#but from such a close range the bullet from a hunting gun would shatter even a femur

[maounteighn]

Hear me out.

AK-Amputee!Orel

I've already seen mobility aids hcs for Orel, but taken his initial physical trauma + shit show of a medical help he received for it, it's not impossible for his leg to start deteriorating in the future.

i think it's canon that he got a nasty femur fracture from that shot. they were hunting game at least as big as a deer, so the bullet Orel got was also scary big. there's no way he got away with just a crack. it probably was comminuted fracture, it requires more intervention than just a cast. so in the end, his limping was probably coming from incorrectly healed bone and tendon I imagine once he is able to seek competent medical help as an adult, it would be a bit to late to regain anything. In the end, above the knee amputation becomes the only other option.

Of course, amputation comes with it's own issues like nerve damage and phantom pain etc., but is still be better that nothing. Also, he would be able to resume tracking once he heals and learns how to walk and run with a prosthetic.

[ceo-of-masturbation]

.50 Steel Crow

"This is the prince of mayhem, hand cannon, sword of judgement. Take this fucker back to holy land to start your own crusade. Steel Crow's .50 DS caliber insures ego, soul and body shattered with each shot. After shooting your arm might hurt and ears would ring, but it's sheer power makes it up for these issues" - Vendor talking about .50 Steel Crow

Steel Crow is a pistol chambered in .50 DS (Death Sentence). It is one of more powerful, but very inaccurate and expensive weapon. It's magazine size and price of ammo make this gun feel like a gun for someone liking precision or more close combat approach.

Background

Steel Crow was made around the start of the 80's by Hebrew Weaponry Manufacturing and later by Nitro Technologies. It uses various calibers usually used for revolvers or other hi-cal pistols. It was used in a lot of games, movies, games and even in some comics or cartoons. This gun is usually portrayed as good guy or bady guy's main weapon due to it's size and look. However, this gun is actually not that good, besides it's intergrated rails or it's big caliber tending to kill anything in front of it's barrel and behind. Nowadays there are Steel Crow pistols in a lot of configurations. Only CSF, IDF, GOE and GROM are known to use those pistols to any extent.

2. Overview

Steel Crow's main strenght is damage and fairly alright spread. It's intergrated rail on barrel allows to attach various types of sights. One can also purchase a underbarrel picatinny rail to add things like laser sights, flashlights or rangefinder. Steel Crow is very fit for close distance shooting or more slower and precise from medium ranges. One can modify it with compesator, muzzle brake or stocks. There is few models of Steel Crow as well: PF5, S-I, S-VII ,S-XIX and even Police Contractor Package. Gun fires .50 DS, which is shared with Nitro Technologies MFH, HNT Coyote Magnum (another .50 cal by them is GORE-LOT .50 sniper rifle) and AIM Hand Cannon V.

Notable customized versions:

"Major Mindblower" - owned by Karl "Marx" Magnovich. Customized with diffrent finish, stars and scythe emblems and firing .357 instead of .50 DS.

"Bodyguard Duty" - owned by Vortex. Main diffrences is diffrent, three-toned finish, Horde Sink compesator, wooden grips and uses .44 ammunition.

"Big Platty" - owned by Terry Guido. It has platinum finish with golden parts and ivory grips

"Bel Air Brawler" - owned by Jeremiah and put into his customized weapon collection. It has grey finish, Connor Compesator barrel with 'Bel Air Brawler' engraved on it and sometimes can be seen with a Onlooker compact scope. Uses .357 ammo.

"The Holy Equalizer" - owned by original Eve. Modifications include indigo colored iron sights, Long Joe barrel and stainless pink finish.

3. Behind The Scenes

-Steel Crow is based on Desert Eagle, along with HWM parodying IMI, original creator of Desert Eagle. Another manufacturer of Steel Crow is a parody of Magnum Research. HWM's name is a analogy for IMI, while Nitro Technologies is a play on Magnum Research (Nitro comes from Nitro Express, bullets used to hunt animals).

-Some Custom Steel Crows are based off various Desert Eagles made for movies or tv shows, "Major Mindblower" is based on Deagle seen in The Boondock Saints, "Big Platty" was created around custom Desert Eagle seen in Sopranos and "Bel Air Brawler" is based on Desert Eagles seen in The Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day, but with some visual diffrences and occasionally can be seen with a scope.

-The name of main cartridge and weapon description are reference to movie Death Sentence.

-Some unique parts are named after movies, games or other things:

Connor Compesator comes from name of Connor McManus from The Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day, same for Murphy Custom Silencer for Barista 92

Golden Eye Laser System is based on laser sight mounted on a Desert Eagle seen in 007: Nightfire

PF5's name is a nod to game Phantom Forces, where L5, PF5's inspiration appears

Police Contractor Package's first letters for PCP, which is type of illegal narcotics

Hawk Lighter custom muzzle is a nod to Lightning Hawk from Resident Evil and it's design is based off real life airsoft replicas when drawn in more detail

Leon Biohazard barrel is same barrel as seen on Desert Eagle Leon Custom airsoft replica

Long Joe barrel is a play on term "Long Johnson" which is a usually jokingly used term for a penis

[katelyn--renee]

Composure

Title: Composure

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader/(Y/N) Winchester (mentioned), Harper Winchester (OC, mentioned), Daniel Winchester (OC, mentioned), Crowley (mentioned)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader

Words: ±2670

Description: Dean and (Y/N) take their shot at a normal life and settle down. Over the years, they have a few kids. Things are good. Until they’re not. What will Dean do when his past comes back to put an end to his happily ever after?

Written For: @deanwanddamons ​ 2K Celebration! Congratulations babe! That’s awesome! My prompt will be in bold -  “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.”

Warnings: ANGST! Descriptions of blood. Mentions of breaking and entering. Kidnaping. Show level violence/outbursts of anger. 

Author’s Note: This is in correlation with another fic of mine, Sweet Cherry Pie. It takes place about twelve to thirteen years after that one, to give you a brief timeline. There will be other fics with that original storyline, so stay tuned.

Thank you so much to @wonder-cole​ for being my beta for this wonderful piece and helping me with the title. You’re awesome and much appreciated! She has some amazing work of her own, so please do yourself a favor and check it out! Check out @talesmaniac89​ for more awesome page dividers!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any photos or gifs, all rights go to original creators/owners.

Interested in more of my work, check out the link below.

Masterlist

The rain was heavy tonight, thick and angry as it poured from the dark clouds above. The fat raindrops were noisy against the single paned windows. The water coated the glass surface and made it impossible to see through, even as the flashes of lightning lit up the night sky and cast long shadows through the living room of 35 Maplewood Road. There was a heaviness surrounding the house, as if something wicked had been there.

The home was dark and empty, and the furniture was overturned and broken in places; the sofa was thrown over backwards, the cushions laying discarded across the floor with the end table toppled over beside it. The lamp that had occupied its surface was shattered to pieces on the wooden floor, and the rug had been stained with something dark and red. 

The coffee table was shoved out of place, the glass surface no longer there in one piece and the mirror that hung in the hallway had a spider web like crack across the surface, hanging now only by one screw. In the very center of the crack, something crimson and shiny caught the lighting from outside, almost as if someone’s skull had been smashed there.

The familiar idling of Baby’s engine grew louder as Dean pulled in the driveway of his home, the brakes squealing as he came to a stop and put the Chevy into park. A feeling of dread began to knot into his stomach, making the muscles of his jaw flex as he tried to bite back the feeling. Something was wrong; all those years of hunting and honing his instincts told him that much. Not a single light was on inside of the home and yet, (Y/N)’s car was parked out front. Not good.

Dean fished his phone from his jacket and swiftly unlocked the screen with a swipe of his thumb across the glass, dialing the number he knew so well. Pressing the receiver to his ear, he waited while the call rang out once... twice… “Come on, (Y/N/N).” He muttered under his breath as the fifth tone sounded. Her voice greeted his ear, but it was artificial; the recording of her voicemail, Hi, you’ve reached (Y/N)... 

“Damn it.” He cursed between gritted teeth and ended the call. He tried again, pressing redial. “Come on, baby, answer your damn phone!” He shut his eyes when he got the same results as before, cursing to himself as he shoved the device back into his pocket.

Never taking his eyes off the front of the house, he leaned over for the glove box and swiftly unlatched the compartment door, just as he’d done a million times before. Green eyes continued to scan for any signs of movement, even through the thick wall of rain that coated the windshield, despite the efforts of the wiper blades. 

Reaching a steady hand inside, he pulled out a pocket sized flashlight and his beloved stainless steel Colt, the engraving on the barrel catching the lightning as it bolted across the sky. Expertly, he removed the clip with a press of his thumb and double checked the bullets inside before sliding it back into the place, securing it with another click. It’d been years since he’d held the weapon, but the pearl coated handle felt just as natural as breathing against his palm.

Leaving the Impala’s engine running, Dean climbed out from behind the wheel and shut the door, the hinges creaking with age. Clicking on the flashlight, he approached the home with long, yet cautious strides, his booted feet silent in his approach, even through the heavy rain. 

His mind was racing with every terrible possibility, his guilt threatening to eat him alive as images of his family, in the worst possible outcome, flashed before his eyes. It made his blood run cold. His heart was pounding rapidly with fear, pushing the adrenaline through his veins and forcing him to move forward rather than let the panic overwhelm him.

He tried to peer inside the living room through the set of windows lining the front of the house, but it did little to ease his uncertainty; if anything, it only made it worse, only able to make out long shadows and dark shapes. His clothes were completely soaked through, hugging his large frame by the time he’d reached the front porch, the coolness of the rain chilling him to the bone. Droplets of water dripped down his face and the tip of his nose, and his hair clung against his forehead.

Approaching the large red door, his scowl only deepened, darkening his features when he discovered that it had been left unlatched, allowing in a single beam of light with each flash from the storm overhead. He glared at the lock and then narrowed his eyes as something caught his attention, the muscles there twitching. Stretching a hand out, he examined the wooden surface, his fingertips grazing over the chipped paint and splintered wood. Someone had broken in.

Taking only a moment to compose himself, Dean exhaled slowly and swallowed back his apprehension, forcing himself to go on. Using the weight of his body, he nudged the door open cautiously and poked his head inside. The experienced hunter kept his gun aimed high and at the ready, his finger hovering over the trigger. Wrist over wrist, Dean held the flashlight steady with the opposite hand, the beam unmoving, providing him with some light through the darkness.

All of those years of training were put to the test as he stepped through the threshold of his home, his expression as hard as stone and giving away absolutely nothing, despite the fear that was boiling just beneath the surface. His eyes darted around the room, following the beam of his flashlight, taking in every detail of his surroundings just as he’d been taught all those years ago.

Following the layout of the house, Dean came to the living room first, stepping over the broken furniture and discarded decorations. The sight of his home in this state made him uneasy and that much harder to keep his cool, able to sense the panic starting to creep in. Where was (Y/N)? Where were the kids? Who had done this to his family? Was it revenge?

Another flash of lightning caused something slick and shiny to catch his eye, and Dean let out a shaky breath. Hesitating for only a moment, he crossed the room and crouched down next to the sofa to investigate, the troubling sight seized his heart. There was a substantial amount of blood there, a large pool of crimson that had soaked into the fibers of the rug. 

Near the top of the stain, a gold chain necklace was lost within the mess and a thin layer of another substance was scattered around it. It was almost yellow in color and had a very distinct, very specific scent that accompanied it. Touching the surface of the floor next to the stain, Dean felt something grainy under his finger tips. Lifting it to his nose, the smell of sulfur invaded his senses. Demons.

“Fuck,” He cursed, the boom of the thunder shaking his house as it lit up his face simultaneously. Still crouched, he plucked the necklace out of the sticky crimson mess and glared at the amulet with a heavy gaze, his hand shaking. He shut his eyes and closed his fingers into a fist, the knuckles turning white around the piece of jewelry. It belonged to (Y/N). It had been a gift, a charm to ward off evil and prevent possession.

This was all his fault. He should have known better. Hell, he did know better and yet, he ignored it, because he had a chance to finally be happy. To have an actual family and live the normal, apple pie life he’d always wanted. And now the ones he loved were missing and more than likely dead. Or probably close to it.

His chin quivered for a moment and hot tears stung at the corners of his eyes, his emotions getting the better of him. How could he let this happen? How could he be so stupid and reckless? He knew better, damn it! Once a hunter, always a hunter. There is no getting out of the life, not entirely, because those evil sons-of-bitches will always be out there. 

One way or another, they always find a way to catch back up to any hunter who has tried, and every single time it ends bloody and messy and violent. He needed to find them, he just had to. And he would save them, no matter what it cost. He’d pay it.

Releasing a heavy breath, he opened his eyes and willed the tears away, shoving the emotions back down into the pit of his soul. Despite his efforts, a solitary tear made it’s escape, dripping down his left cheek and onto the color of his shirt before he could stop it.

Dean rose to his full height and squared his shoulders, prepared to continue his search. Sliding the necklace into his jacket pocket with care, he followed the trail into the hall with a heavy heart. 

Glass cracked and snapped under his boots as he walked through the space, his jaw flexing when he saw the picture of his family shattered on the floor. Their happy faces only added to his grieving heart and guilty conscious, their smiles making his soul ache.

That had been a good day, nearly five years ago now; (Y/N) had worn his favorite blue dress that day, the strapless one that stopped right above her knees and showed off her sexy legs. 

She had on that silly - but achingly cute - oversized tan hat that kept the sun from her eyes. He would always tease her about that goofy hat, but she never cared what others thought of her, never ceasing to be herself, no matter what.

They’d gone to the park that day, had an actual picnic and he’d played catch with his son while the girls giggled and painted their nails...  They even taught the twins how to ride their bikes that day. They couldn’t have been more than seven years old.

Harper had caught on much quicker than her brother, of course, taking after her mother in that way. Those girls were naturals at almost everything they did, only needing to try something a few times before perfecting it. That had been something he’d adored and admired about his wife and it was a huge part of what made her such a skilled hunter when they met.

Daniel, on the other hand, had to take the time to understand how something worked first. He needed to study the mechanics of things, take them apart, rebuild and understand it completely, inside and out, before he was able to master it. Danny often reminded Dean of the Winchester side of the family. That had been a good day, one of many they’d shared together.

Brought out of his memories by another angry boom from outside, Dean pressed on. Where the picture had once hung, there was a bloody handprint smeared on the white wall, the two colors contrasting greatly. 

The blood streaked out toward the kitchen, giving the hunter a clear path to follow. Damn it. Dean grit his teeth. It felt as if something had his heart in a vice, squeezing it tighter and making it increasingly difficult to breathe the further he went.

His emotions were threatening to break through the surface again, fighting hard against his resolve, but he held his ground against them, purely focused on finding his loved ones. Now was not the time to break down. Following the trail of blood and debris, he checked each room along the way, trying to be as thorough as possible. He couldn’t afford to miss a damn thing. 

Their bedrooms were empty, and unsurprisingly, every inch had been torn apart. Dean’s chest heaved with emotion, his breath hitching in his throat; if anything happened to those kids, he would never be able to forgive himself.

Continuing on, the hunter emerged into the next room, and found much of the same; broken furniture, shattered pictures and even more blood. But not a single sign of his family. The sliding glass door had been left open, allowing the rain from the storm to collect onto the tile floor. 

Dean shut his eyes and took several deep breaths, his chest aching with every forceful beat of his heart. He needed to call Sammy, needed to form a plan. When he opened his eyes, something on the countertop caught his eye; a sheet of paper. Cocking his head with curiosity, he crossed the room in three long, determined strides.

It was a note, addressed to him.

It’s been too long, darling. How’s Moose? Hope the wife and kids are well...oh, wait, that’s right, you’re as clueless as ever. No surprise there. Before we get to the fun bits, let’s talk business; I need a favor and you and your giant of a brother are going to help me. Now, to ensure that things go as planned, I have something of yours. I assure you, they are safe. For now. Do as I ask, and they will be returned to you, alive. So, Dean, dear, let’s make a deal, shall we? You know where to meet me.

Squirrel,

Yours truly, 

The King of Hell

“Crowley.” Dean growled deep in his chest, his teeth clenched as his blood began to boil over with rage. “Goddamn it!” He shouted, swiping the contents of the counter onto the floor. “Fuck!” He kicked something across the room, too angry to pay much attention to it as it slammed into the stainless steel refrigerator. He swung at the closest surface, his fist connecting with a nearby wall.

The drywall collapsed around his fist as the plaster fell to the floor at his feet. His knuckles were screaming at him, but he didn’t care, too fueled by his rage to notice. What could Crowley possibly need their help with? It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, they would get it done and save his family. Crowley would get what’s coming to him; Dean would make damn sure of that.

Taking a few calming breaths, Dean removed his phone with a bloodied hand and opened his contacts, scrolling through the names until he found what he was searching for. Sammy. Dialing the number, Dean held the phone to his ear with baited breath. After the third ring, Sam’s voice came in through the other end, sounding concerned because of the late hour, “Dean? Everything alright?”

Dean shook his head, his vision blurring with tears. He cleared his throat, trying to prevent it from shaking too much. “No, Sammy. It ain’t alright.” He admitted, gripping the counter with his free hand, bracing himself. He wanted to crumble onto the floor, his body trembling; his mind flooded with so many different emotions, each of them trying to overpower the other: fear, guilt, anger, heartache…

“Dean, what is it?” The younger Winchester questioned, the worry evident in his voice. “Is it (Y/N)? The kids? Is everyone okay?” He waited patiently on the other end, but Dean could hear him moving around; he assumed his brother was getting his things ready to head out.

“Damn it, Sammy,” Dean’s voice broke as a few tears slipped through the cracks, “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” He shook his head, allowing himself a moment to break, his chest heaving. “We were out!” He slammed his fist down onto the counter, terrified and angry.

“Dean, what’s going on?” Sam pleaded, wanting desperately to help his big brother. 

“Crowley.” Dean clarified, going into more detail as he composed himself and straightened his stance, “Crowley’s taken them.” He took a calming breath, his moment of weakness over. “I need your help, Sammy.”

“Already on my way.”

Annnnnnd there you have it. I hope that wasn’t too rough on the heart? No worries, there may or may not be a part two in the works? We shall see. ;) 

Anyway, if you enjoyed that, please like and comment and if you’re feeling a little extra generous, share it with your friends, too! You’re feedback is like GOLD! As always, thanks for reading! 

Taglist!

Supernatural

@akshi8278​ // @flamencodiva​ // @perpetualabsurdity​

[jawritter]

Scars

Summary: The truth can be ugly, scars go deeper than superficial wounds, somethings we will always carry. Can you handle the ugly truth, and still see the love of your life in the same light? 

Rating: Explicit 

Warnings: DARK FIC! Mentions of past injuries, Dean’s physically not so pretty in this one, so if that kind of thing bothers you be warned. Language, smut, unfeeling smut, angst, there’s hardly no fluff in this one. unprotected smut, years of hurt feelings and resentment. Issues from growing up in the life. I think that’s about it.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2713

This fic created for:@spndarkbingo! 

Square Field: Resentment.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much love! 

A/N: The artwork featured in the banner is not my own, and all rights belong to the artist, whom I was unable to pin down. Please do not copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one!

Want More? Check out my MASTERLIST. Still want more? BECOME A PATREON!

Fuck if it didn’t all happen so fucking fast. One minute, you were  running behind Dean up the stairs of the old victorian style manner, chasing a witch with guns drawn, witch killing bullets cocked and loaded into the chamber. Then boom, the bitch appeared out of nowhere and now you  all three of you were pressed against one of the mold-covered walls in what you assume used to be a bedroom by an invisible force. She stalked back and forth in front of the three of you like a tiger about to pounce. 

“So, this is the great Dean and Sam Winchester,” she taunts as she continues to pace in front of  you. “You know, I honestly thought that you would be smart enough to not come in guns blazing. The only backup you bring is your pathetic little girlfriend against a witch that is over 400 years old!”

You watched as Dean’s jaw worked and his eyes narrowed in frustration. If looks could kill, she would have died on the spot. 

“How do you know this she my only backup?” Dean mocked, sneering at her as she took a step closer to him. “How do you know I don’t have someone on their way here right now to put a bullet through your skull?” 

The humorless laugh that belted from the witch as she threw her head back in a whole-body laugh fully intending to mock your hunter boyfriend, made your skin crawl and your blood run cold. 

It wasn’t entirely untrue. Cas and Jack were on their way here right now, and when they got here, she was going to meet her long-overdue end. Jack may not be able to use his powers right now in order to keep Chuck from finding out of his return, but Cas was fully capable of shooting a gun, and that’s all you needed right now. Just one good shot.

“Oh don’t play with me Dean.You were always  such a flirt, weren’t you?” She says in a seductive tone that makes bile rise in your throat. She takes a step closer and runs her long finger index finger down Dean’s chest. He tries to squirm away from her but to no avail. 

You wanted to scream at her to leave him alone, but there was something holding your jaws closed that you couldn’t see, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t make a sound. A quick panicked look over to Sam told you he was in the same boat, struggling against the invisible bonds that held you all down.His eyes locked on his older brother. 

“You know , that was always something I hated about you,” she said, taking a step back and looking Dean over from head to toe as if he was a piece of meat at a steakhouse she was looking to take home. 

“You always were nothing but a flirt. A worthless, oversexed, daddy favored sack of shit that relyed on good looks and a fuck-all attitude to get you out of sticky situations.”

She cackled as she turned her back on the three of you as she made her way over to the center of the floor, taking you all in  with a satisfied smirk on her face. 

“In fact,” she continued, “I’m going to do you a favor Dean. I’m going to show you the Dean Winchester I can see. The one that hasn’t had all his scars and ugly places covered up by his angel buddy. The one that is disfigured and wretched as the man you feel inside when you look in the mirror.”

Her eyes drifted to you as you struggled against the restraints you couldn’t see. 

“Bet that little bitch of yours won’t find you so attractive then will she Dean? The big strong hunter, the handsome hero, all bravado and chivalry, always the ladies man, revealed for what he really is. Ugly and twisted.”

Before anyone could even blink, the witch pointed her boney fingers at Dean, and twisted her hand in the air. Dean let loose a scream that made your heart standstill in your chest, and a loud shot rang through the air. The witch’s body crumpled to the floor as the three of you fell from your place on the wall, and everything faded to black as your head came into contact with the hard floor.

You came back to reality with a groan as you sat up slowly, your stomach churning in protest with the evident concussion that throbbed at the side of your head. None of that mattered though.The first thought that rolled through your mind was the last thing you heard before the gunshot . Dean screaming. 

You scrambled to your feet as your mobility returned, Sam doing the same on the other side of the room, and both of you hurried to where Cas was kneeling next to Dean’s body that was curled in on itself as if he were a small child, hiding from the monster under the bed. 

“Dean!” Sam yelled, coming to a sliding stop on his knees next to his brother’s body, looking up at the Angel  with utter horror on his face that was enough to stop you in your tracks. “Can you fix it?” he questioned, but the Angel just shook his head as he stood slowly. 

“Not here. We need to get him back to the bunker. From there, I’m sure we can find the resources we need to reverse the spell.” 

You dropped to your knees next to your trembling boyfriend, and tried to move his arms away from his face, earning a yell that made everyone in the room stand still for a moment. 

“NO! Don’t look at me!” he yelled at you, curling more into himself in an attempt to hide from your view.

“Dean, please, let us help you,” you plead with him, but Dean was ever the stubborn  man he always was, and refused to move. 

You give Sam and Cas a look that screamed help. They exchanged a worried look as Sam stripped his jacket from his shoulders, and dropped it over Dean’s face for him to hide into, before Cas and Sam stood him to his feet. 

“Come on Dean, let’s get home, and we can fix this okay,” Sam attempted to console his brother as they made the slow, unstable trip to the Impala that waited out front. Dean was a shaking mess, as Sam lowered him into the back seat, still hiding in Sam’s jacket from view. 

He curled himself up in a ball in the backseat, and Sam motioned for you to get into the front of the car, stopping you from getting into the back with Dean. 

“How bad is it?” you asked him before he opened the door for you. The way he was being,�� was something you had never seen before, so afraid, so vulnerable, and it was horrifying. You could tell by the way Sam was acting it wasn’t something he’d seen all that often either. 

“It’s bad,” was all he’d tell you, before motioning you to take a seat. 

You watched the ball that was Dean in the backseat the whole hours drive back to the bunker, and he never moved, never lifted the jacket from his head. 

When the car was put in park, Dean moved again, jerking the car door open to make a hurried retreat to his room with Sam hot on his heels. Cas’s old truck pulled up next to where you were left standing with Jack in tow. 

You didn’t  say a word as they watched you make your way down the hall of the bunker towards Dean’s room. You weren’t going to rest until he let you see him. Not because you cared how the witch had disfigured him. It didn’t alter your feelings for him in the slightest. You wanted him to know that. 

To your surprise, Dean had left the door unlocked to his room in his hurry to get inside the safety of his own space, and when you pushed the door open the sight that greeted you took every bit of resolve you carried to not scream. 

Dean stood looking in the now shattered mirror that hung on the wall above an old sink, both hands on either side of the porcelain bowl, his shoulders slumped slightly as he looked up to see your reflection in the mirror staring back at him. From his one remaining eye, a large tear rolled down his disfigured face, the terror and resentment he held there pouring from his soul, and out into the surrounding air between you as you closed the door slowly behind you.

If you didn’t know who he was, you probably wouldn’t  have  recognized him. Aside from the eye that looked as if it had been scored from it’s socket, deep, long gashes that would have been almost mortal injuries when they were fresh drove deep white lines into his skin that looked more like crevasses  than scars. 

They went from his forehead, all the way to where his eye used to be, and then across his nose and cheek. There were chunks and bits missing from his ears. One of his hands looked like it had been badly burned on the top of his wrist, and the other was missing more than one finger. There wasn’t a part of his body that didn’t hold some sort of horrific scar. 

He turned to slowly face you, his arms wrapping around his chest as if it could help make him look as small as he felt, his gaze cast down to his feet. He was still covered in mud and dirt from the hunt. Your heart was broken for him. The brave, cocky hunter you fell in love with was broken, and the self hate was radiating off of him in almost tangible waves. 

You made a slow step towards him, a hand outreached to touch the side of his face that wore the most scars, and he jumped back away from you like you had burned him. 

“Dean,” you tried as he shook his head and backed further away from you. “Please Dean, let me…”

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head in disapproval. “No, you can’t, you can’t fix me this time Y/N. She did exactly what she said she was going to do. She turned me into the hideous monster that exists on the inside. The part of me that I can’t run or hide from, it’s open now, and there’s no taking it back.”

Shaking your own head in disbelief of what you were hearing, you made a step closer to him, definitely placing your hand against the rough, uneven skin on his mangled cheek. 

“No Dean, you're not a monster. You’re a hero, a strong brave hunter. You're not damaged and ruined. Even if we never find a way to fix this, it doesn’t matter to me, because you can’t see what I see.”

Dean’s gaze met yours and you swore you could see the hate radiating off of his hard stare. 

“When I sold my soul to save Sammy, I started to have nightmares about what was going to happen to me when I got to hell, what I was going to become. The demon version of myself told me that it knew how much I looked in the mirror, and hated what I saw there.”

Side stepping you, Dean started to strip the clothing from his body, revealing more scars with every new inch of skin that came into view. Even the deep handprint on his shoulders.

“Every mark, every scar on me is a sign of failure,” he said, his voice hard and full of disgust in himself as his hand fumbled with his belt, and his pants dropped to the ground around his ankles. Deep burns on his legs and feet met  in a purple scar, and you had to repress a shudder of horror at the pain he surely felt when these injuries occurred. 

“I lost my eye when I lost a bunch of kids to a Werewolf while in a hunt in Delaware, the same hunt that disfigured my face. Cas fixed it,” he said, still the same air of resentment and disgust. 

“These burns on my legs? They came from hell. The fire’s real Y/N, it’s very real, and it burns clean to your soul.” 

The horror must have been shown in your eyes as he continued to recount each scar as if it was burned into his memory, and by the time he was done, it was evident that even  the scars had been hidden from view, he still carried everyone with him every day, every loss, every failure, everything that he couldn’t fix. He resented himself so much, that you had no real way of knowing when it started, because he had carried it so long that it had become a part of him, of who he was. 

When he finally moved towards you, it shook you so much that you had to visibly blink away the blinding tears that were falling down your cheeks uncensored. 

“So, you still want to be with me now, baby girl, cause I don’t even want to be with me. I’m just as bad as the shit we hunt, I’m just as hideous, and just as fucking ugly as they are.”

You don’t know what made you move. If it was sheer fucking grit, or the fact that words weren’t good enough in that moment, but in  three strides, you closed the distance between yourself, and the man you loved, capturing his mangled lips in a heated kiss that was all tongue and teeth. 

Barely parting, the two of you moved together in the direction of the bed in the center of the room. Dean dropped his clothing as you went with your assistance. There were no sensual touches, no sweet sentiments, no gentle gestures as he used his sheer body weight to push you down on the bed completely bare before him, slotting himself between your legs, nipping and sucking his way from you ear to your pulsepoint, biting down hard enough to leave his mark as his thick length entered your waiting heat. 

There were no loving words as he relentlessly pounded into your body, and the shiver than ran down your spine when your fingertips felt the deep scars running down his back in the form of claw marks left by something that you would probably never see or face, would have been mistaken for pleasure by a bystander. In truth, it was the deep fear that these scars were always there, and you never knew. 

His body, even mangled and battered, drove you higher until you were both a screaming, panting mess. Your orgams washed over you in an unexpected rush, and with two more heavy, deep thrusts, Dean was spilling himself deep inside of you. 

Neither of you bothered to move. Dean just threw the covers over your bare forms as Cas entered the room, pressing his fingers to Dean’s forehead as Sam also came  into the room with a bowl that you could only assume contained a spell. You weren’t paying attention to the details. All you knew was that even though the scars were disappearing in a blinding light, and your Dean, then man you knew so well, down to the last freckle was taking his place, in your mind, you could still see them.

The deep, ugly truth in the form of scars carried more undying inner hate that once you saw, you could never unsee. A brokenness that you could never fix. No matter how they covered it up, they would always be there. Some things just would never heal, and the way Dean resented and hated the man he’d become would never change. The twisted and broken soul that you loved was barely human, and even though you’d never say it outloud, you will never be able to come to grips with the truth. Not because it was ugly and hard to swallow, but because Dean deserved better, but would never get it. That’s uglier than any scar he’d ever carry.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl​ @love-jackles-37-blog​ @miraclesoflove​ @Waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth​ @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​ @softsebastian​ @tatted-trina6​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @hayleeharling​   @flamencodiva​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @bxbyizzy @dirty-pan-goblin​ @itmejado​ @supernatural3002​ @teresa-67​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @hearteyes-j2​ @miss-nerd95​

[inspirationdivine]

Predator and Fae|| Lydia and Kaden

Time: Current Parties: @chasseurdeloup @inspirationdivine Summary: After the basement humans, the full moon, and Regan’s dad, Kaden decides it is time to act.  Warnings: body horror, gun use, domestic abuse mention

Kaden knew he should have had a plan. Ari told him they would make a plan, go in prepared, but he couldn’t wait any longer, not after what Regan had told him, not after what he learned. There was no plan. Nothing but anger. It had simmered low when he was with Regan, but it built up again, boiling and rumbling and spilling over with each step through the woods. Anger that drove him to dig through the back of his closet and pull out the iron, anger that guided his steps towards the town, watching for any sign of her, anger that brought him to follow her as she made her way towards the woods. Good. The woods were practically his home. He grew up learning to fight monsters in the woods. This would be just like any other time. No, that wasn’t true. This time he wasn’t just fighting for himself. Or even humanity. No, this time he was fighting for Regan, Ariana, the countless humans she’d trapped in that basement. If he was supposed to kill the “bad ones,” he had no doubt in his mind now that Lydia was a “bad one.” He kept a good number of paces behind her, picked his way through the woods. He had no plan once they got there, deeper and deeper into the forests. He should go for stealth, keep his advantage. Anger didn’t let him. Anger reached into his holster and pulled out the pistol and shot. He was pretty sure it didn’t hit. It’s not like he aimed. 

 The weight of the last month hung heavy around her chest and rang in her ears - literally. Lydia wanted or needed to let go completely, shed all of that dead weight and surround herself with the only people who could really accept her: other fae, every bit as fae as her. The air tonight contained the last remnants of mushroom spores, calling her home, but Lydia was looking for a different one tonight. Her skin glowed faintly as she hiked out through the trees to find a puddle that might take her to the other side of town, to a kinder, more understanding kind of people while she healed. She was so deep into the forest by now that her wings could hang free too, unrestrained by magic. If there was any warning to hear, Regan’s scream ensured she couldn’t hear it, not until the night air was split open by gun fire. With a shrill yell, Lydia jumped behind a tree, extinguishing her skin and she reached in her purse for her own pistol. What the fuck?

 Looking at her there was no mistaking what she was. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t even like Regan, fae or not. She was something else entirely, something inhuman. It was funny, in the past it was her appearance that would disgust Kaden the most, how very different and monstrous she appeared. The echoes of Regan’s wings he saw in hers only made his blood boil more. She knew. She knew what Regan was and she forced those wings on her without so much as a warning. She killed her father, would have gladly killed him and tormented so many others and felt no remorse. None. It didn’t matter what she looked like; she was rotten inside. Something truly loathsome and disgusting. Kaden shot again, aiming for a wing, the bit that was peeking out from behind the tree. “Why?” he shouted at her, taking several steps closer, gun raised and ready to fire again, feet positioned to run or duck depending on what came next. “Why did you do it?” His words were laced with venom, he wasn’t even sure what answer he was looking for anymore. The anger coursing through his veins barley let him see straight, let alone think clearly. 

 Kaden. Lydia’s heart jumped into the throat, filling her mouth with toxin heavy saliva. She glamoured her wings out of sight, pressing herself harder against the tree trunk. She wrapped her fingers around the cool brass barrel of her own pistol and whimpered as he fired another pistol. A hunter. Not a warden, maybe, possibly, if only because he wouldn’t be dating Regan- unless that was also a trap. Lydia pressed her fist against her lips and counted to three in her head before pointing her pistol around the tree to the sound of his voice and fired back. She needed to get out of reach, Lydia looked around desperately, squeezing the trigger twice more before bolting out of her hiding spot to a thicker, older tree with lower branches. In the dark, he might not notice the nearby mushroom circles until it was too late. If she could get him there, or sneak behind him and spit, or just run… She could do this, she’d have to. Lydia held her hand against her mouth so he wouldn’t hear her whimper.

 The wings faded away and Kaden cursed under his breath. For a moment, he wondered if she had disappeared entirely, even though he was certain that was not how fae magic worked. He heard the gun before he saw it and threw himself out of the way. Fucking fae with a gun. Didn’t they have enough power, enough enhancements and advantages of their own? Kaden pushed himself off of the ground and listened, trying to place everything around him sonically. He cautiously moved his fingers along the pistol, making sure it was cocked and ready to fire at any second should she dare show her face. No movement. “I just want to talk,” he said, attempting to soften his voice, but it remained raw and ragged with fury. Probably because he wanted to do more than talk. He wanted answers but he wanted to make sure the pain ended here. He inched ahead, taking slow steps as silently as he could. He was pretty sure he heard her pounding heartbeat just ahead and he swung wide, hoping to catch her from the side. 

 Lydia could barely make out what he was saying, but considering the recent gunshots, she really wasn’t sure it was important. Survive, don’t talk. Lydia trembled against the tree, slowly twisting until her front was facing it, not her back. She couldn’t hear him at all, couldn’t see him anywhere, so Lydia had to pray as she opened up her wings again and flew herself up into the branches, landing on the first almost silently before hopping up to the second. She spit into her hand, smearing it on each branch as she went, just in case he did spot her and could somehow give chase. Once she felt high enough, Lydia began to look for a tree to fly to, to get out of his reach. She just had to get back to her car and get the fuck out of here. Lydia squeezed her eyes shut as she trembled, before forcing herself to move again.  

 Kaden saw her and sent shots firing right at her wings as she fluttered up into the trees. Fuck. She kept climbing. Was he really going to climb a fucking tree after a fae? He thought about it for a moment, but what was he even going to do from up there? Aiming would be harder, balance would be out of the question even if he did get in range to use a knife. No, he’d just aim better, concentrate closer. He watched through the trees and unloaded the rest of the round where he saw movement. “You killed Regan’s father,” he said as he tossed the gun back in the holster, bullets unloaded for the moment. “You tried to kill me and Ariana. Why? Did you think you’d get away with it?” he asked as he pulled the crossbow off his back, iron tipped bolts ready and loaded. He crouched down and aimed up at the branches, looking for the movement of her wings, listening, too. Exhaled, he was confident it would hit, and let bolt after bolt fire up through the trees. If he was lucky, one would rip right through her wing. 

 Lydia had leant forward, ready to launch herself in flight into the next tree, when the branch in front of her shattered, throwing splinters all over her. Jerking back, Lydia shrank herself down as much as the bark around her exploded with fire after fire. One whistled past her ear, another hit the branch right under her hand, driving a sharp shard of wood into her palm. Lydia screamed and barely suppressed a sob, but the gunfire stopped. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t let him corner her like she had let the vampire before. This couldn’t be a repeat. Lydia straightened and ran along the branch, throwing open her wings to catch her as she threw herself at the next tree. She didn’t hear whatever hit her, only felt a lightning bolt of heat shred through her left wing. Lydia spun in the air as she lost altitude, misfiring twice before careening to the left and crashing into the ground. Coughing as the impact winded her, Lydia glamoured her wings back out of sight to shrink the target, rolling to look at Kaden who was suddenly far too close. Her mouth wet, she spat right for his face before scrabbling to her feet and collapsing behind a tree, a scream held trapped between her teeth. Already, the stress was beginning to break her glamour, the heat of iron searing through her focus. Any sense of direction was lost, but Lydia breathed in deeply, tasting the spores. She could only follow the call to the circle now, and hope he followed. 

 The sounds above him all but confirmed he hit her somewhere. Then there was the thud of a body hitting the ground. Kaden didn’t waste a second and darted towards the sound, loading another bolt as he went. He knew full well that leanan-sidhe pheromones lived in their saliva, they were dangerous, usually transferred by kiss. There were reports in the hunter journals he’d combed through about spitting fae. He thought they were lying but here she was, proving him otherwise. He sidestepped and the saliva splattered on his shoulder, dripping down his jacket. He snarled in disgust and nearly went to wipe it off with his bare hand. No. Skin contact was all it took. He rolled his shoulders back and carried on. He’d been covered in far worse in his years of hunting. A little spit wasn’t going to slow him down. He ran after her, following the sounds of her breathing, there were barely any of her footsteps. The glamour was fading. Good. It made what he had to do easier. Much. In more ways than one. He was close. She was just within reach. He lunged out for her wing. At first his fingers fumbled, the wings fading away, the glamour making them intangible. He ran faster, pushed himself a pace farther and tried again. This time his bandaged hand wrapped around the wing, what he could get of it, at least, and he yanked down on the piece of her that he had in his grasp.

 Her legs burned with exertion as she ran, kicking up leaves behind her hiking boots as Lydia tried to keep trees between him and her, giving him a harder target. Her lungs had nearly ruptured just days ago, and no amount of supernatural life force would heal her fast enough. The world was muffled - she could almost never hear her own footsteps, but now she could barely hear his. Lydia whipped her head around and grimaced at how close he was, pushing her legs even harder through the burn, the feverish heat in her wings, everything, only to choke as she jerked to a hard stop, her wing joint popping out of place. Lydia cried out as she was yanked back and thrown to the ground, rolling over to point her gun at Kaden’s chest, looking right up at the shining iron bolt in the weapon in his other hand. Lydia didn’t give him a chance to shoot first, pushing herself up with the other arm as she fired. 

 There was a reason why Kaden jogged every morning even though he hated it, why he kept his weapons clean and ready, why he practiced  his aim over and over again in the woods, and why he’d trained for years. It was for moments like this. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, his lungs heaved but the pain didn’t bother him. All it did was push him forward, force him to find the rhythm of the hunt. It had been a while since he was there in this space. That spot where it was nothing but adrenaline and instinct carrying him and the certainty that he was going to make his mark. He’d got her, but not for long. And when she rolled over, he was keenly aware that he should have considered Walker’s method of wearing kevlar out in the field. Fuck. He let loose the crossbow bolt as soon as he saw the pistol raised towards him, throwing himself forward and to side away from the bullet. He roared with pain as he toppled onto the forest floor against branches and rocks. He pushed himself up and used the pain and adrenaline spilling out from him to throw himself at her, hoping to tackle her to the ground and pin her down. Maybe then he could get some fucking answers. 

 The bolt split through her coat, tearing through the muscle of her arm. The burn spread through her like wildfire, paralysing her torso as the iron burn made it hard to breath. Adrenaline pounded through Lydia as she got her knees under her, only for the air to be knocked out of her as the mass of Kaden sent her sprawling, crushing her under his weight. She couldn’t quite reach his face as she dug her nails into his arms where she could, scratching him where she could. Lydia kicked out underneath her, trying to leverage him off of her with little success. Lydia pulled her glamour in tight even as the iron tore at the shreds of her control. “No, stop, get off-” Lydia hissed, before flashing her skin as bright as she could, turning her whole body into a flickering strobe, her light reflecting off the canopy above them. At once, she pulled hard through her hands at the ley lines of his life force. She couldn’t take much, but Lydia was grasping for everything. 

 Kaden grit his teeth, bit back against the stinging spreading across his forearms. He dug his knee into her side, doing what he could to pin her down as he braced his arm and pushed it down towards her neck even as she fought against him every step of the way. “No,” he said back, voice almost a growl. “Not until you--” Any illusion she was human or close to it faded away as she dropped her glamour. His vitriol would have to wait as he flinched away and shut his eyes, instinctively covering his face with his arm. Fuck, there went his advantage. Before he could reach out and try to pin her down again, she was on him. And he could feel his energy slipping away. His grip was slipping and he could feel his muscles growing weak. No. He wasn’t giving up now. He pushed ahead, forced past the shaking muscles and tried to turn her over, keep her face away from his. The wings would be in the way. That was fine. He’d work around it. “Why? What fucking reason,” he pushed out, ever word a struggle, “could you possibly have for any of this?! Any of it!?” 

 Lydia screamed bloody murder as he forced her onto her belly, blood smearing across his clothes and the forest floor as she flailed and kicked out. He pressed against her bloody wing and the pain slammed into her so hard she saw stars. She tried to twist to spit but couldn’t get any grip. Lydia needed to be smarter than this. “Can’t- Can’t- Barely breathe,” Lydia spluttered, not entirely truthfully, but she needed to get her arms under her. She needed a single mistake to make use of the strength feeding had given her. She squirmed all the same. Lying still would be giving up, would be surrendering herself to whatever wretched torture device he had hidden in her pants. A frantic tear slipped her cheek as she smacked her wings against his body, but those muscles weren’t built for moving tall human men. She flashed her skin harder and faster, digging her fingers into the ground to find some kind of purchase before whipping her head back, grunting as she smacked his face with her head, and used that to attempt to squirm out from underneath him, trying to work out where she’d dropped her gun in all this, if she could even get him off her. She wasn’t going to die to an uncivilised French brute.

 Kaden twisted and pushed down, gripping with every bit of strength he could muster to keep her pinned to the ground. “Barely is still breathing,” he snarled. Her wings spastically twitched and tried to free themselves from under his grip. He took hold of the base of one and yanked it, twisting it to the side. It wasn’t enough to sever the connection, but he knew it had to hurt like hell. The only other set of wings he’d touched even remotely similar were Regan’s. He usually left the more human looking fae to wardens. For a split second the wings weren’t Lydia’s they were Regan’s. He saw his bandaged hands and all he could see was her. Was it a glamour or his imagination? His hold on her loosened ever slightly. But it was enough. “Fuck!” he shouted as her head slammed into his. His nose hurt like hell and he was sure if it wasn’t gushing blood, it should be. He wanted to wipe it away with his forearm but there was no time, she was going to get away. He climbed to his hands and knees before he reached out for a limb, any limb, feet, arms, wings, whatever he could get. He grabbed onto a wrist and wrenched her arm towards him, rotated it and held it taught just long enough to bring his foot around and slam his heel down right on her forearm. The bones cracked and he hoped they shattered to pieces and fragments, one for every fucking life she’d taken. 

 The iron burn in her arm ate into her like necrotic tissue, turning her strength to rot. Random twigs scratching her palms and knees, as she crawled through the mud and the bugs. Her injured wing drooped closer and closer to the ground as the burn there made her feverish, shrinking down the world to an ever-smaller cone of vision. Each breath of air threatened to choke her as Lydia tried to get away from this monster. Lydia felt his fingers on her once and managed to jerk away, but the second time wasn’t so lucky. He pulled at her uninjured arm, and as he did the burned one took all her weight - and failed. Lydia collapsed with a yell, trying to twist and kick at him. He had trained for this, she thought sickly, he had trained for decades at how to dodge kicks and brutalise terrified creatures. His whole life was dedicated to destruction. How there was anything worth loving in him was a goddamn mystery. Lydia twisted and jerked and couldn’t quite work out what he was doing until he brought his foot down on her arm. Lydia flinched away, shutting her eyes as the bone snapped underneath his leg. A scream tore through her throat as she crumpled, tears streaming down her face, smearing through the dirt. “Stop-” Lydia groaned, “Please, stop…” His face was rage incarnate as she looked up at him in the dark, a hellish inferno. All hunters worked for the devil. And yet, the mushroom spores were thick in the air. Lydia kicked at his chest, and crawled the last little stretch, into one of the last mushroom circles. Come get me now, you piece of human shit. 

 Her words didn’t have any effect on him. Kaden wouldn’t let them. They couldn’t be used as a weapon now. Not through binding nor manipulation; magical or otherwise. She could beg or plead all she wanted, but she didn’t deserve his mercy. And he didn’t plan on granting it simply because she fucking asked. “No,” he spat back at her. “Did you ever stop when they a--” The words were kicked out of his chest as she scrambled away. He gasped for air and turned towards her, pulling herself away desperately. Then pausing. Ever slightly. Like she had found safety just a few feet away from him. His eyes darted around looking for a weapon or a tree she could climb up or drop on him, what her advantage might be that imbued her with such confidence. He didn’t see it, but she was getting away, not time to check. He lunged for her, trying to grab her feet once more when he saw what his arm reached out across. A line of foliage. A very distinct line of different colors from the rest of the grass and dirt. Mushrooms. He jerked his arm back towards him, ire shooting from his gaze as he watched her inside what he had to assume was a circle. A fairy ring. Pushing himself up, Kaden took one step forward, toes at the edge of the line of mushrooms. He watched her closely, hoping to see the hope leave her eyes as he stomped down on the fungi, twisting and turning his heel to stomp them out once and for all. He had to wonder how many times she’d seen hope drain from her victim’s faces as she fed from them, tormented them. Even then, he didn’t think she had it in her to feel a fraction of it. That would require having feelings at all. 

 Lydia cradled her arm. Where the bone was shattered it bent at an unnatural angle, and as she tried to push it back into place she could barely suppress her own screams. Her other arm burned with the iron cut, flashing hot and ice cold as she tried to move it anyway. Her skin was slick with sweat and shivered from blood loss and fear as she watched him pause too. Her stomach filled with tar as he looked down, seeing something that even Lydia barely could. He brought his foot down and Lydia sobbed as her confidence was stripped out of her along with the ring’s magic. There was no solace nor joy to be found here, not anymore. Lydia stared up at the hunter, and for a long moment only saw the reaper. He was watching her too, delighting in her terror. As he was with Regan, every single day. It was hard to believe, as Lydia’s strength bled out of her with every rabbit-fast beat of her heart, that he was capable of even the simulation of love. For a second, despair took her; it would be easy to give up. Let Regan’s last scream be her death toll. Lydia’s terrified eyes flicked to an opportunity, and with a cry as she beat her shredding wings just enough to get to her feet, Lydia reached for his holster, his gun. She cried at the jagged pain of jerking her burned arm that fast, as she pointed it right at his face. Regan hadn’t screamed for her, just at her. Lydia’s finger blistered, but she didn’t flinch as she pulled the trigger. 

 Kaden was so sure when he stepped out into the forest, he would be the only one to leave. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind. If this was going to be his final stand, Regan would know. She would have screamed, she would have told him. He knew that. He had to. So he’d been brandished with confidence up until the very moment she pulled out his own gun from his holster. His eyes went wide and he tried to grab for the gun but it was too late. She had it in her hands. She pulled the trigger. He shut his eyes, braced himself, waited for the end.

 Nothing. There was nothing.

 But he was alive. Still breathing. His eyes flew open and he slammed the gun out of her hand and grabbed her broken wrist to hold her in place. He pulled out his knife with his free hand, pressed the tip of the blade to her chest. Then…

 Nothing.

 He stood there. Watched her writhe in pain and try to get away. He saw the wings flicker in and out of his line of sight, the one bent and broken like her arm. The hardness in his face started to fade, shifted to blank uncertainty. He could ask her why. He could ask her to explain herself. He could ask anything. But his resolve was dissolving. And he wasn’t sure that any answer at all would satisfy him. “Why?” The anger was no longer searing, no longer burning through him as hot as it had been. But he needed something. This had to be worth something.

 Instead of a bang that would have rattled her skull nearly as much as Regan’s scream, the gun just clicked. Lydia looked from his eyes to the barrel, but it wasn’t even smoking. Her brow furrowed in confusion, unable to fully comprehend until Kaden moved in a blur. His hand crushed her bones. It felt like an electric fire where she could feel the shard grinding against him. Lydia’s vision went black, and the blade pressed against her chest like ice. Lydia stared into it. It was all of a sudden like peace. It felt like Deirdre playing with her hair, throwing flour at Remmy as cupcakes baked in the oven, like her brother playing riddle games with her until one ended up promise bound into doing laundry for a year. It was the cold, icy grip of acceptance, in the hands of a hunter with no more cards in her hand. Even her mouth was beginning to dry up.

 Only for Kaden not to cut through her. He gave her a question, and Lydia saw the chance to do what she did best: talk. But the words out her mouth were broken and grating, more like a beggar than a master negotiator, babbling and barely coherent. “The longer I waited before she woke up, the more she would have suffered. I wanted to minimise that! She never should have suffered this much to begin with. That’s why! That’s the only reason!” Lydia sobbed, her knees buckling under the weight of her pain. She couldn’t bite back the scream that ripped through her throat, white stars erupting behind her eyelids. The world spun, the point where Kaden gripped her arm becoming a searing singularity. Her cheeks felt hot where tears stung her scraped up skin. “Please. I’ll leave. I’ll never come back, you’ll never hear from me again. Kaden, please!”

 The anger flared back and Kaden tightened his grip on her broken wrist, his knuckles throbbing under the bandage from putting his fist through the wall the other night. All the pain did was add fuel to the flames. “Then why didn’t you help her?!” he screamed. “You didn’t prepare her! You didn’t warn her! You did nothing.” It was so tempting to push the blade in. That’s all it would take to end this. “You tried to kill Ariana. A teenager. A fucking-- For what?! Pride? Vanity? What?!” A little bit of pressure was all he needed, one good shove of the knife. “Those people. All those people in your fucking basement. How many people have you killed? Tortured?!” Done. It could all be done. But he held his weapon still, clenched his jaw. He should stab her, let her bleed there, crying in pain and regretting any choice she made that led her there. She was fae. Supernatural scum. A “bad one” if he ever saw it. He ought to do what he was meant to do, what he was born to do. His duty. It would be so easy. He should kill her. No, he had to kill her. For everything she did. For everyone she--  

 His hand released like her skin burned him; took a step back like he was startled. The knife nearly dropped but he kept his fingers wrapped around it. Just in case. Just in case he got his courage back. Just in case he found who he was again. But all he could think was he didn’t want to be like her. He couldn’t be that. A monster. A murderer. The body count. The callousness. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do it. 

 He had to. He had to. He leaned forward on his toes, ready to finish this. The anger flowed, coursed through his veins, he was ready to end it. Ready to lunge forward. Nearly did. But instead he screamed; turned to the side, away from her. Fuck. Fuck. Why couldn’t he finish this? What was stopping him? What sort of bleeding fucking heart had he become? “You don’t deserve this,” he grumbled, back to her, knuckles going white around the grip of the knife. “You don’t deserve a single second of mercy.” Every word was dripping with venom and ire. It contained all the rage he wanted to unleash with the knife, bottled up and put into syllables. “But fucking go.” This was stupid. This was too easy. And he had no guarantee she would do as she said. None. Unless... Before she could move, he spun back to face her and reached for her wrist one last time. “Promise me,” he demanded, looking her dead in the eyes. “Promise me that I’ll never see you again. Promise me that Regan and Ariana won’t see or hear from you ever again. Not for as long as you’re breathing.” 

 Had it been like this for her sister? Kneeling in front of a hunter, begging for her life as he held a blade to her chest, his bruising grip making escape impossible. As he hesitated, Lydia should have gotten to her feet, kissed him, spat at him. She didn’t even need to reach his face, his bare hand on her arm should do. In theory Lydia was strong enough to break a man’s skull, neck, or back with her bare hands, even if she didn’t know how.  Lydia had grown up learning to bear the pain of a hundred different promises, but nothing like this. She was beginning to feel cold to the touch, and clammy, the world shrinking until she couldn’t feel the sticks under her legs or the cold air chilling her wet cheeks. There were three things that Lydia felt clearly, and that was only because they seared. There were just three things to keep her grounded.

 He screamed questions that Lydia had no answer for. She had helped, god, she opened her mouth to protest, if that was what he wanted she could list all the ways that she had helped. Instead she only sobbed openly as wave after wave of burning pain pulsed through her. It would be more bearable, Lydia thought, if he had just cut her arm off. But then he wasn’t just talking about Regan, but about something that filled her with ice.

 Kaden let her go. Lydia slumped, barely avoiding falling all the way to the forest floor. She looked up as Kaden set himself up to lunge, weakly raising her arms, her eyes pinching shut. When he screamed, it scared a scream out of Lydia too before she wept, shrinking into herself as she sobbed. “God, please, please make this stop, God, please don’t do this, I don’t-” Lydia choked on her own sobs, but still the knife didn’t come down. She could barely hear Kaden over the ringing in her ears and her own terror, but she heard the ones that mattered. Fucking go. Lydia inhaled shakily, staring up at him in confusion. She could barely make out his face enough to read it, and even then, she wasn’t sure she could recognise that expression. She was too frightened to move, and when he turned back, Lydia thought he had changed his mind. 

 She ought to have negotiated, gotten a promise out of him too. But her tongue was no longer gold but lead. There was every chance she would still die here, slowly trickling out far blood into an equally dead fairy circle. "I promise, I promise!" Lydia coughed and spluttered as the promise began to burn in her, because while he stood there, he was still seeing her. "As soon as I get to my car, I’ll-” Lydia whimpered, flinching away from the ferocity of his gaze, the callous disregard for the burn in her arm as the jagged edges of the shatter bones ground up against each other. Lydia had always known hunters could be cruel, but not like this. “I’ll leave.”

 In most instances, Kaden despised word binding. Fae magic at its finest. All it ever did was hurt people if it had any effect at all. He struggled to find any good in it, few uses. Until now. The guarantee that she would be gone from his life for good, no longer able to hurt Regan or Ariana, gone from White Crest, too, surely; it was worth it. “Fine.” It was all he said. It was all he could say. It felt like a lie searing onto his tongue. This wasn’t fine. Or okay. Or good. It wouldn’t be any of that. Ever again. Thanks to her. The pain and the suffering she caused-- She didn’t even care, did she? Didn’t see it or didn’t want to. The call for violence swelled up in him again but he pushed it back down, buried it. She wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worth anything. Not his ire, not his time, not his mercy, nothing. She was nothing. And she’d remain that way. She’d promised, after all. As he turned away, guilt swirled in his stomach. What was going to stop her from doing this again? From continuing on and on down the same path? Fear? He doubted that. Guilt was out of the question. He knew she didn’t feel it. He wondered if she was capable of feeling it at all.

 There was no good reason to leave her alive. None for humanity, certainly. Nothing redeemable as far as he was concerned. But he still put his knife back in its sheath, grabbed his gun and crossbow off the forest floor, and began to slowly walk away. There was no good reason to. The only thing he could think, the only thing keeping his feet moving forward, was what he was walking away from. The thought that had bubbled to the surface, something told to him long past. He wanted to avoid one more stain on his soul. Killing her wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. She couldn’t bring back what was lost. But he could walk away, out of the forest, out of the place of nightmares, and return home. 

 The moment the ants stopped crawling under her skin, the moment that he was far enough away that she wasn’t in danger of breaking her oath, Lydia fell entirely to the ground, her vision blacking out. It might have been seconds or hours before she opened her eyes again. The bruising on her arm was starting to fade where Kaden had grabbed her too tight. The burns would take weeks to heal, but she did not have weeks. Her promises were already tugging her to her feet. Lydia looked around in shell shock, at her torn clothes, the blood on the leaves, the crushed fairy ring. He had left the job half done. Another inch, and she would be dead. Lydia hiccupped back a sob as she tried to understand, tried to piece together his final sick play. That she couldn’t fit the pieces together left her untethered. She began to trudge slowly back to her car, murmuring prayers to God wiping away tears that still fell. He had just walked away. Was it for Regan? Or so that someone else could take their turn. The word ‘mercy’ flitted in her mind and was laughed out just as quickly. Another person, in a different time, would have not made this mistake. It was all Lydia could think of, between the searing pain and the path ahead. She turned it over and over, like a leaf in her hand. By the time she reached the car and collapsed against the cool metal, there was only one answer that made sense. The answer tied her back to Earth and gave her a direction. Lydia pulled her now cracked phone out of her pocket and began to make calls. She needed to leave soon. Kaden had made a fatal mistake, and Lydia would not be the one to spare him. She liked to clean up her loose ends, even on her way out of a mess.

 Kaden Langley would not survive the week. 

[dragynkeep]

Qrow & Raven vs Tyrian & Hazel

Tyrian: 

Strengths 

- Speed. He’s one of the fastest fighters perfectly capable of keeping up with Qrow, and since both Qrow and Raven are evenly matched in speed, it’s fair to say Tyrian can keep up with Raven too.  - Acrobatics. Not just in his fighting style, but in the way he can use his environment also. If he’s in a place with various levels, he can use them to gain any advantage he can, though it’s less useful in more open areas.   - Semblance. His Semblance is a pretty useful one, as even his opponents’ Aura can’t protect them if he gets his hands on them. A downside, however, is that he needs to physically touch their body, as Clover managed to avoid getting his Aura spliced by blocking Tyrian’s hands with his weapon, which both Qrow and Raven wield.   - Prehensile Tail. That thing is far more flexible than an actual scorpion tail should be but I’m not here to argue biology in a show with cat people.  - Venom. Fast acting to boot, Qrow was almost on death’s door in just half a day. Add in combination that Tyrian can splice through Aura without breaking it first, he can slice and poison opponents at first chance he gets. - Intelligence. Tyrian knows how to spot and pick at one’s weak points, emotionally crippling them. He managed to get right under the usually chill and cocky Mercury’s skin just by saying something over his abusive father. If he figures out Qrow or Raven’s weakpoints, he could deal some serious blows, but I think Raven has far more control over herself in battle compared to Qrow, who’s been pretty hurt over the loss in his life and the curse he believes he is. 

Weaknesses 

- Mediocre at Long Range. Besides his mounted wrist guns, Tyrian doesn’t have many options for long distance. From his fight with Qrow in V4, his guns don’t seem to have that much range in them, and he barely uses them after, preferring to get up close and personal. Given that Qrow and Raven have the ability to put distance between them and their opponents by turning into birds, this can be a problem for Tyrian.  - Personality. Tyrian has a problem of taking a bit too much pleasure in the kill. Repeatedly over his fights, he tends to stop midway to pontificate or savour something before going for the final strike. This has already bitten him in the ass since his slow ways of taking Ruby out the fight allowed Qrow to reach the scene of the fight and save her, ultimately leaving Ruby fit enough to rejoin the fight and ultimately take Tyrian’s original tail. Raven and Qrow won’t let him have too many breaks in an all out fight. 

Hazel:

Strengths  

- Strength. Hazel’s one of the most physically strongest characters in the show, easily outweighing both Qrow and Raven. While Raven and Qrow are certainly faster and has greater agility, if Hazel managed to land a hit on them, it will hurt. - Durability. It’s noted in the show that Hazel’s Aura regeneration is unlike anyone that the heroes had ever seen. Not only does this protect his body from damage, but it means that he can keep it running faster than Qrow or Raven can wear him down, unless they hit him with some serious force that might be possible with Raven’s Maiden Powers.   - Semblance. Feeling no pain would normally not be so useful, and actively harmful in certain situations, but combined with Hazel’s unnatural Aura amount and regeneration rate, this actually works in his favour. Since a person can still feel the pain despite having Aura to protect from actual damage, they can reasonably be stunned from pain if hit hard enough, but Hazel doesn’t have that weakness. Downside is that he wouldn’t know when his body is straight up starting to give up until the effects become apparent.    - Dust Use. Hazel uses dust outside of the typical bullets by injecting raw crystals into his arms, giving him augmented speed and strength, as well as the ability to use both fire and lightning as seen in his only fight in the show. The use of these projectiles give him the ability to go more long distance than he usually is able to, and has the side effects of burning and electrocuting Raven or Qrow if he manages to hit them.

Weaknesses 

- Speed. Besides the use of lightning dust, Hazel isn’t exactly a very speedy person. Realistically, he wouldn’t, given his large frame meaning he has to sacrifice speed for strength. When against Qrow and Raven, who are both very fast and athletic fighters, Hazel would have difficulty in hitting either of them, especially since the blows he managed to get on Qrow in Haven happened because Qrow also had to worry about protecting Oscar.   - Lacking Without Dust. Ultimately, Dust is what turns Hazel from a extremely durable fighter to a serious threat. Take the Dust away or wait until he runs out of crystals, and he loses not only the long range options listed above, but his augmented speed that gives him more of a chance against fast fighters. - Strategy. Really, Hazel doesn’t really show the initiative for strategy? Granted, we’ve only had one fight that he actively partakes in, but even then he just constantly charges and tries to hit his opponents. Unlike Tyrian, he doesn’t really try using cheap tricks or manipulation to gain an advantage, and when he manages to get any lucky shot, it’s more based on the characters acting outside his influence, e.g. him punching Qrow into space because he was trying to protect Oscar, who Hazel would’ve hit instead if Qrow hadn’t pushed the kid outta the way.

Raven: 

Strengths  

- Speed & Agility. Similar to Qrow, Raven is up there alongside Tyrian and way above Hazel, meaning that however fast Tyrian can zip around and use his surroundings to fight, Raven can match him.  - Versatility. Raven has far more in her arsenal than Tyrian and Hazel. On top of her weapon, Semblance, magic in both the Maiden Powers and her bird form granted by Ozpin, she has shown impressive ability to use them all together during her fight with Qrow and Cinder.   - Her Weapon. Raven’s sword has numerous blades that’re made from various types of Dust, giving her spares to wield in the event that the blade of her sword shatters. However, seen in her fight with Cinder, these blades seem more flimsy than other weapons and shatter way more often, and with Raven only having a finite amount of Dust blades, she runs the risk of running out and losing a valuable part of her arsenal and fighting style.  - Semblance. Normally, Raven’s Semblance wouldn’t be that big of an advantage in a fight, since she can only teleport to those she has formed a bond with. Meaning that while she can escape the fight with Tyrian and Hazel, she’d have no means of returning once she’s gone due to no one being there. However, with the addition of Qrow on the battlefield, someone confirmed to have a bond with Raven and allow her to teleport to him, she can reasonably use her Semblance to teleport herself to Qrow, or Qrow to herself, meaning that separating them would be a difficult task to do. - Maiden Powers. As the Spring Maiden, Raven has access to abilities that outclass normal people in the world of Remnant. She can fly, deflect bullets, have access to the elements, can create storms, and her powers are not connected to her Aura like a Semblance is, meaning that here’s no end to what she can do even if her Aura breaks. However, it’s still connected to Raven’s ability to fight, meaning that if she is too exhausted, there’s nothing she can do, similar to Amber and Cinder. - Bird Form. Similar to her Maiden Powers, Raven’s ability to transform into a bird is not reliant on her Aura and has the same advantage of being a technically infinite ability that doesn’t impact on Raven. In use of fighting, her bird form gives her more agility to outmanoeuvre other opponents, especially larger and slower ones like Hazel, allowing her to move into more prime positions to strike back.  - Intelligence. Similar to Tyrian, Raven is supposedly a clever and sneaky woman, capable of manipulating people into situations that end in her favour. While I don’t think she can easily manipulate Tyrian and Hazel like she did Cinder, her intelligence also means she isn’t as easily ruffled by Tyrian as other characters may be. 

Weaknesses 

- Big Ego. A problem with her complete faith in her cleverness and ability to survive. Raven thinks too highly of it, and it’s shown that this is her downfall with Raven refusing to acknowledge any problems in her plans, e.g. stealing a Relic from an immortal witch who would no doubt hunt Raven down and kill her for it. Since it appears that only Yang can get under Raven’s hardened layer and make her acknowledge her mistakes, with not even Qrow there, Raven is going to have a hard time accepting when she’s just not as smart as she thinks, especially against an equally smart and adaptive player in Tyrian. - Fighting Style. While it’s more than her fighting style, Raven has a tendency to copy Yang in that she tries to fight harder rather than smarter. Since her arrogance in her strength and capabilities, along with having taken the Spring Maiden’s powers, Raven more often than not prefers brute shows of strength and magic as opposed to deflect and evasive tactics. She does take cheap shots, such as freezing Cinder’s feet and using her sword to stop her fall only to kick an approaching Cinder again, she does have a preference.   

Qrow: 

Strengths  

- Versatile Weapon & Fighting. Qrow has one of the most combinations in his weapon compared to the more straight forward weapons in RWBY, similar to Blake’s Gambol Shroud. It can be a giant sword, a shotgun, or a scythe, and all of the various forms give Qrow a new set of pros and cons in his fighting, including range, speed and strength. On top of that, he’s shown to be quick on his feet and use whatever he has to fight, including punches, kicks and even any debris around to hit his opponents for him. Out of the fighters in this ask, this versatility outranks even Raven’s.   - Speed. Similar to Raven, Qrow has the speed to keep up with Tyrian and run circles around Hazel.   - Bird Form. All the pros and cons that are listed up in Raven’s category, save for that Qrow has actually been shown to use his bird form in fighting, while Raven has limited herself to using it for spying and retreating.  - Semblance. Qrow’s Semblance is a double edged sword. While he can amp it up to affect his enemies and trip them up so that he has an opportunity to strike, it can also affect Raven. Since he also has no control over it aside from purposely increasing its influence, and is unable to turn it off, Qrow’s Semblance is both an advantage and disadvantage in a fight since he’s fighting with a partner rather than on his own.  - Observant. Likely because of how his Semblance works, Qrow is shown to be far more observant than even Tyrian on the battlefield, looking for weaknesses in the surrounding environment to use to deal damage against his opponents.    - Strength & Durability. Even with all his other strengths, Qrow has been shown to actually possess some considerable strength and durability, able to take numerous blows from not only Tyrian, but Hazel himself, without his Aura breaking and still being capable of fighting afterwards. His strength comes from wielding his heavy weapon; Harbinger, and is shown to punch and kick hard enough to send Tyrian, another fully grown man, several feet away from him.  

weaknesses 

- Semblance. As noted above, since Raven is also on the battlefield with Qrow, his Semblance would affect her just as much as it would affect Tyrian and Hazel.   - Weak Teamwork. Given that he prefers, or at least forces himself, to work alone because of his Semblance, Qrow doesn’t really have the ability to fight well alongside other people. Given that most of his fights are alone, or 1 v 1 in the situation that other people are fighting around him like the Battle at Haven. The few times he actively fights with partners is with Clover, and it could be argued that Clover’s own Semblance likely calmed Qrow down enough to fight without having worry about his Semblance affecting others.  - Personal Blindness to Tyrian. Now, I’m not here to argue the validity of Qrow somehow managing to manipulate Qrow into teaming up against Clover, but Qrow has repeatedly shown that he has a grudge against Tyrian and that his grudge does affect his judgement. Given what happened in the show, it is feasible that his anger towards Tyrian would impact his abilities and focus.   

Verdict: Mixed. It makes sense how Tyrian and Hazel managed to kill most of Mistral’s Huntsmen, some implied to be Qrow’s friends and likely around his own age, so they would no doubt be a serious threat even to Raven and Qrow. However, the addition of Raven’s Maiden Powers tips the scale more in their favour.

Honestly? I think the Branwen twins would win, if by a scrape. 

[boywivlove]

| Please Don't Go |

Kim Seokjin x Reader 

Summary | You and were partners in the Police force, and soon became romantic with each other. After investigating a murder you are gunned down during an on foot pursuit. Not knowing if you will pull through, Jin stays by your side in the hospital, not knowing if he will ever get an answer to questions left unsaid.

Warnings | swearing , blood, descriptions of violence, fatal injuries. 

AN | This is my fic for the `April Showers Bring May Flowers` collaboration with @bangtanscenery​ I hope you enjoy it! I based the concept on the song `Please Don't Go` by Joel Adams listen to it if you can its a great song <3 Please enjoy and lemme know what you think!!

There was no doubt in your mind that joining the Seoul Police Force was the job for you. You had always been set on becoming a cop like your father, he was the greatest man you knew, and when he died on duty, you made a promise to yourself you would become a great cop. After months of hard work, you graduated from the police academy, finally reaching your dream. 

Your partner, Kim Seokjin, had graduated from the academy four years before you, and you hung to his every word as he showed you the ropes. Jin was a great partner, his arrest record was one of the highest in the precinct, and his face wasn't bad to look at either. He was professional as he could be with his work, but he had a jovial charm that made him approachable. He always had a cheesy dad joke ready for when you would see each other at the office, and each time, he would crack you up. The best thing about your friendship is the nickname he gave you, sunflower, he knew you loved the colour yellow, and You guess it just stuck. Every greeting to you was followed with `Sunflower`

`Good morning Sunflower`

`Gloomy weather we're having Sunflower`

`Coffee?  Sunflower`

You never caught on, but Jin was starting to fall for you, outside of work when the district officers would go for drinks or a meal, Jin always sat next to you, banter was always exchanged and aside from work you had a great deal in common. He wanted to keep it professional, he knew how distracting office relationships were, but it happened, he fell for you. He fought off his feelings for as long as he could, but seeing your smiling face greet him everyday at work got him. 

He didn't even know if you felt the same, you never hinted that  you wanted anything more than friendship from him, and on several occasions, you voiced how you couldn't see how office romances work out, either romantically or professionally. Jin had to agree, especially in the police force, there was too much to factor in, but he threw caution to the wind.

Jin had turned up at your apartment at 10pm, which you immediately thought was strange, social calls at night were not usually Jin's thing. But as you greeted your friend you were surprised by the bouquet of sunflowers, and his out of breath ramblings to you

` if I don't try, I'll never know… I don't know if this will work with us, but, i want to try…`

And the rest was history.  Two years later and you and Jin were still going strong, 

To say you were stressed is an overstatement. You haven't eaten all day, working on this case was the most important task in your eyes. Jungkook had to eventually drag you from your desk and take you out to a diner to your objection, only relenting when it was agreed to bring your paperwork along. The whole force was still grieving and doing their best. But you felt a personal grievance in this particular case. It had all started a few weeks ago, There had been a string of murders in the area, and the police were on the hunt for a suspected serial killer. It seemed the suspects M.O was targeted at doctors, nurses and emergency responders. Whoever this killer was, it seemed he had not planned these murders, all spur of the moments, possibly driven by a grievance, feeling wronged in some way by the people working in medical care. This killer had the same method of killing, gunning their victim down in a moment of opportunity, but after they had killed the victim, the killer gave one more bullet, an execution style shot to the head. 

The personal connection she had in this case was felt by the whole force. The murderer had changed his M.O, and gunned down a police officer who was working the case. Officer Kim Taehyung graduated from the academy with you and a few other officers on the squad.You had been close with Taehyung, you introduced him to his wife Seol, and he had teased you about Jin's sunflower nickname for you. He was a great cop, and a great husband. He and Seol had just welcomed their first child, a little boy, Kim Sung Jae. Now, Tehyung will never see his son grow up, and Sung Jae will never get to know his father. Your heart broke for the boy, as you yourself know what it's like to grow up without your father. 

You and Jungkook had spent hours at the diner, and the paperwork was finally done, now you were nursing a coffee when Jungkook decided to ask about Jin, honestly since taehyung's death, you'd barely seen him, he and Namjoon had been moved to the night shift weeks prior to work on different cases and fill out paperwork, and with you and Jungkook on day shift, you barely get time with him. You knew he had not been sleeping well either, he and Taehyung had gotten close after you had both started dating, and he had taken his sudden death just as badly as you had. 

“ Im sorry for your  loss Y/n, I didn't know Taehyung that well, but he was a great officer.”

“Yeah, I just hate that he will never see Sung Jae grow up, I know what it's like to lose your father in duty…”

You sighed and sipped on the now cold coffee, it was just as sad and bitter like this whole situation. Lost in thought you didn't register Jungkook taking your hand in his, a firm grip reassuring you slightly.

“We will catch this guy Y/N,” 

The way Jungkook said it with such conviction moved you, he was a good kid. Jungkook was  one of the youngest officers on the squad, and to you he became something like a younger brother

.“I know we will, we have to.”

With the paperwork done and the coffee now ice cold, you and Jungkook left the diner and headed to your squad car, you wondered how Jin was holding up. You didn't want to make an issue out of nothing, but recently, Jin was acting odd. The grief and working late was one thing, but it was like he was trying to hide something from you, and it made you slightly worry.

You find yourself coming out thinking about him, you barely registered Jungkook pulling you down behind the passenger side door as the window shattered into pieces falling onto you both. 

You snapped out of your inner thoughts, another loud noise making its way into your ears. A gunshot. Jungkook radios for backup as he notes that shots have been fired in the area, you look towards the back street of the diner, seeing a shadowy figure with its gun pointed at you, and as you draw your gun your partner lets out a shot of his own. The shadowy figure doesn't seem phased and lets off another round of shots towards you both before his gun clicks, signally it's empty. You see the figure make a run for it towards the main street. You were sure, more sure than anything in your career as a cop, that this was the guy you were looking for. The guy who killed Taehyung. Not wanting to let him get away, you and Jungkook speed off after the culprit, radioing once again to update the situation. 

“ This is officer Jeon, requesting back up….shots fired …..were in pursuit of the culprit approximately  five foot male grey hoodie, black jeans…”

You ran ahead of Jungkook, ramming through pedestrians and across the busy roads, he was not about to get away, not after all the pain he's caused people. You see him duck into an alleyway and you quickly run after him, your gun aimed and ready to shoot should he not surrender peacefully. Your eyes were looking over every little detail, the alley led out to the back streets  of the high street, he couldn't have run straight though, the alley being lengthy and blocked by rather large dumpsters. You cautiously made your way forward. You could hear your rapid pulse in your head, every beat getting louder and louder. You scanned ahead and while making your way forward, you heard it, the sound of a can being kicked across the floor. Coming from behind you. 

You turned quickly and then you felt something heavy connect with the side of your head. Your vision flashed with white as you fell disoriented to the ground, The perp had hit you with a brick, the corner covered in blood as he dropped it to the ground, you could feel the warm sticky liquid start to run down your head and seep into the collar of your shirt. You could see double, the alleyway swaying as the perp made his way to where you had dropped to the floor. You felt the wind go out of your lungs as he landed a sharp kick to your stomach. The pain and the force of the kick only seemed to magnify the harsh vibrations your head wound was giving you. You tried to reach for your gun, which had dropped after the blow to your head, but the perp was faster. He seemed to toy with the idea of what to do, looking at the gun with his head tilted to the side.

 You had never felt this scared in your whole career. Risking your life was just a part of the job, but the pain you felt was frightening. You felt as though you were staring into the abyss when he looked you in the eyes. His black orbs seemed to stare through to your core, seeing every part off you, and when he registered your fear. He didn't even seem to relish it as you thought he would. If you weren't so disoriented, you would think that maybe this was why he killed his victims with a shot to the head, simple and quick. This was rushed and sloppy for him. A shot rang out. The warm feeling in the side of your head had spread to your abdomen. Looking down, you see the pool of red that surrounds you, the metallic taste in your mouth was stronger, it was getting harder and harder for you to breathe. you stay awake just long enough to see the perp aim his gun at someone making their way into the alley.

Jungkook, finally caught up with you, let out three gunshots, killing the perp on the shot. The commotion from the main streets starting to zone in on the gunshots, Jungkook rushes to check you over, your pulse faint, and your skin cold to the touch. His jacket is pressed into your stomach, trying to stem the blood that was covering you from the waist down. You could faintly hear him screaming at the radio com for the EMTs to get here. 

Four weeks, it had been four weeks since Jin's whole world stopped. He hadn't slept, shaved, or had a decent meal in two weeks. How could he? He was almost certain his heart had stopped beating the moment he got the news.

 He had been making his way to work when he got the call, the captain, he had been vague, asking him to come to the hospital, but he knew, he knew it had something to do with you. He hadn't heard from you all day. But recently, that was the norm. This case had everyone on edge and overtime was greatly needed. The only time Jin saw you that wasn't in passing was when you were heading out and he was coming home, and vice versa. He had also been avoiding you for a reason. He didn't want you to find out during all this, he had wanted to wait for the right moment, not wanting to spring this on you on top of grieving and working overtime. Jin had met Jungkook at the reception, his shirt was stained red, his usual black work blazer was missing from his usual attire, he knew. Jin knew the moment he was Jungkook that something bad had happened to you. 

“Doctor please. How is she!? Is she alright? No one will say anything to me…”  He was desperate to know, but Jungkook was silent, his face seemed to be like marble, threatening to crack.

The doctors eventually got Jin alone, away from the busy hallways of the intensive care unit. Jin felt his whole world crash, his sun dropping from the sky like a led balloon.

“The shots perforated her stomach and penetrated the large and smaller intestines… we resected what we could… but the damage was severe…her head injury had caused slight swelling on the brain and has caused her to enter a comatose state...mr Kim… I'll be frank. With this amount of damage...there's a slim chance of her pulling through..but..”

“But what…”

“You might want to get in contact with her family, let them know she may not wake up”

He made his way to his destination, the light from the early sunset had illuminated the hall in a warm amber glow, he bathed in its warmth for a moment, the feeling of the sun on his skin felt like a hug from you. 

The soft, yellow, warmth. It was you. 

He came to the same place he'd been coming to for weeks, the flowers he had placed days ago had wilted, the petals dry and falling to the floor. 

Sunflowers. Your favourite. 

He replaced the dead flowers with new freshly cut ones, disposing of the old ones in the waste bin.  Jin then sat down and looked out of the window. The same soft amber glow from the hallway had made its way inside the room.

His mind replayed the moment he first walked into this room. The hurt and anguish still stained on his memory.

You had looked so broken. Your pale skin, the needles that stuck out of you from the I.V, the bandages. It was so hard for Jin not to break down right there on the floor. 

It had been four weeks since you were brought to the intensive care unit. And Jin had been given leave to get himself together while you tried to pull through. You had stabilised, but you still remained in the coma. Jin had to take that with a grain of salt. You were fighting, and that's all he asked for. There was so much he still wanted to say to you. So many moments you and he had yet to go though. Jin had to hold onto those yet to be moments, as a reminder everyday that you were fighting to come back to him. 

“Hey sunflower, I brought you some more, the last ones had started to wilt again, I got you a bigger bouquet this time, thought i'd make up for how fast you go through them…”

Jin sat beside you, his hand takes yours in his, stroking your knuckles slowly. He brought your hand up to his face as he traced kisses over each knuckle, and then your palm. He would give anything to hold you properly. He would give anything to see your beautiful eyes shine in the light again. His breathing hitched as he trained himself not to cry.

“Love, I know you're fighting, and I know you can hear me. But I need you to fight more. I have so much I have to say to you. I should have asked you a year ago when I bought this, but I could never find the perfect moment.”

Jin looked to the bedside table, the velvet box sat next to the sunflowers, and he kissed your fingers one by one. 

“I promise, I will ask you the moment you wake up. Just come back to me Y/N, please.”

“Please don't go.”

[maaaaaatryoshka0325]

Shattered Sky - Hwang Hyunjin Zombie Apocalypse AU Part 11

Warnings: Character death, gore, pretty disturbing death scenes

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Your fingers softly ran through your kittens fur as you laid on your bed. It’s been days since you woke up, and not doing a damn thing was driving you insane. The only good it did was helping you pick out your kitten’s name, and you named her C/N (y’all can choose 😊). You laid there with her, letting out a loud sigh.

Your neck had healed pretty nicely, and it should be healed fully within a couple days to a week. You were too restless to wait that long, wanting to at least do SOMETHING. No matter what you tried to do, the survivors wouldn’t allow you to touch anything, tell you to just worry about healing. It was taken a toll on your mental state, not to mention the small amount of weight you put on (I’d be hella mad 😂).

You lightly laid C/N on the bed, making your way out the door. You decided to harass Hyunjin to let you go out, just to hunt. It didn’t take too much enery out of you, and you heard Hoseok and Woobin talking about it. You walked over to the tall tower, Changbin standing outside.

“What are you doing out and about?” He asked.

You and Changbin weren’t close, but he brought you a lot of things you needed while you were being shoved away into your cottage. You liked his presence, as he was extremely kind, despite his intimidating looks.

“I want to talk to Hyunjin.” You said.

“About?” He asked.

“Stuff.” You said shortly.

He chuckled and shrugged, moving away from the entrance. You flashed him a grin and headed up the long, dark hallway. Once again, like always, the only light visible was the one in his office. You slowly walked over, the door already being open. Hyunjin was the desk in the back, writing something down in a paper. You knocked and he glanced up, arching a brow at you.

“What are you doing out and about?” He asked.

“Wow, do you and Changbin share the same brain cell?” You asked with a small laugh.

He gave you a confused look, further arching his brow.

“He asked me the same thing.” You explained.

“Ah, I see.” He said, sitting back in his chair. “Well? Why are you out and about?”

“A girl can only take being bored for so long.” You sighed.

“Bored? Shouldn’t you be tired? Resting? In pain?” He asked.

“Hyunjin, it’s been over a week. It’s almost fully healed. I can never just sit around.” You said.

“You won’t have too much longer until you’re fully healed.” He pointed out, leaning back down and writing on the paper again.

“C’mon Hyunjin, can’t I at least go hunting? I heard Hoseok and Woobin talking about how they plan on going.” You pleaded.

“Why don’t you help Yuna with the kids? It won’t be a tidious task.” He said, not even looking up from the paper.

“Yuna’s good with kids, that’s her own thing.” You sighed.

“Then you should wait till you heal.” He said.

“Hyunjin come on, I need some action, I’m BORED.” You whined, dropping down and resting your chin on his desk.

He looked at you, slight irritation in his eyes.

“Y/N, you’re not healed. You’re not going anywhere.” He said firmly.

You made your eyes get bigger and poked your lip out. You would always jump away or cower when he seemed irritated, but for some reason, you found his intimidation cute today.

“The puppy dog eyes don’t work on me Y/N.” He said, his eyebrow arched.

“Fine. I’ll just stay in here and complain until you agree to let me do something.” You said.

He groaned and leaned back in his chair.

“Why can’t you just do what you’re told.” He sighed.

“Why can’t you just listen to me when I say I’m fine! Hyunjin please, I’m so bored and it’s starting to take a toll, look!” You pointed to the little bit of belly you got while laying around. “I’m gonna get fat Hyunjin, and then I’m gonna complain even more. Then I’m not gonna be able to run away from walkers, or do anything-“

“Alright!” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “Just please stop talking.”

“Really?” You asked happily. “I annoyed you enough?”

“You annoyed me to the point where your voice is starting to give me a headache.” He groaned.

“Should I go see Woobin and Hoseok?” You pressed excitedly.

“I’m going too.” He said, looking at you. “I haven’t gotten out in a bit either.”

You excitedly threw you bow and arrows in the back of one of the black hummers, two guns strapped at either of your sides with your throwing knives in a holder attached to your bicep. Woobin and Hoseok put their own hunting gear into the back of the truck as well. Hyunjin suggested you all go together, making a better chance of catching more than one piece of prey.

You had more mouths to feed since the prison incident, and a lot of them were children. By what you heard around the grapevine, they had lost over half of their population, and just in one night. A lot of the children ended up orphans, like most of the people still alive.

You sat up front with Hyunjin as he drove out of the entrance, the gates closing behind the truck. The day was pretty warm, and you were shocked when Hyunjin opened the sun roof. The way the wind blew his hair made him look ethereal, like a model straight out of a magazine.

“Remember when we used to hunt with Ari, and she almost got us mauled by that bear?” Hoseok asked with a laugh.

“Oh my God, that’s the day we found out you had a girl scream.” You laughed.

“I do not!” Hoseok pouted.

“Do too! It was higher than Ari’s, and her voice was really high pitched!” You laughed.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Hoseok huffed.

Woobin and Hyunjin chuckled, Woobin patting Hoseok’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, it’s pretty obvious you scream like a girl.” Woobin laughed.

“Can it old man.” Hoseok retorted.

“Hey, at least this old man doesn’t sound like a girl.”

You carefully set up the trap, leaving food on the ground along with the rope. You and Hyunjin took the normal spot, while Woobin and Hoseok found an older spot where you used to hunt. You took the straps that held your guns and placed them down, not wanting any noises coming from you if you had to move.

You both got into the same positions, your bow and arrow in hand, him behind the rock to observe you. You smiled at him and raised the bow.

“Do you wanna try?” You asked.

“You harassed me a little too much to be offering me a go.” He said.

You let out a low chuckle that was cut off when a twig snapped. You both looked up and saw two large bucks approaching the food you had left. You quickly steadied yourself, your mind working up a plan to snag both. You readied the arrows behind you, slowly drawing one back in the string of your bow. You quickly released it, catching one in the neck. You instantly grabbed another bow and shot, getting the other on the chest.

They both went down without a second bow being needed, and you sighed in relief and turned to Hyunjin with a big smile. He smiled back at you and stood up.

“I’m impressed, you were quick.” He praised you.

Your eyes brightened at his praise, and the smile he had didn’t falter. You both walked down the small hill and you examined both bucks, your eyes shining.

“They’re huge!” You said happily.

“I guess we chose a good time to come out.” He agreed.

You both were about to tie both buck’s legs together, when you heard rustling. You both looked up, and your heart sank when you saw a group of walkers. They were coming straight for the two of you, and you quickly felt around for your stuff, your heat stopping when you remembered you both had taken your equipment off while waiting for prey.

“Fuck.” Hyunjin hissed, pushing you behind him as he took out his gun.

He fired into the group of walkers as they began to fast approach the two of you, a couple of them falling. He went to back you away when you gasped, another group of walkers behind you. You heard Hyunjin curse and heard the clicks from his gun, his ammo empty.

“Fuck, Hyunjin what do we do?!” You gasped, tears in your eyes.

He wrapped his arms around you and backed you into a tree as the walkers began to close in. His arms held you tightly, your face in his chest.

Loud bangs made you both jump. You both looked up and watched walkers drop as gunshots rang out. Woobin and Hoseok were running up, their guns firing at the walkers.

“Get your weapons!” Woobin yelled.

Hyunjin grabbed your hand and pulled you to the top of the hill. A walker blocked your path, and Hyunjin quickly grabbed one of your knives and stabbed it in its skull. It quickly dropped and you both ran and grabbed your stuff. You stood at the top of the hill and shot your arrows into the walkers, Hyunjin’s gun firing beside you. You went to grab another arrow, and came to the realization that you had run out.

“Shit.” You hissed under your breath.

“It’s okay, there’s not many left.” Hyunjin said.

The last ones closed in on Woobin and Hoseok, however.

“Fuck!” Hoseok yelled, a walker over top of him. 

It was snapping it’s jaws at him, inches away from his face. Woobin was shooting the ones around him, as the rest were after him. Hyunjin kept aiming for the one attacking Hoseok, but he couldn’t get a good shot.

“I’m gonna get them off of Woobin, then he’ll help you!” Hyunjin yelled, shooting at the walkers surrounding Woobin.

Hoseok had shoved his gun in the walkers mouth to keep it from biting him, and your adrenaline was pumping. You shakily reached for one of your guns, which you haven’t used in months. You lifted the gun that had been your favorite, a beautiful rose gold .500 handgun, made by one of the blacksmiths that had lived in your old village. You calmed your nerves, your hands no longer shaking as you shot the gun, the bullet going directly through the walkers skull, blowing part of it’s skull off.

You raised it again and shot at the walkers attacking Woobin, quickly helping him and Hyunjin fend them off. When the last one dropped, you slowly lowered your gun. Hyunjin looked at you, his eyes almost shining.

“You’ve got impressive aim.” He said with a smile.

You gave him a weak smile and headed down the hill. Hoseok was still on his back, panting dramatically.

“I swear every time we come in contact with walkers I get closer to being bit. I was this,” He said, holding his pointer finger and thumb closely together. “Close to being bitten.”

You shook your head with a smile as Woobin helped him get up, Hoseok brushing himself off. He looked at you and smiled brightly.

“I’m glad you used your gun again Y/N, or I would’ve been a goner.” He laughed, patting your shoulder.

You smiled and shook your head, putting your gun back in it’s holster. Woobin ruffled your hair as he walked by, a smile on his face.

“You really are good with a gun, Y/N.” He said.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile, bowing slightly.

“Did you manage to catch anything?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yeah, we’ve got a buck up by the water, but we heard your gunshots and knew something was up.” Woobin explained.

“Thank God you did, or we would’ve been goners.” Hyunjin said, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.

Woobin and Hoseok went and got their kill as you and Hyunjin tied the two you had and hauled them into the back of the hummer.

“I’m proud of you for using your gun.” Hyunjin said, a small smile on his face.

“Thanks.” You said with a small bow before getting in the car.

You used to love using your gun, until you had to turn it on some of the people you had called friends back in the old village. Even just the sounds of gunfire and thunder freaked you out. Today, however, you needed to protect your best friend. One of the only things you have left.

You sat in the front seat as Hoseok and Woobin lifted their kill into the back with your two kills. Hyunjin got in the drivers seat as the other two got into the back.

“Those are impressive kills. You both did really good.” Woobin praised.

“It was all Y/N, she’s the one that got them.” Hyunjin said.

You blushed as Woobin rubbed your shoulder.

“Thatta girl.” He said with a smile.

You smiled back as Hyunjin pulled away from the woods, heading back towards the amusement park. When you got back, your heart dropped. Two of the guard’s that were usually on duty were dead on the ground, and what seemed to be gunshot wounds adorned their bodies.

“Shit!” Hyunjin hissed, driving through the entrance. 

When you all got out, survivors were everywhere. Injuries were bleeding, people were crying and screaming in pain.

“What the fuck happened?” Woobin asked.

“They came out of nowhere.” You all heard a raspy voice.

Minho limped towards you all, holding a gushing wound on his side.

“Oh God, Minho Hyung.” Hyunjin gasped.

Hyunjin stepped foreword and allowed him to lean against him, wrapping his arm over his shoulders.

“Where’s everyone else?” Hyunjin asked.

“Jeongin and Yuna took the children and hid them in the basement. I don’t know where anyone else went.” He rasped.

“Hyunjin! Minho!” 

You all turned to see Chan, Jisung, and Changbin run over. They had blood on them, their eyes filled with shock.

“Seungmin and Woojin are okay, they were protecting the medical supplies.” Chan said.

“Where’s Felix?” You asked, your heart hammering through your chest.

Chan and Hyunjin’s faces dropped as they looked around, Chan a little more frantically.

“Felix!” He called. “Felix!”

“Y/N, come with me. We’ll find him.” Woobin said, nodding to Chan for him to help the others.

You and Woobin ran in the direction of the theme park, calling for Felix. No response was coming, and you could feel tears prick your eyes.

Please no, please don’t take Felix.

“Y/N! Over here!” Woobin called.

You quickly ran over and saw a little bundle under a fallen tiki bar, and you quickly pushed it all off. Felix was laying there, his eyes closed, blood all over his face. You quickly shook his shoulder, fear filling your chest.

“Felix! Felix please wake up!” You yelled.

Felix let out a small cough and his eyes fluttered open. He turned to you, blinking slowly.

“... Is it over?” He croaked.

“Yes, they’re gone.” Woobin reassured him.

Woobin pushed away the rest of the rubble and lifted Felix over his shoulder, his eyes turning to you.

“We don’t know if it’s clear, so keep a look out while we get him to the center.” He instructed.

You nodded and followed him, your gun in your hand. When you safely got back to the center, you saw relief in Chan’s eyes as Woobin placed Felix into a sitting position. Chan walked over and bent down, pulling him into a hug.

“I’m glad you’re safe, brother.” He said.

Felix smiled and leaned on Chan, relief in both of their eyes. Changbin walked over and dropped beside him too, pressing his face into Felix’s shoulder.

“Y/N!” 

You looked over and saw Yuna walking towards you, her large eyes filled with shock and fear.

“Are you okay? Are the boys okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, we’re fine.” You reassured her.

“I bet you are! You left us here unsupervised, and look at this mess!” One of the male survivors yelled, stepping up and getting in your face.

“Hey, that’s not her fault.” Yuna said.

“Shut up. You left us here without a leader or anything at all! We were sitting ducks!” He yelled in your face.

“Sir, please calm down.” You said, trying to soothe him.

“Shut up bitch! You deserve to be the one shot! Not any of these people!” He yelled.

“You shouldn’t talk to someone like that.” You said, your voice faltering.

“You’re nothing but a useless bitch!” The man yelled, raising his fist.

You closed your eyes tightly, a smacking sound filling your ears. You lifted your head and saw Hyunjin standing in front of you, his dark eyes narrowed on the man, his lip bleeding.

“If you want to blame someone, blame me.” Hyunjin said.

The man stared at him for a moment, before getting mad again.

“You know what, you’re right! You’re not a good leader! You left us here undefended!” He yelled, throwing his fist at Hyunjin again.

You flinched as it made contact with Hyunjin’s cheek, as he didn’t try to block it. You looked up at Hyunjin, who had a haunted look in his eyes. His lip was dripping blood and a red mark was on his cheek.

“My wife is dead because of you!” The man yelled, punching his face again.

You grit your teeth and shoved yourself between the two of them, smacking your gun off the mans head. The man fell back on his ass, looking at you in shock and holding his head.

“How dare you call Hyunjin a bad leader! How dare you blame him for all these deaths! You all depend so much on a few guys. You guys do nothing but cower and hide when it’s convenient! Why don’t you pick up a fucking gun and learn how to defend yourself instead of depending on him to protect you all the time!” You yelled. “You’re nothing but a coward, and you’ve done nothing to help out this place! While we’re out risking our lives to feed you guys and get the supplies you need, you just laze around!”

The man went to open his mouth, when you raised your gun to him.

“One more word and I’ll blow your tongue off.” You growled.

He fell silent, and so did the other survivors. You were right, your little group of people risked your lives almost every day for them, while they did nothing. Most of the women farmed, but other survivors did nothing.

“If you think Hyunjin is such a bad leader, then leave. No one’s making you stay here.” You said.

The man was silent as he got up, clutching his bleeding head. You turned to Hyunjin, who’s eyes were blank as he looked down. Both of his cheeks had red marks from the man punching them, and his lip was split open.

“You should get Jeongin to look at your face.” You said, reaching your hand out to him.

He waved your hand off and walked away, a gloomy aura around him. Changbin stood up and gave you a reassuring look.

“I’ll go talk to him.” He said, walking after Hyunjin.

You helped Jeongin and Yuna patch up everyone that was injured. You were working on an elderly woman’s leg injury, when her soft hand came up to your jaw and lifted it.

“You’re doing a good job, dear. I don’t care what that man says, Hyunjin has always protected us. And I’m glad you came along and protect us too.” She said with a kind smile.

“Thank you so much.” You said, holding her hand.

She smiled brightly at you as you continued to help patch everyone up, your body starting to feel tired. You heard the door to the little infirmary open, and Hyunjin’s face was in view. He looked around at all of the injured survivors, the haunted look back in his eyes. He made eye contact with you and backed out of the door. You finished your last patient and went after him, jogging out into the cool night.

“Hyunjin!” You called.

He stopped for a moment, then turned around. You could see his face under the lamp outside, he looked so defeated. You stepped up to him, your eyes meeting his.

“Don’t listen to what that man said. You’re an amazing leader.” You said.

He didn’t say anything, he just turned away. He went to walk away, but you wrapped your arms around him from behind, your face in his back.

“I know you blame yourself Hyunjin, but you can’t be two places at once. You’ve risked your life for them the most, and you’ve kept them alive all this time. This stuff happens, and it would’ve happened if you were here or not. So don’t blame yourself, you all tried your best.” You said softly into his back.

He remained silent, he didn’t move away from your touch or anything. He just stood there.

“And thank you for earlier. You got hurt defending me.” You whispered, burying your face into his back. “Not many people would do that for someone else.”

He allowed you to stay like that for a moment, before pulling away. He turned his head towards you, a weak smile on his face. 

“Thank you, Y/N.” 

The next morning, you woke up to a commotion outside. You quickly got yourself ready and ran out the door, heading to the center. You nearly ran into Hoseok, who gave you a smile.

“Hey, I was just about to come get you. Hyunjin wants us all in the square.” He said.

You nodded and followed him, noticing all of the survivors were making their way towards the same destination. You saw Hyunjin standing on the stairs that led up to the massive tower, Changbin and Chan below it.

“Last night was a disaster, and I’m very sorry I wasn’t here to defend all of you, or our home.” He started, his eyes scanning the crowd. “As many of you know, they destroyed a lot of our food supply and other necessities we need. It seems as though they were looting.”

Murmurs of agreement went throughout the crowd, as many of them had watched the attackers leave with supplies.

“I’m going to bring a team with me to get more supplies from a town Chan had told me about. Woojin, Seungmin, and Jisung will remain here and on guard. Felix is injured at the moment, but he’ll be healed and ready to bounce back in a few days.” Hyunjin said.

“I’ll be taking Changbin, Minho, Chan, Woobin, Hoseok, Jeongin, and Y/N with me to collect these supplies. We should be back before sun down.” Hyunjin said.

Minho’s coming with? He was hurt more than Felix.

You felt happy to be apart of the team to get supplies, and when the meeting was over, you ran to your cottage and loaded your guns. You had used one the day before, and you knew it was safer, for you and the people you care about. You inhaled deeply, calming yourself as you loaded up your guns and put the safety lock on, sliding more ammo in the bag you keep around your thigh.

You jogged over to one of the hummer’s, getting in the front seat beside Hyunjin. Woobin and Hoseok hopped in the back, Minho sliding in after. His movements seemed really slow, and you noticed Hyunjin eyeing him.

“Minho Hyung, if you’re hurt-” He started, but was cut off by Minho waving him off.

“I’m fine.” He said firmly.

Hyunjin fell silent, but you caught the look of concern and irritation in his eyes. He slowly pulled out of the entrance, following Chan’s truck that held him, Changbin, and Jeongin.

“How far did he say the town was?” Woobin asked.

“He said it was a little further than the prison, so it should only take about a half hour.” Hyunjin replied, his eyes on the road. 

He followed Chan’s every turn, the prison coming into view. You all fell silent as you passed, and you noticed just how many walkers were there. Seeing that many out during the day made your stomach turn. You were truly never safe. 

You stepped out of the truck and looked around the small town. It was bigger than the last two, and definitely had more options and stores. You grabbed your weapons and walked over to where the others were standing. You felt the hairs on your body stand up, and you looked around anxiously. Hoseok looked at you, tilting his head to the side.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I don’t know it feels like we’re being... Watched.” You said warily.

He chuckled and rubbed your back, trying to soothe your anxious mind. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll protect you.” He laughed.

You looked up at Minho, who winced as he went to move his gun out of the way.

“Hyung-” Jeongin started.

Minho gave him a look and he closed his mouth. Hyunjin loaded his gun and swung it over his shoulder.

“Minho, Jeongin, Chan, and I will take this half of the town. You guys take that half.” Hyunjin instructed.

You all nodded and split up in your groups. You followed Changbin and Woobin as they walked into a small super market. You covered your nose at the smell of the rotten fruits and vegetables. 

“Gross.” Hoseok mumbled, plugging his nose.

“You two are such princess’.” Changbin said with a smile.

“I’m a queen, thank you very much.” Hoseok said with an “a matter of fact” attitude.

You all laughed as you went down the aisles. You found a bunch of nonperishables and filled your bag. You slowly stood up and stopped, the feeling of being watched making anxiety eat at you. You began to walk to the end of the aisle, where Hoseok was triumphantly holding a bottle of alcohol.

“I found some nonperishables.” He laughed.

You giggled, about to approach him, when something hit him in the head. He grunted and held his head as it came down and hit him again.

“What the fuck?!” He yelled as a man leaped on top of him, shoving a bat up to his throat.

“Hoseok!” You gasped, running over to him.

You felt yourself being tackled and thrown onto the ground. A woman with crazy red hair was glaring down at you, her hands clutching your throat tightly. You hooked your legs under hers and rolled her off of you, getting up and running over to where Hoseok was struggling with the man twice his size. You felt her hand grab your foot and you fell over, a sharp pain in your calf as she stabbed into your thigh with a dull knife. You hissed in pain and kicked her square in her face, making her scream in pain as you broke her nose.

You scrambled up, blood dripping down your leg as you ran over to Hoseok. Just when you were about to reach him, the woman got a hold of you again, this time dragging her dull knife down and almost getting your throat.

“Y/N!” Hoseok called, trying desperately to get away from the man fighting him.

The woman’s knife was so close to your throat, when an idea popped into your head. Her face was close to your own, blood dripping down from her nose. You slammed your forehead into her nose. She screeched and backed away as you got up, backing into the shelf. She held her nose and glared at you, her eyes wild as she ran at you. You quickly grabbed one of your knives and just barely got away from her own, before you slammed your knife into her, it going through her eye. Her body went limp and fell over yours, and you shakily pushed her off. You never had to kill a human before.

You shakily got up, the world spinning as you saw Woobin appear, a tomahawk in his hand as he brought it down on the man’s head. You heard it break his skull, blood squirting as he collapsed. You all panted as Woobin helped Hoseok up. Changbin ran over to you and helped you up, checking you all over. Before he could open his mouth, gunshots were heard outside.

“The other’s!” He gasped, running out of the supermarket. 

You grabbed your bag and ran after them, bringing your gun out of it’s holster. You all ran around the buildings, until you saw Hyunjin. He had blood splattered across his shirt, his knife dug into another man’s chest as they struggled. The man slammed him on the ground, knocking the wind out of Hyunjin. The man ripped the knife out of his chest and raised it high. You lifted your gun and fired two shots, one hitting him in the face, the other in the chest. He fell off of Hyunjin and Hyunjin got up, panting.

“Are you all okay?” He asked.

You nodded, looking him up and down. He had slashed on his arms and one across his chest, and you felt relieved the one on his chest looked like it had just skimmed him.

“We’re fine, but look at you.” You said.

“I’m fine. Have you seen Minho, Chan, or Jeongin?” He asked.

“We’re here.” Chan said, holding Minho up. 

“Oh my God, Minho!” You gasped.

You were about to approach them when Woobin came crashing out of a store, landing hard on his back. Four people appeared, guns and other weapons in their hands. You and Hoseok quickly raised your guns as Woobin was able to roll behind another wall, pulling his other gun from his hip. The man in the middle fired first, aiming for you. Hyunjin pushed you over and it missed the both of you. You both hid behind a huge crate as gunfire rained around the area. You quickly shot up, holding your gun up in front of you. You froze when you saw the tallest man holding Jeongin hostage, his arm around his throat.

“Let him go.” You said calmly, slowly approaching them.

“Y/N don’t!” Hyunjin hissed.

“We don’t have to kill each other.” You said calmly, still approaching. 

The man fired at you, nearly hitting your shoulder. You jumped but remained calm.

“Please, you don’t have to-”

You all froze when you heard the terrible sounds. You turned your head as a hoard of walkers was approaching you all, the gunshots having alerted them of human presence. The man shoved Jeongin on the ground and their group ran as the walkers closed in.

“Shit!” You yelled, firing into the mass of walkers. 

Woobin, Hoseok, Hyunjin, Chan, and Changbin all raised their guns and fired. Jeongin was with Minho, pressing a piece of his shirt that he ripped off too a deep gash that Minho had ripped open after it had been stitched.

“Fuck!” You heard Woobin yell as you all were being pushed back by the hoard. 

“Keep firing!” Hyunjin yelled.

You heard more gunshots and looked behind you, Minho was shooting his gun, leaned against a wall as Jeongin shot beside him. Your gun clicked but didn’t shoot, and you quickly grabbed more ammo, your hands shaky. A walker came upon Hyunjin, grabbing him and slamming him down. His gun dropped as he fell, and all he could do was hold the walker away from his face. You fumbled with your ammo, panicking as Hyunjin was struggling to hold the walker away. Hoseok ran up and knocked the walker off, struggling for a moment before he shot it’s head. It fell over and he turned over and got up, shooting at the last part of the approaching hoard. 

Hyunjin grabbed his gun and shot at the walkers around you all, until everything fell silent. All of the walkers laid on the ground, their body parts strewn everywhere. You quickly looked at Hyunjin.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

He nodded as everyone came out of their places. Changbin quickly helped Chan support Minho, and you felt relieved he was alright.

“Hoseok, let’s head back to the truck.” Woobin called.

You looked up to where Hoseok was standing, your heart completely stopping when he turned around. A huge bite mark was on his throat, blood gushing from it. Everyone was frozen to their spots, not a single word left anyone’s mouth. Tears poured down your face as you stepped foreword, but Hoseok backed away.

“Stay away Y/N.” He said, his voice cracking as tears slipped past his eyes.

“Hoseok... Please, no.” You whimpered.

You were just about to run to him, when Woobin grabbed you and held you to him tightly. He looked at Hoseok, a look of grief in his eyes as he looked at him. Hyunjin stepped foreword, a lump in his throat.

“Hoseok, I-”

“It’s okay.” Hoseok said with a sad smile, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Protect her, okay?”

Hoseok raised his own gun to his head and you struggled against Woobin, who quickly turned you around and pulled your face into his chest.

“Hoseok!-”

BANG.

 A loud sob fell from your lips as you heard the gunshot. Hoseok had killed himself before he reanimated. You heard Woobin’s ragged breathing, his eyes closed tight, his jaw clenched in anger.

Hyunjin slowly walked over to his body, his knees giving out as he landed next to Hoseok. His eyes were open, his dark orbs fixed on the sun. Hyunjin bowed his head, biting his lip harshly.

“Why did you give your life for me... You didn’t even like me.” Hyunjin whispered.

You were a sobbing mess in Woobin’s arms, your whole world crumbling. Minho limped over to you both, putting his hand on Woobin’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry.” He rasped, choking back his own tears.

You pulled away from Woobin, slowly walking over to where Hoseok laid. You dropped to your knees near his head, lifting it onto your lap. Your fingers gently slid over his face, closing his eyes as your tears soaked his paling face.

“You idiot.” You sobbed. “You promised you’d always be here.”

Hyunjin was silent as he stood up, his eyes hollow. 

“Get everything in the trucks.” He ordered.

The others nodded as he bent down beside you, pulling you up.

“We have to go.” He said.

“I’m not leaving him here like this!” You yelled at him.

“Who said we’re leaving him here?” He asked.

You shakily stood up as Hyunjin crouched down, lifting Hoseok’s body over his shoulder. He winced as blood oozed out of his wounds, but he pushed it back as he carried your beloved best friend back to the truck for the last time.

You felt empty as you sat in front of the newly dug earth where Hoseok laid. Everyone had come again, as he had helped many of them since your arrival. You sat with your knees to your chest, tears endlessly falling from your eyes.

“Why did you have to be so selfless? Why couldn’t you think of yourself for once?” You asked his grave, before turning to Kin’s. “You too, Kin. Why did you both have to go?”

You buried your face into your knees, your body feeling limp and tired. You heard something beside you and you raised your head as Hyunjin sat down beside you, his eyes troubled. You both remained silent as his eyes stayed focused on Hoseok’s grave.

“I’m so sorry about your friend.” He said lowly.

You didn’t say anything, you just stared blankly ahead of you.

“I really am Y/N.” He whispered.

“What do I do now?” You asked as fresh tears streamed down your cheeks. “He was all I had left.”

You felt Hyunjin grab your face, his hands oddly gentle.

“You have all of us, Y/N. I know it’s hard, I know. I know it hurts, but you have to live for them.” He said, not caring that your tears soaked his hands.

“Kin died because of me.” You sobbed.

Hyunjin pulled your head into his shoulder, his hand in your hair as the other supported his weight as he crouched in front of you.

“He didn’t die BECAUSE of you, Y/N. He died protecting you. And just like Woobin said; he died a hero. Don’t take that from him.” He said softly. “He gave his life so you could live, don’t let that sacrifice go to waste.”

You nodded as you pulled away and wiped your tears, your eyes finally meeting his.

“Hoseok gave his life for me earlier... I should’ve been more prepared.” Hyunjin said lowly.

“It’s not your fault Hyunjin. Like you said,” You started with a small smile. “He died a hero, don’t take that from him.”

Hyunjin smiled at you as he got up and stretched his hand out to you. You slowly took it, your legs numb from sitting in the same spot for hours.

"Woobin is taking it really hard. I think you’re the only one that can talk to him.” He said.

You nodded and followed him to a small hut where Woobin was gutting a deer, his knife aggressively cutting it open. You slowly walked in, a lump in your throat.

“Woobin?”

He stopped and slightly turned his head, his expression stoic.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“I’m fine.” He said flatly, turning back to the deer.

You fell silent as he rummaged around for something. You flinched when he threw a box against the wall.

“Nothings ever where it’s supposed to be! That fucking kid dies and doesn’t tell me where he put everything! He thinks he can just die and not be responsible!’ He yelled, throwing other shit around.

You quickly walked over to him and hugged him from behind, burying your face into his back.

“Woobin... It’s okay to be upset.” You said.

His body relaxed as you heard a small sob leave his lips, his shoulders shaking.

“He hated me so much at first... Then he acted like my son, and I started to treat him as one... Now this..” He sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him.”

You buried your face into his back, tears slipping past your eyes.

“He was my best friend too.” He sobbed, covering his face with his hands.

“We’ll get through this.” You whispered. “We’ll get through this together.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Breaking Point

Two Executive department officers sat in front of me. The agent, a man who had a substantial bald spot despite his apparent youth, placed a tablet on the table. “This is the video we’re about to show to the School Board who are meeting as we speak.”

Anjou was still hanging on to life by a thread, but in this video he was healthy and strong as ever in a corridor of the library three days ago. The video was time stamped 2:42 am. 

Anjou was alone walking towards the elevator to the ice cellar at the end of the hall holding the black card that would give him access. I never saw the attack or the attacker. I only saw Anjou stop in his tracks. He asked. “Is that you?”

By then, the black card had disappeared from his hand. 

Anjou looked down at his jacket. A thin line of blood was slowly spreading over his fine bespoke suit before breaking open and covering the front of his shirt in red. He fell to his knees, then face down, where the blood continued outward, staining the carpet.

I turned away from the images. “What do you want me to say? This means nothing to me. I told you. I don’t know where Mingfei is, and I don’t think he did it.”

I’d been imprisoned in a home that wasn’t mine, in a world that had vanished the love of my life, pursued my best friend like a criminal, and now turned its greedy, hungry eyes on me.

“Mingfei sacrificed for you. He sacrificed his life!” I hissed at them. He had killed Dragon Lords, Dragon Lords who’s human forms he knew personally as friends, by sacrificing his own life in exchange for the power to do so. And he’d kept it all a secret, letting others have the credit.

And this is how they repay him.

The other man spoke. “Lu Mingfei’s Soul Skill is unknown. We have no idea what he’s capable of. You established the Club known as Club - S... and it’s byline is “The S is for Secrets”. There are only two members of Club S... you and Mingfei.”

“We gave a thorough search of the entire premises. But it appears you never kept any records of what these secrets are. There’s not so much as a file cabinet in Norton Hall.” 

I glowered at them. “So?”

He gave an incredulous laugh. “What do you mean ‘so’? By your own admission you’re withholding information from this investigation!”

“This isn’t an investigation. This is a witch hunt!” I shot back. “I told you again and again. I don’t know where he is, he would never kill the principal or steal the dragon skeleton and he doesn’t work with dragons!”

“Mrs. Lu...”

“Don’t call me, Mrs. Lu! My name is Mrs. Meixiu Chu! Which I’ve told you more than once!”

“Okay...” The Executive Agents stood up. “Then I’m afraid there won’t be much we can do for either of you. What the School Board decides, it decides.” They walked out of the the apartment, shutting the door and locking it.

I sat on the couch, trembling uncontrollably. “Johann... I’m so scared...”

I stood up, pacing, rocking back and forth. They always wanted to get ahold of me from day one. They would probably take Ru’Yi away, imprison me and only let me out if I agreed to their genetic tampering. I would be completely at their mercy.

From the start, no one wanted Johann and I together. We’d gone behind their backs and gotten married. Then we’d had a child. The only one standing between me and them was Anjou.

Now Anjou was gone.

They were going to take my daughter... and they were going to take me.

Unless I ran.

I was under constant surveillance. The Restriction on Soul Skills was still in place. I wouldn’t be able to physically outrun them but there was one thing I still had: Mingfei’s Bugatti Veyron. He kept the keys under the front seat. He never drove the car and occasionally he would need to turn it on for a few minutes to maintain the engine and the battery. Plus, I knew he was activated by voice, so long as the keys were in range.

I walked into the kitchen and I started eating and drinking. I would need my strength. Sugar for fast reserves. I grabbed apples on the counter and ate three of them. It was cold outside. I would have to think of somewhere to run.

Paris... no, there were many agents in Paris. Japan? I knew people in Japan. I’d fought alongside them. Chisei was no longer the Patriarch, but I had his swords. Would they have mercy on me? I shook my head. “No.”

I couldn’t trust anyone. They were all part of the same massive monster that was the Secret Society of Dragonslayers.

I swallowed hard, feeling what I just ate try to rise up again in my throat. I took a deep breath.

I heard Johann’s voice in my mind. “ Enemies will read your eyes. When faced with danger, don’t rehearse what you’re going to do, adapt to the circumstances as they come.”

I had to calm down. I took a deep breath and let it out. 

I looked at the dishes in the sink. I turned and began setting them in the dishwasher.

Then I started to clean the refrigerator. I kept my mind firmly in the present, cleaning. About a half an hour passed and my panic somewhat subsided.

And then the door opened again. I turned to look. “Gosh will you learn to kno-”

Executive Department officers walked through the door one after another. I counted. Six. Seven. Eight.

“Carli Lu.” The one at the head of them addressed me, a  muscular woman armed with two pistols.

“That’s not my name.” I whispered weakly.

She ignored me. 

“Your Husband Mingfei Lu is under suspicion of attacking Principal Anjou, stealing the skeleton of Constantine, and  kidnapping the Gattuso lady Chen Moutong.”

“What?!”

“And just now, in the past few minutes, the skeleton of Norton was stolen from the Vault watched over by the Gattuso Family. The theft resulted in the death of Frost Gattuso.”

My chest rose and fell in rapid whistling breaths.

“He is accused of treason against the Secret Society. As a result, we were ordered to take you into custody... however... The new acting head of the Gattuso, Caesar Gattuso is showing you consideration as a mother.”

“He’s asked us to put you on a plane to his estate in Italy. He promises to treat you kindly until this affair is sorted out.”

I willed myself to be calm. “Sorted out? You’re going to kill him.”

“He’s wanted for questioning.” She corrected me. “There is a lot of evidence pointing to him. But at this point, we only want to talk to him.”

They were lying. Even if they weren’t, they wouldn’t believe a word he said because they didn’t believe me.

“May I... have a moment to calm down?”

The woman turned to the other officers some of whom left the apartment, but most only moved further into the apartment one going to the door, another moving to the living room window.

They were cutting off my escape. 

She smiled at me, but there was no warmth or kindness there. “Take all the time you need.”

“I’ll... I’ll go get my daughter.”

I turned and walked out of the kitchen. The woman followed me close behind as I walked into Ru’Yi’s room. The baby was lying in her crib in her little frog onesie. I looked down at her and then at the hilt of Spider Fang that was lying just behind the crib beyond the mattress.

I thrust my hand down, gripped the smooth leather and whirled, slamming the scabbard against the woman’s temple. She staggered back, hand reaching for her pistol. I swept the scabbard again, this time striking her throat. Gagging, her hand instinctively left the pistol to clutch her neck. I reached down for her gun and grabbed it. Firing, once! Twice!

As she fell against the wall instantly unconscious. The footsteps of the other agents pounded toward the door.

I kicked it closed. A frigg bullet whizzed by my face and I pressed against the wall in time to avoid a hail of them coming through the door, shattering the window on the far side of the room. I rushed over to Ru’Yi, who was wailing now, startled by the noise. I scooped her up, tucking Spiderfang and Tongzi into my belt and fired round after round at the door. 

There was a tree just outside the window.

I tucked Ru’Yi tight against me, ran diving out the shattered glass. Hot pain ran  a long line down my back and I cried out even as I reached for the nearest limb and hung there just long enough to break my fall. Then I fell down to the landscaping.

Blood was running down my back in a hot stream as men came around the corner, pointing their pistols until they saw Ru’Yi in my arms. They didn’t fire. I turned and ran toward the garage.

“Cut her off! Cut her off!” They were yelling, drawing closer. But I had the advantage of surprise.

I slammed my shoulder into the door, knocking it open. I shouted. “Carli Lu!” The Bugatti, one of the fastest cars in the world, roared to life like a demon. I slammed my hand against garage door opener and swung open the driver’s side door as it began to rise, agonizingly slowly.

The agents rushed into the garage, saw me go for the car and fired at the tires. But frigg bullets were not equipped to puncture tires. 

The Veyron peeled out of the garage, nearly flattening a foolish agent who tried to shoot me through the windshield.

My back hurt so much but I couldn’t stop. I had to get out of the range of the Soul Skill Restriction.

Cassell sat on top of high hills. The alchemy matrix extending the Soul Skill that suppressed draconic speech could only go out so far from the ground. I pushed the pedal to the floor, reaching 100 mph, then 125, going up to where the hill peaked.

“Hold on baby.” I clutched Ru’Yi to myself, crying as we approached a sheer drop off, going 150 mph.

I opened the door as the car flew straight off the cliff. It soared horizontally for several yards until its nose tipped downward.

At that moment, I jumped, reaching out, hoping that the last few feet I could get away from the College would be the last few feet I needed.

I squeezed my eyes shut and visualized the trees of Chizuru in full bloom of March, willing myself there.

[lucastheunlucky]

Timshel; Salva, Gotch, Lucas

Location: Downtown, few streets from Luke’s Apartment Time: Late Evening; 5/28 Triggers: gore, body horror @drunk-and-howling

Summary: It's been a little over three weeks since the arrest and attack against Luke at the precinct. The pack has set up a lot of precautions to keep him with backup, but this week has limited participation from the pack. With Winn missing and steering a lot of the attention to his whereabouts, and Luke staying in his apartment full time, and life, in general, moving on as expected. The patient hunter, Ivor Gotch, has found an opportunity to set up an attempted snatch involving a small crew of people and special weapons. Salva, without telling anyone, has filled a gap in the patrol; knowing Ivor won’t stop.

Salva is right and he finds him. 

Ivor Gotch was outside a bar, across from a bus station, wearing a long leather jacket that barely hid the shotgun tucked under his arm and secured to his back. His broken arm wrapped up in a sling, but the hunter didn’t seem put off by it. The man was staring at his phone with a strange intensity. Four other people sat on the benches, lounging around, and looked up when they weren’t alone. The hair on his arms raised, and his eyes lifted from the bright screen. 

“So you are in town,” the words spoke like Ivor already knew, though with a frustrated edge to it. Gray eyes drifted over to the wolf, cold and calculating. “Must we do this all over again? How poorly it ends every time for you. Do you really want to involve yourself in my business?” 

Salva prowled closer to Ivor, his body language stiff, but hands still kept rather casually in the pockets of his bomber jacket. "Naturally," the werewolf answered, and his voice was barely human... in it was such a rumbling growl that an unpracticed ear would doubt if he was even speaking English, like car tires rolling over gravel. Scenting the hunter after all this time gave him such a violent bloodlust that he felt light-headed, and his body was alive with phantom pains of their past encounters, but somehow he managed to keep it under control. 

"Give me one reason I shouldn't tear your throat out with my bare hands, right here."

“Because we both know under all this snarling-- you have proved you are weak against me.” 

Ivor laughed a cold chuckle, pulling a cigar to his lips with a deep pull and puff of smoke as if hinting to all their past altercations and breaking even often. Ivor pointed the cigar lightly towards him while he spoke. “We don’t care if you kill others. Hunting families never liked bothering with us. Yet you still want to cause us problems. Over and over.” A tsk clicked the man's tongue like he was reprimanding a child, and the four people around actually chuckled lightly, but didn’t look as confident as the man speaking. 

“I will warn you one more time Salva, stay out of this.” 

With anyone else, Salva would have been goaded into action long ago, but this was a different story. This hunter had nearly killed him before, on several accounts, and he was still injured from his forest run-in with that hunter on the night of the full moon. He knew that if he started a fight here, four goons aside, Ivor would have little difficulties adding a new pelt to his wall. "You don't deserve to speak my name," Salva rasped with that voice like broken glass, coming closer still to Ivor. 

The state of the wolf wasn’t entirely unnoticed, and when he stepped closer Ivor stayed still though alert that this could dissolve quickly. The cigar billowed sweetly between them. “So, what’s this about?” Ivor said calmly, the arm broken by Lucas, moved to take the cigar, the wince small, but noticeable. “Could it be? Lucas-- hmm. Finally getting help?” The man’s smile dropped, and his pulse went up just a tick at that thought. He wouldn’t.

"If you don't deserve to say my name, you sure as hell can't say his." Salva couldn't keep it under wraps any longer, feeling like he would bust apart at the seams until it was painful. As one of the henchmen made a slight shift of footing next to the truck, the werewolf reached out, grabbed the man by the hoodie, and yanked him in close - he didn't even shift, but used his human teeth to bite into the man's neck and give a solid wrench. Thick black lifeblood sprayed onto the pavement, and shortly after the man's body hit the street, limp and severed under the chin. Salva then took another step towards Ivor, making no effort to wipe the blood staining his mouth. No words, just a savage snarl and baring of teeth. 

Ivor put his hands up towards the other men pulling out various weapons and pointing them at the wolf who tore open one of his men’s throats. The others were nervous now, and Ivor didn’t need a fast shoot out in the middle of the road without a good backup plan in place. Regardless, his pulse rang in his ears as the rush of a hunt always was enticing when so close, and this particular beast was one to fear. There was no doubt about it, that having them here in town, knowing Lucas of all things, and seemingly to be protecting him was going to make this an issue. Salva’s wolf hide would be worth millions, but even faced with this creature-- one who has crossed his path countless times, Ivor didn’t want him. Ivor flipped the shotgun by his side with a turn of the wrist and struck it out right at Salva’s nose. 

The gun found purchase, and there was a wet metallic thud as it crashed into Salva's jaw, strings of blood flying from his teeth. But the pain wasn't felt, not at all. His features began to contort to be increasingly monstrous as Salva quickly shifted into his black-furred form. The wolf's body was severely impeded, and the physical stress of shifting forced stitches to pop out of his skin, but his lips were stretched back in an ivory snarl as Salva shook the blow off and came in for another attack. His narrow jaws aimed to snap onto Ivor's arm, a snarl like glass shattering ripping from deep in his chest. 

“Start the truck!” Ivor ordered, taking the weight of Salva as he shifted and bared down on him, his feet slid across the concrete and kicked up the dirt as the two collided. His broken arm creaked under pressure, the fracture broke again from the stress. Sweat formed on his brow as the pain increased, making his teeth grit. Blood coated the butt end of the shotgun and splashed on the ground with a flick. Ivor met the feral wolf with his own snarl. Eyes wild, and a face Salva has seen before-- manic and excited. “Grab the lines!” Another order from someone else, his people were moving around, seconds passing as the shotgun exploded between them. Blasting out part of his hearing, but it aimed purposefully upward and between them to damage them both in that way. The beaded rounds cut bits of himself as well as their velocity and explosion gave him a second to shove forward, flipping the gun with a release of a shotgun shell and a reload. rounds cut parts of himself as well as their velocity and explosion gave him a second to shove forward, flipping the gun with a release of a shotgun shell and a reload.

Salva felt the thrill of victory as Ivor struggled to take his weight, and relished in the taste of the hunter's blood bathing his tongue. But there was a reason why countless wolves had fallen at Ivor's feet - he was devastatingly strong, and that crazed intensity in his eye was enough to challenge any wolf's dominance. When the shotgun went off between them and hot shrapnel exploded into his face, Salva's lungs contracted in a sharp, pained yelp, and he briefly fell away to paw at the stinging wounds freckling his muzzle. His hearing was reduced to a high-pitched whine, but this series of events only served to heighten the wolf's aggression. Salva came forward again to leap onto the hunter, this time attempting to take up the shotgun in his teeth and rip it away. Fight harder, Salva… came a distant voice in his ears, his own, from somewhere deep in his being. Or you're going to die here.

Blood coated Ivor’s face, dripping down his chin, turning the snowy white beard into speckled red. Both wolf and human blood splattered across his clothes, and carved lines from the shrapnel of his buckshot bubbled up to the surface and spilled over. Ivor didn’t hesitate one moment, didn’t move, didn’t go to step back or run. He just stood there, looking the beast in the eye, and a freshly loaded shotgun bullet in his single round barrel; these bullets aimed for damage over death. His hearing was white static, but the hunter didn’t seem to care, his chest heaved slightly, a wildness to almost match the beast making the whitest grins spread on his face. “Fire!” he yelled, but could barely hear himself as an explosion of compressed air sent two small harpoons flying at them with a trail of rope. Ivor ducked down in a low squat and met Salva’s leap forward to keep him upright in hopes they connected. 

Salva was on his two back paws as they grappled, but his ears swiveled as he heard coordinated movement behind them… he barely had the presence of mind, but the wolf managed to twist out of the way just in time as two harpoons came hurtling at him. One of them missed and clanged against the pavement, but the other hooked into his shoulder, the long-toothed blade catching against the grain of his flesh. Salva let out a blood-curdling howl, but it rose from a place of pure hatred for Ivor, and he used the pain's momentum to bite down on his arm. He wrenched his head to the side with the intent to rip flesh, the threads of Ivor's clothing splintering. 

Ivor screamed, the teeth tearing into his flesh never able to be described-- the pain unbearable, even if known over and over, added scars and deep hatred for these creatures. Except one. The men pushed a retracting button on the harpoon that struck as they called for Ivor from the truck. The weapon was cruel and designed to inflict a lot of damage should it be pulled out. Blood dripped everywhere, and Ivor was furious. This was transpiring when it wasn’t part of his plan. How had Lucas gotten on Salva’s radar? Who told him to come to White Crest? Was it his brother? Or fate toying with his desires? Ivor’s anger imploded, and he almost roared back, feral in sound. The shotgun fell to the ground, replaced with silver, and he turned the same sharp blade used on Lucas and shoved it down, through the cheekbone of the beast’s face, and embedded it into Salva’s jawbone to pry it open, so he didn’t lose his arm.   

The weapon's cord snapped taut, and the harpoon head retracted, pulling out of Salva's shoulder and taking with it a sizable chunk of muscle and coarse, black fur. But before he could even react, the silver blade landed squarely at the base of his jaw - such a blinding, burning pain made the wolf want to die, and his yellow eyes widened to stare at Ivor's face, almost pleadingly, like the unfeeling beast in him longed for death. However, the stab only served to lock Salva's jaw, and the human in him abruptly decided that this was his moment to get even. The massive black wolf crunched down as hard as he could, feeling the man's arm shatter between his teeth, and gave a mighty wrench… sinews pulled, the joint was forced out of place, and skin and muscle were rented asunder as Ivor's arm was severed at the shoulder. Blood spattered on Salva's face, and he kept the limb in his jaws as he staggered backwards, blinded by anguish - his legs buckled and he collapsed onto the pavement, claws unable to gain traction over a film of his own lifeblood. Is this what it feels like to die…? 

Ivor went into immediate shock and his body-- it didn’t know what was happening and his mind was slowing down. He knew that something was missing, that the feeling-- the pain, it wasn’t there as the shock protected him and made his teeth clatter, but it wasn’t good. The blood loss had him stagger back as two of the men ran over and pushed his jacket into his arm. Trying to stop the blood gushing, and he felt like this might be the first time in a while where he might die on a hunt. “Fucking, Salva-- I’m sick of this!” He reached for his shotgun, and though weakened, the closest guy put it in his one hand, holding it steady and pointed it at Salva’s face. But before the trigger pulled, Ivor’s gaze moved bleary towards the road, and his heart almost stopped. A monstrous beast with amber eyes, on all fours, tearing up the asphalt from sheer speed was running right for them. “Go-- go, go--” the two men said at the same time and started to drag Ivor towards the truck who didn't have a choice but to go. The men had already pulled the body of the man killed into the back. 

Lucas’ hair was on end, and he barreled towards them, long gashes from his claws tearing up the ground as he pushed himself to go faster and catch the truck. The world blurred to that fine point, and Lucas felt his mind drift dangerously into a place of no return. The tired squealed and spun at the press of the acceleration, kicking up smoke that filled the road. As Lucas got close enough, he caught Ivor’s eye from the back window. The last time such an event happened, it was when he was shot in the head. Somehow, even with his arm torn off, seeing Lucas, even in wolf form, had the hunter smiling when he saw him. It made Lucas sick, his stomach rotting in disgust and his steps faltered against his will. The truck weaved and almost clipped him, and raced down the road. Lucas wanted to chase them but pivoted and ran towards the wolf; half shifted enough to grab his face with both hands, making sure he could smell him and looked him firmly in the eyes. His voice was deep, barely human tongues. 

“Salva-- hey, come on-- stay awake. Need to pull this out.”  

Somehow, even through the blood loss, Salva had managed to remain at least semi-conscious, and watched incredulously as a shotgun pointed at him was suddenly redirected. Another wolf came barreling in… that scent… Lucas?! He couldn't believe his eyes as Ivor and his men sped away in their truck, tires squealing in its haste - just like that, the hunter had once again vanished into thin air, and all that was left of him was that dark blood smeared on the pavement. Salva's ears swiveled to listen to Lucas as the young wolf approached, and his body language betrayed his usually cold demeanor - the tip of his long black tail thumped slowly against the concrete, as if to say Jesus, is it good to see you, kid. Salva raised his head to Lucas so he could help wrench the knife loose… he knew if he were to shift back with the metal in his jaw, the damage would be devastating. All he could do was brace himself for the pain. 

“I got you--” He held Salva’s face almost tenderly for being partially monstrous, and his chest ached at the damage. Lucas couldn’t fucking believe this. He was so mad, and it had been a freak chance that his nose caught Salva’s scent when he was outside to take out the trash. Damn, he owed his mother so much for training him so well in marking scents, and fuck, Gotch was close to his apartment. If Salva hadn’t caught onto to him-- well. Luke just happened to be alone tonight of all nights. Lucas held his jaw still, pressing his thumb near the tip of the blade to line it up, and pulled it out quickly, not wanting Salva to jump and cause it to go into the bone more. He held the beautiful item for a second, and his mind echoed at the sight of it-- knowing it was the same one used on him weeks ago, and all the other small cuts on his body ached in reminder. It felt like a warning or a threat being in his hands, and his eyes drifted back to the road before he half snarled, putting it in his back pocket, so it didn’t burn him. “I didn’t know you were on patrol, shit Salva-- he almost killed you.” 

The wolf's jaws fell open, and Ivor's arm thudded wetly onto the ground. Salva snarled hotly against the pain as the knife was removed, and it twisted into a string of human expletives as he shifted back. "Lucas, you idiot... you shouldn't be here," the man snarled through clenched teeth, his words broken up with frustration and shaking breaths. He looked as though he'd been thrown in a meat grinder… needed to stop the bleeding somehow. The man grabbed at a nearby patch of gravel and rubbed a handful onto his jaw and shoulder, knowing that it was definitely going to make the wound infected, but at least it would help the blood congeal. He looked up the road to where the truck disappeared. 

"Motherfucker… I fucking HAD him." Salva waved Lucas away and began to pull himself to his feet. "You shouldn't be here, kid. I had it handled." 

Lucas swelled with anger, and it was at a level he wasn’t familiar with. It was the word ‘had’ which stoked the coals. A meaty growl rumbled from him, and his body shifted subtly more with a creak of bones. His heart rate was still up from the run, and he was furious at being told he shouldn’t have come when a shotgun had been pointed at the other’s face. That perspective of Luke running up the road had him leaping forward and shifting entirely to get there. The entire time, he was expecting an explosion and Salva’ head in pieces on the goddamn road. The smell of Gotch was saturated in this space, and Luke inhaled it deeply, his body shaking from it against his will as fear swirled in his gut. His clothes were barely on his body from the shift and run, and he couldn’t slow his breathing. “I will not... see someone... die for me. Not from him!” he said frustrated. “I’m tired of this!” It shifted into a roar that he had to swallow down as not to alert anyone. His entire mind burned red because of it. He was right there. Salva almost died and if anyone could have killed Ivor-- Lucas’ thoughts darkened. Wanting to chase after the truck more than anything else.

“Come on, my place is right there--” Luke offered his shoulders. 

Salva managed to get to his feet, but only for a moment… he staggered and reached out to grip Lucas’ shoulder, his knuckles white. Dark black lifeblood steadily dripped onto the pavement, and it could be easily observed that he was going strictly on adrenaline alone - his heart thudded, and his breaths came heaving from a chest shining with sweat. He glanced sidelong to the tire marks the truck left on the road, licked some of Ivor’s blood absently from the corner of his mouth, but however alive he seemed, no one had scented death that night more clearly than Salva. The wounds he’d sustained were grievous, perhaps worse than any of his other run-ins with Ivor, and the image of staring down the barrel of the hunter’s shotgun was burned into his retinas. If Luke hadn’t shown up when he did… “Let him go, Lucas,” Salva said after a long moment, and his voice, usually so strong and confident, was nearly lifeless. It was undignified to accept help from a younger wolf, especially retreating to recover at his house, but if he didn’t get rest, death was still a very real possibility. “Yeah, if I could just… borrow your floor for a night…” There was a hot pressure in his throat. Why do I feel like crying…? 

His grip tightened around Salva’s waist, and hoisted him up enough to bare more of his weight so he didn’t stagger so much. Luke’s heart was hammering in concern for Salva, it was bad-- and the wound to his face might not heal well with that silver. Dammit. The silver dagger was tucked in his back pocket and it carried so much reminder to his own torture. “Gotch, when he was cutting me-- and I couldn’t get out of my head, even with the pain--” Lucas felt guilt suddenly swallow up the anger, and it nearly formed a black hole in his chest and it ached so bad he had to grit his teeth to stop frustrated tears from coming up. He walked steady, not wavering in keeping him up.

“He promised, he’d cut someone’s face I care about, scar them-- because I told him no again. To act as a reminder, that he will always win. No matter who I go too.” Luke’s breath faltered a little bit, the seam of his own wound had sealed up but was still causing him issues. It was aching and bleeding a little from the shift and run on all fours, scarred badly forever, another jagged reminder. He took them towards the back alleyway, which would keep them more out of sight. “Next time-- next time I don’t want him too. Please don’t go alone again.” 

Lucas's words were growing faint, as if spoken on the other side of a long tunnel, as Salva's healing responses were finally kicking in. He could feel it, his skin and muscles surveying the damage dealt, shocks down his limbs as reinforcements rushed to carry cells to the wounds and fight off bacteria… everywhere except the ripped gash in his cheek. There, no blood flowed, and the skin was becoming dark and dead from where the silver blade corroded his flesh away. He could even feel the chilly night air on his teeth as he glanced to Lucas, his expression tight and brow furrowed with the effort of speaking. His healing would soon be sapping every iota of his energy. "I'll never stop," Salva breathed flatly. "I'll find him again. And when I do, you're gonna be there, Lucas. I'm gonna hold that motherfucker down…while you rip his goddamn face off." A slight hitch in his voice. "I promise, kid." 

Luke looked sideways and down at Salva, noticing the further weakness in his steps which had Luke holding him tighter and situating him on his side differently so he didn’t fall down. The weight of Salva was not a hindrance, but it was always awkward to half drag someone. Luke pushed the code into the apartment, and the back door opened. They met eye to eye when Salva spoke, surprised he wasn’t unconscious with the dead weight, amber rings, and spots of fur, the two beasts a bloody mess, with anger still burning hot in their veins for more fight even with the current state. Luke smiled, something brighter than a full moon, making that youthfulness he always carried spread out over his cheeks, and struck his eyes with hope. “Okay. Come on, I really should hose you off,” Lucas joked, but got them up the stairs into his apartment so he could make sure Salva didn’t die. 

“Thank you--” he whispered later. Watching over him.

[fauhwn]

(wtf fauhwn uses proper grammar??) Howdy folks; this is pretty well overdue considering I made up these kids back in August, but I kept changing the story so there's a lot of inconsistency, and I apologize for that, haha.

Anyways today we-well-I, will be discussing/sharing Ryan's backstory

btw i have little to no knowledge on the military which will be a big part of ryan's story, so forgive me.

(The ski mask son of a bitch)

Again I make changes to the story every 0.2 seconds that my mind can functionally think. Also warning this will be fairly long considering I write a lot.

Ryan McClain (fake identity, not his actual name) was born in Michigan, in the more Northern, rural regions. His birthday is on November 13th, and was born anywhere from 1982-1990, also 6'5. (he's 25 in the story I just quite haven't put a pin on what year it takes place in. But the years are around 2005-2011) His father's name is John Reyes. His mother was Deborah Reyes. She died when Ryan was around 4-5 due to a sickness. John was heartbroken, since he really loved her. He's not a very good father to Ryan, and even before Deborah's death he was pretty shit. Anyways he always brings some woman home every couple of months. Ryan had like 3 or 4 stepmoms lol. They were all bitches too so Ryan didn't like any of them.

When Ryan's mother died, his uncle, David Reyes, took care of him a lot. (Even before her death him and his uncle would get along.) David is a super kind man, and is the older brother of John by quite a lot of years. He was born in like the 1940s or 50s, likely the latter, and was part of like, the Special Forces or something I think. Is also a Vietnam Veteran. Before Ryan was born his wife and son were killed in a car accident, so I guess Ryan reminded David of his son and only caused him to love him more. Anyways he and Ryan would go hunting a lot, and Ryan caught his first animal with a rifle at the age of 7. With the help of his uncle of course. Most of the time Ryan just did all of these things to try and impress his father, who basically did not care. David felt bad for him and he just loved Ryan so he always made sure to give Ryan the attention and love he deserved.

So basically David was the father figure that Ryan needed in his life.

David inspired Ryan a ton, and he'd always marvel at the various medals that David has hung up in a small room in his house, and Ryan wanted to join the military too when he was older. David was in his uh.. 50s, but he still had lots of fight left in him, and teached Ryan a lot of self-defense tactics as well as going to shooting ranges with him. David was a medic too I think. Well he had some prior knowledge on medicine anyways. So he passes that down to Ryan too, and teaches him how to treat stab wounds, bullet wounds, tying a tourniquet, stopping blood loss, etc.

Straying away from Ryan and his lovely uncle we now delve into some more personal shit. So anyways Ryan develops a crush on this girl, Susan, when he first went to high school. They actually dated quite a while later after being friends for a bit, and dated for a long time. And Ryan really liked her.

Now Ryan finishes high school and he's enlisted. He's got a lot of knowledge from his uncle, and it was his uncle who inspired him to join the Marines. He promises his girlfriend and uncle that he will spend as much time with them as he can when he isn't on tour.

Fast forward Ryan is on tour, he's with some guy named Richard Stilles. They're both very capable men, and got along well.

Ryan met this little boy while he was there. He knew no English, but Ryan, being the soft piece of shit he is, sort of just stayed with the little kid for a bit, gave him some snacks and such, tried to have fun with him amidst the war.

Then later, when Richard and Ryan were looking out, they were told there was a little child carrying a bomb. Ryan was like "shit i ain't killing a child"

Suddenly the little boy that Ryan helped out comes out. Ryan smiles, happy to see him okay, but Richard has that constant neutral face on him. The kid starts walking towards Ryan, and Richard pulls up his gun.

"Woah woah Rich, what are you doing?"

"You heard them. Kid has a bomb."

"Wh-wait we can't know for sure it's him! Put the gun down!"

"Can't take any half-measures, Jim."

"We can't kill a fucking child!"

"It's him or us Jim."

Anyways Ryan tries to stop Richard, but the kid kept coming forward.

"Richard please, put the fucking gun down."

Richard starts to aim 😎

"RICHARD PUT IT DOWN-"

BANG!

So the kid drops dead to the floor and Ryan is like 😱 and Richard is like 😐 (He always has a neutral face on) and this shit traumatizes Ryan. Also Richard is some psychopath or something.

Turns out the kid didn't even have a bomb, and Ryan was literally shaking with anger and had tears in his eyes, and nearly beat the shit out of Richard but his other buddy, Samuel, talked him out of it.

Anyways a few more years later Ryan is honorably discharged at 24 years old. He returns home to find out that the 'love of his life' was constantly cheating on him. This shatters Ryan, and he gets just so fucking furious, and Susan and Ryan have a fight. Obviously they break up, and part ways.

Not too long after, Ryan is walking around, when he discovers Susan and some other man. He starts harrassing her, which escaltes to assault. Ryan immediately jumps in, but the dude was pretty fucking aggravated. (It was because Susan said something that wasn't a big deal but he wasn't having it.) In the process, Ryan kills the guy. He's like 😱😱 and Susan is like 😨. Instinctively Ryan rushes to his uncle's house, panicking. Eventually he spills out what just happened to his uncle. David is obviously shocked, but tells Ryan he needs to leave. He knows a guy who can give out fake identities. So anyways David hands Ryan the information.

While Ryan tries to leave, he bumps into Susan. She promises she won't say anything, saying she'll just say it was an 'act of self-defense' by her. Ryan is worried she'll get arrested but Susan is like 'nah i'm a woman we don't go to jail'. She's a bitch but she's still a mildly good person.

Anyways Ryan flies to New York City where he spends his time wearing the infamous ski mask in public to hide his identity (pretty stupid but it just became a habit). His uncle heard he lives in New York, and moves to Vermont. Ryan visits David whenever he can, usually once or twice every few months. But they're in good touch anyway since they're close to each other lol.

Remember our insignificant but soon-to-be-pretty-significant guy Samuel? Turns out he's in NY too. Is paid to treat people outside of the hospital. Anyways so Ryan and Samuel get in touch too.

Fast forward to a year is where the story starts and Ryan meets Zoey.

Oh and about his personality - he's a very pragmatic guy, and is overall pretty chill, cold, and distant. Well if you're close to him then he's more bright. A bit witty if I might add. Doesn't talk much unless-again-you're close to him.

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 18/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

“Fucking hell!” Ben yelled as his coffee mug shattered against the bedroom wall.

Rey had left the premises. Yesterday he’d had her, in every sense of the word, and this morning she had turned on him. He had been this close—this fucking close—to getting her to trust him for good.

To getting into her panties you mean, snarked his subconscious, cause that would turn out so well.

Yeah, well so what? We’re both consenting adults here. What’s wrong with a little pleasure now and then?

It was Syed who sounded the alarm.  As reckless and undisciplined as she was, she was still his best Knight of Ren. He would hate to fire her, even though he would not hesitate to do it, if necessary.

She had called him at three in the morning to inform him that Rey Jakku had repacked her car and left the parking lot;  hitting the road again in record time.

Syed had followed yet again, evidently taking her assignment seriously. At least he would always know where his mystery girl was hiding.

On the other hand, he had just lost one of his guitarists for the concert this evening, which annoyed him more than he wanted to admit. But the advantage of having seven band members was that they could afford to run a few errands and still keep the show running.

Hayat and Neil, his two-person light and sound crew, would roll up in their van any minute now to set up the venue. The entire  day would be devoted to equipment tests and a rapid dress-rehearsal of the set list, a task even more essential in the absence of Syed.  Ben would have preferred to take his car and follow Rey, join her, tell her he was sorry—or whatever it would take to convince her to come back—and resume exactly where they had left off the day before.

She’d talked about following them on tour.  Would she follow through?

His phone rang, the screen displaying a stern visage with a severely parted red combover.

Hux.

"Ren.” He uttered curtly, putting the phone up to his ear.

“Hello, Kylo. How are your holidays going?”

“Even on vacation I'm more efficient than you’ll ever be in the office. Let’s just say it’s going well.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re rehearsing for tonight's concert, the weather is nice and the hot tub is fantastic.” Ben replied with a smirk, knowing full well that Armitage Hux detested distractions.

The latter gave an exasperated sigh, as expected.  "For fuck’s sake, I’m not the Yellowstone Tourism Office—I'm talking about your mission!”

“And what, exactly, do you want to know about my mission?”

“What are you doing and with whom? Did you get information on what Earth Soldiers is planning?”

"Are you saying you and Snoke are floundering?” Ben laughed.  “Don’t you have an army of spies, and twice as many lawyers? How is my mother managing to outmaneuver you?”

"When I'm done with your mother, you'll have to pick her out of the gutter, Ren.”

"You’re all talk," Ben chuckled. “I feel like she’s playing with your head.”

There was a long silence filled only by Hux’s agitated breathing. His final response was venomous.”Exactly which side are you on? You seem to enjoy our setbacks a little too much.”

“I’m on my side,” he responded, “and I answer to Snoke and Snoke alone. Pay attention to your own mission and leave me to mine.”

He hung up without waiting for an answer.  He knew what Hux was looking for: he wanted to know everything about Earth Soldiers' latest spy, Rey Jakku.  But Ben would not give him anything of such importance. Rey was his mission, his target, his prize.  Phasma had missed her chance.  Too bad for her—From now on, Rey was his.  And soon enough, she would be his in every sense of the word.

His phone vibrated again with a new call. This time, Ben's smile dissipated. It was Snoke.

“Sir?”

“Kylo Ren.  I was waiting for a report from you this morning. Have I missed it by mistake? Because I don’t make mistakes.”

“No sir.  I —I didn’t send one.”

“And you will send it to me at the end of this call, I suppose?”

“No sir.”

“Explain yourself.”

Snoke’s barely audible voice had lost its saccharine undertones. Ben inhaled deeply before uttering his next words.

“The—the girl escaped me. But I’m tracking her as we speak, I know exactly where she is and what she’s doing.”

“What exactly is your strategy, Kylo Ren?  Follow her like a good little pet and contentedly snap up whatever pieces of information she deigns to give you?”

“No, I—I’m in control of the situation, sir.” Ben stammered, taken aback. “I will soon extract the information we need from her.”

Snoke had really gone for the kill. His strategy, which had been flawless as far as his argument with Hux was concerned, suddenly seemed doomed to fail.

Snoke continued: "Stop beating around the bush, Kylo Ren. Find her. Demand answers. Make it so. I want to know what she's scheming, her connection to Earth Soldiers, and especially whatever it is she has with Leia Skywalker.”

Ben Solo shuddered at hearing his mother's name laced with so much hatred. She hadn’t always been a good mother; she had rarely listened, and she had been far too absent. But she remained his mother, and she largely paid the price for his indiscretions, condemned to die of old age in solitude under her prefabricated tin roof. He clenched his fist and took another breath.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.  Oh, and Kylo Ren?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Stop blundering about like a teenage boy. She's the one manipulating you here. Enough games; I demand results.”

Ben frowned. Blundering? He hadn’t let anything slip, he was sure.  He feigned ignorance:

“I fail to see what you're talking about, sir.  I have the situation under control.”

"Don’t you dare lie to me, Kylo Ren. Do not forget what you owe me.”

“I won’t forget, sir.”

“Good.  I'll call you back soon.”

And with that, he hung up.

Seconds later, he received a series of text messages from Snoke’s personal number. He selected the first, puzzled.

His heart skipped a beat.

It was a picture of him and Rey from the day before, passionately making out against a wall at the bar. His right hand disappeared under her dress and hers was visibly splayed against his fly.

There’s your blunder, Solo. How did Snoke find them?  Who took these pictures?

Behind the wheel of her SUV, Syed drained a can of Red Bull and crushed the empty aluminium vessel between her fingers.  She had hardly slept thanks to this wild goose chase of a mission. Just yesterday she had found herself forced to trudge through a six mile hike (off the main trail too, so as not to alert Jane Doe or her dog)  after which she had to use her gun to chase off a bear...how was one girl able to cause her so much fatigue?  

And it was a fucking bear, no less. It had taken all her concentration, all her will, to just aim close enough to hurt the bear to make it run away without a fatal injury—even as an assassin in the service of a nebulous multinational conglomerate, she was unwilling to kill a bear for no reason. Or kill the girl. At least by accident.

Definitely by accident.

It would have been so easy. An isolated bullet, fired from her vantage point atop the rocks, and the corpse would have been found three days later.

No more spy hunting, no more love triangles. Kylo would mourn for a few days of course, frustrated at not being able to add her to the notches on his bedpost, but she would console him instead, and everything would be back to normal.

Who was she kidding?  Kylo would have immediately understood, and he would have killed her.  Maybe literally, even.  He would have resorted to making her life hell, or putting an end to it. He wouldn’t even need to get his hands dirty. An order to Shakti, or Skylar, and Syed would have had no chance. It would be impossible to face six knights alone.

"Patience," she repeated to herself.  "The time will come, the girl will step out of his life, and everything will go back to normal. And you, you will shine in your devotion, he will respect even more, and he will come back to you.”

She had been surprised to see Rey tear herself away from Kylo's embrace the night before. As it were, she had expected her to fuck him on the spot.

But no, something had happened, Rey had adjusted her dress before striding off. Did Kylo say something stupid?  That would be typical of him...all his bravado was a front.

Rey had returned to her car, and Syed had thought she was about to lose her mark. By the time she found her own vehicle, she had no idea what direction the Falcon had taken.

But she managed to find it at a campsite fifteen minutes later. Rey was huddled in a sweatshirt while crying her eyes out over the phone. Syed could only hear bits and pieces, but she was able to glean that Rey was calling contacts in England: her mother, a girlfriend, and a guy named Poe.  Nothing of grand importance to FORCE, and not in connection with Earth Soldiers.

She was either the best spy Syed had ever encountered, or the most incompetent person in history. Perhaps this Rey debacle was a red herring, a little fantasy whipped up by the cunning Leia Skywalker. She knew FORCE hated the Millennium Falcon, the unofficial mascot of their resistance crew. It was genius, really. Put a no-name extra in there and have her drive aimlessly across the country. All the while FORCE mobilized an army of agents to track her, and Ren’s team spent precious time investigating a trap. Time that Skywalker spent plotting with her counsel. It was just a diversion.

Brilliant.

Nevertheless, there was only one way to find out for sure, and for that she had to keep spying on the girl, hour by hour.

Said girl refused to sleep, opting instead to take the road north. Access to Yellowstone was closed at night, so Rey had stopped at a nearby gas station to refuel, buy a coffee and a cold-cut sandwich, and take a nap in the back of her car.

She entered Yellowstone National Park at 9:30 AM, through the south gate. Syed followed, finding herself inching through the morning line, a few vehicles away. She cradled her face in her hands.

Yellowstone, really? Did Rey intend to engage in actual tourism?!

And why not?  Rey was tired.  Tired of having slept too little, tired of being alone, tired of having no one to talk to.  As she drove through the national park in the direction of the Tourist Information Center and the infamous Old Faithful geyser, she wondered what she was fleeing, who she was fleeing.

Her mind kept coming back to Ben Solo.  To his mouth, to his hands, to the outline of his body that she had been able to trace under his clothes. Why then was she running away?  Finn had left her, after all;  how long should she grieve what she had before?

She had admitted to Jessika yesterday how she had clung to Ben like a life raft against the tide of her own loneliness. But it had been too fast, too intense. She seemed to panic at the thought of having to let him go one day. It was the sinking sort of anxiety that had clung to her bones since childhood, the fear of being unloved, never good enough for her absentee parents who worked such long hours that they barely had time for her. It had been the same with Finn, she clung to him so desperately that she never saw the signs, however obvious they appeared in hindsight.

And eventually, Finn had rejected her too.  Then she had left, alone, as if to prove to herself that she was capable of it; and had thrown herself—with an almost laughable sense of relief— into the arms of the next man she encountered.

Ben Solo seen through her very soul when he observed, aloud, that she feared loneliness. Was she so easy to read?

BB8 squeaked her toy and Rey smiled.  She was never truly alone. She was the guardian of this adorable fur ball, and she was going to bring her back to her master, wherever he was hiding. It was simple: take care of the dog, bring her home. That she could do. At least then she was of use to someone.

On the passenger seat, her phone vibrated. Rey reached out and grabbed it without letting go of the steering wheel. A new text appeared on her lock screen.

It was Ben.

Sorry for last night, I hope he gets better and I hope you’re feeling better too. Will you make the concert tonight? Call me.

⁃Kylo

She made a face, he really had to sign it as Kylo.

What a bloody ridiculous stage name.

Rey had the feeling she was witnessing a veritable identity crisis: On one hand there was Ben Solo, the sentimental stranger who commiserated in her loneliness and wanted to befriend her dog. On the other there was Kylo Ren, the arrogant, leather clad rockstar who would kiss and tell, with absolutely no strings attached.

Who was she out with last night?

Which one of them did she kiss?

She wouldn’t go to the concert she decided, she didn’t feel like answering him either. But she knew his next show was going to be at West Yellowstone in two days.

In the meantime, she would have plenty of time to ruminate.

[rosy-night-sky]

Of Treasure and Adventure

Genre: Treasure Hunter/Indiana Jones AU

Pairing: Ot7 x reader

Summary: Your grandmother gave you a gift that she won in a game, so naturally you are curious as to the origins of it. A decision was then made that you should seek the answers to your questions. However, you never expected your decision to lead you on a treasure hunting quest.

Warnings: Violent and suggestive themes

Tag List: @sevenincubistolemyheart @xxqueenwxtchxx @technicolor-blues @taevkimchi @youcantbesiriusremus @vannilacake @baby-hobii @catsandstrawberries

Chapter 6

You seriously considered going into therapy after this whole fiasco. Gunshots rang throughout the stone room and nearly shattered your eardrums. Each shot was even louder than the last, making you constantly flinch repeatedly as you tried to make yourself smaller behind the tree you and Jungkook hid behind. The colt Jungkook gave you laid unused at your side as you curled up into a ball, wanting all of this to desperately stop.

Why the bloody hell were people trying to kill you?! You thought  this was going to just a simple expedition with the worst being killer crocodiles and the occasional mugger, not a whole pack of men sent from bloody wherever they came from just to kill you!

Jungkook pulled himself down with a sharp curse hissing through his mouth. A few bullets skidded by in between the two of you, chipping off bits of wood and bark to shower upon you. You yelped squeakily hearing the sound of wood splintering and cracking and feeling the sensation of shards of pelt your face, torso, and arms.

Jungkook held the shotgun against his chest, once in awhile peering over the tree to get a better view of the enemy. After he heard your shriek, his jerked his eyes to you frantically, worried that a stray bullet might have injured you. However, once he noticed your terrified form and the untouched colt on the ground, his concern was instantly replaced by the furrowing of his eyebrows bemusedly. “Why aren’t you shooting?!” he demanded, shouting over the sound of enemy fire.

You brought your horrified gaze to his and looked at him as if he suddenly grew two heads. “I’ve never shot a gun before!!!” you screamed, your voice cracking under panicked strain. “And you want me to fucking murder people?!” You couldn’t believe how serious he was. Did he really expect you to just suddenly pick up a gun and start filling people with bullets?

He scooped up the gun quickly from the floor and roughly pushed it into your shaky hand, careless about the fact that you were ready to piss yourself. “You’re not murdering them if it’s self-defense!” he pointed out, pausing to pop up and shoot a round at the attacker. “And you’re a photographer! It’s just like using a camera! You just aim and shoot!”

You stared at him with wide eyes in wild disbelief. He really was daft, wasn’t he? “This is nothing like shooting a fucking camera!!!” you cried, ready to start pulling out your hair in frustration and panic. You screamed once more when an enemy bullet embedded itself in the wall in front of you, causing chunks of rocks and dust to pour upon you.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung called from his spot with some of the others. “We could use some back up over here!”

Jungkook fired once more before crouching down next to you. He grabbed his pack lying on the ground and rummaged through it before pulling out a Thompson sub machine gun. Your eyes widened so large it looked as if your eyes were bulging from their sockets. Your jaw dropped unceremoniously at the sight of the large gun. “You have a bloody Tommy gun?!” How the fuck did that fit in his pack?

Jungkook ignored you and loaded the shotgun with a few more cartridges before standing back up. “Tae!” He tossed the shotgun carefully but yet forcefully across the room. You assumed Taehyung caught the gun because right away you could heard the sound of gunshots blasting into your ears.

“Just how many of these guys are there?” you wondered out loud, more to yourself than the boy sitting next to you. You just assumed that there was the one man, but now it sounded like there were multiple people trying to kill you and the rest of the team.

Jungkook quickly clicked the magazine into place before giving you a judging look. “If you got up and started shooting, you could find out,” he jeered, his tone light as if he said the most obvious thing in the world. He then got back up and shot repeatedly at the enemy.

Like hell you were going to pick up that gun. You wanted to know if there was a way you could perhaps make a run for it? However, you figured that the moment you poked your head from your hiding place you would get a bullet right between your eyes. Maybe you should just leave all of this to Jungkook? This was his job, after all. He was meant to keep you safe.

You slammed your eyes shut and covered your ears with your hands, blocking out the chaos. You just wanted all of this to go away, to stop. You hoped that this was all a very horrible nightmare, that you could just wake up and forget everything. This just couldn’t be real. Why would anyone want to hurt you? It wasn’t like this was private property; you weren’t trespassing. Certainly it wasn’t the police. So who was it?

You snapped from you thoughts when you felt something hit your foot. As your eyes flew open, you looked down to see what touched you. At first, you guessed it was a rock or some chunks of wood, but, no, it was far worse. You saw a grenade roll casually on the floor like a child’s ball without the pin. Your stomach lurched to your throat as all the air in your lungs disappeared.

 Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Your instincts took over in that moment. All reason and caution was thrown into the wind like a paper bag as you dove for the explosive. When you gripped the cold metal tightly in your hand, you shot up and leaned over the fallen tree, completely forgetting the possibility of getting shot. Your free hand landed on Jungkook’s shoulder as you sped forward and yanked him back as you chucked the grenade with all your might. “GRENADE!!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs as the explosive in question soared through the air.

While the grenade flew ahead of you, you fully grabbed a hold of Jungkook and wrenched him down to take cover from the explosion. You hoped that wherever you threw the grenade wasn’t in close proximity to any of the other members, but all you could do was wait fearfully for the inevitable while clinging to Jungkook tightly.

As you expected, a loud combustion exploded a few meters from you, shaking the room from the shock waves and causing dirt and dust to spray both you and Jungkook. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as if it was ready to burst. A group of shrill screams rang throughout the room, and you feared for a moment that your teammates were caught in the crossfire.

However, your fears dissipated when you heard Jimin call out, “Nice one, y/n!” Relief washed over you. Thank God, you must’ve thrown it in the general area of the attackers.

You turned your gaze to meet Jungkook’s round eyes. You held his gaze for a few moments, staring deeply into the soft expression swimming around in his eyes. Then they twinkled with amusement as he pulled away back against the tree. “Oh, sure, you can pick up an explosive ready to go off, but you can’t even pick up a gun?” he taunted, his lips spreading out into a broad grin.

You would’ve snapped back a retort, but your attention was snapped from him by a series of gunshots. You flinched once more as you dove back into your previous. Damn, you thought the grenade would’ve gotten most of them, but that didn’t seem to be the case unfortunately.

Your eyes wandered slowly back to the colt lying undisturbed on the ground. He did have a point. You just held a grenade in the palm of your hand just seconds prior. You could’ve died just as easily as you would shooting a gun. Besides, even if Jungkook was the muscle of the team, you couldn’t just sit by and risk his life protecting you. You needed to pull your own weight.

Scooping the gun off the ground, you popped up from your hiding position along with Jungkook and took aim at anyone who you didn’t recognize. You quickly noticed that the grenade you threw back destroyed the pedestal in the center along with a crater with bodies slumped around it. Huh, you supposed you really did good.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement from a man wearing all black hiding back a pile of debris. His shoulder peeled out enough for you to maybe get a kill. You aimed at his shoulder and released the safety before pulling the trigger. The gunshot was a lot louder than you expected, and the shock from the kickback ran up your arms. You felt a sharp pain blossom from your injured arm, and a groan escaped your lips as you gritted your teeth.

You saw that your bullet made its mark, but it unfortunately only injured him. You pulled down as you heard him cry out loudly in pain. You hoped that you would’ve been able to kill him, but this was the first time you ever shot a gun. You didn’t expect to suddenly become a professional gunslinger.

 “Not bad,” Jungkook commented as he downed two men. He pulled down just as a series of bullets embedded themselves in the wall just behind him. “Your stance is much to be desired though.”

You scowled deeply, an irritated snort leaving your lips. “I don’t think I have time for a lesson,” you bit back, peering over the tree to see if anyone was open.

“Weren’t you crying on the ground a few minutes ago? Where did this attitude come from?” he chuckled teasingly, unloading another round at a few more men.

 You opened your mouth to retort but was interrupted when you saw someone scurry to your side frantically. You shrieked and instantly aimed your colt at the intruder. However, you relaxed when you saw it was merely Hoseok, staring at you with wide eyes with his hands raised in the air in surrender.

“Hey! Hey! Whoa! It’s just me!” Hoseok babbled, panting erratically from fear.

You lowered you gun, willing yourself to calm your rapidly beating heart. “Hobi, are you alright?” you asked, looking him over for any injuries.

Hoseok collapsed at your side, hand hovering over where his heart was. His eyes fluttered shut as he focused on returning his breathing back to a normal pace. “That first bullet got Namjoon,” he revealed, causing your heart to nearly stop. “Hit him right in the shoulder. Tore some muscle tissue. He’s damn lucky the bullet didn’t hit his subclavian artery. His chances of living would be a whole lot different if it did.”

“Is he going to survive?” you asked desperately. Your throat stung with the whirlwind of emotions than coursed within you. You don’t know what you’d do if the historian died. You’ve grown very close to him, and he obviously thought very well of you.

You noticed that one of the sleeves on Hoseok’s shirt was torn off. He must’ve made a makeshift arm sling for Namjoon. The doctor released a drawn out breath. “His chances of living are looking good so far.” He wiped the cold sweat that collected on his brow. “I don’t know how I was able to get the bullet out. I’m not used to preforming emergency surgeries with gunfire going on around me.”

You released an airy laugh verging on the brink of sounding hysterical. “Oh, Hobi, you’re a godsend.” You wrapped your arms around his sweaty and sticky torso. You almost cried tears of relief hearing that Namjoon was most likely going to survive.

“Don’t thank me yet.” He pulled away, jerkily looking around as if paranoid that an enemy would pop out of nowhere. “Thank me when we get out of here. I guess you and Kookie are holding up pretty well here?”

You nodded distractedly, noticing one of the men in black making his way toward you and Hoseok. With a determined look flashing over your features, you raised your gun and filled his chest with a number of bullets. The man convulsed for a moment before dropping down dead. Hoseok yelped loudly when you shot past him, covering his ears to block the loud noises.

“Yeah, we’re doing pretty jolly good here, I think,” you answered nonchalantly, ignoring the shocked expression that painted the doctor’s face.

“Shit!” Jungkook cursed, pulling you and him down as bullets blazed last you all. He gritted his teeth in frustration. “These guys never end! We’re holed up like rats in here!”

“There’s no way we could blast our way through?” you demanded, keeping your head low to avoid exposing yourself.

Jungkook shook his head furiously. “Not in here. Those guys are camping in the other room where our only exit is. Even if we managed to power our way through, the cave provides no cover for us. We’ll be slaughtered like dogs if we get caught in there,” he responded, glancing over every once and awhile.

“There’s got to be another way out!” Hoseok exclaimed, his breathing returning to an erratic pattern. “Our ancestors must’ve gotten out of here somehow!”

You looked at the walls frantically, your head jerking around in search. “A hidden door, maybe! There’s got to be an exit somewhere!” you shouted.

“If there’s a hidden door around here, it would’ve revealed itself already!” Jungkook argued, ripping off the empty magazine and snapping another on aggressively.

Hoseok began hyperventilating next to you. “Oh my God... we’re gonna die down here,” he sobbed, fingers gripping his hair so tightly his knuckles turned paper white.

You grabbed the doctor by the shoulders and yanked him forward so the only thing he could see was your frustrated face. Your steadfast gaze bore into his alarmed eyes, his eyes flickering around searching your face. “Hoseok, calm down,” you instructed, feeling his breathing fan your face. “We’re going to be fine. We can’t have our doctor on the verge of a meltdown, okay? You can’t help anyone if you’re in the middle of breakdown.”

He nodded almost violently, swallowing a lump that was seemingly caught in his throat. “Okay,” he croaked quietly. “I’ll be fine...”

You nodded affirmatively and searched the room once more, looking for anything that could aid you. Anything would do at this point. Finally, your wandering eyes landed on the one thing that could be the possible door to salvation. The hole in the ceiling... it’s definitely large enough for all of you to climb through. That had to be the way out.

“Jungkook!” you gasped, hitting his forearm to gain his attention. Once he turned his focus to you, you jabbed a finger wildly at the hole in the ceiling. “We could get out through there!”

Jungkook followed where your finger was pointing and shook his head in disagreement. “No way, we’ll get shot down before we climb up there!” he protested, shooting a few more men before continuing, “If you know a way to buy us a little time to get through, then that’d be our best shot.”

Bollocks, now you needed to figure out a way to distract the men long enough to get everyone through the hole. You peered over the tree to explore the room once more, searching the doorway that Taehyung blew up for any weakness that could be exploited.

Wait...

Taehyung...

That’s it!

“Tae!” you screeched across the room, locating the demolition expert hiding behind another tree.

He unloaded his shotgun into another man, blood and flesh spraying forth from his body. Hearing your call, he momentarily looked in your direction before refocusing on the men pouring in. “What is it?!” he yelled back, blowing another man’s head clean off.

“The doorway! Make the doorway cave in!” you shouted, pointing at the hole in the wall where the gunmen were pouring in.

His eyes snapped to the doorway and puzzled together what you were insinuating. Once everything clicked in his mind, he grinned broadly and flashed you his smile. “Y/n, you’re a genius!” He retreated back to where the other boys hid, shooting with their own pistols they had in their packs. He shoved his shot gun into Jimin’s arms, who didn’t hesitate to take it and begin filling some bodies with bullets.

Taehyung scoured through his pack frenziedly, as if he were a wild animal. As he did so, you blasted anyone that you knew you could certainly kill. The shock that ran up your arms from the kickbacks caused your injuried arm to throb with pain, but all you could do was bite back the pain and continue shooting. Your life was on the line here. You couldn’t afford to stop.

Taehyung, with a triumphant shout, pulled out another grenade from his pack. You noticed, however, that this appeared to be rather different from the one you chucked earlier. Somehow, it looked more deadly than yours, although you couldn’t place a finger as to why.

He ripped the pin from the explosive and hurled it toward the doorway. It bounced around the fumbled scattered around it before settling down in a crevice. “Everyone get down!!!” Taehyung roared before diving down behind cover.

Everyone did as he said and took cover wherever they could. The explosion was almost immediate. It shook the room more violently than before, and more chunks of rock and dirt poured down upon you. You heard the sound of rock collapsing on top of each other along with the shouts and cries of enemy retreating or getting buried under the rubble. For a mere moment, you feared the whole room would cave in on you.

Luck seemed to be on your side. As only the doorway collapsed upon itself, cutting you and the team from the intruders. Well, save for the occasional man that was already in the room before the explosion. However, they were quickly gunned down by Jungkook or Jimin before they could make a move.

Once the dust settled and the chaos seemed to end, everyone slowly got up from where they hid, looking around for anything that meant them harm. You helped Hoseok up and took a few steps out into the open, relief washing over you as you realized that everyone was momentarily safe.

Jin wandered over to one of the dead men and searched his body, his face completely still with solemnity. His hands left nothing overlooked, rummaging through every pocket and cavity. Finally, he pulled out a slip of paper from one of the pockets and unfolded it. His eyes ran over the words scribbled onto it before he growled furiously and crumpled up the piece of paper in his hands. He suddenly shot up. “I fucking knew it!” he seethed as he flung the crumpled up ball across the room.

“What is it?” Namjoon questioned weakly, using Jimin as a support. His arm laid limply in a makeshift arm sling, and you noticed the deep scarlet stain the shoulder of his shirt.

Jin didn’t reply at first. He inhaled deeply before exhaling with just as much fervor, attempting to quell his fury. “The Japanese were notified of us.” There was a pause of stunned silence before he suddenly laughed humorlessly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “And you want to know who notified them?” He threw an arm in your direction, and, for a moment, you were afraid that he was going to accuse you again. “Your apparent mugger was actually a spy for them.” He chuckled once more, wringing his hands in thought. “Oooooh, the irony is just too good. History repeats itself once more! The Indian traitor reveals to the enemy the location of the Koreans’ whereabouts and then come to slaughter them!”

Your mind boggled with the number of questions you wanted to ask. “What? How? I didn’t know some Indian civilians were even loyal to the Japanese government!”

“He didn’t have to be loyal,” Namjoon remarked somberly. “He could’ve been forced to. The Japanese could’ve easily threatened him into doing their bidding.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “But why pose as a mugger?” you questioned.

Jin shrugged his broad shoulders indifferently. “Maybe to clarify that it was us without rousing too much suspicion? After all, it’s rather odd that a group of foreigners decided to come to this area for ‘tourism’.”

Yoongi folded his arms irritatedly. “Doesn’t explain how they found us so quickly,” he mentioned.

“Well, it wasn’t like we were trying to be subtle,” Jimin pointed out, readjusting Namjoon’s hold on him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if our screams were heard from China.”

“I blame Hoseok. His screams were the loudest.”

“What?! I wasn’t trying-!”

You interrupted Hoseok by slapping a hand over his mouth, giving him a look that meant that he was proving everyone’s point. The doctor mumbled grumpily into your hand before pulling himself away.

Taehyung grabbed his pack and threw it over his shoulders before grabbing the shotgun from Jimin. “Well, this has been fun and all, but I think we should be getting going before the Japanese find a way through that.” He gestured to the large pile of rocks before taking a few steps toward the hole in the ceiling.

Everyone silently agreed and followed toward the center of the room, paying small attention to the shattered pedestal strewn about. Jimin unhooked his grappling rope from his belt and swung the hooked end a few times until he tossed it up. The hook caught itself on a tree root that was threatening to spill over into the hole. After he tested it to make sure it was secure, he held out the rope for anyone to take.

Namjoon shuffled in his spot for a few moments before suggesting, “I should go last. That way when everyone else has gone through I can just hold onto the rope, and you guys can pull me up. Then I won’t have to injure myself even further.”

“Just try not to strain your pectoral muscles when holding on, okay?” Hoseok added before wrapping his hands around the rope. He made a move to start climbing up, but Jungkook grabbed his arm to stop him.

“I should go first,” he declared, glancing up at the sunlight pouring in. “In case any soldiers are up there waiting for us. I’m the one with the most training in arms and combat.”

No one argued with him, and Hoseok moved aside for Jungkook to climb up. The youngest smoothly scaled up the rope in a matter of seconds, and it surprised you at how effortlessly he pulled himself up. You imagined that your trip up wasn’t going to go quite as swimmingly as his did.

After a few moments of tense silence, Jungkook popped his head back down the hole, his hair flopped upside down. “It’s safe!”

 After Hoseok, Jin, and Yoongi climbed up, you grabbed the rope almost hesitatedly. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to go up. No, if anything you never wanted to return to this godforsaken place as long as you lived. Rather, you were unsure if you could actually climb up. The climb relied on strength, considering that you had nothing to pushed yourself up against.

Nonetheless, you hopped up and made your ascend. Embarrassingly enough, your trip up was a little slower than everyone else’s, seeing as you’ve never done anything like this before. However, when you got close to the top, Jungkook reached down and offered his hand, which you gladly took. He then effortlessly pulled you up and through the hole, landing on soft, plush grass.

As you laid on the ground looking around for any Japanese soldiers, Taehyung and Jimin made their trip up as quickly as they could. They knew that they had to be quick in order to avoid risking the soldiers locating them. Jimin moved himself so he sat next to you, also looking out into the distance.

“See anyone?” he murmured quietly so only you could hear.

You leaned closer to him, not tearing your gaze away from the scenery in front of you. “If I did, I would’ve let you guys know already,” you replied, stating the obvious.

Jimin hummed in reply, ignoring your comment, before adding, “If we’re lucky, we can hopefully get out of here before anymore soldiers find us.” He craned his neck around to look behind him. “The Jeep is probably our safest bet out of here, but I wonder if they’ve already found it.”

Your attention was snatched from Jimin when you heard Jungkook groaning. You saw the youngest pulling up the rope with all his might, jaw clenched and sweat building up on his forehead. Namjoon finally came into view, and you and the others all rushed to grab him carefully without injuring him further.

Namjoon rolled onto the grass next to you, once you all pulled him through. Sweat ran down his face in small rivers, and you guessed that he must’ve placed a lot of strength in just being able to hold on with one arm. Hoseok knelt down at his side and checked his wounds over, looking to see he tore anything else during the trip.

Hoseok sighed in relief. “You didn’t pop your stitches, thank God.” He looked up at the rest of the team, concern etched across his face. “We can’t move quickly. Namjoon is in no condition to.”

Jimin suddenly went through his pack and took out his map. His eyes flickered across the paper, and you could practically see the gears turning in his mind. “I marked where we left the Jeep. Right here.” He pointed at the spot where he made a small  X in pen. “Then we went northeast for a few kilometers, and then Yoongi and y/n’s tumble took us south east. Then the trip through the cave took us direct east.” He paused to mumble to himself so quietly that not even you could understand his gibberish. “If we take into mind the sudden elevation from the outcropping we went through, I’d estimate we are right... here.” He jabbed his finger down at a isolated area on the map, quite a few centimeters from where the Jeep was located. He groaned exasperatedly yet quietly, as if upset with the discovery. “Shit, that’s fifteen kilometers.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your sockets. He had to be joking, right? “Fifteen kilometers?” you repeated in astonishment. “That’ll take us a whole bloody day!”

“Actually, it’ll take us at least five hours to hike with the rocky conditions, possibly even more taking Namjoon’s health into account,” Jimin corrected, folding up his map. “If we start heading west, we should be right on track.”

You wiped your hand against your sweaty forehead, careless to the fact that you smeared some dirt on your skin. “I want to die,” you grumbled to yourself.

“I’m sure the soldiers would be happy to oblige,” Yoongi suddenly popped in. He appeared to be even more exhausted than you looked. Because of such, he had this permanent scowl on his face that warned everyone to not test him.

Once everyone rested up for a few moments, you all got up on your feet and started your trek once more. Your feet dragged heavily behind you as exhaustion settled on your shoulders. All of this excitement certainly did a number on you both mentally and physically. You wouldn’t be surprised if this experience left you traumatized.

Jungkook went through his pack and took out a few handguns. “Alright, who doesn’t have a gun?” he asked, looking up to see the number of hands in the air.

You noticed that only Hoseok and Namjoon were the only ones who claimed they didn’t have a gun, which left you rather perplexed. Jungkook gave you and Taehyung both a gun; so that meant that Jimin, Jin, and Yoongi already had guns in their possession. You supposed it made sense that the survivalist had a gun, but the mechanic and the millionaire? Your throat suddenly went dry remembering that Jin had threatened you back in the previous room. Things could’ve easily escalated from there. He could’ve shot you without so much as a second thought.

You then remembered the relationship between the two of you now. His paranoid meltdown left a thick air of tension between you and him. You didn’t know if you could confront him about this or demand why he didn’t trust you. After all, he brought you into this expedition in the first place. There must’ve been some form of trust before the incident.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Jungkook handed one of the handguns to Hoseok, who stared at him as if he just offered him, well, a weapon. “What?! But... I-I can’t take that! I’m a doctor! I’m supposed to help people, not kill them!” he protested, hugging his medical bag to his chest.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and released an annoyed scoff. “Geez, you sound just like y/n,” he remarked, shoving the gun into his chest, but still the doctor refused to take it.

“‘It’s not murder if it’s in self-defense’,” you repeated his words from earlier, although your tone sounded more childish.

He rolled his eyes once more before redirecting his attention back to Hoseok. “Just take the gun. Namjoon can’t carry a gun in his condition. So someone has to protect him,” he persuaded.

Hoseok stared at him for a few seconds, debating internally of what he should do, before he reluctantly took the gun from his hand. He held it anxiously as if it would go off at any second and then slowly tucking it in his belt loop.

Namjoon snorted in annoyance. “You don’t need to act like I’m crippled, Jungkook,” he lightly scolded. “I’m just... indisposed right now.”

 “Indisposed? I’ll say.”

Unlike your first trek of the day, this one brought a lot of anxiety and paranoia with it. You found yourself constantly looking over shoulder, thinking that you saw someone unfamiliar out of the corner of your eye only to discover it was merely a large plant or rock structure. What happened down in the caves had everyone on edge, which cast a thick air of tension around the group.

You hiked down a steep hill, holding tightly onto other people’s hands at Jimin’s instruction. He certainly didn’t want another repeat of Yoongi and you falling down. The hill developed into a pathway with a thick layer of plants reaching your waist. Tree branches hovered over you, providing shade and cover from searching eyes.

Suddenly, Yoongi stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulders with a bewildered look on his face. His eyebrows furrowed deeply. You also paused your walking and followed his eyes. “What’s wrong, Yoongi?” you asked, seeing nothing but vegetation as far as your sight could take you.

He didn’t answer at first. His face remained completely still as he took in the seeming silence. “Do you hear that?” he wondered out loud, flickering his questioning gaze to you.

Everyone stopped at this point, all looking with confusion and a faint hint of apprehension. The tension in the air almost crackled as everybody halted everything to listen to what Yoongi was hearing. You noticed that, if you listened hard enough, you heard a delicate sound of rumbling. “Yeah... I do...” Your voice trailed off as you looked at the others, noticing the looks of realization randomly appear on their faces when they also caught onto the low rumbling.

“Isn’t that just the wind?” Hoseok said uncertainly, although you could tell he knew it wasn’t the wind. The clamor unanticipatedly became louder and louder, as if the source was coming closer to the team.

Yoongi shook his head distractedly, his attention fully on the distant noise. “No, it sounds more... mechanical...” His eyes the shot wide open with realization, and he jerked his head back to everybody in a rush. “Hide!”

Everyone split in a random direction in a alarmed panic, scrambling to find anything to hide behind. You bolted for the nearby line of trees, leaves from the plants slapping at your knees and calves. You would have continued past the trees if not for the random hand that shot out and grabbed you by the wrist. You struggled against the clasped hold but was lurched toward whoever gripped you tightly. You continued to thrash and jerk yourself around in an attempt to free yourself, but immediately stopped when your eyes connected with two familiar eyes.

You sighed softly in relief. “Tae, give me a warning next time,” you scolded in annoyance.

Taehyung held you tightly to his chest with his arms wrapped around your torso. Whether or not he held you so close to comfort you or himself, you were unsure of. He swallowed a large lump lodged in his throat. “And alert everyone around? I think not.”

Your quirked an eyebrow at his response. “You know I could’ve found a spot on my own, right?” you reminded quietly.

“I don’t want to lose my lucky charm.” He grinned charmingly at you, to which you couldn’t resist the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Ignoring the feeling as best as you could, you scoffed, “Lucky charm? If anything, I’ve been a curse.”

“Awwww, give yourself more-“

You interrupted him by clamping a hand around his mouth. He let out a surprised muffle and furrowed his eyebrows as if he had been offended. You shushed him and averted your gaze to what caught your attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw an armored truck speed by, crushing all the plants underneath. You almost sagged your shoulders in relief when it past you, but, of course, you were indeed cursed and not lucky.

The armored vehicle skidded to a halt, which caused nearly all the air in your lungs to instantly disappear. You unconsciously removed your hand from his mouth and cranked your head ever-so-slightly to get a glimpse of what was going on. Men with rifles in their arms hopped out of the truck and slammed the car doors loudly, causing you to flinch in Taehyung’s arms.

“What’s happening?” he whispered softly, not daring to look around the tree.

You watched the armed men for a few moments before replying, “Some men with guns got out of a truck. I don’t know what they’re doing though.”

Taehyung subtly nodded. “With any luck, they’ll lose interest and leave.”

Your eyes followed every move the men made. They scoured with the barrel of their rifles through the leaves thoroughly, leaving nothing neglected. You were curious as to what they were looking for.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers barked something to who you assumed to be the leader. All of them then hurried over to join him and looked at what he discovered. The leader knelt down slowly and reached for the item in question. When he lifted it up for all to see, you felt your soul sink to the lowest depths of hell.

“My tapestry!”

 This time Taehyung shoved your face into his chest to muffle your soft cry. Although you would’ve frozen at the amount of contact you were having with his toned chest, you were in too much of a panic to really care.

“What?!” Taehyung hissed almost silently. You could tell he desperately wanted to turn his head to see, but he managed to control himself. “How? When? I thought it was in your bag!”

“It was! I had it right-“ You cut yourself off when you saw the open flap of your bag. It must’ve unclasped itself during the chaos. When you ran to hide, the tapestry must’ve somehow jolted out of your bag. You whipped your gaze back to him wildly. “We have to get it back!”

“I know! I know! Just-” He then sighed as if he were in pain, then regained his calm composure. “How many are there?”

You quickly counted the men without making a ruckus. “Twelve.”

“Shit, those aren’t good numbers, especially if they’re armed.”

The leader then shouted an order to the rest of the men, and they all began to spread out with their guns lifted. You muttered a curse under your breath. Great, things couldn’t possibly get any worse. “They’re looking for us now,” you notified, hiding your head behind the tree.

Taehyung paused for a few seconds, quickly thinking up of a good plan to deal with the situation. “Perhaps we can take them by surprise and knock down their numbers a bit?” he suggested, looking at you for approval.

You then moved your head to peer around the other side of the tree, trying to avoid the watchful gaze of the soldiers. You saw a bit of movement from behind a tree quite a few meters from where you stood. You squinted a tiny bit so you could perceive what it exactly was. You were fairly certain it was one of the other members, but who you couldn’t guess.

However, soon you noticed the familiar white tainted red armsling, and your heart lurched to your throat. A soldier’s was just a few paces from discovering Namjoon. “Shit, Tae, they’re close to find Namjoon!” you faintly exclaimed, gripping his shirt tightly in your fists.

“And he’s not armed... Damnit, he’ll be dead if we wait any longer.” After a few seconds of panicked silence, he then whipped his head to face you, determination blazing in his eyes. “Y/n, I need you to trust me and follow my lead.”

“What-?”

Before you could even finish your question, Taehyung roughly grabbed you and yanked you around the tree, revealing both of you for everyone to see. He aggressively wrapped an arm around your torso so that you were secure against his body. Then he pulled out a hand gun from his holster and pressed the cold, metal barrel against your temple almost violently. To say you were shocked was a deep understatement.

Taehyung bellowed out words that you couldn’t understand. You guessed it was Japanese, considering the soldiers seemed to understand him. Remembering that you needed to play your part, you began to scream and thrash yourself around, begging and crying for your ‘captor’ to release you. Man, if only Charlie Chapman could see you now. He would be impressed with your acting skills.

The Japanese soldier that was heading for Namjoon abandoned the area along with the eleven other soldiers to come point their guns at you. You almost sighed in relief that Namjoon was safe, but seeing how the soldiers ready to fire at you and Taehyung made you think that the opposite of what he hoped for was occurring.

Taehyung continued to shout and yell at the men, shoving the barrel even more roughly against your head. “Shut up, bitch!!!” he roared into your ear, causing you to cry and whimper in response. You quieted down and surrendered yourself to his whims, forgetting your resolve to fight against him. You even quivered your bottom lip for good measure.

The leader raised his hand toward his men who, in response, lowered their guns. He looked a lot older than you; in fact, he could be around your father’s age. The man took a few steps forward, and, in reaction, Taehyung took a few back, pressing the gun harder against your temple. The leader merely chuckled at Taehyung’s attempts and grinned broadly.

“Isn’t this young lady with your team?” he asked bemusedly, his accent coming in rather thickly.

Bollocks, you forgot about the spy for a minute there. How could you be so stupid? Of course the spy informed them of your involvement!

Taehyung frowned deeply, murder flaming in his eyes. If looks could kill, this man would’ve been ashes where he stood. You were almost intimidated by the gaze he gave him. “You really thought she was with us? An English woman?” He scoffed humorlessly. “She’s only a hostage for us. Something to protect ourselves with. You might say she’s... insurance for complicated situations.”

The leader nodded in understanding. “Ah... I see.” He nodded a few more times before continuing, “I have had reports from my men that a woman was seen attacking them at your side. How do you explain that?”

Taehyung grinned cheekily to match the man’s own. “Oh, you know how women are. You sleep with them for one night, and their hearts are yours to command.” The hand that gripped you tightly suddenly began to wander up slowly, cupping your breast fondly before giving it a playful squeeze.

No longer were your acting skills necessary, for the squeak that escaped your mouth was one hundred percent genuine. Your cheeks blazed with the heat from embarrassment. Damn him! You knew that you both were in a life-or-death situation, but the nerve he had to pull a trick like that without giving you so much as a warning in advance!

“Y-you disgusting pig!” you managed to get out before slamming your heel into his foot. If he was going to play dirty, then you weren’t going to sit idly by and let him get away with it.

Taehyung cried out in pain, which you were fairly certain was also very genuine, and instantly wrapped a hand around your throat after nearly doubling over in agony. “You little whore!” he growled in your ear. His voice sent shivers up your spine, but you instantly quelled the burning feeling before it could jeopardize the mission.

You noticed that behind the soldiers were the other members, save for Namjoon, sneaking quietly up to them with their handguns ready. You were proud to even see Hoseok ready to help out and abandon his fears. In order to keep everyone’s attention on you, you tried to lurch forward toward the leader with a pitiful gleam in your eyes. “Please, sir!” you begged, making your voice crack for dramatic effect. “You have to get me away from these... these... monsters!”

“Be quiet!” Taehyung yanked you back and tightened his grip around your throat, cutting off your windpipe. Now you were unsure if he was necessarily acting as well...

The leader chuckled once more at your feeble attempts of begging and returned his attention to Taehyung. “What makes you think I won’t just kill you now and take the girl for myself?” You almost vomited at his words. This man emitted creepiness and disgust.

Taehyung smiled innocently in reply. “Because I’m going to kill you first.” With that, he pulled the gun away from you and shot him right in the forehead.

The leader’s eyes rolled to the back of his head before he collapsed to the forest floor. Before the other soldiers could even react, the other boys were on them like a pack of wolves. Jungkook, Jimin, and Yoongi all headshot two people in a swift movement by the time you pulled your gun from you bag. You aimed directly at a man attempting to gun Jin down and shot him twice in the chest, killing him instantly. Hoseok and Jin both killed a soldier quickly, Hoseok staring at the dead man with wide eyes as if he couldn’t believe he just killed someone. Taehyung quickly shot the last man down, who cried out in ultimate agony, and shot him in the head to end his misery.

Everyone released a collective sigh that was trapped inside. It was over. No one was hurt in the struggle, excluding Taehyung’s throbbing foot. You scooped up your tapestry that was clutches tightly in a dead man’s fist, and grumbled, “Eugh, great, it’s got blood over it.”

“There wouldn’t be any blood on it if you made sure it was still in your bag,” Yoongi snapped bluntly, slipping his gun back into his holster.

You sighed dejectedly. He had a point. No one would’ve been killed if you kept the tapestry secure in your bag, even though the dead may have deserved their fates. “I know, I’m terribly sorry for making you all worry,” you apologized, fasting your gaze to the ground. “I’ll try to make sure I won’t repeat the same mistake.”

Jimin shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, we’re alive, and we’ve got the tapestry back thanks to our amazing actors!” He gestured to you and Taehyung with an adorable smile.

Taehyung bowed dramatically with a proud expression plastered on his face while you folded your arms irritably. “Speaking of which...” You snapped your head to face the demolition expert, your fists tightening into little balls from the anger that coursed through you. “What the bloody hell was that, Tae?! Groping my tits for no reason!”

Taehyung looked at you with wide eyes. “Oh, sorry, y/n! I got a bit carried away… I wanted to make it seem as real as possible.” Taehyung bowed deeply, “I apologize, y/n. I won’t do it again.” But before he rose, he tilted his head up, eyes meeting yours from beneath his bangs. “That is, unless you want me to.”

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes met Taehyung’s, intense and full of deeper meaning. Something resounded within you, like a strum of a guitar, and you could feel your face heating up. “J-Just don’t do it again!” You said with as much anger as you could muster in the moment. 

Taehyung dipped his head again before straightening up. He had a small smirk playing at his lips, and his eyes were dark with what you could only imagine was want. You couldn’t deal with this right now, what with the adrenaline still pumping through your veins, and so with all the willpower you could muster, you tore your eyes from Taehyung and turned back to the group.

Everyone was pretending not to have seen the exchange between the two of you, but when you met Jimin’s gaze, you saw the teasing glint in his eyes, and you had to hold back a frustrated groan from making its way past your lips. Lucky for you, that was when Namjoon decided to make his presence known again.

“Guys? Is it safe to come out now?” he called out, exhaustion painting his words. You took this opportunity to busy yourself, hoping that the exchange between you and Taehyung would be forgotten, and went to Namjoon.

You offered your uninjured hand to the historian once you finally reach him, to which he gladly took. “Good,” he remarked, his voice strained as he pulled himself up, careful to avoid moving his wounded shoulder. “I thought it got a little quiet there for a moment and feared the worst.”

You shook your head. “Nope! We just had a little quick discussion!” you lied with a bright smile.

Little quick discussion, my arse, you scowled mentally.

Namjoon seemed to buy your pitiful lie and nodded his head. He opened his mouth to add something but was interrupted when Jimin called out, “Guess what? We won’t have to hike anymore!” He dramatically gestured to the armored truck with a wide smile.

“Oh thank the Lord.” You weren’t sure if you could stand to hike another hour. “Is Jin driving again?” You noticed that Jin wasn’t wearing the same clothing as before. He now wore one of the dead soldier’s uniform, and, you must admit, he looked the part very well.

Jin didn’t answer but climbed into the driver’s seat regardless. You frowned at the fact he completely blew you off. Jimin, seeing how the millionaire was ignoring you, shrugged his shoulders. “I guess he is?”

Jin suddenly grumbled to himself irritably. “One of the guards has the keys.”

“No need for keys,” Yoongi disregarded and entered the vehicle by crawling under Jin’s long legs. He ripped off the knee blocker, causing bundles of wires to spill out. “It’d be nice if I had my wire cutters, but...” He pulled out a switchblade from his back pocket and went to work. He snipped wires and moved parts that he deemed worthless to the side. All the while he hummed a little tune to himself. Finally, he took two wires and lightly pressed them together, causing sparks to fly with an electrical zap. Suddenly, the vehicle roared to life, and Yoongi crawled back out with a smug, triumphant look on his face. “What can I say? Genius.”

You all climbed into the back of the armored truck, and you secured a spot directly next to Namjoon. He was the only one oblivious to what occurred minutes ago, and so you took that opportunity to avoid teasing from the other boys. As you sat next to him, Jungkook closed the flap to conceal everyone and shrouded you in darkness.

The truck took off without a hitch as Jin stepped on the gas pedal, impatient to get back to the Jeep where all the supplies were located. Luckily he avoided every tree that suddenly jumped out him. Wouldn’t that be just great for him to crash the vehicle you just killed for?

You looked at Jimin concernedly. “You don’t suppose the Japanese have found where we hid the Jeep, did they?” you questioned, not wanting to have to go through another shoot off.

He pondered the possibility for a few moments before answering, “I don’t think so. We hid it under a few trees and placed some branches over to cover it. The chances that the soldiers pass right by it in the middle of nowhere are pretty low.”

“Despite that,” Jungkook began, reloading his many weapons with new magazines, “we should be prepared for the worst to happen. I say we come up with a plan for if there are soldiers by the Jeep.”

“Okay, how many men should we expect?” you inquired. You then noticed a small can full of bullets and took out your colt from your bag. You opened up the cylinder and emptied the bullet shells before replacing them with new ones. “Do you think there’ll be twelve again?”

Yoongi shook his head in disagreement. “Probably not, their main focus is tracking us down. So they’ll be sending how as many men out here searching. I’d estimate at most seven guards,” he predicted, also reloading his handgun.

“You have to remember our fight just minutes ago,” Jungkook added, slipping a few guns back into his pack. “We made quite a bit of racket. So everyone is probably following the sounds of our gunfire. If anyone sees us driving away from the source, then they’ll get suspicious.”

Taehyung pinched the bridge of his scrunched nose, now realizing a mistake they made. “We all should’ve taken their uniforms. That would’ve made us less suspicious if we ran into others.”

Damn, he had a point. It seemed Jin was the only smart one out of the bunch, since he already changed into a uniform. You cupped your chin in thought, thinking of how to get everyone safely out of here without alerting every single soldier within a few kilometers. “We could do this stealthily,” you proposed, raising your gaze to meet everyone’s. “Exchange our guns for knives and take them out quietly.”

Everyone contemplated your suggestion for a few seconds before Jimin said, “It could work, but it’d have to be executed perfectly, since we would be at a major disadvantage. One little slip up and we all could be done for.”

“I have an idea,” Namjoon perked up, snapping his fingers like a genius would. “We can quickly knock down their numbers if Jin tells one of the men that he has us already dead in the back of the vehicle. The guards will most likely believe us since they’ve probably heard our gunfire and know that there was a fight. They’ll have their guard down when they come to check us, and that’s when we strike.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jungkook agreed while everyone nodded before tapping on the window to gain Jin’s attention. “Hey, hyung, did you hear that?”

Jin craned his head back slightly so he could hear the youngest better. “Hear what?” he replied, shouting over the loud sound of the engine.

“If there are any guards surrounding our vehicle, you’re gonna tell them that your unit killed us and our bodies are in the back!” he explained, then quickly added, “Then we’ll take them out when they open the flap quietly!” He paused for a mere moment to take out a knife from his pack and offer it through the window. “You need one?”

Jin looked at the rear view window to see the knife and shook his head. “No, I already have one!” Damn, he had both a gun and a knife on him, and he didn’t kill you down in the caves? Man, you’re extremely lucky.

 Jungkook returned his focus back to the rest of the team and held up the weapon. “Who needs a knife?”

“Does a bone saw work the same?” Hoseok asked innocently as he pulled out a medium sized bone saw from his medical bag.

Everyone’s eyes widened at the fact that Hoseok remained so innocent despite holding something so deadly like a child’s toy. “Why the bloody hell do you have a bone saw?!” you cried, your mouth agape.

The doctor smiled at you angelically but yet almost sarcastically. “To cut oranges, of course!” An annoyed frown instantly replaced his pure smile. “Why else would I have a bone saw?!”

Jungkook interrupted the conversation by quickly commenting, “I think that’s a bit overkill. Here, Hoseok, just take the knife.” He shoved the handle toward the doctor’s chest, to which he took without any hesitation. “Anyone else?” He offered another knife to Yoongi sitting next to him.

The mechanic lazily shook his head. “No thanks, I already have a few on me.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up. “A few?! Why do you have so many?”

Yoongi stared at the youngest for a few moments before the corners of his lips curled into a casual smirk. “Would you believe me if I said I really like playing the knife game?”

Jungkook refused to respond, unsure and slightly scared of what to reply to a question like that, and continued to dish out knives to anyone who needed them. You remembered you had a Swiss Army knife in your possession and so declined the offer. When you started this trip, you assumed you would be using the knife to cut rope or open boxes, not stabbing people in hopes of killing them. Man, life certainly had a lot of surprises in store for you.

The rest of the drive was filled with utter silence as everyone braced for what might occur. You prayed to anyone who was listening that no one found the hidden vehicle and you could just get away from all this madness. If you went back in time and told your past self that you would be fighting for your life like some mafia member, you would’ve thought your future self had gone completely insane.

“I see our Jeep,” Jin suddenly announced, snapping you from your tired thoughts. “It looks like they found it unfortunately. I think I see five men guarding it.”

Dread washed over your entire being as your shoulder sagged heavily. Nothing could just go your way for once it seemed. You truly were cursed.

Jungkook nodded toward everyone, giving a knowing but yet disappointed stare. “Alright everyone, just follow the plan. We have the advantage of numbers. This will be easy.”

“Please don’t jinx it,” Namjoon begged. “We don’t need someone else getting shot.” He gestured to his own bullet wound.

You felt the truck slow down as you approached the patrol. You clutched your weapon tightly as if you could accidentally drop it at any time. The vehicle finally halted, and you heard loud voices holler at Jin. The millionaire replied to them calmly despite the anxious tension. Huh, you guessed he really was a good actor.

One of the soldiers barked at him harshly, as if he reprimanded him for making a mistake. Jin defended himself with just as much passion, his tone almost sounding whiny. Footsteps could be heard dragging and clunking against the sandy ground, and everyone’s eyes reactively followed the sound as it moved around the vehicle. You noticed out of the corner of your eye Jin hopping out of the driver’s seat, his sleeve concealing the knife he gripped in his hand.

Taehyung and Jungkook slowly edged themselves closer to the  exit as quietly as they could, ready to pounce on the soldiers when the flap flew open. The footsteps stopped at the back of the vehicle, and everyone inhaled sharply in anticipation. Through the cloth flap you saw the outline of the two soldiers standing outside the truck. Blood roared in your ears despite it being deadly silent. You dared not to move a single muscle for fear of jeopardizing your cover. This was like the deafening calmness before the raging storm.

Suddenly, the flap opened, and chaos ensued. It wasn’t like the mad chaos like before though, you noticed. This time, it was a like an organized chaos. Taehyung and Jungkook flew from their seats and nearly tackled the men to the ground. Jungkook swiftly sliced his blade over the man’s unprotected throat while Taehyung stabbed the other in his jugular. One gurgled as blood poured from his neck like a scarlet waterfall while the other released a shuttered gasp before slipping into his eternal slumber.

Jimin and Yoongi rushed out of the back and swooped around to meet the other two guards who sensed that something was amiss. Before the soldiers could even raise their guns, they were tackled to the ground and killed in an instant. It almost scared you at how proficient they were at killing, and a tiny voice at the back of your mind told you that this wasn’t the first time they’ve done this before.

You remained in the back of the vehicle with Namjoon, thinking that it was probably for the best that you stayed with the historian. That way you could protect him if one of the guards slipped by to see if anyone else was in the truck. Hoseok exited in case something got injured during the struggle, but you figured that wasn’t going to be an issue.

Your mind snapped from its thoughts by the loud crash you heard. You realized it came from in front of the truck as peered through the window to see if anything was wrong. Your eyes widened slightly as you saw Jin push a guard down onto the hood of the car and plunge his knife deep into his neck. Blood sprayed onto the hood in tiny droplets.

“I never knew Jin knew how to fight,” you commented, finding yourself staring at the gruesome image before you. A large lump  formed in your throat, and you found it to be rather difficult to swallow down. “He always appeared to be a gentleman.”

Namjoon chuckled almost humorlessly. “Well, he certainly is no Jungkook, that’s for sure, but he definitely knows how to defend himself,” he responded, smiling as if reminiscing a fond memory.

“But isn’t he a businessman?” you inquired, finally tearing your gaze away to look at the historian. “He sells... wristwatches, right?”

He nodded in agreement. “Yep, took up the family company after his father passed away,” he revealed, then added, “Being a CEO of a company guarantees a lot of enemies. Jin always told me the industry was rather cutthroat.” He chuckled once more, and you realized that the exaggerated joke was, in fact, quite literal.

Interrupting your conversation, the flap flew open once more to reveal Jimin’s smiling face. It slightly concerned you that he was grinning after he murdered someone, but you brushed the thought away. He was probably glad that no one was injured during the conflict. “It’s safe to come out now!” he announced, causing you to sign in relief. “Come on! Let’s get out of here. We don’t want to hang around for a second longer.”

You helped Namjoon step out of the back and onto the forested floor and saw the boys taking down the branches and leaves used to conceal the Jeep. You almost cried tears of happiness thinking how close you were to being safe. The tension and anxiety that coursed through you for so long nearly gave you a cardiac arrest on multiple occasions.

As you rushed over to the Jeep, you tried your best not to look down at the corpses that littered the floor. You didn’t know if your stomach could handle seeing such a disturbing sight. Previously, the only time you experienced the death of others was when the grandmother you grew so fond of passed away with you at her side. You were only a child then, but you cried for days and days. However, your grandmother died peacefully. These men were brutally killed like dogs. You’ve never experienced death in such high amounts.

You climbed into your seat quickly, eager to get out of this godforsaken forest. You sat in the middle once more with Jimin on your right. You hoped Namjoon would sit next to you again, but that hope instantly disappeared when Taehyung hopped in next to you.

Oh no...

When the demolition expert saw you next to him, he gave you a wide grin and inched himself even closer to you. “Well hello again~” he greeted cheekily as you quickly averted your gaze.

Jimin chuckled seeing your anxious state. “Be careful, Tae,” he warned teasingly. “Y/n here might implode if you keep going.”

“That’s fine. She’s always more fun like this.”

“Can we please not do this here?” you fretted, tucking back strands of your hair anxiously. “There’s people trying to kill us, and now you think it’s a good time to start...” You threw your hands in the air frustratedly as you couldn’t find the proper word to describe this. “Whatever the bloody hell this is!”

They both shrugged indifferently. “Fine, we’ll do this when there aren’t any distractions.” Jimin gave you a flirtatious wink before turning his attention away from you.

When everyone else finally climbed into the Jeep, Jin didn’t hesitate to floor it out of there, causing nearly everybody to fly out of their seats with a shriek. Wind whipped past you as sand kicked up and pelted your face. You sputtered a few times, wiping your mouths clean of any dirt. Jin certainly wasn’t going to go easy.

As trees and plants flew by, your hands unconsciously rested on the camera hanging around your neck. You hoped that during the violent madness that you underwent that it didn’t break, or, even worse, rip the film inside. The film was absolutely vital, the most crucial part of your job. If the film was damaged in some way, then... You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts. You didn’t know why you were so worried. If it ripped, it ripped. It wouldn’t have if you weren’t ambushed.

Your eyes crept toward where Namjoon laid in the back as Hoseok tended to his injury. His face scrunched up a tiny bit as the doctor cleaned the wound once more, wiping away dried blood that stuck to his skin like paint. You knew that there was nothing you could do that would lessen his pain, but that didn’t help the sharp feeling that you didn’t do enough go away. You really wished that you could rewind time and somehow prevent him from getting shot, but time was cruel in that regard. Your decisions and choices were set in stone as soon as you made them.

Your body suddenly jerked to the side as Jin made a sharp turn at the last second. Jimin almost fell off from the movement of not for his quick reflexes. You opened your mouth to scold the driver but quickly shut it when you realized why he did so. Another armor truck flew out of the trees from nowhere and would’ve crashed into your had Jin continued in that direction. You saw the other driver’s eyes lit up with recognition as the team sped by and swerved to give chase after you.

“We’ve got company!” Jin announced panickedly as he slammed the gas pedal down, causing the Jeep to lurched forward.

“Fucking shit!” Yoongi cursed, watching the truck in pursuit. His hands immediately reached for his gun and pointed it at the driver. “Can we never get a break?!”

Jungkook, from the passenger’s seat, took out his Thompson sub machine gun and swung off the side of the vehicle, half of his body careening over the forest. He kept one hand firmly around Jeep to stabilize him while the other shot bullets at the pursuing truck. You saw some of his bullets landed, marking cracked holes in the windshield but, other than that, nothing calamitous.

He spun himself around back into his seat when he saw another man peering out of a window with a rifle of his own, bullets zooming past you and making dents into the vehicle. “Why the hell did you rent a Jeep, hyung?!” Jungkook cried, shooting daggers at the driver. “We’re sitting ducks here!”

Jin’s mouth fell agape offendedly, his eyes blown wide as if Jungkook just shouted every curse word he could think of. “How was I supposed to know people would end up trying to kill us?!”

You instantly pulled out your colt ready to fire but then realized how useless your attempts might be. You didn’t know how good your aim was considering you’ve never used a gun until hours prior. Your shots might not even hit the truck, much less any of the men.

The truck suddenly floored it until it was side by side with you. At first, your feared they were trying to ram you off the road but then saw one of the doors open and a man jump out onto your car. The man landed practically on top of Taehyung, knife pulled out to give him a fatal wound. Your instincts took over you once more, and you aimed the colt right at the man’s head. However, before you could even pull the trigger, a rush of movement flashed in front of your eyes. Before you had time to process it, you saw the image of Hoseok burying his bone saw deep into his neck. The man screamed out in pain as blood sprayed out in tiny droplets, some of it landing of Taehyung’s face.

Hoseok then ripped out the rigid blade with a grunt, taking bits and pieces of bloody flesh with it. Your stomached churned nauseously as you took in the sight of the gaping hole in his neck. It looked like a tree in the process of being chopped down. Only this time, it wasn’t wood but strips of mutilated flesh with a waterfall of blood pouring from it. The doctor then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him of the vehicle into the dirt road for him to bleed out.

You’ve never seen Hoseok like this. Usually he was constantly smiling, but now his eyes were ice cold with determination freezing them over. His lips formed a disgusted frown as he wiped the blood off his face. You would hate to be on the receiving end of his chilling glare.

“Hoseok! I said the bone saw was overkill! Why didn’t you use a knife?!” Jungkook shouted after firing a rain of bullets at the truck. Jin swerved the vehicle quickly to avoid getting rammed by the armored truck.

The deadly expression on Hoseok’s face disappeared in a flash, as if Jungkook snapped him from a daze. “What if I missed?! I have better precision with the bone saw!” he argued, lifting up the weapon covered with blood and flesh.

“How can you miss with a knife?!” Taehyung demanded, wiping his face clean of scarlet.  

“I don’t know! I just panicked!”

For some reason, and you don’t know why, as if all reason and logic was just thrown out the window without a second thought, and you brought out your colt once more and shot a few times at the passenger window. It blew open and the man inside aimed his rifle directly at you. You fired once more and managed to gun him down before he could make a shot.

“Tae! Grenade!”

Taehyung’s confused eyes connected with yours for a few moments before looking back at the armored truck. He saw the broken window and instantly caught onto what you were insinuating. Giving you a quick, mischievous grin, he took out a grenade from his pack and pulled the pin effortlessly before tossing it casually through the passenger’s shattered window. The driver glanced at what was thrown at his side for a few moments before panic took a hold of him as he scrambled to grab the explosive, causing the truck to swerve and slide all over the place.

“Jin!” Jimin yelled frantically, seeing Taehyung toss the grenade. “Get us out of here!!!”

Instead of jerking the vehicle down another path like you expected, Jin slammed his foot down on the breaks. The breaks squealed and ground against each other as the Jeep lurched to a skidded halt, causing nearly everyone to go flying forward with a screech. The wheels kicked up dirt and rock right into your face once more, almost blinding and choking you. The millionaire then quickly shifted the gear into reverse and stepped on the gas pedal, gaining as much distance from the truck.

The armored truck continued flying past you for a few good meters before the grenade finally detonated. A wave of heat bombarded your skin, and you could’ve sworn it singed the hair right off your arms. Your hair flew back as if a gust of wind caught it in its path for a few seconds. Sparks exploded in the air as streaks of fiery red, orange, and white painted the view in front of you. Certainly no one survived that explosion.

Taehyung next you sighed dreamily, his eyes softening lovingly at the image in front of him. You saw the light reflect off of his dark eyes like fireworks in the night sky. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he wondered out loud to no one in particular. “The bright, vibrant colors, the musical sound of it discharging, the feeling of the shock waves coursing through you...” He rested his chin on his hand as he watched the colors slowly fade away. “That’s art.”

Yoongi stared at him for a few moments. His face completely morphed into disgust and confusion. His eyes then flickered off to the side, as if thinking to himself if what he just saw was real and not a figment of his imagination. “Everyone is so fucking weird,” he muttered sharply to himself. “Jimin gets off on being in dangerous situations, Hoseok loves killing with this bone saw, Jin thinks everyone is out to get him, and now Taehyung gets high on watching explosions... Great... What’s next? Namjoon is secretly a masochist?”

Namjoon groaned as he sat up for the first time since the car chase, resting his hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he informed Yoongi, wincing for a mere moment. “But seriously, Tae, can you stop it with the explosions?! Now everyone in the area knows we’re here!”

“Don’t look at me!” Taehyung protested after getting ripped from his euphoria. “It was y/n’s idea!”

“Don’t throw me under the bloody bus!” you retorted, furrowing your eyebrows. “You didn’t have to go along with my plan!”

“Well, it was certainly better than waiting around to get shot at!”

“Guys, everyone, shut up!” Jimin interrupted the argument, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. He then sighed tiredly, his should visibly sagging as if a heavy weight was thrown upon them. “We need to get out here right now. Namjoon is right. That explosion alerted everyone around that something isn’t right. So we need to get to a safe area as soon as possible.”

Jin shifted the gears once more, a groaning sound emitting from the vehicle. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” he mumbled, pressing on the pedal.

The Jeep smoothly drove out of the forest past the flaming truck. The nauseating stench of burning flesh hit your nose like a truck, no pun intended. Your hand instantly shot up to hover over your nose as your stomach churned queasily once more. Any second longer in that area and you were sure you would’ve vomited.

As the car made it way out of the forest, you began to reflect on everything the occurred in the last few hours. The Japanese government were now searching for you; they knew your face now. You were a wanted criminal in their eyes. You could possibly be in their national newspapers tomorrow, listing you and the others as the nation’s number one enemy. This didn’t bode well with you, the thought of people chasing after you. It must’ve shown on your face because Jimin subtly took your hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Your brought your worried gaze to meet his eyes. His lips curled into a soft smile, as if silently telling you that everything would be fine.

You knew it wouldn’t be, but you held onto that false hope with a tight grasp.

—————————————

Luckily for the team, you managed to get out of the wilderness without anymore violent interruptions. During the entire drive, everyone was on the edge, waiting for another vehicle to appear out of nowhere and attempt to drive them off the road. A few times your heart lurched to your throat whenever you saw a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye. However, your nerves calmed, and you mentally chastised yourself when seeing that it was only an animal or the wind brushing against the leaves of plants.

The golden sun sunk low in the horizon when Jin drove through Darjeeling, painting the sky with soft hues of pink, purple, orange, and yellow. Taking in the beautiful sky helped relax your anxiety. Lord knows how close you were to cracking.

The team discussed that it probably wasn’t safe to stay in Darjeeling for the night, considering that the Japanese soldiers were still nearby. You agreed wholeheartedly with the others that the group should move to another city where you could easily hide in. After everyone agreed to leave Darjeeling, Jin drove the Jeep for another few hours to another city. What was its name? You couldn’t recall it no matter how many times Namjoon repeated it. You remembered it sounded rather long and complicated.

When you entered the city, you couldn’t get over how modern everything appeared. Why, it looked just like a city back in England! A bout of homesickness and longing washed over you as you thought of your home country. It’s been about a month since you first left London to report on the Indian independence movement and then a few weeks since you were hired into the expedition.

As you longed for England, you began to wonder what it was like for the boys. They’re also away from their homeland, but could they really call it ‘home’? How could it be home if it was overrun by a whole different country? Not to mention, a country with a government full of imperialists, it seemed. From what you’ve heard, their home country is being ripped of their national identity.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Jin pulled up in front of what appeared to be the nicest and wealthiest hotel you have ever lain your eyes upon. Its sleek and smooth appearance reminded you of the Ritz back in London. You’ve never stepped inside the Ritz; but from what you’ve heard from your wealthy colleagues, it’s definitely one of the best.

As you stepped inside the lobby with your luggage full of supplies, you first noticed the plush red and gold carpet that matched with the rest of the interior followed by the soft tune of jazz playing. One night here would certainly cost you your entire year’s wage. You wheeled you luggage past Jin, who was in the middle of paying and asking the attendant behind the counter if the group could be listed as anonymous, and handed it to one of the nearby porters.

Yoongi suddenly appeared at your side, also handing his luggage to the same porter. “Jin is apparently getting all of us the suite,” he mentioned, quirking an eyebrow in amusement.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your sockets upon hearing those words as your lips slightly parted. “The suite?” you repeated, your voice coming out in an astonished gasp. Jin certainly didn’t care about the expenses.

Yoongi nodded. “Yeah, we’ll be getting our own rooms.” He sighed wistfully. “As soon as I get to my room, I’m hitting the sheets. This day has completely wiped me of my energy.”

You couldn’t help but nod your head in agreement. Exhaustion weighed you down as if a large boulder was roped to your back. “You and me both, chap,” you replied, releasing a tired sigh from your lips.

The mechanic suddenly chuckled, as if a joke appeared in his mind out of nowhere. “I suggest getting to your room as soon as possible. Taehyung has his eyes set on you tonight,” he advised, a cheeky smirk curling his lips.

You whipped your head toward the demolition expert in question. You saw him handing his luggage off to a nearby porter before his eyes connected with yours. His eyes narrowed mischievously as a playful smile tugged the corners of his mouth. As you felt your cheeks heat up, you jerked your head back toward Yoongi. “I’m surprised you aren’t trying to win me over by inviting me to your room to hide or something like that,” you muttered quietly to him.

“As much as I like the idea of that,” Yoongi began, tilting his head lazily with a grin, “sleep is more important tonight. I’m sure you understand.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line as everyone joined you two. Jin came by with the room keys in hand, giving each their respective key. He gave you yours without so much as a glance, causing your pressed lips to tighten further. You remembered he hasn’t even given you an apology for what went down in the caves. Who did he think he was?

As you crammed yourself in the golden elevator with the others, Hoseok piped up, “Oh! Before everyone goes to bed, I should check each of you over to make sure everybody is in top condition, especially Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, and y/n. You guys have been hit the hardest out of us.”

Your eyes lit up hearing his words. Perfect! This was the best opportunity to avoid Taehyung! You could just have Hoseok check you over first and hopefully give you a reason to turn in early.

“I’ll go first!” you exclaimed, trying your best to mask your excitement but failing. You knew that Namjoon should go first, considering that he was in the worst condition, but you needed this. When everyone gave you questioning looks, you quickly added, “I think the kickback in the gun did something to my arm. It hurts like bugger.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. Your injuried arm still slightly throbbed.

Hoseok cocked his head in thought, pondering over your description. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious, but I’ll check nonetheless to make sure that you don’t have something worse.”

When the doors opened you to your floor, you instantly grabbed Hoseok’s hand and pulled him out of the elevator, looking like a mother dragging her child behind. The doctor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he glanced back to the other boys, receiving confused stares and shrugs in reply. You dragged Hoseok into your room, not bothering to take in the beauty, and took him over to a nearby couch. You quickly shut the door and hopped onto the couch, jutting out your injured arm to him.

Hoseok arched an eyebrow, perplexed by your restless attitude. “Someone’s eager,” he commented before clicking open his medical bag. He rummaged through it until he took out his roll of clean, white bandages.

You noticed that the bandage wrapped around your arm had dirt and grime covering every inch of it, giving it a dirty tan color.  You supposed scouring through the forest was going to result in you getting filthy. Hoseok took out the clip holding your bandage together and unraveled it, revealing pink and tender skin. You noticed the sticky shine your skin gave off, most likely due to the slave the doctor put on it. Around the cut, you saw spots of purple and blue painting your arm. You bit your lip at the sight; it certainly didn’t look good.

Hoseok examined the wound for a few seconds before pressing a few fingers against the skin next to your cut, applying a bit of pressure. “Does this hurt?”

“A bit.”

His fingers followed the bruises until they landed around the inside of your elbow, where you noticed how the bruises turned into black, blue, purple, and spots of brown. It certainly appeared to look painful. His fingers urged your elbow to bend slowly. “Tell me if the pain gets to be unbearable.”

You waited for a few moments, only feeling a dull ache stretch in your elbow. Suddenly, sharp pain exploded along with a popping feeling when your arm was nearly folded. You groaned loudly and visibly winced, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t realize just how injured you were.

Hoseok instantly pulled your arm back, the pain instantly ebbing away. “Torn ligaments in your elbow,” he diagnosed, then gave you a smile. “Basically, you sprained your elbow. The kickback must’ve irritated the torn ligaments. Hopefully, that didn’t worsen the injury.” Then he went through his bag once more and pulled out a small, brown, glass bottle. You realized it was another slave, although you didn’t catch the name. He applied the new slave to the puffy cut along your arm as he continued, “You need to rest for your elbow for next four weeks. Don’t put your arm through any more strenuous activities until I say you can. You’ll also need to ice your elbow for the next four day for about anywhere from ten to twenty minutes. I’ll give you some painkillers to deal with the pain for a little while.” He stopped spreading the salve and began re-wrapping your arm with the clean bandages. “As for your cut, you’ll only need to keep it bandaged for at most two weeks. Hopefully it’ll heal by then.”

When he finished wrapping and clipped it together, you gave him a grateful smile followed by a short laugh. “Thanks, Hobi,” you said as you examined your arm for a few seconds. “You’re seriously a miracle worker.”

You smiled as he wrapped your arm, “Thanks, Hobi. You’re seriously a miracle worker.” Hobi grinned as he wrapped, never taking his eyes off your arm. As he neared your wrist, however, he paused before leaning down and kissing the inch of skin still bare. 

Your breath hitched in your chest as you felt his warm lips on your skin. Hoseok’s eyes met yours as he looked up, his lips finally leaving your skin before he finished wrapping your arm. “Everything heals faster with a kiss you know. It’s been proven.” 

You felt your heat crawling up your neck as your gaze never left Hoseok’s. “I-I guess you would know. You are a doctor after all.”

“That I am,” he replied, still holding your arm. “Now,” he continued. “Let’s talk about why I’m really here.”

You froze, his words finally taking root in your head. Did he think that your eagerness to get him to your room was an invitation? You could see why he might come to that conclusion, but he couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“Pardon? What do you mean-” Hoseok cut you off as he leaned in close. “I know I’m here right now because you’re avoiding Taehyung. And after that little scene in the jungle I don’t blame you.” He moved so one arm was on either side of you, effectively trapping you. 

“How…?” You choked out, completely caught off guard by his accurate guess.

“I may not be the smartest member of the team, but anyone can see that you’ve been avoiding him ever since he riled you up.” He teased.

You were taken aback. “He didn’t rile me up…” you argued, but even you could tell it wasn’t convincing. Hoseok simply chuckled, his voice low and warm. Richer than you were used to, and it sent shivers down your spine.

“Then would you mind if I riled you up?” Hoseok leaned in further, his lips a breath away from yours. His eyes found yours, and you could see the desire reflected in those dark pools. 

Your brain struggled to keep up with what was happening. It screamed at you to put a stop to this, that it was unprofessional and would just lead to complications down the road, but your body had other ideas, and the sigh that escaped your lips seemed to tell Hoseok all he needed to know.

He caught your lips with his, his hand coming up to cradle your face. He wasted no time, quickly nipping at your lower lip, asking for entrance, which you readily gave him. He deepened the kiss, leaning further into you and resting his knee between your legs. You had to stop yourself from rolling your hips forward as your body cried for more.

Eventually the kiss was broken, both of you needing air. Hoseok leaned back, his chest heaving as he unbuttoned his shirt. “You taste like heaven, y/n.” He cooed, a smirk playing at his lips.

Your brain finally caught up with you as you leaned back against the couch, you skin hot against the cool wood of the frame. “Should we be doing this? You have the others to check up on. They must be wondering-” 

Hoseok cut you off as his hand gripped your hip, the other traveling up your side before pulling the collar of your shirt open, leaving your collarbones exposed to the air. “I’m not done treating you, though. I can imagine how much pain that arm is causing you, and you deserve only the best painkiller…” His eyes, hooded and dark, met yours before his head dipped to your neck, his lips working to make sure no patch of skin was left unadministered to. He left a trail down your neck to your chest, tongue darting out to lap at the sweat glistening your skin. 

You bit down on a moan, your body responding to his with eagerness. Your hands moved to his back of their own accord, sneaking under his shirt to roam over the lean muscles there. Hoseok leaned away, licking his lips as he gently grabbed your arms and pulled them away. 

“What did I say, y/n? You need to rest your arm.” He trailed kisses from your hand all along your injured arm. The gentleness with which he treated you made you want to melt on the spot, but his next words had heat pooling in your very core.

“Don’t make me punish you for being a naughty patient.”

His eyes were dark with hunger as they gazed up at you from where he had been kissing your wound. You felt his fingers trailing up your inner thigh, and even though your mind was screaming that this was a bad idea, your body wished he would hurry up already.

He seemed to see your thoughts reflected in your face as he quickly knelt back on the floor before gripping your leg with one hand and lowering his lips to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You threw your head back, a moan escaping your lips this time. You could feel Hoseok chuckle against your skin as he moved further up, but before he could do much else, the rap of knuckles on your door left you both frozen in place.

Hoseok snapped up toward your door, glaring daggers at it. You could tell he absolutely hated being interrupted, but he closed his eyes and calmed himself down before yelling, “I’m in the middle of a checkup!”

“This is important.” You recognized that voice to belong to Jin. Oh no, what did he want now?

Hoseok groaned, eyes rolling in frustration. “Can it wait until after I’m done?” he asked, trying to mask the irritation in his voice. You had to admit, seeing the doctor so ticked off turned you on a bit. You mentally slapped yourself for having such thoughts. No! Now was not the time!

“No, I need to see y/n... now.”

Hoseok turned his gaze back to you, anger still flaring in his eyes. You held his gaze for a few moments before he sighed defeatedly, pulling himself off of you. “Just a moment! I’m almost done bandaging her!” He grabbed his shirt and threw it on before buttoning it up again.

You sat up on the couch and embarrassingly buttoned up your own shirt, reflecting on the what happened moments ago. You didn’t serious just...? You bit the inside of your cheek, your fingers fumbling to get the buttons through the hole. You didn’t know why you were so flustered. You hadn’t done anything with him. However, that sheepish feeling still remained.

After Hoseok straightened himself out, he fixed your appearance so you didn’t appear so disbelief and obviously in the midst of sensual acts. “I guess I’ll have to give your painkillers later, unfortunately,” he pouted before releasing an exaggerated sigh. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t finish up your checkup.” A ghost of a smirk passed over his lips.

You cleared your throat awkwardly and replied, “I... um... it’s fine... we’ll just...”

Hoseok chuckled seeing your adorable face heat up. He pecked your lips, catching you off guard, and grabbed his medical bag at the foot of your couch. He made his way over to the door and swung it open, revealing an impatient Jin on the other side. “We’ll finish up your checkup later, y/n.” He gave you a knowing wink hidden from Jin before scowling at him. “Please don’t interrupt my business next time.” He then left you alone with the millionaire.

You fidgeted in your spot, still flustered by the your session with Hoseok moments before. You fiddled with the cuffs of your sleeves sheepishly, unsure of what to say to him. He had been ignoring you all day and now suddenly he needs to talk to you? You had to admit, a small flame of irritation flared up within you, but you ignored the angering sensation.

“So,” you began, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, “you wanted something?”

“Yes.” Jin stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind him, his dark eyes never leaving you. You gulped nervously, hoping that this wouldn’t end up with you getting another visit from the doctor, this time concerning your beaten up state. His eyes were narrowed into a serious stare, causing sweat to build up on your back worriedly.

“And that is?”

His fingers rested on the smooth brass of the doorknob for a few moments. “We need to talk.”

His hand reached down and locked the door with a click.

[loljacobseedbae2013]

The End of All Things

Jacob Seed x Deputy

A bead of sweat rolled off the tip of your nose. Your breathing was labored, thanks to the air being so thin due to the altitude. You had been climbing for what seemed like hours, searching, avoiding, hunting. It seemed like a game at first, but then the understanding of the direness of the situation came crashing down on you. This was no longer a test. Your heart ached, knowing how this would end. Knowing that by the time you reach the crest of the mountain, your worst nightmare would finally come true. For months you had fought your way through the fear and the weakness that was this moment in your head. You just didn’t think it would come so soon.

The men scaling down the mountain in search of you, had no idea of the mental distress this whole ordeal had been. From the moment you stepped into that helicopter your life was sent into a tailspin of horror and pain. But as you think of the last few months, knowing that not all moments were lost to the darkness, that ache strikes hard and raw in your chest. You brace yourself against an out jutting stone shelf in front of you, hoping to gain some of the air back into your lungs. You’re filled with a warm sensation, traveling from the nape of your neck down to the deepest parts of your insides. You see flashes of light blue eyes, slightly wrinkled, and soft red hair. You hear hearty laughter and smell the soft scents of salt and fresh teak wood. The sound of a distant fireplace roaring plays out in your memory. A gentle sting in the tip of your nose causes your vision to go blurry with threatening tears. It’s all moving too fast. “Don’t get in your head, pup.” Your radio crackles to life. “Finish what your people started.” His voice seemed so calm, though it usually did when it came to situations like this. He was always cool and collected when he conducted business. He acted like the act that was about to transpire was one that had little to no meaning for him. Which of course you knew was not true. He had been dreading this moment just as much as you, if not more. It was the end of all things. The end of peace, of hope, of safety. It was the final pillar to bring down the whole operation. A part of you had always known this was how it was to be played out, but this new part of you, this stronger part of you screamed at the idea of tearing down this last puzzle piece. And you knew it was because you loved this final nail in the coffin. You loved the last of Joseph’s Heralds; the hard and broken man that was Jacob Seed. You continued to climb once Jacob’s guards had all filled far below your location. You and Jacob were the only two left on the peak of this mountain. Your head spun with simple memories of your time with the soldier. The nights of not talking, just sitting in each other’s presence, being content to just listen to one another breathing. The feeling of his arms grasping your shoulders from behind as you tried to fight your demons in your sleep. The serenity of swaying back and forth to the slow music he loved to play, his hands securely pressed into your back. Things that you were going to miss painfully and dearly. You pushed yourself up onto the final ledge, a fallen tree was all that kept the two of you apart. Jacob sat on a rock, staring out over the Whitetail mountains. He had his rifle in his lap, his hands lax around the body. His body language wasn’t defensive, and you knew he had accepted the fate of your encounter. He slightly turned his head, so that you were in his peripheral line of sight. His chest caught for a second. You made your way to the rock, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, his hand, anything; just so you could feel his warmth against the cool mountain air. “Jacob,” You began. He cut you off. “This is how this is going to work. You’re going to kill me. You’re gonna take your rifle or whatever you’d like, and you’re going to end this.” Dammit. Straight to the point. You hated how cold and succinct he was. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You wanted him to look at you, to make yourself hate him like you used to, that way it would be easier. But nothing with Jacob was ever easy. “Why?” you breathed, your voice failing you. He knew what the question meant. Why did you have to come to Hope County? Why did you have to have to kill him? Why did you have to fall in love with him? You saw his eyes close and his brows furl together, you even want to say that you saw his lip quiver, but you couldn’t be sure. He sighed and stood. “Because. This is your final test. And I know I trained you to be strong and to follow through. So do it. Kill me.” While he spoke he had turned and faced you. He was standing close, towering over you. He lifted the shotgun in your hand to the center of his chest. “Pull the trigger, pup. Please.” He looked tired. Like he had lived a long and hard life, which he had. As his eyes bored into your weepy ones, his glare was sorrowful and soft. He knew what this would do to you. “Jacob, no.” You sobbed. He pushed the barrel of the gun harder into his chest, closing his eyes, bracing for the impact. You moved your finger to the trigger, readying yourself as well. “It’s alright, love, I’m ready.” He only ever called you ‘love’ in the darkest of hours, when limbs were tangled in bedsheets. Your sobs became more racked with pain upon hearing the sentiment. And with a simple squeeze from your index finger, a shot rang out, and your heart stopped. A growing pool of blood began to seep through Jacob’s shirt where it met the end of the barrel. The gun turned to lead in your hands, causing you to drop it almost immediately. Through the deafening shot, you heard him gasp. His eyes grew wide from the pain. He began to collapse; his balance failing him. You rush forward, trying to catch him, but to no avail. He finds respite on the rock you found him on only moments ago. His body was limp, the life slowly seeping away from him. Your hands press into his chest, trying to stop the blood flow. You crouch, keeping him from toppling over on himself. He coughs, and red begins to trickle down his chin. “It’s alright.” he strains, a small smile appearing on his lips. It was his way of comforting you. You shush him. “Sing to me.” His final request. One so simple and innocent and familiar. Your heart shatters even further. “Love me tender, love me dear, tell me you are mine, I'll be yours through all the years, 'til the end of time.” your chest heaves with a sob. You continue, “Love me tender, love me true. All my dreams fulfill. For my darling I love you, and I always will.” The final words barely make it out coherently. Jacob’s chest had stopped rising, and his eyes had a glossy film to them. His left hand was placed listlessly over your own. You felt utterly defeated, your soul being crushed with fresh, weeping sorrow. Your sobs had now transformed into curdling wails, which rang off of the surrounding mountains. Faintly through moments of silent sorrow, you heard the shouts of Jacob’s men. They were climbing the mountain, in search of the source of the shot. You wanted them to find you. You didn’t care. You wanted them to fill you with bullets; to end your misery right then and there. But before they could reach you, the strong will to survive that Jacob had prided you on, kicked in. You grabbed both his key and dog tags. Then attached your grappling hook to the cliff's edge, and before you began to descend, you take in your last look of his corpse. “Goodbye my love, may we meet again beyond the gates of Eden.”

WOAH. Okay. I’m not gonna lie, but even I sobbed while writing this. And I know this one’s a bit heavy for my first fic, but I promise the next ones won’t be (at least not all of them will be).

Thanks for reading!

[reddeadtrash]

Ghosts

Summary: There is something strange about the woman they find in the winter wilderness. She is cold, unwavering, and strangely menacing. Arthur Morgan finds himself pulled in by that vivacity. Unbeknownst to him, she knows many things that elude this cowboy. Like magnet to metal, no matter how far he throws her away, he always finds himself going back. 

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x OC

Rating: M

Word count: 3297

A/N: For those of you who know me from fanfiction.net, yes it is I, jjboivin. I have a main account for marvel, but yo, this Arthur boiiii has got me fucked up so let’s do this.

PROLOGUE: WE’RE MORE GHOSTS THAN MEN

I got a woman with eyes that shine Down deep as a diamond mine She's my treasure so very rare She's made me a millionaire 

Arthur slipped into his coat, watching as Dutch and Micah got onto their respective horses. The wind picked up and it became hard for Arthur to keep his hat on as he stepped out of the little shack, his gloved hand keeping the rugged hat in place. Blue eyes scanned the white horizon as he climbed onto his mount; a black stead borrowed from one of the guys.

              “It’s not far Arthur!” Dutch bellowed over the wind and snow. Some flakes have caught in his black beard, ice forming on the tips of his long hair.

              Micah closed in behind Arthur. “We found the first O’Driscoll-infested house and it went fine,” Micah cackled. “Found a darling little peach-Sadie that is. But otherwise, got to kill some stupid O’Driscolls.”

              “What’s to say this ain’t gonna be the death of us?” Arthur replied, steadying his horse.

              Micah smiled, and it cut his stupid face in half, and Arthur would give his left hand if it meant he could carve his knife into Micah’s face.

              After they’d found Mrs. Adler and killed the entire lot of squatters at her house, they’d heard wind of another place. Arthur was surprised to hear from Charles that there might be another home available to raid. Only thing was that he suspected O’Driscolls had taken over, as these parts were in their complete territory.

              “Here’s the plan!” Dutch bellowed. Arthur gave Micah one last glance from under the tip of his hat, then moved his horse alongside Dutch’s. “We need to find a way to spy in on the house. Not like last time. Almost got myself killed! So this time, we sneak in, and if we can make it, we go in. On my orders!”

              With that, Dutch, Arthur, Charles, and Micah rode off into the blizzard. It was a long ride. Tenacious. Snow seemed to get into every nook and cranny of Arthur’s clothing. No matter which way he placed himself, freezing bits of ice found home on his warm skin. Shivers sliced through his body as they headed uphill, his gloved-hands gripping the reins of his stead. The cold made his mouth dry, the skin of his lips cracking under the mask he’d pulled over his face.

              From the top of a hill, with snow beating against his face, Arthur saw the little house. Wooden built, two small barns out back, and a coop that was clearly being used for storage. From his vantage point, Arthur also saw the dim glow of a candle through a window.

              “Here we are boys!” Dutch reared his mount. “Let’s go!”

              They rode down the hill like wind. Fast, harsh, and tenacious. Arthur left his mount hitched on a tree just beyond the eyesight of anyone watching from the house. The four of them marched in the knee-deep snow until Arthur could not feel his feet anymore. He made a small mental note to go hunting for pelts.

              Dutch grabbed Arthur by the shoulder, brought him close. “You take the back with Charles,” he grumbled, “and Micah and I will take each side.”

              With a quick nod, Arthur dipped his hat and started his way towards the back of the house. Charles close by, they trekked through the snow. The two men were slightly jealous of the clear warmth of the house, proved by the thin sliver of smoke coming from the chimney.

              “You think we’ll find anything interesting in there?” Charles asked over the deafening screech of the wind.

              “We need food,” Arthur replied. “And money. Anything we can grab in there is useful. If we can grab ‘em off dead O’Driscolls, even better.”

              That seemed to satiate Charles, and the men went back to the task at hand.

              Arthur crept along the wooden wall until he came beside the window. Strangely it was opened, seeping warmth, the smell of cooking meat, and the voices of many men within. Frowning, he leaned against the wall and slid down, gaining more range to what he would hear.

              “They’re on the run, anyway,” one was saying. “It’s going to be hard to find him.”

              “You’ll need a trap,” this from a voice closer to the window.

              Charles crept until he was standing on the corner, eyes on Arthur and Dutch.

              “If you’re looking for ‘em, sweetheart, you’ll never find ‘em,” One added.

              Sweetheart? Arthur frowned, looking at his comrade with a skeptical look. There was rustling noise, clearly more than two bodies. A cough. A groan.

              “So you came to us to find him?” A new voice. Made a total of three unknown bodies.

              “Let the little lady have her fun, will you?”

              Arthur’s eyes locked with Charles’. The latter’s eyes went round not only because that had been a new voice which added to a total of four O’Driscolls but also because there was a woman in there. Six individuals, one of unknown intention.

              Arthur quickly crept from his perch to join Charles. “We need to get a move on,” he grumbled. “There’s a woman in there. Possibly young by what I heard. She could be in danger too.”

              “That ain’t our problem, though,” Charles said tentatively. Arthur had once been in the opposite situation, where he hadn’t given any cares for saving ladies. Now was different.

              Ignoring him, Arthur trudged in the snow to find Dutch. The latter was peaking through a window, the slight glow of candles illuminating his face; long, straight nose, dark-set eyebrows.

              “There’s a woman in there,” he said once Arthur had reached him. “There’s no guards outside. They’re drunk. It’ll be easy.”

              They regrouped in front of the house, just lightly to the side where no one could see them through the window. Arthur’s heart was beginning to hammer into his chest. No matter how many times he’d done robberies or infiltrations, he couldn’t stop the way his body reacted every time. Sweat in places he didn’t know he could make sweat. Trembling lips. Racing heartbeat. His hands, however, always remained steady.

              “Sweet and easy, boys,” Dutch grumbled.

              Like ghosts, they pulled from the shadows. Four men, hats dipped over their eyes, masks covering their faces, melted from the darkness. The glow of the candles illuminated the powerful bursting of invaders within the home. Wood tore from the hinges of the door, glass shattered from the bullets firing from guns and missing their targets. Bodies moved with practice; fire, reload, aim, kill.

              Little explosions ripped from the weapons being used to survive. The entire cabin was filled with noises of death and murder. Blood splattered from open wounds, brains staining the wood of the walls. Candles blew out from the wind screeching in from the open door.

              At the end of it, Arthur still stood beside the door, Micah, Dutch, and Charles to his left. Arthur’s gun was smoking, aimed at the last O’Driscoll he’d shot. His chest was heaving as the blue of his orbs caught the candlelight, scanning, until he met the woman surprisingly still sitting at the kitchen table.

              Arthur had seen may women in his time. Not that he was old. He’d bedded some. Played with some. Talked with many. He enjoyed the company of many women, as he was not unfamiliar with the likes of them. He loved their bodies, obviously. He could enjoy the warmth they could bring to him, the release, the entirety of being touched. He’d loved only two.

              Needless to say, Arthur had seen many women in his lifetime. But her. She could easily be the most beautiful woman he’d ever lain eyes on.

              Even though her hair was the color caramel (brunettes were more his type) and her eyes were black as midnight, Arthur was stunned for a second. His eyes came to rest on the smooth planes of her face, the slight redness of her cheeks, and the fullness of her lips. His body started to tingle. Fingers itched to smooth the tension from her eyes, to feel the plumpness of her mouth.

              Then he snapped out of it. He aimed his weapon at her.

              “Woah, there, cowpoke,” Micah grumbled. The rest of the boys had holstered their weapons. Only Arthur was still armed and ready to fire.

              Risking one last glance at the woman, Arthur carefully holstered his weapon. He lowered his mask, revealing the small itch of a beard to the warm air of the cabin. That’s when he saw the strangeness of the entire situation.

              The woman, not much older than her mid-twenties, was hogtied to the chair. Feet and hands, unable to hurt anyone or defend herself. What was stranger, however, was what she was wearing.

              Arthur had nothing against women wearing pants. But those were pants he’d never seen before. Loose and tight all at once, exposing curves. Pockets on each side of her thighs. She also wore leather boots, which had to have cost her a colossal amount of money. A loose cotton long sleeve covered her upper half, the material a dark blue. She wore no coat or any coverings to hide her from the ferocious weather.

              She was also gagged.

              “What in the hell?” he groaned.

              She was struggling against her bonds, her swan-black eyes stuck on him of all people. Arthur’s skin tingled again. Sweat coated her forehead, which was surprising, given the weather. Her caramel locks, so long they fell beyond Arthur’s eyesight, were messy and clearly needed a brush.

              “Charles,” Dutch barked, “get her talking. Micah, loot the bodies.”

              As they watched Charles take the humid gag from the woman’s mouth, the hairs at the back of Arthur’s neck stood on end.

              There was something vicious in her eyes. Something he’d seen many times; it had stared back at him and he’d stared at it right in the face. It was the same vivacity, the same tenacious anger he’d harbored into his own soul. The way the world had hardened him, he could see the reflection of it now within the blackness of this girl’s eyes.

              “Lady!” Dutch was saying, trying to catch her attention. But she was staring at Arthur. “You’re going to be okay now. We just want to ask you some questions.”

              Arthur began looking around the house. He couldn’t take her heavy stare, the perpetual blackness of her orbs, the emptiness of them. They had come here to rob, take what they most dearly needed, and be on their way.

              “Madam,” Dutch continued. By now, the wet gag was hanging from her neck. The girl exercised her jaw, eyes finally finding home somewhere else. Arthur was relieved of that. “We won’t hurt you. I promise.”

              She made a sound deep in her throat that took Arthur by surprise. A growl?

              “Really, miss?” Dutch added. “You are safe. I swear it.” When Arthur looked back at her, she was staring at him once again. She had deep-set eyebrows, thick and curved over her eyes. Her nose was small and straight, as if cut from a knife. Just over the fabric of her shirt was a long and elegant neck. This woman was made to either be a circus actress or a singer, not alone in the winter wilderness with O’Driscolls.

              “Nothin’ on these boys,” Micah grumbled, throwing away useless papers he’d found on the bodies.

              Dutch sighed heavily. “Micah, take upstairs with Charles,” he ordered in that baritone voice of his. “Arthur, stay with me and little miss… something here.”

              “I think she wants to stay mute,” Arthur grumbled. Charles and Micah headed upstairs, not with their usual banter. The girl seemed to take Arthur’s comment with anger.

              “Before we untie you,” Dutch said, “would you like to tell us your name?”

              Her black eyes slid from Arthur to land on Dutch. Her brow furrowed and something quick and menacing flashed in her features, but it was gone quickly. Arthur had enough a mind of his own to put his hand on his revolver. The girl was still tied to the chair, but something slick was crawling up on Arthur’s flesh.

              “Arya.” Her voice was hard, like frozen rain when it hits the roof of a house. Arthur remembered what it was like to huddle beside his son, listening to hail hammer on the roof. Mesmerizing and terrifying all at once.

              “That’s a pretty name,” Dutch added. “Where are you from, Arya?”

              She frowned deeper. Jokingly, Arthur imagined that if she wasn’t tied, she’d try to stick it Dutch one way or another.

              “I’m from… Delaware.”

              The hesitation was not what got to Arthur. Yes, she could be lying about where she was from, but didn’t lie about their origins occasionally? What triggered something in Arthur was the accent. Sweet, low, and something he’d never heard. He’d been around enough to hear all kinds of accents, but this was something he’d never heard before.

              It seemed like Dutch thought the same thing. “Never new folks in Delaware spoke with such an accent,” he joked, a smirk cutting his face.

              The woman – Arya – jerked her chin. “If you would be kind enough to untie me,” she said, her accent still catching Arthur off guard, “I’d like to go.”

              Dutch put up his hand so fast, even Arthur didn’t see it. “Now, now, little lady,” he grumbled. “I’d just like to know why the O’Driscolls had you tied up like fresh meat.”

              Silence filled the room. Arthur took off his gloves and passed a hand over his face. “We just want…” he trailed off, meeting her dark gaze. Shivers ran down his spine. “It ain’t like the O’Driscolls to leave a woman… untouched.”

              Dutch cleared his throat, albeit awkwardly. “Why were they questioning you?”

              Again, that defiant chin jerk. “Because I was following them.”

              The admission was surprising. A woman following the O’Driscolls?

              “You’re the law?” Arthur asked, perplexed.

              Arya made a weird gesture with her mouth, scoffed out, “do I look like the law to you, gentlemen?”

              “Then why were you following them?” Arthur pressed. He put both palms on the table, leaning closer. This time, with the glow of the candlelight, he could see freckles on the bridge of her nose. It made him think of his younger days, when he himself had a wash of freckles on his cheeks. Only two remained, however.

              “They could bring me to the man who murdered my brother,” she admitted coolly.

              Dutch stirred. “Colm?” he asked.

              She veered her icy glare on him. Shrugged. Bit the inside of her cheek. All with the allure of utter viciousness. “Yes,” she replied. Something in the way she stared at Dutch made Arthur believe she was hiding something. Either it was the answer to Dutch’s question or something else altogether, Arthur didn’t want to know.

              “Then, little miss Arya-“ Dutch began.

              “Don’t call me little,” she growled.

              Dutch smiled widely, like Arthur had never seen him do. “Oh, I like you,” he bellowed, pointing at her. “If you’re planning on getting your hands on Colm O’Driscoll, then you should be riding with us.”

              Arthur straightened, looked at his boss with shock. Wasn’t he the one that said to stop bringing strays in?

              “Do you have information on them?” Dutch continued.

              “Dutch!”

              Micah ran into the kitchen, his eyes wild with bloodlust. Arthur’s skin crawled.

              “I see some comin’!” he panted. “Three on horseback, maybe more!”

              Dutch considered that for a second, before jumping into action. “Go back upstairs with Charles and hold the windows,” he ordered. “Arthur, take the back of the house. I’ll take the front.”

              “I can handle a weapon, you know,” Arya said. In the little mess, they’d all forgotten about her.

              “The little lady speaks!” Micah cackled, but cowed under the growl Dutch gave him, and scurried up the stairs.

              “Arthur,” Dutch grumbled, “untie her. Give her a gun.”

              The order was banal and so unbecoming of Dutch. Give a woman a weapon? Could she really handle herself?

              Arthur did as he was told, however, and used his knife to cut her bonds. Up close, she smelled of lake water and fresh air. Her wavy hair was soft against his cheek as he brushed on it to free her ankles. And when she stood, much smaller than he would have guessed, she looked up at him with a deep frown.  “You gonna give me a gun, or what?” she growled, still with that accent of hers he couldn’t place.

              Grumbling, he handed her his revolver and took out his rifle. “Cover the windows,” he said lowly. When she turned and walked away from him, he could see how her trousers hugged her curves and he knew that if this woman accepted to ride with them, Miss Grimshaw would have a field day with her.

              The shooting started not long after. Micah would be heard upstairs, roaring his pleasure from the top of his lungs. Windows and glass broke all over again. Wood splintered and shattered, curses thrown in the air like confetti, and one thing was sure, that little Arya was fending for herself good enough.

              When it was all over, and the house was once again rendered a total mess, the five of them stood in the kitchen. Arya stood near the entrance, still gripping Arthur’s revolver. The latter was panting beside Dutch in the kitchen. Charles and Micah were staring at the woman from their perch in the stairs.

              “Little lady knows how to shoot,” Micah taunted again. His blonde hair was stuck to his sweaty face, and when he stuck his tongue out to lick his lips, even Arthur shivered in disgust.

              “Call me little again, and I’ll show you just how good I can shoot,” Arya growled, turning to face Micah.

              Just then, the door burst open. A gush of wind blew across the kitchen, cold and brutal. A lone O’Driscoll, desperate and terrified, came staggering in, aiming aimlessly around the cabin. In a movement so quick and precise, Arya had wormed her way into obtaining that man’s knife. Arthur was readying to draw and save her life, but the woman had sunk the knife so deep in the O’Driscoll’s throat that blood was already pooling on the wooden floor. The body made a sickening thud as it hit the ground.

              The silence didn’t last long, but in it, Arthur saw no evidence of fear in Arya’s face. She was stoic, brows pulled, lips puckered, as she sheathed the knife into the belt of her trousers. She wasn’t even trembling.

              “Okay!” Micah laughed as he jumped down from his perch. He strolled by Arya, giving her a light tap on the shoulder. “I like you.”

              Dutch was laughing too. “You’re welcome to come with us, miss,” he said, then gesture to her bloody hands. “We could use someone like you.”

              Her silence was answer enough. She was strangely attractive, with blood speckled on her face, anger written all over her features, hair in a mess.

              “Arthur, you can ride with her.” Dutch’s command brought Arthur out of his reverie.

              He was not pleased by that. He didn’t want to get any closer to the strange vivacity of her. It seemed like it would pull him in, too.

              He gestured for her to follow him. She grabbed the O’Driscoll’s coat and followed him out into the still-raging blizzard.

              Arthur’s mount waited for them at the stable. Everyone mounted, Micah yapping on about something that seemed to displease Charles, because they were going at it. Arthur was more concentrated on the woman he was currently gripping by the forearm and helping up onto the saddle, in front of him. He wasn’t comfortable with having her behind him yet. When she moved her legs so she could straddle the horse, Arthur frowned deeply. Could this woman get any stranger?

[neonganymede]

Bruh if you’re still taking prompts: 5 and 6 for reaper76?

I’m like. Always taking requests. Especially Overwatch requests. 

5. “You are beautiful. How could you not see that?”

6. “I don’t think it was supposed to turn out like this.”

Dorado was eerilybeautiful at night. The half-moon danced shadows across alleyway doors, shiningupon luminescent graffiti and giving the hard edges of the city a dark, ominoustone. The night was almost quiet, save for the yelling, the gunshots, the raw furyechoing off Dorado’s winding streets. The rapid fire of a pulse rifle—themethodical thunder of twin shotguns—helix rockets crashing into a wall anddismembering it, leaving behind only shattered brick and a floating cloud ofdust.

The two ghosts movedrapidly through the dark cover of the night, engaged in a deadly game ofcat-and-mouse, though which was the cat and which was the mouse could never bequite clear. They were both simultaneously, each of them believing that theywere the leader in this violent dance of gunfire until one of them gained theupper hand momentarily.

Just then, Soldier:76 hadthe upper hand. He chased the menace known as the Reaper, a foe of his ownmaking and undoing. His emotions ran high, his finger trigger-happy and his breathshort. He didn’t stop sprinting after the wraith, though his shots were aimedmore to impede than injure.

His opponent had notshared the same courtesy, and so 76 was nursing an angry wound in his shoulder.That didn’t stop him, and it definitely didn’t slow him down. He’d been throughthe SEP, wars, and rough days on the road as a vigilante; it would take a lotmore to even break his stride.

The Reaper knew this, knew76 as well as he knew himself, and wasn’t about to take it easy on him.Logically, 76 knew he had to be careful, but the fury boiling his blood andpushing his legs to keep going demanded recklessness.

Reaper tried to take ahard left, and Jack decorated the wall with an array of bullets to cut him off.That second of hesitation was just enough for 76 to crash right into him,pinning him against the colorful tag of LosMuertos. Reaper snarled, struggled, pushed against him with all of hisweight, and 76 nearly lost his footing. Reaper was built solid and powerful,but all of that strength could be a weakness if 76 planted himself sound enoughagainst him.

After a moment, Reaperstopped struggling. Humidity and tension burned between them, coiling in thepit of 76’s stomach as he tried to catch his breath. He’d won, for now. He hadReaper trapped between himself and the wall, but he knew it would only be amatter of seconds before the wraith turned to smoke and slid out of his grasp.

He had to make this quick.

Slamming the Reaper backagainst the wall, 76 snarled, “Let me see your face!” His own voice soundedgrating, raw, and overemotional, but he didn’t give a damn.

Reaper’s eyes were on him,and he felt more than heard his incredulous scoff. “What the fuck makes youthink you can start making demands, boy scout?”

“Goddamn it, Gabriel!” 76tossed down his gun so he could grip Reaper’s cloak with both hands and shakehim a little. Unarming himself around his most lethal enemy probably wasn’t agood idea, not when Reaper’s shotguns were still at his sides, but this matterseemed more important than impending doom. “Take off the mask!”

“Why?” Reaper demandedright back, his low growl menacing enough that it sent a shiver through 76.Next, his tone rang with promise, the threat real and dangerous. “What reasoncould you possibly have for wanting to see your murderer’s face?”

“You know why!” There wasno doubt in Soldier:76 that Reaper knew what today was. Gabriel was always theone obsessed with anniversaries. He remembered the strangest dates—their firstkiss, their first night together, the first time he ate Jack’s food and didn’tvomit—so for Reaper to be asking… asking whywhen he had to know….

76was starting to lose his stride, the low pain building in his heart. Did Reaperreally not know what day it was? His hands were slipping, so he grippedReaper’s cloak as tight as he could and ignored the pain flaring in hisshoulder.

“Just…let me see you, Gabriel. I’m not asking for much.”

Reapersighed, as if 76 really was asking for too much. The soldier deflated more, hisgrip slackening. He might as well pick up his pulse rifle so they could go backto killing each other. That was more productive than this.

Butthen Reaper surprised him. He began to reach up toward the bone mask, meagermoonlight glinting across his claws. “I should warn you now, Jackie. I’m not aspretty as I used to be.”

Themask fell away, and the sight stole 76’s breath. He recognized Gabriel Reyes,but at the same time, he did not. There were more scars now and brilliant redwhere his eyes were once brown. 76 longed to reach out, touch skin that lookedsomewhat grayer than it used to be, but the narrow of Gabe’s eyes warned himagainst it.

“Yourturn,” said Gabriel, the threat still present.

76scoffed but listened. Some things never changed, and he figured that Gabemaking aggressive demands of him was one of them. He released the latch on hisvisor and lifted it from his face, blinking his eyes to readjust to the light.

Gabelaughed once, dark and humorless. “Look at you. Still a goddamn work of art.”

“Don’tpatronize me.”

“I’mnot.” Gabe narrowed his eyes. “Even with scars, you’re still….” He ground histeeth and shook his head, his tongue shooting out to wet his upper lip. Jackwanted to shake him. That was how half of their fights used to go—Gabe wettinghis lip, drawing Jack’s attention, and ending with one of them pressed upagainst a wall somewhere.

Hell,they were halfway there already.

Butthe memory of the last time they were truly face to face like this grippedJack’s heart. His grasp on Gabe’s cloak was tightening again, he hated himselffor how vulnerable he must look in front of his enemy.

“Jack…?”Gabriel actually sounded a little worried, as if the soldier’s sudden quiet wassomething to be concerned about. This was not their norm—not anymore, at least.They were used to fighting now, all guns and violence and angry words, notlonging, painful looks or touches that lasted too long.

“Gabe,”Jack murmured with a slight shake of his head. His voice, a gruff imitation ofwhat had once been pleasant to the ear, sounded desperate in the quiet night. “Gabriel. You are beautiful. How couldyou not see that?”

Gabrielsaid nothing, as if stunned into silence. Jack swallowed, trying to stifle thebuild of emotions in his chest. He failed.

“Youremember what today is, don’t you? You always remembered everything.”

Thetension between them pulled taut, and Jack held his breath.  searched his face, as if trying to detect ahint of trickery, but Jack kept himself open, bare. Vulnerable.

Gabriellet out a loud breath, and just like that, the pressure in the air evaporated.Jack swayed a little, getting used to this sudden shift, and braced himselfagainst Gabe. The familiarity made his eyes burn. His shoulder twinged.

“It’s the anniversary of the last time I sawyour ridiculously attractive mug.”

AndGabe was right. Of course he was right. It was the anniversary of their fight.Not just any fight because they were almost always fighting there at the end.The most important, literally explosive fight. The one where they both died butdidn’t die.

“I’msurprised you remembered,” said Gabe conversationally.

“Weboth died, Gabriel.”

“Yougot the better funeral.”

“Iguess they liked me better.” Jack shrugged, finding it easy to fall into theirold banter. It had been nice. Before Rialto, before all those arguments thatdidn’t seem so important anymore—Gabriel had been his only constant. Jackmissed that.

“Everybodyliked you better,” Gabe pointed out, the ghost of a smile curling at his lips.

“Noteverybody,” Jack argued, feeling his shoulders slump in exhaustion. “Gabe… whathappened to us?”

“Maritaldispute?” Gabe raised an eyebrow.

“I’mbeing serious.”

“Soam I.” He tossed down his shotguns and raised his chin; if Jack hadn’t been soclose, he probably would’ve crossed his arms. Jack recognized the look; thatwas always the stare he got when he was in trouble, when he forgot they hadplans or overworked himself into exhaustion. He shuddered from the memories.

“Ican’t believe you hunt me down nowinstead of last week’s anniversary.”

Jackscoffed. “Which one?”

“Theimportant one.” Gabriel shifted, serious again. He reached a tentative hand up,hesitating before he delicately set his hand against Jack’s cheek. Jack took adeep breath, amazed at how delicately Gabriel treated him when just momentsago, they’d been shooting at each other. “The one where we promised not to letany of that political shit come between us. The one where we promised that wewould stick together no matter what.”

“Becausewe loved each other,” Jack finished breathlessly.

Gabenodded. “Because we loved each other.”

“Arguably,we still do?” Jack tried to keep the hope out of his voice, but the strain onGabriel’s face betrayed that he’d failed.

Thiswas too much. Jack tried to put some distance between them, but Gabriel’s handslid around to the back of his neck and held him tight. His red eyes wereinsistent, serious, and kept Jack pinned in place.

“Arguably,”Gabriel confirmed wryly. “You’re still a pain in my ass, Jackie.”

“Likeyou’re really any better. You wanna ask how my shoulder feels right about now?”

“Youshot at me first; I thought we were fighting!”

“Iwas trying to stop you. I wanted to talk.”

Gabrielhuffed gruffly. With his free hand, he fumbled around Jack’s person until hefinds what he’s looking for. He tosses the biotic field onto the floor, andJack breathes a sigh at the pleasant feeling washing over him.

Thetwo of them stared at each other, the field’s glowing yellow light dancingbetween them until it faded away. Jack wondered what happened next; where didthey go now? Could they go back to fighting the way they had been? Jack wasn’tsure if he could bear it now, not with the way Gabriel kept looking at him.

“I don’t think it was supposed to turn outlike this,” said Jack, expecting Gabe to come back with a sarcastic remark.

“No,”he agreed, his thumb drawing circles on the soft flesh beneath Jack’s ear. “Itwasn’t.”

“Whatdo we do now?”

Gabrielwas quiet for a long moment, as though debating with himself. His browfurrowed, and how mouth twitched a bit. Jack knew that expression, too. Thatwas Gabe’s “I’ve-Made-A-Decision-And-I’m-Not-Sure-If-You’re-Gonna-Like-It”look. Jack raised a curious eyebrow, but Gabe only smiled.

“Whatdo you say we make a new occasion to celebrate?”

Jackrolled his eyes, a thrill running through him. “What do you have in mind?”

“Wefinish what we started. Together this time.” Gabe gave him a doubtful look, hislips pressed into a teasing line. “Think you’ll be up for it, old man?”

Jacklaughed once. Then again. A smile broke out on his face, and he reached up tocup Gabriel’s cold cheeks in his hands, already pulling him down to seal thedeal the best way he knew how.

“Ithink I can handle it.”