that I’d fought the longest. I didn’t know if my brother was alive or dead…” Your eyes grew faraway, detached, and Daryl felt like someone had twisted a knife in his stomach. You went on. “The isolation and hunger was bad enough but they had more in their playbook. They purposely kept me awake for days at a time—lights, loud music. Some real Guantanamo Bay shit. I lost track of time. I thought I was going crazy after a while. It was obvious they were trying to break me. And then one day, he came.”

“Negan?” Daryl asked. You nodded.

“He told me I’d paid enough for trying to fight. That he understood why I had and that I had a few choices in front of me. I could eventually die in that cell, I could work, or…” you trailed off and shut your eyes for a moment. “He told me he thought I was…different. That I was tough, brave because of how I was during the fight and after. He said he’d—he’d taken a special liking to me and said I could marry him, be one of his wives, and live the way we did before the world fell apart. All I had to do was take care of him and his wants and needs and he’d take care of me.”

Daryl was staring at you with a scowl on his face, his stomach twisting at your words. His eyes were narrowed and he was so still he looked frozen. Anger was boiling in his chest. You gulped, hoping to clear your throat but weren’t successful.

“I asked him if my brother was alive and he said yes. I told him I’d work. I just wanted to be with my brother. So, I became one of the workers in The Sanctuary. You work there to earn points, which you use to ‘pay’ for food and whatever else you need, but it’s never enough. It’s slave labor where every once and a while they throw you a peanut. Conditions are terrible. And after a while, my brother and I were both almost wishing we were dead. But at least we were still together.” You settled back more deeply into the couch and sighed. “Negan rules with an iron fist. If someone tries to escape, someone steals, screws up at all…” Your face contorted as you thought about what you’d watched him do. “I’ve watched him do the most—inhuman, horrendous things... unfathomable. I watched him burn people with a hot iron, brand people, beat people to death for not following his orders perfectly… And his men? They’ll do the same things in his name, some of them worse. The whole place is guarded, patrolled, locked down like a fortress. But more than anything it’s the fear that keeps people there… And I was trapped in it because all I wanted to do was keep my brother alive and for us to stay together.”

You stopped for a moment and Daryl watched as you tried to steel yourself to go on.

“It was like that for a while. We were practically starving, always just waiting for the next thing, the next trauma. And then I got sick… Very sick.” Your eyes flitted up to meet his. “A blood infection. I was dying. And they’ve got a doctor, medicine, but if you use them you owe more than you could ever pay—and that means they own you even more than they already did. It’s just leverage to them. My brother—” your voice broke. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment and Daryl could hear you pull in a few slow but ragged breaths. “He tried to steal some antibiotics. To save me. And he got caught.”

You were silent for a long moment, trying to stop yourself from crying. Daryl just waited, feeling sick to his stomach, feeling enraged, wanting to tell you it was going to be okay, but knowing he couldn’t... Nothing he could say was going to fix whatever you were about to tell him. He knew that.

“I ended up in the infirmary anyway. I don’t even know how. I had been so delirious with fever and I can’t remember a lot from around then… But when I was better, eventually, Negan came to see me again. He told me they were going to make an example of my brother. He broke the rules and Negan couldn’t have people thinking you could get away with that. I knew what that meant. Negan would kill him horrifically. In front of me and everyone else.” Despite what you were saying, your voice was somewhat detached. It was like you were on autopilot as you explained, like you had told the story in your head a million times and were just replaying through it. Daryl thought you probably were.

“But he gave me another—another choice,” you said. Your tone conveyed that it was presented as a choice, but there was no refusing. “His offer still stood. If I ‘married’ him and became one of his wives, he’d spare my brother’s life and erase all of our debts.” Just saying the words made you feel sick and Daryl watched as you reached a hand out to clutch onto the arm of the couch as if you were spinning and needed grounding. “What could I do?” you asked, turning to look at Daryl again, your eyes frantic, devastated, shining with tears that you were barely containing. “I just thought—‘I need to keep him alive.’ That’s—that’s all I could think and I would deal with the rest of it later.” You opened your mouth to continue speaking but the words wouldn’t come out and your gaze at Daryl was desperate until you couldn’t look at him any longer.

“Hey,” he said. “Ya had to. S’alright. Ya didn’t have a choice.” He moved closer to you and was brave enough to gently lift your chin so you would look at him again, and the glistening in your eyes hit him like a punch. “Ya had to,” he said gently.

You nodded, shrugging vaguely. “I agreed. And Negan didn’t kill my brother but he cut off his hand in front of me and everyone else.” Your jaw clenched and you shut your eyes against the flashbacks.

Daryl stared at you in horror as you took a breath, trying to hold yourself together enough to continue. His face was growing darker and darker as you told the story.

“But we went on. He worked for points and I—” You couldn’t even speak of it. “For a while, that’s how it was.” You were suddenly silent and Daryl felt yet another twist in his stomach, apprehension about what was coming. You continued, your voice disconnected again. “And then one day Negan came in and told me that my brother—” you gritted your teeth against another wave of emotion. “My brother killed himself.”

You hurried on, afraid you wouldn’t be able to get anything else out if you didn’t rush through it.

“And the thing is—” your voice broke, “even that he didn’t do for himself. He didn’t do it because he was miserable there or because he couldn’t go on.” Your bottom lip quivered. “He did it because he knew that while he was there, alive, I wouldn’t leave. If he was alive, I wouldn’t try to escape. He killed himself to save me, to give me the option to get out.”

Daryl felt a sinking emptiness in the middle of his chest. For a moment he just sat still and watched as you struggled not to go entirely to pieces, but he couldn’t allow you to reel the way you were any longer. “C’mere,” he said gently. He enfolded you in his arms and you sank in against him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He could feel your shuddering breaths and he held you tighter to him, his heart racing, feeling sick waves of horror and anger. He rested his chin on the top of your head. “Ya got out. You’re out. S’alright.” He smoothed a hand over your hair and down your back until you stilled somewhat. You pulled back only slightly to look up at him, your faces mere inches apart.

“Do you understand?” you whispered. “You can’t just go barreling after them, Daryl. You can’t. I—I can’t lose you.”

Daryl gulped, his eyes flickering between yours… But inside he was thinking that everything you just told him was exactly why he had to go...

“I hear ya,” he said finally. He pressed you tightly against him again, shutting his eyes and relishing the feeling of you beneath his hands, even while his mind raced. He held you for a long time, until you seemed to have calmed again. Finally, he pulled back and looked into your face. “It’s—it’s gonna be alright.”

You soaked in the reassurance of him, calmed by his deep voice, his hands gentle on your arms.

“It’s—It’s late… Ya gonna be alright if I go? M’sorry. I don’t wanna leave ya but I wanna check on everybody…” he murmured.

You nodded. “You should. It’s okay. They—they probably need you. I’ll be fine,” you said, knowing it was probably a lie. You were sure you’d have nightmares that night if you managed to sleep at all. You slipped from him the rest of the way and as you separated, he felt like you took some part of him with you.

“G’night,” he murmured, climbing to his feet and collecting his crossbow from your coffee table. As he picked it up, he couldn’t help but think about how the bolt that had killed Denise had left his bow. He should have killed that asshole when he had the chance. “Y/N. Ya should tell Rick,” he said, nodding. “Ya should. If ya can. It’d help him understand, ya know?”

You considered him for a moment. “Okay. I will,” you replied. You watched him across the kitchen as he made his way to the front door, the wings on the back of his vest catching the light differently than the leather, almost looking like they were glowing. With his hand on the handle of the front door, he glanced back at you and gave you a thoughtful look. You managed a somewhat sad smile at him, anxiety still pulling one of your brows inward, and then he disappeared outside.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #sacrifice #daryl dixon series

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menodorasmoon · 3 years ago

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Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

So I have to write an essay on this book for class and I want to rip my hair out so I'm going to write my thoughts on the book before I go back to that. I prefer reviews to analysis. Obligatory spoiler warning. Also, I have seen nothing about the show, so this has nothing to do with that.

The book starts pretty interesting, following a man named Jeevan as he watches a production of King Lear with his girlfriend on the night that would mark the end of the world as they knew it. Jeevan is easy to connect with as a protagonist, he's struggled to decide what he wants to do with his life, he has a hero complex, he's paranoid, and he's just a guy. He's fascinating and honestly I don't even really remember most of the actual events other than when Jeevan was involved. Because as soon as I had grown attached to and understood Jeevan, he was no longer the main character. And that's how we're introduced to the main "gimmick" of the novel. It changes perspective and time period. A lot. The next section of the novel follows a young girl who had also performed in the production of King Lear where Jeevan had jumped on stage to attempt to save the lead actor, Arthur Leander, from what appears to be a heart attack. Arthur is also apparently important despite dying within the first few pages. Kirsten, the girl, remembers very little from before the pandemic began the night of Arthur's final performance. She was only 8 when the world ended after all. She is now performing with the Travelling Symphony, a group of survivors dedicated to continuing to spread Shakespeare's works in the new world. Kirsten is also an interesting protagonist, as she remembers so little of life before that it really feels like someone only reminiscing over a dream. She focuses on a pair of comics given to her during the rehearsal of King Lear by Arthur, who had received them from his first wife, the author of the comics.

At this point, I was pretty interested in Kirsten too. She seemed interesting, someone who grew up in an entirely different world from me. Then I realized she was 8 when the pandemic started and 10 at most when she was left alone by her brother's death. I'd really like to know how she survived twenty years. Nevertheless, we are introduced to... more characters, none of whom I remember. Other than the prophet because he happened to have potential for a fascinating story. He then remains mostly unmentioned until the end of the novel. So, okay, after only two sections, we have a cast of well over a dozen people and no way of knowing who will and won't be important in the future. That's fine, I'll just make a character list to reference as I continue.

But wait, there's more! Next, we see more about Arthur's life and the life of his first wife Miranda. Miranda was interesting and I do care about her story because she is, once again, relatable. A woman who is sick of how she has been treated using art as an outlet. Except she's also only really important in her connection to Arthur. It's around this time that we learn that Jeevan used to be a journalist and had also met Arthur. So the story centers around Arthur despite him not even being present for most of the story. I don't mind that in itself, but the way that every even mildly important person in his life somehow connects to one another is fucking weird.

At this point I'd given up on actually understanding the story and just want to create a damn web of their connections. At the center of everything is Arthur. Jeevan knew Arthur through his previous careers in the industry. Kirsten knows Arthur through the performance of King Lear and meets Jeevan at that same performance. Miranda is Arthur's first wife, met Jeevan when he was a paparazzo, and indirectly impacts Kirsten through her comics. Then there's Arthur's best friend, Clark, who will eventually run an important settlement in the world after the pandemic where he runs into Kirsten. There's also Arthur's second wife and their son, Elizabeth and Tyler. They also briefly live in the settlement run by Clark and Tyler will later become the prophet. What are the fucking odds of Arthur's second wife who happened to be Christian producing a child who would grow up in an airport believing in nothing other than the Bible before running off to take over a random town where he would meet Kirsten, a girl around his age that also knew his father and then chases her group along the road, references the comics she obsessed with, and dies practically by her hand. I think Arthur had a third wife too who he was in the process of divorcing when he died so he could marry another woman?

There are so many damn characters and the likeable ones are hardly seen! And now I've gotta write an essay on how the whole damn thing relates to the importance of art in survival. So I'm annoyed.

TLDR; There are too many characters to keep track of, I do not know the story, and I would rather pull teeth than write this essay, but pulling teeth can't get me to graduation.

#station eleven #station 11 #book review #book #review #station eleven review #I'd seriously like to know what the hell was going on in the author's mind while writing this #too many stories were going on in too few words #anyway back to the essay #rip me

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years ago

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Chapter 11 - Student Council President Sakura / Graduation Chapter

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Youtube playlist for your reading accompaniment

They held a run-through of the graduation ceremony on the last day of class and technically the last day of the trio’s high school life. Unlike their first general assembly, Uchiha Sasuke was to deliver the graduation speech but not without great sulking from Haruno Sakura who landed a close second despite ranking first in their final exams.

And obviously, not without Sasuke trying to give up his speech privileges by campaigning instead for Sakura.

In the end, all three of them were granted speech slots – one for Sasuke as valedictorian, Sakura as student representative, and Naruto as the school’s first national MVP. It was this debacle that led the three of them to brainstorm in an empty AVR after the dry run.

“Done!” Sakura yelled like the diligent student she was. “Let me look at yours!”

Sasuke presented her a blank paper while saying, “It’s all prepared in my head”, and Naruto showed her his baseball doodles.

“Oh God, you’re all so hopeless.”

Then the electricity suddenly got cut off in the AVR. Sakura expected the boys to screech in surprise and cling to each other, but she only heard silence in the dark. She jumped in her seat when the doors opened with a loud bang, a confetti splash, and the lights coming back to life.

Sasuke and Naruto were still in front of her, holding two bouquets of irises and yellow roses. Behind them were the old and new student council members with other students holding a large banner saying Thank you, Student Council President Sakura!

She started to leave her seat to come to them, but they gestured for her to stay on her seat. In front of the room, the large monitor beeped and showed a compilation of videos.

Sukehiro Aoi, an alumni and currently an intern in an animation studio. “Hello, Ms. Pres. You once asked the body to submit a publication material for an event of the student council, and I sent mine through a dummy email with no expectations of winning. I wasn’t comfortable with the public seeing my art. I was afraid of the unsolicited remarks so sending it anonymously gave me some relief. You chose it however, and you knew how big a credit was to an artist. I was really scared when you were able to hunt me down just by my watermark, but my name in the info blast caught the attention of a school board member and referred me to this animation studio. It was the littlest thing, but you handed me my dream.”

Watanabe Kota was a year below them. He has a small frame, round thick glasses, and battled with face acne. “Ms. Pres! People never had much confidence in my physical appearance, so I don’t know what you saw in me when you asked me to take over the school radio. But here we are – we’re airing daily and we even produce documentaries and radio programs. Thank you for seeing what I didn’t.”

Ito Amanaya, a typical jock in the football team, muscular and came across as intimidating, but he had the gentlest cadence. “I was bullied by the same group that bullied your dynamic duo. When you ran them off, you also saved my life. Thank you, Haruno.”

Kimura Shinze, a classmate in third year, beautiful, popular, and the captain of the cheering squad. “Hope you’re having a great day, Ms. Pres. Remember that time when the class was guessing who were our crushes and I blurted out that it was a girl, you told me thank you for telling us. That was…a big deal to me. Thank you for that gesture.”

Himurata Aoi, president of the koto club. “Sakura, I know you had many people come up and confessed to you so when I did try, I was glad that you didn’t give me a bullshit reason like you’re not into girls. You turned me down because you have someone you already love. I am thankful for your honesty.”

The biology teacher, Takahashi Kande. “Student council, thank you for your mental health program. As a single father to twins, I don’t have the luxury of time to sit in a couch and sort out my issues. To be able to do that in my workplace during breaks is a heaven-sent gift. You saved me and my family. Thank you.”

Many more messages came on, from a classmate she lent spare change to, from a staff she helped clean, from countless students who she wasn’t aware she gave kindness to.

“Why….” She asked breathlessly.

“You’ve been beating yourself lately. We thought you needed some reminding,” Sasuke muttered, under his breath, the bouquet still in his hands. “You left some pretty big footprints, Ms. Pres.

“You might not have noticed,” Naruto jested. “But this is always innate and natural to you, isn’t it?”

“Why did you bother so much?” She was reduced to tears.

“It was Naruto’s idea.”

“Huh? You did all the compiling though!”

“Shut up, it was me,” yelled the current president.

“Thank you, everyone.”

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

It was a weekend, but Sasuke requested Sakura and Naruto to meet him at the school gates. He only gave the time and place, and he knew well enough that they would be there – no questions asked.

They stood there, minutes earlier than planned, a first but nothing more unusual than homebody Sasuke asking them to go out on a weekend. Sakura wore an oversized rust shirt over a pair of muted cotton blue trousers tied with a brown leather belt and tan fisherman sandals, her long hair kept in one single braid at the back. Naruto probably expected a fancy lunch with his outfit – black silky long sleeves over gray pants and black loafers.

Sasuke, high on impulsive decisions, wore bright colors, a complete departure from his usual neutrals; mustard vest over a deep violet polo, baggy pants, off white converse, and a white fanny pack. “Well, we’re mostly dressed for comfort, except for that idiot beside you.”

“What do you mean dressed for comfort? I borrowed these loafers from my vice-captain and my feet aren’t used to them,” Naruto whined. “Besides, aren’t you taking us out to a five-star meal, Mr. Valedictorian?”

“Wow, what a way to show off.” Sakura pursed her lips in annoyance. “Don’t worry Naruto, I got your next café order.”

“Ah no. It was just something we heard from the grape vine.” Naruto scratched his head and carefully glanced at Sasuke. “Grumpy got his trust fund today.”

In bated breaths, they waited for him to respond with a scowl or a retort, but he just nodded. “Come on, we’ll miss the train.”

They traveled for three stations and disembarked on the fourth, Sasuke sandwiched in between the two, his shoulders pillows again to their heads and yet such burdens were light as cotton. The surfacing emotions since last week were taking hold of him, but he needed to pull through somehow because breaking down while commuting was one thing he did not really see doing.

“Word just got in. The house was turned over this morning,” Itachi told him over the phone.

“Impeccable timing when I’m also moving abroad next week.” Sasuke pulled out his Bleachers vinyl and anticipated another lonesome lull for the night.

“Do you miss the cream puffs?”

“Nothing comes close.”

“Hmm. I’ll pay for the rental fee of your car.”

In Itachi’s defense, while he was an afficionado of escapism, he also knew how to read between the lines. “Watch me get a Mercedes-Benz.”

“I have a good driving playlist.” This only meant math rock, and Sasuke wanted something to scream his lungs too.

“Don’t need one.”

“Treat your friends to dinner, okay? Gotta go.”

“We’re walking?!” Naruto almost limped out of the train. Sasuke took one look at his heels and saw that they were bruised red. He took off his converse and socks and gave them to him.

Sakura whipped out a small first-aid kit and covered the rash on Naruto’s heels. “Hey don’t look at me like that. Brought it just in case we’re going on a day survival tour. A camping would be nice too.”

“Did you scrub your feet, idiot?”

“You think so low of me grumpy. Of course – last week!”

With Naruto now comfortable, the three resumed walking on the unfamiliar residential area. Sasuke gestured for them to enter a bamboo forest on the far side of the main road. Hidden in the shadows of the clumped stalks were a small opening, the growth hampered and ground rid of grasses and weeds; many people have also chosen this shortcut, walked through the forest, did a little nature bathing, and emerged behind the bakery, still there, still standing, still operating.

Sasuke tapped on the large glass window cum counter on the front and bought three sets of cream puffs.

“Oh, it’s you,” the old baker greeted. “You brought your friends over? You always buy one set.”

Sasuke offered her a smile, briefly glancing to his periphery where Sakura was fussing with Naruto’s feet, and nodded as he accepted the paper bag. “It’s on the house, kid.”

“You brought us to stalk someone’s house?” Sakura dug in one paper bag, bit the puff in one bite, and with full mouth, she sighed. “This is heaven.”

“It’s our old family house, before the accident that is.” Sasuke also took out one puff and munched on it, ruminating on the sight before him, a two-story house with an imposing façade, his mom’s climbing hydrangea gone and cut by the new owners, beds of roses and daisies already withered, but the wisteria tree on the vacant lot beside continued to grow and shade what he supposed were the children’s rooms. It was in his third bite that he saw the tomato fruits he planted, alive and full with harvest. “Do you think my parents know?”

Naruto slid an arm across his shoulder and grinned sheepishly. “Then they would be happy ghosts or maybe they would voluntarily move away to give the new owners the opportunity to make it a happy a home like yours.

“What part are you gonna miss?” Sakura asked, halfway through her set of puffs.

“The sight of the wisteria before I sleep and after I wake up, and the sunlight in my parents’ room. My dad liked to make these suncatchers for my mom. The play of light was a good morning greeting, she said.”

“What’s your funniest memory?” Naruto sat on the grass, uncaring for the stains that would taint his good pair of pants.

“It was probably Christmas when I was seven, and Itachi had this big idea to bake a cake, but he swapped the sugar for the salt and we were wondering why it wouldn’t make a custard. Our parents still ate it, saying it was a very salty version of dark chocolate cake.”

“It was a good home,” Sakura patted the space between her and Naruto and Sasuke sat down cross-legged too, dipping his hand on the paper bag with the last cream puff.

“It was a good home,” Sasuke agreed as he bit into the last vestige of his family memory. He was suckling the powdered sugar off his fingers when he realized he was already crying, and the two were downright sobbing on his either side.

Such an embarrassing sight to see; he wondered what would the new owners feel if they looked out their windows this instant and saw three teenagers breaking down on the road across. It was honestly stupid and laughable to a point, considering how funny it was for grief to become lighter when someone else cried with him.

Naruto was sniffling so much that he had to offer his handkerchief to him. “I forgot to tell you guys. Hinata confessed to me during the cultural festival.”

“Oh my god. What did you say?” Sakura took a tissue out of her bag and dabbed her eyes. She flashed an apologetic look to Sasuke who already offered his hanky to Naruto’s fluids.

“Ah, what else? I had to reject her.” Naruto sneezed on Sasuke’s handkerchief again. “I told her I was in love with someone else.” He slyly glanced at his raven-haired friend and pursed his lips which Sakura quickly caught.

“Who is it?”

“Sasuke also likes someone.”

“Shut your mouth, blondie. Point is already moot. Besides, we’ve already been rejected.”

“Who are these people and why don’t I know them?” Sakura genuinely looked offended. “I could have vetted them!”

“Exactly why it was fortunate you didn’t meet them,” Sasuke said as an excuse though he pegged Sakura for not being that naïve. She, thankfully, let it go and gathered their trash. She dropped the bomb as she was brushing the grass blades from her trousers. “My parents are divorcing. Such a travesty not to have them show up on graduation day, and I thought I did a great job.”

The two, ever so sure, held onto her hands in case she was trembling again.

“Let’s get that five-star dinner,” Sasuke suggested, “and we need to rent a Mercedes-Benz.”

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

Graduation Day

“Let’s welcome to the stage, class valedictorian, Uchiha Sasuke.” Kakashi was the officiating faculty today so she expected difficulty going through the event, but for some reason, he slipped into her mental back burner, no longer taking up room in her active consciousness. That was a good step, she smiled to herself. Her smile became wider as Sasuke got up the stage.

His fans club’s cheers were heard outside the auditorium, and the graduating class chuckled at the quick interruption. He cleared his throat and started his piece.

“Please get it on record that I was coerced to do this speech. Then again, I also had a hand on the turn of events that led me here today, in front of you. And it’s a little too on the nose, but I came to high school with a clear set of goals – have high grades and lead an uninteresting life. I accomplished the first one rather easily, and it’s a good metric for the future that’s upon us right now. Good grades land us good colleges. Good colleges land us good jobs. Good jobs land us good life.

But it’s not the sole benchmark as I have learned lately. You see, my second goal really missed the mark. Good life can also mean good friends, fun experiences, a caring environment, a complete family. If you ticked off each one, then that’s very notable. You have the four-leaf clover, and it’s a rare blessing. I only ticked off three, but that goes without any regret. If you only have one silver lining in your high school memory, then that makes us all the more human. And if there’s none, there is still is still a whole stretch of possibilities we can discover to find one. Thank you for your kind attention.”

Sakura was pretty sure she heard several sniffles across the student body. “The bastard delivered a good speech,” she muttered to herself.

“We would like to welcome our first national MVP, Uzumaki Naruto.”

Outside, the school band played the cheering anthem for his last national games. The cheerleaders also did a routine in tribute to him. That made him well up when he got to the podium.

“Wait oh my god, I’m tearing up so much.”

Sasuke grunted loudly and went back the stage to hand him a handkerchief which Naruto quickly used to wipe his snot.

“Thanks Sasuke. How can Kakashi-sensei let me follow after that rousing speech, and before Sakura too. It’s kinda evil.”

Laughter broke out.

“Well, this one’s a bare minimum. I didn’t have any goals or expectations, unlike genius grumpy over there. I just wanted to live my life like an ordinary boy. Someone said that how you spend your day is how you live your life so I did just that – ate ramen, slept in class because I am a growing kid, and played each arcade game until I won them. I also believe in serendipitous – thanks Sakura for this word, for the spelling and meaning – serendipitous coincidences. I just pitched and batted for former captain Haru one afternoon and now we landed in the national finals. I had loneliness for a friend, but now I’ve got all of you. And you know what else, the magic of working together. We wouldn’t have stepped foot in the nationals if it weren’t for your collective help. When we work towards a common goal, that also gives us common happiness, right? It’s infectious, a bouncing energy that gets thrown around and still makes it one piece. So wherever you will be after this, believe it!”

When Kakashi called her name next, she thought she was deaf, the noise around her collapsed in muted decibels. It took a minute before her fellow classmates shook her and motioned for her to quickly come up the stairs. Her silver-haired teacher looked so concerned in the shadows, but for what it was worth, she was civil and calm enough (at least in the matters concerning him) to nod at him in quiet exchange of assurance.

It was because she saw both of her parents at the side with a bouquet of roses. She struggled with the paper she brought with her although she had it memorized in her head; she even went through it flawlessly for three times last night. Tears blurred the words and the mere shock of the sight of their togetherness disabled her mental function to string coherent thoughts. She also started hyperventilating, her breaths coming faster than what her lungs could pump.

Then she felt Kakashi’s hand on her shoulder, a steady presence, and it reeled her back to reality. He tapped the mic and the feedback echoed. “Ah, Ms. Haruno had some technical issues. Again, let’s welcome former student council president, Sakura.”

Sasuke and Naruto in the front were almost standing, but she flashed them a smile as if to say she was okay now. “Hello, good day to our honorable guests and graduates. I think it’s safe to say that Sasuke and Naruto provided really good words of advice. So I have nothing more to offer, but to share my gratitude. Everyone was saying the student council did a good job in its programs, but it was actually the lot of you who made this possible – from your activity suggestions to participation and feedback. After all, you were the makers of your memories.

Earlier last week, my councilmates and friends reminded me how small actions go a long way – a smile, a wave across the hallway, a short exchange of good morning and see you soon, and I thought, aren’t we all just an accumulation of these small, little things? As such, it was what you think your insignificant moments were that pushed us to deliver you the best. It was the passing comment, the top-of-your-head tips, the interlude stories we hear during lunch breaks that allowed us to give you grand gestures and memories we hoped were worth keeping. And if we could start to use that perspective as well in our lives then maybe the uncertainties of a future wouldn’t be so heavy on us. We will face tomorrow with a lightness in being.

In behalf of the student council, thank you for allowing us to serve you.”

She bowed at a level where her torso was almost aligned at her hips, and she was confused with the lack of reaction. Sakura sighed, mulling over the deficiencies in her speech, but she straightened her back to a sight of a standing ovation and a thundering applause.

Then, she let her tears fall.

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

“Why would you let Kakashi-sensei take the pic?” Sakura hissed at them.

“Just this one time, Sakura!” Naruto grinned.

“Sakura, you’re out of the frame,” Kakashi remarked. “Okay good. Say cheese.”

In spite of her recent heartbreak with him, she permitted herself to bask in fleeting cordiality. “Cheese.”

“Grumpyyyyyy.”

“Idiot blondie.”

Kakashi took three more shots and handed the camera to the trio. He almost turned away when Sakura caught his sleeve.

“Just one more,” she said. “With you.”

Sakura shifted to the front, almost kneeling with the camera angled for a selfie, her two friends beside her looking equally annoyed as the other, and Kakashi behind them, his hands on either head, smiling with his deceptively charming beauty mark.

It was the last picture of their high school life.

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

The three were rushing through the airport crowd fifteen minutes before the immigration closes gates.

“Here!” Sakura slid a folder on the large pocket on Sasuke’s bag. “It includes your passport, your flight details, your valid IDs, your itinerary, and letters from us! Don’t forget our Friday video calls!”

“I can’t see. These tears are bullies,” Naruto said through tears. He was continuously wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“And If I don’t get on my flight because you made us eat ramen for one last time and the orders took too long, I’m gonna have you cursed by a witch and a shaman!” Sasuke growled. The guards were starting to close the gates when a sobbing Naruto sprinted and basically tackled the guards on the floor.

“Sasuke come on, hurry up!”

“Drink your vitamins! And if you miss cream puffs, I’ll teach you how to make them.” Sakura was trying hard to keep pace with Sasuke’s brisk walking, but she ended up breathless anyway.

The three of them finally reached the immigration entrance, and Naruto was profusely apologizing to the guards for the interruption. Sasuke showed his documents, wheezing as they looked at it. They gave him a thumbs up and opened the gates.

The two were already slumped at the floor, waving without words, and exhausted from the clock race. Sasuke was almost through when he remembered something he forgot. He muttered a quick sorry, ran through the opening, and hugged his two friends.

“I’ll miss you.”

#SCPS #student council president sakura #haruno sakura #uchiha sasuke #uzumaki naruto #hatake kakashi #team 7 #sasusaku #kakasaku #narusaku #fic!pseudolily #fic!pinkhairedlily

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duhragonball · 3 years ago

Video

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I guess this new DBS movie trailer came out recently, so let’s talk about it.

Gohan has a much bigger presence in this one than he did in the previous teasers and promotional images. Also, I’ve started to notice that all of the footage of Goku and Vegeta shows them on Beerus’ planet, while Gohan and Piccolo appear to be the only ones fighting against Gamma 1 and 2.

Of course, that could just be a coincidence, or they don’t want to spoil some big moment with Goku and Vegeta on Earth. But it sure looks like the same plot structure as Resurrection F, where Goku and Vegeta are away, so it’s up to the supporting cast to hold the line.

I always thought they could do a story like that one, except Goku and Vegeta just don’t show up to save the day, and Gohan (or someone else) has to win on his own. This sure does feel like that general idea, but maybe I’m just jumping to conclusions.

Other than that, I guess the only major news from the trailer is that it confirms that this is a Red Ribbon revenge plot. Gamma 1 and Gamma 2 are apparently a new pair of androids they’re using.

I’m mostly intrigued to learn more about this Red Ribbon faction. This all seems like a continuation of Dr. Gero’s vendetta, but Gero was always depicted as working alone. I always assumed he was the only one left who still cared. So are these new characters connected with him, or are they pursuing an independent revenge plot?

It’s probably simpler if they had nothing to do with Gero. The public never even knew what Gero was up to, or that he was the mastermind behind Cell. This new RR group might not have any idea that Gero survived the massacre of Red Ribbon HQ all those years ago. The only real connection seems to be that they’re using artificial humans to fight for them, but they’ve had that technology for a long time. It’s not a stretch to assume that Gero had colleagues in the Red Ribbon Army.

It also makes sense that they’re not just bringing back Cell. First and foremost, Cell didn’t work. This isn’t like Frieza, where his henchmen needed a leader and no one else would do. Cell was Plan C or D in a long list of revenge schemes, and he still lost. There’s no one in-universe who would say “Yeah, we need that guy back!”

Besides, even if Dr. Gero were still alive, he wouldn’t be able to build a new Cell, because his computer did most of the work on that project, and it still took decades to complete him. I guess if someone had the records from that computer, they could find ways to improve the process, but it was destroyed before it could finish the job. It just makes more sense for the new Red Ribbon guys to chart their own course. Presumably, Gamma 1 and 2 are superior to Cell, so there’s no reason to reinvent the wheel.

I’m the biggest Cell fan I know, but I’ve always been nervous that Toei and/or Toriyama would try to bring him back for a quick cash grab. Because that’s basically what they did with Frieza and it’s been pretty dumb so far. This new DBS movie feels like it’s the closest we’ve ever come to a Red Ribbon/Androids revival, and yet Cell is nowhere to be found. I find this very encouraging. If they can show restraint here, then there’s much less chance of Cell showing up in “DBS Movie 5: The Return of Hatchiyack” or whatever.

#dragon ball super super hero

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jadoue1999 · 4 years ago

Text

The X-Men and the member they lost - Chapter 3

Summary: What do you get when you mix Hayward and the Xmen? A pissed off Erik that's seriously trying to not murder the man!

Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8,

Chapter 3: The Maximoff Anomaly

They had settled in fast. The older man that had intercepted them was called Hayward. He seemed very distraught at their arrival and made them go into an unused building. The director hadn’t listened to their protesting, he preferred having them out of the way. For what ever reason, Erik wasn’t sure. They soon realized that time worked differently in this universe. While they had already seen the episode and moved on, it had just ended as they arrived. Charles had told him with amusement that Hank would go crazy over the possibilities. Thankfully, the bunker contained televisions that monitored the town and the broadcast. Hayward had deemed necessary to make sure only people close to him knew of their arrival. They were all sitting around a table when he demanded their story. Charles spoke up. “We’re not from your Earth,” he started.

The director had looked at Kurt with a raised eyebrow, “I had that much figured.”

The professor continued, “two weeks back, one of our members went missing and the broadcast was all we could find. Our universe seems to be ahead of you with the episodes, but we are behind in years.”

“How so?” Questioned the woman sitting next to Erik.

“To us, it’s the eighties.” Charles waited a few moments, letting the people around some time to understand. “We come from a world where people are born with mutations, Kurt here can teleport.” The teenager looked at the professor, silently asking for permission to show his powers. Charles nodded and the blue mutant teleported from one side of the room to another. Hayward seemed shocked as the rest of the people gasped. Charles continued, “this is Raven, she can shapeshift.” Erik smirked as Mystique changed into a perfect copy of the director, making him jump out of his chair in surprise. She turned back into her human form and watched with amusement as Hayward slowly sat back down, eyeing her with caution. Probably seeing how unsettled the agents were, Charles decided to end this quickly. “I can personally read mind and Erik can control metal.”

Erik rolled his eyes as the military people looked at them with wide eyes. He wasn’t going to demonstrate his powers; he had done enough of that with Shaw. The team seemed to get the message that there would be no more demonstrations and moved on.

“So,” said the lady next to the director, “why are you here? Other than the broadcast.”

“Oh well, like I’ve mentioned before, we had a member of our team go missing.” The professor wheeled himself close to a screen and rewound the episode to when Peter appeared. “You see this young man? This is Peter, we had no clue where he went. We watched the broadcast in hopes for answers and we finally found him. Though in a tighter spot than we’d expected, but he does have a knack for trouble.”

Erik smirked at the joke; the speedster had always found himself in the strangest place at the wrong time. He was basically a magnet for trouble.

The director broke the silence. “So, this is not Pietro Maximoff?”

Erik shook his head, deciding to speak up at last, “no, he is not your Pietro, this is Peter Maximoff; my son.”

Hayward seemed surprised that someone other than Charles had spoken. “Is he like you all, enhanced?”

“Yes, he is a mutant,” answered Raven, clearly uncomfortable about the man’s tone. “He has superspeed.”

The director closed his eyes and sighed before turning to his colleague. “Bring the files concerning the Maximoff anomaly, they need to know.” The woman nodded and left the compound. He turned to the other members that hadn’t done much but gape at them and ordered them out. Apparently, he didn’t want people to witness what was about to happen. That left the man alone with the X-men. “Look, I get what you people can do, you barge in and act on an impulse; fix what you think is a threat and leave the rest of us to deal with the mess you leave behind. You might think you’re right, but this is my base.” Erik tensed up at the man’s words, this speech being all too familiar. “I don’t want you meddling in my stuff, Wanda Maximoff is a threat that needs to be dealt with no matter the price. You can go get your friend after.”

It was now official; he hated this man.

Though, before he could show him just how much he despised him, his colleague came back. She didn’t react to the lack of personnel, perhaps she had been expecting it. She was holding a significant number of files and what seemed to be a tv remote. Hayward thanked her and opened a file labeled ‘confidential’. It showed a picture of Wanda. Only she seemed younger, and her hair were a dark brown; there was also a man with bleached blonde hair at her side. They were in a crowd of people, their faces twisted in rage as they seemed to yell to something the picture didn’t show.

“This is Wanda Maximoff, back when she joined a Nazi base and accepted to be experimented on. This is how she got her powers.”

“Director, with all due respect, I believe your thoughts betray you,” interrupted Charles, to the man’s frustration. “I think it’s important to complete your statement and precise that she didn’t know what she was getting herself into.”

Erik secretly praised his friend and his telepathy; Hayward was obviously trying to antagonize the woman. It was obvious they now had to take his version of events with a grain of salt.

“Yes...” grunted the director, obviously upset about being caught in a lie. He pointed to the other man in the picture, “this is Pietro Maximoff, Wanda’s twin, the real one. He too had superspeed.”

He switched on a screen that was flatter than any television Erik had ever seen. It showed Wanda and Pietro in what appeared to be a lab. There was a sort of casket all plugged in with tubes. The pair seemed to be arguing with two older men. There was no audio, so their discussion didn’t make much sense. Suddenly, a blue blur raced through the lab, removing all the tubes in mere seconds. The blonde man stopped next to the casket looking thing and threw the last tube on the floor. It was strange, seeing another version of his son. Their powers were very similar yet very different. While Peter’s trail was silver, Pietro’s was blue, he also left some blue energy lingering in the air. It lasted a few seconds as he stopped before it disappeared. From the few dates in the documents and video, this Quicksilver seemed to have developed his powers only for a few months. It was probably why he seemed to be a little slower than his son. Hayward spoke again.

“The twins were working against the Avengers, those in charge of defending our planet. There was an army of robots threatening to destroy the world, they had sided with the robot in charge.” He glanced quickly at Charles. “They eventually changed sides, but Pietro didn’t survive.”

The footage changed to show a man and a child trying to take cover as a trail of bullets grew nearer. Suddenly, they were out of harm’s way and the speedster was in their place. His shirt was riddled with holes that quickly soaked with blood and he fell to the ground, dead. Fear seized Erik as he watched the man fall to the ground; momentarily seeing Peter in his place. Would a similar thing have happened had Mystique not disguised herself as one of the horsemen?

Hayward continued, showing footage of Wanda fighting in a group against other people, explaining how this event had led to the Sokovia accords, which was nothing more than a differently named mutant registration act. Except this one was actually approved. She had refused to sign and went into hiding, only to resurface when a titan had attacked the Earth. He apparently needed something called infinity stones, one of which was in Vision’s head. From the next chain of event Hayward told them, the titan had apparently succeeded in retrieving the stone. The real mystery was how the Vision was back to life; the director insisted that it was Wanda who resurrected him. She had been blipped, like half of the universe, and had came back grief stricken and ready to do anything to have a perfect family life. She had taken an entire town hostage and made them into her puppets. There was no telling what she might do to achieve her goal. Apparently kidnapping an alternate universe version of her brother wasn’t out of her reach. As Hayward continued telling them about Wanda’s life and what she had done, Erik had only one pressing thought: just how powerful was Wanda?

“How many people are in this town?” Wondered Charles.

“A little more than three thousand. They’re not all casted as roles, most are simply background characters.”

The wheelchair bound man nodded in comprehension. “Have you identified them all? Warned their families?”

He shook his head. “I believe it’s in everyone’s interest if we keep this low, we don’t want to alarm anyone. Especially when the world just came back.”

“You idiot,” raged Raven, “if they can’t reach their loved ones, they will ask questions. They will panic. Your logic is awfully flawed.”

“This is not your dimension, you don’t get to tell me what to do,” argued Hayward, clearly annoyed with them. “I will try to urge the identification process, but you people stay here. I don’t want more superpowered people and their associates getting in my way.”

With that, the man just left the place, followed by his colleague. Whether it was intentional or not, they left their documentation behind. Erik took one of the many files from the pile and opened it. This one described Vision’s origin and whereabouts until he had been destroyed in-

“Charles,” he said, not taking his eyes off the numbers. “This here says that the android died in 2018, five years ago.”

“We traveled 40 years in the future?” Said Kurt, understandably a little overwhelmed by the situation.

Raven put a comforting hand on the teleporter’s shoulder before looking at her friend. Her eyes showed how the situation affected her just as much as it did them. He didn’t blame her; Erik wasn’t sure if he truly grasped the gravity of the implications yet. For now, he preferred to focus on Wanda and her past; the more he knew about her, the better of a chance they’d have to retrieve his son safely and unharmed. The later wasn’t looking too hopeful. From his own experience with mind control and the co-worker’s reaction to being awoken, Peter would likely have a long and painful recovery once he would be back to himself. He just hoped that the differences between their timelines meant that he hadn’t been controlled since he had gone missing. Perhaps, by some luck, he would have arrived a little before he appeared on screen. He didn’t let himself think of what the speedster could have endured before being put under the woman’s spell. Especially if he had been her puppet for the entire two weeks he had disappeared.

“Erik,” interrupted Charles, “I can hear your concerns and I can assure you; your son is a fighter. His mutation is a natural telepath repellent, he’ll be just fine.”

The man smiled at his friend’s words, momentarily comforted. But then, a terrible thought creeped into his head. “Then tell me, old friend, if he is so immune; what horrible torture would he have to go under, so that his mental shield would be lowered enough for him to be vulnerable?”

The silence that followed his statement seemed to confirm that no one had even considered how Peter could be controlled in the first place. They had been too panicked at seeing the young man on the screen and then focused on getting to him to even think of the logic of his newly casted role.

“B-but he’ll be alright,” stammered Kurt, his tail anxiously twitching behind him, swinging, and curling unto itself. “He’s Peter, he always comes out alright.”

Charles smiles weakly at his student, “of course he will, Kurt,” he reassured him, “but we will have to give him time to heal and let him do the first steps when he’ll be ready.”

Erik shared a worried look with Raven, the professor seemed hopeful that the speedster would turn out fine, but he didn’t seem to realize how ahead he was thinking. They were on a military base that had studied for nine days this seemingly all powerful being that didn’t let you in without her consent and a rewrite of your life. And they hadn’t gotten far. From what they had learned, Peter would not be free of Wanda’s control unless she herself brought down the dome. But how could a grief-stricken mutant with powers never seen before just give up what she perceived as the perfect life she deserved?

...

They had stayed up late, learning about Wanda’s past and being horrified at what she had to go through. Erik wasn’t sure how he felt about the woman. She had gone through awful events, a struggle similar to his own. He did feel pity towards her, but he couldn’t look past the fact that she had his son playing her twisted game. The group had eventually settled down for the night, sleeping as good as they could without beds or blankets. They were suddenly awoken by some agitation on the base. Charles stared off into the distance before turning to his team, “Hayward has kicked off people from the base that were being disrespectful to him, now he’s coming our way.”

Indeed, barely fifteen seconds after he had spoken, the director opened the door. He seemed annoyed. “I’m just here to tell you that a new episode should air in the next twenty minutes.”

The blue teen looked at the man, “what happened outside just now?”

His question apparently wasn’t a welcome one since Hayward clenched his jaw in frustration. He answered nonetheless, “I got rid of nuisances. Nothing that concerns you or your team.”

That shut the boy up, but Raven stepped in front of him protectively. “You don’t get to talk to him like that, or to any of us.”

The director narrowed his eyes at her. “You should be thankful,” he snarked, “I could have you all arrested and locked up for the rest of your days, along with your little friend. Yet I haven’t even told anyone about your presence. I’ve been more than benevolent. So, I suggest you watch your mouth.”

Rage built up in Erik, he had heard these words so many times from government figures that disguised their hatred by saying what they could have done but didn’t. The metal bender was well aware that men like him wouldn’t hesitate to sell them out for a raise. What he didn’t appreciate was the way he threatened to imprison Peter as soon as they would get him free from Wanda’s control. Erik felt the metal in the man’s outfit and forced him closer, bringing him at his level. A sliver of fear was seen for a split second in Hayward’s eyes and a feeling of satisfaction crept into his chest. That man was a coward. “You listen to me,” he growled, “we can take out this base in seconds if we feel like it. I’ve seen your kind before, you crush others to rise in rank, but deep down you’re scared. You’re terrified because you’re aware that you are nothing. And if you drop your facade even for a second, they will see you for what you truly are. So, you take out the competition before it even has a chance to realize its potential. But guess what? You’ve met your match because I see you for what you truly are.” He paused as he stared into the man’s eyes. It was a competition of stares that lasted for a few seconds. Erik’s unwavering gaze pierced through the man’s pitiful attempt at intimidation without much effort. Finally, he let his grip go and kept his ground as Hayward took a few steps back. “Here’s a deal, little man, stay out of our way and we’ll stay out of yours.”

The director glared at him and then switched to the other people in the room, probably wondering if the threats he had said had a chance of becoming reality. Whatever he concluded, Erik didn’t know, but the man left the room fuming. The room was silent for a few seconds before Charles wheeled himself closer. He was about to speak but the metal bender beat him to it. “Don’t try to reason with me, old friend, that man had it coming. I only spoke the truth.”

The bald man shook his head. “Yes, you are right, and I don’t blame you for this, but perhaps threatening the director of the base we’re staying in wasn’t the greatest idea?”

Before he could argue, Raven intervened, “I think you did good. It’s been a while since I had seen one of your Magneto speeches; that Stryker knock off deserved it.”

He snorted at her comparison; Hayward was very similar to their own impersonation of the anti-mutant feeling back home. Kurt seemed a little unsettled by Erik’s speech. But he didn’t have time to make sure the teen was alright. Suddenly, the television in their little bunker flickered on; a new episode was starting. They all scrambled to sit down as the screen showed one of the twins running around with a camera in his hands. The upbeat intro song was echoing through the room.

‘Wanda!

WandaVision!

Don’t try to fight the chaos

Don’t question what you’ve done

The game can try to play us

Don’t let it stop the fun’

He opened the bathroom door, showing Wanda brushing her teeth; she also had rollers in her hair. She closed the door with her magic and Tommy ran downstairs to Vision who was reading the newspaper.

‘Some days, it’s all confusion

Easy come and easy go’

Erik watched the screen anxiously as the family members were shown, what would she make her son do?

‘But if it’s all illusion

Sit back, enjoy the show!’

The twin went in the kitchen, their neighbor was looking in the fridge. After a distasteful close up of the woman’s behind, Tommy was now headed for outside.

‘Let’s keep it going

Through each distorted day

Let’s keep it going

Though there may be no way of knowing

Who’s coming by to play’

A blur came out from the house and Erik’s stomach twisted as his son appeared on screen. He was wearing a grey and black shirt and jeans shorts. He briefly stopped in front of the camera and pulled his tongue out like some sort of rock star. He ran out of the shot and came back holding the long-haired twin under one arm. The screen froze to simulate a family picture being taken. The logo ‘WandaVision’ in red and yellow hues.

“Pietro Maximoff as himself?” remarked Raven unimpressed. “Really?”

Erik didn’t react to her voice; he was all too focused on his son. While he didn’t seem that different than usual, he couldn’t help but notice his hair. His usual silver mess of hair were now a bleached blonde. He stared at the screen in disbelief.

This woman had taken away one of Peter’s most unique traits, a part of his personality, to fit her narrative.

He continued looking at the screen with a mix of rage and anxiety. If she had changed him so easily to fulfill her illusion; there was no telling what else she could do if she found out he wasn’t truly her brother.

***

Notes: Next chapter: the halloween special! (and something else)

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chimswae · 3 years ago

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BTS Caretaker CH46

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 4,651

-Warning: This chapter contains slight mention of sexual assault/abuse and violence at the end, please proceed with caution if you are triggered by it.

- Author Note: Another delay update bcs i am busy at work cries im sorry ;; this chapter contains heaps of flashback. If you want to be in taglist (i hope not too late since the series is ending soon you can leave a comment under BTS Caretaker Masterlist ^^*

Previous | Next

Chapter 46

‘It was a bad idea to attend this party, maybe I should just return home’ Seul fixed the strap of her emerald dress, feeling anxious to be in this unfamiliar setting. She knew no one except Kwon, that’s if he had any intention to stick by her side. At least, she would feel less lonely that way.

‘Stupid Kwon. Stupid party. I shouldn’t have come’ her heart threw small tantrums, as she reconsidered to completely bail on Kwon and took the earliest flight to United States, meeting the boys.

What did she gain from this again?

Oh yes, that douchebag Kwon threatened to release the videos. Therefore, to bail on Kwon was almost impossible. She hadn’t even entered the venue, and she could literally feel herself failing. Seul pressed her lips together, inhaling enough oxygen for her to breathe, she took a small step back ‘Fuck Kwon, let’s get back and pack’

“Not so fast” a pair of hand wrapped tightly around her waist, halting her steps. Arrogant Kwon had a smug on his face as he pulled the girl casually to his side “You are in no position to leave me now, I thought we have come to an agreement” he quirked his brows with a knowing look.

“I am changing my mind. Find someone else to entertain you”

“Of course, which means I will let everyone watch how good you are in bed” he released her from his grip and signalled his assistant to do whatever he had in his original plan. Seul stared blankly at the young man in front of her, he looked so determine to drop the bombs. The bombs that will end many lives including hers.

At that instant, she regretted her decision to defy Kwon’s words. “Please don’t do it. I take back my words, I will do this” she blurted out clumsily. Kwon’s assistant shot her a wary glance as they exchanged another look before he shoved his phone back deep inside his pocket.

Kwon smirked in victory “I wasn’t planning on exposing you to public anyways, besides you are still Kwon’s. Now let’s start with the hunt, shall we?” he held out one of his hand, waiting for Seul to take it.

It took her a moment before she slipped her cold hand in his, and they both made their grand entrance to the party. Seul’s jaw slackened at the sight of the balls admiring its luxurious decorations therefore she felt underdress for this occasion. As if the elegance radiated from the balls alone mocked on her simple outfit. Seul was conscious of her appearance now.

The attendees were donning their most expensive suits and dresses looking socially fitted in this group of people. Whilst, she was the only black sheep among others. Average looking girl in a cheap dress that she got from a boutique downtown. She wore no fancy jewelleries except for her favourite couple bracelet with Yoongi and a crescent moon necklace present from Jungkook.

Technically, she’s Kwon’s black sheep so it made sense she felt that way.

How pitiful.

For the first hour, she stuck by Kwon side like a glue letting him introduce her and his personal assistant every time they met new faces. Thankfully, he only referred her as his plus one instead of claiming that she is his daughter. Seul wouldn’t appreciate the spotlight though.

She had zero ideas how the elites socialize, but one thing for sure, they were only here for business, not to make friends. Judging by how conscious they were with their surroundings, as if they were surrounded with enemies instead of friends.

Fake. She made a mental note on them while proceed with her witch hunt.

“Finally, the star of the night, it is an honour to meet you Director Jung. Congratulations!” Kwon’s voice snapped her out from her deep thought. Her attention now was on a tall man in front of her, looking squeaky clean and classy in his dark blue suit. He was quite young maybe in his late twenties. She assumed he’s the man she had to talk to tonight, the heir of Obyu Group.

The man had a sinister smile on his face, giving off this negative vibe causing her to cringe in her stance. “Glad that you could make it tonight Kwon, I heard you have an offer to make. Its better be good” he nodded unknowingly.

“About that, let me introduce you to my daughter. This is Seul” he placed his hand on her back startling the girl.

Seul faked a smile and bowed slightly “Nice to meet you and congratulations Director Jung”

He raised his brows in curiosity, “I don’t know you are married Kwon and have a stunning daughter” he took her hand, winking at her way and placed a soft kiss on it.

“I am Jung Hyunmin, and you are, Seul? Pretty name for a beautiful face” he rubbed her hand in circle, sending goosebumps through her body.

“I..thank you…” uncomfortable with his excessive kinship, she pulled away from his hold gently.

Not taking his eyes off Seul, Hyunmin fixed his right cuff “This is the perfect time to talk Kwon” he was scrutinizing every inch of her body, which scared the shit out of her. Kwon on the other hand was ready to throw everything that he had for his business.

Seul was holding her breath, hoping that this man would stop the undressing her with his eyes. He really had no respect on woman, did he?

“I’ll be back, so don’t go anywhere” Kwon whispered softly, eyeing his personal assistant to keep his eyes on Seul. The heir of the Obyu Group stole a quick glance at Seul and mouthed “I will see you soon beautiful” he disappeared between the crowd gracefully followed by Kwon and Jung’s assistant.

Ten minutes had passed.

And, another ten minutes had passed. Seul grew impatient, it started showing on her face.

‘What took him so long’ Seul grumbled lowly under her breath, earning the attention of Kwon’s personal assistant. She had tried to keep herself sane and entertained yet it suffocated her to have this young man breathing down her neck.

She couldn’t even swallow her food or drinks without feeling like someone was all ready to murder her every second. Considering how he never took his eyes on her, instead of flirting with beautiful rich woman in the party, his dedication towards his job deserved a raise.

“How long have you been working for Kwon? You look young...” she broke the silence between them to ease the tension.

“None of your business”

“Ouch, that is mean. I am trying to make friends”

“Certainly not with me. I am not allowed to talk to you”

“But you already did” a smile crept across her lips. As she looked on, the corner of his mouth twitched, probably amused by Seul’s chirpy side.

“So, will you feed my curiosity?”

“It has been two years. I believe you are younger than me. I am 25 this year” he replied coldly, keeping his straight face.

Satisfied with his response, she forced her lips a broader curve and smiling gleefully “I am amazed how you can stand Kwon, good job personal assistant oppa”

“Mmm..Kay..” he maintained his facial expression not to give in to Seul. Being soft was not in the description of his job. However, he’s worried of Seul knowing what Kwon had planned for this poor girl. So gullible and foolish.

Again, it was none of his business anyways. He worked for Kwon not Seul.

After an hour waiting, Kwon finally returned with a smiley face. Thankfully the creepy heir of Obyu group was nowhere to be seen. Judging from his face, it seemed like Kwon had settled his issues with the young man himself, therefore her presence was no longer important in this event.

“Director Jung request for your presence in his room now”

Her excitement immediately died down upon hearing that. She grimaced and shot Kwon a disgruntled look “Why? I thought you guys have settled whatever issues that you have with him.”

“If it is that easy I wouldn’t be asking you to be here tonight. Do not waste his time, he is an impatient man”

“Fine. Are there any specific issues that I need to arise when I meet him? Like, you literally said that I must convince him in something. Just what is it?”

“Nothing that you should worry off, I already did the talking. He only wants to see you casually, no business talk”

Suspicious by his ambiguous replies, Seul wished his assistant would try to explain the situation. To his dismay, nothing came from the man. What did she expect again? He’s working for Kwon of course he would only obey his order.

“Will it take long?”

“Depends. If you behave then, he will let you leave early” a sly smug spread across his face again.

Kwon took a step closer to where Seul stood, passing a key card to her discreetly “Level 20, the suite is on your left. Behave and don’t cause trouble” he whispered as his gaze fixed on the clueless girl.

Baffled, Seul took the card carefully from his grip and left the party without sparing any final glance towards the sick old man. All she wanted was to end this night and forgot it ever happened. Even though Kwon didn’t make things clear for her, she was determined to end the talk with Jung Hyunmin in peace.

Hopefully, this would be her last time seeing him and Kwon.

He collected Seul’s phone on the floor and set up the phone camera on the tripod with a sly grin. Her desperate whimpers could be heard clearly behind the tape, making him even eager to start the game.

Jung took his time to admire Seul’s half naked body from the screen, giving a circular trace along it as though he’s touching it with his bare hand.

He pressed the record button before making his way towards the couch. Seul squeezed her eyes tight out of fear, she fiddled with the tight rope around her wrist hoping to find some loose hole, so she could do something about it.

He sunk on the seat without uttering anything. Jung was only in his boxer and the red tie which hung messily around his neck, making him look ten time sillier. Anyone that witnessed this side of him would not believe he is an heir of a big company in the country.

What a disgrace to the family.

Jung Hyunmin looked disoriented and awful.

Scattered messily on the mahogany coffee table were different kinds of white powder, which she could obviously tell from the mere image that they were drugs. Seul had no idea why he had to flaunt the drugs on the table, or was it his thing to sniff it before getting into action?

Shuddered by the thoughts, Seul clawed her palm while tugging the tight ropes down using her remaining energy. She watched him sniff the drugs and got high over it for few minutes.

Holy, it was scary and disgusting.

“What are you looking at, you whore!” he hissed.

Seul stared at him in sheer fear, finding herself tearing up again at the thoughts of dying in this room by any minute now.

“Seriously? Why the fuck, are you crying bitch?” he was annoyed, with that his violence side probably the side effect from the drugs started showing. The angry man, pressed his sole at the center of Seul’s face, putting extra pressure on it. He watched Seul squirmed in desperation gasping for air to breathe.

The pressure from his sole blocked any oxygen from entering her body, and Seul sobbed in agony, slowly becoming weak over his endless torture.

He let out a deep chuckle liking the effect that he had on her.

Jung Hyunmin was not only abusive and a drug addict, but he’s a psychopath.

A harsh hand tugged her hair, pulling her up “If and only you are not being stubborn, I don’t need to tie you up. I told you I want to have fun, right?” even though she had no strength to talk, she pushed herself up. The man made her kneed while he never let go her hair almost ripping it out.

“Babe, you are beautiful okay?” his dark chuckle was disturbing.

“Stop pushing me away and let’s enjoy the night. Be a good girl” she could feel his hand caressed her jaw making its way down in between her breast. Seul whimpered at the slight touch, trying to get away from the disgusting man.

He had her mouth and hand sealed with black tape which made her even more vulnerable and weak. There’s no sign of hope in the room. This man was sick in his head.

The man pulled away from Seul, and she was relief when his hands finally stopped exploring her exposed body.

To her utter disappointment, the freedom didn’t last long.

She heard footsteps coming closer to her direction again, for some reason her heart twitched in fear. The man squatted in front of her with a snicker “I never knew that Kwon has such a pretty daughter, he should have told me earlier. Things would be easier for him to seal the deal, if he gave you up sooner” the voice sounded cold, heartless and empty.

His hand traced along her messy hair “I am sorry that I can’t keep you clean baby, I just want to wreck you” his eyes travelled to meet her eyes. The stings on her face made it hard for her to utter anything. Her face was swollen with bruises.

Seul was severly beaten by this young man without caring whether her body could take the beating or not.

He really beat her as though she was his punching bag.

This man had no boundaries when it came to gender. He appeared to treat everyone like a fucking toy and screwed them over whenever he wants.

He squished her chin, forcing his tongue down her throat. He murmured between kisses, “Lets begin, shall we?” Seul muffled her scream, as she sobbed in pain.

‘Yoongi help me..please’ her agony, her pain, her fear could only be heard in her own head. This was unbearable, she wasn’t sure if she could handle this pain.

Seul sobbed and sobbed as she felt him groan harshly in her ears, and then shivered against her.

‘Yoongi, I am sorry’

Tossing her body uncomfortably on the bed, Seul started to break a cold sweat. She could not differentiate dreams and reality anymore as everything felt too real for her. Every night she was haunted by the same nightmare, the trauma from the incident was still fresh in her mind.

Seul gripped onto the bedsheet beneath her tight, she emitted a soft squirm in her sleep, feeling the gush of fear sipping in. His voice, his touch and everything felt too real to be considered as nightmare.

“Let me go”

“Yo..ongi..help m..e”

It was no longer uncommon to hear Seul whimpering in her sleep, muttering Yoongi’s name. Ever since Seul was back in his arms, he wouldn’t leave her side unless it was important then he would make one of the members to take turns to accompany her.

Yoongi stirred in his sleep, sensing the slight movement from Seul. He snapped his eyes opened, alerted by Seul usual nightmares and like a reflex he embraced her to his chest tightly.

“I am here baby, I am here” her body tensed a little before it burrowed into Yoongi’s softness.

Seul’s breathing had slowly became even again, and she opened her eyes.

“Yoong, did I make noise in my sleep again?” she muttered still half asleep.

“Don’t worry about it baby, let’s sleep again. We have to wake up early” he whispered against her hair, caressing her back, smothering Seul in his embrace.

“I am sorry”

“No, you are not apologizing”

“I love you, Min Yoongi” Yoongi heard her murmured, then she fell into her deep slumber again.

“I love you too, my love”

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

“Babe, what do you mean by you want to drop the charges against that bastard?” the corner of his eyes twitched with a hint of frustration, as he spaced out looking extremely pissed off over Seul’s sudden decision.

Her eyes were fixated on her laps, fiddling with the hem of her black sweater “I..am scared Yoongi, I don’t want to ruin your career, it is a big deal. The society won’t forgive you and I for the tape”

“It is a big deal but that doesn’t mean we have to let the bastard go! Tell me what did you guys talk in the room with Bang? Did Bang make you do this? Is he using you to save the company?”

“Seul I think it is best to think about it again, this is a serious crime. We can’t drop it as if it never happens” Namjoon shook his head disagreed with the girl’s decision.

Jin on the other hand had a perplexed look, not liking the idea of letting the man go freely. Everyone had been talking about this matter and was very concerned of what the man was capable to do if he’s not thrown into the prison soon.

Yoongi was fuming in anger scaring the timid girl even more.

She didn’t want to get caught in a lie this soon. Bang had promised to her that they would find solution to this problem, and that she must follow whatever the Jung guy said to them in the earlier meeting.

Seul had no choice but to comply to his request. Not to mention, she was in no position to tell anyone about it not even Yoongi.

“So, what do you have in your plate?” Jung Hyunmin smirk with so much arrogance, as he leaned back in his seat scrutinizing Seul and Bang PD distressed face.

“Are you aware of the charges that Miss Ji has made against you?” said the man in the round glasses named Ki Hong, one of the renowned lawyers in the country which also part of Big Hit legal team.

Jung nodded with a small smile “My lawyer has briefly told me about it and I am surprised that Miss Ji filed the lawsuit. This lady over here was not 100% innocent either I believed. The last time I remembered, she willingly came to me, I did not force her.”

“And are you denying the charges that has been made against you Director Jung?” Ki Hong pressed sternly.

“About that, I am calling all of you here because we have something to discuss. It’s about the future of your company, your idol, Miss Ji and of course me. I would rather handle this case quietly. No fuss, no medias and no laws involved of course” Jung tilted his head.

Bang PD shifted in his seat eyeing the mischievous man in front of him with a hint of confusion and anger. The spoiled rich man started to get on his nerve.

“What do you mean by that? You assaulted a woman which happened to be Big Hit’s employee, and we have prepared enough evidence to drag you to court. We are not here for your childish game” Bang finally found his words to reason with the ignorant man.

“What evidence? You have no witness. You only have a medical report and CCTV footage from the night of the balls, which aren’t enough to make me stand inside the court. If you are talking about Kwon, it is his words against yours, no one could prove anything that he said.”

Seul inhaled deeply, pressing her palms together. Gathering her courage to hear the man’s voice once again was torturous. Only Yoongi managed to calm her down but he wasn’t here to do that. Even though he insisted to be with Seul to the meeting, Bang Pd rejected the idea to avoid rumours.

��Ironically, the medical report can’t prove that she was sexually assaulted by me. You can’t find my DNA in her” Jung continued cockily earning a death glare from Ki Hong and Bang PD.

“Are you indirectly admitting to your crimes?” Bang snorted.

“Maybe. Maybe not because I don’t even think it is a crime. That night I have her consent to do whatever I want”

“No you d-ont! You don’t have my consent, you force yourself on me” Seul said bravely with her eyes shut.

“I have Kwon’s consent, it is a beautiful exchange to his zero-debt life”

Bang Pd glanced at Seul as guilt consumed him for not letting Yoongi to tag along. If he knew Seul would be this scared to have Jung presence in the same room as her, he would stop Seul from agreeing to his idea of meeting Jung Hyunmin face to face.

“You are disgusting young man, we are not dropping the charges. You deserve to be in prison for the damage that you have caused to Seul” Ki Hong nodded in agreement to Bang’s words.

Jung smirked to himself and chuckled darkly “Our talk hasn’t even started; don’t you want to hear my proposition?”

“What kind of proposition that you have?”

“The sex tape of course” the room turned into dead silent.

Seul snapped her head meeting Jung’s gaze, her face was expressionless.

“You know Miss Ji, the deal that Kwon made came with free sex tape” he threw his phone at the centre of the table with the videos played in the screen.

She could feel blood rushing through her veins.

Ki Hong reached out to stop the video as him and Bang exchanged a concerned look. This could ruin everyone.

He knew they were looking for the tape to get rid of the only copy that Kwon had. Little did they know; this sick man already had their hands on it. Of course, Jung would have the upper hand considering his status, he’s willing to do anything to get things into his favour.

“My sole intention was to keep the tape as a leverage in case Kwon tried some funny business on me. I have no idea that it will be useful until today. I wonder how the people in Korea would react to this scandalous video? It is time to think about your future Miss Ji..”

“Porn revenge is illegal and for having this in your possession will only give you more trouble with the laws” Ki Hong gritted his teeth holding back the obvious anger shown on his face.

“Fuck laws. You know even the laws can’t touch me, that is how fucked up the laws in our country. Have you ever thought of what will happen to everyone in your company Bang Pd-nim? BTS, your employees and Miss Ji, everything that you work for will turn to ashes in one night because of this tape”

“What do you want?”

“Drop the charges of course, we don’t want this news reach my father. The old man has enough problems to handle anyways. And, pretend this never happen. In exchange of that, I will make sure to keep the tape hidden. No one breaths any words about the tape and the eventful night. It’s a win-win situation”

“I believe we need you to get rid of the tape or return it to us”

“Nuh, what fun do we have if we do that? Plus, I am not giving you a choice. I am making the choice for you. It is either you drop the charges and we speak nothing about this again or you can proceed with the charges, but the video will be released to public in an hour or less. You are in no position to make a counter offer here”

Seul balled her hands into fists, racking through her messy brain while digesting Jung’s threats. He was using their weakness to get to them. In fact, this wasn’t her first time to think about the damage that the tape could do to Yoongi and BTS. If it was Kwon that they had to deal with, it would be less complicated.

She took a quick glance to her side, both men looked defeated contrary to their normal self few minutes ago. Aware of what could possibly circulate in Bang Pd’s mind, Seul had to make the decision.

“Let me know your decision, this is the best that I can offer to you”

“You are making the offer which only benefit your party. How can we trust you won’t use the tape to get to us again in the future?” the older man questioned glaring at his way.

“I prepared an agreement for all of us, of course” he signalled his assistant who stood few metres away from the seat to bring over the documents. Baffled by his seriousness, Bang Pd and Ki Hong was not convinced if this would be the best way to resolve the issues.

Especially, this didn’t only involve the company’s future but as well as Seul’s. If they were to agree with this, it simply meant they sacrificed Seul’s life to protect their company. That was the selfish thing to do yet they had come to dead end.

“I will drop the charges”

“What? Seul, we have to talk about this first! Don’t take any rash decision!” Bang and Ki hong looked intense in their seats knowing the ridiculousness of this deal.

“It is best for everyone, for Yoongi, for BTS, and Bang Pd-nim I don’t have a heart to ruin your hard work over the foolish mistakes that we made. I can’t see everything crumble just because of me. I want to end this, just please let me drop the charges”

“I disagreed. We will find a better way to resolve this, the world doesn’t revolve around him”

“I am sorry... I ...cant.. it is best if we..just settle it this way. We can’t ruin everything just for me, I will get over this. Everyone in Big Hit is my family, I have to protect my family” she blinked away her tears.

Jung’s loyal assistant sympathized Seul, and it finally hit him hard that he’s very much was as guilty as charged. First, he didn’t have the courage to speak up for Seul. Even though, he was indeed the sole witness that night. Out of compassion, he braved himself to help her to escape from Jung, yet no one knew about it, not even Jung.

He clutched onto the phone in his pocket contemplating whether his loyalty for Jung was worth it or was it bring more harm than good?

Yoongi took a deep sigh before pulling the girl into tight embrace “Baby, whatever that is in your mind, you have to stop. We must bring the man to justice. I can’t live with the thought of him still lurking out there after what he had done to you” he was angry a minute ago, then he quickly snapped out from it realizing it wasn’t the best approach to this issue.

“I know, but can you please… just this once… let it slide for me.. I.. am tired Yoongi, the case will take a long time, and I don’t think I have energy to hear about it again and again. I love you and I know you care for me. But just..trust me with this?” she muttered weakly, inhaling his scent and sought comfort from it.

He looked up meeting Jin and Namjoon worried eyes, as though he could read what’s on their mind, he stroked her waist deeply “Alright, if that is what you want. Next time, please talk to me first before you decide something, I don’t want to be left behind. I am your boyfriend, and we are in this together”

Yoongi was obviously not okay with it, he couldn’t hide from his members.

Taglist: @thedumpleeng @eridanuswave @jjeon-jpg

#btscaretaker #bts series #bts fic #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #yoongi x oc #bts x oc #jungkook x oc #jimin fic #jungkook fic #bts x read #yoongi x reader #bts fanfiction #kpop fic #bts romance

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cafeinthemoon · 4 years ago

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The Leaves of Her Garden - Chapter XIV

Title: The Leaves of Her Garden

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Madara Uchiha x reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 2514

Chapter (s): 14/?

Read the previous chapters here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Interlude, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 🖤 | ▶▶

Chapter XIV - Ninjutsu

The moment of the Todoroki’s farewell finally came.

You didn’t know if it was because you were becoming used to your role as Sachiko Uchiha or if it was the thought of seeing the Todoroki leaving, but you felt that playing your part during their farewell was easier than during the wedding.

Your feet didn’t fail you when you walked toward them by Madara’s side, nor your hand trembled when you offered it to Koji Todoroki, their head and Sachiko’s father, who accepted your gesture with visible contentment, wrinkles forming around his brown eyes alongside the composed smile he gave you and your husband: it was clear how much satisfied he was to see things going according to his plans. It was almost risible when you remembered that this man were genuinely convinced that you were his beloved daughter and that you were the key to the Uchiha’s favor. You felt tempted to glance at Madara, to see his expression as he looked at the man, but you contained yourself: everything was almost over now; you couldn’t take the risk of messing up with everything.

Only when Koji released your hand and stepped back to his previous spot alongside the elders of his clan (all of them his uncles, as Madara told you), to a position where you could analyze his figure in precious details, you started to understand your feelings about him.

That man, not so far from his sixties, would never seem so impressive if you saw him in common clothing and all alone; nothing about him – his average height, his grayish hair tied down with a red stripe falling over his back and his simple wood sandals, not so different from the ones worn by the other Todoroki – was worthy of catching one’s particular attention. He was not distinguishable like Madara: his resemblance with the other members of his clans, not all of them as important as the elders, was such that he could be taken as any other person but their leader. His expression while observing everything around him corroborated with that impression: a discreet but perceptible smile, followed by a muffle sound in his throat that reminded you of a giggle and a nod of his head had some soothing effect over his appearance. If it wasn’t for your current situation, you would have sympathized with him.

Yet there was one thing in him that could tell you that he was not a simple man, and it was his eyes. Brown, small and perspicacious eyes, as the ones of a collector of rarities or a seller, always measuring the value of everything, seeking for benefits and good opportunities. The first time you looked into them during the wedding, all the illusion about his simple nature was gone and could not be brought back, and the same happened to you during the farewell. You finally were able to understand what Madara was talking about when he stated that this man’s clan were not to be taken lightly: if that was your impression of their head, you didn’t want to imagine what you should expect from the elders, more experienced – and unscrupulous – than him. You felt lucky that you didn’t have to speak directly at them during the lunch, moments before.

Now, you were glad that you would not get to see them in a long time.

When all the formalities were exchanged, Madara gave the sign and some of the Uchiha men near your post passed to the other clan’s side. They were the men chosen to guard the Todoroki entourage on their way home. Izuna, who was at his brother’s side and remained quiet until that moment, gave them some instructions and wished them good luck on their mission. They nodded, and finally the whole group turned and started to walk toward the road, guided by the Uchiha guards.

When the they disappeared at the distance, a general sensation of safety seemed to spread among the people who came to the farewell. Some of them started to walk back to the compound’s interiors, to their own activities; the remaining ones formed smaller groups between themselves and you heard whispers coming and going through your ears, but you were too focused on your own state to understand what they were saying.

When you were no longer capable of distinguish the presence of the group at the road, you took a breath of relief, but you didn’t realize it until you heard a muffled laugh near you. You looked at your right and found Izuna staring at you, the same strange expression you used to identify in his dark eyes, something between hilarity and seriousness that always unsettled you, so that you didn’t know if he liked or despised you.

And to think that he was nothing like this just a moment ago, when speaking to his pairs who were to guard the Todoroki during their travel. You could say anything you wanted about Izuna, but you should recognize his talent as an actor.

- Among all of us, our Sachiko girl is the one who best played her part, but it seems that this wore her out – he commented, crossing his arms – I understand. Fathers can be scary when they want to. And that one in particular – he glanced at the road’s direction – He gives me the creeps.

Your eyes widened a bit when you heard those words. You immediately looked at Madara, eager to find out his reaction and act according to it: after the things he showed to you through his dojutsu, it was the appropriate thing to do. But he didn’t do more than stare at his brother in silence and ignore him right after.

Izuna didn’t seem intimidated by this, nor his smile faded; was it possible that he had a different perception of those events than Madara? You didn’t have much time to think about it, because soon he got back to his serious manners and changed the subject as if nothing happened.

- Anija, I’m going to take care of that work. The sooner we get ready, the better.

- Go, but be careful to do it exactly as I told you.

You sensed no trace of exasperation in your husband’s tone when he replied. Maybe he was used to Izuna’s way of expressing himself.

The younger Uchiha nodded and left without any more words for you or his brother. You observed while he walked away, his tied, black hair covering the center of the clan’s crest on the back of his clothing.

- Y/n.

You startled a bit when you heard Madara calling you by your true name in the presence of other people, but then remembered that most of the presents knew about it. You turned to him.

- Is there something wrong?

- No, absolutely – he smiled – But you seem a little worried.

You couldn’t help trying to explain yourself.

- It’s nothing serious. It’s just that I…

Still smiling, he nodded, as if you just confirmed his theory.

- You aren’t sure about my brother’s feelings towards you – before you could reply, you felt his fingers brushing your hair behind your ear – Do not worry. Despite his manners, which are more likely to mess with one’s perception when they are not familiar to him, Izuna likes you. I haven’t had an opportunity to tell it to you but now, but it is true.

You blushed, but didn’t reply. Hearing this from Madara’s mouth was somehow comforting: since you first met Izuna, you felt like the young man had nothing for you except despise.

- Right after he brought you, he came to speak to me about you – he continued – Not only he described your resemblance with the other girl, but he also explained the conditions in which he found you, pointing out that you must have had an exceptional physical resistance for someone who is not a shinobi to not succumb during the travel to our compound. When I heard what he said, I immediately became interested. It was too good to be true, or so I believed until I have put my eyes on you.

You suddenly remembered your first night at that room you were left to rest, the darkness that surrounded you and that corner where you saw the pair of red eyes. The next morning you tried to talk to Izuna about it, but he didn’t want to hear you. Now, the last thing you’d expect was to hear Madara himself bring the case to light, but there you were, hearing him explain how he entered your room and stood there, analyzing you with his Sharingan.

- I must tell you that I was impressed to see Izuna’s hypothesis confirmed – he smiled as if he just read your thoughts – You were weak and injured, and your body was exhausted, that is true, but you would survive and recover, and then would be ready to play your part. Later, not only you were capable of running into a physical conflict and stay on your feet, but you also did well during our training. I mentioned this in one of the messages I sent to my brother while he was away, and he made his good opinion on you very clear in his reply.

You looked ahead, at the same direction Izuna took when he left, and a changed occurred in your opinion of him as well. The anxiety you used to feel every time you were in his presence or thought about him was now slowly disappearing. Since he brought you there, Izuna had a way to make you feel like you’d never be a part of his family, of his clan, but knowing his true thoughts on you soothed your worries. Maybe one day you would see him as your brother too.

Madara’s words about your resilience also reminded you of something you’ve been considering since he told you he was going to leave the compound in a few days.

You turned to him looking for the right words, but it seemed that he was already expecting for that.

- You want to ask me something, y/n? – and caressing your cheek – You do not need to think much about it, then. Just speak.

- Well, first I wanted to know how much time you will… how much time we have together before you leave.

He thought of it for a moment.

- One week. Not much more than this. Why do you ask?

- I’ve been thinking of it since you mentioned your travel – you took his hand on yours; somehow the gesture helped you to find your words – It’s not that I find any flaws in your measures to keep us safe while you’re away, but… I want to take my own measures to take care of myself, and I thought that you could help me in this.

Madara’s smile widened when he heard that, so pleased he was with it.

- I see. You want me to train you during this period, but you are not sure if one week is enough for you to learn something useful in case you have to defend yourself or the people around you.

You nodded, but there was more, and your face burned when you explained it to him.

- To speak the truth, I want to know if in one week I would be able to learn… ninjutsu – you you gave his hands a soft squeeze, feeling the obligation of justifying yourself for asking something that he could see as absurd – It does not need to be something complicated, it could be just enough for me to protect myself and avoid a physical confrontation, which would be more dangerous.

Madara didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he analyzed your words for a moment, then took his hands off yours and passed his arm around your waist.

- There are still many people here, though you could think there are not – he whispered – Let me take you to a calmer place where we can talk properly.

In fact, there were less people around now and you wouldn’t mind talking in their presence, but he seemed worried about that. You chose to think that he, who knew those people for longer than you, was more prepared to decide what was best to say in front of them or not, so you just let him lead you to wherever he wanted to take you.

***

You didn’t go back to the house nor to any strange place. In a moment, with the same technique he preformed to take you to your room after that morning when you were training your body memory, Madara reached the garden with you. You started to think that this place in particular was surrounded by some sort of protection he created with his shinobi abilities, for he implied that you were safe once you were there with him.

You considered questioning him about it, but somehow you thought that this was a subject for another day.

When you look into his eyes after the arrival, you saw a distinct gleam in them, followed by a smile you understood he was containing until that moment. Was he satisfied with your request, or was he mocking you?

He answered your question as if he heard you formulating it.

- So… You want to learn how to dance, y/n? I was waiting for the moment you were going to ask me something like this – you felt his fingers giving a subtle squeeze on your waist, your skin warming up under his touch even with your clothes being there to separate them – However, you surprised me with your interest in ninjutsu. That surpassed my expectations.

You were still a little nervous, though.

- And is it a bad thing? – you’ve put your hands over his shoulders – I wasn’t lying when I told you I just want to protect mys…

His giggle interrupted you.

- I know. And I approve your request. However...

The giggle slowly turned into silence. Then he spoke, low and serious as you still haven’t seen him.

- I want to hear your reasons for it. They will determine my answer.

You frowned.

- But I already told you…

Madara raised his finger and placed it over your lips.

- I know that there are more behind this, y/n, and you cannot hide it from me. Or why do you think I brought you to this isolated place to have this conversation?

You held your breath. After all you’ve seen from Madara Uchiha since you’ve met him, you should have expected something like this: nothing was ever simple with him.

You sensed his approaching, but did not try to pull away. He continued to speak in whispers in your ear.

- You understand that I could simply use my Mangekyo Sharingan to search through your mind and find the answer. But I do not want to act like this. I want to have a normal conversation with you, girl. I want to hear the story from you.

#naruto fanfiction #madara #madara fanfiction #madara x reader

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elenamegan14 · 4 years ago

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Twisted Wonderland: Headcanons for Dorm Haunted Houses Pt.5 - Octavinelle

MASTERLIST

Part 4

Probably the longest headcanon one I had so far. LOL.

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TW: Slight dubcon elements and submechanophobia.

THE ATTRACTION:

This dorm’s haunted house is quite unique because it’s a mish-mash between a cruise ship and the jazz lounge hall from the Roaring 1920s. For some reason, after thorough research, Azul wanted to include ‘submechanophobia’ (fear of animatronics submerged in water) into the haunted dorm concept himself.

Azul went crazy with all the merchandise - there were T-Shirts, posters, the most adorable set of acrylic keychains! And the piece of resistance is a two-song single that he and the twins have recorded. It has a physical and digital release, of which the latter had 1,300,000 downloads in just one day.

The promos are crazy too. The way the staff had shot the commercial for the dorm’s haunted house is so cinematically professional that many were taught it was a real movie itself. Luckily, Azul also recorded the dorm’s theme. PS: They also did Pomefiore’s promo video too for a cut share of 15%.

Azul wanted to increase his clients on Monstro Lounge, but he cannot go easy on the student participants as well. He wanted to hear BOTH screams - so the treatment for the students in the survival game and the guests is going to be very different from another.

Regular guests will be scared in a standard manner: jumpscares from animatronics, a bit of gas blowing on their necks - NO TOUCHING AT ALL.

As for the students… well, they’re most likely to get attacked ALL THE TIME. Your name it: physical touches, animatronics dragging them to their ‘doom’, etc. That’s why the dorm made a contract clause to the participants warning them that there will be physical touching and a safe word is provided. Most participants did not read this except for a few. Like MC and Jack. Unless they purchased his charms.

Yes, the octopus capitalist had created their own charms that worked only for this haunted house ONLY. It protects students from the monsters, well MOSTLY.

Perhaps because he was attached to the band he, Floyd, and Jade once made back in middle school, he wanted to include the entertainment aspect as well, perhaps for nostalgic sake. Plus, he did it because he knew people would pay money to see hot idol guys singing jazz songs. Of course, he did, why do you doubt him so?

“Do instruments of torture count?” Floyd asked during the first band meeting. Azul quickly dismissed it. And no, mayonnaise is definitely NOT a musical instrument.

When guests and student participants arrived in the dorm’s haunted house, they were lured into an abandoned pier. During the walk in the eerie, fog-infested docks, guests could see some posters of missing people, old posters of a cruise ship trip promotion, a poster featuring the Octavinelle band in old-timey fashion and old news articles about a tragic malfunctioning animatronic accident.

As they approached closer, they could hear several jazz songs, including electro swings coming from somewhere. Guests also noticed some abandoned, dilapidated animatronics that was missing some parts, giving it a frightening outlook. What really unsettles them most are writings on the wall that are written either in blood or blacks markers: “TURN BACK!” “WATCH OUT!” “STAY AWAY FROM THE CRUISE SHIP!”

They arrived at their destination: a large cruise ship was waiting on them. On the entrance, the dorm staff sold their merchandise and charms to the students themselves. Already traumatized by the two previous haunted houses, most students hurriedly buy the charm itself. Grimm wanted one because there is no way he would want to be “attacked” again, but Deuce managed to stop him from buying an ‘unnecessary’ object (“Unnecessary my foot! We’re talking about the benefit of humanity here!”).

Ace secretly buys one. “There’s not wrong with being prepared!” He whispered to himself.

Entering the den of the beast, they went inside a lavish foyer area that is reminiscent of a scene in titanic. Chandeliers, art deco furniture, and art, as well as posters of the animatronic bands, were shown in meticulous detail.

They were then seated at a wide, spacious restaurant theater area. The staff hyped the audience by asking them to sing a few lines from Azul’s song, before introducing Azul’s band like in a jazz concert.

They began the pre-show in a unique way. Azul is a showstopper mysterious owner and headline singer for “Monstro Lounge”, the cruise ship that is rumored to have a multitude of people missing. Floyd and Jade are his lackeys with the same headline as well.

Azul charms the audience with a siren-like voice, putting the audience into his trance. For some reason, the Octavinelle trio tends to direct their gazes, winks, and fanservice towards MC the most. It then evolved into a Broadway show-stopping number.

The way Azul plays his piano is started off slow, increasing his tempo and so does his seduction and flamboyance. He makes an expression that one could mistake as a man experienced in the bedroom.

Floyd goes crazy with his drums. Meanwhile, Jade plays his contrabass with grace and elegance, fingers touching it lightly but spicy.

Many female clientele almost had a nosebleed... or this close to fainting.

AZUL UNBUTTONED HIS SHIRT TEASINGLY DURING HIS NUMBER. They’re starting to lose it.

Oh, the fan’s screams actually racked up their scream counter. There’s no cheating here - who says that happy screams can’t count?

Yes, Azul does sing on top of the piano.

After they finished their show, Azul then unleashed one of his proudest creations, an animatronic of a lovely mermaid doll that began to sing like an angel. Then, with a snap of fingers, he unleashed a multitude of doll-like merpeople animatronics that looked strangely alive as her accompanying orchestra, playing a haunting, eerie song.

During the middle of the show, one of Octavinelle’s actors came to the stage, shouting about his “long-lost daughter”, followed by a couple more people. Despite the actor playing as security told him to go back to his seat, the father ignored him and embraced the mermaid doll animatronic - his daughter.

In his “rant”, he cursed the Octavinelle trio of deliberately hiding his daughter for three years and turned her into this “monstrosity”. He then declared that he will rescue his daughter from this “vile place‘, unaware that the Octavinelle trio had placed knowing smirks and grins on their face. Begging for his “daughter” to recognize him, the mermaid doll slowly gazed upon her “father”...

...and “tore” his neck apart. Fake blood spewing everywhere, his screams reverberated through the dance hall.

All of the animatronics came alive and started to gruesomely murdered the intruders as well.

“Well, this escalated quickly.” Ace muttered at the disturbing sight.

A guest suddenly screamed - the area is suddenly filled with water, causing the guests and student participants to hurriedly run to the prepared exit.

The students have enchanted some parts of the aquarium walls where merpeople students could appear in and out of the aquarium water on the wall without spilling the water everywhere. So guests and students participants were often surprised by sudden appearances of the tweels, Azul, animatronics, and staff splashing out of the wall from nowhere. There had been many who claimed to have a heart attack from these encounters.

As they run through the aquarium walls, the guests and students are spooked with various animatronics of mutated sea creatures, merpeople, and even a FREAKING shark animatronic that chases them around persistently. They appear at random times, and their designs would surely put submechanophobia (fear of underwater animatronics) into their very souls.

As they moved on further, they entered Azul’s office and workshop - where gory remains of the missing people experimented into animatronics were seen. Horrid screams and desperate shrieks rang all the way - some were even trapped halfway into the animatronic itself.

Azul had two forms for this haunted house dorm: the first is his regular jazz-lounge entertainer animatronic suit with art deco and aquatic elements. The next form is almost the same except his animatronic parts are more revealed, some parts of his clothes tattered and his tentacles are fully shown. Some guests and students secretly yearned to be trapped inside his “tentacles”.

“Fu, fu, fu… come. Let me squeeze you, let me touch your flesh...” “Yes, please.” A guest squeaked, face flushing red.

The tweels have the same elements as Azul did in their costume, except they’re identical and much more muted than Azul did. Their second forms are their merforms, but with faded mechanical parts and some fresh BLOOD on their teeth and torso...

The final stage and centerpiece of their haunted house is what Azul is most proud of. Thrown again into a twisted version of the animatronic warehouse with aquatic background, the now revealed “animatronic” Azul hypnotized the whole audience with his siren-like singing on a small stage, beckoning several guests into the sweet embrace of his tentacles. Fun fact: most students and guests could not resist the temptation and got ‘squished to death’ instead. Yep, no subcontext here at all.

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THE MISSION:

The students and the guests are separated into different groups, with a glass aquarium wall to divide them.

The guide relayed the charm mission to them: this cruise ship is infamous for having animatronics and automatons to serve and entertain their guests. But many years ago, there was an incident where an animatronic, fed up with being abused by a spoiled heiress on her sweet sixteen birthday, mauled her and nearly drowned her in the aquarium.

Their mission is quite simple: get the charm inside Azul’s office then get out of cruise ship “ALIVE”. They were told that they have three chances to find it inside the office itself, or else they would be “eliminated” and had to start all over again.

But first, they must survive his “show” to get to his office. The students were a bit confused at this part until later.

During the show, they soon learn why they were separated from the guests with a glass wall.

While the guest audience’s part is flooded with a small bit of water, the student's parts were unleashed with a torrential burst of water that they have to run to. Everyone (who is on the student side) by the end of this segment is wet from head to toe.

“Damn you, Azul! Once I get out of here, I’ll fry your tentacles!” Grimm growled, drying his soppy fur using his fire magic.

Octavinelle’s challenge is 90% of Patrick Star’s “WEE WOO WEE WOO” moments. 10% of it is just trying to survive.

The animatronics hissed, jumped, and even grabbed them at random times, which puts the NRC students into a looooot of stress since it attacked them more than once!

Oh, yes, and the mechanical shark will burst out of the “wall” when you least expect it.

“WHAT THE HECK IS WITH THIS HAUNTED HOUSE?! THIS IS VERY UNREASONABLE!” Cried one student before a mechanical shark got him.

But the ones who purchased Octavinelle’s charm walked in smoothly - the animatronics did not attack them directly, the staff stayed out of their way - all is good and right in the world...

Spoiler alert: Did they say that the charm protects them? Of course, it did… EXCEPT AGAINST AZUL AND THE TWEELS.

Yup, Ace learned the hard way when Jade came out of nowhere and tried to drag him inside the aquarium water. The screams that Ace had bellowed does not do justice to how fast he runs.

“YOU SAID THIS CHARM WOULD PROTECT US!”

Epel read the terms and agreement again, “Oh, whoops. It also says here, that the charm doesn’t guarantee to protect you against Azul, Floyd, and Jade. Should have read it thoroughly.”

“I can’t read while I’m getting chased!”

FLOYD DOES MOST OF THE DAMAGES. Physically and emotionally.

He first started by licking Ace’s face. Who knew that eel’s tongue is long.(“Nooooo! I feel so physically violated!” Ace ran to the corner and sobbed.)

Epel had a heart attack when he felt someone smacked his ass. As does Deuce. Then Jack (his tail got roughly grabbed as well).

Jack screamed out all the safe words. Deuce and Epel shouted all kinds of colorful swear words they could ever know, even the foreign ones.

MC’s ass received the same treatment, but they also received an additional playful grope. And then Floyd licked them. MC was screaming and flustered at the same time.

“Shrimp-chan is cute when startled!” He cooed before he splashed back to the water.

There were a LOT of complaints after this event this over, particularly threats of suing Azul for inappropriate sexual harassment. But then the staff asked if they all read the terms and agreements. They all went silent and got on with the next haunted house challenge.

MC’s group tried to murder Floyd by chasing him down underwater, but they realized that getting inside the water would actually disqualify them. They all promised DEATH upon the Octavinelle trio for putting them into this mess and extorting them out of their money.

Now there was one this brutal and competitive student who wanted to get the charms himself. So he kinda lures MC using the infamous “Wounded Gazelle Gambit” trick. In MC’s defense, the act was kinda convincing for a student.

They were not prepared to be chained up and kicked outside to the water, leaving them to drown after they got frisked by that said student for the charms. “In this world, only the mighty wins!”

For a while, MC is left trying to hold their breath while desperately trying to free themselves from the heavy chains. Just as their oxygen almost ran out, Jade managed to see MC struggling underwater. He managed to get Houdini MC out of the water, asking if they’re okay and who actually did this to them. While MC struggled to answer, refusing special treatment, MC decided to get back into the game and get the charms back.

Jade also decided to deal with the violent troublemaker as well, and he just knew what to do with the mechanical shark that he controlled.

To get to the office, the students went to another path, carrying them to a room filled with water and several large pieces of ice. They had to carefully cross through the thin layers of ice amongst the water. There was a mechanical shark circling around, sniffing for its late-night snack.

Already five students fell victim to it.

The ice is slippery, MC’s group is struggling to stay afloat and they do not see MC anywhere.

Epel does spot a student cackling as he carries two familiar charms.

“What have you done to them?!” Ace growled.

“Oh, I guess I made them sleep with the fishes.”

Deuce’s inner delinquent is awakened. He roared and attacked that said student, attempting to avenge poor MC. There was pulling, tugging and pinching.

Just as that competitive student got the upper-hand to Deuce… well, surprise, surprise, guess who’s back, back again.

“HISASHIBURI-DANNA, BITCH. BET YOU’D THOUGHT YOU’VE SEEN THE LAST OF ME.” MC, wet from head to toe, raised their fist, punching that said student and causing that student to release the charms. Deuce quickly grabbed them both before they lost it again, then gave an additional uppercut to that said student. The competitive student staggered backward...

...and then the mechanical shark jumped out of nowhere from the water and dragged the student into their watery doom (kidding: that jerk student got thrown out of the cruise instead. INTO THE TRASH BIN).

The remaining students reached the front of the office, but they could not open the door. Turns out, Azul had enchanted the door so that it can only be opened by using one, particular, embarrassing pose. Oh, and they have to cry out the written words as well.

“The complete flame in our chests shall not be extinguished by anyone! We are… THE PHOENIX!” They all pose like a phoenix. Once it’s done, there isn't any student that collapses out of sheer humiliation.

The Octavinelle Trio secretly recorded it. Either for blackmail or marketing purposes, take your pick.

Once they were inside the office, they were given a riddle and three chances to find it: I am violet, I sing in a limited voice and I am trapped. Find the key inside me.

At first, they thought it was a musical instrument - but there aren’t any musical instruments that colored purple - unless someone dyes it. Also, they cannot find anything remotely similar to a musical instrument. They finally narrowed down to a purple scorebook, a purple-colored radio and… a music box.

They decided to select a music box... and voila! The charm is found! It’s a good thing they got enough to share on their brain cells, eh?

The last challenge after getting the charm is to escape from the cruise itself - but they have to go through Azul to do exactly that! Yup, they have to resist Azul’s hypnotic singing, struggling to escape straight to the exit. Because of Jack’s sensitive ears, he had repeatedly tried to walk straight to Azul, only for Epel to knock him out for a good measure and carried Jack around like he was nothing but a potato sack.

MC nearly succumbed to hypnotism but Grimm managed to snap them out of it by slapping them repeatedly.

Azul sighed, “And here I was thinking I could get a chance to get close to you than Floyd did.”

Yep, they definitely did not waste any chances of getting out of here before Azul starts singing again.

The Octavinelle Dorm staff is considerate enough to give the students wet towels and a warm drink to keep the students from getting cold. Meanwhile, Ace, Epel, and Deuce joined in the protest about the inappropriate misconduct before they unleashed their rage on the nearby prepared dummies after being told that their contract’s terms and conditions had warned them that there will be touching and the staff is not responsible for it.

Perhaps getting wet is a good thing because the fiery presence of Scarabia’s haunted house might be able to keep the cold away...

Part 6

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talkinbouttinygames · 4 years ago

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Guildlings, ”And I knew everything would be fine.“

Heads up, this issue is gonna be a little something different. Although it relates to a game I enjoyed, unlike previous issues this one isn’t meant to be a recommendation - partially due to being an exclusive title for a games subscription. Also, beware major spoilers for the video game Guildlings. On with the show!

When I was younger, and just beginning to get myself acquainted with the idea of creative writing for the first time since English class in first grade, I had an idea for a story. Comparatively, my ability to understand and craft metatextual horseshit was thoroughly trained even back then, and thus the story idea I came up with was this: a group of young adventurers headed by the protagonist all embark on some sort of Epic Quest. They face many battles as they travel, and just as many personal hardships, and after the hardest fight yet three-fourths of the way through the story that sets up the final conflict, the group gets a short period of rest in some cottage or other similar place. The fire is warm, the light is soothing, all of the adventurers much appreciate the time to just enjoy themselves together, and there, in that cottage, the protagonist remarks that in that moment ‘I knew everything would be fine’, and the story ends.

I could tell back then that I wasn’t nearly experienced enough as a writer to even dream of writing out the story at that moment, least of all the fact that its genre was one known for having longrunning polynovel series, so I kept it with me. I still haven’t written it. Even with much more experience, I haven’t even come close to experience with a story of that magnitude. In the intervening time I’ve had many other story ideas, some of which I’ve written, some of which I’ve saved for later (but an earlier later than this story) - maybe I’ll never write it. But it’s stuck with me. I’ve added on details to it in the time since then, and the ideas behind that story are ones that have predicted most of my creative writing output after.

A fortnight ago I finished playing Guidlings. It’s a very enjoyable and interesting game, and I highly recommend it to anyone who can shell out money for (or use up their free trail on) an Apple Arcade subscription. Shame, shame, I know. The game itself is a cellphone-themed JRPG where the protagonist, Coda, after finally getting a used phone (called a tome) from her sister Syb, boots it up only to find it’s auto-started an old Hero software app because, yeah, the milleaux of Guildlings is a magical realist one where Fantasy Cellphone heroes used to be a big era of the past, and their legacy is felt all around the world. The software assigns Coda the role of guildmaster - a figure who guides various guildlings on heroic quests like the player of any JRPG - and encases her in an unbreakable bubble on her bed until she can complete a Major Quest.

As being in an unbreakable bubble is a bit of a showstopper for anything else you have planned, she and her sister devise a ‘major quest’ in order to break the bubble as soon as possible - get Syb to a date with her boyfriend Haas and back home safely. However, the seemingly simple quest quickly turns more and more convoluted as it’s discovered that something’s been tearing out pieces of the world and sending them floating high into the sky, one of which is actually the two sisters’ house with Coda still inside.

Guildlings bills itself as a casual RPG, as combat is based on surviving to the end of a set number of turns without running out of health, or as the game calls it, battery. This by itself is a change from JRPGs I’ve played before, but another interesting design choice that belies Guildlings’ strengths is that experience points aren’t gained from fights, but from how Coda responds in conversation with the various friends she picks up as guildlings as the game goes by. And the characters are well-written enough to support this kind of focus - I love all of them, and getting to know them was a delight.

I played Guildlings in an amount of dedication and excitement that grew exponentially - first casually picking the game up, then actively prioritizing it for playing, and then knocking out every sidequest assigned to me in one big spree, before binge-playing the game as I felt it creep closer to the end. There I had reached a point where one of my favourite guildlings had just gone through character development and gained a new skill, with the entire guild hot on the trail of whatever was cutting up the world. The lift that would take the group further into a deep woods where the worldcutter seemed to be heading had the characters remark that it was likely going to be a while before I had the chance to swap out the party, so I deliberated for a few minutes on which guildlings I wanted to bring along, before embarking on the next stage of the journey... and the credits rolled.

I didn’t know what to think. I sat there, shocked, before opening up my save again, going through the motions, only to get the same result. Frustration welled up - I wanted to know what happened next, damn it! And then I began to laugh.

So that’s what it’s like.

A former friend who I once described my story to told me that if they had been the one reading it they’d have thrown the book onto the floor. I can’t really blame them. After another few minutes of double-checking with a different party, I went to the Guildlings wbesite. Though the website itself is fairly minimalistic, the press kit page describes the game as episodic - and upon checking the social media for the game while writing this, it appears that I actually had played the game up the second episode - so it seems the story will go farther than this.

Except that game development takes time. And I only ever buy entertainment subscriptions for a year. As much as I love the game, I can’t justify the 6 sawbuck pricetag for a year of Apple Arcade if it’s the only game I’ll play. And while I can just cancel and not re-instate the subscription ‘til the next installment’s out, the future is a busy place, and people move on from things. The thing about installment media is that so often, for so many people, the thing that comes along and takes people’s attention away from a serialized work in the in-between time doesn’t have to be better. It only has to be newer.

So maybe all that I’ll ever know of the story of Coda and her friends is everything up ‘til they start to really get into the meat of their journey. But regardless, I have the unshakeable feeling that for them, everything will be fine.

#Video Games #Indie #Talkin' 'Bout Tiny Games #Guildlings #Essay #Writin' on Tiny Games

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de-profundis-ad-astra · 4 years ago

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Fury, Oh Fury - Part 2

Rating || M (Strong language) Characters || Ben Miller, William Miller. Word Count || 5.1k Taglist || (Starting out tagging some mutuals and people I remember from the previous taglist) @firefeatherx @mylifeliterally @mandoplease @phoenixhalliwell @skylyknightly @havenforafrazzledmind @beatriz-silva-00 @veuliee @veuliee2 @oldstuffnewstuff @dindisneydjarin @lilacyennefer @dignityneeded @agirllovespancakes @xjustmenobodyelse @oscarflysaac @jaime1110 @goldenhour-goldenboy @pascalz @briskywalker @herestherealproblem @givemethatgold

Author’s Note || No matter how hard I try to keep this project on a backburner, it keeps kicking and screaming to be told. I had most of part 3 written before I put this fic on hiatus, and I’m hoping to have it written before the end of the year. I just need to get through this week and then schools have two weeks off for the holidays. I’m hoping to carve out some time for writing, then.

District Two’s training academy hides behind the façade of a retired school house.

Upon its decommissioning almost thirty years ago, district leadership descended upon the ramshackle building—and thus began its transformation. Training for the Hunger Games is not condoned by the Capitol. But what they don’t know won’t hurt them. While the exterior of the campus remains dilapidated and unassuming, playing every bit the part of a forgotten relic of a bygone era, its interior has its own story to tell.

Old equipment was cleared out. Tables in the lunchroom replaced with rows of sparring rings. The courtyard converted into a range for archery, javelins, throwing knives, and various ranged weaponry. The sagging, cracked walls refurbished and belied with the latest survival equipment and handheld weapons.

Children who display a prowess for fighting—and more importantly, a potential for victory in the Hunger Games—are selected to attend this academy. Training begins at age eleven, and continues until age seventeen, when one is selected to volunteer at the next reaping. These future tributes are up before dawn and smuggled into the academy before the first shift of Peacekeepers hit the streets, and are not let out until late—most days not until after the sun sets.

But the most notable feature of District Two’s training academy is not its staggering array of swords, daggers, maces, spears, every kind of armament under the sun. It’s not the skill with which District Two’s future tributes can wield these weapons. It’s not the way these future tributes can fire an arrow with devastating accuracy by age fourteen. It’s not the cleanliness of what appears to be a retired, collapsing school. No. It’s none of these things.

The standout feature of the academy is the first thing most people see upon entering the building. In the antechamber of the academy are three words emblazoned on the back wall, above the district’s crest.

Honor. Duty. Victory.

And this is the academy’s most notable feature. Painted and upkept with more care than several entire districts see.

It started out—in the early days of the academy—as an unofficial mantra of those who passed through. As time passed, and the academy produced more and more victors, these attributes were prescribed to every tribute.

Honor. Even being selected train, even if it did not guarantee participation in the Games, was considered the highest form of flattery a child in District Two could receive. Second only to being permitted the option to volunteer.

Duty. Once selected as a future volunteer for the Games, it was a job treated with upmost care and respect.

Victory.

Well. That part seems self-explanatory.

Future tributes from District Two weren’t exempt from training. Not even on reaping day.

Yes, the day was shortened to make sure everyone was present for the event, but the morning was still packed full of running, exercising, sparring, and survival lessons.

Ben had seen plenty of footage from the outer districts of how this day was observed there. It was a quiet, somber affair—the reaped tributes treated already as corpses at a wake. Families and friends shut themselves in, closed their doors and their blinds, held each other, and prayed that, however their loved one died, it was as swift and painless as the Capitol would allow.

But this was the Hunger Games. A hope for such things is, at best, a feeble one.

In District Two, the air buzzes with energy. Something pure and raw and not quite human. Of course, the knowledge of who will be any given year’s volunteers is kept under lock and key, so bets are placed, wagers made, on who they think will go into the arena based on appearances alone. Those who are selected to offer up their lives try to keep from puffing their chests a little too much, those who did not make the cut hide their disappointment behind polite smiles and kind words.

When the tributes are shipped off their families open their doors to friends and neighbors, who offer up gifts and well wishes. Parties are held for every event possible: the tribute parade, interviews, the start of the Games, and then then it simply did not stop until a victor was crowned or, in the worst case, the tributes were killed.

Then, and only then, did families shut their doors and their blinds, the shame of their tributes failing to bring home another victory outweighing their grief for the loss of a child.

At least that was what they said.

Of course, District Two cannot have an eighteen-year-old volunteer step forward at every reaping. To allow that would be to bring down the might of the Capitol if they ever caught on. District Two has worked hard to earn the favor of the president. They’re not about to risk, especially not something as high profile as the Hunger Games.

Some years, a fourteen or fifteen-year-old is selected, some years no one is selected, and the odds dictate who will be traveling to the Capitol that year.

After all, it’s may the odds be ever in your favor, right?

To find out that a district had taken the odds into their own hands, become masters of their own fate. If word of that got out about that… well. It certainly would not be a civil affair.

It was certainly an interesting thing to be said of a nation built upon that exact principle. The Capitol founded itself on this exact principle—built themselves from the ground up because they dared to carve their own path, even if that meant stepping on others. Who was to say they didn’t rig the reapings, anyway?

So for District Two to return the favor would be a horrific slap in the face.

If they ever got caught.

“NICE JOB, MILLER! If you go any slower through the next obstacle course maybe I can retire with my pension by the time you’re through!” Ben’s trainer, Alistair, screams in his face.

Ben keeps silent, his face blank and indifferent, his eyes straight ahead. He’s not looking at Alistair. He’s looking through him. Who knew tuning out Will’s lectures about training would prepare him so well for taking his trainer’s abuse?

“Go through it again!” Alistair snarls, and Ben peels back to the start of the obstacle course, hearing him scream “FASTER! I will stick my foot down your throat ‘til your shit’s on my shoe if you don’t hustle, Miller!”

Ben throws himself onto the rope net. He climbs.

Ben catches the rest of his team when he reaches the top of the rope wall. Alistair has them all doing pushups until he finishes the obstacle course, and Ben throws himself down the other side of the wall, gritting his teeth. He makes it through the course faster this time, and Alistair lets the others up. He trots them to the next course.

After the obstacle courses, it’s close quarters combat training with the squad of sixteens. Ben is convinced they’ve set it up this way just to show them how it feels to lose—to use that motivation to throw themselves into a fight willing to do whatever it takes to win. This is the Hunger Games, after all, it’s all about how ruthless you can be.

Ben looks forward to sparring drills the most. From the moment he set foot in the academy two years ago, he’d proved himself fast, faster than most others, even those much older than him. The trainers had capitalized on that. Now, at age fourteen, he can mop the floor with any squad except the eighteens.

Ben makes friends with another boy in his group named Ramsey. They share a brand of indifferent camaraderie usually reserved for teammates that only get along in the field. Ben’s had to swallow so much pride over the past six months alone following Will’s victory that he’s surprised he hasn’t choked to death. Ramsey’s strength is with a strange sort of sword-spear hybrid the trainers call a yklwa.

In close quarters combat, he’s a whirlwind, the weapon a mere extension of his hand. He takes down whoever steps into his path while hardly breaking a sweat. God helps whoever tries to run from him with the yklwa in his hand.

Ramsey says he’s named his yklwa Carmen. After a recruit in the fifteens he’s hoping to get together with.

Will takes up woodworking after his Games. His home in the Victor’s Village is covered in them. He starts small—bowls and cutting boards at first are rough to the touch. As he hones in on this newfound hobby, his hand grows steady, smooth, until he’s crafting shelves with intricate details carved into the side panels, whittling animals with striking detail that seem to stand guard in their respective rooms. A particularly haunting interpretation of the cougar mutts he faced in the arena adorn the shelf above his fireplace.

It’s not until after he returns from his victory tour that Ben asks Will to train him. It’s over dinner, one of the evenings their father works late. Will brings home stew and a loaf of bread filled with seeds from the market that they eat on the floor before the roaring hearth. They tear off chunks of the bread and dunk them into the rich, savory broth.

“Why?” Will asks simply. He doesn’t look at Ben. He looks straight ahead at the fire, the dancing flames casting dozens of patterns of shadow and light across his face each second.

Ben pulls his legs up towards his chest, Will’s lack of enthusiasm making him regret bringing it up in the first place. “’Cause…” he says, unsure how to say it without provoking his brother to anger. “The headmaster at the academy keeps tellin’ me that if I keep it up, I’ll be able to volunteer in a few years. I want… to be ready.”

“You don’t get enough training there?”

Ben folds his arms on top of his knees and hides his mouth and nose in the crook of his elbow. “If you teach me, I’ll be even better—I’ll be able to win,” he mumbles into his sleeve.

Will’s eyes drift away from the fire, a muscle in his jaw feathering as his mouth tightens into a thin line. He sighs, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Okay,” he says at last.

Ben, sensing the hesitation, backpedals, “You don’t have to.”

“No. I want to.” Will gathers up the remains of their meal and carries them into the kitchen. “If they’re going to ask you to volunteer like you think they will—I want to make sure you’re ready. I want you to come home.”

Ben doesn’t follow him into the kitchen, the weight settling in his chest too heavy to move. He just wants to be as good as Will was, he thinks. He wants to bring pride to District Two like Will did.

When he looks through the doorway into the kitchen, Will stares out the window, at something only he can see.

The next week, Will starts carving weapons.

The sword is merely an extension of Will’s arm when he knocks Ben on his ass for the fifth time and levels the dull point of the blade with his throat.

They’ve cleared out one of the (many) spare rooms of Will’s home and repurposed it as a sparring ring. Ben and his father were extended an offer by Will to live with him in the home. Due to the nature of their father’s work, he elected to remain in their house inside the district. Ben bounces between the two, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t prefer Will’s house to their father’s.

Ben’s tailbone groans as he slides over the carpet away from Will’s sword. He’s fashioned it almost exactly after his weapon from the arena, every detail down to the carvings on the hilt crafted with extreme accuracy from memory.

“You’re stuck in the moment,” Will advises, flipping the sword around and pressing the tip into the ground between and slightly in front of his feet. He leans into it, the wood barely creaking against his weight. “You gotta anticipate, Benny.”

Ben groans, “It’s hard to anticipate when I’m too focused on not getting my hand cut off.”

He’s forgone a weapon during this session, choosing to focus instead on how to disarm an opponent. If he faces another tribute with a weapon, if he can get it out of their hands, he will earn the upper hand and put the odds in his favor.

Maybe it’s a trait that came from the arena, but Will seems so much more in his element here. He’s relaxed, lines no longer weathering his crushingly young face. His movements smooth, steady, his reactions unlike anything Ben had ever seen before.

How can he hope to go up against anything like that in the arena?

“Come on,” Will’s voice softens when he extends his hand. “Let’s try again.”

Ben keeps his focus on his own rhythmic, controlled breathing, sucking air into his lungs and letting it out in a smooth, measured pattern as his feet pound into the concrete of the track. He ignores the soreness in his legs, the tightness in his chest, his thighs begging him to stop and his lungs pleading for more. He ignores the others in his squad running in stride with him, focusing only on keeping the pace. He tunes out the pain, the people around him, and the world around him.

It’s just him and the road.

“Hey, Ben,” Ramsey’s raspy voice huffs next to him.

Ben stays silent, his blue eyes fixed downwards at the patch of the track he would job over five seconds from now. He breathes a slightly deeper breath than before, his concentration irked by Ramsey’s attempt to get his attention.

“Ben!” Ramsey snaps.

Ben closes his eyes, actively putting all of his effort into focusing on the task at hand. He centers his mind on the impact of his shoes against the concrete and his own deep breathing that makes a whooshing sound in his ears. He might fall behind or run out of breath, and if Alistair catches them talking, they’re in for all sorts of hell.

“I’m talking to you, dickhead!” Ramsey hisses, pausing between breaths.

Ben remains nonresponsive. Whatever it was, it could wait until—

A flash of pain sears across Ben’s backside, Ramsey’s hand smacking against his ass as hard as he can manage. Ben fumbles on a step with a yap of shock and hurt. He sucks down a massive amount of air and losing all semblance of pace he had with the others, only to receive a grunt of “Move!” and a shove forward from the boy behind him. Ben sprints ahead to get back into place, his face hot with embarrassment as he clenches his teeth and tries to regulate his breathing.

“Jackass!” he snarls at Ramsay, who cocks a playful grin and breathes through his mouth.

“You know better than to neglect me,” Ramsey pants, keeping up the pace. “I refuse to be ignored.”

“You’ve got a dick punch headed you way for that,” Ben croaks, his ass still aching as he tries to keep running the last half-kilometer.

“Whatever,” Ramsey replies with the vaguest shake of his head. “Anyway, did you do the homework last night?”

Homework is a rather loose term, but they were occasionally tasked with assignments to complete at home. These assignments ranged from practicing an advanced hand to hand combat maneuver, building a snare designed to catch a rabbit, or successfully waterproofing matches. The particular assignment Ramsey referred to had to do with reading about how to identify poisonous plants.

“Kinda late to be asking about that now, don’t you think?” Ben pants.

“That’s why you’re my friend,” Ramsey explains, “When my girlfriend keeps me out too late to do work, you bail me out.”

Ben grunts and cuts a glare at Ramsey that would have burned holes through almost anyone else.

“I know you’re jealous that she gets all my attention, Benny—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Besides, we can’t all be dating some carefree, rich daughter of the mayor that loves to spend all your money.”

Before Ben can respond, a harsh voice calls, “Kick it in! Last hundred meters!”

Ramsey and Ben begin to suck in deep gulps of air along with the rest of their team, holding all of the oxygen they can and sprinting down the last section of track in a final burst of speed. They lean forward and tear down the concrete, ignoring the lightheadedness and the dull throbbing of their leg muscles as they pump their arms and struggle to stay in formation, the soles of their shoes pounding against the surface of the track.

The burning in Ben’s chest and stomach intensifies, the tightness of his body worsening as the end comes into sight.

“You better get across the finish line before I say times up or I’m gonna shove my foot up each and every one of your asses!” the voice roars.

Ben, Ramsey, and the rest of the squad picks up the pace, stomping their feet into the concrete and rushing across the finish line as a group, the last one just barely crossing before the voice cries, “Time’s up!”

The squad trots to a stop, and begins stretching against the wall of the indoor track, lined up single file in order to get out of the way of anyone else using the track.

“So, listen,” Ramsey whispers. “Back on topic: what was the homework from last night?”

“I thought you needed to copy it,” mutters Ben.

“Well, yeah. But I have to know what it is, first!”

“It was just reading,” sighs Ben. “Identifying poisonous versus edible plants.”

“Do you think they’re going to quiz us on it?”

Ben shrugged, indifferent.

“Quiz you on what, Miller?” a harsh voice behind them asked.

Ben and Ramsey cringe and do an about-face, knowing what they would see when they turned around.

Even though Ben had reached an impressive physical height for fourteen, Alistair still holds a few inches over him. He and Ramsey stand tall, staring straight forward as Alistair comes up to them with an acid frown on his face.

“Listen up!” Alistair roars. “Miller here thinks that just because his big brother’s a victor of the Games, that entitles him to a free ride around here! And Ramsey here is so in love with Miller that he can’t keep his hands off his ass! Both of them have disrespected you and me! They had the chance to do this because you aren’t motivating them enough! Therefore, I am going to punish all of you for what one of them has done! The rest of you will run while these two spar in the ring. If Miller wins, He’ll watch the rest of you do a switch run for a half an hour! If Ramsey wins, he’ll watch while the rest of you do a switch run for half an hour! Understand? Go!”

Ben and Ramsey both receive murderous glares from the eight remaining members of their squad as they take off down the track, once more in formation.

“Do I personally have to shin-kick the both of you to get you moving?” Alistair barks.

Ben and Ramsey walk past Alistair, staring at the ground, across the track and into the center field, in which was a platform boxing ring with holographic boundary lines on all four sides. Protective gear and gloves rest against the sides of the platform. Ben and Ramsey unzip the jackets of their track suits, underneath which they both wear plain white tee shirts, and slip a pair of gloves over their hands and headgear over their ears.

“Let’s go!” Alistair barks. “Your fellow cadets are paying for every second you waste!”

“Damn it, Ramsey,” whispers Ben. “I knew this would happen.”

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Ramsey asks incredulously as they walk up the stairs. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Ben snaps as they pass through the holographic boundary lines, traveling to the center of the ring and facing each other. “We’re in this situation because you refuse to be ignored!”

“Well then maybe you shouldn’t ignore me all the time, I might say something you need to hear,” Ramsey responds icily.

“Like what?”

“Like, maybe if you pull that stick out of your ass, you might learn to have some fun, instead of just being an asshole most of the time,” Ramsey shrugs, putting up his fists.

“Well, according to you, Ramsey, everyone’s got a stick up their ass, so maybe you’re the one with the problem,” Ben comes back coolly.

“Oh, for fucks sake…” Ramsey growls, taking a swing at Ben’s head.

Ben bends backwards, avoiding the punch, then steps forward and jabs at Ramsey’s side. He lets out a gasp of shock, then nails Ben in his cheek with another quick swing.

Ben stumbles backwards, a dull stinging igniting in his face, though his headgear had absorbed most of it.

“Do you always have to be so goddamn responsible all the time?!” Ramsey snarls. “You always have to be right and you always have to have everything follow your rules!”

Ramsey steps towards Ben to deliver another blow, only to have Ben sidestep around and slug him in the stomach once again. Ramsey clenches his stomach, looking up as Ben knocks him in the forehead with a hard right hook.

Ramsey flies backwards, falling on his ass, stunned.

“You’re not responsible at all! How do you expect to live up to anything that your family wants for you if all you do is fuck off?!” Ben barks.

Ramsey looks up at Ben, getting to his feet. Ben stands at the ready, his fists up to protect his face. Ramsey swiftly strikes at Ben’s face, a hit that is blocked but still distracts him enough for Ramsey to drive his other fist into his stomach. The wind flies out of Ben’s lungs as Ramsey delivers an uppercut to his bottom jaw, whiplashing his neck and throwing him back.

“I don’t worry about it!” Ramsey spits. “You could stand to do the same. You worry about things that aren’t in your control. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the one preoccupied with my family here!”

Ben grits his teeth through the intense stinging in his jaw and neck, his anger fueling his rise to his feet. He leaps forward and strikes one, two, three times at Ramsey’s head, punching into a block each time but not caring. He steps back just in time to avoid another shot at his face from Ramsey, then back forward to hit the other boy in his upper chest.

“You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about!” Ben yells, punching again and again at Ramsey’s defenses, driving him further back. “You don’t know what I’ve been through and you don’t know what I’ve got to deal with.”

Ramsey grumbles and shoves upward into Ben’s elbows, pushing his arms up and pulling his left fist back. Before Ben can bring up a block again, Ramsey’s fist smashes into Ben’s jaw, twisting his head to the side as Ramsey’s right fist punches into Ben’s shoulder.

The dull throbbing pain in his face and the taste of blood in his mouth make the fall backwards almost unnoticeable, until the reverse polarity field at the boundaries of the ring throw him back into the center. Ben stumbles forward and landed on his knees.

“You’ve got to deal with living up to someone, Ben. I know how it feels,” Ramsey sympathizes, not attacking. “But you can’t torture yourself over things you can’t change and how you think someone would judge what you’re doing. You’re not and you can’t be just like Will!”

Ben glares up at Ramsey, lashing out with his leg and sweeping Ramsey’s legs out from under him. Ramsey falls onto his back with a rough thud and Ben leaps across the floor on all fours as Ramsey tries to get up. He puts Ramsey into a chokehold, compressing his neck in the crook of his arm, causing Ramsey to gasp out in panic.

“Well what choice do I have?!” Ben hisses into Ramsey’s ear.

Ramsey gags, and then taps the floor.

Ben releases his friend and stands to his feet as Ramsey collapses to the floor of the ring, coughing. Ben breathes hard, looking down at him, and extends a hand. Ramsey takes Ben’s hand and he helps him, still breathing raggedly. As Ramsey massages his neck and looks at Ben with a mix of pity and disappointment, Ben noticed Alistair standing at the edge of the ring. He disengages the polarity field and steps into the ring silently, the holographic borders flickering off.

Ramsey doesn’t wait for Alistair to say anything. He gives a sloppy, two-fingered salute, then takes off running down the stairs of the ring to join the rest of the squad.

Ben wishes he could feel more pride at his victory when Alistair turns to him.

“Best get going, son,” says Alistair, quieter than usual. “Reaping is in a few hours.”

Ben just nods numbly and exits the ring.

The last time Ben found himself standing in a roped off section of the square was eleven months ago, holding his breath as Will was declared the victor of the Fifty-fourth Hunger Games.

Now he stands in a clump of other fourteen-year-old boys, the space tight and claustrophobic as they await the start of the reaping. It’s one thing for a district as large as Two to cram as many people as they can in the square; it’s another to do so in the height of summer. Sweat rolls down the back of Ben’s neck and into the collar of his button-up shirt.

He’s been out here longer than many of the district’s children. He arrived early with Will, who has earned a spot on the stage with Two’s other victors. His chair is front and center, almost directly between the two massive glass balls containing thousands of paper slips and to the right of the mayor’s chair.

Ben’s name is in there three times this year. The thought is a small comfort, even though the odds are entirely in his favor. His heart throws itself around his ribcage, his throat tight. He catches Will’s eye over the heads of the teenagers standing closer to the front of the crowd, and he gives Ben a short, assuring nod.

They’re not going to pick you, Will had said while getting ready that morning when he noticed the way Ben’s hands trembled for a grip on his comb. And if they do, someone will step up.

He’s right. District Two’s favored boy to volunteer this year is an eighteen-year-old named Bromius who doesn’t know how to back down from a fight.

Though he stands directly in the middle of the crowd, Ben is sure he can feel the prying eyes of spectators around him. Him, the younger brother of a victor. It’s only natural for them to wonder if he will follow in the footsteps of Will and volunteer for the Games. He’s sure more than a few wagers are being placed in his favor today.

To Ben’s right, the crowd shifts, and Ramsey shoulders his way to Ben’s side. “Hey,” he says. “How are you doing?”

Ben reigns in the urge to grimace when another bead of sweat drips down his back. “As okay as I can be.” No matter being though this twice before, no matter how much he expects having to step forward and step on that stage one day, he can’t seem to quiet the anxiety that roils in his stomach. He still watches Will, but his attention has been drawn by another victor seated behind him, a pretty girl who won seven years ago, if Ben remembers correctly. They’re both smiling. Ben’s just glad Will can still smile. A handful of Two’s victors have come home, but he’d never seen them smile again.

Ramsey claps him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Besides, you’re not going to volunteer for another two years at least. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked you to go in when you turn sixteen.”

Why is everyone so insistent that he’s going to be fine?

The thought is chased from Ben’s mind when feedback from the microphone on stage squeals through the speakers. The mayor waits for the sound to ebb before launching into the same speech he gives every year. By now, he has it memorized. Some of the boys around him quote the speech along with the mayor with dramatic voices and giggle to themselves.

As always, they are reminded of the origin of the Hunger Games, reminded of—no matter how much they may be in favor with the Capitol—they will ultimately be at their mercy by sending in their children to their prospective deaths. The only difference this year is that Will’s name has been added when the mayor reads off the list of past victors. He feels a small swell of pride at that.

District Two’s escort is introduced. Terra Evervale, a woman who’s allowed the fact that she has worked with so many victors get to her head, makes a brief statement about how much she’s looking forward to introducing the district’s next victor to the spoils of the Capitol.

Ben keeps his eyes locked on Will, who has made sparing eye contact with him through the procession. With so many cameras on him, he needs to appear alert and engaged. Now he watches Terra as she announces that this year, they will begin with the boys, and crosses the stage to one of the glass balls.

She plunges her hand deep into the ball, rummages around for a few seconds to build the anticipation. By the time she removes the single slip of paper, almost everyone in the square is holding their breath. Ben feels his fists clench, his vision blurring around the edges.

Will watches, his expression cool as Terra crosses back to the microphone. When she breaks the seal and pulls the edges of the paper apart, he has the perfect vantage point to read the name before she announces who the male tribute will be.

Will’s blue eyes go wide, his mouth falling open slightly; Ben can see his breath catch. He finds Ben in the crowd, as if he could call out a warning.

Ben reads Will’s expression, and knows with terrifying clarity whose name is on the paper.

“Benjamin Miller!”

#triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #william miller #william ironhead miller #ben miller #benny miller #reposting bc it didn't post to the tag #and then again bc i forgot to add the appropriate italics #anyway #pls reblog if you enjoyed it #bc i require copious amounts of validation to keep working on these fics

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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Volume 8 Trailer: Initial Reactions

This is incredibly short for a trailer. Aren’t RWBY’s usually about a minute and a half long? Will we be getting another? I literally only caught the last five minutes of the live stream so idk.

Ruby is speaking very confidently about Salem’s plans. “Atlas is only Salem’s current target. She’s not hiding anymore,” etc. I mean yeah, this all seems obvious and easy deductions, but it’s just weird to give Ruby - who only found out about Salem a few months ago and spoke to her for one hot second (that we know of) - a more concrete sense of her plans than we, the omniscient audience, have gotten.

That throne is wonderfully creepy (as is the music here). Where is this? Is Salem perhaps inside her whale? I’m digging the aesthetic.

Actually it��s worth acknowledging that I’m happy with the tone overall. It still remains to be seen how this fits in with our clips, but at least the trailer is acknowledging the stakes here.

“We need to warn them!” I get that now that Salem is actively attacking people it’s necessary to prepare others for that, immortality aside, but I still hate that we’ve jumped straight to ‘Telling the world is an unambiguously good thing!’ when literally everything we’ve seen in seven seasons has told us otherwise.

Speaking of immortality is that like... a conflict at all? Because Volume 7 didn’t grapple with it and neither does this trailer. I think her being immortal is a pretty big factor in the ‘Do we stay or leave?’ debate/any plans they make to defend against her, but thus far Ruby and co. don’t seem to think so.

We get a shot where the group is pulling out their weapons but Penny stands there looking confused. Another encounter with the Ace Ops? They’ve since recovered from their fight.

We also see them standing over what is presumably Clover’s corpse. I’m gearing up for the fandom to crucify them if they don’t demonstrate an “appropriate” amount of grief. Something something see they’re inhuman and Team RWBY was right to betray them.

I’m here for a Penny and Ruby hug though. Their relationship took such a dive last volume I’ll now accept any meaningful connection I can get.

Okay, onto one of my biggest issues: so much of this trailer is repetition. We’ve seen the whale grimm arrive. We’ve seen the group go back to Pietro’s shop (and we know that either there’s nothing there to fight or they easily defeat what is there because the bike excitement comes next). We know the group is focused on helping Mantle whereas Ironwood is focused on helping the world. We’ve seen them get bikes. We’ve seen Penny’s eyes glow with the Maiden powers. None of this is new and that’s super disappointing. 99% of this is just rehashing what we knew from the end of Volume 7 or from the previous promo clips. With the exception of:

Salem has the lamp. So she either took it from Cinder, Cinder rejoined her, or Neo betrayed her and took the lamp to Salem. She also doesn’t know how to use it and is presumably going to hunt down Ozpin(Oscar) with that bloodhound grimm. Depending on if Salem wants anything other than the lamp right now that’s an easy way to help protect Mantle: the group leaves and Salem will presumably follow. It’s a version of what I’ve said before regarding “If you care about the people and know that the evil witch only wants your magic relics/you, how about you actually leave via Atlas and draw her away?”

Also, Ozpin is no longer “the one who can show me how.” Team RWBY + Qrow and Maria all know how to summon Jinn too. Potentially JNR as well if they were told that during the explanation scene we never saw. They’d better hope Salem doesn’t find out that at a minimum six other people know how to activate this relic, including a presumably defenseless old woman. Funny how taking information by force puts you in more danger, your friends in more danger, and makes the enemy’s job that much easier.

Salem also says that she has “questions” for Jinn, plural. That’s probably the most interesting development to me. What does she not know that she needs magic to gain? Will having only one question left hurt her plans? (Ugh, please don’t make this into a ‘It’s a good thing Ruby used a question to uncover all Ozpin’s trauma because that ended up saving the world!’ situation).

There’s nothing about Qrow or Ozpin’s return. Yes, I remain salty that arguably the most important character next to Ruby was dropped for the majority of two volumes and then doesn’t make an appearance in the trailer.

All in all I’m feeling really... underwhelmed? As said, we’ve learned almost nothing new from this. With the exception of Salem there’s nothing in this trailer that makes me eager to understand what a clip means, or anxious to see the outcome of something. It’s just stuff we already know about (Penny’s eyes), generic stuff that’s meaningless without context (the Ace Ops standing at attention), or stuff that obviously has no weight (someone - potentially Yang - is chased by a dragon-y grimm. Will they survive??? Of course they’ll survive). If it weren’t for Salem holding the relic and revealing her need for it beyond it being one of the four pieces for summoning the gods, I’d say this trailer didn’t do any of the work a trailer is supposed to. So I guess kudos for giving us one thing to think about/look forward to? Everything else though is pretty tame for the volume where our heroes finally square off against their antagonist. This setup would be the end-game for most series (worrisome considering we know RT wants to continue much farther...) and the trailer is mostly showing repetition and grunt grimm. Can’t say it got my blood pumping.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 spoilers #mymetas #rwde #long post

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alyssawritesssfics · 4 years ago

Text

Hounded [5] 5. Twilight’s Last Gleaming

Pairings: Bellamy x OC // Kane x daughter!OC

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: violence, series spoilers

Summary: When a pod from the Ark falls out of the sky, Bellamy’s motives finally come to light.

Author’s Note: Hii, I’m back with the fifth chapter/episode. I really hope you all enjoy it! Please remember to note and reblog! It really helps me see interest and therefore update the story more often. Thank you!

Tag List: @topazy (DM or send an ask to be added)

previous chapter // series masterlist

After Monty’s attempt at contacting the Ark had fried all of our wristbands, I found myself sat by the fire, staring into it blankly.

The first person I thought about was my mother. If she didn’t know before the dropship descended, she had to have found out soon after. She was probably second in charge, keeping an eye on our vitals. Did she think I was dead? Or, was she still holding onto hope? My mind then drifted to my father, whom I was sure would have accepted that I was gone for good. Finally, I thought of my grandmother, who probably still had no idea what was going on. It wasn’t like she visited me often, usually too busy tending to the Last Tree.

As I thought of my family, slowly beginning to accept that I’d never see them again, Fox’s voice grabbed my attention.

“Guys, look!”

I turned my head, following her finger pointed up at the Sky.

“A shooting star?” Another delinquent asked.

Suddenly, the “star” began to light up, a ring of fire surrounding it. “That’s not a shooting star.” I mumbled, standing up. “It’s a pod.”

Octavia quickly came to my side. “Do you think it’s from the Ark?”

“Bellamy, get out here!” Fox called out.

Bellamy soon emerged from his tent, shirtless with Roma and Bree following behind him. “What’s going on?”

“They’re coming to help us,” Jones smiled. “Now we can finally kick some grounder ass!”

“Please tell me they brought down shampoo,” Roma quipped.

I rolled my eyes, moving closer to Bellamy with Octavia following close behind. “What’s the plan?”

Bellamy looked around before letting out a sigh. He led a few of us towards our main tent. It wasn’t long before the few of us had put together a plan.

“If it cleared the ridge it’s probably near the lake,”

“We’re ready to go,” Octavia said.

“No one’s going anywhere. Not while it’s dark, it isn’t safe.” Bellamy replied. “We’ll head out at first light.”

Mumbles ensued as most of the group piled out of the tent. I watched as Octavia stepped in front of Bellamy, stopping him from leaving. “What if the Grounders get to it first? Bell, we should go now.”

“Octavia’s right,” I said. “We can’t afford to lose any supplies they might’ve sent down here in that pod.”

Bellamy’s face tensed. “I said we wait until sunrise.”

As he pushed past Octavia and exited the tent, the two of us exchanged a worried glance. “He’s hiding something.” I finally said.

Octavia nodded. “He’s definitely hiding something.”

…

I spent the majority of the rest of the night waiting for Clarke and Finn to return, them having left camp not long after the wristbands had fried. Finally I noticed them heading through the newly built gate, looking around frantically.

Standing from the log I was sat on, I made my way across camp, reaching them just as Fox had.

“Looks like everyone’s up,” Finn remarked.

“Did you guys see it?” Fox asked. “It had to have been from the Ark, right?”

Clarke nodded. “Grab your stuff. We’re gonna go find out.”

I shook my head. “Bellamy said we have to wait until sunrise.”

“Where is he?” Clarke asked, as I pointed to his tent.

Clarke made her way towards Bellamy’s tent, Finn and I following close behind. She pushed the flaps of the tent to the side, being the first of the three of us to step inside.

“Ever hear of knocking, Bitch?” I heard Roma speak from inside the tent. When she noticed Finn and I enter behind Clarke, her face tensed even further. “Oh, great, it’s a free show. Anyone else want to take a look?” She was sitting in the cot with Bree, both of them attempting to cover themselves with a makeshift blanket. Bree was quiet, slowly sinking further under the blanket.

“Where the hell is Bellamy?” Clarke asked.

“He took off a while ago.”

Finn looked around the tent. “His gear is gone.”

Clarke shook her head. “He told everyone to stay here. Whatever is in that pod, he wants it. We’ve got to get there before he does.”

Clarke and Finn quickly exited the tent, causing Roma to roll her eyes. “You’re welcome!”

I smiled nervously, slowly backing out of the tent. “Sorry about that.”

After exiting the tent, I jogged to catch up with Clarke and Finn, who were almost at the gate already.

“I should’ve known he’d go for that radio,” Clarke mumbled.

Finn raised an eyebrow. “How were you supposed to know something like that?”

“He’s spent every single minute since we landed making sure no one on the Ark finds out that we’re alive,” Clarke responded. “Of course he’d make a run for that pod before anyone else got a chance.”

“You can’t always predict what people are going to do,” I spoke up.

Clarke shook her head. “That’s exactly what I have to do to keep us all safe. I screwed up, let myself get distracted.” He glanced at Finn for a moment, before looking ahead once more. “I won’t let that happen again.”

…

We had been searching for hours, with no luck, before the sun finally came up. Clarke and I separated from Finn, hoping to have better luck in locating the pod in groups. As Clarke and I stepped into a clearing, we saw the pod sitting next to a tree. Clarke wasted no time, rushing over to it and yanking the door open.

I found myself behind her, staring into the pod over her shoulder. Inside was a girl, not much older than us, her hand placed on top of the wound on her forehead.

“Oh, my god.” Clarke breathed.

The girl looked at us, her eyes wide. “I made it?”

Clarke and I nodded in unison.

The girl struggled to pull herself free from the pod, Clarke and I helping her regain her balance. Finally, she stepped away from the pod, slowly walking through the leaves on the ground. A smile appeared on her face as she began spinning around.

“I dreamed it would smell like this,” The girl said, noticing the drops of water falling upon her bare arm. “Is this rain?”

Clarke smiled. “Welcome home.”

“Raven?”

Clarke and I spun around, spotting Finn who had just stepped through the bushes. His eyes were wide, his face as pale as a ghost.

“Finn!” Raven called out, rushing over to him. The two kissed for a moment, before Raven pulled back. “I knew you couldn’t be dead.”

“You’re bleeding.” Finn spoke, running his thumb along the cut.

Raven winced, though maintained her smile. “Right now, I don’t care.”

“How did you get here?”

“You know the big scrap hold? On K deck?”

Finn nodded, eying the pod behind Clarke and I. “You built that from scrap?”

“I kind of rebuilt it,” Raven spoke, earning a laugh from Finn. “What, like it’s hard? It just needed a couple of parts and some love.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’d do more for you, and worse. Just like you would for me.” As the words left Raven’s lips, her legs gave out, Finn quickly grabbing her arms.

“Come sit,” Finn spoke, leading her to a rock. He removed his jacket and draped it around her, before eying her cut one last time. “Let me get you something for that.”

Finn rushed over to Clarke, who quietly handed him an ice pack. He frowned, noticing her eyes were scanning every inch of the forest, except for where he stood. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

Clarke looked at him, her eyes shifting to me for just a moment before landing back on the ground. “Let’s not talk about this.”

Finn looked over at me before nodding, rushing back over to Raven.

I watched Clarke’s expression change over and over again. “Are you okay?” I finally asked.

Clarke didn’t speak, simply nodding before heading over to Finn and Raven. “She needs to put pressure on her wound.”

“This is Clarke,” Finn spoke. “And this is Athena.”

Raven’s eyes lit up. “Clarke Griffin?”

Clarke nodded.

“This was all because of your mom.”

“My mom?”

Raven nodded. “This was all her plan. We were trying to come down here together. If we waited-” She trailed off, her face growing pale. “Oh, my God. We couldn't wait because the council was voting whether to kill three hundred people to save air.”

“When?” I asked.

“Today. We have to tell them you guys are alive!” Raven stood from the rock, rushing over to her pod. “The radio's gone. It must've gotten loose during reentry. I should've strapped it to the A-strut. Stupid!” Raven hit the pod with her fist.

“No it didn’t,” I mumbled.

“This is all my fault,” Clarke shook her head. “Some else got here before us. We have to find him.”

…

While Finn and Raven went off on their own, Clarke and I remained together, searching the woods for Bellamy. He finally appeared a little ways ahead of us, just casually walking along. Clarke and I exchanged glances before running up to him.

“Bellamy!” Clarke snarled. “Where is it?”

“Hey, Princess, you taking a walk in the woods?” He asked, smiling.

Clarke stopped in front of him, her face red. “They’re getting ready to kill three hundred people up there to save oxygen, and I can promise you it won’t be council members. It’ll be working people.” She poked his chest. “Your people.”

Suddenly, Finn came out of nowhere, shoving Bellamy hard. “Where the hell is the radio, Bellamy?”

Bellamy shoved Finn back. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bellamy Blake?” Raven asked, her soft expression turning to a smirk. “They’re looking for you everywhere.”

“Shut up.”

“What is she talking about?” I asked.

“He shot Chancellor Jaha.”

Our eyes all shot to Bellamy, who kept his eyes planted on the ground. “That’s why you took the wristbands. You needed everyone to think the ground wasn’t survivable.” Clarke choked out.

Finn shook his head. “All of that ‘whatever the hell we want’? You just care about saving your own skin.”

Bellamy didn’t respond, instead turning and beginning to walk away. Raven shook her head, following close behind him. “Hey, Shooter! Where’s my radio?” She jumped in front of him, causing Bellamy to stop.

“Get out of my way.”

“Where is it?” Raven pressed once again.

Bellamy shook his head. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

“Really? Well, I’m right here.” Raven stepped closer before Bellamy grabbed her suit, shoving her up against a tree. In a matter of seconds Raven had pulled out a knife, pointing it at Bellamy’s throat. “Where’s my radio?”

“Stop it!” Clarke yelled, getting between them.

Bellamy let go of Raven, turning away from the group. When he finally turned back around, his expression had softened. “Jaha deserved to die. You all know that.”

“Yeah, he isn’t my favourite person either, but he isn’t dead.”

We all looked back at Raven.

“What?” Bellamy choked out.

Raven sighed. “You’re a lousy shot.”

I turned to look back at Bellamy, quickly approaching him. “Bellamy, don’t you see what this means?” I asked, my voice quiet. “You’re not a murderer.”

Clarke stood next to me. “You always did what you had to do to protect your sister. That’s who you are, and you can do it again by protecting three hundred of your people.”

Bellamy looked back at me, his eyes wet. I locked my eyes onto his, a frown forming across my face. “Where’s the radio?”

Bellamy stared back before finally, he shook his head. “It’s too late.”

…

After Bellamy had finally told us where he tossed the radio, Clarke and I returned to camp to gather a search party. The sun was slowly disappearing behind the hills in the distance before finally Jones pulled something out of the lake.

“Guys, I found it!”

Everyone rushed over, Raven quickly grabbing it from his hands.

“Can you fix it?” Clarke asked.

Raven examined it for a moment. “Maybe, but it’ll take at least half the day to dry out the components to see what’s broken.”

“Like I said, it’s too late.” Bellamy spoke from behind us.

I could feel my fists ball up and I spun around, marching through the shallow water to meet Bellamy on dry land. “Do you have any idea what you did? Do you even care?” I asked, my jaw clenched.

“You asked me to help. I helped.”

“Three hundred people are going to die today, because of you!” Clarke snapped from behind me.

I shook my head. “How can you just not care?”

Bellamy avoided my eyes, staring directly down at his feet. I knew he wanted to speak. To defend himself. Maybe he had finally realized he just couldn’t.

“Wait,” Raven spoke up. “We don’t have to talk to the Ark. We just have to let them know we’re down here, right?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, but how do we do that with no radio?”

Raven smiled, looking around. “I think I have an idea.”

…

Raven took Clarke, Finn and a few others back to her pod in hopes of savaging parts. Her plan was to send flares high enough using rocket fuel that the Ark would see them. By dark we had managed to set them up, everyone gathering around, anxiously waiting for the show to start.

“You guys ready?” Raven asked, cheers erupting through the crowd. “Alright then, light ‘em up!”

In just a few moments, flares began shooting off into the sky, lighting up the entire camp. Everyone just stared on, in awe of the sight. I thought back on the books I’d read on the Ark as a kid, picturing the images of Fireworks. This wasn’t quite like them, but they were probably the closest we’d ever get.

My eyes left the sky for a moment, landing on Bellamy, who stood off to the side. His arms were folded across his chest, a frown painted neatly across his face. As much as I wanted to ignore him, I couldn’t help but join him.

“Not enjoying the show?” I asked, slipping beside him. “I mean, why would you? They come down here, you’re kind of screwed.”

Bellamy’s face tensed.

I thought back to our time in the Cave. What he’d said to me that night. “What’s done is done, Bellamy. You can’t change it now, so learn from it, do better next time.”

Bellamy looked at me from the corner of his eye, his expression turning into a small smirk as he looked down at the ground, them back up at me. “Seriously?”

“What?” I asked, smiling. “You were right then and I’m right now. You did what you had to do to protect your sister, but if you want any chance of being forgiven when they get down here, you need to do better. You need to show them that you’re worthy of forgiveness, just like the rest of us.”

Bellamy shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Athena.”

I let out a sigh, turning my attention back to the sky. “Who says it can’t be?”

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake x oc

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i-stan-nct-and-satan · 5 years ago

Text

Not Broken (Jaehyun Mafia AU)

Not Broken Masterlist

Jaehyun X Reader

Y/N is a burlesque dancer living in Seoul. Jaehyun is one of the most powerful mafia men in Seoul. How will Y/N survive when Jaehyun suspects that she is involved with a rival gang?

Reasons to read this story: Ten's a cross-dressing madam so..... yeah read it ya freaks.

Trigger warning for this chapter: mentions of non-consensual touching.

Bold means it’s being said in English

A/N: This story will be released in several parts and each part released will have its own trigger warnings. It’s a slow burn story but there will be smut in later parts. Jaehyun won’t actually be introduced in the first two parts, but I hope you’ll read anyway. This story is actually inspired by my year preforming as a burlesque dancer in Seoul. The burlesque group was actually an inclusive group that frequently featured drag kings and queens.

"Kakao!"

I opened my eyes and groaned as I looked at my phone.

8:37pm. I'm late.

"Fuck"

Kakao alert from Jungwoo: "Dude, where are you? The Madam is gonna be here soon. If you're late again, she's not gonna let you preform."

I grabbed at my aching head as I read the message.

Why does it hurt so bad?

I looked over at my nightstand and saw the answer in the form of several empty bottles of soju. I could barely remember anything from the previous night, but from the looks of my bedroom, I seemed to have been by myself. I stood up to grab some water, ignoring the message from Jungwoo. Apparently he must have seen that I read it since my phone soon started vibrating and spewing out kakao talk notifications at an irritatingly fast pace.

After chugging a full bottle of water in an attempt to sooth my throbbing head, I walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth and washed my face. In the mirror I saw that I hadn’t even attempted to wash the eyeliner from the yesterday off before passing out. What was originally a subtle thin black line had now smudged over the entirety of my lid and the concave of my under eyes. I looked trashed, no, dead was a better way to put it.

I roughly rubbed the smudged mess off my face with a washcloth. I didn’t bother applying a new face of makeup since I knew that I'd be expected to put it on at the venue anyway.

I quickly gathered up my make up supplies and shoved them into my backpack. I grabbed the tote bag containing my costume along with my phone and left the trashed one-bedroom apartment, not bothering to change out of the black sweatshirt and torn jeans I woke up in. It wasn't unusual for me to fall asleep or "pass out" in my day clothes.

It wasn't that I didn't have any pajamas to change into, it was more an issue of being too drunk to care. Right now, my reasons for not putting on a new outfit was that I was too hungover not to mention the fact that I was very late.

I walked down the halls of my building, choosing to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Although anyone who stepped foot into my room would believe that I must have lived in the ghetto, my building was actually quite nice. I just happened to be a very messy person and it must show in how I present myself because my neighbors often go out of their ways to avoid me. The only person in the building who I'm actually close with is the doorman.

"Goodmorning Hyuck." I say as I grabbed my headphones out of my bag.

"Hello, Miss Y/LN." He greeted me as he held the door open for an elderly couple as they exited the building.

I chuckled at his formality. As the elderly couple walked out of sight, I turned to the short male.

"How do you do?" I said mockingly to the uniformed doorman.

Donghyuck looked up at me and rolled his eyes.

"You know that I have to keep up appearances when I'm on the clock,” He scowled.

“Hey, do you have a show tonight?" He asked.

"How can you tell?"

"Well you said good morning to me and it's nighttime so... I just assumed that means you're planning on staying up."

I looked at him sheepishly. Donghyuck knew about my nighttime activities, yet he still treated me with the same respect he gave to all the other people living in the building. That didn't mean that he didn't use casual language with me every chance he got. His reasoning being that we've drank together so many times that it shouldn't matter that he's a few years younger than me. I don't mind, in fact, I think it would be weird if he spoke politely to me since I've never been polite to him a day in my life.

My eyes buldged slightly due to the sudden realization that I only had an hour to get from Hongdae to Ittaewon.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later DongFuck!" I yelled as I ran out the door.

"HEY!!!" He screamed back at me.

I ran to Hongik exit 9 and into the sea of people trying to get to where they needed to begin their own nighttime activities. As I stepped onto the subway, I noticed that some people were already drunk. I spotted some drunk ajushi's yelling at this blonde girl asking if she's a Russian prostitute. I roll my eyes and walked over to her.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up at me and nodded. The old men started directing their comments at me instead of her.

It's better that they act this way towards me. They're comments will be justified if they talk about me.

The girl snuck away without giving me another glance and I started to feel relieved until a hand landed on my shoulder. I kept still but my eyes glanced at the screen displaying the stops.

Only 3 more stops. I just have to cope for 3 more stops.

The hand moved toward my chest and I continued to stay still.

If I move away, they'll just keep doing it to the other girl.

The hand felt slimy, coated with a thick layer of sweat. It was disgusting. I tried to brush the hand away to prevent it from sliding further south, but my attempts were futile as the man continued to touch me.

It wasn't until the old man caressing me grabbed at my necklace that I turned to face him and pulled my fist back.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I ran out of the subway gripping on to my broken necklace and bags. When I had punched the stranger he fell back taking my necklace with him, breaking its clasp in the process. The only thought in my mind was to get as far away from the subway exit as possible. It was my fourth year living in Seoul and I knew how things worked. The man could have had his dick out, but there was no way that the police would believe a foreigner like me over him.

After arriving at the venue, I greeted the girls at the door and quickly found the bathroom to collect myself. My hair was sticking out of my ponytail and slicked to my face with sweat. I checked to make sure I still had all my things, most importantly, the necklace.

I looked down at the green emerald pendant. It was about a 3 centimeters long circle wrapped in a gold-plated setting, strung on a matching gold chain. Everything about the necklace was beautiful except for the broken clasp.

"Oh my god Y/N! You are so late."

I jumped at the sudden voice.

"Sorry Snoopy."

It was Jungwoo. I hadn't noticed him come in despite the loud clacking of his heels.

"I guess it's no big deal. To be honest, I'm pretty sure that the Madam hasn't even noticed that you weren't here earlier. She was just going crazy backstage looking for her wig. You should have seen her. It was so funny."

Jungwoo started speaking in a high pitched voice trying to imitate the madam.

"Where's my hair? Where's my hair?"

We both started cracking up at the impersonation.

"Come one!" Jungwoo said as he grabbed my hand, still laughing.

"You're the only one who’s not even close to being done with makeup," He continued.

As he walked me out of the bathroom and towards the dressing rooms, I examined his costume. He wore a long burgundy red velvet dress with long white sleeves. On his head, he adorned a long brunette wig. It seemed to be a very cheap wig as it was already starting to knot into a rat’s nest. Overall, it was a very modest outfit compared to the blue latex mini skirt with neon green tassel pasties he wore during our last show.

"What's your act tonight?" I asked.

"Wonho and I are doing a titanic theme tonight. You would know this if you actually came to our last practice."

Jungwoo was one of the burlesque queens. There were many in the group as they made up almost half of the dancers. Since Ittaewon was filled with foreigners, the queer scene was thriving here and it really showed in our burlesque group.

"What happened to your necklace?"

"Oh I broke it on the subway." I replied hoping Jungwoo wouldn't inquire further.

Luckily for me, he didn't.

"Want me to fix it for you?" He said as he examined the jewelry in my hands.

"It's just a broken clasp right?"

"You would fix it for me?" I asked as I hand the necklace to the feminine male.

"Yeah of course! My costume jewelry breaks all the time. Damn the heavy things. This should only take a few minutes. I'll go get my tools."

Without another word, Jungwoo left, allowing me to get started on my makeup. Tonight I was supposed to be the final act, as per usual, which meant that my costume was the most extravagant.

For my makeup, I applied gold lipstick along with gold eyeliner, and a glitter highlight. The theme of my act was, you guessed it, gold. Even my costume was brimming with gold detailing. All fake of course, but it was still dripping with elegance. I quickly wrapped my hair into a hairnet and put on my white-blonde wig.

I had been preforming for around two years now. I found the group through a friend who had ended up leaving Korea. I quickly proved myself to be one of the best dancers in the group although some people liked to focus on my lack of attendance even though my acts often recieved the most praise out of every show.

It's not that I thought I was better than my fellow dancers. It's just that I happened to do quite well for myself as a dancer. Through dancing alone, I've been able to pay for my apartment in Hongdae, pay off my student loans, and my other debts, all while being able to afford a few luxuries here and there.

I began to take off my day clothes before I was interrupted when a familiar face entered the dressing room.

The Madam.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" I sneered at the short figure that approached me.

"Haven't you ever heard of coming on time?" The figure snarkily replied, taking a drag from her cigarette.

The Madam, or Madam Ten, as some of us called her, was the leader of the group. She directed the show, organized it, taught choreography, and had final call on every detail of our preformances.

The thing about The Madam, was that she wasn't exactly a madam. Like Jungwoo, she was a drag queen, but she committed to the role more. None of us had ever actually seen the older out of drag. Some assumed that she may have identified as a woman, since anytime anyone said differently, she would scoff and often would reply with the same two answers.

When it was a woman addressing her as a man, she would say something like,

"Darling. When you refer to me as a he, you are merely pointing out the sad truth that even a man can easily be prettier than you."

When it was a man, she would walk up to the poor soul and say something vulgar, such as "You won't be calling me a he when you are screaming my name later."

Madam Ten was roughly in her 50's yet she was still dripping in womanly charm and beauty. Her face was wrinkled from all the years of smoking cigarettes, but she had more knowledge about seduction than all of us, so her age rarely mattered to the men around her.

She wore her hair in a sort pixie cut. Her red dress draped to the floor. She had an array of colorful scarves wrapped around her neck and shoulders. Heavy jewelry adorned her fingers and neck. Her ruby lips wrapped around the long black straw that was encasing the end of her cigarette.

"On a normal night, I would have given your act to Eunwoo as punishment for your... tardiness."

I raised my eyebrows.

"But...?" I questioned anticipating her to continue her explanation.

"But despite Eunwoo's ability being equal to yours, in my opinion even better..." She continued, snarkily mumbling the last part.

"He's lacking your certain assets, which I believe our special audience members would prefer tonight." She cooed, not even trying to be subtle about staring at my undressed body.

"Special audience members?" I asked as I turned away to find my costume.

"It seems as though our venue has been...reserved for a private party this evening."

"The whole venue?" I gasped.

"Yes. And it seems as though I've had to make some last-minute changes to the show tonight in order to appeal to our audience's specific tastes."

"What kinds of changes?" I inquired, continuing to dress myself.

"Sadly, tonight is going to focus on the more traditionally feminine tonight. It's such a shame that men nowadays are still so afraid to explore their sexualities." She rested her hand on her face as if she were genuinely contemplating something.

I started zipping up my costume before I realized what she was implying.

"Jungwoo's not going to be allowed to perform tonight is he?"

Madam Ten walked up behind me and pulled the zipper of my costume up the remainder of my back.

"We are all expected to make sacrifices sometimes."

This wasn't fair. Jungwoo worked harder than me at everything he did. It wasn't fair that I should get to preform while he's expected to roll over just because some last-minute guests didn’t want to see a drag queen preform burlesque.

And what about the Madam? Madam Ten would never change the line-up for a show just to appease the preferences of some rich snooty straight assholes. In the past, whenever an audience member complained about the less conventional dancers, it would end with her having the source of the complaint swiftly thrown to the curb. The Madam often referred to these men as lacking taste or ability to appreciate the real artistry of burlesque, but tonight she's acting as if her submission isn't even something to be questioned.

Whoever could afford to rent out the whole venue must have a lot of both money and power to cause the Madam to act this way. Who could these guests be in order for the Madam to choose to compromise the show's integrity?

"I should go talk to Jungwoo." I commented as I turned to leave the room, but Madam Ten stops me, grabbing my hand.

"I already sent him home." She explained reaching into the pocket of her dress.

"But he did leave me this to give to you."

She turned me so that I was facing the full length mirror and wraps my newly fixed necklace around my neck. I was unable to examine the fixed clasp, but it's ability to stay on my neck reassured me of it's functionality.

Madam Ten started walking out of the dressing room, motioning for me to follow. She walked towards the backstage curtains. Once we arrived Madam Ten slung her arms gently around my shoulders and brought her lips closer to my ears.

"Tell me Y/N, are you familiar with NCT 127?"

My eyes bulged upon hearing the name. NCT 127 was one of the most infamous Mafia gangs in Seoul. Specializing in drug trade and weapon imports, NCT 127 was known for it's ties with the police, making it the gang untouchable. Besides that, most people don't know very much about the group. People know that it exists, but most of the group's actions completed with such secrecy that no one outside of the group is completely sure about the how far their reach is. Some have specified that they have so much power in Seoul that even the president had been accused of being in the leader's pocket.

I turned to face the Madam.

"It seems as though they will be making up our audience this evening."

Madam Ten lifted back the curtain ever so slightly revealing the faces within the crowd. Missing, were the familiar faces of our loyal regulars, only to be replaced with more intimidating facades. Tough looking men wearing dashing suits littered the tables and bar areas. Many were sitting down in an organized manor, but even more were standing in small groups, wondering around, probably to get a drink, or worse, to harass the waitresses.

It was in this moment that I felt somewhat relieved that Jungwoo was sent home. I couldn't even imagine how these men would treat a man in drag if this was how they treated the female staff.

Cat calls made up most of the noise in the room, yet it seemed as though they were all coming from a small group of men seated at the main table.

It was normal for us to seat astonished guests at the table closest to center stage. This way, whoever was deemed important enough to be seated there, could have the best view of the performers. Also, since the stage wasn't elevated, the performers would often walk into the crowd attempting to raise audience participation. Sometimes it would be asking an audience member to help remove an article of clothing. Other times it could be a full-on lap dance, depending on how wild or trustworthy the audience was that particular night. Either way, audience participation was always centered around this table.

Seated at/surrounding the table were five men. They all looked to be in their early or late twenties. Although everyone else in the room seemed intimidating in the conventional "thug" way, these men were intimidating in different way.

"Handsome, aren't they?" Madam Ten cooed almost as if these men were celebrities' whose presence should be appreciated, instead of ruthless mafia members who intimidated their ways into the audience, but I couldn't disagree.

Each of the men varied greatly in image, yet to say that any of them were less that godly would be a obvious lie.

Two men were standing up at their seats trying to control their obviously drunk colleague who kept making passes at the waitresses as they walked by. The drunk one was short but still very handsome with his golden bleached blonde hair and charming laugh. It seemed as though he would have no trouble picking up women if it weren’t for his brazenly drunk behavior.

As a waitress went to check on their table, the blonde man had slapped the poor girl's ass as he spoke to her in English.

"What do you say me and you get out of this overpriced bar and get ourselves a real drink?" He said as he put his hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him. The poor girl let out a small shriek.

I recognized her as one of the new girls on staff. Really innocent and sweet, but she normally did well when dealing with drunk costumers when they got out of line, but this time our customers were irregular compared to what she was used to.

The girl froze.

"Come on baby. Don't you wanna have a little fun? What's wrong?" The blonde asshole continued.

"Mark, Stop making a fool of yourself and it down." A tall brunette grabbed him and plopped the blonde back into his seat as if he weighed nothing. "She probably doesn't even speak English." He continued as he whispers something into the waitress's ear and hands her what appeared to be four 50,000won bills. As she quickly moved away, I put two and two together and figure that he was probably asking her to forget about his friend's indiscretions.

"I wasn't even...hiccup...speaking English Johnny." The blonde drunkenly continued mumbling in English as he tried to get up to follow the girl, only to be set back down again by the third standing party.

This third party stayed silent but nodded at the tall brunette previously referred to as Johnny.

Huh. It seemed like maybe this guy is either the strong silent type or he doesn't speak English. Whereas the other two seemed to be American like me. I noticed how the two spoke English in an accent very similar to my own along with the mentioning of their English names.

"Maybe when you were working with the Dreamies in the Canadian unit, getting drunk and harassing waitresses was acceptable, but now that you're working for the big boss, you have to keep up appearances. Okay Newbie?" Johnny lectured.

I started mentally cursing myself for assuming that the two English speakers were from America, not even considering the option that they could be from Canada, only to have my thoughts interrupted by the Madam.

"They might have used their power to influence the program of tonight's show, but I cannot tolerate any ruckus they make." Madam Ten gestured toward Mark.

Madam Ten started walking towards the doors leading out to the audience, but before leaving, she glanced at me and raised one ring covered index finger towards me, as if queuing me to stay put while she dealt with the unruly audience member. Then without waiting for me to confirm that I understand her silent request, she started to approach the three men, hips swaying ever so seductively.

Even though Madam Ten may have let the Mafia gang intimidate her into going with whatever changes to the show that were demanded by the irregular guests, I was relieved to hear that she still wouldn't tolerate disruptions within the audience.

I lifted the curtain up again and watched as Madam Ten made her way to the bar where the noisy blonde and his silent colleague had wondered off to.

"Hello boys," The Madam greeted the two suited men in a strict yet somehow still flirtatious manner.

Both men raised their eyes to meet the Madam's.

Stressing a smile, she continued. "It seems as though you are making my staff feel uncomfortable."

Madam Ten placed a hand on the lapel of the silent man's jacket hoping to incite a response.

"When young boys don't know how to play nicely, that's when they get placed in time out."

Mark looked up at the hand places on his hyung's chest and scoffed, further proving that the comparison of him to a toddle might not be that far of a stretch.

The third man looked at the madam with kind eyes and smiled. For a split second I was relieved that the situation didn't seem hostile. That was, until the third opened his mouth.

"Well what happens to old bats when they don't know when to fucking shut their traps?"

I couldn’t help but let out a gasp.

The third man had black hair with vibrant blue highlights. Despite the obvious fact that he was a member of the most ruthless gang/mafia in Seoul, he had somehow been born with an extremely innocent looking face. One could even allude his facial features to that of a baby rabbit. Yet he spit out his response like venom proving that one shouldn’t judge a bunny by it's adorable features, but by how hard it bites.

Madam Ten's jaw dropped, her confident facade having been completely shattered. Anger visibly erupted from her foundation covered pores. I watched her as her hand balled up into a fist, but before she could raise it even an inch, Johnny inserted himself in between the madam and his formerly silent colleague.

"Doyoung! How could you say that to such a beautiful young lady?" Although he was speaking to Doyoung, he didn't break eye contact with the Madam for even a second.

"Don't you realize that we are guests in this lovely establishment and should be thankful that we are blessed to have such a beautiful hostess?"

Johnny grabbed the Madam's hand melting away her fist as he planted a kiss on her ring covered fingers.

"Normally, I like to kiss a woman's hand without being obstructed by the presence of rings." Johnny looked up at the Madam while Doyoung rolled his eyes at his colleague's over the top mannerisms.

"Do any of these rings signify that I should address you as Mrs. instead of Miss?" Johnny slightly inquired as he winked at the Madam.

Ugh Barf. There is no way that the Madam is buying this.

An annoyingly long string of giggles escaped from Madam Ten's mouth.

"You can refer to me as Madam Ten, and no, there is no Mr. Ten." She responded as she wrapped Johnny's arm around hers.

"Instead of playing with such immature young boys, you should accompany me for some drinks in my private room before the show," Madam ten stated shooting a glare toward Mark and Doyoung.

Before Johnny could even respond, the Madam started leading him to her private quarters backstage. Realizing that he may have laid on the charm a little too strong, Johnny glanced towards his colleagues giving them a desperate "Help me out of this" look, only for it to be returned with a smirk from Doyoung and an empty concerned look from Mark.

Once Madam Ten and her new boytoy left my vision, my eyes followed the two men as they returned to their original table.

Still sitting at the table were two other men.

Both men were wearing navy blue pin striped suits, and both were sitting silently, but that was about the only thing they had in common visually. One was leaning so far back in his chair it seemed as if sliding down one more inch would end in him slipping onto the floor, yet he seemed perfectly relaxed in his posture as he rested his left foot on top of his left knee. The other man was sitting up so straight that physical therapists could use a picture of him as a guide for perfect posture.

His hair was styled in a side swept undercut. A style that suited the man's angular face. He was handsome, but he didn't have any strange features that stood out. No piercings, no crazy colored hair, no flashy jewelry except for a Gucci watch on his left wrist. Even though the watch was flashy in of itself, it still would have probably been considered to have been one of the plainer Gucci watch designs.

He was dressed like an accountant. The most attractive accountant in the world, but still it was hard to describe how little he stood out. Which is almost sad because when examined, some would probably place him above the rest of his colleagues in terms of visuals.

Upon closer inspection, I was able to make out that the slouching mean's hair was a dark shade of purple that looked almost black under the dark lighting of the room. Two small loop piercings adorned the ear that I could see, and bold purple eye makeup was smudged around both his eyes. Well, at least I thought it was makeup. With how dark the room is before showtime, it's possible that he had two black eyes, but it doesn't seem likely that a man can look so mesmerizingly gorgeous with two black eyes.

Compared to his striped suit seat neighbor, he looked like a rebellious teen. In fact, he looked the most like a gang member out of all of them.

God, I wonder how I didn’t notice him before.

The way they dressed was so professional looking that it would be understandable to forget that these were horrid men that committed violent crimes on the regular.

I looked up at a clock on the wall and realized that it was almost showtime. I started heading back to my dressing room for a drink before the show, but as soon as I passed by the Madam's personal quarters I heard muffled voices. After realizing that nothing too adult was taking place, I couldn't help but press my ear against the door hoping to eavesdrop on the unlikely duo.

"Ummm I..I.. Umm don't you think that we should get back before the show starts?"

The confident flirt that I watched shamelessly flirt with the Madam earlier had dissipated and been replaced by a scared baby deer being hunted by a hungry lion.

"Come one lover boy, this won't take long at all."

Eck! I could almost hear her wink through the door.

My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden voice.

"Isn't it considered rude to eavesdrop?"

I suddenly jumped back and let out a small shriek. I turned towards the voice only to see the purple haired an from earlier leaning on the wall right next to me with his arms crossed,

"Oof," He said as he brought a finger to his ear as if responding to my scream.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He took a step closer towards me before resting an arm on the wall above my head.

"I heard that one of my colleagues needed to be collected from backstage, but that doesn't explain why you are here....Unless....Perhaps you were hoping to hear something besides conversation."

He looked down at me and smirked causing my face to flush. Even in heavy stage makeup I could tell that he noticed the new blush on my cheeks. I just stared at him, terrified, or maybe mesmerized, probably both.

"Okay so I guess you aren't actually as perverted as I originally suspected. It's okay though. I like good girls, but judging from your getup, you must have a bit wild side."

I looked down at the floor and realize that I was wearing my burlesque costume. Even though I have worn much more revealing clothing in front of hundreds of audience members, there was something about this guy that made me feel like I was naked in the most uncomfortable way. His eyes burned holes into my body.

"Yuta, did you find the boss?" The man with the undercut hairstyle from before walked around the corner and stopped when he saw us.

Yuta rolled his eyes before taking his arm off of the wall and turned to face the man.

"Always one to pop up during the most inconvenient times. Right, Taeil?"

Taeil looked at me with visible concern showing on his face.

"Leave the poor girl alone. I swear to god, sometimes you're worse than Mark."

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream arose from behind the door and Taeil hurriedly opened it while Yuta merely let out a bored yawn.

My body stressed with worry for the Madam.

This Johnny bastard could have just left the room if he didn't want to do anything with the Madam. He didn’t have to hurt her.

I looked inside the room expecting a bloodied Madam only to be struck with the sudden realization....Ten wasn't the one who screamed.

Johnny was lying on the bed, face covered with heavy lipstick marks, and the Madam on top of him.

You could tell that Johnny was not having as much fun as the Madam was, but she was as oblivious as always.

Having noticed his colleagues had come to his rescue, Johnny sat up. The Madam lifted herself up off of the bed and in turn, off Johnny.

"Johnny... Umm" Taeil stuttered.

Yuta entered the room and tossed a handkerchief to the lipstick covered man.

"Clean yourself off. The boss will be here any minute." Yuta stated calmly. The smirk on his face even more prominent than before.

There are more of them?

"What a shame it is to have such a..." Ten looked at us, "unfortunate interruption," she continued.

"Don't worry Madam. We'll bring him back to you after the show," Yuta winked and Johnny, who was wiping his face freezes in fear, making me feel almost sorry for him.

Sadly, due to the power dynamics in gender roles, Madam Ten's lack of consent was being played off as a joke by his friend, instead of an actual close call for a possibly traumatic event. A kind of event I almost went through myself.

"I should probably go to greet the young man." The madam fixed her wig.

"I should at least see the man responsible for tonight's sudden change in theme."

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