#but you lack the skills to pull it off and you have to improvise

[jackyjackdraws]

@forduary week 3: Insomnia

College hitting me like

[thefanficmonster]

Do you do NSFW? If so, may I request a Markiplier NSFW alphabet?

Hi dear! Usually I struggle greatly when writing anything NSFW for RPF but I shall do my best. Baby steps lol Hope you enjoy <3

Pairing: Markiplier x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: !!NSFW content below the cut!!

A= Aftercare (What they're like after the act)

Mark is the absolute sweetest and most attentive lover before, during and after the act.

After he's made sure you're alright, he'd go grab you a bottle of water, a snack and a towel to clean you up. You can bet on a long cuddle sesh after the act, filled with intimacy and romance, periodically interrupted by jokes he'd crack to make you laugh.

B= Body Part (Favorite body part of their own or on their lover)

He's pretty damn proud of his hands. Years of gaming have made them particularly skillful in many ways and he knows how to utilize them just right *wink* *wink*

Oh, and also his back. He's been influenced to love it by you more so than on his own accord but still.

On you, he loves your legs and thighs. Count on him constantly having his hands all over them in both innocent and explicit instances. And when you wrap your legs around his waist....consider him a goner.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Inside, no questions asked.

Before you got to the point of being comfortable enough for that, however, he found just as much pleasure in painting either your chest, thighs or face.

D= Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory)

Nothing helps him excel at a game quite like under-the-desk head while recording. Bonus points if it's a live stream.

E= Experience (do they know what they're doing)

Mark has had decent amount of experience, enough to be versed into how things work textbook-wise. Every skill he exhibits, however, is something he improvised at some point. But don't take that the wrong way - this man knows exactly what he's doing

F= Favorite Position

Mark is simple man and his favorite position reflects that - Doggy style (closely followed by cowgirl)

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

Oh this man is a majore league goof in general and during sex. That's not to say he can't get into character and dawn a serious and attractively intimidating front when the atmosphere of the night calls for it.

He's a perfect balance between goofy and serious, occasionally leaning far left or far right depending on the moment.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

He takes care of his hygiene rather meticulously. He keeps everything neat, trimmed and clean.

I= Intimacy (how are they in the moment)

There's never a shortage of intimacy between you and Mark during the act. Regardless of if the night calls for making love or having rough sex, there's never a lack of intimacy and closeness between you two.

That being said, I'd again say it's perfectly balanced. Whatever the night calls for is how Mark responds - be it slow, romantic lovemaking or rough and dirty sex.

J= Jerk-off (do they masturbate and how often)

He used to do it a lot more frequently before you started dating. Now, nothing can compare to the real thing. He can't find much satisfaction in masturbating but he still turns to it as a resort of release when either of you is away on a trip

K= Kink (kinks they might have)

Dear God, please forgive me for this...

Choking, spanking, hair-pulling, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, light bondage, praising/degrading (depending on what the situation calls for). Feel free to share your thoughts on this topic in the comments

L= Location (where they're down to get it on)

Every single surface in the house is game in Mark's eyes. Especially the kitchen counter and the nicely spacious shower

M= Motivation (what gets them going)

You, in any context you can think of. You don't even need to be dressed provocatively in any way shape or form. This man is just so head over heels for you, he can't help it.

Apart from that, a good ol' rage game will raise his blood pressure just right and he'll proceed to blow off some steam with you. The same works the other way around - when he's high on the success of completing a game and he celebrates with you

N= No (what they're strictly against and wouldn't try)

Anything with violent and hostile connotations that could bring you harm in any way, be it physical or emotional. He loves you more than words can describe and just the thought of hurting you fills him with dread. You both like dabbling into the occasional impact play but nothing more than that, and never without a safe word.

O= Oral (are they more of a giver or receiver)

Mark is a big fan of receiving but he enjoys giving so much more. He does it for his own pleasure just as much as he does it to bring you satisfaction. He loves every aspect of it - your taste, the tangling of your hands in his hair, the sounds you make, the bucking of your hips. It's his own personal high. He could do it for hours if you'd let him.

P= Pace (what's their pace during the act)

Again, the speed setting Mark operates on depends on the atmosphere of the night. On the regular, he likes to take it slow, prolong the experience and uphold this bubble of intimacy around the two of you for as long as he can.

Q= Quickie (are they a fan of quickies)

Nope.

The Devil is into details and so is Mark. And it's difficult to appreciate the details when working with a small time frame. He likes to take his time, worshipping you the way you deserve in the most meticulous and intimate manner.

R= Risk (how risky are they/do they like trying new things)

Oh he loves a good unconventional and borderline public location where there's a chance at getting caught. Although he prefers the comfort of your shared house it doesn't cancel out his love for the thrill of some public fun.

As for trying new things, he's down to try everything at least once - unless it falls in the No criteria I mentioned earlier. All you have to do is bring it up and you can automatically consider him signed up and strapped in, ready to try it.

S= Stamina (how long they last in bed)

The speed may or may not directly relate to how long he lasts. He can get at least two rounds - a solid hour/hour and a half - under his belt before breaking a sweat.

T= Toys (do they own and and are they down to experiment with them)

I have a feeling there is a box, hidden in a dark corner of a closer or under his bed, containing a small collection of sex toys. If you're game to use him, he'd love nothing more than take them out to play.

U= Unfair (are they a tease)

To an infuriating degree. He'd even mock you when you whine, beg or get frustrated with his teasing.

It's music to his ears.

V= Volume (how loud are they during sex)

Mark is vocal but not loud.

He exhibits his satisfaction and pleasure with mainly sighs and groans, all at a pretty low volume. But he's also very expressive during sex - praising/degrading you accordingly or dirty talking you over the edge. All in a whispered or hushed tone that makes it all the hotter.

W= Wild Card

Remember how I said he's not a big fan of masterbating? Well, when he has to resort to it he has a certain way of making it much more pleasurable...

Photos and videos you two have taken during the act or right afterwards in your disheveled states.

It's his personal collection, safely tucked away in a dark hidden corner of his computer memory.

X= X-Ray (what are they packing)

I'm sorry, I can't. I just can't. I've sinned enough tonight LMAOO

Y= Yearning (sex drive level)

Name: Mark

Status: Permanently horny

Z= Zzzz (*yawn*)

I already mentioned a cuddle sesh earlier and I will now add onto it to say that, although he tries his best not to, he does fall asleep rather quickly and deeply. How could he not when he feels so much comfort with his arms wrapped around you. When he falls asleep to the sound of your breathing and heartbeat, it's the most peaceful slumber he's ever had.

[lina-linny]

summary: Your boyfriend Minho comes home after a busy week and just wants to relax.

words: 0,8k

genre: fluff

"Ok im not letting you cook ever again."It was the first sentence your boyfriend uttered after entering your shared apartment.

You had offered to cook for him despite your lack of cooking skills. Minho had had a stressful week. From photo shoot to video shoot to dance practice to interviews. He hadn't had much time to relax so you had thought about taking at least a little stress off him. You had cleaned the whole apartment, fed and bathed the cats and last but not least you wanted to cook dinner for him.

Even though it was a bit late, you knew that minho hadn't eaten yet. So you sent your boyfriend a message about two hours ago and asked what he would like for dinner. His crative reply "I don't care" didn't really help you. So you decided to go off on your own, go to the supermarket and pick out everything for his favorite meal.

It already started badly, as it was quite late and half of the ingredients you needed were already sold out. But instead of seeing this as a sign to simply go with ramen or take out, you decide to improvise. What could possibly go wrong?

Quite a lot, as it turned out. Because that's how you ended up here. In the large kitchen of your apartment. There were ingredients and bowls everywhere. Everything was dirty, including you, and the ingredients that had ended up in the cooking pot were burned.

You were on the verge of tears when you heard the door open. Which could only mean that your boyfriend was home. Minho came into the kitchen after some time and snorted when he saw you standing there in such despair.

"Ok im not letting you cook ever again Jagiya." You just glared at him. He came over to you and ran his hand over your hair to remove what you thought was a little flour. A long, blessed sigh escaped you and you wrapped your arms around Minho's torso. He buried his face in your hair, laughing.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled against his neck.

"I just wanted to cook something for you because your week has been so stressful..." he laughed softly at your apologies.

"You're sweet... What do you say I order us dinner, clean up your mess and you take a shower in the meantime?" You just nod, but don't move, not yet ready to give up your boyfriend's body heat.

He breaks away from you and starts to order food for the two of you on his cell phone.

"Thank you for trying... with the cooking Jagiya." He doesn't look up from his cell phone. Not even when he adds:

"But please do me a favor and never touch our kitchen again. Especially not with the intention of cooking something, otherwise you'll probably burn down the building." He laughs lightly as your lips curl into a pout.

"I hate you, Minho." You grumble and head to the bathroom, where you take a much-needed shower while your boyfriend cleans up your kitchen grinningto himself.

Just as you finish, you hear Minho taking the food delivery. Exhausted, you plop down on one of the chairs at the dining table and wait until minho places two plates of food in front of you. One for you and one for him. He sits down opposite you and pulls his plate towards him, which contains a little less food than yours.

Sometimes it's hard for minho to show or express what a person means to him and little things like that have always been proof that he cares about you. You smile as Minho immediately starts shoveling the food into himself.

"Does it taste good?"

"Yes," he replies curtly and goes back to eating. You start eating too and you both enjoy the silence that has settled over your apartment. After dinner, you get ready for bed, still in silence, until you and your boyfriend finally slip under the covers.

You lie quietly and relaxed next to each other and are almost caught up in a dream when you feel your boyfriend wrap his arms around you.

"Thank you for always taking such good care of me and the cats." He whispers in your ear as he snuggles closer to you.

"And that you tried to cook... I really appreciate it all. I don't know what I would do without you." You turn into his embrace so that you can wrap your arms around him and that's enough for an answer. No words needed between you and Minho. Because you both know how deeply you care for each other.

You hear his breathing become more even and feel yourself relax more and more. The two of you snuggle together, nourished by each other's body heat, and soon drift off to sleep.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hello mbti-notes, 28F ENFP here. I have written to you a few times, one of them about my relationship with my 27M INTJ boyfriend and the other about my childhood trauma regarding my ENTJ mother and how it was keeping me from pursuing my art career.

I have been on the road of Fi development and lately I have started to develop Te. Some major life events happened since the last time I wrote to you; I had gotten diagnosed with ADHD after suspecting having it for years; then, my younger cousins got diagnosed with level one autism (Formerly known as Aspergers), and after my mother conversed with their mothers, we reached the conclusion I and other members of the family are also autistic and ADHD, since I displayed symptoms of both as a child.

With this new knowledge, I have been making all the changes necessary to accommodate myself and do the best I can and pull my own weight. I am almost finishing University, and my boyfriend (he’s pretty much my husband at this point) started his doctorate and is now an art teacher at our local arts University. (those issues I had written to you prior were resolved and we have been very happy together and supportive of each other since).

I have been slowly tearing down my perfectionistic tendencies; I am no longer unhappy about my work or extremely self-critic to the point I put myself down. I have gained confidence and trust in myself and handling problems, crafting solutions, planning (even if short-term) and improvising. I have been re-enganging my Ne in a healthy manner, focusing on my projects and progress instead of being scattered and wanting to do everything and anything.

Despite that, and all the growth I have done already, I feel that I have an unsurnamable mountain of obstacles to pass through. Over the last year, I have realized just how little my ISTP, probably autistic and bipolar father and ENTJ, probably ADHD mother completely failed to prepare me for life. I was emotionally neglected, made a scapegoat for their problems, made to pick up after myself because of my autism and ADHD being seen as failures of character instead of disabilities.

They saw I was intelligent, and rationalized it as “not needing help”; then, when my problems with executive disfunction and organization started flaring up due to their neglect, they yelled and blamed it on me, worsening the situation. I grew up with no understanding of boundaries; I wasn’t allowed to advocate for myself and everytime I tried I was yelled at; I wasn’t allowed to discover myself and my identity properly so I clinged to my special interests like a moth to a flame; I was shamed for my way of functioning and that impeded me of developing proper knowledge of myself and what I needed.

I now notice my social differences, my trouble dealing with and regulating emotions (and why I put off dealing with them), and my lack of social skills and differentiating levels of relationships. I feel angry that the time I needed to be using to deal with these issues, during adolescence and early adulthood, was taken away by autistic burnout, depression, and dealing with a disfunctional family who had no idea how to care for me and never tried to, and spent pursuing bad relationships, hyperfixations and changing interests, all the while not being able to put effort into what I really wanted because of the shame and judgement they placed on me.

I have been trying my best to pick up the slack, but it’s hard. I can see now how I was unjustly punished for my differences my whole life. I finally understand now why people get upset with me with things like being unable to regulate tone or asking clarifying questions (when I’m just trying to understand them).

I have accepted myself; I know my difficultities now and I know what I have to do to regulate myself, but I still can’t stop feeling angry at this injustice. I do my best to be proactive and helpful in the communities I join and make friends, but people will turn on me the moment I do something impulsive like vent to chat about my parents doing something rude to me that day (which happens regularly). The bridges I put effort into building get destroyed in minutes, and I feel like all my progress is undone.

Family is a tricky issue for people, I get it. There are different times and places to say things, I get it. But It still happens. I know the way to fix it would be to leave, but due to the housing crisis, inflation and my expenses of trying to finish my degree, I can’t move out of this place and still currently live with them. Rent is unnafordable, my boyfriend is going through his degree and busy, and I’m already at capacity fully comitting myself to art and doing the best job I can with chores and house stuff.

I know my parents have issues and I try my best do understand and be empathethic, but they aren't doing anything to get better or to resolve them. My dad is on disability and unemployment aid right now, he does minimal chores and watches TV and sleeps all day. My mother is a pre-school teacher and constantly overworks herself because that's how she learned to get through life.

A few months ago, my mom almost ended her marriage because in her words, she developed a "platonic crush" for another man. It was a huge fight, and one they tried to drag me into. When they're not having outright fights, they act lovey-dovey; but they soon have another nasty fight, and the cycle goes on.

My dad is extremely misoginistic, judgemental, and cynical. Everytime he tries to engage me in conversation, I act uniteresting so he leaves me alone. I am uncapable of building a relationship with them after all they did to me.

I just can’t stop feeling I got dealt a sh*tty hand in life and there is nothing I can do about it. I realize this is Si grip talking, but this enviroment completely kills all my optimist, motivation and will to move foward in life, and I’ve been doing this dance for way too long and just want it to end once and for all so I can keep progressing. I know I’ve already come a long way, but I can’t stop feeling it still isn’t enough, and I’m afraid that feeling won’t ever go away. So I turn to you for guidance on what to do.

Currently I am sitting on a few unfinished projects (a comic and animation) that will be my portfolio só I can start working while I finish my degree. My parents are paying for the remainder of it (honestly, the least they could do after the horrible lifetime they gave me) but I plan to start paying for it myself as soon as I get some work. I guess what I'm trying to get at is that I'm doing everything to try and make things better, but I feel like they never will, and I don't know how to deal with that.

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

Whenever people tell me about how they're making progress, even trying to develop lower functions, but also suffering from inferior grip, the alarm bells go off in my head, because it usually indicates some form of troublesome denial. In terms of type development, inferior grip is one of the most serious signs that something is not right psychologically.

I never want to poopoo on people's efforts to improve. I definitely believe that you've been putting forth your best efforts. However, if the outcome is inferior grip, it means there's a problem with your approach or method.

The way that you're stuck in blaming your parents for your misfortunes is not just a sign of Si grip, but also Te loop. If you're suffering from Te loop, it means Fi development hasn't progressed to the point where you are ready for Te development. Being a lower function, trying to develop Te when you're not ready is only going to exacerbate Te loop and eventually lead you into Si grip.

I won't deny that the people around you every day have a big influence over you. As a Feeler, their moods can easily affect yours. When that happens, the best thing to do is to draw up boundaries, to try to shield yourself from those negative influences as much as possible. However, what you've done is the opposite.

You've been drawn into the negative influence through blaming them, fighting back (mentally), judging them for their flaws, indulging pointless "what if" scenarios about your past, etc. In short, you have been swallowed up by the negativity partly because you didn't do enough to protect yourself from it. This is related to Fi development because Fi should inform you about what is needed for self-protection.

Now, since you find yourself in a hopeless place and can't accept the feelings of helplessness, the recourse is Te loop. You wish to actively "correct" everything that you perceive is "wrong". However, this is a futile endeavor. Why? Because those things are not for you to correct. You have overstepped/violated boundaries by wanting to solve problems that aren't your responsibility. This only serves to entangle you in them.

You mom and dad's flaws, your mom and dad's relationship, are none of your business, but you are all up in there. Even if they try to involve you, as an adult, you have the power to refuse. Because you care about them, it's hard for you to refuse, but refuse you must. That's what it means to draw healthy boundaries.

Yes, it's tragic to have been deprived as a child. One thing you realize more and more deeply as you get older (especially if you have children of your own) is that parents are human, their knowledge is limited, and people can only do the best they can based on what they know. Many, many people are ignorant about psychological issues because they have had no opportunity to learn about them. What's worse, sometimes what they have learned is misinformation or outdated information based on what was being taught when they were growing up.

I say this not to excuse the bad things that parents do, but to foster empathy for the fact that people can't do better when they don't know better. You are the same. You didn't think to change your behavior or didn't know how to do it in the right way until you learned about ADHD. You live, you learn.

Empathy for others starts with empathy for oneself. Instead of pitying yourself or being angry about your past, healthy Fi should prompt you to express empathy for your struggles today. There aren't enough signs that you possess this depth of empathy, which indicates Fi development has a long way to go yet. It's hard to feel empathy when you're in the thick of negativity, but that's the time when it's most important to practice it.

An important part of having empathy for yourself, aka self-compassion, is allowing yourself to move at a realistic pace in life, a pace that takes your challenges into fair consideration, rather than always trying to live up to unreasonable ideals. Feeling "not good enough" and being afraid of that feeling never going away is directly related to Fi development and lack of self-acceptance. You must accept the truth of yourself and the facts of your situation before you can move forward in a meaningful way.

Also, if you find yourself speaking inappropriately or not giving enough consideration to social context when your feelings get too big, it means you haven't done enough to set up a good social support system and create more appropriate opportunities to explore your personal issues. Expecting parents or colleagues to give you support that they are not capable of giving is basically wasting energy barking up the wrong tree. In other words, don't look for love in all the wrong places. This is related to Fi development in terms of doing what it takes to care well for your well-being.

You are well into adulthood. At some point, it has to be fully your responsibility to craft the life you want. By continuing to blame your parents for not living up to your ideals, you are the one keeping yourself tied to past unhappiness, rather than moving forward. It is a choice you make.

I always say that forgiveness isn't about other people. Forgiveness is something you do for yourself. It's not good for you to live in a state of resentment, anger, or hate. It's not good to keep revisiting and rehashing such emotions on an endless loop. Therefore, you have to learn to forgive the mistakes of the past so that you can have the emotional stability necessary to focus on improving your life today and into the future.

Forgiving your parents for being the imperfect human beings that they are is difficult but necessary, not for their sake, but for yours. You can set yourself free from the past at any time through learning how to be more accepting, empathetic, and forgiving, which is very much tied to Fi development. This would be a healthy way of lifting yourself out of Si grip and mending your mental health.

[ogradyfilm]

Recently Viewed - Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning Part One

[The following review contains SPOILERS; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!]

Objective. Obstacle. Solution. Complication. Rinse and repeat until the goal is achieved. Over the course of almost three decades, the Mission: Impossible series has refined its formula to near perfection. The latest installment—the cumbersomely titled Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning Part One—does it again, but bigger: the stakes are higher, the stunts more awesome, the locations more numerous, and the pace more relentless.

Beneath its surface-level spectacle, however, the film is also surprisingly intimate. The plot, after all, is rather basic and busy—with our intrepid heroes pursuing a vaguely defined McGuffin from set piece to explosive set piece—and shootouts, car chases, and train top brawls, no matter how immaculately framed and impeccably choreographed, can only carry a story so far; it is the characters that keep the audience invested in the action.

For perhaps the first time since the original movie, Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt feels like an actual human being (M:i:III’s awkward, unconvincing attempt to portray him as an average Joe between assignments notwithstanding). Make no mistake: he’s still a cape away from being an outright superhero; he jumps a motorcycle off a mountain, survives injuries that would reduce a mere mortal to pulp, and is explicitly stated in dialogue to be the one person on Earth capable of thwarting the villains’ schemes. But director Chris McQuarrie manages to find the chinks in our protagonist’s durable armor; Hunt doesn’t stick every landing, is frequently outmaneuvered by his foes, and occasionally fails to save his friends. Here more than ever, it is evident that his success relies more on luck than skill or cunning; indeed, the relative inexperience of rookie operative Grace (Hayley Atwell) serves to highlight the utter absurdity of his propensity for improvisation.

Hunt’s vulnerabilities aren’t just skin deep: he is fiercely protective of his allies—even at the expense of the mission. To him, casualties and collateral damage are totally unacceptable; while the Secretary is heartless enough to simply disavow knowledge of their existence, the loss of an agent would (and does) haunt Ethan for the rest of his days. This unwavering loyalty manifests as intense fear—and Cruise’s steely conviction absolutely sells it.

The supporting players are equally compelling. Of particular note is Henry Czerny’s Eugene Kittridge, returning to the franchise following a twenty-seven-year absence; the incomparably charismatic actor, who could recite a grocery list with gravitas, makes bloated, unwieldy exposition sound as musical as Shakespeare’s sonnets. His adversarial relationship with his subordinate likewise enriches the central conflict; Hunt is too well acquainted with his boss’ jingoism to trust him completely, and Kittridge resents Hunt’s tendency to “go rogue” at the slightest provocation—but each man nevertheless grudgingly respects the other, and they will immediately put aside their differences should the situation require cooperation.

Pom Klementieff delivers the real standout performance, though, lending depth and complexity to what could easily have been a generic minion. As the maniacal Paris, the actress—best known for her comparatively subdued role in Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy—projects a wonderfully chaotic energy; this is a baddie that thoroughly enjoys her violent work, relishing the wanton destruction left behind in her wake. But something resembling a conscience lurks within her cruelty and savagery, and its gradual emergence is the film’s most delightful twist.

These memorable minor antagonists compensate for the otherwise uninspiring heavies. As the enigmatic mastermind pulling the strings from the shadows, The Entity is adequate enough, propelling the narrative from Point A to Point B… but as a purely digital construct, it inherently lacks screen presence and personality. That’s where Esai Morales’ Gabriel is supposed to come in. As the AI’s handpicked flesh-and-blood avatar, he succeeds in providing Ethan with a physical foe with whom to trade blows… but there simply isn’t a whole lot of substance to him beyond this superficial function; essentially, he’s as anonymous and forgettable as the literally faceless computer program to which he’s pledged his fealty. And considering Hunt is implied to have a personal vendetta against him (owing to an encounter in their mutually mysterious past,  briefly glimpsed via poorly integrated flashbacks), this is a glaring flaw.

I assume that Gabriel, at least, will be further developed in the upcoming sequel, currently scheduled for a 2024 release. Fortunately, this is the sole thread that remains unresolved; unlike Across the Spider-Verse, which abruptly ends mid-scene, Dead Reckoning Part One arrives at an organic conclusion—the only “cliffhanger” here is the mangled wreckage of the Orient Express. And that sense of closure makes the wait for the next chapter significantly more tolerable.

[lgcminseo]

one-take wonder

Her eyes flutter shut for the second granted to her while the microphones were checked by the filming crew. Her fingers reach up to touch the zipper pull tab of her sweater, nervously sliding it up and down. Minseo was silently dreading the signal of the staff behind her to begin exploring the set in front of her. She found it cruel to not let the trainees prepare ahead before being pushed into the unknown, but didn't she want to be an actress? Improvisation was a skill that trainees were taught from every angle, but more so in the acting workshops that she religiously attended on Saturdays.

There was no point in dwelling about her lack of acting experience. She knew that her over-the-top, vivid imagination could successfully carry her through the challenge ahead of her, or cause her to stumble through the sets like mumbling mess. Again, she should have known better than to preemptively minimize how she would feel if she fumbled the acting challenge. Maybe running in the opposite direction wasn't such a bad idea. Her brother would have advised her to take a deep breath and to have fun, which is what she proceeded to do. A shakily exhale escapes past her lips before she straightens her posture, coincidently when she receives the signal to begin.

PART 1: OH, FOREST.

Minseo stumbles into the center of the set, slowly circling around in the spot until she pauses, lifting her right hand to cover her eyes from the blinding light that she envisions above her. Her lips parts to speak, but no words can be muster from her shocking discovery. Her hand drops back to her side, eyeing the elaborate sky above her with utter despair. Her attention abruptly shifts behind her, making eye-contact with the 'person' that appears behind her. "T-The clouds—" Her tone is shaky, taking several steps away from the entrance of the set as if she was being cornered by another person and closer to the end of the trail towards the new set. "They aren't moving. The clouds aren't moving. Where have you brought me?!" She finally raises her voice, loud enough to make herself flinch. "That tree is where I carved my name, and I have passed it several times trying to find my way out." "Who are you?" Her eyes narrowing at the corners, raising her arms to protect herself from the other person. "S-Stay away from me!"

PART 2: HOME SWEET HOME.

The next set is straightforward for Minseo, who barges into the living room with a gloomy demeanor that matches the weather outside of her window. She removes her sneakers and comfortably plops down on the sofa. She completely lays down on her side, burying her face against one of the pillows for a brief moment. "Why hasn't he called?" She mumbles and holds herself up with the arm of the sofa, eventually sitting upright, but not before kicking her legs out underneath the sofa and hitting her foot with one of the legs. She inhales sharply, eyes stinging and brimming with tears on the lashes. From the pain, or from the heartbreak? "I don't even remember his voice..." Minseo whispers, bottom of her lip jutting outwards in a soft pout. She brings up her socked foot to massage her toes, reaching for the pillow beside her to hug against her chest. "I'm not going to wait around for him. I refuse—" Her resolve quickly vanishes, softly whining out-loud the following: "Why hasn't he called me?"

PART 3: HUH?

Her fingers play with the light switch on the wall, testing out whether the electricity was truly off before venturing further into the abandoned kitchen. Minseo spots the frying pan on the floor, scrambling to grab it and hold it in front of her in preparation of anyone sneaking up on her. "I have a weapan and I'm not afraid to use it!" She exclaims not only loudly, but deeply as she could, mimicking her brother's voice. She comically swings the pan out in front of her, rushing by the stove when she hears a 'creaking' noise. She shakes her head, eyeing the cabinet door next to the stove. "Nope." Regardless, Minseo steps forward and swings the cabinet door open with the frying pan to reveal the culprit behind the noise. "Huh, a raccoon?!" Her bewilderment is cut short as she hurriedly heads to the next set in fear.

PART 4: NEW GIRL

Minseo begins the scene with her sitting on the desk, sliding off it to stand properly as the corner of her lips tugs upwards into a faint smirk. It disappears when a loud, piercing scream escapes her lips and cuts through the silence of the classroom set. Her hands reach up to mess with her hair out of frustration. "Do you seriously think you can make me your errand girl?" She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. "You and I. We are not the same. You should have tried to get to know me before letting your inferiority complex let you act foolish." She takes her frustration by kicking the desk that she had been sitting on, allowing it for to the desk beside it. "You won't walk over me, or anyone else in this classroom. Find another hobby with your friends before I show you how crazy I can be." "I'm Sejeong, by the way." She flashes a bright smile to her 'classmate,' dragging the desk that she had kicked back to its original. "Let's get along for the remainder of the year."

[rheawritessometimes]

{ Childe x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } Childe gets an owie while sparing. Series Masterlist

{ Warnings } Violence, Swearing, Angry Reader, Injury, Physical Intimacy (Kissing).

{ Notes } Hurting Childe just a little because he refused to come home for me. Lost the 50/50. Reader is a sword user. Reader is suggested to be the Traveler. Self-indulgent again because all my writing is. This one is a real trainwreck but I didn't want to go too long without posting. Something better than nothing? Masterlist

{ Word Count } 2,404

Meeting Childe at the Golden House every week had been your routine for a while now. Right after you had defeated him the first time, he immediately begged you to train with him and you gave in, unable to bear those puppy-dog eyes. And the entire week he spent pestering you about it.

The whole fiasco with Osial had been put behind the both of you. It was probably true that you were too quick to forgive Childe, but he was just so charming. Not to mention he often paid for your meals, suggesting going out to eat after your sessions or if he saw you around the harbor. On a few occasions, you had been out eating with friends or on your own and found he had picked up your tab.

Since Liyue hadn't been destroyed and you got free food out of it, you really weren't all too upset about the situation. The Snezhnayan was actually pretty easy to get along with when Fatui matters weren't involved. He made you laugh too, so you supposed you could tolerate the once-weekly sparing sessions with him.

Childe called it sparing, but normal people didn't spar with actual weapons and fight like they were going to kill their partner. At first, you had tried to convince him it would be much better and safer for the both of you to use practice weapons instead of sharpened blades and arrows. He was quick to decline, saying something about both of you being competent enough not to get seriously hurt. You thought about refuting that on the basis that he had yet to beat you even once.

Even so, every week you found yourself pushing through the doors to the chamber Childe was always patiently waiting in. You'd never gotten there before him and wondered if he intentionally came early. You wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, he probably paced the room plotting his seemingly unobtainable victory.

The hydro vision paired with his combat experience and skill made him a difficult opponent, but he didn't seem terribly good at strategy. He might have been careless because it wasn't a real fight, but somehow you doubted that. He seemed the type to always give it his all. It could be that was his problem, since his loss usually came due to his exhaustion. Maybe if he didn't spend so much energy trying to show off he'd actually be a proper challenge.

"You're finally here," Childe proclaimed dramatically, voice echoing off the walls, "I thought you might have gotten lost on the way or something. Was starting to worry I'd need to go out and rescue you."

"I'm fifteen minutes early, Childe. How long have you been waiting?" you asked dryly, raising your eyebrow questioningly. You took a moment to shrug your adventuring pack off your shoulders and drop it near the door. You rolled your shoulders, relieved to be free of the weight.

"Ahah, anyways, we should get started. I have some business to attend to today," he responded, indiscreetly ignoring your question. It shouldn't have been very surprising that he didn't wait for your response before sending an arrow flying in your direction, but he'd always waited for you to signal you were ready before starting in the past.

Materializing your sword out of habit more than anything else, you raised it to block the arrow with the flat of the blade. The arrow bounced off the metal with a weak dink, clattering to the ground. If you'd reacted a moment later it would have pierced you.

You shot Childe a dirty look, irate from the cheap shot. He responded by grinning wider and taking aim again. You silently promised that he would face your wrath shortly.

Advancing towards him, you swatted the arrow flying your way with your sword. A bow would be less effective at close range, so you intended to close the distance. The redhead laughed, a hint of nervousness creeping into the sound at the pace of your advance. Or perhaps it was the building rage in your eyes.

The bow dematerialized, now Childe held dual hydro-blades in his hands in anticipation of close combat. Once in range, he immediately swiped at you with a blade. You stepped back out of the way, quickly bringing up your sword to parry the next slash coming from the opposite blade.

Childe seemed encouraged by you backing away, a smug look crossing his face. You furrowed your brows, he was so unthoughtful. He insists on using real weapons, shoots at you before you're ready, and now he has the audacity to get cocky.

You raise your blade to swing down at him and he catches your sword on crossed hydro-blades. He lets out a little huff of air, not expecting you to strike with such force, but his arms hold steady. You swiftly draw your blade back to slash at him again. Thorough training has you swiping at him with practiced ease while Childe is forced to switch to the defensive.

It gives you a sort of satisfaction to see his expression change to one of worry, it was your first time seeing such a look on him. You had no intention of actually hurting him, but it was nice to scare him a little. Maybe after this, he'd take the dangers of sparing with actual weapons a little more seriously. But probably not.

You're hardly thinking when his hydro-blades finally fail to parry your blows, the flat of your blade slamming into the side of his chest resulting in a soft crack barely loud enough to reach your ears. A look of surprise crosses your face when he lets out a pained grunt, what had happened finally being processed in your mind.

Immediately you drop your sword, ignoring it as it clatters to the ground before dematerializing. You were internally relieved to see his hydro-blades dissipate too, it would have been terribly unsportsmanly of him to stab you now. Stepping forward on instinct, you pause as you realize you're not exactly sure what to do.

Childe clutches his chest as he coughs a few times and a flood of panic washes over you. If you broke his ribs, his lungs could have been punctured. That would be bad.

"Fuck, that hurts," he huffed out before he attempted to gingerly sit down, right in the middle of the Golden House. Childe winced at the movement, but he managed to settle, leaning on his arms for support. His breathing was heavy from the strain of sparing and you felt extremely guilty, broken ribs had a tendency to hurt terribly and pain would flare up with every breath. At least he seemed to be breathing okay, so his lungs were probably intact.

"Let me get something to ease the pain," you said hastily, jogging towards the door to grab your bag. Your first thought was to numb him up before bringing him to Bubu Pharmacy to get some proper help.

"Aw, are you actually worried about me?" he cooed teasingly, maintaining that signature annoying grin despite the pain that followed him speaking. It was easy to ignore him as you rummaged through your bag for something useful.

It crossed your mind that it would be exceedingly difficult to get him all the way back to Liyue if you gave him anything strong. That limited your options rather greatly, adding that on to your lacking medical knowledge and limited variety of resources left you with fewer options than you would have liked. He probably could make it back without any anesthetic but it would be slow and you'd feel terrible for it.

Even with your lack of selection, you were thankful to have some knowledge and materials for this sort of thing, adventuring made you better at improvising and you learned a lot along the way. Taking everything into consideration, you decided it would be best to go with something topical. You could make a salve to numb up the area and then hopefully drag him to Bubu Pharmacy.

"I'm really sorry, Childe," you apologized, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh don't worry about it, this isn't the first time I've broken my ribs. Probably won't be the last, either," he replied with a laugh, which caused him to wince. You only frowned at him as you pulled out some plants to grind up. A rock would have worked, but you kept a mortar and pestle for this kind of thing after realizing you'd be doing it often.

You were soon mashing some leaves and a few petals into a paste, with some water Childe so graciously provided. Having a hydro user around was rather convenient when practicing field medicine.

"Whatcha makin'?" Childe asks after a short period of silence, leaning over to get a closer look. You wonder if he's actually curious or if he just can't tolerate the quiet. It seemed the two of you were always talking when you were together, save for when your sparing got too intense to spare the breath.

"A salve to numb you up so I can drag you to Bubu Pharmacy," you responded, still mostly focused on getting the paste to the right consistency.

"What? No, I can't go. I've got work to do," he argued, moving to stand up now.

You were quick to grab his wrist to prevent him from getting up, furrowing your brows. Childe paused, waiting for your explanation.

"You have at least one broken rib, whatever you need to do can wait," you told him sternly, maintaining eye contact. He turned his gaze away from you to hum in contemplation. He knew well enough that giving injuries time to heal was important, but so was his job.

"Fine, I guess what I was supposed to do today isn't that important," he relented, leaning back into a comfortable position once more. Childe had a feeling that if he had insisted on working you'd have found a way to stop him anyway.

"Can you take off your shirt?" you asked, trying to sound as casual and not awkward as possible once you were satisfied with the consistency of the paste. You would have offered to allow him to apply it himself but you figured it would be less painful this way, plus you'd need to bandage his chest afterward, so it didn't make much of a difference.

"Oh my, you're not usually this bold," he teased, reaching to begin undoing the clasps holding his jacket together. His remark made you decide against offering your assistance despite the awareness that even just wriggling out of the jacket probably hurt. It's okay to be a little petty sometimes. As a treat.

Once his torso was bare you shifted your position to be a bit closer and examined his side. There was already the beginning of bruising, but it would get much darker by tomorrow. You ignored the scars and other bruises that were present, very aware of the fact the redhead would tease you for staring if you looked any longer.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you assured, "But it'll probably hurt a little."

Childe just hummed, waving off your warning, so you gathered some of the salve on your fingers. You silently wished you'd had gloves that weren't absorbent with you so your hands wouldn't grow numb later.

It was a quick process of spreading the paste over his ribs, but his eyes remained on you the entire time. You couldn't be sure if he was just interested in what you were doing, but it surprised you that he remained entirely silent.

"It'll take a little while to numb up. I'm going to bandage your chest for support. This will hurt more," you informed him, dragging your pack towards you to dig out a roll of bandages.

"Don't worry, I'm a tough boy," he laughed in response, and you could only smile and shake your head at him. You had faith in his strength, but that didn't stop the guilt you felt over being responsible for his pain. It did make you feel better when he started reminiscing on past injuries he'd sustained in battle once you began bandaging him. How he could look back on them so fondly was a mystery to you.

At first, you were mindful to touch him as little as possible while you were wrapping the bandages. They needed to be a little tight to provide support but you tried to ensure they put as little pressure on his ribs as possible. Unfortunately, your fingers started to grow numb and you hadn't realized you'd been bandaging too tightly until Childe let out a soft grunt of pain.

"Fuck, sorry," you apologized, quickly unraveling the last section of bandaging to rewrap it more loosely.

"Don't worry about it," he said, thinking for a moment before adding, "But, if you want to make it up to me, a kiss would make me feel better."

Pausing in your ministrations, you looked up to see a cheeky grin on his face. You raised a brow, giving him an entirely unimpressed expression. It wasn't entirely uncommon for him to flirt like this, trying to get a reaction out of you. But as you reached one hand up to gently grab his chin, it was his turn to become flustered.

Leaning up, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before moving away and releasing your hold on him. You patted his cheek twice, giving him an amused grin.

"You're welcome."

"Hey! That doesn't count!" Childe immediately whined, pouting at you. You could only laugh at his playful antics as you finally finished wrapping his chest.

"You're cruel, you know that?" the Snezhnayan grumbled, eyebrows still furrowed as he continued to pout. He really did seem like a spoiled kid at this moment and you laughed again, causing his frown to deepen.

You knew his demeanor was all theatrical, but as you stared at his expression you found yourself leaning towards him again. You gently pressed your lips to his, smiling into the kiss when his hands eagerly flew up to your face. You indulged in the kiss for a few moments, smirking when he followed you as you pulled away. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you halted his attempt to continue.

"You can have another kiss once you get checked out at Bubu Pharmacy."

-

If you read all that, I'm sorry lol. I wanted to spend more time on it but I don't want to take too long posting things. Anyways, if you have any better ideas for what I should write send them in. Please.

There's a part two now: Part 2

[home-sweet-hive]

A Secretive Reunion

Chapter 1 - One Night's Enough

Written by Ash Rose

CW/TW: Swearing, Discussion of Workplace Discrimination

Summary:

With Doctor Eggman's latest scheme to take over the world seeming to be actually successful for once, the Freedom Fighters have sent out a request to make a temporary merger with their allies The Chaotix and GUN's Team Dark to create "The Resistance". But the night before Rouge and Shadow of Team Dark are to depart to The Resistance HQ in Knothole, Shadow is met by a sudden, yet familiar visitor. The meeting, which no one but Shadow and the visitor know of, spawns a secret plan that could very easily make the job of taking Eggman down much easier, but could just as easily cause irreversible damage to the reputation of Shadow and The Resistance as a whole if uncovered...

Notes:

This chapter features some lyrics from the songs "Pain" and "On My Own" by Three Days Grace!

This fanfic uses she/they pronouns for Shadow and depicts her as a trans girl, as well as using they/them pronouns for Eclipse, Tails & Sonic

Use that info however you please! :]

As night faded in, about a dozen cars drove through the streets of Station Square. The street lights illuminating as they passed by, blocking out any chance the stars could have to offer their natural light onto an ungrateful world.

Such words of malice upon human behavior were scripted into a journal in a song-like array, in a haphazard melody improvised by the mind of one mere hedgehog-like alien creature. Like the being's own mobian-esque exterior, the covers of the journal hid a gruesome inside, melancholic sonnets of misery, coated in hatred and violence. If anyone other than Shadow themself were to see the things written within, there's no doubt that her livelihood and even her life itself would be called into jeopardy.

The piece, tonight, was lacking inspiration. Not that such a thing mattered much, as it was not like Shadow would be performing these anywhere, as even lyrics aside, their skills on guitar are elementary at best, but regardless, the drive simply was not there. Accepting such, Shadow put down the pen and closed the journal, tucking both items neatly back into their hiding spots, and instead powered on her CD player.

As she prepared for a night alone listening to music other people had made, Shadow noticed a pile of clothing stacked on top of an untouched bed. Figuring that Rouge must have dropped them off before leaving with the rest for the GUN company dinner, they diligently began to sort the clothes into smaller piles.

Suddenly, however, Shadow laid eyes upon a small plastic shopping bag that had been snuck into the pile, coming packaged with a small note attached.

"Hey Shadow,

I finally got around to giving my closet a good cleaning, so here's those padded bras of mine I said I'd let you have. (They're washed! Don't worry!!)

I hope you enjoy them! I can't wait to see what kind of punk girl looks you can pull off with them!

I'm so proud of you Shadow, you're the coolest girl I've ever met. (I'm a close second, though! ;) )

Sincerely, your bestie Rouge. <3"

Shadow teared up as she read the note, feeling the rare sense of being truly, authentically loved by someone, and wore a smile on their face as they opened up the bag and picked out one of the bras.But her smile quickly faded as they failed to get it on, struggling to reach behind their back to secure the clip. Each and every bra was like this, so Shadow was forced to admit defeat, and set them all aside for Rouge to help with when she returns.

As the music played on, and as Shadow sorted her clothes, putting together various outfits, they started to sing along to the song, feeling the lyrics stab into her with such accuracy to their woes, and yet, the metaphorical knife in which emotionally pierced Shadow's heart felt warm and oddly comforting. Shadow knew she must've listened to this album at least a thousand times, and this specific song a thousand more, but as the chorus began to play, Shadow belted along in solidarity the same as they always did, as the lyrics echoed true to her very soul.

"Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all~!"

Soon discarding the chore entirely with reckless abandonment, Shadow grabbed whatever microphone-like object was closest and began to put on an entire performance for no one but herself.

But as the bridge of the song kicked into gear, a feeling of uneasiness collided into Shadow. Was it their voice? It was indeed at times a trigger for her gender dysphoria. Shadow decided to stop singing as to let these feelings subside.

But despite this, she still heard a voice sing, and it wasn't just the vocals on the track.

It was then that it hit her. Without even turning down the music, they turned to the doorway with fervent anger, yelling out the name of the one who had infiltrated GUN'S headquarters.

"Eclipse?!"

"Shadow, it's been awhile." The villainous alien said calmly in response.

"What the hell are YOU doing here?!" Shadow continued to shout.

"I heard you'd be alone for tonight, and I thought I'd offer up my company~!" Eclipse as well kept their tone of voice, being unbothered by Shadow's rage.

"I-!!" Shadow attempted to argue back, but quickly she realized she could not keep up such fury for much longer, "- ... Were you... singing along?" They instead asked.

"Yes! I hope that wasn't much a bother for you. You listen to that song so much that I've become completely hooked on it myself!" Eclipse answered sincerely. They could tell that Shadow was dumbfounded by such a response, so they opted to clarify, "The music you listen to acts quite similarly to the thoughts you have, it travels all across the hivemind."

"... Huh." Shadow muttered, before sitting herself upon the bed, feeling worn down by this development. Eclipse welcomed themself into the room and sat beside her, and started to look around the bedroom.

Posters plastered about the velvety maroon walls with images varying from a variety of band photos to tapestries dedicated to various different series of anime. Random items of interest from the missions Shadow had gone on throughout the years on high up shelves. A bookshelf filled not with books, but with cases upon cases of video games and music CDs, with a 1990s television and various game consoles placed on top. Dark curtains drapped over the windows, blocking out whatever light tries to shine through it's way. A drawer with several of it's components left open, revealing themselves to be oddly empty, as the mirror placed upon the drawer glimmered without a single spot of imperfection, and lastly, a cardbord box filled with stuffed animals and blankets. It was all quite ordinary, and yet, came together to be, without a single doubt, the perfect living quarters for someone like Shadow.

"I had gotten a decent idea of this place from the hivemind... but it's still quite the experience to see it in person..." Eclipse noted, mouth agape with awe, "I like it." They added, noticing the lack of acknowledgement from Shadow.

"Uhm... Th-Thanks..?" She answered reluctantly, "But you're not supposed to be here." They added bluntly.

"Do you not think I'm aware of that? Rules are meant to be broken, sister." Eclipse responded without hesitancy. Sister... such a word made Shadow feel euphoria rush through her whole body.

"... You know, too?" Shadow inquired, becoming captivated by her own happiness.

"Of course I do." Eclipse replied simply, loving the treat of getting to feel Shadow’s joy.

"... Guess there is an advantage to this whole... "hivemind" thing, afterall." Shadow said with a slight chuckle.

"An advantage that doesn't help you eradicate your own people, too! Who would've thought!" Eclipse added sarcastically, some pent up feelings of betrayal leaking into their words. Eclipse immediately wished they could take those words back as they felt and saw the happiness from Shadow fade, but the only thing they could do now was to apologize, "S-sorry, I-"

"No, I don't want to hear your apology." Shadow croaked.

"But-"

"Your apology is unneeded. I know what I've done." Shadow added, her body shivering.

The two did not speak again for a few minutes, letting the music playing from Shadow's CD player be the only noise made. But eventually, Eclipse began to sing along to one of the songs as it played.

"Standing on my own, remembering the one I left at home~"

Shadow couldn't help but succumb to the urge to join in, to which Eclipse responded with by lowering their own voice, giving her the floor.

"Forget about the life I used to know~"

But then Eclipse joined back in, the two dueting with each other, an action that was intentional this time around.

"Forget about the one I left at home~"

"So, now-"

"I'm standing here alone~"

"I'm learning how to live life on my own~"

Exchanging lyrics back and forth, the two sung with passion as they felt themselves becoming closer with one another.

Song after song, the album carried on as they became more comfortable, grinning with dorky excitement as they learned to enjoy each other's company.

But this fun-filled karaoke night couldn't last forever, as it wasn't long until the end of the album was reached. Shadow was tempted to rewind the CD to the beginning, to simply give the same experience another go, not unlike how she often wished to relive the few hours they got to spend among the Black Arms troops on the New Black Comet. But they had a different idea in mind.

But before she could act upon that idea, Eclipse looked over to the small pile of neglected bras, and picked one of them up.

"This article of clothing looks... impractical for one to put on alone." They mumbled.

"Oh, I'm waiting for Rouge to get back to help me get it on..." Shadow replied.

"But why wait for her? I understand thinking that way when you thought you were alone, but you have me here now." Eclipse said, turning to Shadow as they vaguely hinted towards a suggestion.

"Thanks, but no thanks." Shadow turned down the offer quite bluntly.

"Why not, hmm?" Eclipse queried.

"I don't like my chest and I don't like showing it to people I'm not close to, alright!" Shadow snapped.

Eclipse stood silently for a moment, and then looked away and sighed.

"Understood... m-my apologies..." Spoken in a tone of such regret, it rippled through Shadow without a single break between waves of pain.

"Seriously, stop being so nice to me." She immediately protested.

"Why shouldn't I? You're my sister in arms! You deserve-" Eclipse began to argue back, but Shadow stopped them.

"I don't deserve shit! Not even the title of 'sister'! I've caused so much hurt to the Black Arms, and you acting rude to me at least gives me some sort of false sense of justification for it all!" They suddenly yelled out, causing Eclipse to bump into the bookshelf of anything but books, all except for one book that Eclipse hadn't seen before, which fell to the ground.

"Oh dear! I'll get that for you-" Eclipse offered as they went to pick up the book, but Shadow intercepted them and grabbed the book herself, begging them to not touch it through panicked mumblings. After a moment of silence, Eclipse spoke again, "I sense that there's something quite personal in that book... no?"

Shadow shivered at such a question, but then took a long, drought out breath through gritted teeth.

"I... I don't feel welcome in humanity anymore..." She nervously admitted, "B-before we crashed the New Black Comet, the Commander called me out by name... T-to explain what I info I may have had about it... Everyone was... s-staring at me... They all looked at me like I was s-some kind of... F-freak of nature...!!" They continued, tears starting to form in her eyes, "That... that was the subject of my very first entry into this journal..." She put the journal in question into Eclipse's line of sight, "A song of how I felt so isolated that night..."

"A song?" Eclipse inquired.

"I-It isn't really that good... I'm no professional..." Shadow clarified, giving a soft chuckle.

"Still, that's something that takes quite a lot of creativity. I... admittedly never quite expected such a thing from you." Eclipse continued, "I haven't gotten the chance to just... talk with you, to exist with you, ever since the whole... New Black Comet thing. I haven't gotten to chance to learn about you, beyond what I had known from the masters." They got closer to Shadow, taking hold of one of her hands, "I'm very grateful that I've finally got the chance to do so tonight." Eclipse smiled as they completed their statement, but Shadow only started to tear up even more and pulled away from her brethren's grasp.

"But I stayed in this hell because I was convinced that the Black Arms hated me and wanted me dead for what I had done to them! A-and I was right, too! They all hated me! ... E-Except for you..." Shadow lamented, turning back to Eclipse, "You were so... Desperate to convert me...! I... I hated it! But... I loved it, too... I... Y-you believed in me... You still loved me... Even after all that I did, even though you were CREATED TO KILL ME! It... it was a warmth that hurt me so... like a fire..." Shadow wiped the tears from their eyes, "When we met again on Angel Island, it had seemed that your sympathy had ran it's limit... that you had finally given up on me... It hurt, if I'm honest, but... At least I had my only excuse back-" Shadow continued on, being interrupted by a hug from Eclipse.

"I'll admit, I had my doubts... I let my anger consume me... But I could still feel your anguish... Those songs in your journal echoed through our souls... I knew that hope was not lost just yet... I'm sorry that you had ever believed that I had ever given up on you, sister..."

"... But what am I to do now? There's no one left but us...." Shadow asked.

"That's what you thought when you had slain Black Doom, and look what happened after!" Eclipse responded.

"... I wish I could have your sheer level of optimism, Eclipse." Shadow sighed, finally putting the journal back in it's spot.

"You never know, sister. Though, even if you are right, and we are the last of the Black Arms... We could start again!"

"And how would that go about?" Shadow scoffed.

"... I know you believe it is hopeless... that you are to be forever trapped in GUN's command... But would you for once hear me out? I'm only trying to help you!" Eclipse begged.

"Look, you don't understand, Eclipse! There's just not enough time! Even if we tried to start some sort of restoration tonight, it would all go to waste!" Shadow shouted, leaving Eclipse dumbfounded.

"... You're right, Shadow. I don't understand. Could you explain to me why you believe that nothing can be done to restore our relationship and species?" They asked calmly.

"Rouge and I are traveling out to Knothole tomorrow. The Doctor has launched yet another world domination plan... which usually wouldn't be that much of a concern, but things are going... differently than usual." Shadow began to explain.

"How so?"

"Sonic had a battle with a new foe employed by The Doctor a few weeks ago... They were defeated in the fight, and taken captivate. Because of this, the Freedom Fighters have surmised that they can no longer handle The Doctor's forces on their own, and have requested assistance from the Chaotix and Team Dark... and the Team Dark part includes me."

"Oh... wait, you said you and Rouge were going. What of Omega?"

"Omega is already at Knothole, he attempted to face off The Doctor's forces on his own and got his ass handed to him. Tails is repairing him."

"... You're throwing around quite a few names I don't know, but I think I understand now." Eclipse said, nodding.

"Yeah... sorry, 'Clip... I really am..." Shadow sighed, trying to prevent herself from getting too upset, "At least we have tonight. One night's enough to at least not have our story end on a bitter note..." They added, trying to be positive despite everything.

"... No. One night is not enough. Not for me." Eclipse protested, standing up to look out the windows of Shadow's room.

"Eclipse.... Please..."

"The Doctor you speak of, I believe I am somewhat aware of him. The grandson of Gerald Robotnik, who had turned his back on us and our Dark Lord in his final days. That Doctor carries on with such betrayal, attacking us when we attempted to conquer this planet. He will pay for these transgressions."

"Where are you going with this, exactly?"

"The Black Arms fight alongside one another as a union! If we are indeed the last ones, then it would be of the late masters' wishes for us to fight as a union as they once did! When you arrive to this 'Knothole' place, tell me through the hivemind. The Dark Arms and I will arrive at your location as soon as we can. You will not be able to recognize us by looks, but you will feel our presence. We will work together to bring about The Doctor's downfall!" Eclipse explained.

".... You came up with that quickly." Shadow said, stunned.

"I always have a trick up my sleeve, sister. I am almost constantly thinking ahead." Eclipse responded, smirking.

"You're the brains to my brawn, you could say." Shadow suggested, to which Eclipse scoffed.

"Oh please, you're plenty intelligent yourself. Don't sell yourself short Shadow, for we are both Ultimate Lifeforms!" They insisted, pulling Shadow into a side hug.

From outside, the sounds of parked cars began. A few dozen GUN agents began to pile out from their vehicles and started to enter the building.

"That's my signal to get going." Eclipse noted bluntly, to which Shadow agreed, "I for one was hoping to hear one of those songs of yours before I had to go, but alas."

"Maybe one day, 'Clip. But now you need to go." Shadow sputtered, being diligent in making sure all trace of Eclipse was gone before someone were to enter the room.

A few minutes after Eclipse had teleported away, Rouge entered the room with a takeout box of food in one of her hands.

"Heeey!! How was your evening home alone, hun?" She asked in that all too familiar sassy tone of hers.

"It was alright. I listened to some music, I... organized my clothes." It had just occurred to Shadow that she had forgotten to pack their stuff into her suitcase.

"I see, I see... Was kinda hopin' you were gonna say you like, had a friend over or somethin' like that..." Rouge admitted, sighing.

"Huh?! W-Why would you-" Shadow began to question in a panic.

"I dunno girl, I just wish you would be more social, I guess!"

"Anyway, what's that you have there?" Shadow inquired, pointing to the plastic tin as they changed the subject.

"Oh! I got you an order from the restaurant we went to! I hope that's cool with you." Rouge answered.

"Are you kidding?! Of course that's cool with me!! Fuck - I hadn't even realized I was starving!!" Shadow raved, rushing to grab the tin to see what was inside. It was a large bagel sandwich, split into two halves, with a side of salty french fries.

"Oh, also..." Rouge reached into her pocket and pulled out a can of ginger ale, "I know it's not that cold, but there's ice in the HQ's kitchen."

"Th-thank you!" Shadow gushed, her tail wagging.

"By the way, how'd those bras treat ya?" Rouge queried.

"I couldn't get any of them on... could you uh... lend a hand?" Shadow mumbled, embarrassed.

"Shit, hun! Of course! Big sis Rouge will help ya with any of your girl needs!" Rouge declared with a chuckle.

The Next Day

Amy and Knuckles were making one last assessment around the base of the newly established "Resistance", making sure that everyone from all three groups coming together were in attendance, when they heard a knock at their door.

"Ah, are you lost? You really shouldn't be here-" Amy said as she opened the door, not wanting to endanger any civilians.

"Is this the HQ of the Resistance?" The stranger asked quite bluntly, and yet, politely.

"Y-Yes. Why do you ask?" Amy answered hesitantly.

"I'd like to help you all with defeating The Doctor."

"We aren't taking recruits, buddy! Besides, you could just be one of Eggman's robots trying to infiltrate!" Knuckles yelled harshly.

"Hold on!" Amy protested, " 'The Doctor'? Are you friends with Shadow by chance? They're the only person I've ever heard call Eggman that before!" Amy inquired.

"Indeed I am! You could go find her right now and I know she'd tell you the same!" The stranger testified, "By the way, you may call me Rookie, Rookie the Hedgehog. They/them pronouns."

"If you say so, Rookie!" Amy agreed, before walking off to go find Shadow. "Rookie" followed behind, doing their best to ignore the eye roll Knuckles gave.

Amy and "Rookie" eventually found Shadow, and she backed up "Rookie's" story, just as they said she would. Feeling content, Amy decided to approve "Rookie" joining the Resistance, amd Knuckles reluctantly signed off on the order as well.

"You should go meet up with Tails some time today, Rookie! I couldn't help but notice that you've brought some wisps with you, and they've been working on some type of arsenal that utilizes their power! I think it's called a "Wispon"? I'm not good with that kind of stuff!" Amy suggested to "Rookie" before she took off to attend to other matters.

"Fascinating! I'll be sure to meet up with them as soon as I find the time!" "Rookie" responded, intrigued.

Shadow smiled and chuckled slightly as they watched Amy hurry off.

"I'll admit, I'm surprised that worked." Shadow said telepathically.

"But I'm glad it did. I'm sure things would have quickly devolved into pointless fighting if I attempted to offer my assistance without this "Rookie" disguise." Eclipse responded, speaking telepathically as well, "I will not allow anyone to get in the way of fighting alongside my sister in arms, nor will I allow anyone to stop us from getting the vengeance against the Robotnik family that we deserve!"

"Yes, yes, of course." Shadow snickered, "But you... ARE excluding Maria from that, right?"

"Mhm. Maria was the exception, not the rule. You've said that she wanted this world to be a happy one, no? The Doctor's goals are in clear opposition to this wish." Eclipse explained, to which Shadow nodded.

"You're going down, Doctor!"

[kaz-with-hat]

on the topic of your badger vs lion secondary post, what are some differences between badger and snake secondary? the (harry potter) stereotype is that theyre completely different, but theyre more similar than people give them credit for in both being fluid secondaries. and i understand that badgers are a prepwork secondary, but ive heard badgers say that they can thrive in improv situations because their prepwork is in the people around them. thoughts?

This ask is ironic because Snake is the one Secondary I do not understand at all. Lion? Bird? They're not who I am deep down but I get them, they make sense to me, I can use them in a pinch - Bird is both fun and useful while Lion is my "break glass in case of emergency". Snake? Snake is some sort of wizardry beyond my ken.

My suspicion is that Snake and Badger might be a case of Secondaries that can look very similar to the outside observer but are coming from fundamentally different places. Like, the fluid thing - I can easily imagine that this can be hard to tell apart for someone watching. Especially if we get into Exploded Badger, where you can in fact shift pretty strongly and contradict who you were earlier to match the other person. That might look pretty Snake!

But the thing is that a Courtier Badger is not acting. In that way, Badger is more similar to Lion than Snake, IMO - you're always being authentically you. It's just that "you" is a fluid concept. Certain parts are magnified and others tucked away depending on who you're talking to and the overall vibe of the group, but to a certain point that just feels natural? And at least for me it's not really happening consciously, I don't decide "oh I think this person I'm talking to needs an extra dose of tech geek Kaz and extra emotional intensity but to go minimal on sarcastic Kaz" or whatever. You just sort of see how the person acts and automatically shift to bring out the parts of yourself (or, when Exploded, create the parts of yourself) that suit that. My understanding from what Snakes have said is that their shifting is a lot more deliberate and calculated and there's a lot more distance there.

(more on Badgers improvising on familiar territories and how "integrity of method" can actually include some Snakey elements below cut)

The improv thing is interesting, because the analogy I actually want to draw here is to Rapid-Fire Bird. Namely: I think the Built secondaries can be capable of quick shifting and dealing with things on the fly, but it needs to be in an area where they have something built already. From a Badger perspective, it's like - the stronger your foundation, the less necessary it becomes for you to build and plan every little detail of what you need in advance, the more likely a rough idea of where you're going is enough, and the more likely it is that you can react to something quickly because you're on such familiar ground. Like, when I'm at work, I know that I got this. I have the skills and background, I've built up the expertise, I know that if I don't know something right away I know where to find it out, I have the trust of my teammates... so I can roll with the punches and try out various tactics to solve a problem, and also leave stuff unplanned knowing I'll be able to figure it out when it happens. This sounds similar to what you're saying about Badgers thriving in improv because their prep work is in the people around them, and this might look Snake to the outside observer? But it's extremely situational, it's only possible because we're in my territory here. I have absolutely no clue how Snakes pull this off without that basis. My Lion model is pretty much actively terrifying to use due to that lack of something to draw on, it feels like I'm jumping in the deep end - and at least that's straightforward, you just pick a direction and start going. Snakes just, like, do the adaptability/try a bunch of different tactics/find a path around obstacles thing in completely unfamiliar situations? I... but... how.

One last point where I think the two might look similar but get there in completely different ways: what exactly the Badger's "integrity of method" is can vary a lot. I think a lot of people who hear this might think that it's always about throwing more and more effort at the problem to solve it. But the Right Way to solve something can include "don't reinvent the wheel, make sure there isn't an existing solution you can use for this before you start solving it yourself". Or "try a few different approaches to make sure you've found the best/most efficient/most elegant one." Or "don't sink too much effort into trying to find the absolute perfect solution right off. It's more important to get something that works in place now and then come back to improve on it over time." To an outside observer, this could look Snakey - you're stopping and trying different things before you settle on the best way to solve something, you're borrowing things other people have done to save yourself effort, you're showing up with rough solutions that handle the problem but could really be refined. But it's coming from a very different place, with Badger doing these things because it's the right way (and, therefore, likely to do things like try different approaches even if the first one worked OK, or go to a lot of effort to make sure there's no solution already available even when making their own wouldn't be that hard), while the Snake is more goal-oriented and doing these things because they're trying to find the path that gets them to their destination quickest.

(...rereading the above paragraph I'm like: how obvious is it that I'm a software developer...)

Conclusion: even if in certain contexts the end result looks the same, Snakes remain magic beyond my comprehension. Sorry anon!

[dailycharacteroption]

Combat Expertise Envoy (Envoy Alternate Class Feature)

(art by gabahadatta on DeviantArt)

 The name “envoy” for a class is a bit deceptive, bringing to mind diplomats or messengers, but the class that we see in Starfinder is hardly just an errand boy or worldly politician. Indeed, the envoy can be anything from the aforementioned roles to being a charming and improvising smuggler, a roving nomad, or any sort of career or lack of one where a person might pick up a myriad of useful skills and charms.

Indeed, it is that focus on skills over combat that sets it apart, though admittedly the envoy ends up also being somewhat forgettable, not having the same “stealthy agent” vibe of the operative, the might of martial classes, nor the supernatural powers of more mystical classes (albeit, not by default. Plenty of envoys pick up some mystical abilities thanks to being jacks of all trades, either with various class choices, or by way of alternate class features)

Today, however, we will focus on how some envoys attempt to rectify their limited combat ability. Rather than use their knack for being skillful to improve certain skills, instead they focus on applying those skills in combat to get an extra edge.

This variant naturally comes from the same logic as the operative’s trick attack, representing an envoy who’s expertise they have learned to employ in battle. The hacker who disrupts the technological defenses of their foes, the diplomat who knows just the right insult to leave a foe shocked and wide open for a blow, and so on.

With this in mind, this alternate class feature is perfect for a character who is not a combatant by trade that nonetheless can hold their own not by ignoring their skills for the unfamiliar weaponry, but rather lean into them to secure victory.

 Essentially, the way this alternate class feature works is that you choose a skill from a short list, allowing you to use that skill and later ones you choose before making a single attack. If the check succeeds and the attack hits, the envoy adds the expertise die that they would have to the damage, making it similar to the operative trick attack. However, while they cannot use the expertise dice for the skill itself, they do still count as having it, allowing them to take expertise talents based on those skills. Certain such talents have abilities based on choosing not to use your expertise dice on those skills in order to gain the appropriate benefits. In the case of this alternate class feature, those talents instead work whenever you choose not to use the expertise die on damage that round, forgoing extra damage for the skill benefit in the same way that normal envoys choose to make skills harder to pull off to get the extra benefit.

A simple alternate class feature that gears the envoy to be a little better at combat in exchange for a bit of their skill utility. The fact that any and all non-combat scenarios are guaranteed to benefit from any applicable expertise talents that are applicable is nice, but not overpowered since they’re not getting expertise die anyway, and the balance of choosing those talents over extra damage does encourage you to think tactically in combat, which an envoy should be doing anyway.

 When you think about it, this alternate kit can range from being intimately familiar with your field of expertise to the point of turning it into a weapon, or it could be used to fulfill the role of “crouching tiger, hidden badass”, with a character who seemingly is inept at combat, but proves otherwise through sheer luck and instinct, or else by hiding the true nature of their skill.

  Phanax-6 is an oceanic trade world that has proven a valuable hub of trade both in orbit and on the surface of the water, with many seaworthy starships floating on the water in flotilla trade-towns. Of course, such trading also leads to thievery and outright piracy, and the native population of undines, descendants of the original colonists infused with the element of water over the generations, have mastered both the art of the deal and the art of combat, able to switch between the two with relative ease even without heavy armor or big guns.

 The Pazinyyk Collective is a trade organization ruled over by a rogue philosopher worm, who uses their resources and cunning to ply a massive trade network, as well as a secret smuggling ring. On the surface, members of the collective almost seem like a religious order instead of a mercantile one, but their peaceful demeanors are merely part of their marketing, and they can be quite ruthless.

 Officially, Sarvo Mallox is a diplomat, and he acts as one in most capacities, meeting with governments and ambassadors to negotiate all manner of accords. However, when negotiation breaks down, he becomes a lethal agent for his people, striking from the shadows to remove their enemies.

[radnewworld]

I will say, off-loading last week to victims other than myself has been a delightful respite. Monday still sucks like a drunken roomba, though! This week, you get one word: Check. However, you have to use as many of its possible meanings as you can.

"... Can I have a garden hoe +1?" The albino's face radiated barely contained glee. He was very clearly working an angle with this character concept and genuinely believed it was novel, but like most newbies, didn't realize he was digging into an established trope. He's played some old Baldur's Gate, so he's not totally in the dark; an easy hook.

"I suppose so," you reply with all the false concern you can muster. Let 'im think that we're only slowly catching on to his scheme. "Let me check to see how that would work-" it's a two handed, 1d8 weapon, the +1 is well within acceptable range. Easy peasy. "- yeah, I think I remember something about improvised weapons." You flip open the book to a random section and skim some text while you mentally preload some hoe jokes. After a moment or two, you find the entry and give Albino the stats on his new toy. He's excited, he's engaged.

Shift focus to check in on Girlfriend; she's not shaking off the first time jitters quite like her pasty boyfriend is. She's trying, but this is all new and she needs something to build the foundation on. Since her fascination with murder mysteries was announced early on, you've built the one-shot to swerve hard into that territory. DnD's utter lack of good mechanics in that regard will actually work in your favor: you can keep everything limited to basic skill checks her character will be good at. You ask some leading questions, make some idle suggestions, and before long she's got her detective character's bones built. You check that mental box and make sure to leave a note to keep alternating between Humorous and Scandanavian Crime Drama Dark.

You've scribbled some notes about a mountain outpost with a limited cast of NPCs and locations: very newbie friendly, very quaint. You check the time and call for a Perception check and start sprinkling clues. You had a plot ready about a devil summoner being the murderer, but it quickly turns into a narrative shoggoth when Albino introduces a thread about a halfling farm cult as part of his backstory and Girlfriend starts pulling on those more than the murder. It takes a bit for Wife to check that aspect and get them back to the easier thread. Hell, she does such a good job, Albino and Girlfriend think it was their idea to put the conspiracy aside in the first place! Wife's a good sport about all this... She's taking on a supporting role and leaving the lion's share of the screen time to the first timers.

When it starts to get real late, you nudge things a bit here and there to let the players put the villain into check... And they only split the party once! The primary threat is neutralized and you end things on a cliffhanger in the hopes of seating the hook in their proverbial fish's mouth. Laughs were had and smiles were aplenty. Overall, you think, a successful first run. They'll almost certainly be down to play again.

Once they're firmly landed in the boat, and have a few more games under their belt, they'll be ready for the harder stuff. You'll be able to put the 5e books away and test the waters for something more complex. Will they become new playtesters for RAD New World? Time will tell.

[btswrckd]

Hunting a Hybrid VI

Black Panther!Hybrid Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Summary:  Four years after it’s made illegal to acquire hybrids as pets, you’re  approached by the daughter of your former employer to hunt down one that  had been gifted to her

Warnings: violence, mentions of past abuse, mentions of blood, slight fluff, angst, poorly written smut

A/N: It’s here! I apologize for taking so long and truthfully, this chapter isn’t as well edited as I wanted it to be, but it’s been so long since I updated and the longer I waited, the more guilty I felt for not getting on my own ass and continue writing. I actually wrote more than this but it’s not polished enough for me to add on. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy!

Oh, and the songs I listened to while writing were Heaven Help Me by RAIGN, Inside of Me by RAIGN, the Eric Lee Gravity Remix of Unsteady by X Ambassadors, and Walk Through the Fire by Zayde Wolf

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The wet smell of dirt invaded your nostrils, making you scrunch up your nose in discomfort. Allergies were a bitch but Sangchul didn’t sympathize with your stuffy nose and pounding headache. A sharp hiss  escaped you as your grandfather tightened the blindfold around your head with more force than necessary. The added pressure against your temple made your eye twitch and your fingers curl into tight fists. 

“The comfort and ease of having all of your senses is a privilege, not a right. Some people have all of them, some people only have a few and must learn to adapt to the world around them.” Sangchul rasped as he stepped in front of you. “You may have all of them but what happens when some of the most important ones are taken away? Come at me.”

The urge to roll your eyes was great but what was the point when he couldn’t see you do it? Defying Sangchul was not a smart decision and years of punishment for the smallest of things should have taught you to know better. But defying him also gave you a sense of pride knowing that no matter how deep his claws ran, it wasn’t enough to have complete and total control over you. 

You huffed and lunged toward his voice but found yourself landing flat on your face. He was quick for an old bastard but he’d also had more training and experience than you did. You stood slowly and listened for the barest hint of where Sangchul may be but so far the only thing that caught your ear was your own heavy breathing. Birds chirped, the wind whipped against the trees, leaves fell to the ground, and somewhere a twig snapped in two.

You whirled around, thrusting your fist into what you hoped was your grandfather’s face but he gripped your wrist tight and used his other hand to land a swift jab to your stomach. It was quick and painful, leaving you to double over and dry heave as you tried to catch your breath. Sangchul was strong despite looking fragile, and that strength was made known every time you trained.

He didn’t give you the time to recover, instead moving to land a heavy kick to your rib cage. You coughed and lifted yourself with one arm while the other wrapped around your torso. The sound of his boot leaving the ground once more gave you the chance to gauge how far he stood from you, but you hadn’t realized how close to a tree he’d cornered you. Your back hit the trunk so hard that it knocked the air from your lungs and Sangchul was shoving his steel toed boot into your windpipe. You gasped for air but he kept you pinned, pressing on your neck until you were sure you’d pass out. One of your hands curled around his ankle, desperate to pry his foot away as your other hand tapped against his calf in surrender so he’d let you go. Neither of which happened. 

“You have two free hands, you moron.” Sangchul’s voice was calm as if he weren’t about to choke his granddaughter to death. “You want to live? Then fight.”

Air was becoming minimal and your already obscured vision was beginning to darken. There was always a small part of you that knew your grandfather would some day kill you, but here and now would not be the time. Your nails sunk into the fabric of Sangchul’s pants deep enough to break through to his skin and he hissed as you raked your nails up his calf, slicing and marring the flesh as you went. You weren’t allowed a knife or any kind of weapon when in training so you had to improvise, tearing at Sangchul like a wild animal until he was forced to remove his boot from your neck. You slumped to the ground and gulped in as much air as you could, gasping and coughing until your throat was raw and burning. Prying off the blindfold, you looked up to Sangchul with murderous intent. 

“You son of a bitch!” You sobbed, frustration and pent up tears surfacing without your permission. “What the hell is the matter with you?! You were really trying to kill me!”

“I was teaching you, you ungrateful brat!” He roared back, clutching at his injured leg. He lifted the leg of his pants and clenched his jaw at the blood trickling down his calf. “Where is it? Where’s your knife?!”

“I don’t have one,” you panted as tears rolled down your cheeks and you swallowed another sob threatening to wrack your body. 

“Bullshit!” Sangchul seethed before limping towards you and crouching down to grab at your already sore throat, forcing you to your feet. “The rules are no weapons during training, Y/N! You expect me to believe this kind of damage was done with just your fucking nails?”

You clawed at his arm, but the lack of strength and breath  wasn’t nearly as harmful as the adrenaline filled attack from earlier. You kicked your leg out as a last ditch effort to push him back, landing a surprisingly solid hit to his gut and he stumbled back. You weren’t sure what came over you or what kind of games your own body was playing, but there was enough left in you to tackle him to the ground. Using one knee to pin Sangchul’s bicep to the ground and the other knee to pin his wrist down, you raised your fist high in the air and brought it down across his face three times before he was fighting back. 

Sangchul pushed against your frame, rolling atop you and taking hold of your neck once more to keep you in place while he delivered blow after blow to your stomach more so than your face. The metallic taste of blood coating his gums fueled every punch and became the driving force behind the final hit to your cheekbone. He stood over you ruthlessly as you groaned and turned on your side to painfully curl into a ball, blood gathering on the corner of your mouth. 

“Your father might not have been as talented as you’ve become at hunting but he was never stupid enough to go against me either. You must get that from your mother.” Sangchul used the back of his hand to wipe away the blood gathered on his own lips and spat globs of it on the ground. “Get up and find your way back to the house or lay out here all night and freeze to death.”

Mud, tears, and blood stuck to the side of your face that now sported a broken cheekbone as you listened to his retreating footsteps. A heavy moan sliced the otherwise quiet air and it took you a moment to realize the sound came from your own mouth. You could already feel the bruises forming on your torso and wondered if he’d broken a couple of ribs. Taking in a sharp breath only made the pain worse and another wail shook the trees, scattering the birds that had witnessed your beating. 

You were unaware of how long you stayed on the ground, but it was dark by the time you managed to gather enough resistance to the ache in your bones before carefully standing up. You limped slowly through the desolate woods that only your grandfather could navigate and found yourself at his home almost the next morning. He stood with crossed arms and a cruel smirk on his lips, leaning against the door frame and greeting you casually. He took in your disheveled state, from your torn up pants and shirt to the swollen welt on your cheek.

“Well,” Sangchul chuckled as your body shook with the attempt to keep yourself standing, “I honestly didn’t expect you to make it back. It would take your father days before he recovered from his lessons. Your strength comes from your will to live, Y/N, and your father didn’t have enough of it. Let’s not make yesterday a regular occurrence. I’d hate to have to kill you before you’’ve reached your full potential.”

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

“Blood,” Jungkook breathed, dropping his chopsticks to his plate and standing from the couch quickly. His sudden outburst made Seokjin jump in his seat before he was up and trailing closely behind Jungkook. 

“Does it smell familiar?” Seokjin questioned. If it was your blood then he wanted to be prepared for how Jungkook may react.

“No,” The panther scrunched his nose up in disgust, “It’s not a lot either, it’s faint. It’s not Y/N’s.”

His senior huffed out a breath of relief, placing his palm against his chest and letting his posture sag a little. The tension in his shoulders was long gone by the time they made it to Taehyung’s apartment, Jungkook stopping at the foot of the door. Seokjin pulled his eyebrows together in confusion before he heard the muffled conversation.

“Holy shit, you should have seen it!” Hoseok was giddly explaining the fight to Taehyung, whose arms were crossed and glare focused solely on you. “She beat the shit out of them! And scared Suho! I mean he pretty much pissed his pants!”

“Hobi,” Yoongi interrupted his friend with a pat on his shoulder, nodding to a decidedly unamused Taehyung and your sheepish face as you bowed your head in apology for getting into another fight. “Maybe spare the details, okay?”

“Oh, right,” Hoseok flushed; he hadn’t meant to get caught up in the excitement but he’d only ever heard stories of your fighting skills and barely caught a glimpse of them when the fight broke out with Xiumin and Kai.

“Are you out of your mind?” Taehyung hissed after Hoseok finally calmed down, bracing his hands on the kitchen table and leaning over to scold you like a parent would a child. “You were only supposed to meet with the detective, not start a brawl with Suho and his men. You said you didn’t need backup so I let you go alone and now you’re in our kitchen covered in someone else’s blood. You know there’s a hybrid upstairs right now who’s probably already caught on to your scent and he’s going to come rushing down here any second to check on you. I don’t need a pissed off panther busting down our front door because you’re too stubborn to let anyone help!”

Yoongi and Hoseok exchanged a surprised glance, neither of them ever hearing Taehyung lecture you as harshly as he had been in that moment. Yoongi whistled low as Hoseok looked to the ground in hopes of avoiding Taehyung’s wrath after expressing how much he admired your skills. Yoongi wasn’t all that surprised to find that you didn’t even bat an eye at your friend; you’ve obviously gone through this argument before.

“Are you done?” You sighed, standing from your seat at the table to head for the sink and run your hands underneath hot water. Scrubbing at the blood staining your knuckles, you hissed at the cuts lining them and cursed at the thought of your hand swelling. “Jungkook isn’t going to come down here. In case you’ve forgotten, he hates me right now so I don’t think you need to worry about that, Tae. It wasn’t like I was looking for Suho, he came to me so what was I supposed to do? Let him and his men beat the hell out of me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Taehyung argued, “I’m---.”

“It’s not like I’m proud of what happened today,” You interrupted him, shoulders dropping. “It wasn’t exactly fun to use Suho’s trauma against him. You think I don’t remember what I did to him? How twisted I used to be?”

Taehyung opened his mouth to disagree but the beeping of the keypad caught his attention, the door swung open as Seokjin stepped inside with Jungkook behind him. Everyone stilled as the panther came into view, your back still facing him at the kitchen sink. 

You could feel Jungkook in the apartment. The pull of his mark was so intense that you were tempted to throw yourself in his arms. You sighed as you felt a headache coming on stronger than usual but addressed Taehyung, “you could have gotten killed that night and I admit, the way I handled it bordered on unhinged. When I hurt Suho, he was just a new hunter looking to make a name for himself and because of what I did...I made him who he is. I’m not proud of it, Taehyung, and running into him today just reminded me of the kind of person I used to be.”

Jungkook’s spine straightened as you finally turned to face him, locking eyes with him as he listened when you said, “I used to be a lot worse than what I am now, Jungkook. You may think Suho is just another idiotic hunter but the truth is that I did that to him. No hunter comes without a story and Suho? I’m his.”

“Y/N,” Seokjin put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze, “now might not be the best time.”

“You marked me, Jungkook,” You continued, stepping away from the sink and towards him, “we’re bonded and that was something you chose for us. You can hate me all you want because let’s be real, I deserve it. But everything I’ve done was to keep myself alive and then when Tae came along...he was my priority.”

Taehyung’s eyes softened when he saw the tears building in your own, threatening to fall with each step you took towards the hybrid. True, when he first met you the friendship was rocky, the ice in your veins making it difficult to gain your trust. He remembered when he finally broke through the wall you’d built and he became the most important person to you. He also remembered the night Suho had made a mistake and you nearly tore his head off for being incompetent.

“And then you,” Your broken whisper to Jungkook made Yoongi’s heart ache at how fragile you seemed compared to a few hours ago, “when you came to me, I knew there was nothing I wanted more than to protect you. So I reined a lot of myself in because I didn’t want to scare you. Last night when I said I’d always be a hunter...it was because I didn’t want to lie to you anymore. Hunting is who I am and yes, I’m scared of what could happen when this is all over. I’m going out of my fucking mind trying to figure out how...who I’ll be if I won’t be a hunter. I’m nothing without it but when you came into my life, being happy was the first thing that came to mind and you were right when you said I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Jungkook hadn’t noticed he’d been crying until you reached out to wipe his tears away, his cheek turning into the palm of your hand and his eyes falling shut. The ache in his chest grew larger the more you spoke, the pain becoming too much until finally, you touched him. Your fingers gliding along his cheek soothed him and the agony in his heart. 

You gasped when he pulled you into his chest, arms embracing your frame to his tightly as you buried your face into his shirt. You could feel his hot tears sticking to your skin when he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. His body trembled in your hold much like Suho’s had earlier but this was for an entirely different reason, his gasping breaths flooding you with guilt that you’d made him feel so awful.

“Please stop being mad at me,” You whispered, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt, “I can’t...be away from you.”

Jungkook could only squeeze you tighter and nod silently. He couldn’t be apart from you either and even though it had only been a day, he felt as though it had been an eternity since he last saw you. His hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips to keep you pinned to him. Holding you close felt like he could finally breathe again, his large frame slumping in your arms as his body betrayed him and let everyone in the room know just how exhausted he was.

One of your hands slid up the length of his chest to run your fingers through his long hair while the other wrapped around his broad shoulders. A relieved sigh escaped as you found yourself relaxing in Jungkook’s hold, the tension in your neck finally gone.

“Can I?” Jungkook mumbled into your neck, his lips brushing against the mark and canines tracing along it. The desperate need to freshen his claim clawed at his insides, especially with the faint smell of Suho all over you. Admittedly, he was planning on reclaiming you as it was, pissed at you or not, because he hated the smell of another man on your clothes and skin.

“Not here,” You blushed and tucked your face further into his chest, knowing full well that he could hear the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Why not?” He nibbled on your skin as if prepping it for the sting of his teeth.

“Because we’re here!” Yoongi interrupted with a gagging noise so convincing that you had to jump back to see if he actually puked all over the floor. His joke, but not really a joke, serving as a reminder that you were not alone in the apartment. 

“Dinner?” Seokjin suggested loudly, face flushed and eyes boring into the floor. If anyone in the apartment knew just how intimate marking could get, it was him. He’s married to a hybrid, after all, and the times his wife reclaimed him often led to a night of passion so intense that they would forget they weren’t alone in the house and their daughter was just two doors down. 

“God, please!” Taehyung scrambled for his shoes and quickly shoved his feet into them. “I’m starving!”

“You were home all day and you didn’t cook anything to eat?” Hoseok scolded but was just as quick to throw on his own shoes and dash out the door.

“We’ll bring you something back,” Seokjin offered since going out for Jungkook wasn’t an option and figured it would do some good to leave the two of you alone. He shoved Yoongi to the door while the younger struggled against him, reluctant to leave you with Jungkook after your last night alone ended in disaster. “Come on, Yoongi, they’ll be fine.”

“But I—-AGH!” Yoongi yelped as he tripped over his own feet and nearly face planted in his attempt to get away from Seokjin.

When silence filled the apartment, Jungkook went back to laving at your neck with renewed vigor now that there was no one to interrupt. He heard the breathless call of his name but couldn’t really be bothered to fully understand what you were trying to say. 

The heat of his palms sliding underneath your shirt left goosebumps on your skin, a shiver running down your spine. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck as his hands travelled lower and lower, stopping briefly to squeeze the cheeks of your ass, and cupping the backs of your thighs to lift you onto the kitchen counter. Leaning back on your elbows, you laughed as Jungkook followed and loomed over your entire body.

“As sexy as this is,” You joked and smiled fondly at the twitching of his ears, “the marble of the counter is cold as hell, Kook, so maybe the bedroom…”

Jungkook was hauling you off the counter before you could even finish the sentence, your arms and legs clinging to his body, winding tight as he pressed your back to the wall instead. His eyes lit up that beautiful shade of emerald you came to love, irides slitting in true cat form and his canines elongating. The sharp prick of said canines made you squeak as they pierced your skin, a sound he seemed to take quite a liking to. 

“Oh,” You breathed, grinding against his crotch in a desperate search for friction. One hand tangled in his long hair while the other pulled at the button and zipper of his jeans until you were able to snake your hand inside. 

Jungkook groaned against your throat at the feel of your fingers wrapping around his length. He pulled away to lean his forehead on your shoulder, fingers gripping your thighs and parting them further to press against you even more. “Tell me, Y/N,” He whispered against your skin, “who is this I smell on you?”

“That answer depends on how pissed off you’ll get,” You laughed sharply at the feel of his claws poking out to grab at the muscle of your thighs possessively. “Judging by your claws, I’d say very.”

He growled out, using one hand to snatch yours from his jeans and pin it to the wall. “It smells like gunpowder.”

Gunpowder? 

“Set me down,” You pushed at his chest, rolling your eyes as he grit his teeth and released his grip. With both feet firmly on the ground, you brought a hand up to run through the tangled mess of hair in order to think. “Suho’s guys, maybe?”

“They shot at you?” Jungkook couldn’t stop the growl rumbling from his chest if he tried. 

“No, but they must have fired their guns at some point during the day,” You looked at his face and winced at the shadow crossing his features. “Well it’s not like I would have been able to smell it on them. They ambushed me, all I did was fight back.”

“Yes. Against guns.”

“They didn’t have any on them when we fought,” You defended yourself but it really was just a poor excuse for not thinking Suho’s guys would be carrying. 

Jungkook sighed heavily and slammed his eyes closed before you could see the green coming forth. “Take a shower, Y/N, get the smell off you, and then we can go to bed.”

A scoff nearly made its way from your throat but he was right. Jungkook was sensitive to gunpowder and any kind of firearms; it stemmed from his less than pleasant encounters with them. You brought your arm up in a mock salute, earning yourself a glare as the words, “Yes, sir!” echoed down the hallway.

“Go,” He bit out and moved away to give you space to walk down the hall. Truthfully, he needed time to gain his bearings after catching a familiar scent. Not the gunpowder, but Suho himself. Suho’s stench had been all over Ye-Jin’s room when he first arrived at the Nam home. Judging by how much the smell lingered, Jungkook could only guess why the hunter spent so much time there. Ye-Jin’s escapades with Suho made Jungkook’s skin crawl, thinking of how hard she’d tried to seduce the panther himself. 

When the scent hit his nostrils, the panther in him was coming out full force and he needed to create some distance before he snapped. Now that he’d claimed you, the last thing he wanted was to cause harm by becoming feral.

The sound of running water made his ears and growing bulge twitch. He really needed to get a hold of himself. That thought had no time to be registered before his feet carried him to the bathroom. The handle was cold against his heated skin and he wasn’t at all surprised to find the door unlocked. A small nudge against the wood revealed your scattered clothes along the tiled floor, your scent invading his senses. Little by little, he shed his clothes as quietly as possible in hopes of giving you a small scare.

You really should have been paying more attention to your surroundings. Jungkook was the only one left in the apartment but you still should have been more careful in your decision to leave the door unlocked. The guys could have come back at any time.

“You should be more careful, baby,” Jungkook purred against your ear, hands snaking around to rest against your stomach and pulling your back to his naked chest. 

“Oh?” There was no reason to hide your amusement and he knew it. Your intentions were quite clear as you tipped your head back and met his shoulder. “Why is that?”

“Anyone could have walked in here,” He growled low, one hand clasping your hip while the other slid up to palm your breast.

“Anyone did,” You teased, gasping sharply at his wandering hands coupled with the feel of his lips at your neck. Steam enveloped the room and clouded your eyesight, leaving you at Jungkook’s complete mercy as his rough hands groped and ran about your torso. 

Water pelted Jungkook’s skin as he came to the realization that bathing with you would be his second favorite activity in a long time. The hand on your hip traveled lower between your legs until the tip of his index finger pressed against the bundle of nerves. The whining and whimpering had his ears flattening against his scalp as he pressed, circled, and worked at your clit ever so slowly. “Soon,” He promised softly, though for you an impending orgasm wasn’t soon enough.

“I will cut your tail off, panther,” You threatened lightly and his chuckle vibrated against your back. He enjoyed tormenting you, that much was obvious, deft fingers gliding lower and his other hand cupping your breast gently. “You’re an ass, Jungkook.”

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook smirked against your wet skin, sinking two fingers knuckle deep into your heat. “No ‘Kook’ this time, baby? That’s not very nice considering where my fingers are.”

“Please,” You groaned, head lolling forward and arm shooting out to press against the shower wall, pushing back against his erection. His tail wound around your thigh to pry your legs open, fingers pumping in and out ever so slowly.

“Please?” He mocked, ears twitching curiously at what may come out of your mouth next. In the short while he’d been living with you and Taehyung, he’d seen enough to know that you were not one to yield. To anything. So to have you begging and pleading for him was a pleasant surprise. “You want something from me, Y/N?”

“No ‘baby’ this time?” You hissed at the prodding of his fingers, deep and steady, and curled your own into a fist against the wall. “That’s not very nice of you, Kook, considering where my hand was earlier.”

“What if Taehyung had come in?” Jungkook hummed in your ear and let his thoughts run much wilder than necessary. What if Taehyung had come in? Or Yoongi? 

He wasn’t very fond of that idea given how close you were to them. His hand moved from your hip up to your throat, squeezing gently while you panted and squirmed against him. “Has he ever seen you naked?”

“Not now, Kook.” You groaned because yes, yes Taehyung had seen you naked before. He was the one you lost your virginity to years ago but Jungkook didn’t need to know that. “You really want to talk about Tae of all people right now?”

His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing in tight circles as your thighs trembled and you whimpered out his name. “No, I’d much rather be inside of you but since the subject was brought up…”

“By you!” You yelped at the small press of his fingers against your throat and the way his fingers pumped faster. Your hips rocked in time to his hand, grinding into his hand and reaching your own hand back to tangle in his hair. “Jungkook, please.”

He smirked against your skin, ears perking up at the mix of pleas and threats spilling from your mouth. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why you were deflecting and though usually he’d be upset by this new information, he was surprised to find it didn’t bother him as much as he’d first thought. His lips moved up the side of your neck, teeth nipping and sucking your skin. “You’re mine, sweetheart, aren’t you?”

Possessiveness was never really a turn on for you, but with Jungkook you found yourself clamping down on his fingers and nodding quickly in agreement. This, this was the panther in him and it was a huge relief to have him becoming more confident and comfortable. 

“Say it,” Jungkook hissed, pressing firmly on your clit as you tugged at his hair. “I need to hear you say it, baby.”

“I’m yours,” You moaned loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear. “All yours, Jungkook. Only you.”

Your back was hauled against the shower wall unceremoniously, hands gripping your thighs, parting them as he sank deep inside in one solid thrust. Your fingers dug into his shoulders hard enough to break skin but he didn’t seem to mind. His lips were on yours roughly, muffling the strangled moan leaving your throat. 

Jungkook didn’t move, instead savoring the feel of your walls clenching around his cock. The kiss slowed to a languid press of your lips to his, your fingers combing through his shaggy hair and tugging on it to have better access to his neck. He closed his eyes, sighing in pleasure and winding his arms underneath your thighs, pulling himself back before surging forward again and again. The slow roll of his hips against yours had you panting and gasping with each solid thrust. You wound one arm around his shoulders, sinking your nails into his shoulder while the other hand gripped his hair so tight that you were sure he’d be bald by the end of the night. 

This wasn’t the same frenzied pace as the previous night, you realized. It was sweeter, softer in the way he moved and peppered your shoulder in kisses. Honestly it probably wasn’t a good idea to take your time since neither of you knew when Taehyung and the rest of the guys would be back. The last thing you needed was any of them walking in to see you and Jungkook going at it in the bathroom of all places. 

Seokjin, the maturer of the group, would most likely be the one to herd them all out yet again, but even he would crack some kind of joke about it. 

“I missed you,” Jungkook rasped against your mouth, breaking you from all thoughts as his thrusts became quicker and sloppier, one hand snaking between your legs to thumb at your clit once more. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

You wanted to tease that it hadn’t even been a full day but you knew exactly how he felt. How empty and hollow your chest seemed with the distance and while you had spent most of your day occupied with the detective and Suho’s gang, Jungkook spent his holed up in an unfamiliar apartment with nothing but his own thoughts. Your nails bit into his scalp and he hissed at the feel, teeth coming down to clamp on his mark and tongue lapping at the skin. 

“I missed you too, Kook,” You whispered as his canines sank deep into his already prominent claim. You convulsed around him, body shaking and thighs trembling with the intensity of your release. “Fuck!”

Jungkook’s hand moved from between your legs to brace against the wall next to your head, a deep groan of agreement reverberating from his chest. The press of your knees against his rib cage, squeezing him tight, pushed him over the edge and he spilled into you. His mouth found yours in a deep kiss, tongue slipping past your lips as his hands massaged the tops of your thighs in soothing circles.

Three loud bangs against the bathroom door made you tense and pull away from Jungkook but he only shushed you as Taehyung’s deep voice boomed on the other side. 

“There better be hot water left, goddamn it!” Taehyung joked before striding back down the hall to the kitchen. He really wouldn’t have even gone to find you if Seokjin hadn’t insisted on it.

“Jungkook didn’t eat much earlier,” Seokjin had said when they returned to the apartment, “and I can bet neither has Y/N. They need something in their system.”

“But they already have each other,” Hoseok had mumbled and earned a nice slap across the back of his head from Yoongi. 

Taehyung shook his head before walking back into the kitchen to find Seokjin rummaging through his cabinets to find plates and cups. If anyone had told him a year ago that he’d have his best friend, a hybrid, and three older men that treated him like a kid rather than a hunter in his apartment, Taehyung would have laughed in their face. Still, it was comforting to have someone care for him like a person instead of a killer. His childhood was less than pleasant, his own father acting as if Teahyung were a nuisance and not the son he was responsible for. 

“Tae,” Seokjin frowned at the distant look on the younger man’s face, “are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Taheyung shook his head with a chuckle. “I was just thinking.”

Hoseok sat at the dining table with a tilt of his head, waiting to hear if Taehyung would elaborate further but Seokjin simply set a plate down in front of him before moving on to an empty space. 

“Then sit,” Seokjin smiled warmly and turned to the abundance of food waiting on the counters.

Yoongi peered down the hallway to the now empty bathroom, watching the swirls of steam seep out from the open door and grimacing at the thought of what happened while they were gone.

“Yoongi,” Seokjin called from the counter as he dug through a bag of food, “they’ll be out here when they’re ready. Come sit down and eat.”

Yoongi opened his mouth to protest when your bedroom door swung open and Jungkook strolled out fully dressed and running a towel through his hair. You weren’t far behind, also dressed in a baggy shirt and sweats, wringing out your hair in a towel. 

“Sorry, Tae,” You mumbled as you plopped down on a chair and avoided eye contact with everyone. 

“Just as long as there’s hot water left.” Taehyung playfully poked your side before you could scramble away from him.

“No, don’t!” You squealed, actually squealed, and launched yourself onto Jungkook’s lap as Taehyung reached out to tickle your side. 

Jungkook was sure he’d never heard anything sweeter than that. The sharp pitch of your voice slicing the air cutely before you were in his lap and clinging to him like a child. There was a grin on your face that no one except Taehyung had seen and Jungkook decided in that moment that he’d do anything to see it again.

“You’re such a baby,” Taehyung teased you, oblivious to the other men’s wide eyed expression, all four of them shocked that you could even smile that big.

You yourself hadn’t even noticed it and Yoongi caught a brief glimpse of the little girl you used to be in that one smile. It shook him to the core to realize how different you’d become and sure, he was used to the woman you were now but to see that little part of you from childhood still existed nearly made him tear up.

Jungkook’s arms were tight around your frame and he buried his face in your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of your shampoo, gripping your waist so hard that he was amazed you could still breathe. The small giggle that floated around the otherwise quiet apartment warmed his chest and he peeked up from your head to watch you poke Taehyung’s leg with your bare foot.

“Gross!” Taehyung wiped away at the invisible dirt on his pants as if you hadn’t just spent an entire hour in the shower. It eased the tension in his shoulders to be able to make you  laugh again, something he hadn’t been able to do in the past few months. He watched as you leaned into the crook of Jungkook’s neck and tucked yourself into the hybrids’ arms, a soft smile spreading across his lips. Taehyung often forgot how little of a childhood you actually had and that affection wasn’t something you easily accepted. But seeing you now, curled into the embrace of someone who looked at you with stars in his eyes, Taehyung had to tamp down the sob threatening to escape his mouth. He loved you like a sister and had wanted for so long to be able to escape the wretched life you’d known, but for years he didn’t think a semi-normal life was a possibility, until now. Now the dream of being able to walk the streets without looking over both of your shoulders was slowly but surely becoming a reality. 

Seokjin leaned his chin against his palm and wanted to scowl at how happy Jungkook was compared to two hours ago. The grin on the hybrid’s face was enough for Seokjin to forgive the way Jungkook had spent the entire day sulking about the upstairs apartment and mumbling under his breath all the ways the argument could have gone if you hadn’t been so stubborn. Love was a fragile thing and while Seokjin was sure neither you nor Jungkook had fully realized just what was happening between you two, it was quite clear the kind of lengths each of you would go through to keep the other safe. It could be argued, mostly by Yoongi, that the relationship was more lust than anything else but Seokjin knew Yoongi’s obsessive need to protect you stemmed from his knowledge of your upbringing. 

“Can we talk about your meeting with Namjoon?” Yoongi raised a brow in your direction. “If I’m not mistaken, it didn’t go entirely as planned but he didn’t shut down the idea either.”

You felt Jungkook tense and press a kiss to the top of your head. “He’s well aware of the risks being taken if he chooses to help us with this, but he’s on board. We’ll set up another time and place to meet soon. Hyungsik’s expecting progress too and he’s agreed to have Suho back off for now. I’m not sure how long that will last or if it even works at all, but our run in today will keep him at bay for at least a week, maybe two.”

“Depends on how fast he’ll recover.” Taehyung shoved a good portion of jjajangmyeon into his mouth and followed it with a long drink of water. “Suho’s never been quick to jump back into an assignment no matter how much he was or wasn’t injured. Despite his reputation, Suho only gets his hands dirty when it comes to showing up Y/N, but even then it’s usually as a last resort. I was surprised to hear how fiercely he was going about this one, then again it could be the reward money that’s keeping him so driven.”

Hoseok huffed from his seat and raked a hand through his hair. “If we can’t steer Suho in a different direction even for a little bit, then this will all be for naught. Two weeks sounds like a long time but not for us, especially with Hyungsik breathing down Y/N’s neck. Taking care of Suho should be the first priority right now.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Taehyung nodded his head in agreement and looked to you, watching the gears in your head turn as you became quiet. “Whatever you’re planning against Suho might give Hyungsik a reason to give you some breathing room. Suho’s a good hunter but he’s messy and not exactly shy about how he makes a living. Hyungsik is in a hurry to get Jungkook before Suho can make a public spectacle about all of this. With him out of the picture, it could give us the opportunity to ask Nam for more time to find Jungkook.”

You knew Tae was right. Hyungsik was always quick to hire you for a job because you were quiet and undetectable, something a lot of other hunters hadn’t quite mastered and with the new laws in place, it would be disastrous if the news that Hyungsik was still harboring hybrids became public knowledge. You also knew that Hoseok was nervous about Suho popping up unnecessarily but you looked to him and said, “Suho’s recovery time isn’t something to worry about. Like Tae said, it could take two weeks before Suho shows himself again and maybe even more. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Suho, it’s that he can’t take the chance of not being at full strength when he goes up against me again.”

“Why were you able to bounce back from his men so quickly but it’ll take Suho weeks to come back from almost nothing?” Hoseok wondered with a curious tilt of his head. He didn’t notice the tight grip of Yoongi’s hand on his cup, or the way Taehyung winced at the question. He only noticed the smallest hint of your nostrils flaring before you covered it up with a smirk.

“Endurance training.”

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

“Again.” Sangchul’s command was sharp. His fighting skills even more so as he dodged another swipe of your fist.

Blindfolded. Again.

Which meant relying on your ears and nose to detect him. He’d started out the day clean but as training went on, he began to sweat and while the smell was not revolting, it was also not flattering. The sound of his heavy boot alerted you to his movement as you thrust your elbow back and connected with the palm of his hand. Damn. He’d seen it coming and managed to counter your hit.

He pushed your elbow forward, sending you staggering out of reach. He watched as you whipped around quickly and brought your hands up to defend yourself if need be. Slowing his breathing and staying entirely still, he watched the fleeting look of panic in your frown. He didn’t want to admit how much you improved since your last session a few weeks back. The lessons would have continued the next day but there was tension in the air every time you were in the same room as him, the kind of tension that made him uneasy. He wasn’t willing to find out how far that tension would push you, so he made himself scarce far more often than he should.

A hunter with skills such as his should not be scared of a sixteen year old girl. He’d have laughed in someone’s face if that person had told him that his granddaughter would one day unnerve him. The day he left you in the woods after beating the ever loving hell out of you had changed something else in you. Something mischievous, rebellious, and down right evil had swirled in your eyes the moment you stepped out of the trees and into his line of sight. You hated him, he knew that, but he wanted to think that you were reliant enough of him that you wouldn’t use the skills he taught you against him.

Last time he didn’t give you time to recover, so you had expected him to attack you as soon as he let go of your elbow. You grit your teeth when he didn’t take a swing at you as he had before. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, drowning out any kind of noise Sangchul would make. He had to have known you couldn’t hear anything but the deafening sound of your own breathing. What could only have been seconds felt like hours before he finally moved, the soft crunch of boots on dead leaves had you ducking an oncoming punch. As you crouched to the ground, the quick woosh of his other boot kicking up dirt had you placing your palms out towards his kick, blocking his assault. You were on your feet quickly, the heel of your steel toe boot catching on the root of the tree behind you but you held steady and acted as if you were going to fall backwards. 

Sangchul lunged forward even further, attempting to grip your shoulders to pin you down, but you gained your footing not a second later and he found himself pressed face first into the rough bark of the tree.

Your forearm was at the back of his neck, only one of his hands wrenched behind his back because there wasn’t a way for you to grab both. Your tiny victory was short lived as he used his free hand to push off the tree and spin around. His wrist rotated out and around to take hold of yours and pull it taught in the air. You cried out in pain after a sickening pop sounded around the woods.

“Clever.” Sangchul admitted with reluctance. “You’ve paid attention. Attempting to get out of my hold will only result in dislocating your shoulder. Which is exactly what needs to happen to get away from me. What will you do, Y/N? Are you willing to pop your own arm out of its socket to escape me or will you---?”

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of finishing his question before you were twisting your body out of his grip, shoulder popping out of place so unnaturally that Sangchul could have thrown up if he weren’t so damn impressed. Dropping to one knee, you panted out of exertion and the scream echoing through the trees. 

Sangchul could count on one hand the amount of times he’d had to teach the same lesson to his own son only to have it end in Donghoon crying and cowering in the corner of his room all night. His eyes were comically wide as you stood from the ground with a renewed sense of purpose, your shoulder hanging limp as sweat beaded across your forehead. It was as if the pain was your sole purpose to keep going and the determination to remain unafraid of him propelled you forward.

Your shoulder was hot, your body gradually warming with it before it started to feel like your whole being was on fire. The flames licked the back of your neck and shoulder blade, rendering your arms useless but not your legs as you swung around and landed the most satisfying kick to your grandfather’s jaw. The crunch of his bones and the thud of his body hitting the ground had a grin splitting your lips viciously, a smile cold and cruel that you’d seen him don thousands of times before. You didn’t have to see his face to know the power shift had begun. You could hear it in the way he struggled to breathe.

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

Taehyung quirked an amused brow at the way Yoongi burrowed further into the couch like a petulant child when Hoseok was trying to get him to leave. 

“Hyung, come on.” Hoseok ran a hand down his face, unwilling to believe that his senior could be so immature. “We’re due to open the bar in an hour and it’s a 30 minute drive from here. We need to leave now.”

“Let’s take a night off,” Yoongi suggested with a fake yawn and stretched himself across the length of Taehyung’s couch. He crossed his feet and brought his arms up behind his head as a makeshift pillow. “One night won’t hurt us.”

“I don’t think Taehyung appreciates you taking over his home without talking to him first.” 

“I have extra blankets and pillows.” Taehyung offered up as Hoseok shot him a glare from across the room. “Though if you’re only staying to keep an eye on Y/N, then it would probably be better to camp out in front of her door.”

“That’s not happening.” Jungkook came up beside Taehyung with a stern look on his face. Two weeks ago, he would have cowered at the sight of Yoongi after getting a gun pulled on him, but now Jungkook refused to be scared. 

Yoongi’s nostrils flared at being challenged by the younger hybrid and he scowled at Jungkook. “Oh yeah, kid? What makes you think she’ll be as quick as you are to kick me out?”

Hoseok buried his face in his hands, tired and sleep deprived from the long nights at the bar and the long days spent helping his new found friends. “You have a couch at home that you can sleep on, hyung.”

“I like Taehyung’s couch better.”

When Hoseok looked to Taehyung for help getting his friend out of the apartment, Taehyung simply hid a smile behind his hand. He opened his mouth to argue with Yoongi once more when you came down the hallway, footsteps so light against the carpeted floor that nobody would notice you if you hadn’t said anything.

“Go home, Yoongi.” You slapped at his feet before plopping down on the couch and tucking your feet underneath your thighs. “If Tae wanted you to invade his space then he would have said so.”

“He offered me extra pillows and blankets,” Yoongi sat up to face you, “I’d say that counts as an invitation.”

Jungkook had made his way to you at some point and scooped you up to take your spot on the couch, sitting you in his lap. The fresh smell of vanilla and lilac intoxicated him enough to press his face into the crook of your neck. 

Yoongi frowned in mock disgust and scoffed at the way Jungkook shot him a sly smirk. “The idea of sleeping outside Y/N’s room is tempting, but I think I’d rather sleep inside.”

Jungkook’s growl rumbled from his chest and against your back. You knew Yoongi was only teasing and meant no harm but Jungkook didn’t seem to share your amusement. “Maybe you should sleep in Tae’s room, Yoongs. He’s just as touch starved as you are.”

“I like to cuddle.” Taehyung nodded with the most serious look he could muster, blinking in surprise when a faint blush crept up Yoongi’s cheeks. 

You shot Yoongi a teasing smile, “what a coincidence, so does Yoongi. There were some nights he wouldn’t let me pry myself away.”

Heat prickled your bare rib cage as Jungkook’s fingers discreetly slid underneath your oversized shirt, the rough pads of his fingers leaving behind goosebumps. His palm flattened just underneath your breast bone, thumb teasing the hem of your bra, and pushing under the wire to skim across your nipple. You’d never pulled your knees to your chest quicker than in that moment, hoping to keep his hand from being seen roaming around. With the press of your knees, it kept Jungkook’s hand in place so he couldn’t venture further but he was not one to be deterred, instead wiggling his hand free enough to slide completely up and cup your entire breast.

“It’s not like you were complaining,” Yoongi’s voice brought you back to the present. “You showed up every night anyways so you can’t tell me that you didn’t like cuddling up to me just as much.”

Jungkook lightly squeezed your breast, kneading and pinching, all while keeping a face so impassive that you were starting to believe you were imagining things. His head tilted at the small hitch in your breath, ears twitching in delight, and he grinned when Yoongi caught a glimpse of your shirt moving where it should not be. 

“You--,” Yoongi began but Seokjin’s voice stopped him. 

“I think everyone should call it a night,” Seokjin suggested after catching the dark look in Jungkook’s eyes before Yoongi could call him out. “I also think if you’re going to stay here tonight, Yoongi, then you should be advised that this is also Jungkook’s territory now. Invading it aggressively will only end in less than pleasant results. Tread carefully.”

“Bed time.” Jungkook whispered against your ear, nipping it in the process and standing from the couch so quick that it made you dizzy. He laughed as you clung to him, padding down the hallway to your bedroom while Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Seokjin continued on with their conversation.

Taehyung threw his head back with a laugh that nearly shook the apartment. He hadn’t been so amused in such a long time that watching Yoongi scramble after Jungkook only to have the door slammed in his face had Taehyung doubled over in glee. He could hear Yoongi’s shocked sputtering all the way from the living room. 

Hoseok didn’t seem to be faring any better, clapping his hands while howling with laughter as well. It took a great deal to rattle Yoongi and Hoseok had only seen it happen a few times in all the years they’d known each other. Now that Jungkook was starting to show more of himself and how comfortable he’d become, Yoongi was left slack jawed a good portion of the time the group spent together. 

Seokjin couldn’t hide his chuckle as Yoongi came back down the hallway with a tic in his jaw. He was aware that the amusement and playfulness wouldn’t last long and the reality of the situation would once again crash into everyone like a brick wall. But for tonight, he would enjoy every smile, every laugh, and every teasing glance that passed between everyone because it would be short lived, and there was a high possibility of it all crashing down in flames. The odds against you were great and while you were stronger than most people, you were still human. With Jungkook at your side and bound to you, the hard shell of the woman you’d become was beginning to crack and Seokjin knew that if anything happened to the panther, you would lose yourself in your own head once more. 

It was no secret how special of a person you were to Yoongi. It was why he was still sulking around Taehyung’s living room instead of sleeping in his own bed. He was aware that Jungkook would sooner tear off his own arm than hurt you, but Yoongi still worried. The look of defeat after your fight with Jungkook was still fresh in Yoongi’s mind, and the way you fought against Suho earlier was just a taste of what could happen if you lost Jungkook again. There had been rumors about the vicious way you fought and he’d seen it first hand, but the encounter with Suho was on an entirely different level. Something in your eyes was inhuman, the curve of your smile struck a wicked resemblance to the grandfather you loathed, and Yoongi spent the entire time watching your eyes practically light up at the way you scared Suho. 

The person you transformed into the second Jungkook was back in your arms was startling. Yoongi didn’t think you could even still be that person, but Jungkook’s presence reeled in the part of you that lashed out against everyone and everything. You were starting to become that same little girl who would move heaven and hell to protect the ones important to you. Growing up, Yoongi had watched you save your mother from the drunken mess that was Donghoon. He’d seen you constantly jump in front of her, taking whatever slap or punch was meant for Iseul, and raising your head high as you hadn’t just been struck by a heavy hand. Time and again, you were scolded by your mother for getting involved, and time and again you would beg Iseul to pack up and leave Donghoon. The arguments often ended in you storming out of the house and stomping across the street to Yoongi’s house where he would clean you up and hold you in his arms until the crying and shaking stopped. 

The night your parents died, you were meant to be home. Meant to be helping your mother pack a weekend bag for a trip with that monster. But you’d argued with her before leaving for school that morning, screaming at her that one day Donghoon will do irreparable damage and you would not be there to pick up the pieces. Yoongi could still remember the agony on your face and in your voice when you ran up to the home that had become a crime scene in a few short hours. He remembered the screams, remembered the tears streaming down your face, and the desperate pleas for Iseul. He remembered being angry with his own parents for keeping him away from you when you needed him the most, but also remembered the way his father pulled him close and whispered in his ear that Sangchul was watching him carefully, that if he truly cared about you then he would let your grandfather handle the situation. He knew it was wrong, knew he should have fought harder to get to you, but then Sangchul was at your side and had taken hold of your shoulders with a solid grip. Yoongi wasn’t close enough to know what was being said or what could have caused the light to die in your eyes, yet he was able to watch what could only be explained as a switch being flipped and then you were no longer Y/N. Not the human part anyways. 

A large hand clapped Yoongi on the shoulder, shaking him from his walk down memory lane, and he looked over to find Seokjin’s brows pinched together with worry. He shook his head and gave his senior what he hoped was a smile. Seokjin could read Yoongi’s bullshit better than anybody and lately he’s been keeping Yoongi closer than ever, as if your presence would cause him to spiral down like it had when they’d first met in college. Yoongi couldn’t blame Jin for wanting to make sure he was okay, especially not after the frantic reaction he had when Jin called him the night you were injured. In all their years of being friends, Seokjin had never heard that type of fear in Yoongi’s voice or seen the trembling of his bottom lip once he saw the state you were in after leaving his bar.  

“It’s late,” Taehyung’s deep voice cut the tension in the air as he watched something pass between Seokjin and Yoongi. “We’re all exhausted and I’m sure none of you are up for the long drive home.”

Hoseok had already settled on the couch once he realized Yoongi would have to be dragged out of the apartment kicking and screaming if Taehyung really wanted him to leave. His eyelids were heavier than he expected them to be and soon his soft snores were drifting around the living room. His sudden slumber left Taehyung scrambling for a pillow and blanket so Hoseok wouldn’t be uncomfortable the rest of the night. 

“The offer to share my bed still stands,” Taehyung grinned at Yoongi after settling Hoseok in. The last thing he expected was for Yoongi to stomp down the hall to his room as if he owned the place. He turned to Seokjin and offered to sleep on the floor of his room so Seokjin could have the bed. “I really don’t mind, hyung. I’ve slept in worse conditions.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Seokjin’s smile was endearing, a flutter of pride in his heart at being accepted by Taehyung. “Sleeping on the floor won’t be a problem for me.”

Taehyung nodded and led him down the hall where he flung his door open to find Yoongi spread out on his bed. He grumbled underneath his breath and shoved Yoongi to one side, creating space for himself before digging through his closet for the sleeping bag he’d bought years ago. He handed Seokjin an extra pillow and blanket, bidding him goodnight and good luck. “I had to sleep on this floor when I first moved in and I can tell you, it’s the most unpleasant night’s sleep.”

Seokjin bobbed his head and yawned, offering good luck to Taehyung in return. “Y/N’s right, you know. Yoongi likes to cuddle.”

Taehyung was ready to laugh at what he thought was a continuation of the joking from earlier but the arm that was quickly wrapped around his stomach made him squeak. He didn’t mind it and he certainly wasn’t going to object to Yoongi’s heartless facade finally crumbling. There was a deep and raspy chuckle that echoed around the room and he wasn’t sure if it was from Seokjin, or Yoongi. 

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

The faint smell of freshly brewed coffee drifting up Taehyung’s nostrils made him believe he was still dreaming, but the constricting hold of someone else’s leg curled around his was enough to startle him. He tried to bolt up and assess his surroundings until his back was squeezed to a solid chest, and it was then he remembered what had happened the night before. He looked at the hand pressed to his chest and trailed his eyes up the owner’s arm and to Yoongi’s sleeping face. 

Min Yoongi wasn’t just a cuddler, he was a goddamn boa constrictor with the way he clung to Taehyung with a surprising amount of strength. He wasn’t usually one for physical affection but he hated the feeling of an empty bed after you’d left years ago. To have someone next to him, be it man or woman, he didn’t care. He wanted the warmth of another body, the comfort of knowing the space next to him would be occupied when he awoke. He was well aware of the hesitation that came from Taehyung after the stunt Yoongi had pulled on Jungkook with a gun, which is why it had surprised him that Taehyung would offer his home as a place to sleep despite Yoongi having his own apartment. He liked to think it was because Taehyung was finally starting to accept him the way he accepted Hoseok and Seokjin.

A loud and obnoxious slurping coming from Taehyung’s bedroom doorway had both him and Yoongi groaning at being woken up before they were ready. Yoongi was tempted to throw a pillow at whoever it may be and seeing as how Taehyung fumbled around the bed to grip a loose one, it was clear that Yoongi was not alone in despising the morning sun.

“Well,” Your voice was dripping with amusement, a teasing lilt to it as both men’s eyes shot open to find that you were the one interrupting their sleep. “Don’t you two look cosy. I take it you’ve forgiven Yoongs then, Tae? Or this is a forbidden kind of thing that we’re all supposed to just pretend we don’t notice?”

“Get out!” Taehyung hissed, horror written all over his face as he noticed your phone poised and ready to take a picture. He was sure you already had a dozen or more since you took your sweet ass time waking them up. He would yell at you to delete them but there was a maximum of one photo on your phone, it being of you and your mother when you were still just a toddler. The fact that you were willing to keep a memento of a fonder memory at his and Yoongi’s expense was honestly okay with him. 

“Jin made breakfast.” You sauntered away from Taehyung’s room with your coffee mug, loudly announcing to Hoseok that he ‘just had to see this’, and Hoseok chirping ‘no way!’. Setting the mug down on the kitchen table, you heard fumbling, a thud, and then a loud groan before Yoongi came barreling down the hallway with accusatory eyes. “Good morning, Yoongs. How’d you sleep?”

“Don’t try that cutesy act on me, you little brat.” Yoongi glared at you, his eyes roaming your body in search of your phone. “Hand it over.”

“No.” 

Yoongi balked at your refusal, lunging after you and finding himself having to chase you across the length of the living room. He came close once or twice though he was sure it was more because you were just giving him a chance rather than he was actually as fast as you. Nearly tripping over the coffee table, he was appalled to see that you’d hidden behind Hoseok, and that Hoseok was full on shielding you from Yoongi’s hands.

At some point, Taehyung had finally emerged from his room and stopped short at the sight of a mischievous grin on your face. He didn’t think you even knew what fun was, but he had to remind himself that there had been a time when you were loved and cared for, and the man currently threatening to strangle Hoseok was one of the people who’d known you before your training. He had to wonder why Jungkook hadn’t stepped in yet when he looked to the kitchen and saw Seokjin setting a plate of eggs and bacon in front of the panther. 

The breakfast Seokjin had cooked up looked so mouthwatering that Jungkook didn’t even bother paying attention to you and Yoongi. In fact, it was entertaining to watch Yoongi attempt to keep up with your speed and agility. You moved so fluently and swiftly that Jungkook wondered how it was possible for a mere human to move the way he could in his panther form. When you launched yourself over the coffee table flawlessly and sprinted to him, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist as you plopped down in his lap. 

Yoongi was panting and two seconds from collapsing to the ground. You’d always been fast and nimble, two traits Yoongi wasn’t exactly envious of given the circumstances you’d gone through to obtain those abilities. He did, however, envy that you weren’t out a single breath while he was close to being dehydrated just from running around the apartment. “I swear to God, little one, if you don’t hand that phone over…”

“I don’t have it.” You smirked at him, accepting a forkful of eggs from Jungkook’s waiting hand. You had your own plate waiting right next to him, but given how long you left them to get cold, you couldn’t imagine they were appetizing. A fact Seokjin also factored in when he heard the commotion, now picking up the plate and shoving it in the microwave to heat up. You’d be surprised if it weren’t for the reminder that he was a parent, and that he must have gone through the same thing a million times with his young daughter. 

Taehyung had left the room a few minutes before and was now wandering back in with his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Toothpaste was slathered all over his lips as he scrubbed at his teeth, not wanting to miss what else may occur in the battle between his best friend and Yoongi. He caught Yoongi’s eye and sent him a teasing wink, watching as Yoongi’s face flushed a bright red before he was sitting at the table to eat breakfast. 

Seokjin stood at the stove, munching on a strip of bacon and watching the scene unfold before his very eyes. The stark difference in your attitude and demeanor in the last few hours compared to the last few weeks since he’d known you left Seokjin baffled. The obvious flirting between Taehyung and Yoongi, who seemed to longer detest each other, caught him off guard. When he’d joked about Yoongi being clingy the night before, he did not expect to have seen Taehyung so comfortable in Yoongi’s arms. Seokjin didn’t want this to end, he realized. He wanted this every day and to introduce this new part of his life to his wife and daughter, to have his two worlds collide without the threatening weight of Hyungsik on his shoulders.

Hoseok set his empty plate in the sink, frowning as he turned to the table and brought up the crushing subject of the problem at hand. “I woke up to some disturbing texts this morning.”

You stilled in Jungkook’s arms, eyes flicking to Hoseok’s approaching figure.

“A hunter, Lee Dongwook, stopped by the bar last night because he had some information that he thought we’d find interesting.” Hoseok sighed and hung his head in frustration. “Some detectives were snooping around some local dive bars, said they were asking questions about previously known hybrid collectors. They wouldn’t tell anyone why but Dongwook was sure it had to do with some hybrids that had been found dead and their bodies dumped.”

“Meaning?” Yoongi wanted to shake Hoseok by the shoulders and hope that whatever he was hesitating to say would spill out. 

“It was the way their bodies were dumped.” Hoseok explained, his eyes boring into the side of your face. “No identification, no missing persons reports, no trace of the hybrid even existing. And the places they’d been dumped were void of any kind of evidence as to who could have done it.”

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to yours, which never seemed to leave the table. Bile gathered in his throat as he watched a sense of recognition flash in your eyes. “Get to the point, Hobi.”

“There’s only one hunter known to pull off a job like that.” Hoseok tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down so hard that he tasted blood. “Only one hunter that’s known to move like a ghost, blending and moving with the shadows.” 

“You didn’t.” Yoongi whispered over the silence that befell the apartment. “Little one, tell me you didn’t.”

“Not for a long time, Yoongi.” You stood from Jungkook and distanced yourself quickly. “Back when I first started hunting, it was easier to do a body dump than it was to actually catch a hybrid. At sixteen, nobody believed a girl like me could get the job done, so they saddled me with getting rid of the bodies.”

“God,” Yoongi breathed and stood up from the table, one hand propped on his hip while the other came up to cover his mouth lest the vomit stuck in his throat come spewing out. “What even…? How…?” He didn’t know what he was trying to ask, or why he was asking at all. He understood what you did as a hunter but he was under the impression that all you did was hunt. Somewhere down the line, he’d pushed the knowledge of your killings to the back of his mind and locked it away.

“I was a kid.” You inhaled deeply and looked to the ground, not sure you could bear the look in Yoongi’s eyes, or Jungkook’s for that matter. “Nobody would have suspected a kid, let alone question them for murder. Sangchul taught me how to get rid of evidence and set me out into the world of hunters and before I knew it... I was that ghost. I was that thing that could move in the shadows, Yoongi. My reputation started with those jobs.” Teahyung winced at the change of tone in your voice. To him, it wasn’t a surprise to hear about the beginnings of your hunting days. You’d told him all about it when you’d first met in hopes it would scare him away. But no. There was no scaring him away from you. 

“Are you trying to justify your shit by saying you were only sixteen?!” Yoongi’s voice boomed around the apartment and Hoseok had put a comforting hand to Jungkook’s shoulder. “All of it should be forgiven and forgotten because you were just a kid?! The world doesn’t fucking work that way, Y/N! Of course, those hybrids would never know because they won’t be getting the chance because of you! You destroyed them, you got rid of them, and didn’t turn back because it wasn’t your fucking problem anymore, was it?! Can you even tell me their names?!”

“Yoongi!” Seokjin tried to step in, watching the darkness swirl in your eyes as your gaze shot to Yoongi. 

“Seo-yun, Seung, Hyunwoo, Juwon,” You listed off name after name, your hands curling into fists at the memories each name brought up. The things you had done, the lives you had taken, and the slow, agonizing pain in your chest with each hybrid. “Changmin, Geon, Seokhoon.”

“Y/N, stop.” Taehyung pleaded, standing from the table and moving across the room but you stepped back. His heart cracked at the way you rejected him.

“Jeni, Areum, Bona,” You continued, chest heaving with anger as more names came spilling out. “Haneul, Nabi, Hwayoung. And so many more. Yes, I did that to them. Yes, I made them untraceable. But I was never the kind of ruthless that my grandfather wanted me to be. They died, Yoongi, but they weren’t tortured, at least not by me. To say their deaths were peaceful would be selfish, but they certainly weren’t painful either.”

“You killed them, Y/N.” Yoongi raked a hand through his hair, bewilderment and disbelief etched all over his face. “You ended their lives and you mean to tell me that you did it peacefully? Is there anything even remotely peaceful about being murdered?”

Your jaw clenched at his question. “What would you know about murder, Yoongi? You think because you happened to catch a glimpse of the damage my mother’s death caused that you’re an expert in the repercussions of it?”

“Don’t do that.” Yoongi hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t try to justify your actions with your past trauma like you were the only one who lost something that day.”

Taehyung’s eyes darted to you as you took in a sharp breath. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He was downright terrified of the look in your eye. There had been but two times in the past years that Teahyung had called you out on your bullshit and excuses, and both times had ended in disaster.

“Iseul was important to me too.” Yoongi continued and watched as tears welled in your eyes at the sound of your own mother’s name. He could only guess that you hadn’t said her name out loud since the day she died, and hearing it now made you falter. “She wasn’t just your mother. She was the woman who made sure you were safe at all costs, made sure I was safe at all costs because you needed me. I needed you. We needed each other. She asked me to take care of you, asked me to love you the way you deserved to be because she knew that one day, your father would take her away from you. Iseul always knew that she wouldn’t live long enough to watch you grow all the way up, so she made me promise that I would always look after you no matter what. When she died, my heart felt like it was shattered into a million pieces, and then you were gone too.”

Seokjin’s shoulders stiffened. He had never heard the full story of why Yoongi was so closed off and unwilling to make friends with anyone in college. Here and now may not have been the most ideal, but it was time everything came to light.

Yoongi’s hands shook as everything from that time came rushing back to him. The sleepless nights, the loss of appetite, the depression. All of it after you left town and not once since his reunion with you was he given the chance to let you know just how messed up he’d become.

“You were gone,” Yoongi continued, “and I couldn’t find you. It was like you fell off the face of the Earth. Do you know how helpless I felt? How desperate I became? For years I went out of my fucking mind because I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. I may not have had the same experiences as you after that day, but you can damn well bet that I was suffering too. Losing you and Iseul fucked me up just as bad, but I didn’t go off and become a murderer.”

“No. How could you?” You gasped through the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. The look on his face after learning the truth of who you’d really become reminded you of the time your mother had first looked at you the same way. Like you were the devil. “You weren’t born to the same monster that I was, Yoongi. You weren’t meant to be what I am. I know what you were going through. Every chance I had to get away from Sangchul, I went to find you. You were so broken that I couldn’t show my face knowing I’d have to leave again. When we got older, and Sangchul was dead, I kept my distance and you know why? Because you were finally happy again, and I thought if I showed up that I would only disrupt the new life you built. Look at you, Yoongs, you can barely look me in the eye knowing what you do now.”

Jungkook fought hard to resist his urge to spring up from his chair and hold you. He had admonished your decision to keep hunting, but that didn’t mean he didn’t fully understand what the life of a hunter meant. Yoongi’s bar was open to anyone and everyone, and although 90% of those people were hunters, he had never been fully immersed in their world. It wasn’t easy for Jungkook to forgive you and it certainly wasn’t easy to see it from your perspective, but surviving was your instinct just as it was his. Sometimes surviving meant doing things one would never be proud of and he understood that better than Yoongi did.

“The only reason I can’t look you in the eye is because I’m not sure who I’ll see when I do.” Yoongi blinked away his own tears, his chest aching with the newfound knowledge that you’d always been looking over him. “You have this mask that you put up whenever you start to shut down or need to keep someone at bay. That mask looks so much like Sangchul’s and Donghoon’s that I don’t even see Iseul in you anymore, Y/N.”

“That’s because she’s none of those people,” Taehyung had finally inched himself across the room enough to stand at your side without touching you. “Y/N is herself. Those people may have shaped her but over time, she created her own mould. Yoongi, you only want to see the little girl you took care of and no matter how many times you thought you could handle who she was, it wasn’t real for you. This, here and now, this is the reality we’ve lived and become accustomed to. You’re not ready for it. I don’t think anyone but me, Jungkook, and Y/N are, and yet here we all stand willing to take risks bigger than any of us had expected. I’m not saying you need to open your eyes and take in the cruelty of our world if you want to help, but that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“When was your last clean up job?” Seokjin didn’t want to ask. In fact, he was content with staying the hell out of the argument entirely, but someone had to shift the conversation back to where it began. 

“6 years ago,” your answer was immediate, giving Yoongi a little bit of relief that these last few bodies were not actually your work. “After I got my first tracking job, I never took on another clean up again.”

Hoseok perked up as if suddenly realizing something important. He dug his phone from his pocket to scroll through the text messages.”Dongwook said the other hunters didn’t give up your name to the detectives, but he heard chatter that maybe you’d started taking on clean up duty again.”

“How did he know to text you?” Yoongi asked him, almost glaring at Hoseok’s sheepish face. “Hobi?”

Hoseok scratched at his head nervously. “Dongwook was in the bar the night Xiumin and Kai attacked Y/N. He saw us take her to the back and figured we had dealt with her a different way but then he saw her leave and pieced it all together.”

“We’re really that transparent.” Yoongi sighed heavily, massaging the tension building at the nape of his neck. “If Dongwook figured it out then there’s no doubt that other hunters have as well.”

“Well yes, but who would really try and use it against us?” Hoseok shot a knowing look in your direction. “To them, the fact that we let Y/N go so easily that night just means we’re important to her. Nobody’s ever bothered to try and hurt Taehyung because they know what will happen if they do. In a way, the bar and us are under her protection.”

“Then who’s dumping the bodies? And who would be stupid enough to try and pin it on Y/N?”

“I’m still here.” You reminded them, tired of hearing them speak about you as if you weren’t present. Looking at everyone around the room, your eyes softened on Jungkook in apology. “I have to contact Namjoon today, before things get more out of hand. I’ll be gone for most of the day and maybe even tomorrow.”

Jungkook wanted to argue, wanted to lock you in the apartment even if he had to tie you up to do so, but he couldn’t do any of that. He could definitely try, and he didn’t think anyone else would object to it. Still, he couldn’t keep you from your nature or from your desperate need to keep him alive and well. Two days would be too long and that was just the minimum amount of time you’d estimated your absence. “Will Taehyung or Seokjin hyung be going with you?”

No, you said at the same time Taehyung said “yes”. You spun around to face him, lips pulled into a thin line. “You’re not going, Tae. I need you here with Jungkook.”

“Jungkook’s a full shifter,” Taehyung argued, “if anyone needs protection, it’s whoever is dumb enough to storm this apartment. Plus, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Yoongi can stay here with him, right Jungkook?”

“I’d feel better if Taehyung went with you.” Jungkook nodded at Taehyung in agreement. “It won’t be safe by yourself, and I’d rather not have a repeat of the night I had to stitch you up.”

You rolled your neck in irritation. Suddenly everyone thought arguing with you was a good idea and nothing pissed you off more than when Taehyung refused to see reason. You didn’t know what would happen when you met Namjoon and you didn’t want Taehyung in the middle of it. After spilling the secret of your grandfather’s death, you were sure Namjoon had something planned in order to bring you to justice. He wouldn’t be a good cop if he didn’t have a larger perspective. 

Without a word, you were storming to your room, changing from the baggy sweats and shirt to a pair of black tactical pants, a tank top, and a long sleeved thermal top over it. You pulled your hair into a low ponytail with a heavy sigh. “It isn’t safe to take Taehyung with me,” you called over your shoulder.

Jungkook wasn’t at all surprised that you’d sensed him in the room even if he hadn’t made any noise. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your stomach to pull your back flush against his chest. “I don’t even want you to go in the first place. If you don’t want Taehyung to go with you, then you’ll just have to stay here.”

You turned in his arms, resting your palms against the hard planes of his chest and sliding them up until your fingers were fiddling with the leather band around his neck. An ominous feeling came over you as you tapped on the tracking chip embedded in the charm adorning it. Something was going to go wrong, you could feel it, but voicing this to Jungkook would only further prove that whatever you have planned was not a good idea. 

“The longer I wait to set the rest of the plan in motion, the riskier it gets for you,” you stood on the tips of your toes, fingers sliding into his long hair, and pulling his mouth down to yours. It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, but it wasn’t an I’ll-see-you-soon kiss. You could tell Jungkook knew this with the way he secured your waist with one arm and his other hand tangled in your hair, tugging at the elastic band. 

He pulled you hard against him, deepening the kiss and nipping at your bottom lip until he was able to slide his tongue through your parted lips. He felt your nails dig into his scalp gently and he groaned against your mouth, savoring the taste of coffee on your tongue. He didn’t want to let you go, but the push of your hand against his chest forced him to release his grip. 

You pulled back to touch your forehead to his, both of you breathing heavily. You didn’t open your eyes to see his, it hurt enough that you were leaving, you didn’t need the image of his pleading brown eyes to be the last thing you’d seen before taking off. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” He whispered against your swollen lips. His hands fell to your waist where he bunched up the fabric of your shirt, his grip becoming too tight. “I thought you were a better liar than this.”

“I can’t lie to you no matter how hard I try.” You pressed a softer kiss to his mouth this time, bracing your palms against his chest and pushing away from him. Without giving him one last look, you were stalking out of the room. Your chest constricted with the ragged breath he puffed out to keep himself from crying. 

[lichfucker]

8, 13, 20, 34 for ingot? 👀

ooooh ty kam!!

8. what is the most interesting thing that they regularly carry on their person?

my first thought was "probably a gun lmao" but actually ingot keeps their gun in whitlock's robe of holding since uhh they almost got arrested for forgetting to hide it slkfj

that being said, the answer is probably poison bullets

13. what does their handwriting look like?

ingot's handwriting is practical. it's neat and legible, but not so Clean and Perfect that it almost looks like a font, because that's... slow and unnecessary. for the same reason, it's also not an ornate cursive filled with calligraphic flourishes. he does have a number of looping and connected letters, elements borrowed from a formal cursive, but I think it's less about extravagance than it is about ease. I think ingot writes like somebody who was trained for elegance but prioritizes efficiency

20. describe one of your favourite rp moments with this character

I mean my favorite rp moment was ingot confronting voromaz in the ethereal plane but I feel like I talk about that scene so much slfkdls

there are some lines that I think about for weeks before I get to say them, and then there are lines that other people are surprised to learn I didn't think about for more than a second before I said them, and my favorite one of those happened the first time z'ress asked ingot out on an official Date. z'ress had just died and been revivified a couple hours earlier, and then the party got into a nasty argument about diamonds (they're really really difficult to get in this setting and we'd just had to use what we believed to be our only one, and then our cleric at the time revealed to us that they'd been hiding a secret second diamond for like months, and they had VERY understandable reason to do so, but it was um a very touchy and divisive subject lmao) so already ingot, king of repressed bitches, was feeling very emotionally frazzled, and then z'ress asked him out bc hey they could all die at any moment so really what's the point in holding back? and because ingot is the king of repressed bitches, he asked z'ress to explain basically how they knew that the feelings they had for ingot were the kind of feelings to which the typical response is dating (because he lacked the context and experience to really understand his own feelings). one of the things that z'ress said was that they think about ingot all the time, and ingot latched onto that as something they could recognize, and the thing that they said to express reciprocity was, "at any given moment, even when it's not appropriate, I am thinking about you"

and I will remember that line verbatim for the rest of my life sljfdf eli and jd both later expressed surprise that I'd improvised that line lmao

g-d I'm so long-winded. all that to explain one sentence. imagine if I actually had said fuck it and written out the whole voromaz scene sldfsf

34. pick a character that they know. what is something that they do that your character finds charming/endearing?

ingot is charmed by whitlock's eagerness to show off all his little clockwork constructions. any time we come across anyone with a shred of tinkering experience whitlock pulls out his clockwork figurines as a way to bond with that person. and it just hits ingot in a place of, like, shared appreciation for fine craftsmanship. ingot finds it hard to relate to people in general, but taking pride in your work and being able to share those accomplishments with people who are skilled enough themselves to meet you on that level is something ingot understands implicitly. and I just think that, like, whenever ingot sees whitlock doing that he just gets this feeling of, "this is how I relate to people, and I know that whitlock sees and understands me because this is how he relates to people, too"

[spidersbane]

Hello! Can I get MCU, The Hobbit, and The Man From U.N.C.L.E. ship? 💚

Appearance: She/her. 179,5cm tall, rectangle body shape. Fair skin complexion with quite a few birthmarks. Dyed brown with honey-red highlights, shoulder-length, straight hair with bangs. The left eye is a mix of two colors – a smaller portion of (darker) greyish-blue and a larger portion of hazel; while the right eye is just a (lighter) greyish-blue. Heptagon face shape with two dimples on the left cheek and one on the right cheek (only visible while smiling). A gap between the upper front teeth.

Personality (good and bad traits): Ever since I was a kid, I was always quite mature for my age – I identify myself as an old soul. I come off as polite and well-mannered to strangers, yet I tend to keep it to myself by being reserved. But, that’s because I have social anxiety and I’m nervous and shy when meeting/talking to people. The only people I’m comfortable with being with my inner circle – closest friends and family. I am usually more “open” with my friends than with my family. With my friends I can be my “truest-self” – I smile more, I laugh more, I feel more accepted and understood. I am the mom and the fashionista of the group. Don’t get me wrong, I am fiercely protective of my family, especially of my mother and younger sister. But, lately, I’ve been feeling like the “black sheep” of the family, Cinderella who’s been taken advantage of. I express my affection for the people I care about in little, but practical, ways. I can be a little stiff when it comes to open, gushy displays of affection. Others turn to me for help and advice. I’m kind-hearted and generous, always ready to help a person in need. Always have been motherly towards children. Very awkward at keeping small talk (usually with people that I’m not that close with). Absolutely, hate speaking in front of a public, and if I do, because of my nervousness, I tend to mess up my words and/or I practice whatever I’m about to say in my head at first. I appreciate the simplicity and am often most comfortable when I’m not getting too much attention from the world. I am sensitive – both to criticism and to others’ feelings (I sponge up the feelings and moods of people and the environment around me). Have a hard time saying no or expressing my true thoughts, feelings. I get influenced by other people’s opinions/thoughts quite hard (I take everything to the heart), that is why I tend to keep a lot to myself (may come off as a little bit tense, secretive, mysterious). I avoid the harsh reality by daydreaming (almost every day) – imagining myself in situations far from my current circumstances. Sort of like a self-escape. I worry a lot and overthink almost everything. I am easily distracted and my attention span can be quite short. I have an internal struggle between my needs and wants. I can lack focus and be indecisive as a result – when I decide on one route, I am pulled in another direction at the same time (“But what if…”, “on the other hand...”). That is why I’m having a bit of a struggle with deciding what I want to do in the future (career-wise). I am easily overwhelmed by pressure and stress. There is a self-destructive side to me (self-critical, lack of self-confidence) that I’m working on by confronting my fears (coming out of my shell). Don’t like taking pictures, or other people taking pictures of me. I feel most content when I’ve straightened out all the details of everyday life. I have a routine, that I follow by mostly every day, and if something small changes in that routine, I start to have a small internal anxiety attack. Also, I like to do things my own way, like, when it comes to cleaning the house or organizing stuff, etc. I get triggered even if people don’t do the laundry the way I do. I guess you could describe me as a perfectionist, clean/control freak. In triggering situations I can be impulsive, spontaneous, quick to act. Quick flare-ups of anger/annoyance when being provoked on my patience. Even when I’m feeling low, I manage to find humor in life and have fun with whatever I do have. Although I tend to bottle things up, I am an emotional person and my emotions are genuine – I love and care deeply and passionately and wish no ill will upon anyone, yet it hards for me to imagine someone falling in love with me or just liking me.

Hobbies, likes: My hobbies are cleaning, writing (re-writing song lyrics, making small notes, writing stories), listening to any type of music, catching up on my favorite films and TV shows, hanging out with friends, going to the cinema, or the club, being out in nature, reading, traveling. I like history, cooking, fashion magazines (or fashion in general), road trips, spirituality, mythology, books, orange juice, previous decades, cottage-core, dark academia.

Overall: Hufflepuff. INFP-T. Bi-sexual. Pisces-Aries cusp sign. “Looks like could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll.” A feminist, support LGBTQ+ community. That’s it, thank you!

hey @pataim ! thanks so much for sending in your request, and thank you so much for your honesty about yourself. like it takes a lot to air yourself out like that, and I admire your strength for it. but also fINALLY a 'Man from U.N.C.L.E' ship! I love that movie and attempt Illya's accent all the time, so this will be fun :)

For the MCU/Marvel - I ship you with Steve Rogers/Captain America ! 

no one can tell me that Steve doesn’t have a set routine honestly, so let me just get that out there 

he seems intimidating at first, esp as a public figure and Avenger, but Steve is nothing but passionate about what he does. so it may clash w your lack of direction, but I could honestly see him envying that a lil bit, like it’s not that you don’t have direction, it’s the fact that you still have a choice in the matter. 

your love of history put you in a museum, here you bumped into Steve in a horrible disguise. he struck up the conversation first, and once you got past the whole “holy crap that’s Captain America”, you could actually engage with him in the material and boi was he smitten 

he would love to join you when your rewatched your fave things, bc not only is he catching up on more media he missed out on, he’s also getting to know your interests in a way that’s comfortable with you. it avoids all the small talk, but leaves room for discussion after the film/show ! 

since you tend to sponge up a lot of what other people believe, it’s totally Steve who actually tries to question what you think and what you feel about things. he’s someone who encourages you to have your own opinions and to stay true to those thoughts. so while with him, you can rely on him to learn about yourself, you also gain skills for independence

overall, Steve is super patient, and despite his chaotic job as Cap, he takes comfort in his routine, and would find comfort incorporating a partner’s routine into his life. and as you grow in a relationship with him, he’s patient about teaching you how to be your own person, and helping you learn more about yourself. and while it’s uncomfortable, you grow stronger throughout being with him :) 

For The Hobbit - I ship you with Bilbo Baggins !

Bilbo is the definition of introvert, and you're right there with him

not that introversion is ever a bad thing, bc it isn't. but Bilbo is quite content to sit in his little hobbit hole and vibe. like Gandalf had to come find him, ya know. dude disappeared from his own bday.

but anyways. it's not that Bilbo lacks purpose, it's just that he's more content with a quieter life. and it seems like his quiet life would balance you out well! like the Shire is so so chill, and there doesn't really seem to be a lot of pressure on the hobbits to pick a profession. like they just genuinely do what needs to get done.

similarly, Bilbo is the type who seems a little bothered by mushy displays of affection. exhibit a: disappearing from his own bday. like he's much more the type to refill your tea when y'all are reading by the fireplace, which he would totally do w you

it will probs take you a little while to warm up to each, given just how introverted you both are. but when he explains that he has set ways of doing things, then if they're compatible w your ways of doing things, then it doesn't take you long to open up to him

like it'll be a little jarring, but he takes comfort in his routines too. and it'll be an event trying to incorporate both of your ways of life together, but he's willing to do it

overall, yours is a very quaint partnership, built on deep respect for one another. neither of you are going to push the other to do things you aren't into. and y'all just live your best lives together tbh :)

For The Man From U.N.C.L.E - I ship you with Illya Kuryakin !

I love my big Russian spy so much, so this is fun for me

so Illya is the epitome of reserved and generally quiet, so it might take a while to really break down his walls and talk to him. and he's not quite sure what to do with you once you join the team

but, he's playing his game of chess alone, and when you sit down and ask to play with him, he opens up a little more after that

if you're one who get sent out on mission with the team, get ready, bc sometimes those missions require a lot of improvising. but you'd probably be at whatever 'base' was, helping run operations from a more secure place. but Illya and Napoleon improvise a lot, leading to a lot of headaches for you and Waverly

Illya has small bursts of anger, but similar to Gaby, most times, you can intervene and he doesn't get violent. or when he does, he tries to make sure it isn't in front of you. but bc you care so deeply for him, you're there for him in the aftermath. and that's how you show your love for him.

by patching him up if he gets cut, by talking him down when he's angry. and just generally trying to take care of him. and he totally does the same for you, especially if you get sent out into the field

and much to Illya's dismay, Solo doesn't refrain form making jokes about you. but if you can take them in stride, then Solo welcomes you into the team just as well :)

[honestgrins]

could you do a continuation of chapter 29/49??

I'm glad you liked Reflection and Retribution, but I think I'm done with that universe. Could I interest you in Private Investigator!Caroline hired to infiltrate a criminal organization instead?

Also, many thanks to @recyclingss for being a kind ear and a supportive voice as I try to find my writing groove again. Thanks for the love, lovely (and sorry it’s not a new chapter of Burned)!!

Wanted || Klaroline

A squeak of hinges was all she had in the way of warning. Hurrying to tuck the files she'd been snooping through back into their respective cabinets, Caroline needed an excuse for her presence in the boss's office - and she needed one fast.

To give herself a bit more time, she slipped into the private bathroom. Her purse was lighter than her usual go-bag for an investigation, but that was the peril of working undercover. She shuffled through it anyway, only to find the makeup she needed to reapply between shifts, her wallet, car keys, and Taser. Fortunately, she had learned to be resourceful, and a plan quickly formed with what she had. 

Unfortunately, the plan could go very wrong. As footsteps sounded through the door, however, her time to improvise had run out. Slathering on a fresh layer of lipstick for luck, Caroline fluffed her hair and made her presence known. "Sorry to intrude, Mr. Mikaelson, I just— Who the hell are you?”

Her winning smile had fallen flat at the stranger making eyes down the line of her mostly bare leg. True, the outfit had been meant to draw attention, but he wasn't her intended target. She'd been expecting the fastidious Elijah Mikaelson, with perfectly tailored suits and a too polite charm that just screamed serial killer underneath. This guy was far messier with untidy curls and the paint-splattered jeans. Cute, though. And that smirk.

"Mr. Mikaelson," he answered cheekily, "but please, call me Klaus." Making himself a drink from the bar cart, he poured a second glass for her. His brow arched when she refused. "Come to ask favors of the boss, but you won't drink his liquor. I assure you, he only buys the good stuff."

"I'm fine, thanks." She narrowed her gaze as he draped himself over one of the armchairs, giving her another appreciative look. "I thought the brother's name was Kol?"

His nose scrunched. "Unfortunately, there are five Mikaelson brothers. A sister, too. Nosy for a dancer, aren't you? Most of those 'Lijah keeps on the roster know to mind their business."

A mild panic took over; she was usually better at playing it cool. Now, she was going to get busted for asking too many questions. If she couldn't handle the unexpected brother, she really had no chance at taking on the mob boss himself. "Not a dancer yet," Caroline answered, aiming for sheepish with her hands tucked into the tight back pockets of her shorts. "I'm just a waitress until a stage shift opens up."

Ideally, she would be long gone before that happened, if only to avoid breaking an ankle in the heels. Not even her most rigorous pageant training could have prepared her for the skill those things took to work. That, and she needed to tidy up this case fast to get Damon Salvatore off her speed dial. And Stefan - she never would have accepted the job had he not played the friend card. Her only solace was the fact they agreed to double her usual rate for a job like this. 

The tips were pretty great, too. Even just waitressing had earned her some nice spending money to splurge on clothes and pampering. Had the high-end strip club not been a front for Elijah Mikaelson to launder his ill-gotten gains, she might seriously consider moonlighting once the gig was over.

With the way the boss’s brother was eyeing her, though, that might happen sooner than she’d like. It wouldn’t do to get found out before she could track down what Damon asked her to find, and she did not relish the idea of handing back the hefty check he’d already given. Bristling, she crossed her arms, hoping to annoy him off the scent of her subterfuge. “Can I help you?”

Klaus, however, seemed unperturbed by her attitude. “If it’s better pay you’re after, I might have an opportunity for you.” When she gave an outraged splutter, he merely waved her off. “Not quite what you’re thinking, love, though I apologize for any offense. I’m in the market for a new model.”

“For your burgeoning porn empire? No, thanks.”

“I’m an artist, I would like to paint you,” he clarified with a wry grin. Leaning forward on his knees, he lowered his voice as though letting her in on a secret. “Any wardrobe choices — or lack thereof — would be entirely up to you.”

Sensing his interest wasn’t entirely aesthetic, Caroline figured she might as well learn what she could from the cad. “Don’t try to play me. The girls at the club talk, you know. I heard a rumor the Mikaelsons were, like, connected. The whole starving artist thing doesn’t really add up, so I’ll pass.”

Again, his gaze focused on her in an assessing way, lips still curled up. He took the bait. This was almost too easy. “I do alright, family connections aside,” he joked. “Perhaps you’d like to see some of my work...” Trailing off, he left her with an expectant look.

She pretends to cover a flattered expression with irritation. “Candy.”

“And if I were to check Elijah’s meticulous hiring paperwork?”

A beat passed. “Candice,” she relented with a sigh, reminding herself to buy Bonnie something gorgeous to thank her for crafting a bulletproof identity, complete with an otherwise authentic Social Security card and active social media accounts. “Candice Moore.”

That smirk of his spread to a full smile, and she was a bit stunned to see the utter delight on his face. “Funny,” he said, standing to move closer. Without meaning to, she swayed toward him in return, only to catch herself when he gave a teasing tug to her tousled braid. All her attention snapped to the mere foot between them, then to the intense blue of his eyes. "You look more like a Caroline to me."

Rearing back, she blindly reached into her bag. But Klaus was calm and collected as he plucked the Taser from her grasp. "Now, no need to panic, Ms. Forbes. I merely want to talk."

"Bullshit," she huffed. "How—”

He sat back in his chair, watching her with obvious amusement. "You're good. The cover might have worked had your application not been flagged by my security team. Don't feel bad, they're very thorough.”

The pieces were falling into place faster than she realized they were even missing. Unfortunately, she couldn't make herself focus past the first big answer. She finally took the drink he'd poured for her and downed it in one gulp. More potent than she thought, her voice was hoarse after a bracing cough. "Your security team."

His smirk was positively evil. "You seemed determined to learn the particulars of my organization, sweetheart, though I'm sorry to disappoint that Elijah's file cabinet wasn't able to satisfy your...professional curiosity. I, however, am more than interested in your questions." 

With a snap of his fingers, the office door squeaked, and Caroline caught only a peek of the guard she hadn't even noticed lurking outside before the lock clicked into place. Alone with an underground kingpin without a weapon, she fell back into the other chair like the sitting duck she was. "I don't suppose I could distract you by accepting the modeling offer," she tried with a weak laugh.

Ever the surprise, he chuckled with her. "Always. But if you tell me what I want to know, I can offer you a far more lucrative employment. Good private eyes are hard to find, and you're the first to get this far without ruffling feathers."

"I ruffled yours, didn't I?"

If his smirk was evil, his bright smile was disarming. "Who hired you? I believe I owe them a nice thank you for this introduction."

Caroline watched him carefully, confused at the game he was playing. "My clients pay for results and discretion," she answered politely. "If you were to secure my services, with a healthy retainer fee—"

"Of course."

"—I would promise you the same. Unfortunately," she sighed with a pout, "I think this little mishap constitutes a conflict of interest. But thank you for your interest in Forbes Investigations. Can I go now?"

He leaned forward on his knees, his hands folded in front of him. "You know, I might be of some help to your current clients. Were I to assist in your investigation, there would be no conflict at all. The opposite, in fact."

Chewing her lip in thought, she shook her head and decided to cut her losses. "It has nothing to do with the business, not really," she promised. "I've been tasked with finding someone, someone I thought your brother might be supporting with some creative accounting. That's all."

"Don't tell me," Klaus groaned. "Katerina conned your clients then clawed her way back into Elijah's good graces to hide from the consequences of her own actions."

She scoffed. "Says the guy who lets the world think his brother is a criminal mastermind while he's pulling the strings behind the scenes."

Smirking, he didn't seem offended in the slightest. "Elijah's better with paperwork, but his decision-making is unreliable. I think Katerina is example enough of that."

"Fair." Caroline only met her once, but everything she had learned since Damon hired her painted quite the picture. That, and the fact she all but disappeared after he gave her an heirloom engagement ring, despite the fact she was openly gunning for Stefan throughout their entire relationship. "But it sounds like this was a surprise to you, too, so you probably can't be of much help to me in finding her."

"Reverse psychology is beneath you," he flirted. "And I've already offered to help. You're the one being stubborn."

With a roll of her eyes, she finally stood to pour herself another drink. "Yeah, I'm the stubborn one. You probably have a hundred investigators already on staff. What do you want with little, old me?"

He just smiled. "You want my secrets, you'll have to earn them, love. Now, do we have a deal?"

Oh, she was going to regret this; if only she wasn't so damn intrigued. Draining her glass, she set it on the table between them with a thunk before stretching out her hand. "Deal."

Klaus shook her hand with a firm grip, the contact distracting to say the least. Then, he just had to open his mouth. "The modeling job is a standing offer, by the way."

"Good to know."

[fictionbyafangirl]

Tundric Heart

//Hi, all! After becoming absolutely *obsessed* with the new Mortal Kombat movie, as well as being a fan since the games began, and being a fan of JoTa since I saw The Raid: Redemption when it first came out and since then, I decided my flagship fic shall involve Bi-Han/Sub-Zero. This takes place prior to the film, having nine tournaments been fought. This is a POV-shifter and involves our favorite chilly boi with an original character. Naturally, I own no rights to the franchised character and only write out of my own fun.  I hope you enjoy!\\

Nothing phased him anymore. Bi-Han had lived many centuries, each reinforcing his growing lack of humanity toward the world, whether it be Earthrealm or Outworld. Due to his “gifts”, Bi-Han had become a favorite champion for Shang Tsung in the Mortal Kombat tournaments, successful in more than not and ultimately becoming an attack dog at the sorcerer's will. Despite Bi-Han wanting the Lin Keui to be free-agents once again, himself, primarily, he obliged, knowing he owed Shang Tsung his fealty for the many favors he performed for him in the past. The Lin Keui had been an elite group of assassins for those who could afford them. Either born into the organization or kidnapped as a youngling for the cause, its numbers were always plentiful. Bi-Han and his brother, Kuai Liang, had served the clan well, rising through the ranks. Bi-Han, though, had become the face of the group. The fierce fighter had gained notoriety for defeating the one and only Hanzo Hasashi, as well as the Shirai Ryu, a noble competitor clan in their world of crime. Over four hundred years had passed, yet a looming whisper of a threat still hung in the air from the very fatality that put Bi-Han on the map. Ever the paranoid ruler, Tsung tasked Bi-Han with finding the last remaining Hasashi blood heir and executing them. To the cryomancer, there was simply no point in doing so. He had ended the lineage himself many lifetimes ago. The Hasashi family fell to his hand, and he knew it, first-hand. Still, the soul-eater feared the prophecy of the uprising of Earthrealm defenders to thwart the imminent takeover, if the last tournament should be victoriously won by the mortals with an arcana gift. Nine circuits had been finished in the favor of Tsung, only needing two more to claim supremacy over the mortals. Begrudgingly, Bi-Han found himself in his home-realm on a reconnaissance mission to find out if the myth was true. One thing the warrior loathed was to be undermined, especially by Tsung. His employer had a knack for sending in the reinforcements if the smallest of setbacks occurred. Bi-Han was more than confident in his skill and ability to successfully fulfill his duties. To send in those that were inferior to him was simply a slap in the face. Not a day went by that the assassin didn’t think of a world where he no longer served Tsung.

The man was ageless as he sat across from a run-down diner, concealed in darkness. Darkness had always been his friend, even in the glory days of the Lin Kuei and the chaos they inflicted on their world. Darkness cloaked him in secrecy. Darkness gave him advantage against his opponents. Darkness felt almost as familiar and second nature to him as the cold. It had been a rainy evening, the spray of dingy gutter water spraying up from beneath the tires of those driving muddled the sidewalk. Bi-Han, looking not a single day older than he had when he terminated Hasashi, watched the neon sign that indicated that the diner was “open” flicker against the night. Dressed in black athletic jogger pants, a black zipped-up windbreaker jacket and a black hat with the bill curved and pulled down low to conceal his other-worldly eyes, the man watched from outside an abandoned building that sat adjacent to the diner. Arguably, the only physical trait that had changed about him was the hue of his eyes, shifting from a deep brown to a starkly bright  blue so pale that it nearly looked like ice had formed in his irises. These were the attributes of a cryomancer, and bastard Edenians, alike. Those of Edenian nature aged much slower than humans, living so long that tens of thousands of years was still considered to be in one’s youth. His hair remained raven in color though his skin did grow more pallid as though encrusted in frost, but not. The cryomancers had been banished from Edenia long before Bi-Han’s birth, but the genes that descended from the gods still carried on through himself and his brother, Kuai. Down the block, a group of young men were approaching the corner door of the diner, rowdy and raucous as they walked before ducking into the establishment. Taped hands rose from Bi-Han’s sides to bring the hood of his skim jacket up and over the top of his head, further obscuring his identity. He waited a few minutes to allow them to settle into their normal places to not rouse suspicion before crossing the slick city street. In all of the years of Bi-Han’s life, he had tuned his tracking abilities to be imperceptible.

His intel told him that a group of men, one that bore the mark of the dragon, frequented the very location nightly, as though a ritual amongst the friends. Bi-Han’s head never lifted as the bell on the handle of the door jingled to alert a new customer, and luckily, neither did theirs. His gaze remained to the lower-half of the room to not allow his face to be seen. The fluorescent lights that lined the ceiling in panels glared harshly in contrast against the natural darkness of the night he had waited in. Slipping into a corner table, the plastic-covered stuffing of the seat gave out a subtle hissed as it depressed beneath his weight. The group of men continued their merry occasion, joking and talking with elevated volume. The more attention they brought to themselves and detracted from himself, the better. It didn't take long for the waitress on shift to approach them, seemingly having a report with them as she used their names, engaging in banter with them as they shamelessly flirted with her. Her kind and clever rebuffs and deflection to their order inquiries showed that this was an occasional thing they did. She clearly wasn’t in the business of seeing any of them casually, yet they pushed the envelope with hope. Their nonchalance toward her left little disgust in Bi-Han’s mouth, but still, he surveyed. The fighter spared a moment to take in the new environment. The faded color scheme and furniture showed that the restaurant had not updated in some time, clearly struggling financially to keep afloat to bother with aesthetics. The tables were uneven as they stood and the seating creaked under pressure. The artwork that laid scarcely among the walls were drab and unappealing. Virtually everything that had been a polished metal before now rusted with weak infrastructure. The location was dying out, most likely kept in business by the nightly patronage of the subjects he followed in. 

Bi-Han focused all of his senses on the men, discreetly, as to not be noticed. He eavesdropped on their conversations, watched as they removed their outer-layers for any sign of the marking. He even committed bits of things they said to memory in the off-chance that it would aid him in his mission. His focus was solely on the group and everything they did. His gaze, though hidden beneath the bill of a hat, was fixated without any breaks, that is, until the image of an apron filled with pens and order tablets slid into his view. Bi-Han held his breath as the tell-tale spiel was about to be given to him. 

“Hi, there! I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. My name’s Jill and I’ll be your waitress on duty tonight. What can I get you?” No matter where you went, every restaurant had the same, generic greeting. 

Holding his breath for a moment to consider his response, Bi-Han decided to play it cool, not wanting to garner any awareness of his existence. The woman was polite enough for him to not care about the disruption. While she had been tending to the object of his assignment he had been able to get a good look over on her. She was attractive with cream-like skin and smoky hazel eyes and hair the color of maple that sat in delicate, loose curls that cascaded down the sides of her face. She dressed semi-comfortably in a baggy button-up flannel shirt that she tucked into the waistband of her tapered jeans that clung to her ankles and simple shoes with her apron and a name badge in place. She kept her makeup natural and modest, which was a pleasant thing to come across with women. With an errant hand, Bi-Han, without tipping his face at all, flipped the menu on the table over to quickly peruse the refreshments section. Quickly, his eyes settled on his selection before speaking it aloud to her, though in a low, hushed tone.

“Green tea. Iced.” His tone was short and cold, as per usual with him, and he offered no opportunity to continue the conversation. He was there for a reason, after all.

With a curt nod, Jill fished a dense book of ordering tickets from her apron and a pen to scribble down the table number and order to keep her tabs in-line. Bi-Han could hear the sound of the ball-point pen against the paper, attuning himself to his surrounding once more.

“Iced green tea, coming right up. What’s uh… a name I can put on this order?” The waitress inquired with an arched brow as her teeth found the corner of her lips, nibbling gently in a nervous gesture. Bi-Han took another moment to contemplate his response. His true, given name was something that was well-known. Instead, he improvised.

“Brian.” He was blunt again, cutting to the chase without any inflection to invite casual conversation.

“Right. Iced green tea for Brian, coming right up.” Jill relayed before bouncing away from the table to fulfill his request. She caught on to his tone quickly and read it loud and clear.

Naturally his order was the first one to be completed. Jill returned with his drink in-hand, along with a wrapped straw and a saucer of potential add-ins for the beverage. Bi-Han offered a small nod to thank her, fixating his senses back on the group of men across the room. Absently, he unwrapped the straw and slipped it within the glass, taking absent sips through it to not reveal his face. The preparation in the States certainly didn’t do the authentic drink justice as it did in his native China, but still he managed to swallow it down as he kept his eyes on them. Although the drink had ice in it, it didn’t suit him. His hand reached around the cylinder, his fingers releasing their icy powers to chill it even further, finally making it satisfactory to his liking. Bi-Han sat with his back pressed against the glass window that separated himself from the outside world. The rain continued to fall, pelting against the window pane. He could just as easily end the waiting and watching. He could turn every plunging bead of water into a lethal bullet to litter all of the men in holes, taking care of every lead. Still, he blended into the foreground, motionless and silent.  He wasn’t sure how long the men would lounge in the diner but he would be observing for as long as they would be. Someone was bound to slip and reveal themselves, reveal their arcana��� something. If Bi-Han was anything, he was patient.