#bts science fiction au

[oshisanbignaturals]

Cyber catboy biology 101

Part of my enstars kemono cyberpunk au which i wrote a little about here

[taebear24]

Dépaysement

2.9k / ongoing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34738207

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [5]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 9.4k

So I edited chapter 3 where Yoongi told Reader to wait till next year for their contract renewal because from the discourse on twt yesterday, they renewed their contract October later in 2018 (which is the year this is taking place).

Gonna stop yapping so here's a 9.4k chapter with a lot of explaining, i hope it all makes sense oh lord this chap is not beta read AT ALL. ALSO WTF IS WITH THE TAGS THEY'RE NOT WORKINGGGGGG

thank you all for your comments and likes, it keeps me going :DD

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

_____

Namjoon was a man of science.

He believes in everything that can be explained in a lengthy and intricately detailed book filled with an even more difficult terminologies and worded examinations backed up by photographic evidence to prove it. 

To him, if he didn't see it happen before his very eyes, it was fiction, a lie.

It's how it should be.

As a child, he frowned upon the heretics and the desperate, thanking a nonexistent god for the fruit of their hard work. He couldn’t fathom how they could weep so genuinely as they prayed on their knees for blessings that never come, and if gods were real, he could never understand how devoted they are for someone who turned a blind eye to the challenges they faced.

He never understood how the lonely could resort to immorality in their desperation for a soulmate, couldn't fathom how easily they shed their humanity for a morsel, a hint of that sense of belonging and importance being a tethered gave.

It was dumb.

Life doesn't revolve around soulmates, they should've tried other options instead of blaming the theoretical nirvana for their own misfortune.

Despite being a child born from two mates, he never believed in the concepts of soulmates, thinking it childish as it was an idea the lonely and the hopeless hung onto to feel better for themselves. He believed that his parents would have met either way without their soulmarks, would've fallen in love the same and bring him to life. 

Because they were meant to be, even without the marks to prove it.

Sure he wished to eventually settle down with someone who also loved him as his mother does with his father but he doesn't believe in the spiritual connection.

But science has nothing on the sensation he was feeling right now.

The moment the clock struck midnight, a heartbeat suddenly began to drum at the back of his head, but it was faint and muffled as if it was distant and came through multiple walls but he could hear its panicked pace echoing in his skull. In the silence you and Jungkook’s departure has left, Namjoon began to feel dread bubbling inside him. A tension slowly building up with the beat of the racing heart at the back of his head.

It felt like those slowly crescending notes of a horror movie's background music as the killer stalks nearer. There's a tension thickening but he's the only one who could feel it, could sense it coming.

It's making him nervous beyond belief how he doesn't know what is afoot.

A gasp tore through his thought process and he looked up to see his Yoongi hyung eyeing something invisible in his right hand, disbelief apparent in his wide eyes as the others turned to him with concerned curiosity.

But Namjoon already knew what it was, at least felt like he knew what it is, although he himself is incredulous.

He's read up everything that he could about soulmates in his teenage years wanting to refute his parents' insistence on how they wouldn't have clicked as well as they are without the soulmark yet none of them could explain how he just knows the heartbeat at the back of his head belonged to you.

________

Fate truly has a funny way of revealing who your soulmate is.

It was said that the sensation when you first meet your soulmate should be a wave of cold relief flushing all the worries out of your system. Your mother and Jihae told you stories of the sudden sense of belonging, like finding the last piece of the puzzle from a mere accidental brush of a hand with a stranger on the streets.

If it was in any other scenario, you would've agreed with them.

But as Jungkook raises both your hands to survey the skin for any mark, your world shrinks down like an air tight ziplock bag to only fit you and him. A low thrum resonated in the air, mellifluous and sweet, a direct contrast to the dull but racing heartbeat at the back of your head. Jolts of electricity vibrated under your skin starting from your joined hands and spreading across your muscles and lighting your nerve endings awake.

The walls around you closed in, not because it was Jungkook who you happened to be fated to. But because there's a thin, red thread tied around your pinkie.

A red string of fate.

And it's not tethered to Jungkook.

It goes behind you and you dread to know who it leads to.

There's a curious tug from down the line, the thread turning tangible at every pull and the urge to run away, to hide in the comforts of your home grew tenfold. Because you're sure the string leads to one of the boys.

People who became your closest companions after years of being their make-up artist. Half of which you've rejected before and four of them you've remained friends with. 

Isn't this a bit too much of a joke?

How funny it must've been for the divinities to watch you reject the men eventually revealed to be your soulmate. They must've cackled, pointing fingers and all, as they watched you reject them. You wouldn’t put it behind them to connect the end of your string to someone you’ve also turned down.

You watched Jungkook speedrun through the five stages of grief in a few seconds, face contorting every so often it made it hard to get a read on what he's feeling. He let out a shaky exhale as he came to, doe eyes meeting yours with an incredulous sheen. 

His continuous silence stuffed cottons into your throat, the conflicted expression he has settled on only furthering the panic in your chest. 

You retract your hand but he was faster, catching your wrist in a tighter grip. There's a question hanging from his lips but they cease to exist the moment you both see the mark on your finger.

In the space between your index and middle finger lies a black quarter note, inked into the skin of your middle. The tint bold and black. 

Raising his own hand, your eyes landed on the same pattern etched on his on the opposite side. As if hypnotized, he intertwined his fingers and the same gentle thrum came back, along with a comforting warmth echoing from your soulmate mark and spreading throughout your body, almost rendering you boneless from how intense yet easily it relieved you of the stress on your body.

You weren't the only one affected by its calming properties. The frustration and anger in Jungkook's from earlier now erased from his face, as if it was never there. Acceptance.

Just like that, the problem is solved; and that unsettles you.

“Noona… Wh-what is happening?”

His voice is so small, shaky and hopeful . Eyes growing larger as he surveys your soulmate marks with a joyful disbelief. He untangled your hand and pulled the soulmark closer to his eye. Curiously, Jungkook hesitantly taps the musical note and shivered with you when skin touched skin.

You both suck in a deep breath, freezing at the foreign sensation it brought you both before a smile that stretches high up to the heavens brightens his face.

Jungkook's eyes were glazed with unshed tears when you found them once more, breath shaky as he placed a kiss onto your knuckles. The sensation of his lips on your skin sending jolts down your spine.

“Noona, we're soulmates.”

You didn't even hear the sound of footsteps running up the stairs nor Taehyung calling you both until he got close, hand landing on your shoulder and effectively snapping you out of your trance.

“Are you guys okay? Not too long ago you were at each other's throat and now—woah!”

A shrill of pleasure shocks your body, vision flashing white and you fall. If it wasn't for Jungkook, you would've collapsed boneless next to Taehyung who's gasping on the floor, hand clutching his heart as he heaved. Jungkook let you lean your body weight on him once you stood up again. Arms wrapping around your waist protectively as your brain catches up.

A sharp gasp from Jungkook kick starts your already racing heart, panic flushing out whatever has happened earlier.

But that wasn't the thing that made your head pulse.

It was the shaky utterance of your name and looking up at Jungkook only to be distracted by the faint glow of blue in the shape of a hand on your shoulder. The spot where Taehyung had last touched you.

In the dimness of the hallway, it gleamed a soft shade of purple like a splatter of glow in the dark paint. Your head snapped back to Taehyung who had pushed himself to sit up, cradling his head while murmuring intelligible under his breath until he looked up and his jaw fell .

“I-Is that…?”

“Hyung, what is the meaning of this?”

Taehyung turned to the maknae, spluttering. “I-I don't even… Ho-how is this even possible?”

How is it possible to feel like the world has pulled a carpet from under you while also feeling like you're laying on cloud 9?

Three soulmates.

Two of them being people you once rejected, one of them unknown but the string suspiciously led downstairs where the rest of the boys are.

You feel like passing out just to avoid the talk it'll entail. Maybe you should run at the wall and hope you'll hit your head hard enough to guarantee amnesia.

“Noona, you're seeing this too right?” 

Taehyung is now standing in front of you, bewilderment still dancing in his eyes as he traced the already fading handprint and a small line of purple followed. He grinned and it's probably the happiest one you've ever seen him wear, eyes misty and overflowing with joy as he giggled, the sound almost reminiscent of an excited child.

Jungkook’s arm tightened around you.

“Wh-why do you have paint on noona’s shoulder? Hyung?” Jungkook’s voice shakes from the weight of the revelation hanging above his head. “Are we sharing noona?”

“GUYS! YOONGI HYUNG GOT A SOULMATE!”

Holy shit.

Unlike you who's despairing to see the man on the other side of the thread, Taehyung was beyond ecstatic.

“No fucking way. I gotta see this.”

Taehyung dragged you to the stairs when your legs refused to move, uprooting you from where you leaned onto Jungkook's side. Your stomach churned at how lighter the strings felt in your pinkie and a tad tighter as the distance shortened.

There's a sudden heartbeat racing in your ears but it sounds far away and it doesn't sync with the pulse you feel in your temples. You couldn't dwell on it for long before you're faced with the man at the other end of the line.

They said it all started with their eldest but unbeknownst to them, he was the first to notice how your eyes would light up as if it held the entire galaxy, how you’d laugh and he thought it sounded like the sweetest jingles of wedding bells to his ears. 

Seokjin might be their eldest but he was the beginning of it all.

In his twenty five years of existence on this damned planet, Min Yoongi has never asked for much, content with whatever life throws at him.

Even with his harsh upbringing, he never kept what he has from others, especially since he met his brothers. He'd willingly ripped off the cloth from his back to keep them warm and plugged their ears with both his hands so they couldn’t hear the hateful words thrown at them at debut, even if it cost of being exposed to them instead. But he couldn't care less, Yoongi loves them with all his heart.

There's nothing in the world that could ever stop him from bending over backwards just so the others could live peacefully.

When his pockets grew heavier with age, this trait only bloomed further into millions donated anonymously to hospitals and charities he could stumble upon. 

To everyone, especially his brothers, he’s a generous man.

Until you strode into his life and haunted him in his waking days with the ghost of your touch caressing his face.

Min Yoongi never wants yet he yearned, he craved to feel the softness of your skin under his fingertips, to taste your lips and discover if you tasted as sweet as you smell, to run his hand through your hair as to know if it's as soft as it looked under the soft glow of the room. 

And for once in his life, he wanted to be selfish.

Being with you makes him want to believe, want to hope that something nonsensical as the concept of soulmates is true.

Min Yoongi wasn’t a believer of such optimism because his mother wasn’t. She passed down her resentment for the fates for turning a blind eye on her onto her next of kin. She was bitter from being untethered and barred her children from subjecting themselves to whimsical thoughts of fates and destinies. But now that you’ve come and bursted through the iron doors of his heart, he started to wonder if the divine had purposely tripped you in front of the BigHit building to be discovered by their oldest make-up noona and lead you to them.

He knew they did, could feel it within him. 

There was something different about you on the first day you've both met, something that he couldn't find in others and his mind answered almost immediately.

Soulmate.

You who shined even without the help of others, who stood out like the beacon of light in the shady pits of this world, he couldn’t dare face you as someone whose future is as dim as the blasted world he cursed out. With nothing to offer, he strived to be the best, to crawl to the top whatever it takes.

He couldn't show you a pathetic side of him, couldn't step forward with a bleak future to offer. Yoongi wouldn't be able to bear it if you were to grow miserable beside him.

Because for you, he'd stop at nothing to hand everything you'd ever lay your eyes on wrapped in a pretty bow of the most expensive quality and tucked neatly behind soft colored gift wrappers.

For years, Min Yoongi hid.

What else could he do when most of his brothers also vied for your attention? He loved you all with all his heart, couldn't bear the thought of ever hurting any of you for his selfish desires. So he did what he thought was best, step back and watch from the sidelines.

And he was fine with that.

He thinks himself a patient man. A trait forged by years of encountering nagging customers and demanding adults from working as a delivery boy. Yet all it took was a couple dozen bottles of Soju and a warm atmosphere to accidentally confess his feelings for you. Ashamed and already knowing what his hyung has received as an answer, he puts on a mask the next day and acts.

He did it so well you were convinced he wasn't kidding by forgetting last night's mistakes and swallowing up the disappointment when you didn’t bother asking him again and acted like nothing ever happened.

But it's okay, Min Yoongi is a patient man, he can wait.

So when you appeared before him, a red string tied prettily around your pinkie with the thread leading back to his own, he was beyond euphoric .

He felt like he could climb the highest summit bare in record speed with no equipment and only the warmth of the new bond.

The moment you all appeared in the living room with your shoulder and linked hands glowing purple, all hell broke loose. You didn't even get to look at Yoongi’s reaction when everyone was exploding around you, running to look at the evidence of your connection to Taehyung up close.

“Holy shit!”

“What the fuck?!”

“You guys are connected?!”

“What the fuck is happening right now?!”

Taehyung, despite being the second guy discovering himself as your soulmate, kept a smug smile hovered protectively behind you, hands planted on your shoulders and pushing his hyungs a few steps away to keep them from overwhelming you.

Everyone surrounding you had varying reactions even then, Namjoon kept his distance but hovered over behind his brothers with his eyebrows furrowed, staring with his calculating gaze and the heartbeat echoing at the back of your head grow rampant. 

You didn’t dare look at Seokjin, whose gaze weighed heavily with hurt and disappointment, penetrated through your skin, especially when you heard him run upstairs, and the door of his room slams shut.

He who had confessed first, had continued to love you even when you had thought he had moved on, somehow didn’t make the cut. Another cruel joke the fates have played.

It was Jimin who snapped you out of the trance when he grazed the side of your neck and flinched back when swirls of gold erupted from the spot he ghosted over before both your knees buckled. The gleaming gold ink spinning a pretty vine-like twirl before sinking back into your skin.

If the room was loud earlier, it has erupted into a mass hysteria now.

Because four out of your seven bosses turn out to be tethered to you. Three who you had rejected before and one who has never shown any romantic interest in you.

How funny was it for the universe to link you to the same men you've rejected for the fear of ruining the amazing brotherhood they've built from years of hard work and tears?

The sensation of two cascading waves of calmness from the bonds trying to soothe the ever growing dread clashed against each other made your stomach churn. Your headache has evolved into a pulsing one before you felt a tug on the string. From the revelation to the onslaught of feelings attacking and fighting off your initial panic, your body struggled to keep up with its conflicting emotions.

You wanted to run, to hide from their gaze, to put an end to the conflicted mess of emotions being forced into you and surfacing along with your thoughts.

Jimin has refrained from touching you since earlier, his beautiful face now contorted into concern, his soft eyes seeing past the fog in yours while the world continues around you. He stares at you as if trying to decipher something, as if he could somehow feel how overwhelmed you are.

He opened his mouth to say something, his hands already reaching to pull Taehyung and Jungkook away from you when a voice broke through the chatter.

“You're crowding her too much!”

Namjoon’s hands were steadying when he held your shoulders, like water in a desert, like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. With their leader stepping in, all words fell into a hush and for the first time since the chaos, it was silent; save for the slowing rhythms of two heartbeats thudding in your head.

If Taehyung and Jungkook's touch felt like a jolt of energy and Jimin was rejuvenating and healing, Namjoon had the ability to kill the noise in your mind with eye contact alone.

Peering deeper into his gaze, your breath stutters because the knowing glint within them has confirmed another thought of yours. Shared heartbeats . Suddenly the other beat in your head sounded clearer, more present along with your thoughts.

A fifth soulmate.

What the fuck.

“Hyung, are you sober enough to drive?”

Hoseok turns to him, face turning serious as he glances at you once more before nodding. 

“I’ll get her home, I didn't drink much anyways.”

It felt burdensome to leave such a life-altering problem for them to handle while you cower in their spare bedroom, trying to hide from the reality that you might be linked to all seven of them. 

The reassuring squeeze on your shoulders brought you back from the guilty trans you’ve submerged into and was faced with Namjoon's kind eyes and smile.

“Go home noona, we'll handle it from here.”

“You sure?”

He nods. “I know this is overwhelming so I want you to go rest and let me do the planning and talking, alright?”

When you didn’t respond, Namjoon wrapped his arms around you. There’s hesitance in how his movement stuttered, could hear him ponder as he pulled you flush to his chest, afraid of affecting you like the maknaes had but when his touch didn’t evoke the staggering flood of euphoria, he grew more sure of his movements.

With a kiss on your head, he unwraps himself from you and gently guides you back to Hoseok who’s now standing outside the open door of their dorm. His eyes were glued onto you, following your form as you near him but somehow, it felt like he was staring past through you and into the void.

Walking to the car was a silent affair and you don’t know if you rather have Hoseok being quiet or not.

It was bearable when he turned on the radio and a song that has no connection to the boys plays, not that it ever stopped the thoughts constantly spawning from the crevices of your mind.

When you had asked the fates for a soulmate, had you sounded so desperate that they'd given you five?

You’ve heard of three souls connected, hell, Yeonjun is a part of a five-way soulmate link; Interlinked, is what they’re called. Everyone in the group has their own unique mark with each member which usually led to constant overstimulation in the beginning, which made the company put them on medications until their bond settles a year later.

Even today, there are times where they still get affected by their bonds, although not as often as it used to. It was a wonder how there haven't been investigations put on BigHit with how often the five had to be sent to the hospital for soulbond hyperactivity at least once a week for a whole year.

But a nexus between six people, five connected to one. That is unheard of, the rarest even.

Five soulmates yet none of those were Seokjin. Someone who had stuck with you since the first day, the first to confess, and the one who remained loyal, wasn’t tethered to you.

“Hoba?’

“Yes, noona?” 

He sounded guarded, his face ironed into a neutral, more serious expression as he slowed as the traffic light went red.

“What’s gonna happen now?”

He bit his lower lip as he pondered, thumbs tapping incessantly on the wheel before he spoke.

“We're gonna have to update your statuses in the DFR, but I doubt the company will make it public just yet. There's nothing also in our contract that prohibits us from pursuing a relationship with our soulmates if we ever come across them so you're good on that front.”

You notice how he excluded himself from the Nexus bond and you feel a pinch on your heart at how formal he has become, as if he’s already put up a wall between you both.

“We'll probably have a long talk about it once I get back but I doubt they'd wait that long for me. You’re probably wouldn't be allowed to touch Jimin and Taehyung anymore when you're working because your soulmarks are very obvious and I know you don't want—”

“Y-You don't think you're also…”

Silence followed as he adjusted himself in his seat as the car began to move again, his hands drumming on the wheel halts as the facade he's wearing shattered for a moment and his eyes grew foggy, clouded by a deep shade of blue.

Under the passing warm lights of the streetlights overhead, Hoseok has never looked more devastated to you than he does now.

You had never noticed it, he has always been open with his affections to his friends so you never thought of it as anything but his usual touchiness. He shows his care for you in the same way he does with his brothers, so paid it no need and brushed it off.

How could Soobin notice it? What had he seen that you missed?

“If I was, I would've felt something different but here we are.” He forces out a laugh before glancing at you and offering a hand. You notice how his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. “We're still the bestest of friends even without the mark, right?”

Hesitantly, you took it.

The moment your fingers wrapped around his Hoseok immediately takes his hand back in favor of holding the brake between you both.

You try to not let his aversion to touch affect you. It was understandable why he isn’t touching you as he always had. New soulbonds are fickle, there’s been multiple reports where people are rushed into ER after brushing their hands against strangers and had been in excruciating pain from soulbond strain.

Their new bodies had thought they were denying destiny and had punished them. It was ridiculous.

But for him to completely retreat to himself, visibly putting up a tall wall between you both is a different kind of pain. For Hoseok, someone who has never had to restrain himself from holding your hands or hugging you whenever he's excited, to step back hurts you more than you thought it would.

“Noona, we’re here.”

As you left the car, you pondered on what to say to him. What could you even tell him?

Do you even say you're sorry he's not one of your soulmates or would that sound mocking?

Should you say that you had wished once that he becomes tethered to you or would that be rubbing salt on the wound?

But before you could even turn around and say your goodbyes, the moment the door was closed, Hoseok drove off. 

Waking up was dreadful.

It felt more exhausting and daring than it had yesterday when you were going to your third date with Guwon. Sleeping was difficult, you could feel Yoongi touch the string from miles away, eyes flying open whenever you felt the thread become tangible and gently glow in the darkness of your room.

It wasn't his soul-link alone that disturbed you, Namjoon’s heartbeat constantly changed rhythm although it was faint enough to blend into the background with the rumble of the air conditioner. From the nervous gallops to the calmer but deeper thuds whenever he seems to drown himself in his own thoughts.

You had research about your soul links when you grew restless in your bed, obsessed over the fact there's little to no information on your and Jimin's mark, trying to ignore the concerned messages from your mother and sister. They were asking about Guwon and why you decided to end things. You know that you should explain, you at least owe your mother the reason why you had decided to stop seeing the lawyer but you couldn't.

After weeks of her constant questioning and spamming links of wedding organizers and dressmakers, you couldn't find the courage to face your mother.

Not that it matters anymore though, not after last night.

Would you send her to an early grave once you tell her the news? How do you even break the news to your parents? Hi mom, I'm sorry I've been ignoring you yesterday. Yes, I stopped seeing Guwon but hey, I found you five new son-in-laws and they happen to be the members of the world's biggest boyband so don't be mad yeah?

She might just make true to her threat of hanging you upside down on a sack on your porch back in the province.

The same thought had led you to realizing how close you were to being engaged with Guwon in Jeju only to find out the next day who your soulmates were. 

When you trudged to the bathroom, exhaustion clung and weighed your bones but you excused it to your shitty sleep.

Not once has any of the boys reached out to you the whole night, the silence from Seokjin carving a hollowness in your chest. You know that they're busy handling the grunt and paperworks due today but to have not a single text in the groupchat made dread crawl up within you.

So when the door rang a quarter to nine, you jumped.

The door opens and Namjoon steps into your living room with Seokjin following closely behind him, expression guarded and eyes averted while the former approaches you. Both their eyes are swollen, no doubt from a sleepless night except Seokjin's looks far puffier than the other.

“Hi noona,” Namjoon began, voice soft as ever as he approached you to wrap his arms around you and you let him. “Hyung’s here with me to drive you to the DFR, the others went first since we decided that it's better if you're not lumped up with all your soulmates in one small space so it's just us three today.”

“Have you eaten?” Seokjin says, unmoving from where he stands a step away from the door, guarded and stiff, as if trying to meld himself into the wood.

His voice is hoarse and he looked more worn than you've ever seen him yet he managed to sound soft and put on the smallest of smiles. Your heart twinges.

“I haven't, you guys didn't tell me when we were going to have the bond registered.”

Namjoon sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “Sorry about that. We got busy discussing how we'll be moving forward, the company has already cleared out the office and as Hobi-hyung might've told you, they're doing everything they can to keep this under wraps for now.”

“There’s unfortunately no time for take-outs due to the time crunch, I doubt you guys will be out by twelve but I think we can all go for a good, filling lunch.”

“Jinnie, are you okay?”

The words slipped out of your lips before you could realize it had. His eyes widened for a fracture, taken aback before a sad smile stretched his lips.

“I will be, don't worry.”

Namjoon claps his hands abruptly, cutting through the air as he forces out a grin. “Alright, let's be on our way.”

“What about the family dinners?” You pushed on.

“We'll tell them the truth. I can't exactly bring you to family dinners as my fake girlfriend anymore now, can I?”

What started as Jin needing your help in stopping vulture-like aunties trying to introduce their daughters to him, grew far more serious when Mrs. Kim began to invite you annually to their family reunion dinners and had begun sending you the occasional gift boxes from her trips abroad. You tried giving them to Jin when the first box came but he insisted you keep them anyway. It made you feel guilty for tricking his family, especially his mother, but Jin needed your help in warding off the bad energy .

“We told hyung that once the bond gets stable next year, you can continue attending them.” Namjoon adds.

“Obviously I denied, what a stupid idea.” Seokjin immediately responds with a scoff and Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Why are you even paired with them when they disregard your safety like this? Really, why would you guys even suggest that?”

Namjoon turns to him with a look that seems to ask ‘do you really want me to answer that?’ and Seokjin pursed his lips in a straight line. You laughed.

It was a relief to see that nothing has changed within their dynamics. You had feared the day everyone would turn against each other because of you. It had made you wary of how much time you spend with a member one on one, scared the others would think of it as picking favorites. 

To see Seokjin, the one you have no doubt been more devastated than Hoseok, be making light hearted jokes about the soulmarks lifted off a huge weight from your shoulders.

“I hope auntie won't take it to heart. You were a nice boyfriend but you kept nagging me to pay a nonsense debt.”

“You still have a balance to settle with me, don't forget that,” He jokes. “But seriously, mom would be sad, she likes you better than me.”

Namjoon's phone pings, the sound silencing you both. With a hissed apology, he turned his attention to the device and read the notification on his lock screen before turning to you.

“We need to get going soon. Hobi hyung said Yoongi hyung and Jimin just got called up.”

“Wait, I haven't showered yet! You guys didn't even warn me!”

But as you move to run back to your room, Namjoon stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“It's fine, noona.”

“It's not like we haven't seen you with unwashed hair for two days straight.”

“Hey that was one time!” You exclaimed, indignant.

“What was the longest day, hyung?” Namjoon clicks his fingers, a small teasing grin tugging his lips.

“Three days I think?”

“I thought it was a week?”

“So that's why she looked so greasy.” 

Their laughter when you slapped both their arms twinkled in your ears. The sound warming your chest but also grating your gears at the same time. 

Fresher than you had been earlier, you all arrive at the DFA an hour later. Spending thirty preparing, another half traveling to the heart of Seoul.

There's already a few bodyguards dressed in civilian wear lingering outside the office. Mr. Lee approached the car once the three of you began to step out before ushering all of you inside the building with a few other guards.

Save for the receptionists on the other side of the counter placed in the dead middle of the room, the lobby was empty. Sejin comes out from the wide open arch on the right, a man dressed in neatly ironed and a tailored black suit following behind him. 

“Let's all move to where the rest are. We couldn't rent the building for the whole day so they’ll be opening to the general public soon but we were allowed to have one floor to ourselves.”

None of you objects and followed him to the elevator and to the second floor where you were immediately greeted by Taehyung, Hoseok and Jungkook sitting on the blue plastic seats clustered by both sides of the walls.

When the metal doors parts open, their heads turn and immediately, Taehyung stands and runs up to you with arms wide.

Namjoon and Seokjin weren't able to react fast enough. The moment Taehyung wrapped himself around you, a powerful wave of bliss crashed over you and your legs gave out. They all screamed your name as you fell but they were muffled, hands grabbed onto whatever they could in the haste of catching you.

In the bleariness of your vision, you could make out Taehyung narrowly avoiding crumpling onto the floor when someone caught him by the waist.

“...That was so stupid of you…”

“...Why…Taehyung?...”

“Noona?”

The haze clears and you find yourself being carried by Seokjin into the nearest doctor’s office. You hear the door open before Yoongi’s exasperated but concerned voice follows.

“What the hell happened now?”

“Taehyung forgot they're soulmates and hugged her.”

“Fuckin—Just get her inside.”

“Noona, I’m so sorry!”

Seokjin lets you down on a soft cushioned armchair and you find yourself staring back at a bespectacled woman with hair so straight you wonder how Yoongi didn't feel exorcized at the sight of it.

She didn't waste any time and she rose from her seat to inject something in your arm. 

“What a wild introduction this is. First you come in with five soulmates, a Nexus group and one of them having Healing Touch, and as if that's not intriguing enough, you faint after a touch from Love Prints! So, very interesting!”

She returns to her seat as the haze ebbs away from your vision with the glowing purple paint on your torso.

“I guess it's true that all soul specialists are… enthusiastic .”

“Only on the right things, don't worry we don't bite.”

There's almost a manic look in her eyes as she stares at you with a fascination only seen in a mad geologist who had found a new and infinitely curious piece of history in the dirt. Seokjin pats your shoulders, squeezing it assuringly for the last time before he disappears out the door.

“So, how's this gonna go?”

Doctor Gwak Jihye was a woman with flat light brown hair almost the same height as you. There's narrow rectangle glasses sitting neatly on the bridge of her nose and a notable beauty mark placed on the apple of her right cheekbones. Black vine-like tattoos peaked out of her cream turtleneck, a soulmark you guessed once you saw the ring on her finger.

The band is as dark as the night yet gleaned like stars under the bright light of the room with three deep blue sapphires engraved on the front. A ring made from soul metal created and only used by the tethered. 

She wore the standard white coat of every doctor you’ve ever met with the exception of the detailed pin of two white strings knotted together inside a heart and a red cross placed in the middle of it all.

“We'll do the basic health checks, the measurements and all the like, nothing too difficult. Then we educate you on every soulmark you have. You are aware of what you have with the five of them, correct?”

She rapid fires and you're left agape, mouth closing and open as your brain catches up. The doctor raised an eyebrow and you nod. With that, she motions to the scales behind you as she stands. You followed the woman to the stadiometer placed next to the door. 

Once she was done taking your measurements down, you both returned to her desk where she asked you a few questions about your allergies and recent medical history. It was an easy procedure, almost boring. The ever so present exhaustion is still weighing your bones, you yawned. Staying awake felt like a challenge and you don't doubt she had noticed this when she placed down her board to open her drawer.

“You are feeling more exhausted than before, am I correct in assuming this?”

“Yes…?”

She hummed when she found what she was looking for and placed the thick white medicine bottle in front of you.

“This should help your body get used to the bonds whenever you touch Jimin or Taehyung. The exhaustion is normal since you live far from them but once you move in and are surrounded by your soulmates, you should feel more energized.”

Amoneuron , it reads on the label. Curious, you twist the lid open to see what might just be a hundred of blush pink colored round pills.

“With that out of the way, from what I've heard from Yoongi, you've researched every soulmark there is at one point in your life but I doubt that you don't have any questions,” She fished out the yellow folder under her board and opened it, not knowing how surprised you are to hear Yoongi’s involvement. “Anything you'd like to know about?”

Your mind takes you back to the empty search and countless ‘Did you mean…?’ questions on every result. Jimin and your marks never yielded any results, none in Naver and none in Google. 

You tried finding it in your books but none of them were ever close to the touch activated golden swirls and the feeling of being rejuvenated.

“I tried researching what could be Jimin and I’s soulmark but I couldn't find one, is it that rare of a mark?”

She nods. “ Healing touch , there's so little information of that type of mark since the last recorded case can be traced back to 1934.”

Your eyes widen, surprised by how rare of a mark you share with Jimin.

“Which meant if there were soul-link related sickness between you, I fear that we won't be much of help as we don't know much about Healing Touch other than mates who has it doesn't get hungry, thirsty nor need much sleep if they interacted enough,” She gauges your reaction, when she saw your confusion she continues. “By interacting enough, I don't mean hugs or hand holding, I mean kisses and sex.”

You began to cough violently, choking on your saliva at her bluntness, cheeks burning bright but she ignored you and continued.

“Hand holding and hugs can only guarantee better stamina and endurance, even being close enough can make the other have a bottomless energy. As this concerns a highly valued individual, our team is already attempting to acquire more information about Healing Touch but I don’t have an estimated time on when we’ll be ready to share our findings, please understand that we are also surprised by this mark’s sudden revival.” She smiled. “Anything else you'd like to ask?”

“Are Taehyung and Jimin's marks somehow similar? I remember feeling… rejuvenated whenever the both of them touched me but then got overstimulated.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“No, Taehyung’s touch shouldn’t affect you outside of the first touch nor should you be suffering from soulbond hyperactivity from both of them. When Seokjin had carried you in, what exactly happened beforehand?”

“When Taehyung hugged me again not too long ago, we experienced soulbond hyperactivity.”

“Huh.” Was all she replied with, hand scribbling furiously on her notes. You had the urge to sit up a little straight and take a peak at what she’s writing down so passionately but decided against it, fearing what you might learn from it.

“Any guesses on what could have caused this?”

“It's hard to say much for now since Healing Touch is a very rare mark. But I can hazard a guess and say that due to their similar nature being touch-activated marks and Healing Touch being as powerful as it is, it had influenced Love Print somehow.” 

If her words were anything to go by, If Jimin and your soulmark does greatly affect both your livelihoods by practically rendering you both immortals by eliminating the need for food, sleep, and water as long as the needed affection level is met; not to mention, as long as the both of you are close enough, exhaustion is nothing but a word.

And if Taehyung’s soulmark has evolved due to Healing Touch, then wouldn’t the benefits, at least the bare bones of them, extend to him as well?

You already sense the building headache you’re about to experience in the future with three—including Jungkook whose energy is already a thousand times more of a kid in a toy store—bouncy men with the energy of a toddler in a sugar rush. In advance, you began to pray internally for Namjoon, Sejin, and Seokjin’s sanity.

“It seems that I am due to share notes with the doctor who had interviewed Jimin,” She says as she slams close the cover of her journal with a smile. “This could lead to a breakthrough in the future, with both of your permissions, we would like to study your soulmark more intimately.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it but my soulmate might not share the sentiment. The company as well.”

“Your soulmarks could very well lead up to the discovery of the cure to an incurable disease, I doubt he would decline such a possibility.”

You don’t doubt the possibility of your soulmark being the answer to the long time issue of something as fatal as cancer or dementia but the prospect of being examined, had made you feel uncomfortable. To be under intense scrutiny and possibly put under a specific diet to tailor to their needs—especially when Jimin had only recently stopped caring about his body image—had made you more unwilling to participate.

You’d spare a few vials of blood since your bond can regenerate it back in record time but a prolonged trial is definitely a no.

“Why did it manifest now? After all those years, why now?” You ask abruptly, trying to change the subject. You hoped she would take the bait and luckily, she did with a defeated sigh.

The answer to your question is already solved, it was simple.

“As you know, once we hit the age of 16, the chances of meeting our soulmates goes up to 10% and will gain the same amount the next year will continue on till it hits a hundred on the 26th and the chances of manifesting a mark stops on the 27th,” You nod, feigning ignorance and she continues. “The Nexus connection had to wait for Jungkook to show which had put yours and the rest to a state of dormancy. So when he turned 21, with half a hundred chance, he finally got a mark and here we are.”

You stand and bow, not wanting to leave any free millisecond where she could try continuing to pressure you into agreeing into their research.

“Thank you so much for your insight, Dr. Gwak.”

She looked incredulous and surprised by your sudden actions before returning the gesture.

“It’s a pleasure to be able to foresee a unique connection such as yours, Ms. Y/n. I hope you all the best.”

With that, you leave the room in a haste and let out the biggest exhale once the door behind you closes.

You hear the soft murmurs of voice just around the corner where you guessed you’ll find everyone save for Namjoon who must’ve been called after you had been carried in by Seokjin. But when one door closes, another opens. There’s still a few things you’re due today, a talk with the inner circle of the company, talking with the legal team to figure out who else can know the connection outside of your Nexus, and how you’ll be continuing working as their make-up artist.

There’s a tug down the thread and you look down at your pinkie to see the line turn tangible and vibrant before a wave of concern floods your system.

Tentatively, you twirled the string around your finger and the headache fades. You watch as it glows brighter, livelier with both hosts touching it before tugging it back twice. Instantly, Yoongi responds with another. You expected the string to dim, for him to let go but it remained vibrant under both of your touch.

The dull ache at the back of your head returns.

“Are you the lady with the Healing Touch soulmark?”

You jumped back to see an old woman, around the age of sixty, peering up at you with a gentle smile playing on her lips. She dons the same white coat Dr. Gwak wears the same pin of a soul specialist on the lapel and her name tag displayed on her breast pocket.

Shin Sun-young , it reads.

“In my years of being a specialist, I've never seen so many souls connected to one so I'm sorry if I'm a bit much, I'm very curious how it must feel. Having one is already overwhelming for me, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling now.”

“Yeah it's a bit much sometimes… I had three of them touch me all at the same time and I almost fainted. I don't know how I can deal with it.”

“We have some medicines for that but I’m sure you already know that and have been prescribed right. It’ll dull up your senses till the first year then you can stop taking it.”

She pats your back as you both walk off the sides and you find your soulmates sitting obediently down the hall. Jimin was lying on one cluster of seats in front of the others with an arm over his eyes and the other pinched into a fist on top of his stomach while the rest of the boys squeezed together into the five seats on the opposite wall. 

You notice the missing presence of their eldest but shrugged it off, guessing that he must've wandered off to find the bathroom or a vending machine.

“I hope it goes well for you seven, I'm sure they'll treat you so well.”

Your head snaps to her. “Seven?”

“Oh? Am I wrong? I thought all of those boys are tethered to you. Forgive this old soul.”

A suspicious voice told you that she had intentionally guessed wrong to fish for information but you tampered it down, giving the curious woman the benefit of a doubt. Soul specialists have the reputation of being knowledge-driven crazy people with barely any other qualifying trait other than their unusual obsession with soulmates after all and this lady might just be one of the people that fits the bill.

“Hoseok and Jin, their eldest who has gone somewhere, aren't tethered to me. There's no sign of any marks manifesting and we just assumed the worst.”

You hated how you sounded so dejected. You must’ve sounded so greedy to the lady for wanting to have your seven friends to be yours, as if you even deserve Seokjin’s unfaltering love.

She hums. “Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Dear, everything in the world is advanced now. They could have their blood tested to see if there's a possibility that they're also tethered to you.”

You were reminded of the times where you began to dread your birthdays when you should've been celebrating, the desperation before the abrupt descend of defeat on your birthday this year when you finally realize that you weren't 

“How is that possible? Why now? We've had years of technological evolution but something like that only appears now? Where was this when I wanted to find out if I was—”

She sighs and puts a hand on your shoulder, effectively shutting you up. “Soulmates are spiritual deary, past technology and brains of yesterdays had difficulty in figuring out the hows and why it works. But now, I can assure you that we have finally found a way to find if you're really untethered or not.”

“Tha-that’s a thing?”

You turned around to find Seokjin on the opposite hall, carrying what seems to be a hundred snacks with two hands, surprise contorting his face. Crossing the distance in under two steps, he stared at the lady with hopeful eyes.

“Where can I have myself checked?”

The way his voice dripped with hope, with desperation of a man who had lost his way and finally found a chance of redemption, a new salvation to pour his attention to. Hearing it made your chest clench. But there was no testimony for their new found tech, there's no telling if they're actually telling the truth.

As much as you are curious as to what the result could be, you couldn't have Seokjin join the test all hopeful only to fall into a deeper hole if he found out that he's actually untethered.

Your heart won't be able to handle the absolute devastation that would follow.

“Jinnie—”

“You boys are in luck, we just had the machine set up last night and we’re looking for—”

“I’ll do it. Me and someone else.” 

As they began to talk about the technicalities of using the machine and partaking in their research, you found yourself standing there in shock. 

You already suspected Hoseok also shared the same sentiment Jin held but to hear him indirectly confirm them had your heart bottoming to the soles of your feet. The guilt that used to only stem from Jin and Taehyung's confession came back to you like a blow to the head.

Jin then briskly walked away, you followed to see him approach an increasingly concerned Hoseok who watched his hyung march up to him with an indistinguishable fire in his eyes.

“Hoba, I found a way.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Found a way… to what exactly?”

“They have the technology to figure out if we're actually untethered or not.”

Everyone's eyes widened. Jimin had woken up from his nap and turned his head to his hyungs, shocked by what he had heard. Taehyung's jaw hung open, looking around in bewilderment before he stood to walk around the rest of the boys and into the stunned Hoseok on the other side of the seats to engulf him in a hug.

Even Manager Sejin who has been talking to the lawyer he brought with him had turned to listen to the conversation.

“H-Hyung—”

“I've already talked to the doctor who will be overseeing our examination and all they ask of us is our blood then the resul—”

“No.”

Seokjin’s shine dims with the atmosphere as his smile falls. Taehyung pulls away, more astounded than he was before as he stares at him in disbelief.

“Hyung?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Seokjin stammers out in disbelief.

“What if it came out as negative still? Hyung, I've already accepted my status. I-I don't want to raise my hopes up only to come down to the same result.”

“It doesn't hurt to try Hoba,” Seokjin said softer this time as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Try with me, please . If it's negative at least we can lament together.”

Hoseok agreed not too long after, unable to say no to his hyung, not when he's begging and pleading. Seokjin led him back to the soul specialist to have their blood taken. You had waited for them next to Yoongi on the seat Hoseok had occupied earlier. It's only 10am at that point yet your energy tank is drier than the sahara and non-existent as a stress-free day for you. When the two returned, you were slumped down on Yoongi's shoulder half asleep.

The exhausting day didn't end there.

After your soulmarks were registered, you all went to BigHit for a meeting and you thanked the high heavens no one from your department had seen you enter the conference room with the boys and a lawyer.

Minhyuk had asked you why there'll be a company party at dinner but no birthday boy will be showing up. You lied and told him that Jungkook’s going back to Busan to celebrate his birthday with his family. Jihye had also questioned your absence and you had apologized to her, knowing how often you've been going for leaves these past few weeks.

She says it's fine but you still feel bad anyways.

The meeting was short yet it felt like centuries has passed until you were freed. Just a couple of rules being laid like you being unable to handle Jimin and Taehyung anymore, the living situation where you'd be moved to the Bangtan dorms, and who else would know about the connections between you and the boys—they had approved letting your three friends know once you reasoned that they'll be able to save you once people began to question your aversion to touching Jimin and Taehyung in the future.

By the time you had trudge into your room, you were beyond the word exhaustion. Brain far too fogged up you to pick up on the blaring red lights in your mind as the world swirled around you and you fell face first into your bed.

You chalked it up to your sleepless night and the emotional stress you've gone through these past few days so imagine your shock when you wake up and find yourself in a sterile and white room whose ceiling lights burned your eyes the moment they opened again.

It was so bright and so white, you remember passing out before you came here and all you could feel now was bliss, as if the heavy baggage you've collected from last week and last night had been lifted off your form.

As if you were in heaven .

“G-God?”

“No, it's Min Yoongi. Open your eyes, brat.”

The haze clears at his gruff voice and you began to hear the stable beeping echoing in the hollow room. There's a heavy weight wounded loosely around your waist as well on your legs, turning your head, you were faced with the peaceful but almost colorless face of Jimin, his usually plush pink lips now pale and chaffed as his body trembled next to you; you were shaking too.

Turning to Yoongi to ask him what happened, you find your hand entangled with his. His impassive face now laced with concern and there were dark bags hanging under his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping for a while.

“What the fuck happened?”

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer

[jay-reads-the-good-shit]

I should've taken a shower but instead I spent all last night and all this morning binging this whole series and OH MY GOD YOU GUYS.

OH MY GOD.

This was absolutely incredible. The pacing is perfect, the smut is HOT, like I didn't know I needed bodyswapping sex until I read it but like. 🥵🥵🥵 ya know? And then ending!!! Is heartbreaking but also completely understandable and I will dream of it getting resolved so my beautiful foursome will live happily ever after 🙏🏻

HARROW MY BELOVED YOURE BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING AND SO FUCKING TALENTED AND CREATIVE AND HATS OFF TO YOU FOR ACTUALLY FINISHING A SERIES (that's a hard thing to do in this day and age) I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Dollhouse

Hoseok’s job is simple: He enters the host’s body, he confiscates or terminates the target, and he gets back into his own body by dinnertime, easy peasy. Until a client comes along who becomes as obsessed with his life as he becomes with theirs, and the lines between their realities begin to blur.

💛 Hoseok x Namjoon, Jungkook x Yoongi, Hoseok x Namjoon x Yoongi x Jungkook, Hoseok x Taehyung x Jimin

💛 word count: 178.3k words

💛 warnings: hired assassin au, sci-fi, body swapping, graphic violence, infidelity, body dysphoria, lgbtq, smut, fluff, angst, poly, nsfw, smut, 21+ | assassins & hit men, mind meld, violence (murder, abduction, main character serious injury), weapons (knives, guns, poison), emotional infidelity, domestic fluff, jungkook is trans, self-medication (binge drinking, recreational drug use [mdma & acid]), smut (all of the characters switch. some top more in some relationships and some bottom more, but everyone switches enough that i cannot define their dynamics perfectly. oral sex & blowjobs, anal sex, daddy kink, dacryphilia/crying during sex, drunken confessions & a healthy game of spin the bottle, MMM threesome, MMMM foursome, learning to eat pussy, dubcon (consent under false pretenses), unhappy & unresolved ending.

💛 note: although real cities and occasionally neighborhoods are named, everything described is made up. similar likenesses with cities, buildings, etc. are a coincidence; i have never been to any of these cities and i am not making any attempt to accurately describe them. 

💛 check out the playlist!

💛 series beta read by @neoneunnajimin​

💛 posted ​jan 2022 - present | read on ao3

Welcome to Dollhouse! This has sci-fi elements dealing with shit that I am only pretending to understand, so please don’t look into it too deep, okay? We’re all here for the body swapping and selfcest.

INDEX:

1: Easy peasy | 2.5k words

2: I hope it makes me feel alive | 2.6k words

3: Your secret is safe with me | 2.9k words

4: Check in and recalibrate | 2.7k words

5: Miss me, baby? | 4.1k words

6: I need to have you | 3.7k words

7: Vines of guilt | 6.3k words

8: Two bottles of wine was a mistake | 6.8 words

9: Why can’t I stop this? | 4.4k words

10: We caught you—hook, line, and sinker | 5k words

11: On the contrary, we can do exactly as I wish | 4.4k words

12: A fantastic fucking waste of time | 5k words

13: I figured you’d become obsessed | 6.5k words

14: A tangle of bodies | 7.9k words

15: Care to make the first move? | 7.9k words

16: Everything slips away to black | 10.1k words

17: Good thing for confidentiality agreements, yeah? | 10.7k words

18: Namjooning | 10.7k words

19: Foolishness often is (poetic) | 6.8 words

20: Why is it always him? | 8.8k words

21: Everything feels too heavy | 9.7k words

22: No better way to break in a new body | 11.1k words

23: Difficult to reconcile | 7.6k words

24: Are you here alone? | 15.1k words

25: Chasing ghosts | 13.4k words

The end! 💛

tag list: @codeinebelle, @dasexydevitt13, @giriiboyy, @jminssiii​ @m1sss1mp​​, @mgthecat​ @moonleeai, @spookyminyunki​ ✨ comment or dm to be added to the tag list!

💛 image of hoseok & jungkook in the banner inspired by junji ito’s tomie.

Dollhouse is copyright 2022-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. Don’t be a silent reader! I love to hear from you!

[olderthannetfic]

Opinion on the comments in some of the the @ao3topshipsbracket polls: a wildly popular ship is not the same as one that had an actual impact on fandom history. Most popular ships have little to no impact outside their own fandom. Which isn’t to say that ships can’t have impact on their own fandom history, just that they don’t have much impact on general fandom history as a whole.

I understand that the polls aren’t actually measuring fandom history but this got me thinking about what has actually and I think these are the ones:

Spirk - origin of slash fandom shipping and laid the groundwork for fandom/shipping in general

MSR - responsible for the term ‘shipping’ and was the driving force behind the beginning of fandom/shipping on the internet and the creation of fanfiction.net

BTVS - (unfortunately) gave rise to the idea of being ‘anti’ something and ship wars

Harry Potter - most affected fandom on livejournal by the censorship which led to the creation of ao3

Thoughts? I couldn’t think of another fandom/ship that has huge impacts outside of their own fandom.

--

Strikethrough made people more eager for AO3, but the original inspiration was a for-profit fic archive made by venture capitalists.

The X-Files' big archive was Gossamer. Was MSR really influential in the creation of FFN? I don't remember that.

What ships have a big impact really depends on era and how you're looking at things. K/S and MSR are the obvious ones from long after the fact, yes.

Starsky/Hutch was what really split Media Fandom from literary SF fandom. Star Trek started the split, but it was people getting into a buddy cop show that made it clear that fanfic zine types weren't just about science fiction anymore, not even "mass media" SF in place of book SF.

Bodie/Doyle was the moment people stopped being media fans and started being Slash Fandom specifically. The US fandom had barely even seen the show: they were there for the slash zines.

Jim/Blair fandom gave us sentinel/guide AUs. The Sentinel as a canon sure as fuck didn't.

Ranma fandom set the pattern for every dumb "which girl will he end up with?" fight in anime fandom forever after.

IDK if we can blame 1x2 as opposed to Gundam Wing fandom for inspiring people to many other incomprehensible math equation ships in every anime fandom with dumb number names.

Popslash popped a bunch of prudes' RPF cherries, then LOTRiPS did, then J2 did, then hockey did, then BTS did.

Free! and then Yuri on Ice started the long slide from anime fandoms mostly refusing to leave FFN to newer anime fandoms being on AO3. YOI also lured a lot of people into anime for the first time.

Wangxian got a bunch of "Ewww, no anime ever! Western fandoms 5eva!" people into Asian fandoms at long last. (Whether this was a good thing is a matter of opinion. Hahaha.)

--

I really think it depends on frame of reference.

[marblemoonstones]

🩵 catharsis ~ chapter four

main masterlist

series masterlist

pairing: bts ot7 x reader

genre: collegestudentreader!au 

warnings: ❗️any characters in the story have nothing to do with their real life counterparts❗️f reader, reader with glasses, reader gets yelled at briefly, use of word bitch

word count: ~4.4k

a/n: sorry everyone, it’s been a while! been busy, but i hope you enjoy reading 🤎

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next couple weeks passed by in a blur, and before I knew it it was almost time for school to start up again. I’m going into my junior year at Seoul National University (sorry, super basic college) and am majoring in Education, as I want to be a teacher like Namjoon. But, unlike Namjoon, I don’t want to teach high schoolers. I want to be an elementary school teacher. (Sorry, I know it’s a pretty big time skip but I wanted to actually get to the college scenes lol)

The boys convinced me (more like begged me) to stay with them for school and said that “Your presence is payment enough!” (Minus Hoseok of course, as we’re still not on good terms for whatever reason) I finally relented after seeing the prices for dorms. Why were they so high for broke college students? Through these few weeks I have gotten to know the boys better.

Namjoon and I have gotten close because of our similarity in careers. We both are avid learners and want to help others learn and have bonded over many cups of tea. I know that I can go to him for any help with my schoolwork, and he says he will come to me for ideas because I am “younger and know what’s hip these days.” We also both love to read and have exchanged books frequently. He is more of a science fiction and fantasy type reader while I adore romance books (again, sorry if you don’t like these types of books). While I admit that his books are fascinating, I still prefer my cheesy, k-drama worthy books. There’s nothing better than us two sitting on my balcony reading all afternoon with some treats Jin or I baked.

Jin and I have become better friends through our cooking and baking. He is a master chef and much better than I will ever be, but it’s still fun to learn from him. It often makes me wonder why he is an actor and not a cook, but people can have more than one avid interest. My baking skills are modest at best, but I do still love to make different types of cookies as my mom taught me and to make cute mini lunchbox cakes for the boys to take to their work for a sweet treat. 

More often than not I catch Yoongi looking at my treats longingly so I make more and send them with him to work. He is especially fond of my coffee cookies as I found him secretly eating them as a midnight snack one night. Yoongi and I have a mutual understanding where if we both need to relax for second and just breathe, we’ll seek out each other. I sometimes sit in his studio, just zoning out and giving myself a minute. And he sometimes will come find me in my room and just lay down next to me as I continue watching my show. These moments make me feel content.

Times that I do not feel content are whenever I’m with Hoseok. I genuinely want to at least be acquaintances, but he seems to want to be enemies forever. I try to reach out but every time he ignores me. More often than not he finds some excuse to not be in the room with me. I know the boys have noticed, but they haven’t said anything to me about it. I can only hope that with time he and I will eventually be able to tolerate each other. 

With Jimin it has been a little harder to connect, but we eventually got to the point where we are now. While I’m not as close to him as the maknaes or even Yoongi, we still have a good bond. It all started when I asked if I could use the dance studio in the house (rich people, am I right?) for fun. I danced all through high school at a recreational studio and I enjoy it occasionally to keep me exercised. I was stretching when Jimin walked in and asked if he could watch. I was nervous at first but then once I got started I fell into my own world. Jimin applauded afterwards and I bowed, embarrassed. We both then danced together and that’s how our friendship started. 

My friendship with the youngest two grew during those couple of weeks. After the shopping trip they decided that we were now a ‘trio of trouble’ and that we were besties. I’ll admit, sometimes I did feel a bit like I was third-wheeling them but for the most part it was great to have genuine friends. Sure, I had friends but they were mostly college friends that I didn’t see outside of school. But with Tae and Kook I felt that I could truly be myself. Endless hours of binging movies, playing video games, and doing stupid challenges/dares kept me entertained until my first day back. 

Which is today. I’m not nervous, but I always get a small pit of dread in my stomach. I only have two classes today, Foundations of Education and Psychology (not me stealing these class names off a random college website haha). Foundations of Ed is in late morning, then I have a short break before Psych which is early afternoon. I have these classes three times a week, but they’re my only classes on those days. 

I roll out of bed and rub my eyes before grabbing my glasses groggily. I knock on Jungkook and I’s shared bathroom and don’t get a response so I turn the knob and no one’s in there. I know today is also Jungkook’s first day of senior year but I’m fairly certain that he has a class around the same time as me. I wonder why he’s not up yet? Knowing him he overslept. That boy needs to learn to get a better sleep schedule. I lock both connecting doors and then carefully place my glasses on the counter. After showering I hop out, put my glasses on (bad vision is a curse, and this author knows the struggle, trust me, but at least glasses/contacts exist) and after drying off I change. 

I put on jean shorts and a pink shirt, and after going into my bedroom I grab my backpack and double check that I have all of my supplies. A couple notebooks, binders, and of course a pencil pouch that’s all stocked up. Notebook paper as well as folders are also neatly lined up. I zip it up and then make my way downstairs. 

Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi are all at their respective jobs. Jin is taking a break from acting, so he’s mostly here and Taehyung has a shoot later in the afternoon so I know he is also around. 

Sure enough, Jin’s cooked me a ‘back to school breakfast,’ which is super sweet of him. 

“Thank you so much Jin! You really didn’t have to do this,” I say to him.

“Of course I did! It you and our maknae’s first day back so you deserve a special breakfast,” Jin replies. “Speaking of, where is the little brat? He shouldn’t be sleeping because he has to get ready and take you both to school!” 

“He’s still sleeping,” Taehyung says, walking down the stairs.

“Ugh, that kid will be the death of me. I’ll go get him. Eat up!” Jin goes upstairs, mumbling under his breath about how annoying Jungkook is.

I laugh, then sit down with Taehyung and start eating. Taehyung grins his boxy smile and says, “I wonder if Jungkookie will be late on his first day. If he is, I can take you to school.”

“I don’t think that Jin will let Kook be late,” I say, thinking of the father-like eldest.

“True. He’ll probably drag Jungkook by his hair if that means he gets up,” Taehyung says, laughing.

About ten minutes later a weary looking Jungkook and an irritated Jin come walking down the stairs.

“See, this is why you need to be more like y/n! She gets up on time and is actually prepared for school,” Jin scolds.

“Yeah yeah whatever hyung,” Jungkook says sleepily, sitting down at the table and eating a few bites of the now cold breakfast. 

“Don’t ‘whatever hyung’ me, you have to promise that whenever you have school you’ll actually be ready,” Jin says.

“Okay fine I promise. Y/n you ready to go?” Jungkook says, standing up from the table and going to get his shoes on.

“Yep,” I reply, going to put on my white converse.

“Bye! Have a good first day!” Jin and Taehyung say as we leave. 

Jungkook drives a nice sedan today instead of one of the rich luxurious cars they normally drive.

“Are you excited?” I ask Jungkook, “You’re almost done with school!”

“I’m excited to be done with it,” Jungkook agrees. We pull up and he parks then we get out and get ready to head to our respective classes. 

“Well have fun with your Foundations of Ed class. You don’t need a ride home after, right?” Jungkook asks me.

I shake my head. “Nope. I’m going to chill here through lunch until my Psych class then I’ll take the bus home.” 

“You know you can call any of us to take you home right? We wouldn’t mind,” Jungkook says. 

I know they wouldn’t care but I don’t want to bother them with me. 

“Oh, you’re all busy people so don’t worry about it! Here come some of your friends so I’d better go.” There are a couple guys and girls who are walking up to Jungkook. 

“Hey Jungkook!” 

“Good to see you bro!”

“How was your summer?” 

“Who’s this?”

The last question comes from a snobby looking girl. Her inky black hair is up in a high ponytail and she looks at me with disdain. 

“Oh, this is y/n. She’s the one who’s staying with me and the boys for a while,” Jungkook says, introducing me. 

“Hi y/n, I’m Felix.” He waves at me and I wave back.

“I’m Jackson,” says the next boy, grinning at me. 

“I’m Hwasa,” says the girl next to the snobby one. 

“And I’m Haneul,” says snobby girl. 

“Nice to me you all,” I say.

“So you’re the girl who’s too poor to stay at a dorm!” Haneul says sweetly.

“Haneul,” Felix says through gritted teeth, “That’s not true.”

“I’m sure it is though, Felix. Isn’t that right, y/n?” Haneul now has the biggest fake smile I’ve ever seen. 

“Oh, well I supposed so,” I say, deflated at the thought that the boys think I’m just a ‘girl who’s too poor to stay at a dorm.’

“Um, y/n that’s not what-“ Jungkook starts, sensing my change in mood.

“I’ve got to get to class! Bye everyone, it was nice meeting you.” I interrupt Jungkook. Turning on my heel, I swiftly walk away from the group, hearing Haneul whisper under her breath, “I told you she was poor.” 

I find my building and classroom and walk in. It’s a decently sized room with partner desks in neat rows. Some students are already sitting in desks chatting with each other.

I find a seat in the back right corner by the window so I can see outside. I can only hope no one will sit by me, but that seems to not be the case as a couple minutes later a tired looking boy asks if he can sit next to me. I say yes and he flops into the seat and lays his head on his arms. 

“Oh, by the way my name’s Seungmin,” he mumbles before closing his eyes.

I smile, amused at his tiredness and turn my attention to the professor as she walks in. 

“Good morning class and welcome to Foundations of Education. We will be learning the basics of education and teaching in this class. My name is Professor Shin. Now, let’s take roll.” As she starts calling names, I turn my attention to my sleeping deskmate. I wonder if I should wake him up? 

“Choi y/n?” 

“Here,” I say.

Eventually she gets to Seungmin. 

“Kim Seungmin?” 

I nudge his elbow but he doesn’t stir. Then I poke him. Hard. This makes his head shoot up and then sees everyone staring at him. 

“Oh, uh, here.” 

“Mr. Kim, if you could please refrain from sleeping in class that would be much appreciated,” Professor Shin says with an annoyed look on her face. She then continues on with attendance. 

“Hey, are you okay? You look super exhausted,” I say to Seungmin, seeing how his eyes are red and have dark circles underneath them. 

“I’m fine I just stayed up way too late last night,” he says.

I nod then turn back to the professor, who is now passing out a slyllabus. I take a deep breath then focus for the rest of the class.

After class I bid goodbye to a still sleepy Seungmin and head out to get lunch. There are picnic tables around campus so I grab something to eat then go sit at an empty one. I enjoy the breeze through my hair and the peacefulness of the trees. Until I see someone coming up to me out of the corner of my eye. I look and it’s Hwasa and Jackson. 

“Hey y/n, can we sit here?” She asks.

“Sure.” 

They sit and pull out their own lunches.

“We’re sorry about Haneul this morning,” Jackson says after chewing and swallowing, “She can be a bit…blunt sometimes.”

“Who’re we kidding Jackson, she’s blunt all of the time,” Hwasa says with an eye roll. 

I appreciate these two apologizing for their friend’s action and like them immediately. 

“You guys really don’t have to apologize. I mean, I am poor enough to not be able to afford a dorm,” I say.

“Even if it’s true, that doesn’t mean she needs to be so bitchy about it, and besides, dorms are expensive for anyone,” Hwasa points out.

“Can we not talk about Haneul now please? I’m trying to eat,” Jackson complains. Hwasa and I laugh and we change the subject to school and finish our lunches. 

“Thanks for letting us join you for lunch y/n,” Hwasa says as we clean up and throw away our trash. 

“Of course. It’s nice to meet some of Kook’s friends!” I say, genuinely glad to have made more friends.

“Aww, you called him Kook. Are you two super close? You can tell us. We’ve been his best friends for ages now,” Jackson says.

I want to trust them, so I reply “I guess you could say that. We definitely have gotten closer these past couple of weeks.” 

“Ooh, have you now?” I hear a horrible voice behind me. Of course it’s Haneul. 

“You see, you may have gotten closer to Jungkook but I’ve known him since he was little. No one knows him better than me,” Haneul says, trying to intimidate me. 

It’s true that I still know little about the boys’ background and upbringings, but I am still surprised that Jungkook would hang out with someone like Haneul. The boys also haven’t mentioned her at all.

“You only hung out because your parents were good friends with his,” Hwasa explains with yet another eye roll. 

“Are you jealous Haneul?” Jackson teases, enjoying the glare in Haneul’s eyes.

“No, of course not. Why would I be jealous of a stupid nobody like her?” 

Wow, straight to the point. I can try to ignore it, but I’m not sure if I can deal with another person hating me. Hoseok is more than enough.

“Excuse me, I need to get to my next class.” I leave as gracefully as I can but my body still reacts to her calling me stupid. I take a deep breath and try to calm my shaking hands and racing heart. Eventually I am calm enough to walk into my next class, but my hands still tremble. 

I step into my Psychology hall, a big airy room made for a lot of students. There’s only a couple people in there as I am early because I was escaping from Haneul. 

I take a seat near the middle because I want to be able to see the board. Soon the hall starts filling up with students. A girl sits to my left and eventually a guys sits on my right. Neither of them look at me and continue to talk to their friends around them. 

The professor comes in, a kind looking man. He introduces himself as Professor Kim (so many Kims) and starts to talk. The class goes by quickly and then I’m free. First day of school done. I make my way out of the crowded hall and back into the sunlight. I check my phone and see that I have a couple missed text from Jungkook.

I’m sorry that Haneul said those things. I know ur not poor and I apologize for her words.

Y/n? Ur probably in class, but I just wanted to remind u that any of us would be happy to take u home after ur last class.

I smile at his Haneul text, but text him back to tell him that no one has to take me home.

I’m a big girl Kook, I can take myself home. But thanks :) 

I am about to round the corner of the building when I hear Haneul talking. I stop when I hear that she’s talking about me. 

“Honestly y/n probably just wants the boys money. She’s just a gold digger that acted all pitiful and the boys are too sweet to say no to her. I feel bad for her because as soon as the boys figure this out she’s going to be kicked out of their house. Actually that’ll be super funny!” 

I hear tittering laughter and turn around to go the other way, eyes slightly glassy. Is this what everyone thinks? That I’m a gold digger? If they think that, then I won’t accept anymore gifts from the boys. Them letting me stay is more than enough and I don’t want them to hear these rumors because it will impact their reputation. 

I blink the tears away and then continue to the bus stop. I check my phone to see that Jungkook has texted me again. 

Look, I know u can handle urself but I don’t want anything happening to u. Hobi-hyung is free now and I sent him to pick you up. Just this once bc it’s the first day ok? :) 

Great. I can’t let Hoseok see me like this. I sniff then blink and make sure I look okay before seeing a car pull up that has Hoseok in the driver’s seat. I text Jungkook back.

Ok just this once but no more after today Kook 

I go up to the car and open the passenger door, climbing in to a stoic Hoseok.

“Hi Hoseok. Thanks for picking me up. You don’t ever have to do this again. I told Jungkook I will be taking the bus for the rest of the year.”

“That kid didn’t even think that I have dance today, so I’m taking you to my studio. We can then go home together afterwards with Jimin,” Hoseok says with his usual coldness.

Oh boy. Going to his work? This is great. Just great.

The rest of the car ride is silent except for the light music of the radio. 

We pull up to a modern looking building that says Epiphany. I get out and follow Hoseok inside. The receptionist greets us and then Hoseok tells me to wait out here.

“My class ends in an hour and so does Jimin’s. We’ll leave after that so just wait here patiently.” He then leaves and I’m left to sit in the rather comfy chairs. The receptionist smiles at me and tells me to tell her if I need anything. 

There are two big glass windows and I can see into the studios. I see Jimin in one of them, leading stretches to younger looking children. I smile as they talk and laugh while doing their splits. I look to the other one and there’s Hoseok leading some college looking dancers in stretches too. 

The front door swings open and in walks none other than Hwasa and Haneul. 

“Oh my gosh, we’re late! Let’s go before Hobi kills us!” Hwasa says hurriedly, rushing to the studio with Hoseok in it. “Hi y/n!” She calls as she darts last me. 

Haneul is in less than a rush than Hwasa. “Oh hello y/n. What are you doing here? Surely you aren’t here for class? Only the best of the best come here.” 

“I’m just waiting for Hoseok and Jimin to finish their classes,” I say, trying to be polite even though I heard her hurtful words earlier. 

“Oh you can’t even drive? That’s rough. Or is it that you don’t have a car?” Haneul asks with a look of pity on her face.

“I can drive perfectly fine, but I don’t have a car as of right now. Anyways, aren’t you late to your class?” I ask as nicely as I can.

“Oh yeah, guess I’d better head there. Have fun sitting!” Haneul bounces away and I sigh. She’s everywhere, so I guess I better get used to her and her rude words. 

I turn my attention back to Jimin’s class. He’s leading the kids through the five ballet positions, walking around and fixing their legs and arms. His cheerful and encouraging smile makes me smile, and I can feel my heart flutter a bit. But, just as every time before, I push it away and remind myself that the boys are off limits. They all have each other and are happy. You’re just going after the first attractive people that you see y/n. And it just so happens to be your housemates. I can’t help that these are the kindest and most beautiful boys I’ve ever seen. They’re strictly friends to me and will stay that way. 

I look at Hoseok’s class, seeing that they’re now done warming up and move on to dancing hip-hop and free styling. While most of the class is good, my eye is drawn to Hoseok. This makes sense, as he is the teacher, but for some reason I can’t tear my eyes away. He looks up as he’s dancing and our eyes lock on each other. I quickly look away, my cheeks burning as he probably doesn’t like me staring at him. But then I see that his eyes are turned away too, and there is a hint of a blush on his cheeks. Or it could just be that he’s tired and sweaty from dancing. 

After both classes finish, I stand and stretch my arms from sitting for an hour. Hwasa comes out of the locker room and asks me, “What did you think? Were you impressed by my amazing dance skills?” 

I laugh and reply, “Yes of course. I didn’t know that you could dance like that!”

“Well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know,” Hwasa teases, “Like how you don’t know that Hobi was staring at you during class?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I say, dropping my voice to a whisper-yell, “He wasn’t looking at me! He hates me! And he’s dating six other boys!”

“Whatever they all like girls too…Unfortunately I have to go now, but give me your number and text me if any updates happen!” Hwasa swiftly grabs my phone and types her number in it, winks, and then saunters out. 

That girl! Thinking Hoseok was staring at me…that’s ridiculous. She’s crazy. But I think that we’re starting a great friendship. And the boys also like girls? That’s new to me.

“Hi y/n! What did you think of our class?” That awful voice again. Haneul.

I force a smile before saying, “It was great! You all are so talented.” 

“Why, thank you. I like to think so. I’m sure you’re good at something, right? Even poor people have some use in this world.” 

This girl. Honestly, if poor is the worst insult that she can come up with, it could be much worse.

“Look, Haneul-“

“Did you just call y/n poor?” A voice behind us asks. We both look to see Hoseok, standing with his arms crossed and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. 

Haneul smirks, and I know that she is thinking that Hoseok is going to agree with her. She’s probably right.

“Yes, I did call y/n poor. I mean, come on Hobi, we all know that she’s just leeching off of the boys and your money and that-“

“Haneul, even if I don’t particularly like someone that doesn’t mean I talk bad about them and call them names to their face and behind the back. That’s just rude. Don’t be a bitch.” 

Haneul is shocked and storms out of the studio. 

I turn to Hoseok to thank him. 

“Thanks Hoseok. I really appreciate it, and I’m sorry-“

“Stop apologizing. No one deserves to be bullied by others,” he says bluntly. 

“Look, can I just ask you one question? Why do you hate me?” I burst out, frustrated because he defended me but still is coldly talking to me.

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t like change,” Hoseok says, sighing. 

“Okay, well I just wish that you would’ve told me beforehand. I’m sorry for being change in your life and-“

“God y/n! Stop apologizing!” Hoseok shouts. I avert my eyes to the ground, as this is my usual tactic when someone yells at me. I try not to think of my ex. 

I hear Hoseok apologize, low and slow. 

Then he says, quieter, “Look, I don’t hate you and I wish that you would stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault. Let’s get this out of the way; we may not like each other but let’s try to get along for the boys’ sake. Does that sound okay?” 

I take a deep breath and nod. 

“Sure, Hoseok.”

He does a small smile for the first time at me and holds out his hand. 

“Getting along?”

I shake it. 

“Getting along.”

a/n: i was going to write more, but i thought it was better to end here! looks like y/n and hobi are finally going to maybe get along! what do you think of haneul? and stray kids, hwasa, and jackson cameo! much love y’all. have an amazing day or night wherever you are 🫶🏼🩷

[longstoryoongi]

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© longstoryoongi / romy, 2023. — last updated: april 3rd, 2023

[nanamismoonchild]

prev: chapter 2: taking ass and kicking names

→chapter 3: last name

→ pairing: demon! ot7 bts x rebel!poc OC named Afternoon

→ genre/au: science fiction, dystopian au, thriller, smut, fluff, angst, enemieis to lovers, enemies to friends.

→ chapter summary: afternoon tells her team the decision and most of them don’t take too well to it. 

→ rating: 18+  

→ wc: 6k

→warnings: misuse of authority, fighting, mention of  testing, fighting, panic/anxiety attack

→ author’s note:  this fic relies heavily on comments and asks!  it also doesn’t have a poll at the end. But what do y’all think Aliah did? also, im hoping to get another chapter out this month to make up for october and november. :D

if you would like to be tagged for this fic, please send an ask or comment below!  Or tell the ghost that’s behind you to send the message.

She was a little girl, eleven years old now, running through the forest of Disturbia. She could stop  if she wanted to but she had one goal.  She came to the clearing where the Moon settled on a specific spot, shining its glow on seven boys, who looked no older than she was. But she knew that was a lie. 

They huddled close, whispering to themselves. Plotting maybe.  

They couldn’t sense her. Couldn’t spot her from her place in the shadows.

If it was one thing the group had taught her, it was how to hide, how to run. 

She wanted to creep closer to hear what they were saying; however, the children back at the lodge were waiting for her cue. Waiting for the  girl who willingly stayed in Disturbia to save those who wouldn’t have made it to day two.  

Her goal of finding her parents was the only thing keeping her here. She had looked to only fail multiple times. Whoever owned this place hid them well. Or had already done what was promised.

Afternoon had seen enough.  She turned and prepared herself to make the long  run back to the lodge.  She halted as umber eyes  pierced through her own. She didn’t get to  scream as he pushed her into the open clearing, out of the shadows, falling on the soft grass. 

She squealed, totally unlike herself, but she had been caught off guard. “Ji-” 

“You should know better than to sneak around here, child,” the boy interrupted her.  His soft voice hid the malice that laced his words.  

Afternoon whimpered as the boy stalked towards her.  This one was the smallest of the group, but he was just as menacing and powerful as his brethren.  

The others had taken notice of them and were silently making their way over to surround her. She was trapped. 

Good.

She kicked out aiming for his privates, but he had anticipated this maneuver–it was what she always did.  He grabbed her leg and easily flipped her over onto her stomach. 

Grunting, she leapt forward, tucking her legs so that she became a ball and free-rolled. A difficult maneuver that had been perfected with practice. Afternoon rolled until she became dizzy.  Releasing herself from the roll, she sprawled on the other side of the clearing.  The group of boys stared in shock–one of them was struggling to keep himself from laughing. 

It may not have been the prettiest tuck and roll, but now Afternoon was getting exactly what she wanted. 

They were distracted for a little while. 

Afternoon schooled her ears  to listen for the tell-tale signs of running.  She could hear them in the distance, not too far from the clearing. Her hearing was getting better it seemed. They could hear them too. Better than she could.  

“We have children escaping, Jin.”

The eldest, Afternoon had learned, simply shrugged, never taking his eyes away from Afternoon’s. 

“I think our bigger problem is with us. Let them escape. They’ll be back sooner or later. It’s this one we need to worry about now.”

If looks could kill, she’d be dead ten times over now. The scalding looks they were giving her were enough to make her wish she had run this time. 

He was handsome. He would have had women and men crawling to lick the dirt off his feet if he wasn’t a brooding asshole. Lips full and red scowled in annoyance as he glared at Afternoon who tried her best not to cower under him. 

She understood that because of her actions  they were constantly under scrutiny from whoever bossed them around. They were puppets as much as she was a prisoner. 

Not that she really gave a damn. 

“How many times are we going to go through this?” Jin tried to conceal his anger but was failing terribly. 

She didn’t answer. She would never stop so long as they kept bringing innocent children to this place. She didn’t like what they did to her. At all. But it was a sacrifice that she had decided to make only a year ago.  

The boy next to him, who Afternoon thought looked more like a vampire than a demon, tsked. His pale skin had a blue tint thanks to the moonlight.  Unlike his brothers, his eyes were the most feline. A lion watching his prey’s every move.  Out of all the seven, Afternoon thought he was the scariest and paid extra attention to him. 

If he caught any of the children…she shivered. 

She stayed quiet as she usually did. As long as their focus was on her, the escaping children would be alright. 

They just needed a few more minutes.

“Jungkook, grab the girl and take her to the Room.”

Afternoon’s eyes widened. Shit. 

The Room meant more tests. 

She screamed and scratched at Jungkook’s face. He was the second biggest and strongest of his group. He was also the least demonic of the group. Bionic brown eyes stared lazily ahead while Afternoon was thrown over his titanium shoulder. Afternoon aimed for his jugular but was met with a painful throbbing in her  hand. His body on his left side was mostly a mind of titanium. A metal that Afternoon knew from personal experience was enough to knock her out for days. 

Whatever tests they ran in the Room made someone less human.  And every time she went, she felt herself 

Falling…

Falling…

Falling…

Every single time.

Waking up was one of Afternoon’s poorest skills. Her dad had called it “ghetto,” and her mom had chastised him for labeling anything as “ghetto.” Then they would argue about what to make for breakfast. Pancakes or waffles? Eggs or sausage? Or maybe eggs and sausage?

She found herself smiling at the memory of her parents before clearing it away in her head. 

Thinking about her parents hurt. But sometimes, she couldn’t help wanting to see them smiling and laughing. Memories of the good days. 

But as always, she couldn’t change the past. She had to focus on her future. 

Aliah was still sound asleep. She could never wake up with the chickens.  She snuck a glance out of their peep-hole called a window and saw it was still dark out. Sunrise wouldn’t be for another two hours, unfortunately. But they started their days early and ended them late. 

Turning over to stare at her bare wall, she sighed. Aliah had given her a difficult decision. One day that had made her sleep restless. 

In the end, though, Afternoon couldn’t take her. Like the chief said, this was her mission and only hers. She believed she knew why the commander had put so much emphasis on Afternoon going alone. 

Those  eyes flashed in her mind for a brief second. Similar to someone from her past who could control and morph into anyone he pleased.  Whenever he controlled someone, he would lose control at times when the person fought for their mind back. They always lost so it happened quickly. 

She felt a migraine forming behind her eyes.

What she was thinking was speculation. She didn’t need to dwell on it and cause herself more stress. Neither of the demons couldn’t have crossed the invisible boundary without alerting any of the agents. 

She could hear signs of her team waking up. The flush of a toilet, the sound of a sink running (and not turning off), some giggles and whispers.  That meant she had to end her thoughts and begin her day. 

Yanking the pillow from under her head, she tossed it at her roommate. When she only got a surprised snore back, she grabbed a sandal and threw it at her dangling arm. Finally, Aliah started blinking her eyes open. 

“Afternoon,” Aliah moaned. “I swear to fucking gods if you don’t stop throwing shit at me, I’ll walk the dog with you.”

“And if you don’t wake the hell up, I’ll…”  she trailed off, trying to come up with something sassy, “make sure the demons bite ya hand.”

“Lame ass.”

“Loud snoring ass. Sounding like Bigfoot. Get the hell up.”

Both of the girls sat up and commenced their daily routine. First Aliah looked in the mirror and fussed over her braids. She was going to need them redone soon.  Then, she’d let Afternoon look at her bird’s nest of hair and help her style it into cornrows. Lastly, they gathered their shower supplies and headed into the hallway to meet with their teammates.

Dorm rooms were too small to have showers built into them. So they all used the communal restroom at the end of the hall next to Marigold’s and Lilith’s room. There were enough stalls for them to use, but they were only given a finite amount of hot water to use for morning showers. 

“Alright, you all know the rules,” Afternoon started instructing them. “Don’t turn on your hot water to the highest point as soon as you get in. That begins our time. Step in and get used to the coldness. Besides, cold showers have been proven to improve mood.”

“Do we have to?,” Holly said, her Scottish accent pronounced with sleep grogginess. 

Holly was wearing Toy Story pajamas and her hair was around 

“Yes, Holly.”

The Scottish girl sighed in defeat.

“OK, let’s get showered and then we’ll go down for breakfast. We’ll eat in one of the private rooms so we can discuss some things,” she made a point not to look at Aliah. She was afraid of how she would take her declination. “Aria?”

Aria looked up from her tablet. She enjoyed taking it into the shower for some reason. “Yes, Cap?”

“Book a meeting  room before the other floors get to them. And make sure you make it so that they can’t hack it and steal our spot like they did last time.”

“On it.” She began tapping furiously at her tablet. 

“Jack and Taylor.”

“Yah,” they both said. 

“Jack, use soap that doesn’t smell like you want every boy in here to drop dead. Taylor, don’t use so much perfume, hon.”

Jack simply shrugged, but Taylor’s jaw dropped–appalled that Afternoon didn’t like their perfume.  She loved it, but they usually tried to shower in it.

“Aliah, don’t take all damn day. Get the hell in and get the hell out. We might be able to save our hot water if you do that.”

Aliah scoffed and waved her away. 

“Let’s go.”

 Freshly showered, Afternoon felt her worry about the coming day's release with the steam from her skin. There was still the upcoming breakfast meeting that, if she were honest, she wished she hadn’t suggested.

One by one, her team filed out of the showers and into the hallway. Taylor and Jack had taken her suggestions and toned it down on their soap and perfumes. Taylor had a hint of rose and raspberries, which they had no doubt blended together. Jack’s hair was slicked back and he had applied a little mascara and gloss.  Both were fabulous as always.

Aria and Holly came out next. The two girls were hunched over the tablet,murmuring to themselves as they walked in-sync to a spot next to Afternoon. 

Finally, Aliah came out after having them wait an extra couple of minutes. Her moisturizer had her skin glistening and her baby hairs were laid. 

Afternoon shook her head, “I thought I told you to hop in and hop out.”

“You did,” Aliah giggled. “But I needed my self-care time.”

Afternoon rolled her eyes and motioned for her team to follow her.  She would not fuss with Aliah on an empty stomach.  

She noticed Holly and Aria wearing matching clothes, their country’s flag and jeans.  Aria was South Korean and Holly was Scottish. The two of them had met over a group they love online, and had become best friends during the First Year. They were recruited at the same time by the Facility, and had been so attached to each other’s hips–Chief had asked them both to be a part of the Computer Whizzes. 

When Afternoon  had met and had been offered the role of a leader, she instantly asked them to be in her group. 

Same with Jack and Taylor. The two of them had been siblings from another mother before they had been split from their families  in the First Year. Jack was a wide guy with the power of a quarterback. Taylor was lithe and delicate, the epitome of a ballerina.  Chief and Afternoon had believed that they could split into different parts of the group. Jack with Action and Taylor with Covert.  It fit them to a tee. 

Marigold and Lilith were apparently sisters and daughters of Chief, a fact she hadn’t known.  Then again,  most of her team members didn’t even know who she was.  She did know that the girls never put each other down and rarely fought. At least not in front of her.  

Aliah and Afternoon were the oddballs. Neither of them had known of each other before being recruited. Aliah was an open-book. Talked about how her mom could use the money she made as an agent.  Afternoon was the mystery. No one had known her background until last night. They still didn’t know much.  Nonetheless,  the way they had fit each other’s molding was as if they were soulmates. 

Together, the eight of them created a friendship that provided the backbone for their team. A powerful one the Facility couldn’t help but always take notice of. Even when Afternoon wished they would turn a blindeye. 

The smell of crisp bacon, sausage, and sweet biscuits wafted into her nose–it made her stomach rumble.  The cafeteria only had a few teams already sitting around. Eating their fill before they commenced the day.  To the west of the room were the four private spaces  that teams could use for classified meetings. Normally, they were always full but one sat empty. 

“Is that private room booked?”

Aria answered. “Yes. We have it until breakfast is done.” 

“Good,” she licked her lips as someone passed her with a plate full of syrupy pancakes. “Fill your plates and meet there in four. Jack, save some food please.”

Jack grumbled something incoherent but set his eyes on sausages. 

Afternoon grabbed her own plate and started piling it with sweet biscuits, cheesy eggs, and diced potatoes. 

It was typical for agents to fill themselves up each mealtime. They had large breaks in between meals and did so much in between. The agenda for Team Ace was: breakfast, sword-fighting, cardio,Afternoon would go to her leadership class while everyone else went to their various classes, lunch, and relax until dinner.  

Sounded boring and rough, but it was honestly the best time for Afternoon except for the class. 

She unlocked the door and scooted into the chair near the whiteboard. There was a marker and a gently used eraser stuck to it.  She dug in while waiting for the rest of her team. The sweet biscuits reminded her of her mom’s.  Fluffy, delicious, and a tad bit too sweet.  The eggs were cheesed to her consistency and the potatoes could not be wrong. 

A heart meal for a stressed-out girl.

Slowly, her team started trickling in with their own plates piled high.  She waited for them to sit down before asking: “We eat first or get the news out of the way?” They mulled it over before each person scooped a portion in their mouths. 

Eat first it is. 

They ate in semi-silence. The occasional burp and sound of chewing filling the air.  They couldn’t hear outside of the room, but Afternoon saw more teams stream into the cafeteria and knew that it must have gotten louder. 

After a few more minutes of eating, Afternoon was full and slid her empty plate away.  The rest of the team followed suit like a game of monkey see, monkey do. 

“I hope you guys had a good breakfast, but let’s get this meeting started. Breakfast is almost over.”

All of them nodded and waited for her to continue.  

“First, let’s address the big issue: me going to Disturbia.”

She saw everyone lean forward. Aliah raised a perfectly arched  eyebrow. 

She took a deep breath, “I am going alone. Even though the file said I may take someone, Chief said it plainly. This is my mission and my mission alone.”

The hurt on her teammates' faces pained her. She was sticking to her choice though.  A captain should always be confident in their decisions. 

Aliah looked as if she wanted to either bolt out of the cafeteria or jump across the table and slap some common sense into Afternoon. 

Jack, Taylor, Aria, and Holly appeared as if they would rather be anywhere but in that room. 

“Look,” she started. “I know it’s not what you guys want, but I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you guys came.”

“You wouldn’t have to babysit us, Noon,” Aliah scowled.

“Yes I would.”

The group gasped audibly and shame ran its course through Afternoon. Yet, it was true. She knew Disturbia like she knew her body, and there were still areas she hadn’t explored.  Having to watch out for Marigold and Lilith, whoever came with her, and her own back was a recipe for disaster. 

She could only take herself to minimize damage which was death in this case.  

“Mate, are you sure? We could help you in some way?” Holly questioned. Her voice was shaking a little. 

“If I get any help, it will have to be from the safety of the Facility.”

Jack rolled his neck, a sign that he was unhappy. “We can’t help you fight here.”

“No you can’t. But I’ll be fine. I made it through seven years there using my own wits. I can manage a few weeks.”

That didn’t seem to settle any doubts in her team. 

Aria quipped, her tongue too sharp, “We only have five  minutes left.”

Afternoon sighed and decided to move on. It wasn’t going to help her if they didn’t agree.  

She quicked talked about their day’s agenda before dismissing them. Aliah huffed out of the room, while Aria had to carry a trembling Holly. 

Taylor was about to follow Jack out before stopping to turn towards her. 

“Afternoon, I know you’re a strong independent woman. But,” they slowly smiled, “we’re a team you can lean on.  I don't agree with your decision, but it’s one you made.  You might be our leader, but you're our friend first and foremost. We're going to stand with you, not behind you."

Somehow, she had landed on the floor with a plastic sword aiming for her face. Aliah was standing over her with irritation written over her face. 

She had tried to deflect, but Aliah had parried and quickly swept Afternoon off her feet. Her twin blades were across the room somewhere. 

“Yield.”

Afternoon shook her head, flipped the bird, and kicked at Aliah’s shins.  Aliah defended her legs, but left the rest of her body open.  

Twisting, Afternoon shot out her legs, picking up Aliah, and flipping her over. Aliah yelped, throwing her sword away before she impaled herself.  In the end, Afternoon was on top, and Aliah was in the position Afternoon was in a few seconds ago. Afternoon placed her hands on her hips while shaking her head.  

“Anger doesn’t do anything in battle, lovebug,” she scolded. “It only weakens you. Give your enemies the upper hand. Something that will get you killed in Disturbia faster than I flipped you.”

Afternoon fell to the floor with a shocked “oof”, hitting her chin on the carpeted floor.  A booted foot dung into her back and twisted deep, sending pain signals through Afternoon. 

“Talking to the enemy does the same thing, dumbass,” Aliah spat before kicking Afternoon away.

Afternoon grunted but  didn’t yield to Aliah. If the girl wanted to be frustrated, then so be it. She had no qualms with taking multiple ass-beatings from her co-captain if it  made her feel better.  

Afternoon launched into a standing position, finding her balance and getting into a fighting stance. Left leg back, right leg forward and  slightly bent, and hands in front of her face with her right arm lower than the left, palms facing outward.  A kung-fu pose that Sam had taught her.

She cocked her head at Aliah who merely smirked and roun- about kicked. One of Aliah’s favorite and strongest moves. Her legs may have looked soft and pillowy, but they were actually made of cement and metal. When Afternoon had first met the girl, she had learned that a rookie had been sent to the infirmary for internal and external bleeding. Afternoon had sought her out instantly. 

Right now, she was at the opposite end, but thankfully, the position she was in allowed her to swing the killer legs away from her body, and maneuver behind Aliah. 

Afternoon pushed her away and heard Aliah curse. Where she had legs of steel, Afternoon had strength in her arms. Not as much as Sarah, who could pick up a heavy set person like Jack, and throw them clean across the room, but enough to defend herself. 

“I understand you’re upset with my decisi-Damn,” she had been punched while talking.  Afternoon tasted metal in her mouth. 

“Shut up and just let me hit you a few more times,” Aliah grumbled. 

Afternoon shrugged, spitting out blood and wiping her mouth.  “If you can get in some licks.”

She faked a left hook, waiting for Aliah to dodge to the right, and used her right hand to knock Aliah back a couple of steps. 

Aliah shook off her shock and again used those legs of hers to land an uppercut, sending Afternoon flying and landing with a grunt on the hard floor. She felt something crack and couldn’t make herself move. 

Damn those legs. 

She moaned, clutching her back and rolling onto her stomach. 

“You already done?”

Afternoon glared at her co-captain, refusing to let the pain squash her stubborness.  “Are you done?”

“I don’t know. We’ll see at the next match,” Aliah motioned for a nurse to come and help Afternoon. “See you at lunch, Noon.”

Afternoon grimaced as she was picked up and placed  onto a rolling cot to go to the infirmary.  Something was definitely broken, so it would take an hour or two for the nurse to work her magic. At least,  she could get some more sleep. 

As soon as Afternoon was ready, the nurse sent Afternoon on her way. Her hip was healed and it didn’t feel as if someone were sitting on her head. 

She headed to her leadership training. A class that all team leaders had to take at the Facility. 

The class was housed in the building the university had used for its business majors. Old flyers with people in professional clothing were still on the walls. The rooms were built to resemble conference rooms and she could see a few teams talking in them as she passed to get to  her class. 

A few team leaders were already seated. She saw Leah in the front row, who gave her a small wave before turning back to her conversation. 

Chief was the teacher for her class today. 

To her surprise, Chief smiled at her, the usual smile she gives Afternoon. One that doesn’t lift entirely up, but it’s just enough for Afternoon’s day to be brightened. Today, it only confused the hell out of her.  

Chief began to saunter over to Afternoon, stopping right in front of her. The closeness was uncomfortable and Afternoon wished she could slink away and to her normal desk in the corner. 

“Noon! I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sure you have,” she deadpanned. 

“Just wanted to let you know that you have four days left.”

Afternoon failed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She didn’t need a reminder. 

“Disobedience? Out in the open, Afternoon?”

“Last I checked, rolling my eyes wasn’t disobeying anyone, “ she scowled at her commander. “I’d like to sit in my seat now.”

Chief didn’t bother to move–only held Afternoon’s gaze. Afternoon thought she saw a flicker of red again. 

“Chief-” 

A voice interrupted her, “Chief, if you’re going to stall class trying to intimidate our best agent, then I’m going to have to remove you.”

Afternoon and Chief both turned to who had spoken.

Sangwoo , a commander of a different group of agents, had risen from his seat and was facing the two of them. He was the youngest of them but his visage had the weary lines of someone who has been in the Facility for a long time.  His hair was combed into a ponytail and laid at his neck, keeping it away from his eyes.  Afternoon shivered as those storm clouds peered into her own.  They felt so familiar. 

 Square jaw, slender nose  made for a man who was a work of art.  He was slender, but his height and aura made up for it.  He was shorter than Chief but taller than Afternoon who stood at five feet eight inches.  

Rumor had it that his hips almost made up for his slenderness. 

According to Aliah anyway. And that girl would hop on anything if it could get her through a dry spell. 

Afternoon turned her back  to turn away and find her seat.

Chief cleared her throat and stomped over to the podium where a book was already opened for the day's lesson.  She began to talk and Afternoon began to zone out as she usually did in class. There was nothing a lecture could teach her that experience wouldn't.  

It was only a few minutes into the lecture that she felt someone’s lingering gaze.

“Afternoon!” Chief yelled. 

The girl in question jumped and stuttered out a “yes.”

“What is the allotted time needed to be completely prepared for a mission?”

She knew the answer, but she hated that she had been called on. 

“A few days. Maybe less depending on the team.”

“So do you think your mission to Disturbia should take less time? You could be out of here tomorrow, couldn’t you?”

Afternoon bristled at her boldness.  Missions were confidential between commander and leader. No one outside of the team was supposed to hear details. She had only told Leah since she was a trusted friend. Otherwise, she had, technically, broken code. 

But for her commander to do it?

The room bursted into conversation. Many of the team leaders wanted to know why Afternoon had to go to Disturbia. Some of them gave her nasty looks of jealousy. As if going to Disturbia was a great feat. 

“Are you going to answer, Chananne?”

Afternoon stiffened at the use of her last name. Few people, excluding her team members, knew her last name.  Chief wasn’t included either.  The ones who knew weren’t allowed on this campus.  

She heard someone whispering, probably asking a friend about the name. She hoped everyone thought it was just part of Afternoon’s mystery. 

“Chief, I believe you’re violating a lot of rules,” Sangwoo stated.  “Watch your words carefully.” 

“I’m only asking Afternoon–”

“I think I missed how this line of questioning refers to the lesson of Rationing.” 

Their  argument did nothing to refrain her heart from beating faster and louder.  She forced her eyes closed to dispel her growing panic. 

Her name. Her name. Her name. 

She had gone by Afternoon for so long. She nearly forgot who she truly was.  

“Afternoon!” 

No, no. Afternoon is her name. Must always remember. 

Sangwoo’s eyes were peering into hers. Confusion and worry settled in the gray clouds. 

“Are you alright?” “Whaddya mean?” She heard her words slurring. 

“You passed out for a while.”

Shock sat her up as she took in her surroundings again. She didn’t remember fainting. She had only closed her eyes. It should have looked like she zoned out. 

However, the puddle of slob and the minute throbbing of her head were clear signs that she had been unconscious and had hit her head on the desk.  

The class had been dismissed and Chief was nowhere to be seen. It was just her and Sangwoo. Her face warmed as she realized.  She could practically feel the drool drying on her face. Thankfully, her hair was cornrowed or it would've been pressed flat against her head. 

“Thanks,” she squeaked. 

“Thanks for what?” Sangwoo questioned. 

“For making sure I didn’t drop dead, I guess.”

To her surprise, Sangwoo let out a breathy laugh.  His smile was boxy and made his appearance youthful.  

“Funny, Noon.”

He helped her stand and scanned her body again. She squirmed under his gaze, not used to anyone scrutinizing her except for the nurses and doctors. 

“Well, you look alright. Just a little banged up,” Sangwoo finally said after looking her over. 

“Why did everyone leave?”

Sangwoo shrugged,  “I dismissed them. Chief’s behavior was unacceptable. And weird. Almost like she’s become a-”

“Different person?” Afternoon finished for him. 

“Yes,” he said slowly. “ Extremely different. Like someone took over her body or is even putting thoughts into her head.”

Afternoon said nothing but her agreement must have been written all over her face. 

“I wonder who you know can do that.”

She frowned in confusion. There was only one person she knew could do that and he wasn’t here. But the signs were there. He was most definitely in the Facility. Disguising himself as her former respectable commander. 

Sangwoo shouldn’t know that. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” she chose to answer. It sounded like a lie. 

The man in front of her chuckled, a deadly smile growing on his face. 

“Oh, Afternoon. Have you been here for so long that you forget how powerful I am?” Before she could question him, Sangwoo began to morph before her eyes. His back widened while his hips and waist stayed slim and slender. His hair loosened itself from the rubber band holding the pony tail, and straightened to hang near his shoulder. Wisps of hair formed bands and concealed his forehead. 

The eyes should have given him away.  Hell, his whole persona was a dead giveaway. 

“Cat got your tongue, Afternoon?”  

“You shouldn’t be here,” was only what she said. Nothing else could come out as her astonishment stilled her. Her mind raced to remember when she had first heard of Sangwoo, the new commander of floor twelve.  Only a few weeks ago, right? Surely, he had to go through a rigorous interview and background check. How the hell did the Facility miss him?

“Come on,” he laughed. “You should know that I do as I damn well please.”  He leaned forward so that Afternoon was forced to lean into the desk behind her. 

Her heart pounded through her chest. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid for herself or for him. Maybe both. 

Kim Seokjin, eldest to his brothers, was violating multiple rules and regulations of the Facility. The primary rule being that no entity  from Disturbia was allowed to set a foot on campus. Apparently, the Facility was not able to follow up on that nor had they accounted for Seokjin's ability to let him do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted. 

It seemed as if several commanders were unfortunately his new playthings. 

She snapped out of her growing alarm and pulled him to the side of the room that was hidden from the door. She silently prayed that a student didn’t forget anything and would come back and see an outsider in their classroom. No one in the Facility had seen Seokjin or his brothers except for Leah and Afternoon. Leah wouldn’t recognize him now though.  

It was only Afternoon. 

“What are you doing here, Seokjin? Taking control of Chief, causing her to order me to go to Disturbia wasn’t enough? Getting into the Facility as an actual commander wasn’t enough?”

“Nope,” he drawled. 

She drew a small breath, her panic turning into unmitigated anger. 

“You have three minutes to explain why you are ruining-”

He interrupted her, “Namjoon told me to remind you of why you’re here in the first place. You’re wasting time Afternoon.”

Her anger remodeled itself into anxiety. 

Seokjin continued, “I thought the simplest way to do that was by getting you off your ass. Your ‘friends,’” he said ‘friends’ with a sneer, as if Afternoon having friends was an atrocity, “was the perfect reason to get you to come back. Save your friends and we reconvene.”

 His voice deepened until it almost sounded like a purr. “Once you’re back, we get to catch up with you. Afternoon has really made a mark on this place. You should hear the things they say about her.” “Noon! We’re missing lunch because of you. Tell Sangwoo that if he wants to stuff you during dinner then he’s more than obliged but right now we’re on a time limit.”

The playful yelling and laughing of her team coming towards the door made Seokjin roll his eyes. It was good they thought she was still with Sangwoo. Kind of bad that they thought she was getting bent over. 

“I have to go. Otherwise, someone’s gonna come in here and see us together.”

“I don’t wish to compromise either of us. I’ll change back,” he told her. 

Taking her face in between his index and thumb, Seokjin lifted her face so their lips barely graced each other’s. 

The small touch didn’t matter to him. 

“I do wish I could hold you as Seokjin, but it seems as if I’ll have to be satisfied with Sangwoo. I’ll see you at dinner. Your friend said I'm ‘much obliged to take you’, so I will.”

She barely managed a nod before getting pushed away from him. 

Afternoon made her way to the door, smoothing down her clothes and wiping at her face. It would only confirm that she had been  making out with the commander Sangwoo. 

Taylor was the first to let out something that sounded like a joyous screech. They were always ready to gossip about the masculine agents. Aria and Holly along with Jack were already heading towards the doors that lead outside. Aliah didn’t say anything but walked ahead of  her and Taylor, who asked questions like “How big was it?”  

Aliah still didn’t understand her decision. And Afternoon wasn’t going to make her understand. She had chosen her action and she was going through with it. 

Besides, only Afternoon understood why she was truly being called. Seokjin had told her as much. She was running out of time.  

“Are you actually going to go see the Sangwoo during dinner?” Taylor asked, much to Afternoon’s chagrin. 

“I dunno,” she pretended to think. “Maybe.”

“I think you should,” they stuck their thumb out pointing to Aliah. 

They made it to the doors that lead to outside. Once they opened, the afternoon sun greeted the three of them. Warmth spread through Afternoon’s body and chased away any anxiety she’d had only minutes ago. 

“She got a stick up her ass,” Taylor huffed as they glared daggers at the co-captain’s back.   

Aliah tongued her cheek and flipped them off. And like that, the anxiety came back. Not even a minute to let her enjoy being stress-free. 

“What the hell happened?” “Missy over there decided to go against you and-”

“Shut up Taylor,” Aliah snapped. Apparently, she didn’t want Afternoon to know. 

They shrugged,  “She’ll find out eventually Aliah. Admit you fucked up now rather than Afternoon finding out on her own.”

Taylor jogged to meet with the rest of the group while Afternoon and Aliah stopped to stare at each other. 

“What the hell did you do?” Afternoon demanded to know. 

Aliah wasn’t one to step over Afternoon’s toes. They were always in sync with each other. Never going behind each other’s back. 

“I’m hungry,” was all she got out of Aliah who took off running towards the cafeteria. Her long legs leaving Afternoon in a dust. 

[namboobieslover]

Kintsugi: the beauty of broken things || MYG

Chapter 4

Summary: Yoongi and Minnie have been friends for quite some time now, almost... 15 years? 15 years since they ran into each other in that music classroom by an unlucky (or not) mistake. They've grown close, but both of them have strong characters and insecurities that will have to be put aside when Minnie falls into her own lie, risking her job in the process. They have 3 days to feel comfortable and make everyone believe their role as the young engaged couple or she is fucked :[

Pairing: musical producer! Yoongi x lab tech/science nerdy! f reader au; non-idol! BTS members make a brief appearance

Genre: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn (?), best friends to fake couple au, constant unresolved sexual tension, two idiots too proud to openly speak but pinning each other

Warnings: use of bad language, mentions of insecurities/low self-esteem, anxiety, trauma; light use of weed, little smut if you scrutinize, SFW

Masterlist: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // ...

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CHAPTER 4: Don't worry, honey.

Word count: 1867

Does she want to play? Let’s play then. I prepare her usual rum with cola; she drinks that like water. For me, I’ll go on with more whiskey.

-There you go -I offer her the glass as I speak- Your favourite.

She tries it and it must be strong because the reaction is her nose scrunching, elevating her glasses with that action.

It’s not my fault since she intently tries to avoid wearing them in public, but I’m still a little surprised. She has this nerdy look that fits her really well, kinda… cute.

I love it when she goes totally science mode, telling me about these things I don't fully understand but makes her fascinated. I get fascinated with her. Most of the time I can't even follow her rhythm or I just stare at her with a blank face, the passion she shows being the only thing I can focus on. Me and my ADHD brain.

-Tell me if I'm wrong but the "love story" -she remarks with her hands- is then resolved.

-I guess. Or maybe… should we talk a little more about details?

-Yeah, lots of coworkers will have insatiable questions about this. Usually, when they ask about it, I just say "Uh, long story. I'll tell you about it when time accompanies". I didn’t want to be detailed about it because I'm not good at lying, nor at remembering things; especially lies.

-You made the right decision. What do you prefer: making up the whole story from scratch or should we add things we would like in those situations? To feel more natural.

-Maybe half and half. We can invent the story and progressively incorporate things we imagine in that type of situation; better if we coincide.

-Works for me -I agree- As we said the first meeting can remain as it was.

-Yeah

-Then, the fictional part should start in university and the whole living together thing.

-About the place… it's safer to say that we live in mine; my coworkers may have access to some of my personal information.

-That's true, but just in case, to justify you going in the opposite direction to eat in Mrs Lin's place… what about saying that we lived first here and then moved to yours?

-That's brilliant… babe.

Even though she struggles with the nickname, the more we say it, the less weird it feels (even if it's just a little little little amount). I should start to practise too, so… little devil on my shoulder comes with a plan.

-Minnie, I have an idea.

-Tell me.

-It's normal because we are not used to it, but we are struggling more than we should with the nickname thing. What do you think about playing a game?

She fights a smile and the competitiveness fills her eyes.

-I'm all ears.

Sure you are.

-We must say one of the agreed names at every natural chance we have. If we forget and the other notices it, the one that failed must drink a shot. It finishes when this night does. Starting from…now.

-Are you ready to lose?

-uh, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll be ready to WIN once you take your first shot, honey.

She doesn't even deny it once she realises it.

-Let's keep on, babe -she quickly says after drinking it- now that we have stabilised where we lived and live now, how we discovered that we were in love?

-Well, you were the first one to take the first step. What kind of things make you act that way? As I said I know about your lack of patience, but being more specific…?

She seems deeper in thought while trying to figure it out.

-Well… the first thing that comes to mind is the other person avoiding the subject. I don't like receiving mixed signals and then acting like nothing happened; it confuses me and my anxiety gets bad. I need to sort out the situation because if not… I start to doubt myself and my criteria, like wondering if I'm seeing things where I'm not supposed to. Time and health consuming.

-That implies that I'm the one that gave you those mixed signals? -I assume.

-Yeah. It's realistic how hard it would be to change the kind of relationship from besties to partners. As reserved as you are, the absence of answers in that field fits you well. Being honest… you look like the type that doesn't care about this stuff.

I drink from my cup. Even if I try, I can't find a reason to feel hurt by her words. Yes, kinda reflects this image everyone has of me or what I guess I project.

What she says is true and hasn't the intention to hurt me, but it still stings something deep inside me.

-What's wrong? -she cautiously asks.

-What? - I feel lost.

-I can tell something is bothering you.

Should I say it?

-It's just… I -I do care about those things. Do I really give this cold impression that no one can imagine I have feelings too?

I have never felt so exposed, but her face changing from a disoriented expression to a warm one calms me.

-Of course not - she says softly reaching my arm with her hand- I mean… maybe if a stranger meets you for the first time you give disinterested vibes, but once someone has the chance to meet you they can see that you are just an observer.

-Really?

-Yes, Yoongs. I think your character is one of the things I like the most about you.

-Why?

She finishes her drink before answering, trying to get all her thoughts together.

-Sorry if you have felt this way and I didn't notice; what a bad friend I am. In my defence, you should have told me earlier -she playfully hits me- But I will tell you now and don't let it go up to your head.

-This is going to be interesting.

-Shut up before I change my opinion -she warns me with fully red cheeks.

- Sorry

-Maybe we should continue deciding the next step?

-C'mon, what were you going to say? Why do you like my behaviour?

She huffs a big amount of air, her face resembling a tomato once again.

-I think that the way you act makes you interesting.

-How come?

-When I see you deep in thought I can't help but wonder what you are thinking about. What is so fascinating that makes you dissociate? Which is your opinion on common things you don't outside-ly react to? Feels intriguing; a mystery yet to resolve. Your ability to remain calm in whatever situation it's reliable and comforting. You have your ways.

-I do?

She snorts while another cup of alcohol is served by herself.

-Of course you do. Min Yoongi, to my expert eye you don't have that many secrets. Maybe I can't figure out daily things but I can do the important ones. Like, I know how you don't feel comfortable giving away love words or contact gestures. But I know how you take care of everyone in every little way you can: acts of service it's called.

Nobody has ever told me they were paying attention to what I do to the point of noticing that. Feels new and exciting.

-You think that for real?

-Of course. Have I ever lied to you?

-There was this time in 12th grade when you snuck out to meet with… what was his name?

-That's irrelevant right now and that was just a little white lie. I'm sure you wouldn't like to hear me talking about the plan I had to escape through my window just so I can lose my virginity.

-That's true.

Fucking. Kim. Taehyung. Nice guy but terrible at managing his relationships with girls.

-Anyways… have I ever lied to you about something important?

-No that I'm aware of.

-Then just accept the compliment so I can breathe, honey.

She seems a little ashamed to have admitted that she likes my interior world, but I'm not one in the position to laugh at it: I don't know why but I find myself a little flustered. Seems like my own game it's turning against me.

-So… you pay attention to what I do or not, hm? -I joke in a flirting tone

-Not on purpose -she fights me while a deeper scarlet flourishes all along her face- most of the time it's just frustrating and I wanna hurt you real bad. Why would you give me the medication when hungover but offer them to me without looking me in the eye? Like it's nothing? It makes me feel ridiculous.

-Why? -now I'm concerned.

-Because… because…

What started as a joke seems to have touched a sensitive spot for her. Are tears what I see? She sniffles a little.

-Sometimes I feel like everything is out of my hands; like I can't keep everything in order without failing. Even this whole situation… I can’t resolve a struggle I made myself without other people's help. You are always taking care of me and I don't know how to pay you back. I feel useless and every time you help me, I just want to tell you that I appreciate the gesture… the way you act like "it's just routine" makes me feel weak and stupid.

-Oh sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way.

-No worries; how could you have known if I had never told you anything about it? You are not a mind reader. So… blame is on me.

Lately, I've been so focused on my work that I didn't take what my friend felt into consideration. I feel bad, even if all the hurting wasn't intentional. Sadly, I'm not brave enough to admit that if I act that way it's because I feel ashamed to show my genuine feelings. How much I care about her well-being and how endearing his little demeanours are to me. But I'm sure that she knows this and all she has expressed now is the result of all the pressure she is going through. I do the best that comes to my mind: I wrap my arms around her torso and force her to be part of the sandwich conformed by my strong arms and my chest.

-I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. -I wish for my hold on her to reflect how truly sorry I am. 

I feel her body instantly relax. She feels warm while I feel cold; it must be the alcohol. Or it's just the physical representation of what we are. I don't know. All I know is that hugging her feels nice, right and the only thing in this world that deserves my attention now.

-You know Yoongles, I could never be angry with you. As I said, I know you enough to see the real you and is marvellous. You shouldn't hide it. I wish everyone were able to see your real side.

But you do (I want to say but don't have the courage to) and on Thursday- well, not Thursday but already Friday if we are exact- at 1:23 am, that's all that matters to me.

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

A/N: Hell yeah, we love a sensitive king!

This must be a record hahaha. Since this one and the previous one were shorter, I thought that uploading double would be the right thing. I hope you still like it, and if not, please let me know in the comment section. Have a good day or night :)

[softieyn]

💜💜💜

The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder | MYG

Fearful, they buried them, stomped them into the dirt. Underneath their boot, scared men were unaware the seeds of hope had planted by their own volition. From the dirt and grime, grew flowers, blooms so tall, eclipsing their hatred. You were strong and unwilling to be cut down any more. 

Dystopian Fantasy AU. Shapeshiftercat!yoongi x reader

Warning: 18+ adult themes, dystopian futuristic society (IS IT THO?), graphic violence against women, animal cruelty, attempted SA, mention of suicide, police brutality, angst, sex so soft and sweet and full of consent

Word Count: 9.1k

---

“It’s her,” they said. Whispers in the crowd, repeating the phrase to one another, like a wave of hope rippling over their bodies, energizing their fight.

It was true. She was there, and the crowd could feel her power, her anger, forged from pain. Because it was their anger too. It was familiar, it was a friend reaching over their shoulder and telling them, ‘It will be okay. I’m here now. You don’t have to fight alone. You won’t lose this time, because you have me now.’ 

The rumors spread far, even the law-forcers knew of her. They knew of her as a myth, a story the people would tell to ease the pain of their subjugation. An empty promise shouted at the law-forcers, that one day they’ll be sorry, that one day victory won’t be theirs to take. She was the woman with the black cat on her shoulder. One look into those feline eyes and judgment is swift. 

Some believed the cat is a creature from the underworld. The beast heard the people’s cries and clawed its way up into this world, collecting souls of abusers and assaulters, dragging them back down to its dark home. Some people believe the cat is part of her, she wields and controls the beast like a limb, that she isn’t human, but an angel, the savior of the people.

But she is neither and the cat is neither. She is like them. Born without wealth, without love, abandoned and alone, she grew up too quickly. A sad story told a million different ways by a million different girls. She lived her life as they all did, she worked and worked and worked and worked, and lived. She didn’t want anything more but to live...

You didn’t want anything more but to live, and perhaps it was by some divine intervention, you don’t know, that you crossed paths with a lonely black cat, so small and broken, so desperate to survive like you. You freed him and in ways you could not imagine, he freed you.

---

From the crowd of bodies, the woman with the black cat on her shoulder stepped to the front. Her clothes were black, pants torn and patched, sewn back stronger. A tight shirt so they made no mistake, it was a woman under that mask. Black cloth covering her face and hair, the amount of her hair hidden under her hood. But they could still see her eyes, accentuated by black eyeliner and hatred. And on her shoulder, a large black cat, long wild hair to match its wild eyes. 

The law-forcers stood in a line, guns and shields ready. The angry crowd had nothing but hope now. 

The law-forcers didn’t really believe it was her, looking down at her still. Any woman could find a black cat and pretend. They saw her as a martyr, a faker, their trigger fingers itching to make an example of her.

The cat hissed, mouth stretched wide open and long fangs displayed. The hiss was loud and piercing and the law-forcers flinched, embarrassingly reacting. The crowd jeered and laughed and the law-forcers pointed their guns at the black cat, growing in anger for being made fools. 

You whisper to your companion to wait. Let them attack first. Show the world the true aggressor before them. 

You waited because you knew the beast on your shoulder was a magical being. And the thing about living magic in a world filled with human creation, is that magic and technology reacted like oil and water, coexisting but unable to intermix, and magic was by far the stronger force. 

Red lasers land on you and your companion, but you stubbornly stand tall and the crowd mirrors your actions. The cat growls low and menacing and hisses again. It only took one scared threatened man, one trigger happy finger, and then it was all over...for them.

-

A gun shot rang out, and smoke appears where the black cat on the woman’s shoulder stood, weaving and twisting in the air like black rivers, dispersing and covering the empty zone between the crowd and the law-forcers. Bullets entered the smoke and the magical force created a barrier, stopping them in midair. That is when they all knew, they knew she was not just a myth.

As quickly as the magic appeared, electricity disappeared. The energy sent a shockwave across devices. Cameras and lights, the law-forcers military grade machinery, and all that expensive technology the law-forcers depended on broke and malfunctioned. Precious moments without their weapons that give a perfect window of attack. 

The crowd stands transfixed and the woman screams, loud and deep within her gut…

A roar. 

The black cat appears and reappears, so quickly it’s impossible to follow the cat’s path. Fangs piercing through skin and muscle of the men paid to silence the people’s cries, now crying for help, crying in pain as sharp claws rip through kevlar and tear the flesh from their bones. She runs towards them without fear. That's what the crowd sees, they don't witness her fear of losing what she loves most that carries her feet forward. And then the crowd begins to run forward too, headed straight towards men with bullets ready to fire. 

It’s chaos. 

---

“Dinner’s ready.”

His voice was soft and calming but you startle awake. You don’t mean to, you’re just always on alert and so anxious these days. 

His hand moves from your back to your shoulder, fingers pushing into your tight muscles. His way of telling you to relax. You place your hand over his, pulling him into bed. You’re so tired, he must be too. You wish he wouldn’t worry over you, you could have heated some left overs up instead.

The news plays loud on your home's display screen, events of afternoon recorded right before the blackout replay from many different angles. You listen to the cheers of your arrival, inwardly groaning.

Tonight it’s going to get worse, you’ve bruised the egos of the elite, and men like that always lash out in anger, unable to take a loss so great.

“We should go out tonight, just in case,” you sigh. Your companion doesn’t speak, he’s tired. He fought so hard. And he might have to do it again. But this is the life you both chose. Somehow, it has become this, nights upon nights of this. You wonder, if others had this kind of power, would they be able to sleep at night knowing they could have done something more, or would they be like you?

It wasn’t always like this. Before you were a fighter of the system, you were a victim of the system.

Like the night your companion, Yoongi, showed you what he truly was.

---

“Sweet kitty.” He purrs loudly while he eats, broken purrs between grumbles as he devours his dinner. The sight makes you laugh as he eats the meat leftover from your lunch. He waits for you, always in the same spot. The black cat you saved has taken to following you from work to your home at night. Every night you try to coax him into your house, but he never does decide to join you. He’s a cat of the streets.

You click your tongue softly as his fluffy tail wraps around your calf. Using two fingers, you run them along the cat’s back as he eats. “I have to get going, kitty, sorry for making you wait,” you muse, scratching behind the cat’s ears as he finishes. It’s later than you usually leave. Hours at the warehouse seemed to stretch longer and longer these days. 

You move quickly and quietly, kept your purse tight to your side. You walked behind restaurants, away from drunken men and street girls that took over busy streets at night. Walking these dark alleys alone was daunting, but better than dealing with confrontation and a quicker route. And you had kitty. The animal gracefully walks next to you, happily bouncing along with his tail held upright. You somehow felt safer walking with the tiny street cat.

Age thirteen was the first time you encountered the wandering eyes of strangers, walking the district’s marketplace with your friends from the learning center. Three teenage girls enduring the catcalls of grown men, following you for blocks. You knew the feeling of someone watching you all too well, it was the same feeling you felt tonight.

You stop and bend down, petting kitty, cooing at how cute he looks when he stretches his neck towards you and in the corner of your eye, you noticed them, two men in the shadows following close behind you. There is no safety at night for a woman in this world. You learned that not this night, but you felt the fear of your reality in waves, stronger than any night before.

Standing up again, you ignored them and kept your pace. You were too scared to run. Running escalated things. You learned not to do such things. Once you ran they would chase, they could catch you, they would hurt you. And you knew you couldn’t fight two and win, you weren’t confident in one. You fiddle with your e-bracelet. You could signal an emergency, but the law-forcers took hours to come to this part of town, even as attacks continue to escalate, you knew they wouldn’t save you.

Kitty meows next to you. He meows, he meows, did kitty notice them too? “I know,” you whisper.

You think if you keep this pace, you can make it past the corner, and run then, hide yourself in the crowd. But like you, it was not the first time for these men either. Experienced predators, they noticed your hunched shoulders, the concentrated steps slowly escalating. They attacked.

Dirty hands grab at your body, your hair, yanking you backwards into pavement. It was too quick, too forceful. 

You fought, you fought hard, with everything you had. You kicked and you screamed, and when fingers covered your screams you cried, when stronger arms and legs kicked back and shoved you back down, you pulled your limbs tightly together, protecting what they wanted from you.

You tasted your own blood, felt the sting of cuts and bruises on your body just formed and yet you still fought, unwilling to let them have any of you.

Acting on instinct to protect yourself until your legs were ripped open and your arms were held down and you retreated into your mind, thinking of what you could have done to stop this outcome, was there anything, one small difference, that could have changed everything? You were asking yourself these questions when the heaviness lessened, and your voice was no longer the only screams in the night. 

You lifted your head at a terrifying sight. Limbs reacting quickly to move away from the bloodshed. You reminded yourself to breathe.

Breathe out. You looked down at the scene, the two assaulters were dead, their bodies covered in scratches. 

Breathe in. And another man, black hair wild and covering his eyes. Hands red, covered in blood that wasn’t his. 

Breathe out. He walks closer to you, bends down, covers your bruised cheek with his bloody hand. Street lights flicker and static electricity stings you at his touch, but you don’t flinch away, feeling a familiarity that didn’t frighten you. 

Breathe in. Somehow you knew the most improbable situation was what this was, you knew what he was.

Breathe out. “Kitty?”

Even with all your breathing, you still passed out at the revelation.

---

You sit straight up, yelping, breathing eratic.

‘What's this?’ You stare at napkins and plastic bags, the trash falling away from your body. You're outside on your porch. Your purse had been underneath your head.

“Ow.” Your ribs hurt, your legs hurt, your arms hurt, your temples hurt. You run your tongue over your dry lips, over a cut and wince. Your bracelet beeps. You’re late for work.

You didn’t have time to think about last night until lunch time. Unable to make food, you stood in line to pay for lunch. Waiting for your turn in line, you listened to today’s gossip. The women of the warehouse discussed in hushed voices last night's murder. “An animal attack, they think.” “What kind of animal could do such a thing?” “Not too far from here at all, two men.” “Men?!” “From the Financial District at that.” “No CCTV either. It made the trending headlines this time.” “Maybe now they’ll do something about the attacks.” “Y/n, what happened to your face?”

“Went drinking last night, went home with the wrong one.” you mutter, running your fingers over the cut on your eyebrow.

The women look over at you with sympathetic eyes, “Please, y/n, my nephew is a good one, I wish you would give him a chance,” your coworker says, a lovely old woman who treats you like a daughter. 

“You didn't met him in VR first?! They have apps now to vet men like that,” another says in an accusing tone, “I would never.”

“Men can still pay to scrub that info from the V life,” the older woman says, rolling her eyes.

You wrap your leftovers in a napkin, pocketing the food. “I don’t have time to take care of a man, sorry Auntie!” Hugging her goodbye, you try not to wince when your ribs touch.

You head back to work, lost in your thoughts, piecing together what your mind allowed you to remember from trauma of last night.

After work you wait at your usual spot, clicking your tongue, but the black cat doesn’t come.

So you wait stubbornly, until it becomes even later than the night before. You check behind trash cans and old boxes, huffing. You were so certain you saw him in the morning, scampering away from you as you woke. Where is he now? You're certain you remembered the events of last night correctly, you're sure of it...aren't you?

Your usual route has been taped off, now a crime scene, so you’re forced to walk through the crowds, weaving through drunken bodies.

Drunken men won’t leave you alone, especially one, even when you tell him off, even when you push him away, he jeers and makes fun of your bruises.

“Looks like someone already taught you a lesson on manners. Didn’t you learn anything?” he slurs, following after you.

You turn down a deserted alleyway and feel small pads hit your shoulder, the warmth of a large cat pressing down onto your back, fur ticking your cheek. You reach up to steady the cat's body, pulling him into a protective embrace close to your chest. The black cat purrs as you stand stunned, looking down at the black cat. “When did you get so big?”

The man takes a swaying step forward and the cat hisses and swats a large paw in his direction, making the man flinch back, chuckling in his drunkenness.

“Leave me alone.” 

He’s too drunk, eyes glazed over, unwilling to stop now that it’s started. He lunges forward and the cat jumps out of your hands, claws aimed at the drunken man’s face. He screams as you attack as well, pushing him away as hard as you can, anger overtaking you. You don’t feel remorse as he hits the ground with a thud, blood pooling around his head, just stunned that it actually worked.

The crowd hears the commotion, men begin to head towards your location. Your heartrate spikes, preparing yourself to run, but instead someone pulls you into a hug, concealing you in the shadows, lifting you into his arms easily instead.

You’re both gone before anyone can reach you, left only to look at the drunken man, now dead.

A piercing scream echoes, but you’re already so far away. He holds you in his arms, moving across roofs with agility like you’ve never seen before. You kept your head buried in his shoulder until he landed in front of your doorstep. Placing you down, your legs buckle once they touch the ground, unable to stop yourself from falling into his arms.

You apologize, searching for your keys as he holds you upright. When you finally unlock your door he turns to leave. Just like that. No!

You find his hand, “Please don’t go, please.”

Smoke appears like a gust of wind, black and thick, and the hand you held evaporated in your palm as you coughed. When the smoke clears, a small figure stood, a cat with wild hair, his back towards you. The black cat looked over its shoulder, green eyes piercing yours.

You held in your gasp, and bent down, bruised knees hitting hard ground.

Reaching a shaky arm towards the cat, he stills. You hold your breath petting soft fur, hands delicately lifting his body into your arms. You couldn’t help the tears escaping, the wetness falling onto his soft hairs.

“I’ll stay out here then.” You whisper into fur, body shaking.

A meow erupts from the cat in protest.

For the second time you fell asleep on your front porch, for the second night you watched a man die and felt no remorse.

---

The next day at work the second murder was all your coworkers could talk about. Trending reports of another slashed bloody, a dead man found blocks away from your own warehouse. The news had trended statewide too, the headline was too juicy, too scandalous; a tourist visiting the labor district, brutally murdered on the night strip, presumably by a prostitute, a dirty woman! He was a father, a leader in the community, a good man!

Fuck him. You kept your head down and worked and didn’t entertain their gossiping. You were on edge all day until you stepped out of work and a familiar feline stared up at you, tail swishing back and forth.

You bent down and wrapped your arms underneath his fluffy belly, pulling him close to you, head nuzzling his furry body. He wiggled in your embrace but did not try to leave, paws instead reaching for your shirt and eventually jumping onto your shoulder. 

That’s how your walks went from then on. You talked to him like always, but now with the understanding that he really knew the words you spoke. He never changed back into the man who helped you, and he always jumped off your shoulder before you could walk inside.

“Please come in, please.” you always said.

But he didn’t, he wouldn’t. ‘Stubborn kitty,’ you thought, and your heart hurt.

-

One night, instead of going home after work, you went dancing. 

“Meow.”

“Is it just me, or is that stray following us?”

“Just you,” you joke, giving your date a small unconvincing smile.

You finally agreed to go out on a date with your coworker’s nephew, Hoseok. “Maybe it’s hungry.” He wonders, laying his arm over your shoulder, confused by its strange behavior.

You looked down at the black cat, walking back and forth gracefully, and looking very much annoyed. “Maybe.”

“My house or yours?” He asks, voice gruff, eyes downcast. Even the good ones still act all the same.

You smile. “Yours.”

A loud deep meow erupts from the black cat. 

-

The next time you left the warehouse, there was no black cat. He’s mad at you. Did you deserve it? He doesn’t expect you to feed him every single night, does he? If he just accepted your offer to stay inside your home, he wouldn’t have to worry about such things, you thought, offended and weary to walk home alone, cautiously making your way down the usual path.

You heard soft footsteps behind you. ‘Not again,’ you thought. Fearing the worst you spun around, coming face to face with your ‘black cat.’ You met deep brown eyes with flecks of green that almost seemed to glow when he stepped cautiously out of the shadows.

He crossed his arms over his chest and walked towards and then past you, looking over his shoulder, an annoyed look on his face. You took the hint and stepped in line. “Um, are you hungry?”

He didn’t speak.

You dug into your purse. You held out the leftovers wrapped in foil to him. He took it and ate as he walked, big urgent bites that made you frown, noticing his hunger. 

You pass a man walking in the opposite direction and your companion presses his shoulder to yours. The gesture warms your heart. Usually, when a man passed by you, you were met with questions or a comment about your body. This time nothing. The stranger keeping his head down, walking away without a word, and you almost wanted to scoff at how invisible you became now that you were in the company of a man, annoyed that’s what it took for strangers to leave you alone.

You stopped once you saw your home in the distance. He looked at you in question, turning to you for the first time. “Thank you…for walking me home tonight. And all those nights. Thank you, kitty.” 

You hugged him, his body stiffened against yours and you didn’t let go until he relaxed, arms slowly reaching around you too.

“Yoongi, my name is Yoongi.” His voice was gruff and raspy like he hasn’t used it in awhile. It was the first time, in a long time he felt he had a reason to speak.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you whispered. And then you let him go, smiling, turning back to your home. 

---

The thing about injustice, is that those who wield it, do not have to live with the pain they cause. But for those who are hit, every day the pain builds upon itself, robbing energy and time to tend to wounds caused by injustice, leaving scars that make it impossible to forget. 

You’ve felt it growing inside you, the anger. The past continued to assault you, making you feel disgusted. You tried to ignore it, but the memories were scars inside you that keep opening, making you angrier, repulsed.

And worse, attacks in the district grew exponentially, outcries from the people were met with platitudes by officials.

And worst of all, the latest trending case involved an elite from the e-tech district. It took four women, the last one reported to have died from the trauma. Of course he faced no punishment. He was a powerful man from the e-tech district, and they were powerless labor women. Injustice upon injustice. The wounds kept on opening, your trauma you kept on remembering, again and again in the faces of these women, anger simmering and growing.

So when you walked your usual path with Yoongi high on your shoulder and heard a concealed whimper in the shadows, you didn’t just mind your own business, like you would have done out of fear no less than a year ago, you were too angry to be afraid.

“Get off of her!”

You hit his back, you hit his head, you hit any part of him you can reach. “Go! Run! Hurry!” you tell the woman, who chokes on her cries and looks at you with tearful scared eyes, nodding.

He is startled, but he is stronger, pushing you away, slapping you across the face. “Crazy bitch! You want to die, yeah?”

He hits you again and you don’t care. You kick him and hit him, knuckles hurting the most with how hard you swing.

He is surprised, but he is stronger, and it only take one solid hit to make you double over, wind knocked out of you and curling into yourself.

Legs trap your body to the ground and you feel disgusted all over again, gritting your teeth, angry tears escaping, your nails dig into his face, drawing blood that surprises you both.

He’s angry, and he’s stronger, fingers wrapping around your neck, a murderous look in his eyes that you match. You belt weakened hits down across his forearm. Part of you, furious, makes a promise that if you survive this, you’ll find a way to kill him and every man who hurts another woman with your bare hands. But another part of you, the part of you that’s tired, that expects this pain to never end, would rather just die. 

A single clawed digit runs across the man’s neck, ending the fight and silencing your thoughts. Yoongi pulls the man off with you ease, throwing his dying body to the ground.

Yoongi crouches down, looking over your battered body. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me!”

“We have to leave.”

“No, leave me alone!”

“Get up,” he says, insistent.

“NO!” Your breath out rapidly, unable to calm your nerves or your anger.

So Yoongi waits, sitting down next to you. “Then I’ll stay here with you.”

Finally, you calm down, tension growing as minutes tick by. “Let’s go,” you swallow, pulling off your blood soaked work shirt, revealing a black tank top underneath, standing up to leave.

“This is not the way home.”

“I know.”

Black smoke zips around you, Yoongi appearing in front of you annoyed. “Where are you going?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, you were going to find another drunk man, you were going to see if he deserved to die too. “Why did you save me?!”

He looks at you, “Because I wanted to.” His answer short, hiding his real answer.

“Why?!”

“When you found me, why did you save me?” He asks, temper rising.

You stumble over your words. “Because it was the right thing to do, how couldn’t I?”

You think back to the day you found Yoongi, thin as a rail, patches of fur missing, tape wrapped tightly around his body, barely clinging to life, you thought he was surely going to die.

It was too cruel, what happened to him, you hadn’t expected him to live through the night, but you wanted him to know kindness too, to know there were good people out there too who wouldn’t hurt him. You nursed him all night and all morning, for days, until he found the strength to walk again, and then one night when you came home from work he was gone, the following night began your walks.

“That’s why. Because it’s right,” he replies.

You swallow down angry tears. “This is not going to stop, it’s not going to stop unless someone stop it.”

---

Spring came and it became unbearably hot in your small home. You left the windows open at night to let the heat out. On your day off, you took to spring cleaning. As you cleaned you looked to the side and saw familiar black fur, Yoongi was outside your window. You put out a bowl of water on the window sill, adding an ice cube which he gratefully licked, slurping the water cutely. He looked bigger. Hair longer, he did not look like the straggly stray you first encountered. He kind of looked intimidating, you mused.

You lean your head against your window frame, running your hand through his thick fur. “You can come inside anytime you want,” you let him know, smiling.

With the spring heat, you traded pants for shorts, thinner fabric, your hair up and off your shoulders. Now that nights were no longer cold, that meant even more people outside. More attacks too, some trending cases coming in from the upper districts.

Once the brutality reached the elite, rallies begin to form, marches through the Neostate's capital. You watched on your home display, conflicted in emotions. It looked nice, but did it change anything? Maybe in those districts, but definitely not here.

It didn’t matter to you, because you promised yourself that night, you would die before you let another man take advantage of you.

So when a man put his arm over yours, pulled you out of the dance hall, and he thought of all the way he was going to have you that night, you thought of all the ways you were going to kill him.

Alone with him, you spoke low and direct, only once telling him to let you go before he regrets it. He laughs in your face, leans into you, whisky smell coming out of his slimy lips as he attacks the corner of your mouth. 

Ever since that night you let your nails grow. It made it a bit more difficult to complete your duties at the warehouse, but the trade off was worth it, watching men crumple to the floor, screaming in pain when you ripped gashes across their face. Oh, it was worth so it.

“You crazy fucking whore!” The man screeches expletive after expletive, anger growing. You don’t care.

Before you can attack again, before he can attack you, Yoongi attacks.

From behind you, moving quicker than either of you, Yoongi transforms in a man. He lands a series of punches, large hand definitively gripping his face, slamming his skull hard into the unforgiving pavement.

He looks back at you and you look at him and you don’t need to speak to one another before both running down the alley away from the dead drunk who could have saved his life if he hadn’t tried to impose himself on you.

You walk next to one another in silence. And then you decide to turn back into the crowd. Yoongi holds you back, asking, “What are you doing?”

“I’m thirsty. It’s hot. I want a popsicle.”

He stops you again. “Cmon on, I’ll buy you one too. A milk one.”

You sit on your porch, smiling at Yoongi who holds two popsicles, once in each hand, licking the frozen milk.

“You’re trending on the local page. Well I guess we’re both trending.”

Yoongi nods, focused on licking.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Yoongi nods.

“Why won’t you come stay inside?”

“My kind are territorial. If I choose a home, it’s um, important to choose the right one.”

You pout, “I know my house isn't big or fancy, but it’s sturdy. It’s not that bad.”

“That’s not what I meant! I just... I had a home once. I thought I would always be welcome. I...” He can’t finish, voice shaking.

You exhale, understanding. “I grew up in foster homes. Some were okay, but it never felt like a family. Some were...horrible...” You wince at memories. “Anyways, what’s the saying, ‘Home is where the heart is’?” You nudge his shoulder. “This feels like home right here. Here with you.” you smile. “Yoongi? Are you…purring?” You look over at him with wide eyes, hearing the familiar vibrations come from deep within his chest.

“No!” He looks away.

---

Neostate's capital never seemed to care about the attacks on women, but the attacks on men? More law-forcers tasked to your district. On every corner. Men protecting men. More arrests of street girls. A curfew for women (unless a man was with you). You could almost feel the fear and tension within the night crowds now.

The people didn’t like the constant watchful eye. Rallys were every day now. Violence was met with more violence. The women who were caught in the crosshairs weren’t taken to Neostate run prisons, no, they were taken immediately to special e-commerce owned prisons, forced to work in the gencrop fields with migrants and farmbots, forced to work with cancer causing chemicals that unions outlawed amongst its citizen workers.

And by some accounts, women were given a second, more heinous, option. Better than slowly dying from cancer causing chemicals, they could use their prison time to serve as live incubators, as human birth was always the more desired option to incubator births. That was Neostate’s answer to the violence, a more sinister, pathological brutality.

Where was the justice for the battered women? Where was the justice?

That kind of injustice, that kind of shared pain, it didn’t lessen or become better over time. It stayed, stretched and thinned, like a blanket, almost comforting at times, suffocating most of all. The hypocrisy was sparking an age old fire amongst the people who had let it simmer for too long. And now, that cloth caught fire, and there was no stopping it.

More rallies and more marches, in every district a curfew now.

The fire was flaming.

And inside danced one flame known as her. Rumors of a powerful woman, with a pet, no a beast, no a cat! People have seen her at night, seen her cat move, jumping over buildings. She walks the streets at night to deal out justice the law-forcers won’t, women she has saved talk of her all the time; the woman with the black cat on her shoulder.

-

One night, the men who deserved punishment, to your surprise, were in uniform.

You stood stunned, unable to process. “L-Let her go...”

“Grab her.”

Of course, unfortunately for him, Yoongi would never allow him to touch you. Larger than you have ever seen him, appearance more like a panther than a black cat, Yoongi attacked the law-forcer with ease. 

This was before you learned Yoongi’s abilities were unmatched by bullets. You jumped in the firing path of the law-forcers. Your vision blurred from the blood loss and the immense black smoke that suddenly appeared. It was everywhere, and Yoongi was unstoppable. 

Everything was destroyed. The destruction didn’t look human, didn’t even look monstrous, it looked like a killer force of nature.

You only heard rumors of it like everyone else, the unexplained phenomena that took the lives of two heroes, because you fell unconscious before you could witness Yoongi's true power.

You woke up in your bed, bandaged, Yoongi and an unfamiliar man at your bedside. 

Your throat itches, dry from days of sleep. Your muscles stiff, tight bandages around your stomach.

“Hello,” the stranger besides Yoongi speaks calmly. “I’m Namjoon, a friend of Yoongi’s. You’re okay now, we were able to stop the bleeding, no major organs or arteries were hit, you’re lucky.”

Lucky, he says. You groan. “You’re doctor?”

“Not quite,” he laughs uneasily. “A veterinarian.” He smiles sheepishly.

You fell asleep after the small exchange, and woke up with a small black cat purring across your chest, feet and tail tucked in, head resting under your chin.

You find enough energy to pet him softly. “Don’t leave, please,” you croaked out, half asleep. “You’re my home.”

Yoongi never left.

---

These days, when you walked with Yoongi, he walked in human form beside you. Yoongi stayed more and more in human form. Stray cats were being round up and euthanized. Animal hospital records were being sequestered and families who owned black cats were being investigated by the State. All over a rumor. Well, the rumors of the woman with the black cat on her shoulder had become more than just gossip between warehouse workers. Whispers of you were heard in every home, in neighboring disticts, in Neostate's capital! You and Yoongi have become a symbol of strength, of hope, a battle cry, a reason to keep fighting.

-

“What should we get? Hweh?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, shaking his head no.

“Hmm,” you browse through the food screen at the grocery kiosk, “Well I can’t afford steak,” you pout.

“What do you want?” he asks

“Noodles!” Yoongi visibly grimaces at the thought, making you laugh.

“How about we settle for chicken?” You smile. Yoongi smiles wide. You somehow always ended up buying the chicken.

“Y/n? Hey! How have you been?”

“Hobi, hey!” You turn around to see Hoseok’s cheerful face smiling down at you. “I’m great, all things considered.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. You know, I pick up my Aunt and some of the other girls from the warehouse after their shift ends. Has she told you? I can take you home too. It’s not safe to walk alone at night.”

“It’s never been safe,” you sigh. You knew, most women now walked in pairs or with a trusted male escort. “I’m fine,” you reassure Hoseok, “Yoongi walks with me.” you look over to your companion, smiling. If Hoseok only knew how many walks it has been now.

“Oh, nice to meet you! Are you…together?”

“He’s my fr-” You feel Yoongi’s hand reach for yours, intertwining his fingers as he stares down a confused Hoseok. “-iend.” You look down in surprise at his hand tightly holding onto yours.

“A-Ah, okay.” Hoseok looks away flustered by the way your companion stares daggers into him.

The screen beeps and the kiosk's door opens, your food bagged and ready to be picked up. “We g-gotta go.” You turn, pulling Yoongi along.

You walk home and Yoongi never lets go of your hand.

You don’t question him, afraid he might take it the wrong way, instead enjoying the moment, because as affectionate as Yoongi was in cat form, he never touched you unless absolutely necessary in human form.

Yoongi, however, silently stews over the brief encounter, feeling more and more threatened by the man who took you on a date so long ago. Once you enter your home you finally ask him, “Are y-you okay?”

“Yes.” He says, still holding your hand. Lips pressed into a tight line, full of jealous and quiet rage.

You raise your eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

“You see me as a friend?” he snaps.

“You, um, don’t see me as a friend?” you ask confused.

“I see you as more.” He says it softly, eyes staring you down. He looked angry but he looked sincere, confusing you.

“What do you– What do you mean, Yoongi?” You heartbeat escalates in anticipation.

He didn’t have a proper word for it, the closest human word didn’t sound right at all. He saw you as more, yes, he felt a connection so deep to you, words couldn’t describe it.

He lifts your intertwined hands over his heart, struggling to say what he felt. “You’re– with me– You’re home.”

He raises your hand to his mouth, pressing the skin to his lips softly, before licking.

You smile, giggling at his cute affection before moving closer to him, burying your head into his chest, listening to his erratic heartbeat. 

“You’re…more than a friend.” You whisper. You look up at him, catching his eyes, irises such a deep brown shade with tiny flecks of green, his eyes so mesmerizing. “I love you.”

The words were barely spoken. He bends his head down, forehead meeting yours, long messy hair still as soft as a cat’s, ticking your skin. He's closer than he’s ever been to you. You took the chance to move one last inch, closing the distance, pressing your lips against his.

His soft lips brush against yours, making you feel so good you have to force yourself to pull away from him. “Was that okay?”

He answers you by kissing you again, this time with intention, his lips moving against yours, soft and hard and soft and hard and so so warm.

Your heart overflows, it makes you feel dizzy, a happiness you weren’t used to, only touching the surface of the love you felt for him but never diving in, and now it felt so strong and all consuming it left you breathless.

You hug him close again, anchoring yourself to him. “Did I do it wrong?” he hesitates.

“No, everything is right, everything.” 

---

You answered Hoseok's chat right away.

“How did this happen?!” You move beside Hoseok, staring at the hospital bed where his Aunt lies, bandaged and connected to tubing.

“She got caught up in the rally. The law-forcers thought she was a protestor. What shit, they hit her thirteen times! She was still in her warehouse uniform!” You put your hand over her bruised knuckles. Hoseok’s shoulders rack with sobs, Mrs. Jung was Hoseok’s Aunt, but she raised him like her own. “The march was so large I couldn't get my car through the crowd, I couldn't get to her!” He cries, feeling guilty and distraught. You turn to Yoongi, exchanging silent words.

You never attended the marches, deciding to pick your battles. But this time, you decided you enemy was not only a misogynistic bottom feeder from the labor district, not just a sadistic elite taking advantage of his status to hurt women, or a sexist law-forcer abusing his power, your enemy had become bigger, a system working against women like you at every turn. You were going to defend yourself and the women you loved, and even the women you didn’t, you decided.

And that is why you and Yoongi revealed yourself to the world. You had enough. The people had enough. And this time, because of you, the people had won. It showed the world, power is not just given to men.

---

“The Women’s Protection Act,” your coworker scoffs, moving the hospital food around her plate, “Sounds like Enslavement.” She frowns. “My husband is dead, how am I supposed to get to work if I can’t even leave my own house by myself?”

“I could take you.” Hoseok says.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s a nice thought, but doesn’t fix the problem.” 

“It won’t pass, right?” Yoongi asks.

“They’re scared of us, it will pass,” you say solemnly. 

“Then we fight.” Yoongi says. You all turn to stare at him. “Err right?”

“Fighting here does nothing, the elite districts have to join in, for real.”

“Those girls never worked a day in their life,” she groans, “you think they will dirty their hands for us?”

“If they had someone to rally them, I bet they would… The woman with the cat on her shoulder.” Hoseok says wistfully. “They would follow her, look what happened.” You catch Yoongi’s eyes and quickly look away.

“Yeah, can you believe it? Those fuckers’ weapons all jammed. Can you imagine that cat of hers in the e-tech district?” Hoseok’s Aunt cackles, “Oooh, the entire place would combust!” 

You swallow hard while Hoseok joins in on the laughter. “Ahh that would be great. But the capital has technology that hasn’t even reached us yet, I don’t think she could even survive a fight like that.”

“We should still try.” Yoongi murmurs.

“Yeah? Got a way to chat her? I’d love to meet her,” Hoseok laughs.

Yoongi leans back in his seat, crossing his arms, huffing.

You ignored Yoongi’s questions all night, until finally you snap.

“What if you die?!” 

Yoongi looks at you stunned, chuckling. “You’re not worried about yourself?”

You scoff. “I should have died a long time ago.”

“Me too, but a woman saved my life when she didn’t have to, gave me…a home.”

“W-We could expand our watch over to the agriculture district instead. That’s something we can fight and win. Maybe we should just focus on that?” Yoongi stays quiet. “Why help the Elites when half of them agree with the act?!” You ask angrily.

“If you want to stay…I’ll stay with you.” 

Every part of your being is screaming at you not to back down now. “I don’t want to lose you.” Yoongi kisses your forehead, hugging you close. 

To the capital.

You didn’t want to disappear and worry Hoseok and his Aunt, so you went to the antique store and bought paper, wrote a note using real ink for the first time in your life. You gave it Hoseok after leaving the hospital for the last time. Now three people knew your secret. Well, three people and a cat.

“Packed?” He asks.

You nod, on the verge of tears. You hated this place, why did it hurt so much to leave it?

Yoongi sensed your sadness, pulling you into a hug. “I’m sorry, I’m being silly,” you sniffle.

“You’re not, it’s okay to feel sad.”

You finally broke down in Yoongi’s arms. You were terrified and you were sad. You felt like you were being pulled away at sea, the currents of the revolution were too strong for you to swim through, you weren’t strong enough for this. You had no real power, it was all Yoongi, you were a fraud, and you were going to drown and take Yoongi down with you.

A soft purr pulled you away from your thoughts, Yoongi trying to console you the only way he knew how. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips, damn if it didn’t work. He’s too cute, too loyal, too perfect for someone like you. You didn’t deserve him, but you were too in love to let him go now.

You lay against him, sharing your bed one last time. “I’m sorry for dragging you into my fight.”

“I might not understand everything, but I know what you’re fighting for is what I want to fight for too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. No matter where we go, my home is you.”

He kissed you softly, wanting to make the moment last. Soft kisses became stronger, deeper. Hands wrapped loosely around your waist and became tangled in your hair, cupping your cheek, firm, pulling you into him.

You moved on instinct, nestling your body close to his, pressing tight to his strong frame. Your heart began to beat so quickly it matched his own, your breath escalating against his lips. You didn’t want it to end, you wanted to be closer, always closer. You wanted all of Yoongi.

“Is this okay?” you ask between heated kisses, Yoongi nods quickly, groaning, head falling forward into the bend of your shoulder as your fingers wrap around his shaft, feeling him harden as you pump. His tongue runs along your shoulder, softly scratching your skin, making you shudder and moan.

His mouth envelops your own, this time with more urgency, tongue licking over your lips until you part them for him. He takes his time tasting and licking into your mouth, holding you tightly as you work to pleasure him.

“I want you, y/n.” Yoongi grunts, moving his body over yours, watching you intently, memorizing your heated expressions to memory. “Please?” he asks, licking his lips.

“Yes,” you nod, widening your legs for him. His fingers pull at your panties, growing a claw just to tear the fabric away. You pull your nightshirt quickly over your head before he can tear it off too.

He stills and admires your body before lips kiss the newly exposed skin as he presses his body down onto yours, slowly connecting himself to you, inside and out. You gasp, stretched by his length, try to steady harsh breathing. Having sex with Yoongi was nothing like you ever felt before, it was so gentle even when he rutted hard into you. It wasn’t just sex, it was making love. The pleasure, the love, it was overwhelming, his fingers exploring your body, pulling at your curves, pinching the most sensitive parts of you.

So much love, so much pleasure, your walls began tightening around his length until he couldn’t hold back any longer, mouth finding the sensitive part of your neck and biting down, releasing inside you. He relaxed into you, licking the mark, softly apologizing. It didn’t even hurt, you reassured him, the pain eclipsed by the pleasure and happiness you felt. It felt so good and right.

He kissed along your neck, down your shoulder, across your chest, moving lower and lower, determined to give you just as much pleasure as you gave him. Rough tongue licking across your sensitive skin until he fell in between your legs, admiring your beauty. You shiver as his fingers run along your sex, push the liquid overflowing out of you back inside, his come, possessively wanting to mark you still. He keeps his fingers deep inside you as he licks your core, tongue pressing over your nub sending shockwave of ecstasy  through you, building the pleasure inside you once more until you reach euphoria’s edge again, this time toppling over. He moans into your core satisfied, your walls clenching around Yoongi’s fingers. 

“Come here,” you finally rasp out, as Yoongi is all too happy to continue to lick you clean.

Hugging him close, tangling your limbs together, you fall asleep one last time in the largest district in the Neostate, the labor district.

---

“How the heck are we supposed to get a pass to visit the e-tech district?” you realize, asking Yoongi when you both step out of your home at sunrise.

He smirks.

-

“Hey Joon.”

“Ahh look at you! You look great.”

“Yeah...Well, Yoongi is not happy.” You frown.

“It will wash off, they do this to all the pets in the higher districts.” Yoongi growled and panted in his cage, his fur a bright shade of purple.

“Let’s go, ‘wife.’” Joon held out his elbow to you.

Loud hisses emit from the cage. You laugh awkwardly, wearing clothes that cost more than your entire wardrobe.

“So your family is from the financial district, eh?” You ask trying to break the tense silence. Joon, Yoongi, and you took a bus to the distribution district, and then once you arrived you transferred into a private driverless car sent by his family.

Namjoon smiles, “Yeah, want to know why I stayed down there, I assume?”

“The thought crossed my mind, yes.”

“Love is funny that way,” he sighs. “They really try to box us into different sectors, make it so hard for each of us to find happiness somewhere else, but when you find the one, nothing else matters.”

You clutch the altered ID card of Namjoon’s late wife.

“You stayed, even after, when you could have gone back...”

“I never had a reason to until now.” He taps on the cage, “Plus, I had a very stubborn patient who wouldn’t leave either,” he raises his voice, teasing Yoongi.

You make it to the financial district in Namjoon’s smart car. You walk with Namjoon to your hotel with Yoongi in tow and you've never seen so many...things. Useless things. What is that thing? Pouring out water you can't even drink. Where does the water go? Why are they wasting so much water?! Water is a scarce commodity, it doesn’t make any sense!

‘Neostate’s Safe Sector continues to riot as our Capital’s Citizen’s Defense Force begins deployment to our nation’s largest sector.’

“Did they just call our district…the Safe Sector.” You blink. “Namjoon places a finger over his mouth, signaling your silence.

He turns the hotel’s display screen’s volume up louder, closing the blinds. He clicks the release on your e-bracelet, placing both his and yours in his suitcase. “Surveillance here is much worse,” he whispers.

You mouth the words ‘safe sector,’ aghast.

Namjoon laughs quietly. “I mean, I don’t think they meant safe as in safety, but I see what you mean,” he whispers.

“Can I let him out now?” 

Namjoon nods and Yoongi stretches his tiny cat body outside his cage, bounding towards the hotel room’s bathroom. 

“Wait!” Namjoon whispers urgently, running after him. “Don’t transfo-”

“THE FU-” Namjoon covers Yoongi’s mouth. Finishing the proclamation, “ONLY ONE SINK?!”

“Huh?!” you rush towards the bathroom but it promptly shuts in your face.

“What’s wrong? I want to see!”

You hear snickering on the other end of the bathroom door and the soft whipping of a towel smacking marble, Yoongi taking out his anger on the poor bathroom’s sink. You can only imagine what he looks like now, you sigh, vowing to make Namjoon tell you in detail what happened.

-

“Do you know what a blueberry is?”

“No.” you say excitedly, you wait to hear Namjoon’s explanation.

In your lap, Yoongi bristles, purple tail puffing out in all directions.

-

“Even with your e-braclet completely offline, I’m still worried. An alert might still send off if they notice someone from the labor district in the capital. I sent it back to Hoseok, Yoongi said that it was okay.” Namjoon whispers.

You nod, a little disappointed your v-life was now truly non-existent. ‘Yoongi is home,’ you repeated in your mind, petting a purring Yoongi. “I got you a new one,” he hands you the shiny new tech. “It’s rudimentary, uses old satellite tech instead of the web. I programed my number and a few trusted others from other sectors. Now, remember your lines for the border-forcers?”

“Yeah, I’m visiting for the day to buy a dress because my husband is being honored with an award.” You say, gripping the leash connected to Yoongi as if your life depended on it, “...with my cat.”

Underneath your expensive clothes you wore all black. You walk in hand with Namjoon, pass a large metal installation sticking out of the sidewalk. It’s marked ‘emergency,’ a button with an icon of a woman engraved in the metal. You wonder what exactly would happen if you pushed it.

How many times has that button been pushed, you wonder, would this district even need a use for such a thing? You took in each passerby. There were so many…men. You’ve only passed by one other female and no children. The men here had manners, which only meant they kept their heated stares upon you for only moments before hurriedly going about their day. But as you pass another installation you think there must be a reason.

“I’m in surgery with a patient, that’s why I can’t come with you. But…” he waits for you to remember your lines.

“There’s a family friend waiting to escort me on the other side,” you repeat the lie.

“Great, you got this! Now, try to keep your chin up, act like you belong.”

Ugh.

---

You look across the city lights, so many buildings, so many people. Everything looked so new and clean and so different. The wind was even different here; crisper, fresher.

Under these circumstances, you could see why it was easier for most of them to ignore the abuse. You had to believe they wanted to stop it too. You had to believe the oppression broadcasted from other districts had echoed loud enough with an uncanny cry, familiar to them too.

Well, for now you’re here with just one other by your side and the hopes of your people on your shoulders.

“What do you think, Yoongi?”

Yoongi turns his head and smiles, stealing a kiss. “I’d say I have seven more lives, at least,” he muses.

“What’s the supposed to mean,” you huff, weary. You hold up the plastic map, it generates the landscape, Yoongi studies nine Xs across the terrain. “You know there are only two women on the council? And one of them is in favor of the act! Well,” you sigh, “I guess a 50/50 vote is the best odds we could hope for.” You think out loud.

Yoongi crouches down, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, settling on his back. “Ready?” he asks.

“No,” you mumble, “What did you mean by seven lives?”

“Just that...my last life, I want to spend just being happy with you.”

You hug him tighter, nodding. Smokes appears around you and wherever you and Yoongi go. The power goes out and the city shuts down. It’s not the women who are afraid, it’s the men.

---

The line “forged from pain,” what I meant was, written from pain. This is pain and anger and sadness of a woman in a society that wages war against women. Sorry, no lightheartedness from me for awhile. If you didn’t like this story or its ending, I’m not sorry. I will finish my WIPs soon, but I’m going to keep writing stories like this for now.

Spring Fling Masterlist

[thebiasrekkers]

Fragmentation 5.0 - KNJ

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,269

AN: Now we get Namjoon’s perspective. YAY. Also in the Real World in Zion. Again, all information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi​, @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432​

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Oh look,” a voice said suddenly, “it’s the prodigy.”

Namjoon sighed as he continued typing away on one of the system computers. For the last three years, he lived in Zion’s control tower. It was where all the trainees went who hoped to become Operators for a ship. In less than a year of his boarding, Namjoon showed excellent marks in reaction time as well as hacking prowess. It was no secret that he was far ahead of the rest of his class and there were rumors that he would graduate in the next year if he continued to excel in every area of expertise they could throw at him.

That didn’t make him very popular with his peers. Then again, it wasn’t like he actually cared. They all had a common goal and as long as that remained true, then they only needed to focus on doing their jobs.

Who cared if it was some popularity contest?

“Wait guys. You know he hates that title. We have to call him by his alias, remember?”

The tone was snide and insincere. Again, Namjoon didn’t care. He had other things he needed to devote his attention to. Rumor was that he would be boarding a ship soon to help with a simple reconnaissance mission. Nothing too overly complicated, but he wasn’t about to turn his nose up to the task. The lives of Matrix Operatives were in his hands and that was a responsibility that no one should ever take lightly.

So he continued to tune out his fellow classmates, focusing his energy on the program he was creating. It was a training program that would be used in the Construct - an exercise to help hone the sensory perceptions of operatives so that Agents wouldn’t be able to get the jump on them. When Agents obtained a target, they were relentless in their pursuit until an Operator was able to get them out. Namjoon wanted to prevent such tragedies from ever taking place. What better way than to prepare the operatives in any way possible?

He received word from his mother that Taehyung would be boarding a hovercraft next year. To successfully become a pilot, a trainee needed to physically handle the controls for years. Namjoon barely saw his brother due to his own hacker training, but it was guaranteed that they would not cross paths for several more years once Taehyung boarded a vessel.

Namjoon felt a hand on his shoulder, but he continued typing away at his station.

“Don’t listen to them,” said Vermillion, giving Namjoon a gentle shake.

“I don’t,” he replied, his eyes narrowing at the line of code he was reworking, “I always tune them out.”

“Typical. That’s just like you, Spectre.” Vermillion chuckled, sliding into the chair beside him. She peered over his shoulder as he continued working. “That looks pretty advanced. I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.”

Pressing several more keys, Namjoon saved his progress and closed out the command console. Everything was transferred to the mini disc that slid out from a tray on the main hub. He popped it into a small case and shoved it into his pocket. 

“It’ll take a few more weeks before I’m satisfied.” 

Namjoon stood from his chair, grabbed his bag, and made for the exit. He didn’t have to look to know that Vermillion was hot on his heels. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, but he’d come to be a very solitary person. He rarely saw his mother and there was a good chance that he wouldn’t see his brother for several years. Not until they were both finished with their respective Training Programs. 

“You’re not going to report to the Head Programmer of your progress for the day?”

He smirked. “He already knows.” Turning to look at her, he continued walking. “I was told to help out at the Command Tower for a few hours.”

Vermillion’s eyes widened. “Wow. Forreal?” 

He nodded and they continued walking through the various metal corridors. The shocked look on her face was well-placed. Most people didn’t get to work at the Command Tower during training because there was a high risk of something failing because of an amateur mistake. The fact that their teacher cleared him for work at the Command Tower was another testament to Namjoon’s skill level. 

They reached the elevator for the Command Tower. Namjoon’s hand hesitated over the button as he looked at Vermillion. She seemed to want to say something else to him, so he waited. But after a handful of minutes of silence, he sighed and pressed the button to call the lift.

“Well, I’ll be seein’ you,” he said as he readjusted his bag’s strap along his shoulder.

The metal doors groaned as they slid open, granting him access. He stepped onto the lift and just before the doors closed, he saw Vermillion’s smile as she waved at him.

“Do well, Spectre.”

He flashed an easy grin in her direction. But once the doors were closed, the smile fell off his face immediately. Namjoon didn’t have any time to waste. There was a chance the war could be over in his lifetime. It waged on for damn near a century already. The people of Zion, human-born and field-born alike, were all tired of this seemingly never ending conflict. His parents saw the brunt of it during the beginning phases - children when their parents were fighting for their freedom.

Namjoon didn’t want to pass this burden on to his children.

To keep that from happening, he would work himself into the ground. Until there wasn’t a single breath left in his mortal body.

Four Years Later

Spectre pulled out his mini computer, booting it up to look over the dossier files of the ship he was newly assigned to. He was originally slated for Operator duty the previous year, but he opted out of it. His brother, Edge, hadn’t returned from his training tour yet. The benefit of finishing at the top of his peer group was that Spectre got to pick and choose a few things here and there. 

Namely when he would be boarding a ship. 

He quipped a brow at the list of crewmates on his future ship. There were some impressive resumes on the vessel. Certainly nothing he could turn his nose up at. The Admiral must have had a hand in the assignments and there was clearly a reason why Spectre was placed with that particular group. Based on the skill records of everyone on board, save for the pilot, they all had more than one year of field experience that wasn’t “on the job training”.

The Captain and First Mate in particular. 

His eyes scanned over the pilot’s name and he couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. Spectre had all the faith in the world that his brother would make it through the Training Program, but he hadn’t expected to see his name on a crew member manifest just days after his ship docked back home. 

“Yo, Big Bro!”

Spectre lowered the mini computer to his side, lifting his gaze up to see his younger brother strolling up the long metal walkway toward him. He closed the computer, slid it into his pocket, and waved to Edge. His little brother wasted no time closing the distance between them, taking off in a dead run and barrelling into him. Spectre grunted when he felt Edge’s shoulder crashing into his chest, his arms encircling around his waist. He laughed as Edge lifted him up off the ground.

“Hey,” Spectre said, patting his younger brother’s head, “a little over the top, don’t you think?”

Edge set him down, placing a fist on his hip. “Are you kiddin’ me?” He pouted. “I haven’t seen you in years. I should be setting off fireworks.”

Lifting a basket off the ground and handing it to Edge, Spectre shook his head. “Yeah, don’t do that. We’ll get court-martialed.”

Edge’s heavy steps reverberated off the metal flooring. “It would totally be worth it, though.” 

“It wouldn’t, actually, but whatever.” 

The brothers shared a smirk with each other. 

It didn’t take them long to reach their house. The door was already open just as they saw their mother stepping out. She carried a basket of linens in her hands - presumably to go do laundry at the water recycling plant. The minute her eyes shifted in their direction, however, she seemed frozen in place. They took a few more steps toward her, watching as she dropped the basket at her feet. The dirty clothes and bedding would remain ignored. They already knew what mattered most to their mother.

“You’re back,” she finally managed, her hands trembling as she reached for them, “I knew you’d both come back home together.”

The two brothers filled their arms with their mother - holding her closer than they believed was possible. Her smell hadn’t changed and the strength in her embrace was just as they remembered it when they were children. She openly sobbed against each of their faces, overwhelmed with how much they’d changed. Yet they remained the same. They were men now, but the brothers knew that they would always be her little boys.

Her pride and glory.

After what seemed like too short a moment, their mother pried herself from them. “You two must be starving,” she said, turning to usher them into the house, “I’ll see about gathering some rations for dinner.”

Spectre leaned down to pick up the discarded laundry basket. “You don’t have to do that, Mother,” he offered, but he could tell that she would not be hearing any of it.

“Go inside and unpack your things. I’ll be back!”

They both sighed in unison as they watched their mother dart off down the metal walkway and across the bridge. Spectre turned to Edge and they both shrugged, making their way inside the home they hadn’t been in for several years. Lucky for them, nothing had really changed.

Spectre poured himself a cup of water, handing it to Edge and then poured another. “Have you gotten your assignment yet?”

Edge smirked as he pressed the metal cup to his lips. “Of course I have.” He gulped down half the water and set it down on the metal counter. “I’m stoked as fuck that I’m going to be piloting the ship you’re the Operator of.”

“That’s it?” Spectre lofted a brow at his younger brother. “Nothing else?”

“I mean, not really.” Edge shrugged. “I don’t know much about the others. I’m just glad I’m with you.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. He should have known that his brother would still continue to be simple-minded, even after all of these years. It didn’t come to him as a surprise; not really. In a way, it was almost relieving to know that his brother remained wholly the same - even after the intensity of the Training Programs.

“Did you get a chance to look at the ship?”

Edge whistled, sailing his hand out across his body in a dramatic flourish. “Bro, let me tell you…” He leaned sideways, bumping his shoulder against Spectre’s. “Just thinking about flying that ship is giving me a hard-on like you wouldn’t believe!”

He rolled his eyes, lightly elbowing his younger brother’s side. “Seriously? Come on.”

“I’m dead-ass serious, Bro. Like, holy shit, the Amaterasu is one sexy fuckin’ vessel.” Spectre watched a gleam sparkle in his younger brother’s eyes as he spoke. “She’s the newest hovercraft in the fleet and that baby was made for speed and destruction. I bet she could make it to The Fields and back before a Sentinel could even detect what actually happened.”

Spectre quipped a brow. “New stealth tech?”

He watched his brother nod emphatically. “Oh yeah, and then some.” He clapped his hands together. “I can’t wait to test that beauty out.”

Pulling out his computer, he looked over the ship’s diagnostics. There was some serious hardware put into the hovercraft. If the deployment of the Amaterasu was successful, the engineering crew would work on replicating the ship’s schematics for future hovercrafts. As exciting as that prospect was, Spectre couldn’t help but frown a little.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the Amaterasu was a guinea pig ship. This would be the first time the crew would work together as a collective. Some were still fairly young, their minds “freed” but needing more time to mature. There was also the chance that they would all clash when it came to their personalities and work flow.

He barely got the sigh out of him before Edge wrapped an arm around his shoulder to pull him in close. “Hey, c’mon, Spectre! This is what we went through all that training for, right?” Edge winked at him. “Everything’ll be fine. Every single member of the crew is the best of the best of the best, right?”

Spectre nodded. “Yeah…”

“So there’s nothing to worry about. We’re going to be the talk of the entire fleet. Everyone in Zion is going to know our ship.” Edge laughed, causing Spectre to grin; his enthusiasm was infectious. “We’ll do great things, Bro. I know we will.”

Spectre ruffled his little brother’s hair. It brought him an overwhelming amount of relief to know that his younger brother had, in fact, barely changed at all. In a time where their future was bleak and uncertain, pure optimism was necessary. Hope was needed.

And he would do whatever he needed to do in order to ensure that that hope never died.

[thecrowtit]

Man Made Love

(alternate title: 사랑으로 만든 사람)

Ship: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi

Rating: E (just in case)

Summary:Jungkook a genius college dropout is a pleasure bot programmer at Machina and his brother Jungha designs new technology at HYBE Tech. When Jungha is killed in an accident, Jungkook is left with the odd android MYG93 and a dangerous mystery that threatens them both.

[ao3-taegi-fics]

Still Alive

Author: veat

Warnings: None

Chapters: 1/1

Pairing: Kim Taehyung / Min Yoongi

Words: 10,499

Genre: Cryogenics AU, Set in the Future, Slow burn, Nurse Taehyung

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

With the promise of a reward, Yoongi volunteers to be part of an experiment that consists of having his body cryogenized. Taehyung is a nurse he meets when he wakes up...fifty years later.

Read the fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329023

[borahaefics]

Been Tryin' Hard Not To Get Into Trouble But I Got War On My Mind

author: orphan_account 

ship: sope 💕

rating: explicit

word count: 57k

summary:  Ace agent Min Yoongi is sent to go undercover and infiltrate backstreet racer-cum-heist-leader Jung Hoseok (code name: JHope)’s group of misfits, figure out their big plan, and bring them in. He’s counting on his info, his car skills, and his wits, but what he doesn’t count on is that the gang is loveable and Hoseok’s smile rivals any high he’s ever gotten from being on the job.

Somewhere along the line, Min Yoongi finds himself having to choose between love and duty, his job and the open road.

*This fic is now complete, with bonus chapters. :) <3 It's been a wild ride.

link

admin mai: Hoseok as a hot ass racer? Check. Yoongi as an undercover agent? Check. Jin as another agent and drives a motorcycle? Holy shit yes. Taekook as genius inventors/mechanics? Yes. Namjoon as a hacker? Yep. Jimin as an ace sniper? oh dear god yes. do yourselves a favor and read this somewhat fast and furious au, guys! I really wish the author didn’t hide their account, would be great to find more fics like this.

also please do consider buying us a kofi!  i’ve had a few job interviews so far but i’m not quite sure if i’m going to be hearing back from them soon, so even one kofi would definitely go a long way! thank you and borahae! 💜

[bottomkookficrec]

ot7; jungkook/everyone

>> poly fic archive ; ot7 fic archive <<

you need a north star  (23k, ongoing, 9/10, T)

by desperatelyobsessional

tags: sentinels & guides au ⁎ sentinel/guide bonding ⁎ poly ⁎ guide jungkook ⁎ science fiction au ⁎ star trek fusion au ⁎ basically ⁎ the hyungs are this elite set of super soldiers ⁎ jungkook is a cadet ⁎ they get together ⁎ fluff? ⁎ jungkook is whipped ⁎ soulmate au ⁎ baby boy jungkook ⁎ badass hyungs ⁎ jungkook is a panicked gay ⁎ busting jungkook’s uwus ⁎ royalty au ⁎ ot7 ⁎ jimin is taller than jungkook

summary:

Bangtan were the Crown's set of six elite Sentinels.

They only answered to the Crown, and welded the same amount of military weight as the Crown Prince, if not more. They were Generals, soldiers, professors, Captains, Engineers, Spies, Diplomats, Assassins. Anything and everything the Crown required of them.

Bangtan burned through Guides like cigarettes. No one ever lasted longer than a few months, before becoming sickly ill under the stress that it took to keep even one of the exceptionally strong Sentinels grounded.

Cadet Jeon Jungkook thinks he could ground all six. -- Basically, we need more Sentinel/Guide AUs in the fandom, so here's the hyungs in a polyamorous pack of Sentinels falling for determined Guide Jeon Jungkook.

[longlive-electraheart]

ʙᴀɴɢᴛᴀɴ | sᴇɴsᴇ8 ᴀᴜ

seven strangers are thrust into each other's lives, each other's secrets, and in terrible danger. They share a connection, feelings and abilities as they try to avoid their extermination.