#get yourself someone who will fake their death and disguise themselves to take your hand in marriage like her

[muzetrigger]

I stayed up all night binging Nevermore and I have exactly one (1) regret: I caught up with it.

Holy hell, this is the perfect read for Halloween. Edgar Allen Poe, lesbians, and spirits from all over.

I literally cannot believe I didn’t read this sooner, so now I’m just forwarding this to everyone and probably preaching to a choir.

I guess it also strikes me that maybe it isn’t normal for a person to read 100+ webcomic episodes on a work night, but honestly, screw that, please give me more (or take all the time you need! God, I can’t imagine the effort that goes into drawing a weekly series and the authors deserve every bit of good fortune coming their way)

[tnsophiaonly]

imagine: cw. death, yandere/obsessive behavior, reader having a thing for pure things.. can be read as platonic or romantic idc

this may or may not be self indulgent ♡︎♡︎ I JUST LOVE IT WHEN THEY'RE THE NICE AND PURE ONE LIKE HAPPY HAPPY (we can see that bc Gaming... Ehem!!)

You're cursed to forever be alive or immortality (and a dangerous charm). You have met so many corrupt people who just can't have enough of you, to escape them you'd have to fake your death.

Then one day, as disguised as someone that looks similar to you but so different. You meet such a pure and cute character, they're so nice it's unnatural because of the amount of horrible people you've met.

You of course, treat them so differently, you treat people with distrust, coldness, straightforwardness and apathetically that they almost thought you were a different person whenever the said character is here!

You'd always coo them, take care of them, always have a hand on a part of their body anywhere. Of course, they aren't immune to your charm, they'd be a blushing mess, blabbering and stuttering, but they love it, they wouldn't push you away no matter what.

They at first thought of this as wrong, but they soon basked in your attention and they'd fall harder, they would ponder whether to keep you to themselves but they can't do it at all as you're so strong... So experienced...!

So they just indulge themselves. Of course the other characters who had to go through the loss of you when you faked your death—which they aren't aware of— feels an eerie familiarity to your whole being.

They can't help but see you as their darling, you'd intentionally slip your identity only to leave them gaslighted into thinking they're just imagining things. It's only fair they get to suffer too.

So whenever they see you act so lovey-dovey when it comes to the nice and pure character, they can't help but feel jealous. So jealous. But they don't really know why.

You of course found yourself so attached to the said nice and cute character that you can't help yourself but keep them. They wouldn't mind! After all, you've always noticed the same dark swirl in their eyes like everybody else does, you just have to be careful to keep their slight purity ♡︎.

Genshin: BENNETT, MIKA, GAMING, FREMINET, All the children/lolis (strictly platonically only!), Chongyun, Amber, Barbara, Collei, Fischl, Ganyu, Kirara, Layla, NOELLE, Razor, SUCROSE, THOMA, Xiangling, Yoimiya, Yunjin, etc.

Honkai Star Rail: All children (strictly platonically), GEPARD, Huohuo, ARLAN, Guinafe, Lynx, March 7th, MISHA, Sushang, etc!

[yourheartonfire]

Part three of the villain discovering hero is their best friend in disguise and manipulating them into a relationship.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here.

As it turned out, the villain was not prepared to face the hero again. Not when they knew it was their best friend inside the costume, their lover whom they'd nursed for weeks. The speech they'd had ready to go flew out of their head entirely the moment that the hero leapt down 20 feet from an adjoining rooftop and landed on that still-healing ankle.

"What the hell are you doing to yourself!" the villain yelled before they could stop themselves.

The hero blinked. At least, thank god, the villain had managed to keep their voice in that gravelly growl that hero hadn't recognized yet. 

"Aw, worried about me?" the hero said with a smirk just a hair less confident than normal.

The villain scoffed and paced to the right, watching carefully as their lover countered to the left. "I believe I made it clear what would happen if you were foolish enough to turn down my mercy," they sneered. 

"Your mercy?" the hero said, fists clenching. "You shattered my ankle!"

They charged at lightning speed. The villain dodged by the skin of their teeth, feeling electrified.

It wasn't their memory playing tricks on them - the hero, as hero, moved completely differently than their best friend. Their best friend had a certain casual athleticism, but the hero flowed - graceful, strong, fast, capable of supernatural stunts. It was like the difference between a kids soccer game and Olympic level gymnastics. The villain was starting to get some ideas, ideas about their friend's endless research projects and those late nights at the college biochemistry labs.

"How was your convalescence?" the villain said, circling warily. "Been spending a lot of nights alone, in pain, thinking of me?"

It was bait and the hero swallowed it whole. "I'm not alone. Some of us are capable of love."

"How sweet." The villain feinted left, dodged right out of the corner hero was trying to trap them in. "Some adoring groupie who doesn't mind sharing you with the night?" 

As the villain expected, the hero stuttered over their feet. "You leave them out of this," they snapped, even as their shoulders rolled up. Tension and guilt. So predictable. 

The villain tipped their head, as if noticing. "They... do know, don't they? About your little vigilante habit?" The hero's eyes dropped. So. Predictable. "Surely someone so self-righteous isn't lying to their partner?"

"Why don't you leave my love life to me?" the hero snapped.

The villain threw backntheir head and cackled. "Oh no. See, I'll admit it: I have been thinking about you, [Hero]. Thinking about you underneath me, all the sounds you made that night. And I don't want to share." The hero pulled up short, eyes widening. The villain flexed their hands. "I was thinking, I want to hear those sounds again from you. But maybe i should find this oblivious partner of yours first."

With a howl, the hero flung themselves at the villain. The villain threw up their hands and let loose their wide blast of sunlight. Instantly they felt an answering burst of panic in their chest - What if they were wrong? What if the hero wasn't back to full speed? What if they'd just killed - ?

But the hero dove and tucked into a roll under the beam. By the time they were back up to their feet, the villain had gone.

The villain was already halfway back to their own apartment when they got the text they were hoping to get.

U up?

The villain grinned to themselves. Yeah. Papers graded?

A long pause. Y. Can I come ovr?

Sure. ;-)

As it turned out, the villain was not prepared to see their lover again out of costume, not when clinging to the villain's doorframe, looking like death warmed over. "Oh thank god you're okay," the hero had the nerve to say.

"Sugar, what-?" the villain said, not having to fake their shock. They'd expected hero gloomy, hero guilt-ridden, but not hero on the verge of collapse. They hadn't looked this bad since the hospital. Right after the last time they'd been out playing [Hero].... "Did you walk here from campus? On a broken leg?!"

"Might've overdone it," their best friend muttered. They pushed themselves up and hissed in pain. 

The villain made a choked noise of rage and scooped their idiotic nemesis up into their arms. 

"Whoa!" The hero blinked at them, gave a half-hearted struggle. "I can walk. Still got dosage..."

"Liar." The villain was not super strong, but they gritted their teeth and staggered to the bedroom, dropping hero unceremoniously onto the mattress. Had they ever seen friend right after a night battling [Hero]? In the hospital they'd chalked the hero's state up to the pain of their broken leg. But was this happening every time their friend put on the mask and turned themselves into [Hero]? "Stay," they barked and stormed to the bathroom, found their bottle of Vicodin. The hero, sallow and tense with pain, swallowed the pills down without protest.

Within a few minutes some of their color had come back. Their muscles eased and their head lolled into the pillows. The villain rubbed their palm into the hero's back, gently pressing the thumb right into that one stubborn knot in their shoulder. The hero moaned softly. 

"What did you take, sugar?" the villain whispered.

"Wha?"

"You said you had dosage."

The hero shook their head. "Didn't account for the loss of tolerance, or the amount of... of white blood cells the damaged bones would eat up. Gotta make some notes..."

They tried to sit up. The villain gently pulled them back down, tucking them close in that way they liked. "It'll wait. Did you... have you been dosing yourself with something you made?"

The hero gave them a sly, dizzy smile in answer.

"Is it something you've been testing on yourself?" The villain tried to keep their voice calm. "Does it do this to you every time you...?"

But the hero was out, soft and warm and sleeping cozily in their lover's arms. The villain collapsed back against the pillows. They could pull their arm free now. But they didn't. 

"What the hell are you doing to yourself?" they said out loud for the second time that night.

Now continued here!

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Traitor.”

Going to be working on this one for a while. Hope you guys enjoy the update :)

He did his best to stay calm even as he was led into another room and introduced to their drake boss. He tried to keep his expression somewhere between an easy smile and a thoughtful nod, let them think he was really considering their offer, really considering  their offer to go out and murder himself.

It was all just so unbelievable.

He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that the chairwoman would want  him killed. He thought the two of them were long time allies. He thought she had been the one, along with Admiral Kelly, to support his rise to the rank of captain when all of this began. What had happened between now and then to necessitate her desire to kill him.

He had to admit that he was both hurt and concerned for himself.

His brother Thomas was out there posing as him while the universe's most powerful politician plotted to end his life. She had the strength of the entire GA Armada behind her. He doubted all the ships would attack the omen if she asked, but at least some of them would, and without him there to maneuver the ship…. He worried that they wouldn’t last through a fight.

His stomach churned as the two pirate  women spoke among each other trying to make him believe a lie. His stomach tied itself into another knot. He was surrounded by an entire galaxy of people who wanted to kill him, and for what?

Because the human race was growing too powerful politically? And somehow he had something to do with it.

Despite suddenly being thrown into politics at a young age, he knew that he didn’t understand them. He was a pilot and a soldier first and foremost, and he found that being a politician required lying to people and in ways that he just wasn’t capable of. He knew he was in a vulnerable position.

The two women finished their little speeches, satisfied that they had followed him, and he nodded to them as he was led back out into the hall. Cannon walked behind him the entire time spear held at the ready, ready to cut down anyone who tried anything. He had no doubt that they would be able to handle Beatrice and Geea. The Drev was no great shakes as a warrior and Beatrice behaved more like a  crack addict with a knife than she did a fighter. Between him and Cannon they could take the two of them out.

In fact, Adam could probably take both of them at once if he had to, though he didn’t relish the idea.

He had a feeling that the two of them were being used just as anyone else might be. They weren’t working for themselves but being manipulated by a system that didn’t want to get in trouble itself.

The two of them were just patsies.

They led him out of the room and back into the main thoroughfare of the pirate waystation. Where once he had been excited to view all of the cool and illegal technology, he now felt sick to his stomach. Neon lights flashed above him under colorful ad campaigns for new jetpacks and all he could think of was the betrayal.

He needed to talk to someone. Immediately.

“I must return to my ship to make preparations.”

“We will come with you.”

He shook his head, “No, I need you to make sure that the rest of my men are getting along in the equipment they find. If they don’t get what we need then the mission is a bust, so you better make sure things go smoothly.

He didn’t wait for them to respond, but turned on his heel and made his way back towards the ship, his boots clattering on the metal flooring.

Beatrice said something rude behind him, but he ignored her for the most part.

He didn’t care about her at this point, she was simply a pawn in a larger game.

And while they were pawns….. Well that would have to make him a King, which honestly wasn’t much better than a pawn.

He was a target for an assassination, and the entire board felt like it was moving around them, and the opposing queen had him in her sights.

He was going to have to change that.

He stepped into the tube leading him into his “fake” pirate ship.

It had been a lot of fun pretending to be a pirate over the past few months or so, allowing words of his deeds to spread in just the right circles, and crafting elaborate stories of daring encounters with UNSC cargo ships who were willing to help him with his plan. For the most part it had all gone off without a hitch, and he had been able to live out every child’s fantasy of becoming a pirate.

But now, now the jig was up and the fun was over. He was going to have to figure out something in the next few hours.

He stepped onto the ship and headed towards his rooms, shutting the door behind himself before setting up a secure transmission to the Omen. The line that he sent the transmission out on was disguised as some sort of manifest request to an orbiting ship above. No one would find anything interesting about it, though the signal would be intercepted by the Omen and opened on another secure channel, which generally tended to be used to monitor cosmic feedback.

He waited there for a moment as the device rang a few times, and then the screen sputtered to life.

The picture wasn’t the greatest quality, but they had made sure to do that over the past few days to hide any of the small quirks about Thomas that would have made him easy to identify as an imposter.

“Cargo?”

The word was a pre made code word asking if it was safe to speak out of character.

Thomas would respond with either, “Goods, or weapons.” The first meaning go and the second meaning stop.

“Goods.”

The image before him cleared up, and his brother's face peered back at him from the camera. He had to admit, they had done a good job in making him look Like Adam. He had tousled blond hair and eyepatch and likely makeup to adjust the structure of his face. All in all, it was pretty impressive, but being Adam and Thomas being his brother he could definitely tell. Thomas was shorter and a bit thinner than he was, though he had filled out since joining the marines, and his hair was a shade or two off from Adam’s.

“You good?” Thomas asked, flipping up the eye patch to show his real eye.

Adam sighed, and rested his elbows on the table before him, “There has been a….. A massive compilation, and I’m not sure what to do.”

Lord Avex still sat on his shoulder, and had been surprisingly quiet since the revelation about the chairwoman. 

“Are Sunny Krill and the others there, I need to talk to them.”

Thomas nodded and shuffled on the other side of the camera for a minute before returning.

“How about physically. Haven't had the shit kicked out of you, have you?”

Adam shook his head, “No, no I’m alright, Just mentally reeling at this point.”

He rubbed his temples trying to stave off the headache he could feel coming on.

There was a soft thud and hiss, and the door behind Thomas opened.

Sunny stepped into the room and hurried over to the monitor resting her hand on the back of the chair Thomas sat in, “Adam, are you alright!” The worry in her voice was palpable. She had wanted to come along on the mission with him, but he had reasoned that she was  too recognizable. Even if they had changed her colors it would have been far too easy to  identify her. She hadn’t like that, but had still agreed to stay behind.

“I’m alright, physically anyway, and so are the others.”

“You’ve figured out who their leader is.”

Adam went quiet, and by the looks he was receiving, he knew that they could sense the tension in his face, “Wait till the others get here.”

Just when he said it, the door hissed open again and Simon, Dr. Katie and Krill walked into hte room.

Dr Krill inflated his helium sack and floated into the air, looking him over with a critical eye for a long moment, “You don’t seem injured, so that is a good sign.”

Adam sighed and shook his head, “I wish that were the case.” 

“I don’t understand.”

“I mean I would rather be beaten up than dealing with the real problem at this point.” He rested his head against his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Look, this is going to sound absolutely insane, so I will just go ahead and send you the recording.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the recording device he had taken with him dropping it into the little well on the communications array. There was a soft whirr and it slowly levitated upward and began to spin. The video was played back for the others to see, and they watched in silence ad growing horror as the Chairwoman of the GA plotted his death.

When the recording cut off, the group of them stared at him with wide eyes.

Sunny shook her head, “This makes no sense.”

“Why would she…..”

Adam shook his head, “I don’t know…. I thought we were on good terms, but it seems as if that is no longer the case. THe GA is against us, or at least the head of the GA is. I don’t know who is loyal to us, and I certainly don’t know who to trust.”

It was then that lord Avex piped up hopping down from Adam’s shoulder, “The Celzex will always be on your side, Admiral. That is why I came on this mission, that is why your ship is the only one equipped with our weaponry.” he stamped one of his feet, “We will wipe her and her puny planet off the map.”

Adam raised a hand, “Woah…. woah , I don’t know about that. We have to do this carefully. I doubt she is acting with the entire interest of her species in mind, but more likely a small group of people. If we are going to deal with her we will want to confront her quietly where no one else is going to get hurt.

Lord Avex didn’t seem particularly pleased about that turn of events, but he kept quiet and allowed Adam to continue.

“We need to expose her publicly is what we need.”

Sunny shook her head, “And how do you plan to do that. There is already the problem of you having to assassinate yourself, which really isn’t going to do us well at this moment in time.”

He shook his head, “IT will be easy to take care of the pirates, they aren't all that smart and taking them out won’t be difficult. Just let them board the ship and then we can deal with them from there. After that is what I am worried about. We need her to show her hand, and we need to gather plenty of evidence. What I have right now is good, but if we can find something better, then that will ease my mind.”

He stood and paced back and forth slightly across the room, “We need…. We need to open me up to them. We need to make it look like I am vulnerable, we need to give them a chance to carry everything out, make it look like I am an easy target. Let thor guard down, and then when they come for me, we close around them like a bear trap and they will be none the weiser.” He tapped his fingers against the table, “You can’t help but leave some kind of digital trail in a time like this, it is completely impossible, if we have one end of her plot in a public setting, than we can unravel it right before her eyes and there will be nothing she can do about it.” 

Krill, who had been mostly quiet for this time shook his head, “It seems strange that she would involve herself so closely. Using a proxy to do all the work for her would at least give her plausible deniability, why would she do it herself ?”

It was Thomas’s turn to pipe in, “Seems easy enough. She’s the only one she can trust. If what you say is true than I doubt she is going along with the interests of her own people. If she involves someone else than it is going to get messy for her especially if she doesn’t know where their loyalties really lie. She would have to make the decision to deal with it herself and ricks being caught, or risk being outed by the people that she trusted, and seeing that most of the Rundi are politicians at heart, it wouldn’t surprise me that she wouldn’t trust anyone ther than herself.” he waved a hand in the air, “They are grabbing for power just like she is, and they might see this as an opportunity to undermine her and set themselves up to become the new chancellor.”

He nodded slowly, that did make some measure of sense.

But how to pull hair out of hiding.

One thing at a time he supposed.

Outside he heard the sound of footsteps coming up the hall, and he turned to look at them making a quick hand signal, and the feed was cut off. He leaned back in his chair just as there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” He ordered, and the door opened up to reveal cannon trailed by Beatrice and Geea.

He growled internally

They continued to get in his way and were becoming  a real annoyance for his plan.

He was gong to have to deal with them soon.

“Ah, ladies, you’re back. Were we able to find all of our supplies.

Geea stepped forward, “I believe we have, now you better get to work quickly, my employer grows impatient with your stalling”

I bet she does, he thought standing and smiling to conceal the rage that was festering inside him. He walked over and patted the Drev on the arm, “Don’t worry, by this time tomorrow you will be all sorted out, and all of us can go happily on our merry way.”

He slipped past her and walked into the hall chin down eyes narrowed,  hands balled into fists slightly at his sides.

By this time tomorrow they could begin dealing with the traitors, whoever they may be.

[honeybeezx]

Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 2

Author’s Note: Hey all! Thank you for all the love on the first chapter! This one will have a lot more of our favorite prince and paramour and the reader is such a badass. I’m really having the most fun writing this you guys have no idea😄

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of sex

Enjoy, love you all and as always, feedback is welcome!

——————

The brothel smelled of incense and sex. The men who had paid for the services apparently had no reservations about silencing their pleasure, nor the women. You were mildly annoyed by it all. You didn’t care or consider it lowly to work or attend a brothel, but it just seemed so...fake. People pretending that what they were feeling was love or passion when really it was just men finding release, both from sex and from their normal lives, and women getting their coin.

Not that you really knew what actual love was like, but you did know it wasn’t this.

One of the girls brought you to a room near the back. The ornate doors swung open to reveal who you could only assume was the prince and his princess. You weren’t really sure what you expected, but you found yourself shocked. He looked princely, certainly, but you weren’t expecting him to be so...striking. Bronzed skin against golden cloth...he looked like a work of art. And his princess was equally captivating. Her dark locks cascading against her dress seemed to compliment her lover’s own clothes. They both seemed to have a strong demeanor, even while they were allowing themselves to be vulnerable, wrapped in each other’s arms. Both of their heads turned to look at you, brown eyes meeting yours. You wondered how their gaze could even fall upon you when you were presenting them with the finest women the capital could offer.

The women you now know as Ros introduced you by both birth name and the one bestowed upon you through the tales spread throughout Westeros. The prince smirked and narrowed his eyes at you. The woman in his arms might as well have been undressing you with her eyes.

“The Silver Hawk.” He smiled, taking you in. He left his paramour’s side to stand before you. Your guard wasn’t easily lowered by attractive people, but even you had to admit they were both intimidatingly beautiful. The prince’s exposed chest and the heat of the princess’s eyes had your heart beating faster than you cared to let on. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. My brother told me the stories about you and your silver arrows. Is it true that they were enchanted by the gods so that you can never miss?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I trained hard to achieve the level of skill I possess, I assure you.” The stories people told about you these days were becoming more absurd by the day. And you were slightly offended. To just be handed a gift with no hard work, no sense of accomplishment was no gift at all.

“Will we get the chance to see you prove that?” Ellaria asked hopefully as she joined her prince’s side.

“Perhaps.” If the Lannisters or any other of the terrible people in this city continued to annoy you, you didn’t doubt it, but you were not going to put on a show...Even if the Dornish woman did make your heart beat faster in your chest.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” She smiled with a wink.

You cleared your throat and focused. You were here for a reason after all, and that wasn’t to entertain the guests with your skill. “The hand of the king, Tyrion Lannister apologizes for his absence this evening, but he wanted to offer these ladies as a welcoming gift and hopes you’ll excuse him.”

“A gift indeed.” His eyes raked over you, the woman behind him smirking. “A shame that Tyrion hides such an exquisite woman behind the ugly walls of the Lannister dwelling. You should be out in the sun, letting more people admire your beauty. Too bad...In Dorne, it would be a crime to hide such a rare gem.” It almost seemed like the prince couldn’t hide his desire, even if he wanted to (which he most certainly didn’t). His eyes traveled everywhere, from the tips of your boots to the smallest hair on your head.

You’ve never experienced whiplash before, but you imagined it felt a bit like this. To say you were surprised was an understatement. Not many people could catch you off guard, but not many people were so bold, especially towards you. You could do little to disguise your shock and you took a moment to find your voice. “Prince Oberyn, I am not an option here if that is what you are implying.” You retorted, rather defensively.

“That is not what I am implying, but it is interesting that the thought occurred to you.” He flashed a devilish smile and you wanted nothing more than to punch it off his handsome face.

“That is not what I-“

The prince placed a finger to his lips and you wanted to scream with anger at how easy it was for him to silence you with one simple action. He grinned before backing away, returning to the Dornish woman. “Ellaria Sand, my paramour.”

“It’s a pleasure.” She greeted, her voice dripping with a sultriness that would have made someone with less composure than you blush.

“The pleasure is all mine.” You replied, trying to recover from their boldness. You tried to remain calm, you made a promise to Tyrion that you would make the guests feel welcome. Why he trusted you with this particular task was beyond you.

“Hmm, I doubt it.” Ellaria grinned her eyes still raking over you.

A room full of half-naked women and they settle on me.

Both of them, flirting with the same woman right before their own partners. It intrigued you that they both shared the same lover. Neither of them seemed to care much about the gender of whom they chose to sleep with, only their beauty. They possessed a different type of freedom, one you were unfamiliar with. Your freedom was found when you were hunting, climbing trees, the rare times you found yourself near an ocean. For them, it was shameless passion and love, taking pleasure anywhere they could get it unapologetically. Life was theirs to enjoy, nothing could take that from them.

Which is why you found the fact that they were singling in on your armor-clad body so shocking. You couldn’t comprehend how anything you were wearing could draw their attention in a lustful sort of way.

“You should reconsider, by the way. We are very generous lovers. What a privilege it would be to say we made love to the stunning Silver Hawk of the North.” Oberyn raised a brow at you as he took a berry between his teeth, tongue swiping against the tips of his teeth, making a show of himself before actually eating it.

You cursed your skin for becoming so hot.

“Let me make myself clear Prince Oberyn.” You began, finding some strength to your voice again as you remembered your place, your. “I am not a whore. These women here, they are your options. What you decide to do with them is your business, but I am a guard to the king’s hand and I demand to be treated as such. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must return to the palace.” You turned on your heel to leave, impossible without the prince having the last word.

“One more thing.” His voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned just enough to face him.

“When was the last time you experienced pleasure?”

All you could see was red.

“The first time I shot an arrow through an arrogant man’s chest.” Before you could stop your words they were already hung in the air. You were prepared for the prince to draw the dagger you noticed hanging at his hip, but he made no such move, his hands still around his paramour.

And he smiled.

“I look forward to seeing you again, Silver Hawk.”

“If I see the Red Viper again it will be too soon.”

You stormed out of the brothel, drawing looks from all those around you, but you didn’t care. They both got to you, in more ways than one. How did they break you down so easily? Not even the queen regent possessed such power.

And you prayed to the gods old and new that neither of them would tell Tyrion. You knew it was a false hope, but the last thing you needed was Tyrion scolding you and even worse, letting people know they could both get to you. Your whole life you let your rage burn quietly in your chest, letting it fuel you rather than consume you. But their smirks, their roaming eyes, their words made you feel something you hadn’t in a very long time.

And you threatened him, the Red Viper of Dorne. It wasn’t as if his reputation and stories escaped your ears. He was skilled with every weapon you could think of. To top it off, if he didn’t wish to kill you with a weapon, he was an expert in poisons as well. It was a relief that he wasn’t staying in the palace now, you’d have to find somewhere else to eat and drink every night just to avoid death.

King’s Landing was becoming its special sort of war zone. This was the game of Kings and Queens, Prince and Princesses, none of which you were. It was as if you had been dealt a hand that everyone knew you were going to lose. The Lannisters and the Martells, amazed you how two completely different families could be toying with you, a pawn in this royal game.

Oberyn and Ellaria were just the most skilled players.

As if you needed more people in King’s Landing to worry about.

—————————

“I like her.” Ellaria laughed, still in the arms of her lover. The couple had chosen their girls for the night but sent them waiting for a moment as they discussed you. “You were right, she’s stunning lover. And she has a bite, not many people would challenge you, a prince and a fearsome warrior. I fear we may have scared her off though.” Her smile faltered a bit at the idea of losing their next lover. She wanted you, and there was only so much time before they would be separated by their return to Dorne.

“She is a wild one. Not many women like her. I’m not sure I know many soldiers with her reputation and skill, whether they be man or woman.” He noted as he tucked a strand of his paramour’s hair behind her ear. “I did not expect her to be so offended by us. I don’t think she is as familiar with the pleasures of the bed as we are. We may have to...coax her.” He suggested, scanning Ellaria’s dark eyes, as if he were attempting to read her thoughts.

“She is a strong woman, in every sense of the word. That it itself is something rare, and she knows that. I suspect she thinks we are mocking her, somehow undermining her.” Ellaria noted, recalling your behavior. “She thinks we want to pay for her services, thinks she’s just another girl for us. You may have chosen the wrong moment to be so bold, my love.” Ellaria tried putting herself in your shoes, but it was difficult. Many people knew the legends of the silver hawk, the assassin who never misses, but fewer knew the origin of your tale, how a young woman came to possess the skill of men twice her age, maybe even better than that. But she imagined if she worked as hard as you said you did, only for a man, a prince, to single you out among brothel girls, as if you were one yourself, she could understand your anger.

“Think about it my love,” she began, “you did not exactly explain to her what we were proposing. You cannot blame her for assuming we saw her as another one of Little Finger’s girls.” Ellaria chided as she traced featherlight touches against her lover’s exposed chest.

“A gentler approach may do us good. You are anything but withholding when it comes to who you desire, and at least now she knows. But you may want to start winning her favor with some sort of peace offering.” She ran her hands through Oberyn’s dark curls as he looked at her like a man in the desert looked at water. The Sand woman knew her lover like she knew her own heart, and she knew she was not the only woman who had turned him on this evening. “Go to King’s Landing tomorrow and find her. Don’t apologize for wanting her, never that, but offer our friendship. That may be a good place to start?” She asked, wanting to know what her lover thought.

Oberyn gave a hum of approval before taking his lover’s hand and kissing her palm. “You are the wisest of women.” His hand moved her own so that her palm was now resting on his cheek, his soft, brown eyes still raking over his paramour. “I will go tomorrow to offer our friendship and make peace. I have a feeling that even if we remain friends with her, she will be a powerful and useful ally. She could be just the person we’re looking for to get me information on my sister’s murder.”

The prince’s face turned somber. Ellaria closed her eyes and placed a kiss to his exposed chest. “Do not forget that she works for a Lannister, lover. She may not be so willing.”

But Oberyn shook his head. “No. When I went to the palace the Hawk had her sights on Cersei the entire time. I thought she was going to pierce her with an arrow right in the throne room. She makes an exception for Tyrion, but otherwise, I suspect she has a distaste for Lannisters as much as we do. She may be at least willing to listen to my proposal.”

Ellaria sighed and ran her hand down the prince’s toned arms. “Perhaps, but I don’t want her slipping through our fingers. I want justice for your beloved sister, but I want her too. She is a strong woman, capable of defending herself, but she should not be put in harm's way.”

Oberyn nodded, but he could not shake the deep-rooted desire for vengeance. Every time he saw a Lannister all he could think of was his enchanting sister and her sweet children, and the unfair fate they were given. “I will simply speak to her and offer friendship tomorrow. Her spying was just a thought.” He added, keeping his calm. “We have to earn her trust first and foremost, a task that I’m sure will prove difficult all on its own.”

“Neither of us have been known to back down from a challenge.” She laughed before kissing his collarbone.

“We will just have to convince her of our desires.”

———————

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Tag List

@ilikechocolatemilkh

[ymiwritesstuff]

Hoo boy, this is gonna be a really specific request. A Kakyoin x reader and the reader finds out about Yellow Temperance Kakyoin so the FAKE Kakyoin kidnaps her (to hide his identity) so the REAL Kakyoin has to save her? Sorry if this is confusing.

This request was really good, though I’m sorry if this was well.. bad, I’m trying to sort of fight a writer’s block and for some reason didn’t feel like I did this well enough. I sill hope you enjoy and thank you for the request!

Imposter

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 3: Stardust Crusaders

Noriaki Kakyoin x Reader

Summary: The behavior of your lover changes drastically and you feel a certain uneasiness when around him. Turns out, your suspicion wasn’t for naught.

Notes: Small spoilers for part 3

You knew something wasn’t right with Kakyoin. You just knew it. As soon as he attacked the unfortunate thief who had tried to steal his wallet, almost breaking his back and spitting out foul words that you had never heard him say, you knew something was off. The gaze he gave Jotaro after he broke the fight shot dangerous daggers at the black haired teen, a sinister aura surrounding your “lover” that made your insides twist in increasing anxiety. Something was definitely wrong. This wasn’t your Kakyoin.

You kept a close eye on him, carefully examining him and secretly hoping to find the real man behind those strangely unfamiliar lavender eyes. Causing a scene at a time like this was the last thing you wanted so you had to make sure this person truly wasn’t who he claimed to be before taking action and alerting the others. Strangely a part of you wished that this wasn’t anything serious as it would only lead you to worry about the real Kakyoin’s safety. Was he alright? If this wasn’t him then where was he?

However the second your eyes caught his hunching form mercilessly eating something that to you looked like a bug, your suspicions were confirmed to be true. Not only was the action absolutely disgusting and something Kakyoin would never do, but also extremely brutal, that same sinister aura only seeming to grow. This was bad. That man wasn’t your Kakyoin.

Unfortunately for you, the man disguised as your lover had apparently noticed the mistrustful glare you gave him and just as you were about to warn Jotaro about the imposter among you, you felt a something hit the back of your head with enough force to fully take you out.

When you finally regained consciousness the first thing you sensed was the throbbing pain in the place that had been struck. Everything around you was spinning and it took you a good minute to finally regain your vision. The unfamiliar surroundings immediately caught your attention. It looked like you had been brought to an abandoned warehouse of some sorts. You waste no time in trying to get up, as the unknown location doesn’t sit well with you, but came to a halt as you realize that you can’t move. Looking down at your hands, you notice rope tightly wrapped around your wrists restraining all movement, the same restrains on your legs as well. Damnit.

“Oh, so you woke up.” Your eyes swiftly shoot up to look at the imposter himself, standing at the door leading outside. He hadn’t yet abandoned his disguise as he was still wearing the familiar features of the red haired teen. Despite those lavender eyes being perfect copies of those you had grown to love, the sheer disgust and spite they seem to hold as they stare at you was nothing like Kakyoin.

“Lord Dio wasn’t mistaken. You are quite sharp.” He approaches you and you keep a firm glare on him. You couldn’t let his appearance fool you. This wasn’t Kakyoin. Only a blind servant of Dio trying to deceive you. Your (E/C) eyes glare at him which causes a smirk to appear on his face. 

“I could kill you. But unfortunately I don’t have the time to do that.” The way he spoke with his voice was unsettling. It felt so unnatural, to have him speak to you with such murderous intent. He crouches down in front of you, mockingly looking at you with an expression that Kakyoin would never lay on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that (Name)? It’s me. Your precious Nori..” Despite the tone of his voice being one to one with the original, the rage in your eyes never disappears, only increasing when the copy mocks you. You can see the evil intent in his eyes. He lets out a laugh but it doesn’t last long as its cut off by your spit hitting his face. Normally, you would’ve felt bad for spitting on someone like this, but in this situation, you felt no remorse.

“Go to hell.” Your voice holds so much spite due to your anger and you’re not surprised to hear another chuckle from him. Your eyes follow him as he gets up and walks to the door, ready to leave you behind in the unknown building. 

“Once I’m done with Jotaro, I’ll come back and get rid of you as well.” He glances at your restrains as you desperately try to get rid of them. No matter how you struggled, the ropes were practically glued to your skin, with no intention of letting go. Even summoning your stand proved to be futile as it could do nothing as its master was bound.

“You can scream, struggle, do whatever. But no one will come to save you,” The door opens and the clone is about to head out, but glances at you one more time and completely burns all the hope inside you into ashes; “Not even your Kakyoin..”

And with that, the door closes and the lock clicks, leaving you alone in the dark building. The final words of the imposter echo around your head, making you worry for your lovers safety. Had he done something to him? What did he mean by that? No, he had to be fine, he had to. Kakyoin wouldn’t leave you right?

~

It had been a few hours at most and your strength was beginning to fade due to your futile attempts to free yourself from your restrains. What on earth was these ropes made of? During these grueling hours, the worry for Kakyoin and everyone else only grew. It was only a matter of time until that door would open again and your lifeless corpse would be left on the ground. It scared you. Death scared you. It was weird as it hadn’t in the past, but when you are so close to it, you can’t help but to fall victim to the fear.

The loud banging on the door almost scared you enough to make you jump, your eyes quickly gluing themselves on the entrance. He was back. And you were going to be next. No, this can’t be. You had to fight, if not for your own, then for Kakyoin’s sake. 

You forced yourself up, almost falling on the ground again, and summoned your stand beside you. There wasn’t much you could do, frankly, you had no chance of winning, but you couldn’t give up. But you were so tired. Tired, exhausted, hungry, thirsty, you wondered how you were even able to stand. Your panting echoes through the building as you prepare for his entrance. The lock finally breaks open and the sunlight peaks through the gap. This was it.

You were about to lunge yourself forward to hopefully catch your captor off guard, but stops as soon as you notice Kakyoin standing at the door. And this time, he was your Kakyoin as Hierophant Green was beside him. 

“(Name)!” He shouts and quickly runs up to you catching your fall. Oh how relieved you were. You look up at him, not even noticing the tears of joy prickling your eyes. Those lavender eyes were his, there’s no doubt about it and despite them being filled with worry, you’re happy to see them.

You feel your restrains disappear from your limbs and immediately wrap your arms around your savior’s neck, gently sobbing against his shoulder.

“I was so worried..” Kakyoin says, his voice finally sounding like it always has. He puts his arms around your form, gently running his hand along your back to hopefully comfort you.

“N-Nori.. It’s you..” His touch, the sound of his voice, his eyes, they all belong to Noriaki Kakyoin and your happy to be in his arms once again.

[capricornus-rex]

Someone Left to Save (9)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: I’m trying to come up with ways on how to write and publish like I normally would. Good thing I have a few spare tech I can use!

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions | Additional tags (also TW): Destructive habits, Depressed! Cal

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Part 8 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

The forgers at the Imperial armory fashioned your mask with a hybrid of square and triangular accents. Meanwhile, you donned the ash-gray ensemble that goes underneath your armor plates. In the set, you’re granted a pair of pauldrons, gauntlets, greaves to go with the calves of your pants, and a breastplate with a red stripe along at the hem. They all fitted like a glove.

The piece de resistance is all that’s left.

You watched the Imperial armor technician weld and solder the helmet until it morphed into their ideal, desired shape. Sparks flew, shimmered to light the room, and then die out almost instantly. Bit by bit, you’re starting to see his artistic vision realized.

“I do not discriminate. Newcomer or otherwise, I put a lot of attention to detail in all of my crafts,” the technician thought out loud, perhaps sensing your curiosity and worry that it might not look as good as the others.

“I’m sure you do, considering how many we are right now,”

“It doesn’t matter to me whether there’s dozens of you. I can make one unlike the other—always.”

He harrumphed a scoffing laugh as a response, taking pride in his declaration before continuing.

The armor technician has finished the shaping phase, next he lets it sit for a minutes before cooling it with vapor. You watched the whole process with great intent and curiosity, at the same time, it’s as though you’re watching your new face being created right in front of your very eyes.

He gingerly took the helmet in both of his hands, cradling it with an esteemed carefulness—treating it with royalty and high regard, for crafting an Inquisitor’s mask was a heavy yet rewarding task to complete. This particular forger was an expert crafter, he hand-designed and sculpted most if not all Inquisitors’ helmets and masks. Feeling the weight of yours in his hands, he carefully stepped away from his smelter and toward you; like a monarch’s crown, he presented it to you and inched it closer for you to take it.

“Twelfth Sister,” addressed the armorer.

The gloss of the duraplast once cooled distorted your reflection on its convex surface. A part of you doesn’t recognize this face, the other acknowledges it but doesn’t accept the reality—at least not yet.

From the armorer’s hand to yours, the helmet rests in its rightful owner’s grasp. You hoist it to the top of your head and then lowered it once you’ve aligned it. One moment, your eyes were shrouded by black, and then the next thing you know you’re seeing red—literally—through the visor of your helmet, though you see things as clearly as you’d normally do.

“It’s a perfect fit,” you said blankly, although the comment delighted the armorer very much.

He bowed and returned to the front of his smelter, he’d afford small glimpses of you getting used to the helmet. From your end, there were functions that you’re new to—such as infrared scanning—and there were buttons disguised as accents on the side of the mask that respond to these features.

“Interesting,” you mouthed to yourself, not caring whether the armorer heard it or not.

You tried breathing through the mask, fortunately for you, this won’t hinder the strenuousness of your fighting style—let alone movements in general—as well as catching your breath. For a moment, it’s as though the same world was unraveled before you with brand new eyes—ones that stopped fighting the hatred and used it as strength, rage that blinds yet helps you see with great clarity, the intoxication to power was a permanent leech on your skin and you relished it.

Now completely outfitted in your Inquisitor’s garbs, you make your exit out of the armorer’s chamber and head out to join your “brothers and sisters” in conference. Being the newest, therefore the lowest in rank, the crew and Stormtroopers have mixed feelings about you—though you could care less.

They looked at you with curious yet skeptical eyes as you strode past them. You arrived in the conference hall, heads turned to the door at the sound of the sharp, metallic buzz and then revealed you standing on the other side.

“Ah, the newbie, right on time!” the male Twi’lek Inquisitor chirped, his pointed porcelain white teeth standing out of his glistening, obsidian-black skin.

You stepped in, took that one gap in the line and seemed to have closed the circle surrounding the holotable. You didn’t miss much of the briefing, though they picked up where they left, you intently studied all the holographs that are flashed on the table: battle tactics, ship routes, and person profiles. You listened to the Second Brother explain everything down to the last detail; you saw what kind of person  he is when the two of you aren’t swinging your sabers at each other’s neck, trying to kill one another.

The next part of his presentation included a whole collection of head shots. He explains that they are the current, surviving Jedi across the galaxy. The images of unnamed faces encircled the holotable and slowly rotated for each and every one to see. Below their portraits are short, bulleted write-ups of the latest reports about them: be it last known locations, current agendas, potential accomplices, and recent activities.

After the one you’re looking at, the next one made you quiver in your armor—you can spot that splash of red hair, a naïve freckled face, that boyish charm and a scrapper’s roguishness from a parsec away.

Cal’s head shot rotated and froze right in front of you; blank, jade eyes blending in with the fluorescent blue of the holograph as it stared through your helmet’s visor.

The most crucial part of your past life stares back at you.

The male Twi’lek, namely the Fourth Brother, noticed you in the corner of his eye, sensed your uneasiness and discovered your intrepidity replaced with a sudden, dramatic loss of self-confidence. The Second Brother continued his exposition.

“According to our latest intel, these are the Jedi currently in hiding. Some of them are so bold enough to join factions, such as the traitor—the former admiral Jax Beneb who made with a faction in Ulfin,”

“This one, Cal Kestis, joined them not too long ago. He travels with the Mantis crew comprised of its pilot, a Lateron named Greez Dritus, the right-hand and former Jedi Cere Junda, and… er… a witch. We don’t know the latter’s background, we can only confirm she’s Dathomirian.”

“She’s called a Nightsister,” you corrected the Second Brother.

“He and his crew got themselves involved with the uprising in Ulfin,” the Fifth Brother continued.

“Until the Imperial fortification was bombed—no thanks to Twelfth Sister right here.” The Seventh Sister finished with a voice of chagrin and sarcasm.

There were soft gasps and quiet murmurs amongst the other Inquisitors who apparently had no prior knowledge.

“In my defense, I wasn’t one of you that time,” you dryly chuckled before adding. “Took a few good voltages before you broke me, eh Seventh Sister?”

Feeling outclassed, Seventh Sister rolled her eyes and avoided eye contact from you. The sight of her furrowed eyebrows and the crease on the side of her nose warranted a satisfied, mischievous smirk. You bobbed your head at an angle while the next head shot proceeded, and then Cal’s image rotated to the female red-skinned humanoid with cropped brown hair on your left—this one is known as the Eighth Sister.

Second Brother continued with his plan, catching everyone’s attention by clearing his throat and getting back to the objective at hand. The point was to fan out to selected planets and systems where the Jedi stragglers ought to be and hunt them down—which is their original prerogative ever since the Inquisitorius was formed. Before anyone else could call it, you pressed a button which prompted the ring of head shots to spin wildly until the picture of Cal glows right in front of you.

“I’ll find him, along with Cere Junda,”

“Pheh! Hey, who says you get to have first dibs?!” the Eighth Sister screeched.

“Do you know them like I do?” you raised your voice against her and you were met with a stifled silence due to the lack of a good answer. “You’d be more productive in recovering junk parts salvaged by Jawas than finding the Mantis crew and the Jedi boy!”

The same silence hung around the holotable. You seem to have a knack in making anyone who spoke against you to hold their tongues. It seems everyone was waiting for you to elaborate on your rationale.

“I know the pilot’s flying tactics as well as Cere Junda’s technical tinkering that go hand-in-hand. The Nightsister is not to be underestimated lest you won’t be meeting her good side; and her powers exceed urban legend—she can cloak a ship like a normal cloaking device would, she can raise the dead, she can bury you alive six feet under without even touching a hair on you. That’s how potent her magick is. The boy, on the other hand, I know the most—his fighting, his emotions. Point is: I’m the best chance in finding them.”

You glanced left and right, searching for an objecting reaction from the Seventh Sister and Fifth Brother, and then looked straight into Second Brother’s eyes.

“And you can’t deny that, Second Brother. So do the two right beside you.”

The rest of the Inquisitors turn to the Second Brother for his reply, he gave in and he cannot deny that cold, hard fact—that you were once in connivance with these people. And so, you’re granted with your chosen targets; the others followed suit in selecting which Jedi to go after.

—–

Cal wakes up in a cold sweat again. It has become a frequent occurrence, an unwanted habit that he’s trying so hard to kill.

The weeks turned into months, he’s honestly lost count that he had to ask someone else.

They’ve moved on from Jax Beneb’s rebel faction and went off-world. At first, it was difficult convincing the boy that they had to go and leave the planet, as there’s nothing coming back to him as much as he hoped, and whatever he’s waiting for is just dead air. He had developed a destructive habit of drowning himself in trances—he’s practically returned to where he was before: where he loses control in meditation, doing so has distorted his subconscious vision; he eats only once a day—sometimes not at all—and locks himself up in his room. BD-1 is his only companion through and through, but not even the tiny droid can get a word out of the Jedi boy.

The bracelet, your bracelet, is now worn around his wrist; but in the first time he’s secured it on his arm, the leather cord felt like it was burning and searing through his skin, but when others would take a look at it there’s nothing out of the ordinary. The metal pendant, with the scorch marks obscuring the finish, felt like a red-hot branding iron on his arm, his hand twitched and jerked, yet he couldn’t bring himself to swat away or rip the trinket off.

He hated the pain, but it was the only comfort he knew of remembering you by.

A self-imposed penance.

He blames himself for not coming sooner to get you out.

“[Y/N] would hate to see you like this, Cal,” Merrin started to scold.

There was nothing the Nightsister got out of the Jedi.

When he looked at her straight in the eye, she flinched; and then she got a closer look of the sorry state he’s in—there were dark circles around his eyes, the swelling and the redness of the lining of his eyes suggested restless nights whiled away with crying, untreated cuts and bruises spotted his knuckles and the damning evidence is the small yet noticeable streaks of blood on the gray walls.

“Merrin, I can’t crawl out of the grave that I’ve dug for myself,” Cal shuddered, his voice muffled as his mouth was blocked by his knees folded and drawn to his chest. “I know she’s still here. And I’m talking like the sentimental kind, no, I really know. You have to believe me. You all must think I’m crazy.”

“You don’t see or hear any of us saying so,”

“I know, I just… I don’t know if I’m imagining overthinking it but I just feel like you guys are only humoring me,”

“I don’t do that kind of thing, Cal, it’s not in my nature,” Merrin shook her head. “But I miss [Y/N] too. More than you’d like to know.”

Cal sighed and didn’t speak further. Merrin dismissed herself out of his bedroom and reminded him that Cere had left a plate of dinner for him before closing the door. When he was left alone again, he hung his head low and ran his fingers through his loose, unkempt hair.

He had been alone for most of his life, but this was a different kind of loneliness—one that he isn’t entirely used to. The emptiness, the silence, and the depression bore an alien, coldly terrifying air that hung heavily around his bedroom. The engine hum drowned out his sobbing as he tucks himself away in bed, deliberately forgetting his meal outside.

Cere feels all of that grim emotion pooling inside that room, she wonders how much of those feelings will she pick up if she opens that door—could she take it? Will she be overwhelmed? These were the questions she asked herself.

“Give him some more time. I don’t think he needs us right now, Cere,” Greez glumly said, stopping her in her tracks in any attempt of consoling Cal.

Cal could not sleep—another problem he’s dealing with. He lies with his back flat on the bed, tears trickle down his temples and pools on his pillow just below his ears, he feels like he’s nestled in his deathbed. He can close his eyes, but he cannot catch a wink of sleep. Sometimes, he mistakes dreaming for meditation—of the other way around.

As the meeting pronounced adjourned, they scrambled out of the conference hall while you’re left alone. Arms crossed with one another, you stared at the set of head shots you projected on the table—Cal and Cere. Even though you know them so well, you wondered what kind of information the spies have written about them in their reports.

Your eyes trailed to the write-ups for each profile.

CAL KESTIS

Last known location: Ulfin City in Pevera, Goltan System

Potential accomplices: Cere Junda, Greez Dritus (shipmate), unidentified Dathomirian female

Recent activity: Involvement in rebel-initiated terrorist assault

Charges: Conspiracy and acts of terrorism against the Empire

CERE JUNDA

Last known location: Ulfin City in Pevera, Goltan System

Potential accomplices: Cal Kestis, Greez Dritus (shipmate), unidentified Dathomirian female

Recent activity: Involvement in rebel-initiated terrorist assault

Charges: Conspiracy and acts of terrorism against the Empire

You sighed as you finished reading through the facts of their profiles. You turn away from the holotable and stand in front of the mirror that oversees the operations happening outside the Fortress in Mons Golotha. It’s originally a spice mine owned by a crime syndicate who capitalized in the illegal spice trade, but since the occupation and establishment of the Fortress Inquisitorius, the propriety was handed over to the Empire.

Through the window you watch the moving specks that are the people slaving away to harvest the raw, unprocessed spice, loading them into crates and then into freighters. But the turmoil of these pitiful workers weren’t your focus, you’re channeling it to finding Cal’s connection in the Force and through the Force. The storm in your mind has calmed for a time, allowing you to think and meditate clearly; even in the darkness, you see a light at the end of the path. You pursue it, as you run towards it like an excited, curious child you utter his name.

Cal…

His eyes shot up, he was on the verge of falling asleep already until he heard his name in the distance. He sat up, surveyed the bedroom and found nothing. He shrugged it off as nothing and decided to lie back down… but the voice called again.

Cal...

Now this time, he recognizes the voice. He bolted up.

“[Y/N]?!” he gasped.

Where are you?

“Where are you?”

You didn’t answer, one question led to another.

I need to find you. Tell me where you are.

“I… I’m in—”

“So, Twelfth Sister! How’s the hunt coming along?”

The boisterous Fourth Brother interrupted you and deprived you of the most vital part of your plan. He barges right into your personal space; before he could utter another word, you grabbed him in a chokehold using the Force and slammed him against the window wall. The impact was so hard that a crack appeared right behind his head almost like an icy halo.

The grit of your teeth hissed out the words, “What. Do you. Want?”

He gurgled his words but turned out into frothy noises, you saw him tap for submission on the glass and his ankles buckling.

“What is it that you have to say that is so important that you had to interrupt me and my meditation!?”

“I…. Guhhkk! Wanted to ask if… aagghhk! You plan to go alone!”

You released the Twi’lek, he fell to his knees coughing and clutching his neck.

“I work alone. Go.”

You turn away and wait for the Fourth Brother to leave your sight. Despite calling each other brother and sister, there was no filial connection amongst one another; simply put, it was only tolerance and putting up with each other’s bull. You, on the other hand, hate everyone. Some of them may have not played a part on your turning, but you can’t help but remain hostile towards them—the Eighth Sister deduced that it’s a normal feeling when you’re the fledgling of the Inquisitorius.

You leave the room and make for the hangar to your TIE Fighter.

Meanwhile, Cal was met again with silence and the ecstasy he felt in hearing your voice—even just in his head—died with his melting smile. He sighed and slipped under his sheets again, his heart ached as he coaxed himself to sleep.

Another long night awaits.

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Taboo Attachment

BTS

Park Jimin/Reader [F]

Genre: Demon AU, Arranged Marriage?, Copious amounts of fluff, Logically impossible tween stupidity, Incredibly dense adult Y/n, Jungkook’s a bit of an ass oops

Warning(s): Minor violence towards the end

Words: 18k 

Summary: Young innocence and an unhealthily stupid-lack of common sense lead to you accidentally summoning a demon on your 13th birthday. Somehow agreeing and forming some contract with the said demon, they disappear and so does your memory of it. 10 years later and finally financially stable enough to start college, you wake up with an ash-grey ring in your right ring finger. Despite your efforts, the ring will absolutely not come off. Now, all of a sudden your demon returns and apparently 13-year-old you got yourself engaged to this demon man.

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a/n: WOWIE I finally finished this monster LOL. It only took me months of procrastination (and several compliments from Cam lmao). Pls love Demon Jimin, he just wants to get married

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@angeltothecore @jong-yixing @geekybookworm1993 @hobi-sunshineee @skytime092 @gingerpeachtae

-XXX-

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?  

The demon perched in the shadows of your bathroom as he sat on the top of your glass shower door that was firmly shut.  His spiraled horns breaching his skull as they pointed towards the heavens they will never belong.  His black hair hovered over his crimson-dulled eyes as his fangs remained hidden behind his frown.  His skin was grey and a thin, barbed ended tail sung and tapping your shower door ever so lightly that you didn’t even take notice. His skin darkened to a pitch, coal-black at his elbows to his hands and from his knees to his feet.  Wearing only a cloak tied around his waist that hung loosely off his shoulders, he almost growled.  

Why had he suddenly been summoned to a little fucking girl’s bathroom that was pitch black dark and covered in scented candles that made his nose burn? His claws black hand covered his nose and mouth, the scent of ‘Autumn Leaves’ absolutely nauseating. His single ash-grey ring was oddly warm against his skin. 

Your scent was young, as your body was fragile and tiny.  No older than 13 he guessed.  It had been a while since he had seen a human, much less a human child.  Wearing a tacky nightgown in the ugliest shade of yellow he had ever seen and socks up to your knee that hid under the length of your gown.  Your hair was a mess like you just rolled out of bed.  It was just barely brushing your shoulders with its short length. 

You held what looked like a well worn down container of lipstick that you had used to scribble on the mirror in front of you. A lame excuse of a spell circle he saw in the uneven shapes and symbols.  Lighting your candles on either side of the sink and even on the toilet tower. Was this some stupid prank?  Were you a demon in disguise here to just jerk him around with your stupid little half-ass summoning? 

You dropped the lipstick into the sink’s bowl as you squeaked and covered your mouth, quickly looking at the closed bathroom door.  The demon’s head followed and watched as nothing happened.  His barbed tail whipped as you let out a sigh of relief.  You trotted to the door, locking it and flinching with the lock clicked almost too loud.  Like it would wake up your parents.  

The demon sat perched cupped his cheek in one of his hands, the other still cutting the smell of the candles off from his nose.  He almost chuckled.  Performing a summoning in secret at balls-ass o’clock behind mommy and daddy’s backs and your just now locking the door? God, children were so stupid. 

The demon almost spoke up, but he remained silent.  Obviously, you didn’t know you had already rudely awoken him from his slumber and dragged him here in his sleeping robe.  You were completely clueless to the horned and fanged beast right under your nose- rather right above your puny little head. 

When you left your sink cabinet, the demon peered some other objects in the sink’s bowl.  There was a silver bowl, looking cheap and used like it came right out of your mother’s baking cabinet (it did). Inside the bowl was all sorts of objects that different demon’s could possibly fancy.  

A cheapy made and obviously fake stone knife with hardly any edge or point on it.  A salt shaker filled with salt with the holed top taped up so none would escape its glass spice prison. A doll that looked like a 45-year-old bling hag and sewed it together for someone she hated.  It was too much like a cheap version of a voodoo doll, but hell if you knew that when you decided to add it to your treasure bowl.  

The demon also noticed a piece of printer paper taped onto the sink’s countertop.  Squinting his red eyes to get a better look at the words so far from him, he read your language of course as well as what he could assume was Latin.  He’s heard it enough as he silently ran the words through his head.  

He sat straighter on top of your shower door as he shrugged.  Well, he had to give you some credit for trying.  Of course, the summoning did work, he wasn’t something he really needed to stick around for.  This demon- he- was a demon used in trade summoning.  Summoning that only need to take place when the summoner will exchange something with the demon in return.  Naturally, it wouldn’t be a true demon bargain unless there were a few rules the summoner would be forced to obey. 

For example, the list of names he had stolen the souls of and dragged them down with him into hell was still growing.  He had a pretty hefty track record of always giving his client what they wanted, as well as always securing their soul in life and of course in death.  He’s done trades of service and of objects, he wasn’t picky.  Work and work and with how long he’s been at it, it was all very dull. 

Perhaps that’s why he stuck around watching this clueless, stupid teenager barely at puberty floundering around at 3 AM.  You were something quite unique to the demon’s interest.  

He watched you cup your chin as you scanned the paper that held the spell you chanted to get him here.  He wondered if you even knew what kind of demon you were summoning or if you were just doing this blind for God-knows-what reason.  

Human’s get more interesting with each stupid generation, he thought to himself as he let out another swish of his tail. Perhaps he should introduce himself he thought as he grinned to himself.  His fangs showing as he swung his tail to hit the glass of your shower door, finally getting your attention as you turned around and made eye contact with your demon.

-XXX-

It was your 13th birthday as you woke up to the dreary cloudy sky outside.  You sat in your bed, yawning and looking outside in a daze.  You had to go to school today and you wished your parents would let you stay home since it was your birthday.  It’s not like you had anyone to spend it with other than your parents.  

You were only 13.  The effects of puberty and social norms hitting you like a nuclear bomb.  If you weren’t dressed in what was popular, you didn’t leave your house.  You bought all the ‘very in’ school bags and pencils and books.  You read on all the stupid gossip about celebrities and feigned a ‘starstruck’ crush on some over the top male teen idol.  

Only 13 and you were desperate to have some sort of connection with someone.  You hadn’t had many friends when you were younger.  Too much of a tomboy and when you were in the 4th grade, someone accused you of feeding the class pet- a hamster- something bad that made it very sick and it eventually died.  You knew it wasn’t you, but no one listened and the teacher scolded you.  Everyone avoided you after that. 

Of course, your mother and father were very generous people and treated you well, but when they worked all the time it wasn’t the same as what a friend would be.  Their companionship was appreciated, but not what you craved.  

Life was tough to a 13-year-old middle schooler.  You just huffed as you flopped back on your bed, wanting to go back to bed when your mother knocked on your door, telling you to get up and get ready.  

She always took you to school when she left for work in the morning.  Though, you had to walk home.  You didn’t have the guts to ride the bus.  It was too cramped and putting yourself in a tiny space where everyone was forced to ignore you or snicker behind the stupid, uncomfortable leather seats wasn’t worth the hassle. 

At least no one knew it was your birthday and you could go through the day normally.  You pulled on your jacket, some t-shirt with a bigshot band and your jeans as you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your bag with all your completed homework inside.  

Going downstairs, saying hello and receiving a warm happy birthday message from your parents, you loaded into your mother’s car and soon was staring at the neighborhood zoomed passed your eyes out the window.  You watched people walk in groups or lots of kids waiting for their bus.  Jealous, you closed your eyes and just wished the day would end.  

It was in your history class that your teacher, instead of actually teaching today, turned on some random movie about a person who summoned a demon.  The protagonist and this demon go on some sort of trip to achieve some goal, but you zoned it out as the solution to your solitude was right in front of you. 

If you couldn’t make friends, you could just summon one!  The rest of the day was filled with you sneaking your phone out in class and researching all sorts of demon summonings.  You were confused by everything you read.  Some articles didn’t take themselves seriously, others took themselves very seriously and some just contradicted what you read on a different site.  

You came home in a rush and went to your room to read up more, even renting a book about demons from your school’s library.  You were desperate and impatient, so you would cram as much knowledge in your brain as you could.  You would be performing this summoning tonight, be it hell or high water. 

Going to bed early and telling your parents' goodnight, you fell asleep before groggily waking up at the alarm you set for 2:45 AM.  Trudging around your room, you grabbed the paper spell you printed before you tiptoed around your dark and quiet house.  Loading up a bowl with all sorts of things you read about before going to your bathroom and shutting the door.  The nightlight plugged into the wall was flicked off by you as you lit your candles and then began.  

You panicked as you dropped your mother’s lipstick into the sick and ran to the door to lock it after making sure it was still absolutely silent in your house.  Your bathroom was quite away from your parent’s room, so it wasn’t logical they’d hear you anyways.  

You sighed as you walked to reread your paper.  Maybe you chanted the spell wrong?  You obviously weren’t very well versed in Latin. You were ready to maybe give it another go or give up when you nearly screamed at the bang behind you.  Something hit your shower door and you whipped around.  

Nothing was behind the glass, but when you looked up, you locked eyes with someone.  No, something?  It wasn’t human by any stretch.  They hid well in the darkness, almost unseeable, but their glowing red eyes blinking made solid proof they were in fact there.  

You heard whatever it was chuckle lightly before they jumped off your shower door and back into the shower itself.  You saw their blurry silhouette stand behind the glass door.  They were tall and you could see the outline of their horns stretching above their head. A vague shadow of something whipping around behind them was also visible in the dark room that your eyes had grown accustomed to. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat as you stepped forward cautiously and grabbed the small handle of your magnetic shower door and lightly pulled it open.  A small click of the magnetic detaching and the whine of the door as you slowly opened it.  Revealing the grey-skinned demon in front of your large, teenage eyes. 

You actually did it.  You legitimately summoned a demon.  Like, a real one?  He looked authentic enough at least.  Not some trick of the mind or some dream your desperate wants threw together in your head.  No, he had to be real.  He was almost terrifyingly so. 

“Good evening,” he slurred to you.  His voice was low and almost felt like it slithered like a snake.  Smooth and unwavering like a single tone. “It’s not every night I get little one’s summoning me,” he coaxed.  A shiver ran up your spine at his voice again. 

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you held your hands together in front of your chest.  The reality of the entire situation not sinking in.  You had a demon you summoned in your bathroom at 3 AM after your birthday. 

The demon chuckled as he folded his hands behind his back, putting on the most innocent smile he could muster.  Children were so fragile.  He couldn’t have you go and faint with his overwhelming presence and with how hard he could hear your heart beating, it could very well happen.  

“What is your name dear?” He sang to you.  You gulped.  You remembered reading that if a demon asks your name, you must insist they tell you their first.  You opened your mouth to ask him his in proper demon etiquette, but your throat was too dry.  Swallowing and opening and closing your mouth as a way to make sure your lips still worked, you tried again.  

“What’s-” you fumbled but regained your voice with a clearing of your throat.  “What’s your name?” You mimicked his question back to him.  He just smiled.  

“So,” he began, obviously not going to tell you his name so easily, “you know the bare minimum of demon introduction at the very least.  I’m impressed a little sprout like you can even handle summoning a demon with my power.”  If he wasn’t a demon that looked like he could rip out your kidney and eat it like some creepypasta character, you would get mad at him for repeatedly calling you little.  

He cocked his head at you, remaining his charade of innocence as you remained silent.  Why was it always the children who remained so shell shocked at something they were expecting to happen?  Sure, adults were too, but they were at least capable of screaming or throwing a fit or something.  Children just stop functioning.  

“Dear?” He tried again.  You just shook your head. 

“You first,” you were stubborn at least.  He tutted his brow up as he unclasped his hands behind his back and placed them on his hips.  His unearthly long claws catching your eye and making you swallow.  With those, he really could rip out your kidney if he wanted to.  

Tapping those dangerous fingers on his lips that seemed to be stuck in a permanent smirk, he finally put his hand back down.  Letting it hang past his slim waist and playfully drumming his fingers against his thigh. 

“Which name would you prefer, little one?” His voice teased.  He has pulled you along with a game of guesses, not willing to answer you easily.  He did have many names to be fair.  From slurs of his world to nicknames, to his demon name and his original name before his demonic ways came to fruition.  The demon moved to saunter far too graciously to your sink, placing his rear on the top of the counter and crossing his legs. “Did you not know my name despite you summoning me?  That’s far too clumsy- for a child to make mistakes like that.” 

He moved one hand, a clawed finger pointed at your heart.  “Any other demon met with such an incompetent summoner would tear out your heart as payment.” He watched you visibly gulp again.  Your hair stood up on end on your arm as your back held the best straight posture of your young life. 

You shook your head.  “I just wanted-” you cut yourself off.  The demon arched a dark brow at you as he brought his hand back to rest lazily over his lap.  Your voice turned shaky, fluttering with uncertainty and a sense of what he could almost call desperation.  As if you were trying to plead with him to sympathize with you. 

Demons could not feel sympathy.  If they did, it would be a weakness and the first step to an attachment.  That was the last thing any demon wanted. To become attached to anyone or anything. 

“You just wanted what, child?” The demon’s voice changed.  Altering just a bit.  An undertone like a second voice layering over his original velvet voice.  Like static or a low buzzing hum in the background. 

You looked down at your feet covered in socks on your tiled bathroom floor.  “I just wanted someone to talk to,” you pathetically whispered. 

Your sporadic new-teenage hormones made you tear up. You sniffled as the demon lifted his hand from his lap and used it to push back his hair, making some of it stand up every which way.  You sniffled again as you held your burning tears.  The demon only looked at you confused. 

This human child wanted someone to talk to so she summoned a demon? He thought to himself.  You were the embodiment of a pathetic and lonely child. “Just go find some other rugrats to scuffle with.  Don’t drag us demons into it,” his layered voice told you. 

“No one likes me though,” you told him back.  “Everyone thinks I’m mean and I try really hard to fit in, but- they just make fun of me.” The demon held a scoff back from escaping him.  So, you really were a child.  Trying to twist who you are to benefit those around you just for a chance of some sort of connection to another. 

“Is your wish then to have a companion? Someone who will stay at your side and never waver? To fill that lonely void?” The demon pointed to your heart once more.  Your heart that desired- craved- a connection.  You found yourself nodding in agreement.  A smile wormed its way onto the demon’s face.  “Little one, I am a demon of trades.  Do you know what that means?” You shook your head no.  “It means, I’ll give you anything you ask of me, but I must get something back from you in return.” 

You grew nervous. What could a demon want from you?  Rather, what could you possibly even give demon?  You were 13 for Christ's sake (hah)! The demon stared at you and felt something ripple in his chest.  He smirked.  He held his hand out, opening his palm from the finger he pointed and flipped it so his palm faced upward towards the ceiling and the shut-off bathroom light.  

“I’ll give you what you want,” he started- gaining your attention. “What I ask in return is simple.”  You opened your mouth but shut it again.  You just shook your head. 

“But, I still don’t know your name,” you whispered with a small scruff sound to your voice. 

The demon chuckled again.  If what he felt was indeed what he thought and if he were to follow through with this deal, then this deal would be his last.  He’s had his fun with his world and he was bored anyway.  

“My name- to you only, little one- is Jimin.”  His name resonated with you in some way.  You said it, testing it and he felt a jolt in his chest, making him laugh.  You looked at him with a confused, almost judgemental, stare.  “Don’t give me that look,” he jokingly said. 

“What was it you wanted from me, Jimin? You never told me.”

Jimin held up two of his fingers.  “I must first know your name back, don’t you think that’s fair?” He smiled, his black lips curling almost innocently. 

“Oh, um.  Y/n, it’s Y/n.”  You gave it to him easily now.  He nodded.  The name was suited to fit you.  Jimin’s hand was still outstretched to you.  “What’s the second thing then?” 

“Your hand,” he answered simply. “I desire your hand.”  You easily gave it.  Placing your puny hand in his black, clawed palm.  His fingers curled around your hand easily engulfing it.  “I am centuries old, but even I have rules. You’re far too young yet.” He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it as a symbol of him flashed over your skin before it faded.  The mark was now gone and he smiled, knowing the spell was still there.  “Our deal is complete, though it will take a long time for it to be carried out.  You’ll have to be a strong girl until then.” 

He gently dropped your hand and stood up from the sink and bent down to your eye level. His dark red eyes looked into your wide, childish ones.  He could only imagine how they could mature and grow over time in your life.  He chuckled as he smiled at you.  

“Your soul now officially belongs to me.  Don’t forget that, little Y/n.” 

You bolted away in bed the next morning when your alarm went off.  6:30 AM and supposed to be getting ready for school.  Had it all been a dream?  You flung your covers off, kicking your legs free and ran to the bathroom.  It was empty and clean of any demon summoning evidence. 

No smeared lipstick on the mirror.  No scented candles or your bowl of items in the sink.  No evidence of you ever meeting the demon named Jimin.  You held and looked at the hand he took and kissed as you went back to your room. Flopping ungracefully on your bed.  

“It was only a dream,” you told yourself dejectedly.  And, like a dream, you gradually forgot all about Jimin.  Never aware of the swishing barbed tail and a pair of red eyes checking on you from time to time. Not noticing even every year on your birthday when those eyes glowed the brightest. 

-XXX-

“Yeah, I know mom.  Yes- I know.  I’m 23 now, I think I can survive if you're not here on my birthday.  Stay home with day and relax for once.  Listen, I just got to work, I’ve gotta go.  Yeah, I love you too.  Bye, mom.” You cut the call that was playing through the speakers of your car as your music automatically resumed playing once the call disconnected. 

You could really blame your mother for fretting over your birthday.  She’d seen 22 of them and on number 23 she wouldn’t be there.  You had moved out after slaving away at 3 jobs to get enough money to get an apartment and finally start college.  Stable enough to get on your feet was all you really wanted to be at this point.  And to take the burden of all your problems off your parents.  They needed their own time at such an age. 

Your miserable days in middle school remained and that negative strength lasted all the way into and even through your high school career.  You still felt bitter, but you didn’t let it bother you anymore.  You engrossed yourself in books and studying, ignoring those around you who tried to get under your skin.  The only reason you turned down a scholarship offered to you was so you could stay at home a few years before taking another step forward. 

Always better to practice the art of adulthood with more experienced adults at your left and right. Besides, going into college immediately after high school was something forced on young people by society.  It wasn't the be-all, end-all.  Waiting wouldn’t hurt you or anyone else for that matter. 

Pulling into your parking space and hopping out of your car, you waltzing into your workplace.  Greeted by the manager of the local coffee shop where you barista at along with her and her son, Seokjin.  He wasn’t much of a coffee maker, but he kills it with his job with all the pastries.  He was 4 years older than you and in his last year of college.  Aiming for a simple bachelor's degree, he just wanted to get a better paying job to support himself and his mother. He and his mom live together and she’s told you before that she will never chase him out.  

Seokjin’s father passed away years ago, and he felt so guilty anytime he had to leave for a long time.  He knew his mother wasn’t alone per se, but he did love her.  So, he spent his free time in the shop or at home with her.  He’s even taken her on some ‘dates’ where he just spoils her completely rotten.  

The close-knit family of 2 absolutely warmed your heart. 

Besides, with a face like Seokjin’s, you never have to worry about business.  IN fact, ever since he started working alongside his mother, there hasn’t been a slow easy-going day.  A blessing for revenue and paychecks, but a curse for your lack of free time. 

There isn’t much different today than usual.  A rush in the morning, a slow break between 10 and noon and then the lunch rush hits.  After that, it’s all hit and miss on when it will pick up.  You were removing your apron and releasing your hair from the too-tight ponytail you created this morning when your manager approached you. 

“You’ve started college, yes?  How is it?” She was like some aunt of yours as she slotting into your life.  Seokjin fitting right in as an annoying cousin role as he walked into the conversation, the counter free of customers until that front counter bell should ring. 

“Yup.  I started last week.  Orientation was a bit boring, and of course, all the syllabi seems a bit unnecessary, but it’s moving along.  We actually start classes tomorrow.”  You smiled as the three of you talked.  Soon, that bell rung before your manager rushed off, taking it before Seokjin could.  He stood around, talking to you a bit longer. 

“I’m in your college,” he told you with a hand on his head.  You knew this already, but he wasn’t someone you expected to really run into.  He was quite popular.  “Hunt me down if you need anything, you’ve got my number.”  He smiled.  

“Mr. Popular running to my beck and call, how charming.”  He moved his hand from your head as he cupped his chin.  

“What can I say, my existence itself is charming.”  You playfully rolled your eyes as you hang your apron up on the hook with your hand above it.  “Seriously, it can be a bit overwhelming and I am pretty smart.  If you have trouble, let me know.  I can even tutor you some time if you need it.”  He told you as you patted his shoulder and nodded.  He worried and you appreciated it.  

When you walked into your apartment that night, something felt wrong.  You didn’t know what, but it just didn’t seem normal?  You looked around and nothing was off and no one was here obviously.  Maybe you were just psyching yourself out before classes tomorrow.  

You plopped yourself on your couch as you closed your eyes, kicked your head back as you breathed.  It was strange as you opened your eyes and looked at your right hand.  It felt odd, a tingling sensation floating over and around it.  Your finger felt numb as you opened and closed your fist.  You just shook your head as you got up and went to take a shower.  Maybe that would make you feel better. 

You jolted awake with a heavy breath and a couch at nearly 3 AM.  You panted as you pushed your bangs back, feeling a small sheen layer of sweat there.  You felt like you just had a nightmare, but you couldn’t remember.  Your chest was tight as you dropped your hand back to your mattress as you sit sat up.  

Something felt tight around your ring finger on your right hand, and with it being too dark, you used your left hand to feel around it.  It felt like a ring was strapped onto your finger?  The ring was thin, metal and flat.  It was warm like you had been wearing it for a long time or someone else had been before you.  You knew it wasn’t yours, you didn’t own many rings.  

Confused, you tried tugging it off, but it wouldn’t budge.  Light panic sat in your chest as you twisted and pulled, trying to get the ring off.  It wasn’t as if it would move and your finger was too thick to take it off, no.  It just wouldn’t move period.  It would twist in place, but it would not move up or down your finger.  Like it was bound on or something. 

You sighed as your tugging game was put on hold from your growing panic. You decided to forget it and you’d deal with it in the morning.  Tugging your blanket up to lay back down and tuck yourself back in, something felt weighed down on your blanket.  Tugging again, you stretched your foot and something was sitting at the foot of your bed, weighing your blanket down.  

You were scared to move.  Slowly grabbing your phone you flipped the flashlight on and looked at the foot of your bed.  You screamed as you scurried up your mattress against the headboard, dropping your phone in your haste.  

Picking it back up you held it as you sat, knees up against your chest as you pushed yourself against eh headboard the best you could.  Sitting as far as you could from that thing at the end of your bed. 

“Who are you?!” You screeched as they rolled their eyes.  Red eyes, grey skin, black shirt and pants with a tail and horns.  Who was this?!  He didn’t even look human, but you were trying to convince yourself that some freaky cosplayer broke into your house.  You did know that there were a group of some weird-ass people who read some internet interactive novel online from some posts you’ve read on social media.  Maybe it was one of them? 

There wasn’t a speck of color on the intruder.  Be it skin or clothes.  His shirt was buttoned and tucked into his pitch pants and he was shoeless, his black feet tucked under his cross legs.  His tail barbed and swaying behind him as he smirked.  His fangs were the only white thing on him.  Even the ‘whites’ of his eyes were black surrounding his red iris. 

“Human memories really are the most unreliable thing in the universe,” he spoke as you screamed again.  He covered his ears as he grimaced. He stood on your mattress, his feet pushing into the covers as he walked over to you and bent his knees to squat to your level.  

He looked into your eyes and something almost sparked in you.  Like a recollection of something you’ve seen before, but can’t place your finger on it.  He watched as your eyes searched is own, now quiet as you tried to remember something.  He smiled as he saw the confusion in your human eyes.  

You moved to look at his tail behind him as you gasped, almost screaming again.  He quickly pushed his hand over your mouth, not wanting to hear another scream that pierced his ears.  “We’ll talk in the morning, little one,” he smirked as he saw your eyes widen as you took in a shaky breath through your nose.  

You shook your head, knowing there was no way you’d be able to sleep with this demon in your home.  Your eyes darted around as he rolled his eyes and covered your mouth just for a moment.  Just long enough to push his black lips onto your pink ones.  You gasped as you closed your eyes, bracing yourself as he was unusually calm. 

You felt your strength leaves you bit by bit as you soon relaxed and your tightly scrunched eyes eased up when you passed out.  Slumping back, the demon held you and straighten your body out before pulling the covers over you and getting off your bed.  Walking around your room and looking at your bags of books and notebooks, going through your style of clothing and all the small amount of jewelry you owned.  

He looked over his shoulder before he smiled and joined you on your bed.  Laying on the free side of it as he watched your sleep.  “You grew up, just like I thought you would,” he whispered. 

-XXX-

You stirred as you took a breath through your nose at what you could assume was early in the morning.  You were still tired, and half tempted to forget it and go back to sleep.  Even keeping your eyes closed, very close to just deciding sleep was worth it.  

You had a distinct feeling something happened, or maybe you had some weird-ass dream last night.  You felt more tired than you should for sleeping as much as you did.  You breathed heavy when you felt a weight on your chest.  The mattress around you was pushing down like something was on the mattress beside you.  

Cracking open your eyes, you took a moment to process the grey figure looking down at you.  Feet perched on either side of your arms, crouching and resting his arms on his bent knees, Jimin stared down at you.  You blinked up to him, processing like a slow running computer before you shot up, shoving him in the chest and flinging him onto the floor. You scrambled out of the opposite side of your bed, throwing your covers onto his head to buy you some time as you run for your bedroom door.  

You screamed when your blanket hit your back in a giant wad.  Knocking you forward, you whipped around.  Jimin was stood up, brushing off his arms and glaring at you.  He looked so different in the daytime as you could see him clearly instead of standing in the shadows. 

“You are the rudest human I’ve ever met.  I can’t believe you threw a fucking blanket on me like I’d get stumped like some stupid dog,” he grumbled as he rubbed his head. “You could’ve damaged my neck, brat.”  You inched towards your door, still wanting to at least leave your room, Jimin just walked over to you, standing in front of your door.  

“I- uh,” you looked at him.  Pointing at him then, your bed, before you groaned and started pacing back and forth.  Jimin watched your pacing as he sighed and sat down, crossing his legs in front of your door.  He pushed his clawed hand into his grey cheek as he looked bored.  You suddenly stopped and looked down at him from across the room.  “You... You’re not a human?”  

Jimin looked at his claws, waving them teasingly waving them around as he then gestured to the spiraled horns on his head.  Not to mention the barbed tail swishing around behind him like it had a mind of his own. “I think the skin color could speak for itself, but if you still have doubts, take a look at the fucking bones out of my forehead and devil’s tail.”  

You stopped and marched over to him.  Dropping to your knees you grabbed his cheeks between your fingers and pulled.  Stretching his skin before letting go.  You moved to quickly open his eyes wide and looked at his red eyes.  You tugged on his hair, flicked his horns and opened his mouth to look at his fangs.  He growled in annoyance as you poked and prodded at him.  “HEY!” He shouted when you tugged on his tail.  

“How are you real?!  I thought you were a dream!” You panicked.  

“Well, that sounds like a personal problem to me,” he smirked as his tail whipped around in a teasing, almost spunky manner.  

“I was 13! What do you even want?” He pointed to your hand, more specifically to the ash grey ring you had completely forgotten about from last night.  You looked at it.  “This?” You showed it, trying to take it off once again.  Groaning and making quite the embarrassing amount of effort to try and remove it.  

“It’s not coming off.  I charmed it so it’s stuck there unless I remove it,” Jimin told you, closing his eyes as if he just told you the most obvious fact in the world.  Like how ladybugs are black and red.  “Have you forgotten what our deal was?”  He asked. 

“I… I wanted a friend back then.  So, you told me to give you my-” you stopped and looked at the ring on your finger, “-hand.”  Jimin cracked open his eyes as he reached over and grabbed your ringed right hand, holding it close to his mouth.  

That same symbol he marked under your skin 10 years ago showing up for a split second, like a pulse and making you gasp.  Kissing your hand again, he looked at you.  “You should always catch wind of double meanings in any and all demon contracts, sweetheart.  Even if you were young, you did agree.” 

“You tricked me! I was a kid!”  Jimin shrugged.  

“It's my job.  You should be honored that you were my final assignment.” 

“Final- what?” 

“Do you know, attachment to clients is a taboo in the demonic society. Any sign of attachment is dealt with immediate termination of the contract.  Though, there are some who decide to indulge in the attachment and decide that one job is more important than any other possible future ones.” 

You sat in front of him as he still held your hand in his own.  Dressed in a black suit with his dull gray skin and completely unnatural- well, everything.  

“I formed my final contract 10 years ago at 3 AM to a silly, lonely little girl.  You, Y/n, became my attachment. We’re officially engaged, sweetheart.” 

-XXX-

“You haven’t been at work for three days because you were too busy getting engaged?!” You covered your ears as you roll your eyes at Seokjin’s initial reaction to your big news.  Three days ago, when Jimin showed up in your apartment, you called your manager if there was any way you could possibly get the next few days off.  You didn’t want to tell her the situation but promised to when you came back in.  She was understanding enough and now, fast forward to now.  Seokjin grabbed your shoulders, shaking you around. “How come you didn’t tell me?! I would’ve filmed it or something, you didn’t even tell me you had a boyfriend!” 

You shook his hands off your shoulders as you straighten out your sleeves he crumpled up on your shoulders. “Look, what I do in my personal life really doesn’t matter, does it?” You told him as he just crossed his arms and pouted. You chuckled at him as his mother came around the corner, wiping her wet hands on her apron.  

“What’s all this fuss about back here?” She questioned with a smile at seeing you and Seokjin back to your antics.  It was almost too calm without you here for him to pick on.  

“Oh, I was telling Seokjin here about why I had been gone, ma’am,” you told her with a smile.  You then thought for a moment, she didn’t actually know yet.  “I actually got engaged,” you told her with a nervous laugh and rubbing the back of your head.  

In full honesty, after sitting down and talking it all out with the demon who is now your betrothed, even if you didn’t want to get married to him you had no choice.  A contract with a demon is eternal binding and you would have to carry out your end of the bargain.  As such, just as Jimin promised you all those years ago, you wouldn’t have to worry about every being lonely. So, in turn, you were his now.  

He explained everything to you.  He told you back when you made that contract, that when he told you he ‘wanted your hand’ he was asking for your hand in marriage.  He told you he purposely said it like that so your stupid teenage self wouldn’t actually understand the double meaning.  He explained how he watched you grow up and was there on every birthday, but you never saw him.  

It actually almost embarrassed you how he had been there the whole time.  He even admitted to being the tiniest bit jealous of all the boyfriends and girlfriends you’ve been in a relationship with before.  He pouted when he brought up the fact that one past boyfriend was an obvious scumbucket of a man and claimed your ‘taste in human men was severely lacking’.  He earned a kick in his shin for that one. 

Jimin truly acted like he was attracted to you in all honesty.  It’s only been three days, but he was as chivalrous as a proper gentleman.  Not something one would expect from such a terrifying demon who literally hides in the corner when it’s too bright in the room at 6 in the morning.  He isn’t a fan of morning sunlight, too bright and frankly from his whole appearance, it wasn’t shocking to learn this.  

And because of his appearance, you had a little pitch fit before you left for work.  Absolutely forbidding him from leaving the apartment because if anyone saw him, they’d probably call the cops or shoot him. Horns, bare feet, grey and black skin, he would stand out like a sore thumb.  

Seokjin’s mother gasped as he grabbed your hands, shaking them up and down as she got as giddy as a teenager at the young romance blossoming from your engagement.  

“That’s absolutely lovely, sweetpea!”  He chuckled as she placed her worn, old hand on her cheek.  Her wedding ring from her late husband still in prime condition as she still did love him so much.  She was alright staying widowed; and with Seokjin, she didn’t seek another romance in her age because she wasn’t lonely.  “I remember when my husband proposed to me.  He had this elaborate plan all set up in the park we met at, but it rained right in the middle of it!  It was clumsy, but so was he,” you smiled as she fawned over the memories of her youth. 

She held your hand and looked at your grey ring place firmly on your finger.  “It is quite the unique ring for a proposal,” she chuckled.  She didn’t seem to dislike it though.  In most people’s eyes, if you told them this grey and the simplistic metallic ring was your engagement ring, they’d probably start to berate Jimin for not ‘buying’ a more glamorous ring.  However, when Jimin told you that this was the ring he’s had his entire demonic life and how much it meant to him, you felt almost proud that he gave it up for you. 

Jimin was crafty, already charming his way into your heart after just a few days.  You found it unfair because you weren’t all that desirable in your own eyes, yet here he was giving up life long possessions and sticking them on you and treating you like a legitimate fiancee. 

“You’ll have to let us meet him. You’re practically family, sweetie!”  You smiled, nervously laughing as you nodded.  You scratched your cheek as you thought to yourself about how you would keep Jimin under house arrest for the rest of your life.  “Does your mother know?  I’m sure she’s just thrilled her little daughter is growing up!” 

“Yeah, she knows.  She nearly blew a gasket when I told her.  I thought she was going to march all the way down here to interview him, but she just spoke to him over the phone and all was good,” you told your manager.  Keeping the fact that the whole ordeal took nearly 3 hours to yourself. “She’s happy for me in the long run,” you said as you were also relieved of that fact.  

Your parents knew that you didn’t have people beside you growing up, so hearing you’re engaged and set to marry at some point when you just started college was a shock.  But, they seemed to support you in your path you’re setting and you couldn’t be more thankful. 

“He’s not a shy fellow, is he?” You shook your head.  

“Oh, not at all.  In fact, he’s very outgoing and is always trying to find a way to get out of the house,” you weren’t lying.  He’s been cooped up in that house of yours for three days, all he complains about if wanting to go out. You won’t even let him out at night where he can hide in the shadows without being seen. 

“Does Mr. Right have a name, or what?” Seokjin cut in with crossed arms and a furrowed brow.  “If I don’t get a face and a name within the next 48 hours, I will be forced to confine you here until he shows himself.”  You and his mother looked at him as his face gave away that he was almost dead serious. 

“What are you? My older brother?  Sorry, but I’m an only child,” you told him as he rolled his eyes.  “His name is Jimin,” you told him.  

“Surname?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“Of course it matters, woman!” In truth, you weren’t sure if Jimin even had a surname.  He was a demon, and he mentioned how many names he actually goes by.  So, you decided to skim around the question and finally dropped the topic altogether when it was opening time.  

Seokjin placed his two fingers in front of his eyes and proceeded to whip them towards you in a typical  ‘I’ll be watching’ fashion.  Making you shaking your head as you tied on your apron with the smallest smile on your face.  Maybe all those years of solitude were worth it in the end after all. 

-XXX-

“Jimin, you better still be in this apartment or else I’m gonna tie your tail into knots!” 

“So much as touch my tail and I will bite you. Don’t test me!” You heard him scream back at you as you smiled.  Shutting the door behind you and heeling off your shoes, you pulled your jacket off and walked into your living room where you tossed it onto the back of the couch.  

Jimin sat in a chair, reading one of your books as his tail whipped around behind him and curled inwards when he saw you.  The threat of you even touching it initially making him wince. 

“Jimin, are you reading a cookbook?” He shut the book and looked at the front, seeing some sort of dish covering the front of it with the bold letters of ‘COOKBOOK’ staring at him.  He looked back at you and nodded.  “Why?” 

“Because, since we’re going to be married and I’m living with you, I do need to learn how to live as a human.” That honestly surprised you. “Why is that so shocking to you?”  You shook your head, sitting on the couch.  Seeing him take this so seriously still throws you off and a part of you almost thought that when it actually happens, he’d rip your soul out or something.  He chuckles at you. “Don’t you worry, dear.  I won’t eat your heart or anything when we wed.” 

Dismissing his stupid words he knew you were suspecting, you started a new topic.  “My coworker and boss seemed glad that I was engaged.” 

“You told them?” He asked and you nodded. 

“Yeah, of course.  I had to, I’d been gone for three days.  I couldn’t just lie to them.” Jimin arched his brows.  “Okay, I could but it wouldn’t feel right.  They’re good people, so I wouldn’t.” There was a pause for a moment when you continued.  “They want to meet you actually.”

“I’m sure a lot of people do.  Your mother was hell-bent on a phone call, I’m half shocked she didn’t bust her way through the phone.” You sighed.  “I want to clarify something,” he said as you looked at him.  “If I didn’t look like this-” he gestured to his grey and clawed self, “- I could go out.  I could meet people you work with and your parents, right?” 

“Ideally, yes.  You can’t just walk outside looking like that.  You’d probably get killed or kidnapped and taken into the government for dissection or something.” He rolled his eyes.  “Why?” 

“No reason, just curious,” you shrugged it off as the rest of the day rolled around.  The next morning, you were up late and rushing to leave your apartment to get to class on time.  Driving over the speed limit and tapping in rage on your wheel when stupidly slow drivers got in front of you. You parked in a space that was far too far away from the door and ran.  Running into Seokjin somehow on the way there.  

He only laughed at you as he stuffed a donut hole in your mouth that you nearly choked on as you continued your sprint down the halls and soon slid into a seat in your university room.  The room was set up like a stadium, semi-circular and stairstep sitting arrangement. You phone that sits on your desk lit up with a silent message.  

You had gone out and got Jimin a phone so that he can at least have some form of communication with you. He was a demon, but he already acted human enough.  He was a quick learner and if he did look the part, one wouldn’t even think he was a demon at all.  Of course, even if you voiced to the whole campus your fiancee was a demon, no one would believe you.  

[Jimin] When do you get out of class today?

[You] Does it matter? 

[Jimin] Of course it does.  I want to show you something when you’re free today.

[You] Uh, alright?  I should be done around 3, so long as no lectures run long.

[Jimin] You got it.  I’ll see you at 3 in front of your campus then.

You stared at your phone’s screen.  Rereading what he said before your thumbs ran rapidly across your screen.  If texting was a sport, you were sure you probably would’ve just earned the gold medal. 

[You] You’ll what?!

[You] Jimin!  Answer me!!!  

[You] HEY.  JIMIN I SWEAR TO GOD

[Jimin] Don’t offend me

You rolled your eyes at his comment back.  Swearing to God in the case of a demon.  He always smacked your hand lightly when you said that to him, saying that swearing to something he didn’t believe in or rather didn’t like was just mean. It made sense since he was a child of Satan or something. 

Your day ticked by as slow as high-class torture.  Time was picking at your fingernails as you tapped your foot and scribbled notes in such a frenzied fashion you’d probably end up with a magnifying glass later trying to decipher your words like some archeologist on a dig. 

When your final lecture let out it was nearly a quarter past 3 in the afternoon.  You scrambled to shove your books and notes into your bag as you picked up the strap and slung it on your shoulder, whacking it into your back as you wince.  Taking off down the halls and skipping steps, half scared of tripping and tumbling to your doom down them. 

You sped past staff and students, a few of them telling you to watch what you're doing or to stop running completely, but you just waved in apology and continued your pace. Making it outside, you slumped against the flagpole by the main entrance doors as you huffed out of breath.  The sun was warm on the skin of your legs that were revealed because of your shorts.  Your jacket was all disheveled as your shirt that was once tucked was now no longer so. Your shoelaces had even come undone in your plight of speed to get outside. 

Looking around, you didn’t see a single grey demon walking around your front campus courtyard.  Sighing, you dropped your bag onto the ground with a huff and knelt to re-tie your shoe.  If you left campus fast enough, maybe Jimin wouldn’t come and cause a scene. 

You were unaware of the low murmur of small gossip circles on campus and leaving the building.  You were also unaware of the fact that fact of the murmur was coming towards you with his hand shoved into his pockets.  

Making it in front of you, you saw a shadow at your feet and beside you as you looked up.  The sun was too bright and blocked out the sight of who it was standing in front of you.  You squinted as the person- a man- chuckled and bent his knees to be eye level with you.  

You looked at him and he looked at you as he smiled.  Looking into his eyes, a deep brown, you narrowed your eyes in concentration.  You turned your head slowly, still keeping your eyes on him, as you opened your mouth in disbelief.  

“Excuse me, but um- you wouldn’t have to be…” you pointed at him as he chuckled again.  He looked to his left and right before he looked back into your eyes and you saw his brown flash to a black and red before reverting back.  You gasped.  This human man was- “Jimin?!” You screeched.  

Jimin laughed as he fell forward on you, knocking you onto your ass on the concrete that warmed your cheeks from the afternoon sunlight.  He continued to laugh and spill out his fits of giggles from his gut as he held your arms and put his forehead on your shoulder.  

Jimin looked human.  Lightly tanned skin, brown waved hair and brown eyes.  A pair of jeans with a white shirt and jean jacket that matched his pants.  His right ear had a long dangling earring pierced through it as his left had a small hoop.  His shoes were flat and black.  He had no horns, no fangs, no claws or tail.  His skin wasn’t grey and his hands weren’t black as coal.  He looked and sounded 100% human. 

“You’re reaction was so worth it!” He laughed as he finally composed himself.  You took notice of the murmur now, as it had slightly increased from small groups to larger cliques wondering what was happening.  Normally, this was dismissed by the campus students as another couple being overly touchy, but of course, you just couldn’t fly under the radar this one time. 

You lightly pushed Jimin up and off your shoulder as you looked around his face.  He was handsome as a human too.  Just as handsome as he is as a demon.  The sun highlighted and added to the persona he put on and made your face the slightest tint of red. Jimin’s playful smirk was replaced with a wide smile as he saw you blush. 

“W-when did you?” You just pointed at the whole of him. He grabbed your hand as he stood, pulling you up with him and straightening out your jacket for you.  Tugging on the ends and straightening out the shoulders.  He would’ve tucked your shirt in if you hadn’t of slapped his hands away from your stomach. 

“Ticklish are we?” He teased. 

“Just answer my question!” You whined.  He pinched at your cheek, cooing as you were tempted to pick your bag off the ground and swing it at him like a pro baseballer aiming for a home run. 

“I changed this morning.  It’s not permanent though.  I can change back whenever I want to.  If I look like this, I’m okay to go outside, right?” 

“I guess… I can’t argue with that?  I said not as a demon- but as a human, I can’t say no to you, can I.” He smiled as he bent down and grabbed your bag. “Ah, give me that, it’s got all my books in it.”  You reached for it as he just held it away from you, putting a hand on your stomach to keep you away from it.  “Jimin!” You whined again. 

“Let my first act as a human gentleman be carrying my fiance’s bag home, yeah?” You pouted as you crossed your arms.  

“Y/n!” You heard someone behind you call for you as you almost panicked at seeing Seokjin strutting towards you.  His bag on his hip and phone in his hand, headphones coiled around it, ready to be unwound and listened to. Jimin recognized him as you took the liberty of showing him photos of Seokjin, his mother and your parents to him.  He walked up to you and Jimin.  “I saw you running out of your class like a maniac, what was that about?” 

“Oh, well you see I was just…” you looked around for an excuse before you looked at Jimin.  “I was rushing out to meet my escort home!” You gestured to Jimin.  Seokjin looked down at him.  He stood taller than Jimin.  “Seokjin, you wanted to meet him, right?  My fiance?”  Seokjin looked at you, mouth open in awe as he looked back at Jimin. 

“This is your fiance?!” He accused, almost too loudly as you could see some people whispering and gasping that the gorgeous man in front of you was engaged to you of all people.  You shushed him. 

“Shut up!  Let’s go somewhere else and talk, Jesus.”  The three of you ended up at some burger joint not far from campus to talk.  Being greeted by the staff, you smiled and waved as you took the two men in tow to a booth.  Jimin slid in with you as he sat closer than you expected him to, your thigh touching his as Seokjin sat across the table. 

You three ordered something to drink and just a basket of fries to munch on.  Jimin didn’t exactly have money and you were kinda glad that Seokjin said he’d foot the bill of the fries and drinks.  You didn’t want to explain that Jimin was unemployed because he was a demon. 

“So, you’re Y/n’s guy?” Jimin nodded, reaching across the table for a handshake.  Seokjin meeting him in a firm greeting. 

“I’m Park Jimin, it’s a pleasure.’ You looked at him.  Park?  Did he decide that was going to be his surname?  It was popular, so you didn’t see the harm in his choice.  “You’re Seokjin, right? Y/n works with you and your mother.”  

Seokjin purses his lips in an impressive manner.  “You know me?” 

“Of course!  Y/n had talked about you and your mother quite a lot in the time I’ve known her.  She really enjoys working with you both.”  You thanked the staff member who placed your drinks and a basket of fries on the booth table as the two men talked back and forth.  You sipped at your drink, straw between your lips as you were actually impressed Jimin held such a casual conversation.  

You’ve been stressing over so much on what to do with Jimin when he was capable of dealing with all of it on his own.  He seemed to genuinely be trying to earn Seokjin’s favor for something.  Talking and acting so that Seokjin wouldn’t disapprove of him for some reason.  

He was acting so human.  Sweet and caring and kind.  He laughed at Seokjin’s stupid jokes you scoffed at and took interest in his favorite kind of pastries.  What to eat and where to eat it and told him about how he attended the same college as you and was set to graduate this year. 

Seokjin excused himself for a moment to go to the bathroom when Jimin sat back in his booth and tossed half a fry into his mouth. 

“Human food is actually way better than I remember it being,” he said as he ate the second half of the fry.  

“Jimin?” He looked at you when you called him.  “You- are you enjoying yourself?” You were curious is that smile on his face was real or if it was all an act because he was a demon contracted to marry you.  He smiled softly as he grabbed your hand, setting it on his lap. 

“I told you that I was attached to you, do you remember?” You nodded.  He told you that when he first showed up.  “It’s not easy for something like that to occur for my species. I won’t put up a facade around you, so don’t worry, okay?” You lowered your eyes as you nodded.  He smiled, his teeth showing as his cheeks pushed up his eyes.  He moved to kiss your cheek as you pushed on his shoulder for the sudden act of affection.  He laughed at you as he tried kissing your other cheek, you erupting into a fit of laughter at him. 

Seokjin stood behind the booth against the wall, watching the two of you from a distance.  He smiled seeing you happy and how Jimin was a good guy after all.  Open and kind like you said.  He nodded to himself. 

“I guess I can approve of him,” he said to himself as he made his way back to the booth. Sliding in and fake gagging at the PDA of the young couple.  

-XXX-

It was two days later when your first workday since Seokjin met Jimin came.  Jimin was stubbornly driving you to work (where he learned to drive you didn’t know).  He even had a license that was legitimate and he wouldn’t tell you at all how he got it.  Part of you almost believed he lived as a human the past year just to get accustomed to this kind of lifestyle.  When you told him that, he looked at you like you uncovered some big secret.  Of course, there was no way that was right… right?

“So, why are you driving me to work again?” You asked him as your purse sat in your lap as you were decked in your black slacks, white shirt, and non-slip shoes.  Boring work attire. While he sat in black jeans, heeled boots to boost his height (he was almost self-conscious of it) and a white shirt with a yellow flannel over it.  Looking rudely attractive. 

“I met Seokjin, now I want to meet your boss!” He cheered as he pulled into the turn lane, stopping before getting the all-clear from those trust traffic lights to proceed onwards.  “Besides, dropping you off means I get to pick you up and isn’t that just a husbandly thing to do?” 

“You’re not my husband?” 

“Not yet.  Which reminds me, I guess we need to actually plan a wedding?” 

“Yeah, with what money,” you scoffed.  

“Well, how about a courthouse wedding?  It’s way cheaper and way simpler.  Just dress in your Sunday best, show up with family and close friends only.  Get preached to, sign a paper, take some pictures and we walk out husband and wife,” he suggested with a small smile.  

Honestly speaking, a courthouse wedding didn’t sound too awful.  You wouldn’t need to get completely gussied up if you didn’t want to and it wouldn’t be some entire day deal.  A few hours and it would be done.  Plus it would be a life-saving act for your funds.  

“You don’t need to think about it right now,” Jimin interrupted your thoughts.  He reached across the middle console and grabbed your hand that rested on your bag.  He bounced it up and down in his palm as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.  “I’m not going anywhere, so take your time to think it over for yourself.  Be it for 3 months or 3 years, I’ll always be here.”  You nodded at him, missing the side look he gave you when your cheeks start glowing again. “Cute.” 

Your boss cried in joy as you entered the still unopened cafe with Jimin in tow, his hands in yours.  You watched her bounce around the counter and prance up to you both as Seokjin rounded the corner, a ziplock bag of frozen strawberries in his hand that was due to dethaw in some hot water in the back.  

“Oh, lover boy’s here,” he announced.  Jimin bowed to your boss as he introduced himself with a smile.  You told her that Jimin was the man who proposed to you and was the man you were soon going to marry.  

“My word, he’s stunning!  You’re a lucky woman, Y/n.”  You laughed at her excitement as Jimin disagreed. 

“No way! Y/n is way out of my league. If anything I'm the lucky one here!” He exclaimed and it sounded like he meant it.  That this wasn't all just a contracted marriage between human and demon. “I’m just happy I met her in the first place, now I get to marry her.  I’m definitely the luckiest.” He, finalized, your boss swooning at him as her own cheeks reddened. 

“You’re so fond.  I do hope you both make each other happy.”  Jimin nodded as he checked the watch on his wrist.  He nudged you lightly, gesturing to the time.  You squeaked as you unconsciously pecked him on the cheek and rushed behind the counter and into the back to clock in and strap on your apron.  Jimin chuckled at you as your boss stood around longer.  “Y/n is such a sweetheart,” she cooed.  

“Yes, she is,” Jimin agreed.  “She’s gone through a lot over her life, but I’m truly grateful that she somehow ended up at my side.” He bent down to get closer to the older woman and smiled at her, you on his brain.  “I’m going to make her happy for sure! But, I don’t actually know her favorite kind of pastry.  You don’t happen to know, do you?” 

“I do!  If you offer her one of my son’s cream puffs, she’s absolute putty in your hands' young man.” Jimin nodded.  

“Thank you very much!” He cheered.  He knew a lot about you, but not everything.  He desired to learn everything he could.  When he learned another fact about you or saw you smile or fumble around in a spaz, he could feel that attachment in his chest tighten.  The sensation was nameless and addicting.

-XXX-

It’s been 4 months since Jimin showed up declaring himself as your betrothed. Since then, he somehow managed to get a job as a receptionist at a small little spa not too far downtown.  With his looks as well as his sweet human personality, he was a catch.  You wondered how he ever qualified for any jobs at all with him being a demon prior to everything.  He flat out told you he lied and created fake documents of education and even past experience that you were 100% sure he didn’t have. 

You had to admit that you admired his studious attitude when it came down to his work though.  His ethic and willingness to learn and be trained so diligently was shocking for a demon.  He read on spa therapies from skincare to massages to manicures and pedicures.  From fact to fiction and when it came time to work on his own without a trainer, he did incredibly well.  

As a demon, he seemed to genuinely enjoy his work.  Plus, he often offers you shoulder massages when you're working it double-time between work and school.  You were probably the most grateful for that.  

His kindness continued to baffle you.  Even after all these months, the way he smiled and joked and actually seemed to care about the world around you didn’t make him seem like a demon at all.  You would often forget he wasn’t human, his origins slipping your mindscape until he would return to his grey-skinned, horned and clawed self. You remember him asking you if his real appearance ever bothered you. 

“Hey, Y/n?” Jimin had just walked into the apartment from work as you sat cross-legged on the floor in front of your coffee table in the living room.  Textbooks open and bookmarked, notebooks scribbled in and small doodles taking up space in any open corner when your concentration drifted off. You hummed at him as he moved to sit on the couch behind your back.  “You don’t mind if I look like a demon when I’m inside, do you?” 

You stopped your notes as you put your pencil down in the fold of the pages and turned at your hips to look at him behind you. 

“Do I mind if you look like a demon?”  He nodded.  “Jimin why would you care if I care if you look like that?” He was still in his human appearance as he looked almost timid.  Not making eye contact and looking worried like you would reject him if he looked devilish. 

“I just- I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”  Jimin is by far the most respectable demon you’ve ever met (even though he’s the only demon you’ve ever met). You rolled your eyes as you turned back to our notes, Jimin ready to complain when you finally answered him. 

“There’s no reason to be uncomfortable around you, human or demon.  It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you told him. “And it’s not like we’re on the ground floor, no one will see you from outside, just don’t go out on the balcony like that.” You looked outside the two tall, sliding glass doors to your small balcony on the 3rd floor.  “Besides, you’re pretty charming as a demon,” you tacked on.  You were scribbling more notes down, looking back and forth between your textbook and notes to make sure you were writing in the lines in legible writing.  

You felt Jimin moving behind you as he soon moved to slide off the couch to sit beside you.  He put his head on the table, looking at you with his grey skin and small spiraled horns pointing outwards away from his forehead. He smiled up at you as you moved to look down at him, his fangs as white as ever. 

“So, I’m charming?” His tail whipped around behind him as you just scoffed with a smile and went back to work.  He quickly sat up. “I learned this really cool massage trick at work, wanna see!” He offered as you stopped him from reaching out to touch you at all.  

“You will not attempt to massage anything with those hands. Last time you did, your stupid claws cut up my shoulders!”  

“I’ll shorten them then!” 

“What’s so funny?” Jimin, who sat across the middle console from you, asked.  You both were currently sat in your car, suitcases packed for the weekend on your way to your parent’s house.  After 4 months, they grew antsy on now actually meeting Jimin.  Despite talking to him on the phone or seeing him when you would video call your mother, an in-person meeting was well overdue. Jimin didn’t seem to mind, you were a bit worried though.  

You still weren’t sure how committed Jimin was in his role that 13-year-old you forced him in.  He’s easy to be with and he acts like the ever-charming fiance that he was, but that was all that you thought it was.  Him filling out his job and that made you nervous as you both got closer and closer to your destination.  Making your hands tighten on the steering wheel as you drove the roads most familiar to you. 

Jimin could smell your anxiety from a mile away, much less 2 feet apart in a confined space like your small car.  If you weren’t pressing your toe on the gas, he was sure you’d be bouncing your leg in anxiousness.  A habit he picked up on you did.  Instead, he watched your tighten and loosen just to retighten your hands around the steering wheel.  

He felt like he wasn’t doing enough.  He’s been beside you for 4 months and you still seemed distant in some ways.  You still didn’t feel comfortable enough for him to sleep next to you, so he was sleeping every night on your couch (at least it pulls out into a bed). He heard that you sometimes still had a choked throat each time you had to explain that he was engaged to you.  And you hadn’t brought up the topic of a wedding since the one day he talked to you about it when he took you to work for the first time. 

There was a lot of hesitation in your head and body it made him think he made possibly be doing something wrong. He knew that you were stuck in the thought that he was just working.  You were a job and that’s what you keep telling yourself, convincing yourself that you really didn’t matter to Jimin in the long run.  Despite him telling you time and time again that you were an attachment that was absolutely forbidden to him and his kind, you just couldn’t bring yourself to accept that.  

You, plain simple and uninteresting you.  You who waited two years for college and grew up alone.  You who had only started living alone in your 23rd year.  You who was so lonely as a child you summoned a demon just for someone to talk to and ended up bringing him into your small circle of loneliness.  

You were an anchor holding Jimin in place and you thought of that as a burden.  While that anchor that is you was something so important to Jimin.  He just had to figure out how to drill it into your head that you were a blessing to him.  Lucifer be damned, if you were an angel, he’d cut off his own horns and turn his back on his kind to be with you. 

He watched as you turned the car, hands overlapping on the wheel.  Bodies jostling on the road as the highway you drove on turned into the gravel of a backroad.  

“They're pretty far from town, a lot of open areas and not too much to do,” you started, talking a bit louder over the crunching and grumbling tires of your car going over the rock and gravel.  “But, we have a lot of land and a really neat garden and greenhouse my mom really likes to take care of.  I’m sure we can find something to do,” you told him.  

Jimin nodded.  He wasn’t worried.  If he was going to win you over, he’d have to start with the two who raised you. Winning your parents would be easy.  He had a feeling from the many conversations he had with your mother, that she wouldn’t be a hard obstacle.  Your father seemed a bit more skeptic. He had every reason to be, Jimin was a demon after all. 

“A city detox is good on a demon.  The fresh air so much better than breathing in all that city smog and smoke.  Plus, the country smells better.”  

“Yeah,” you laughed, “you have a point.”  The rest of the trip passed and soon you were pulling into your parent’s driveway, your mother who sat on the front porch, reading a book on the bench swing.  Setting it down, pages open and spine up, she stood as you turned off the car and waved to her from your windshield.

You couldn’t hear her, but she looked over her shoulder, shouting into the house that was behind her.  Presumably shouting to your father that you and your new fiance had finally arrived.  Jimin noticed you take your time unbuckling and working your way out of your car.  Getting out after you, he watched your mother descend the few steps of the old townhouse.  She was quick to hug you, embrace you returned with a smile. 

Jimin had briefly seen your mother before.  Whether it be from his routinely watches as a demon as you grew older, or through the crappy quality of your mother’s phone during a Skype call.  She was a familiar face nonetheless.  Just as he saw her, she was soon greeting him and waving him over from across the car. 

“Jimin, darling!”  She greeted enthusiastically.  Swooping the man into a hug he wasn’t expecting.  Patting her back lightly, she pulled away.  He truly wasn’t used to any physical contact aside from you. You were the only human he allowed to even come near him in so long.  Your mother examined jimin.  Tilting his chin up and down, walking around him and humming.  She was literally sizing him up and looking at every inch of him (not that there’s many). 

“Mom! Don’t be rude to my fiance!”  You screeched as she circled him like a hawk. You slapped your palm to your face when she turned to you with a small older woman giggle and a hearty thumbs up.  Like she approved of the demon you were going to wed.  Jimin laughed at both of your antics. 

“Let’s not dilly-dally.  Everyone inside, come on.”  Your mother rushed you both up to the steps, claiming to get your bags out of the trunk later on.  When Jimin entered, he found out how much the inside of your home looked so different in the daytime. The difference between your lit halls and the halls he knew when he visited at the dead of night was shocking to him. Then again, even as a demon, he never went and wandered around your house.  More like quick peeks here and there. 

You watched from the corner of your eyes at Jimin’s reaction to being in your home of 22 years in his human appearance.  He’s only ever been here as a demon.  It was obvious your mother had tidied up the best a mother could.  Probably also employing the help of your father for some tasks that were a bit more herculean.  The fact that the sofa had been moved in the living room was a dead give away for that.  

As awkward as the first fiance and parent meeting should be, it wasn’t at all.  Jimin slatted right in, sitting next to you on the couch.  When spoken to he’d listen well and managed to keep eye contact with your father.  Something he didn’t realize human men had problems with when meeting their significant other’s parents. He truly seemed engaged in all conversation and was all smiles and energy as he sat beside you.  His hand occasionally find yours to hold behind the cushion you held on your lap. 

The night, Jimin sat in the middle of your bed, legs crossed as you were in the bathroom changing.  Despite the time he’s seen your change (once he was sitting on the sink when you got out of the shower and got a look at the goods before you threw a hairdryer at him), you still grew embarrassed about changing with him boring holes into your back. 

He had relaxed his body.  His horns poking out of his head as his tail lay on the mattress.  His skin greyed out and claws extended.  When you entered the room, you let out a small shriek and slammed the door behind you, locking it.  You stomped across the room, pointing into his face. 

“You can’t just change back into a demon here!” Jimin nearly went cross eyes at your finger at his nose. 

“Why not?” He innocently asked, but the sly grin on his face gave away his teasing undertone.  You stood back up, arms crossed.  You huffed.  “Oh please, if anyone besides you came in, I’d just hide and let your parents believe I took a shower with you.” 

“That’s ridiculous!” 

“No, it’s not. Couples shower all the time together.” He cupped his chin in his palm as he watched your face flush.  Taking a shower with Jimin was completely out of the question.  For one, he’s a demon! Regardless of if you were going to end up with him as your husband or not, he was completely different and who knows what he’s packing.  His anatomy is obviously way different than yours, or another mans given his horns and tail.  

You shake your head, trying to disperse the thought of even beginning to imagine what or what isn’t hidden below his belt.  Jimin stood as you internally panicked and he hooked his finger under your chin, making your concentration break and force your attention on him. 

“It’s been 4 months, love,” he started.  “Yet, I’m still capable of making your blush like the dawn.” His fang peeked out of hips dark lips as he pulled them back into a grin.  His eyes lit up a lighter shade of red as the lights flicked out.  You looked up to the bowl covered ceiling light before Jimin pulled your eyes back to him.  “I’d appreciate it if you kept your eyes focused on me,” he bit.  

“Jimin?” He seemed more possessive than usual.  He was always someone who wanted attention, but at the moment he seemed more demanding for attention than usual.  He moved to bite onto the side of your cheek as you squeaked.  He let it go before he licked it.  

“I used up a lot of energy staying human all day.  I need to recharge.”  Jimin spent the next half hour lavishing you in kisses and holding you.  He’s done this before- becoming exhausted is something a demon needs treatment for when in the human realm. Whether it be human food, drink or affection.  Jimin would cling to you when it happened, unable to revert to his human form.  Jimin as his demon self would bask in your warmth until he grew better.  It was alright because his cold body kept your burning one in check throughout the whole process. 

-XXX-

After the weekend trip to your parents, you were relieved when both your mother and father decided not to veto Jimin- since they really couldn’t because of the contract.  Accepting him and your decision to marry him your mother was hot on the ‘when is the marriage’ bandwagon. 

Weeks later, Jimin had woken up before you had.  It was early in the morning as you slammed the top of your alarm clock to shut off the first- of many- signs to get up and ready for school. You had grown used to feeling the dip in your bed that Jimin claimed or at the very least having him looping his leg around yours. But, this morning it was empty.  

Sitting up, the sky had turned grey. Not yet allowing the colors of dawn to breach the black night sky.  Jimin not being seen by you in the bedroom, you rubbed your eyes before you crawled out of bed.  Wrapping your blanket around your shoulders as you left your room.  

He wasn’t in the bathroom- he was fond of early morning baths.  Not the kitchen and his shoes were still here so he hadn’t left.  You found him standing in front of the balcony window, just staring outside.  His barbed tail was hung low and his body seemed rigid as he stood like he was on edge.  Moving to his side, you saw him looking outside like he was looking at something he deemed dangerous. He hadn’t even realized you were beside him.  Looking at his hand, his claws were open and his fingers were tense like he was ready to tear through something. 

“Jimin?” You whispered as he blinked and swiveled to look down at you.  He saw your brow etched down and your small hands peeking out from under the blanket you held over your shoulders. “Are you alright?” You asked slowly as to not provoke anything out of him. 

“It’s nothing,” he told you before he looked back outside.  “I hope.” 

When you left for school, he was constantly texting you every half hour or sooner.  He was asking random questions, asking how you were- anything to get a conversation started.  You thought maybe he was feeling some sort of weird demon-y way; maybe they start to miss their attachments after a certain period of time.  You weren’t sure and every time you asked him about it, it brushed it off to changed the topic. 

Jimin called you the moment you told him you had left class and were on the way to work a swing shift at work.  Seokjin was busy studying for tests, so you had to pick up his slack; much to Jimin’s dismay. He stayed on the phone with you the entire ride to the cafe and refused to hang up until you had clocked on- even saying a quick hello to your boss before he hung up. 

Jimin was on edge all night.  He knew you were working, that you were busy but he couldn’t sit still.  Something he felt earlier that morning made his skin crawl.  A dark presence hung in the air in the city he had been living in as a human and he didn’t like how familiar it was.  

He beat himself up over not being able to convince you to stay in today.  Skipping one day of school wouldn’t be so hard to convince you of, but you would’ve fought him tooth and nail about work.  He knew that you were going in today no matter what, but now it was reaching nearly 10 PM and he was biting his nails. 

Being so tense that he couldn’t hold his human form and was stalking around the apartment fully demon.  Black and grey robe fluttering at his brisk steps back and forth, bare feet and black hands curling and uncurling.  His barbed tail whipped like a nail in annoyance as his fangs gnawed on his lips. 

He verbally hissed, his eyes glowing and narrowing in the dark apartment (he hadn’t turned the lights on since sunset).  He blended in with the dark and shadowed home of his when he heard rattled from the front door.  He moved to jump into the air, sticking to the top part of the wall above the front door.  Tucking his legs in to hide in the corner.  He snarled at the scent on the other side that was certainly not yours. Whoever was on the other side of that door, they weren’t some household company.  The scent he caught of them was too bloody. 

When the door unlatched, the clicking of the lock opening, Jimin bared his teeth.  When the door was opened and someone stepped inside, Jimin pushed from the ceiling’s corner and swung at the stranger.  Claws ready to tear into their skin, but even as fast as Jimin was- this person had moved just in time to avoid him.  Jimin skidded onto the floor, knees bent as he sat like a beast on attack mode.  

The door shut behind the intruder as Jimin used the darkness to stay hidden.  Only his eyes that burned red in the darkness could give him away.  Even so, they were so narrow in defense that seeing them would be difficult.  His ears twitched when he felt something come towards him, jumping back he heard a crash in front of him- where he was just sat.  

Whatever was in here was just like him- not human.  He looked to his left, his right and above him.  Nothing seemed off in the shadows.  Whoever was with him was no longer in front of him either.  He gasped lightly when he felt something directly behind him.  Finding himself in a back and forth scrap with something he couldn’t see became bothersome. 

He swung and hissed at what could only be another demon in his home.  Tail flicking, sending small thorns around him as a defense as he kept jumping from ceiling to floor to wall to avoid whatever was attacking him.  It came to a standstill when the attacker flicked the lights on.  Jimin flinched before he was jumping onto the coffee table away from a direct kick that could have knocked him right on his ass if he hadn’t moved fast enough. 

The apartment was a mess.  Cracks and scratch marks on the floors and tears in the living room furniture.  Curtains from the balcony windows were torn and hanging on just barely to their rods. Jimin hissed, his hair seemed to stand on end as he stared at the attacker in front of him.  Stood in a black cloak, hood pulled up and concealing their entire face.  

The human colored tone of his skin that showed in his hand that was freely sticking out from the sleeve of the robe gave away that whatever demon he was dealing with wasn’t so powerful they could shift properly yet.  Why would a demon who attacked another demon have human skin on, unless they couldn’t revert due to power struggles? 

Jimin remained sat on the table, legs up and ready to move if the need arose as the hooded demon in front of him remained still.  It was as if there were two statues in your living room and not too demons.  Finally, the hooded attacker moved to reach into his cloak, Jimin baring his teeth at the movement.  His face fell for a moment, his mouth opening with a drawn-out gasp when the hooded demon pulled from his cloak a black ring.  

Jimin’s black ring.  Your black ring.  

Instinctively, he flicked his tail once again, thorns shooting at the hooded demon.  “Where is she,” Jimin demanded in a growl.  His voice coming out in layers, like a distorted evil.  The hooded demon placed the ring back into his cloak. “That belongs to me!” He screeched, ready to tackle and possibly tear out the demon’s throat until they tossed their hood off their head.  His face was painted in instant anguish seeing someone he knew so well in front of him.  “J-Jungkook?” 

“I’d recommend not trying anything stupid, Jimin,”  Jungkook spoke as his face was as static as a TV screen.  Jimin was speechless, seeing off all demons possible his brother.  Jungkook and Jimin had grown up as demon’s together.  They weren’t related by any standard, but they were brothers of another kind.  Why did Jungkook have your ring, and why was he here?  Did he track Jimin down, if so why?  Jimin blinked as he looked down, running question after question in his head until Jungkook moved.  Jimin, flicked his head back up, seeing Jungkook pull something from the sleeves of his robe like a magic trick.  

Throwing it at Jimin, the horned demon caught it easily.  A scroll was tossed at him.  Jimin carefully held it, his claws threatening to puncture or tear the paper. 

“Burn it,” Jungkook spoke.  His voice was cold.  Jimin shook his head. 

“What?” Jimin looked at the scroll and how took in how warm it felt resting in his hand.  “What is this, Jungkook?” 

“Your contract with that human.”  Jimin looked at it.  The tied scroll was his contract with you.  “You’ve already broken and defied enough rules.  Coming to the human world and spending your time with a human woman, how can you stomach it all.”  Jungkook’s distaste for humans was overwhelming and Jimin could feel his hate roll off him in electric waves. 

“This has nothing to do with you,” Jimin told him.  Finally standing up and stepping off the table, Jimin held the scroll at his side, gripping it tightly.  Protectively keeping the scroll at his side with no intentions of burning it at all.  

“If you burn that scroll,” Jungkook started, pointing at it, “I’ll return the human here and you’ll return to your duties after your trial.  You won’t go unpunished for getting attached to something of this world.”  Jimin’s calmed face immediately flared back up in anger, moving in a swift step to grab Jungkook’s color.  He growled into his brother’s face.  

“Where the fuck did you take her,” Jimin seethed.  He asked no questions, only making demands.  Jungkook gripped Jimin’s wrist that held him around the collar, the two shaking with how much anger was in their veins.  For two very different reasons.  “Where is Y/n.  Tell me, Jungkook!”  He screamed, fangs growing as Jungkook’s eyes shifted to violet as Jimin’s wrist began to burn.  

Jungkook was a demon on toxins.  

Poison laced his blood allowing him to create poison at any given time from any part of his body he wished.  Jimin didn’t flinch even when his demon flesh burned under a dim green light that came from Jungkook’s hand.  Jimin shoved his brother back, examining his wrist.  Grey was shriveled up and charred only for a moment before JImin’s healing kicked in and his flesh began to reknit and become once more flawless. 

The two brothers stood glaring at each other.  Jungkook was angry at Jimin’s choices and Jimin livid at Y/n’s apparent kidnap. 

“I won’t ask again, Jungkook.  Where did you-” 

“Just forget about the human!”  Jungkook finally broke his static facade and twisted his face in anger, shouting at Jimin.  “Forget the human, return to being a demon and burn your contract with her.  I’ve already retrieved your ring and I’ll begin whipping her memory as well.”  

“What?!” 

Jungkook creased his brow.  “What’s that look. You look angry. You can’t care about humans, they’re just a past time.  So what if that human forgets you, just let it go and return with me back home.”  

“This is my home and you’re invading and stealing it away from me.”  Jimin seethed, his voice as toxic as Jungkook’s skin.  

“This is no home for a demon!”  

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jimin said voice calm in anger.  He shook his head, getting overloaded with too many emotions at once.  Claws and fangs growing longers and eyes flickering with unstable reds that bled out of the iris into his scleras.  Wind of his own began whipping around him, fluttering his silk demonic robes and his black hair.  His horns spiraled higher out of his forehead, growing as his tail grew longer and wrapped around his waist like a belt of thorns.  His grey skin began to completely blacken like his hands and feet.  

Jungkook took a small step backward.  He hadn’t seen his brother like this but once when Jungkook was the victim of some stupid social hierarchy demonic bullshit.  Jimin tore his tormentors apart and if Jungkook wasn’t careful, Jimin seemed like he wouldn’t hesitate to tear him apart next.  

He hadn’t changed in size, but when he stepped up to Jungkook and moved quick enough to clasp his hand around his brother’s throat, he seemed as high as a 50-ft building Jungkook was going to be dropped off of.  Jimin’s tongue was that of a snake, split at the end and his breath was visible as he forced Jungkook to take him to you.  

If Jungkook didn’t want to die, he’d listen to his older brother.  It was his own fault if he died tonight. 

-XXX-

You groaned and shivered before coughing.  You opened your eyes, confused as to when you fell asleep in the first place.  Flinching, you hissed in pain from the stinging on the side of your head.  Touching above your ear, you felt something wet that had matted your hair.  Pulling on it, you hissed again in pain.  Sitting up from your laying position on what felt like a wooden floor, you gasped when your head hit something above you. 

Reaching up, you felt nothing but wood above you too.  Starting to panic, you felt around you.  Nothing but wood on every side.  Above, left, right and below.  However, in front of you wasn’t wood, but instead iron bars.  It was dark in what you could only assume was the cage you found yourself waking up in.  Having no idea what was going on, you gasped when a cloth was ripping off the box, squeezing your eyes shut at the sudden light.  

You screamed, scurrying back to the back of your caged box from the face of a dog in front of the iron bars.  It wasn’t just a dog.  It had 4 pairs of eyes, completely black as it’s tail behind it was split into to.  Its teeth pushed past its chops like a sabertooth and its size was far above what a normal K9’s would be.  It was purely demonic.  

Demonic.  Then it all came back to you.  

Someone had suddenly collapsed outside of your work when you had just left.  Worried, you approached them and knelt to offer any kind of assistance.  Pulling out your phone to call the police or ambulance or whatever they needed, you squeaked when they suddenly grabbed your wrist.  They held your hand to their face.  They seemed to be examining your ring. 

“What a pleasant looking ring,” they slurred.  Their voice sounded of uncomfortable ringing.  

“My- uh, my fiance gave me this ring,” you whispered.  

“Fiance, huh?” You saw a smile grow on the person’s face. Something was wrong.  You yanked your hand, trying to free yourself before the person tightening their grip.  You yelped as your wrist began to burn.  Falling from your kneeling position to crumbling on your knees, you whined.  Looking up with tear blurred eyes, you gasped at the violet glow of the man’s eyes. 

“You’re a demon?” You saw his fangs in the wide, sick grin of his. 

“Correct,” he slurred before he hit you aside from the head and next you knew, you were in this cage.  

You breathed quick shallow breaths, demon dog growling at you and barking.  Making you pull your knees to yourself as much as you could.  Tucking yourself into the corner of your prison. 

You held your hands to your chest when you noticed you weren’t wearing Jimin’s ring.  You gasped, as a tear left your eye.  

“No,” you gasped lightly.  Looking around your cage and feeling around for that familiar metal you couldn’t remove.  Did that demon take it off you?  You couldn’t take it off, only a demon could.  You sputtered as you coughed again, working yourself up too much.  

You sat against the back of your cage when the demon dog’s attention shifted from you to something behind him for a moment before being grabbed from its scruff.  The demon dog whined and yelped as it was tossed aside and suddenly a loud crash sound from around you.  You didn't know what was going on, screaming and holding above your head just in case something crashed through your cage.  

Looking through the cage, you saw someone thrown onto the ground.  It was that demon you found outside that kidnapped you.  You were ready to start screaming at him, putting on a tough front of insults while you shook and hid your fear from him.  Demon’s enjoyed the thrill of fear, so you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. 

You stopped yourself though.  He looked beaten all to hell.  Throat punctured and rolls of blood pulsing out of his skin as he held around his neck and gasped.  He lay on his back, weakly attempting to keep pushing himself back and away from something.  You couldn’t see what he was so afraid of until it came into full view.  

It was like a black cloud of absolute evil.  It made your throat dry and sweat drip down your neck.  Something in that cloud was nothing short of the devil himself.  Pure black and growling, thorns around it and stalking the demon on the ground like a high predator.  Though it was demonic, you couldn’t help but think it was familiar. 

The demon’s tail flicked around his waist, pinning your abductor to the concrete floors- thorns as tough as metal as the concrete split like it was nothing.  Another step encroached on the kidnapping demon and you called out to it. The faded memories that were almost wiped clean restored in a clean swipe and burst of your voice.

“Jimin..!”  It was a weak call, that fizzled into a cough.  The black cloud of moved to snap it’s head around to see you.  Imprisoned in a small cage.  You crawled to the iron bars and reached out towards it, trying to grasp something of his.  The cloud moved and before you knew it, it was knelt at your bars, as you felt the black cloud wiz through your skin like mist.  The pure red eyes and more intimidating persona did nothing to hide the familiarity of Jimin you knew was under there.  “Do you recognize me?”  

You’d never seen him like this before.  He looked absolutely feral, but it was till Jimin and when he moved to grab your hand in his overly demonic one, you just smiled.  He knew who you were. 

“Y/n,” his voice was deep and two-toned like there were two people talking in unison.  “You are alright,” he seemed to sigh and calm down.  The black cloud began to fade like fog and his body began to revert back.  Horns and claws and fangs shrinking, his pitch skin dulling back into its grey, reeling back to only his hands and feet.  You watched his eyes revert back to their oval red in the iris only.  “Do you- do you remember who I am?” 

His eyes were downcast as he held your hand, voice shaky. You felt your chest burn as tears dripped from his eyes.  He let go of your hand to grab the iron bars that held you and ripped them clean out, throwing it aside with an ear-piercing echo of metal on the concrete floor.  

He pulled you from your cage as he fell to the floor.  You sat in front of him.  His head fell, ducking down to your stomach as he wept, holding onto your hand with enough grief to last him the rest of his prolonged lifetime.  You shed your own tears, laying over his back, basking in the presence of each other.  

You gasped when you noticed a shadow over Jimin’s back.  There stood your kidnapper, Jungkook and a knife of amethyst in his hand.  He was ready and willing to stab his brother in the back and you couldn’t get a word out of your mouth, his eyes of violet canceling your voice.  You tried pulling your hand from Jimin’s so you could shield him perhaps, but Jimin refused to release it.  

Swing his arm down aiming for his brother’s back, you couldn’t even scream.  Jimin remained motionless as his tears had stopped and he remained hunched over in your arms.  He had known his brother well and he knew that if Jungkook couldn’t bring him back, he’d settle for killing him. It wouldn’t work, however; Jimin was too smart and Jungkook too reckless.  

That’s how everything resulted in Jimin’s tail whipping at Jungkook’s arm and having him plunge the knife into his own stomach. You gasped when you saw the black blood pour over his lips as he fell to his knees behind his brother.  Jimin sat up, letting you go before he moved to kneel in front of his dying brother.  

“You killed yourself, Jungkook,” Jimin told him.  Searching around his robe for his ring that he had taken back into his possession. “You died for nothing.  I will not return and I will stay by Y/n until my life ends.  I will convert into a human if I must.  I will not leave her.”  He lowered his eyes, looking solemnly at his fallen brother he did love once.  “I love her too much,” he whispered in nothing short of pain. 

Jungkook’s last emotions before he died were nothing but hate.  Hate towards Jimin for falling for a human, for becoming attached to anything.  Hate towards you for bewitching his brother into something that was no longer selfish and instead selfless.  Hate towards himself for letting himself die as a result of attempting to kill his brother who had protected and raised him for centuries.  He hated and he hated until he turned to dust and vanished.  

Jimin looked over his shoulder at you. You looked confused and scared, as you should be- you were only human.  He looked at the rin in his palm before he put it in his pocket and helped you to stand weakly.  He held you to his chest, your knees not as strong as you wanted them to be.  

“Let’s go home,” he told you, wrapping you in his robe before he dissolved into the shadows, the lights of the concrete room he was in bursting and the light vanishes.  You were home before you knew it and Jimin was sitting you on your torn couch.  “Jungkook came here,” Jimin started as he sat on the ground in front of you.  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he choked.  

His lips felt chapped and stung, his breathing heavy and harsh.  

“I’ve contemplated leaving.” He pulled the scroll Jungkook gave to him and set it on your lap.  “That is the contact you formed with me,” you looked at it, holding it in your hands.  It felt heavy, like the burdens of a 13-year-old girl who was lonely and just wanted someone to be with her.  “I’ll let you make the decision.  Y/n, you can burn that scroll.  Tear it up and throw it out along with me- remove all the demonic pieces of your life I brought.  Or, you can choose to allow me to stay.” 

You sighed as you set the scroll aside, placing it on the couch cushions.  You grabbed Jimin by his horns and tilted his head up, shoving it with a bit too much force as his neck pinched.  You then picked the scroll back up and shoved it into his face.  

“You’re a demon of trades, right. Well, I’m making a trade right now,” you told him.  “I’ll give you back this scroll, the contract I made with you when I was just a kid.  In return, you give me back my damn engagement ring.”  Jimin blinked up at you.  

“What?” 

“Park Jimin, if you don’t become my husband like you promised and after you got me all wrapped around your demonic little finger, I’m going to be seriously pissed.”  You set the scroll on his head, his horns holding it up like a rack as he huffed and took it off his head into his hands again.  The warmth bringing him comfort.  “That’s my promise in your hands, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t take your wife’s promise for granted.” 

Jimin tossed the scroll aside, reach up to grab the back of your neck and pull you down to meet his lips.  He breathed through his nose choppy breaths as he kept kissing you, sobbing almost as the relief of you allowing him to stay made him feel like he could float.  He felt more like a blessed angel than an engaged demon.  

Pulling away from you, he placed his ring back on your finger where it belongs.  The weight of its return made you sigh in content.  Jimin could feel his connection with it and you return and it was stronger than it was before.  

“You do know that I’m agreeing to this because I love you, right?” You asked.  You didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.  The situation was terrifying, there was no sugar coating that.  Not to mention the knot on your head from when Jungkook hit you wouldn’t be healing any time soon.  But, that didn’t make you fear JImin or the consequences of who he was to you.  You needed him to know you choose to do this because it’s what you want, not what you fear.  

“Say, do you know what a bride of a demon is called?” Jimin asked as he moved to stand in front of your on the couch.  Leaning down to cage you to your spot with his arms on the back of the couch behind you.  You rose your brow.  “A demoness,” he slurred with a smirk.  Avoiding your question entirely as you frowned.  

“Someones getting better at dodging questions,” you accused.  

“Your human is rubbing off on me.” 

“Well, your demon is rubbing off on me!”  You retorted before he plopped himself down on your lap, trapping you entirely as his tail wrapping around your leg in his familiar, endearing habit.  

“I love you too, my little human taboo.” Your wedding was 2 months later as your demon husband-to-be stood waiting for you at the small courthouse alter. 

-END-

(tell me what you thought of this pls ily)

[eyeslikefoxglove]

Episode 21 - The PTSD is strong with this one & we need more braincells

Hello hello! Welcome to the commentary. How’s everyone? I’m frozen solid because it’s mid-June in Spain and yet we had 11°C yesterday. Fucking awesome!

I AM NOT WEARING MASCARA SO I CAN CRY ALL I WANT. I DONT KNOW IF THATS GOOD OR BAD THO.

Can I just take a second to appreciate how much this big strong powerful men emote? I mean, I know this isn’t western media where the tough guy can’t show emotions, and I don’t know that eastern media has the same hangups about men emoting but just... it’s so refreshing.

Huaisang bb you’re so sweet.

Oh, oh the PTSD is strong with this one.

Also, bless both JC and NHS, they absolutely noticed WWX flinch and, in their own ways, went and steamrolled over it so WWX wouldn’t feel scrutinised.

WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST TO INFORM YALL THAT I GOT A KITTEN ON MY LAP. (She’s kneading my boob, which, ow, but...)

*BICHEN GRIIIIIIIP*

How do y’all think the guards go deliver bad news to WRH? Like do they paper-rock-scissor it? Draw straws?

NMJ did you have to?

And once again I wonder what would’ve happened if JFM had let sect leader Yao kick it.

Ughvhfnevus it’s this clown. Same as with Su She, if you see a bunch of screaming it’s just me not wanting to listen to Jin ZiXun.

The Nies: let’s throw a banquet to honour WWX’s return

Every asshole there: *gossips about WWX while in the room with him*

Once again I wish I could transmigrate (and speak mandarin lol) and just start delivering tongue lashings.

Listen, I have no idea how to play Guqin, but I did play the guitar for years and even from here I can see how much YiBo’s hands don’t match the melody. Nothing against him but why does this always happen? I know they got classes, so was the music not written by that time or something? Because one thing is not hitting the correct notes, another is plucking slow notes when the tempo is much faster.

JC: Since yours and LWJ’s unhappy separation...

My dumbass: do you mean breakup? *eyebrow waggle*

You will pry my “JC knows his brother is pinning after LWJ, he probably doesn’t want to know anything else” hc out of my cold dead hands thankyouverymuch.

WWX: *spouts a bunch of misdirection to avoid giving JC a straight answer*

JC: Bull-fucking-shit.

Should I count how many times WWX PTSDs all over the place or would you like me to leave your hearts intact? That’s two so far.

Ok ok, I feel that, if someone with a bit less trauma and a bit of insight (NHS maybe?) had seen the bit where ChenQing fucking hurts Shijie thing would’ve gone differently. I mean, yes, LWJ keeps warning WWX that this shit is gonna fuck him up, but as I said in my previous commentary LWJ also has the communication skills of a hermit crab so that wouldn’t work, and JC would be too wound up and WWX too busy trying to conceal his lack of golden core for that conversation to go anywhere. But if someone who WWX knows is a good egg (I’m not gonna say trusts bc paranoia) had sat him down and told him “your new instrument that you use for your new form of cultivation just hurt the person you love most please be careful when you use it.” I think it would’ve worked wonders towards his health overall.

I know Shijie says it’s like Zidian, but she’s not working with the fact that this thing is made for and by the Dark Side of the Force and I’m sorry but I can’t help but see ChenQing as a bit of a horrocrux almost. Or like, if you like me think the Burial Mounds is an Entity, something that’s a bit more sentient that it lets on.

Speaking of reputations and NHS being a good egg, I have oh-so-many ideas (I won’t say plot bunnies because I can’t write for shit) in which NHS for Reasons (time-travel? Letter from the future? His massive brain?) realises just how much damage WWX is doing to his public image. And he might be a sheltered dandy, but he saw what being the son of a sex worker did to Meng Yao despite how hard he worked (I’m assuming he doesn’t know about the whole betrayal business). This is way fucking worse, like hell is he going to let one of his best friends paint a target on his back. So he pulls back his sleeves, engages his slytherin brain and proceeds to lay down a plan to throughly destroy WWX’s reputation as a powerful genius.

I’m guessing LWJ and JC protest, and maybe WWX, and NHS just hits them with “do you want him respected or alive?” And they shut tf up. He glues himself to WWX, and brings up as many instances in which their behaviour can be compared as he can (we got drunk and punished at cloud recesses, we slept in class, we skipped to go fishing, I don’t carry my sword either). And, because assholes be assholes, people like Sect Leader Yao or Clown Cousin are quick to start spouting their own derogatory bullshit and thus WWX the untamed powerful prodigy dies a fiery death. Now he’s just a mouthy kid with a quick mind that “does tricks instead of battle” (I’ll never get bored of using that Thor quote). I also like to think that people who personally know WWX and are not pieces of shit go give NHS a tongue lashing for messing with what they thought was his friend, NHS takes that as a test of good eggness and bring them into the plan. Soon the whole Cloud Recesses class is swearing up, down, left, right and centre that all the shit WWX has ever successfully pulled is just an insane amount of luck and quick thinking.

I don’t know how would they work him into the battlefield (disguise? Mask?) to unleash his demonic cultivation but that’s Plot and I don’t do that.

Also, because I’m a terrible human being I want to say that people assume LWJ is on “pretty but useless” WWX like white on rice because *insert derogatory comment about being good in bed and sexual favours*. Because y’all know the assholes here are Like That. And WWX is horrified because holy fucking shit he’s gonna drag LWJ’s reputation down, he can’t have people thinking HGJ is ok with having him as a concubine pretty much. But before he can act LWJ politely all but confirms that yeah, he’s tapping that, y’all wish you were but he doesn’t share and none of y’all are good enough for his Wei Ying anyway. CUE FAKE/PRETEND RELATIONSHIP BECAUSE I AM INDEED TRASH FOR THAT TROPE.

Muahahahaha y’all thought I was gonna devolve into my personal hcs and not include my fave trope? Shouldn’t y’all know me better by now?

(Btw I like this bit ^ so I might polish it a little and post it separately as well, just a warning if you find yourself reading an eerily similar post by me)

WuJi is playing and LWJ is pining so much. Also, if LWJ did not just realise that, just like Yu the Great, WWX had no other option but tame resentful energy I’ll eat my blanket.

I refuse to believe Jiang Yanli didn’t become the unofficial war camp therapist/sounding board/only sane person/everyone’s mum/I just need a hug and a corner to cry in peace. There are not enough fics about Shijie being her gentle BAMF self while in the camp and it’s a pity. My crops are dying y’all!

Also, I will fight anyone who scoffs at Shijie being the epitome of the “gentle woman who cooks and waits for the men to come back from war”. Look at her mum, do you think it is easy for a kid (she was a kid in the flashback when WWX ran away) to see that day in and day out, to have that as a “role model” and decide that she was not going to be like her mum? That she didn’t like what she saw in her so she was going to be kind and gentle? And do you think it is easy for a person barely in their twenties to deal with years of verbal and psychological abuse for again, being gentle and kind, and not grow a hard shell of bitterness to protect themselves? And to keep being gentle and kind while at war, with your parents dead and your siblings unraveling before your very eyes? Shijie is so fucking strong and I love her.

Hey look, the White Walkers!

“Resentful energy is just energy” ok, valid. But my dude, you’ve got black ghost smoke coming out of you and can hear people screaming in your head. I’m not saying it is evil, like someone’s uptight set in his ways arrogant uncle; but it sure as shit ain’t healthy.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH (that’s a Clown Cousin scream btw)

Ok ok, just one little thing: IF SOMEONE ELSE CALLS WWX WEI YING AS A SHOW OF DISRESPECT IMMA SCALP THEM.

...are those crows eating that man alive? Yikes on bikes.

(Assume my comment about YiBo’s Guqin playing also goes for Xiao Zhan and his flute. I can’t play the flute but the tempo doesn’t match his fingers)

I’m just gonna say it, I think 3zun (well, 2zun as of now) suspect shit went down badly for WWX, that’s two questions by both of them in a very soft conciliatory tone. They are genuinely interested/worried about the topic, and don’t seem to come off as chiding or judgemental. I mean WWX is a weirdo irreverent kid and they’re sect leaders, they outrank him so much it’s ridiculous. I’m also counting the fact that both their baby brothers like him towards them being so kind. But I also think WWX just triggers all their big brother instincts the second he walks in.

Oh there’s a thought, Shijie, Wen Qing, NMJ and LXC take a look at everyone’s shitty parents and just decide to adopt everyone.

What happened at Yiling was a traumatised teenager (is WWX even 20?) PTSDing all over the place with the Dark Side of the Force whispering in his ear and an all powerful trinket at his disposal. Not saying I approve of all the torture and murder but he clearly isn’t revelling in them.

That is some outstanding bit of big-brothering on LXC’s side and I love it. Also, my dumbass just realised LWJ probably wasn’t quoting WWX when he was being punished (what is white what is black?) I think he was quoting his big brother. Which is magnitudes deep too, but in a different direction and I might love that scene even more.

Ok fuck it, I’m gonna tangent. So I had a terrible boyfriend when I was 15-18. He alienated me from my friends, sunk my self-esteem to the molten core of the earth, tried to convince me my parents were abusive and encouraged (aka threatened manipulated and cajoled) the slow tanking of my high school marks. I have A Problem when I see media where someone latches onto their significant other and everything they are shifts towards that person. Now, love, true genuine love, is powerful, and I believe it can be the catalyst for shifting your world-view for the better. I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t have a problem with people sticking with their romantic partner if it is clear their previous “family” is so much shit. I don’t have a problem with LWJ coming out of his shell and defying corrupt precepts because his love for WWX made them see they were wrong, or getting sassy and unrepentant during his punishment (I have a problem with the punishment bc that’s abuse but...). But I do side-eye WangXian being the only thing in their orbit. People need people, and WangXian have other good people around them. So I kind of love that yes, WWX showed him the system was corrupt, but it is the words of his brother he is sticking by to the defy said system.

Let’s go back to our scheduled slew of held pinning glances shall we?

LXC after That awkward run-in: WangJi I wasn’t gone that long, what the fuck did you two oblivious pining idiots do?

(LXC has “bitching” tea sessions with Shijie and you can’t convince me otherwise)

LWJ: *is being dramatic and not knocking on WWX’s door*

Me: oh my god you fucking idiot

Shijie: *walks in*

Me: oh thank god someone with a braincell.

Ah yes, there we go triggering WWX’s paranoia again. Why would he get a break.

OH MY GOD YOU PAIR OF FUCKING IDIOTS. THATS IT, FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT.

@ LWJ: bitch wtf was that? I know you’re shit at talking but have you thought about writing it down? Letters anyone? It worked for mr. Darcy.

(Yes LWJ is mr darcy and now I want an au where LWJ writes WWX letters and just pours everything in them, WWX finds them, any everything is sunshine and rainbows)

While this bullshit fight/misunderstanding is all on LWJ’s shoulders, I’m also going to scream at WWX. Because yes, he is in PTSD hell, but he trusted LWJ before, and yet he can’t get past his perceived notion of LWJ’s character (and his own inadequacies) to trust him again and ask for help. Plus, you know, he thinks he doesn’t deserve he’ll bc *waves hand at WWX’s trauma conga line*

These episodes can’t be good for my BP.

Thanks for reading!

[neon-caskets]

No more, no less

Three X Reader from 6 Underground.

~~Three wants a relationship with the reader, but to her, the relationship is just friends with benefits. The reader is the Vegas decoy, and this brings Three’s feelings to the surface~~

TW// Blood, death, swearing (it’s a Ryan Reynolds movie, this was to be expected lmao), Four being a smooth-talker, unprotected sex, oral sex (both parties receiving), my mediocre writing lmao

Requested by anonymous: “Can you please write a Three x Reader for Six underground where he's jealous and wants a real relationship but readers just wants friends/co worker with benefits. Thank you so much! Love your blog!”

I love this idea! Hope this was something like what you wanted

(Y/n = Your Name, h/c = hair color, e/c = eye color, s/c = skin color, you get the idea lol)

“One, I swear to God, if even one of those gross old men put so much as a finger on me because of this getup...” You muttered as you stepped out of the private jet’s bathroom in your outfit. Red lingerie with intricate lace and stockings. “Well?” You pushed h/c hair behind her ears, e/c eyes avoiding the group out of awkwardness.

The other ghosts gave you a quick glance over, Three’s eyes hovering longer than they should have. None of the others knew about your secret evening meetups, what Three and Eight did in the dead of night when the two of you were alone. They, You, if you wanted to remain on the team, needed to keep it this way. He eventually pulled his eyes away from the lingerie that hugged every curve of your s/c skin.

“Do I look like a lady hired to please the four generals?” You rephrased, raising your brows.

“Definitely,” Five nodded quickly. “You really look the part...” She trailed off as a whistle interrupted her.

Four whistled at you and everyone rolled their eyes. One shook his head, “You’ve got no subtlety.”

“Because I need subtlety,” The blond-haired British parkour expert retorted. He gave you a blink-and-you-miss-it wink and commented, “You look good. Really good.”

“Keep it in your pants, Four,” Seven remarked, tossing you a red dress that would cling to your skin. “I’ll go set up a sniper nest.” He left quickly after, duffel bag with a sniper rifle inside in his hand.

You slid the dress on over your head and asked Four, “Zip me up?”

As the others busied themselves for the job, Four placed one hand on your hip from behind and the other on the zip of your dress, whispering so softly that only you could hear, “Honestly, Eight, I could, but really I just want to take it off you again.” Four did love to be suggestive.

You didn’t notice the look of sheer jealousy being shot towards you and Four from Three. He was barely able to bite his tongue as he put on his disguise and prosthetics and hid away his handgun.

Four knew to behave and zipped up your dress. He passed you a smile that reminded you just how hot you looked right now in your sexy little number, and then he left to prepare for his part of the job too.

Three watched as you left the jet and headed towards the Las Vegas hotel and racetrack. To say he was jealous was an understatement.

~~A little later~~

You tagged along with the other ladies heading to the hotel room of the Turgistan generals. It was your job to find the one that knew the most about where the brother of the Turgistan dictator was being held, get him away from the others, and keep him busy whilst Two and Three cleared the room and neutralized potential threats.

The generals weren’t exactly eye candy. Three was sweet and, as you’d discovered, definitely hit the spot. These four older men were a little less pleasant. When the leading lady introduced the group as a ‘gift’ to the generals, you tried not to gag.

There were six ladies including you, so you hopped onto the glass table at the side of the lush hotel suite and held the knuckle of your index finger between your lipstick red lips as the other women started showing off their lingerie in a strip show for the generals. You crossed one leg over the other as you observed not the scene of ladies hired to please these men, but the room itself. With a keen ear, you heard one of the generals tell another in a thick Turgistan accent, “What a reward for what you know! Do you think we would be getting this reward if you weren’t so knowledgable on our leader’s brother?”

In their racy lingerie, the ladies split up, two to two men, one to another, and you hopped down from the table and placed yourself in front of the man who you decided probably knew the most. A false smile crawled over your lips, but a joyous one formed on his face. You led him to the enormous bedroom, leaving your red high heels outside the door as a sign for Two and Three when they arrived.

Both you and the general looked back to the door when you heard the other women shriek and someone’s body hit the floor, but you distracted the general by holding his face in one hand and making him look at you, “Sounds like they’re having a good time.”

Fuck this. You internally died as the general started loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Seriously, fuck this.

The door burst open, and Two and Three strode in. You sighed in relief before grabbing the general by the tie, tightening it, and shoving his face down against the bed as Three aimed a gun at him and Two handcuffed the ladies to the furniture in the living room.

“Thank God you got here when you did. There was not a chance in hell I was stripping for this dude,” You told Three, who smiled proudly. Then you gave your attention to the general, “You’re the last living general. Tell us everything you know, or we kill you too.”

“It’s too late,” He began shakily. “The deal is done. Two tons of gas, delivered by tomorrow.”

Then One, disguised as what you guessed was meant to be a biker, walked in. “Where are you keeping Rovach’s brother? Three seconds, be specific. Talk! Three... two...”

“Ni Hai Tower. Hong Kong. Penthouse.”

“... One.”

Three put a bullet through the general’s head and he fell to the floor.

“Why did Two and Three get to be tennis players and I got this?” You asked One, gesturing to your outfit.

One stared at Two then Three, “Tennis players? That’s what those disguises are?” He sighed, shaking his head, walking away.

“Your costume’s stupid too, motorcycle dick!” Three called after him. You sighed heavily, hanging your head back tiredly. You followed Two and Three out to help them handcuff the other women to the furniture and drag the bodies of the generals into a neat pile in the corner. 

Two then, graciously, told you that she was able to carry on from here and that your shoes would trail the blood out, so she took over for you. This gave you the opportunity to explore the hotel suite for a while. It was huge. Everything was expensive. In fact, it was its own enormous, fancy floor. You heard Two shout an ‘Au Revoir’ to you and Three, then she left to find One and the others. 

Three startled you when he opened the door from a lounge area on the opposite side of the floor to where the generals had been killed. You noticed the thoughtful look in his eyes, like he was lost in his own mind, and you gently took his hand, “You okay?” He sighed before cupping your face with his free hand, pressing his lips to yours. This was how many of your interludes began, he would lead the way and you’d follow, but this time felt like he was leading down a different road. One that wasn’t as clear to see down. one that you couldn’t pinpoint on a map. You pulled back, “What’s going on, Three?”

“I didn’t like the way Cuatro was looking at you. He was practically undressing you with his eyes.” Three kissed your palms and continued, “And then you get sent here to be the decoy for the general? Dressed like this? It’s enough to make any man go mad, mi amor.”

You felt your chest become heavy, as if your heart started pumping liquid lead instead of blood. One recruited you because of your ability to read people, and right now, Three was an open book. You knew this was a possible side effect. You knew it was a risk. But Three was addictive, enticing. You had him once as a late-night hookup and from there you were hooked. The nights became regular meetings, in your trailer back in the Californian desert, or in his. The casual conversations when the others weren’t around slowly became conversations about what your lives were like before faking your deaths, personal things. The friendly touches when you passed, small things like a hand to a shoulder, started to feel like they sparked things in each of you; for you, they meant you were overdue a hookup with Three, but for him, they were his feelings for you blossoming. It was as you’d feared; he wanted this to be more. He wanted a relationship.

“Three... we can’t. I just... I just don’t feel the same,” You told him honestly, deciding that prolonging this would hurt him more, and you cared enough not to do that to him. Three’s eyes glazed as he processed your words. And soft as you’d tried to be, cushioning the blow that you knew would still hurt, you still felt guilt. “Three, I’m sorry.”

He dropped your hand gently, his fingers trailing out of yours slowly, hesitantly. “It’s alright.” But he was forlorn, uncertain. His eyes met yours and he then told you, “I found the biggest bed I’ve ever seen in my life, if you’re interested.”

A small smile crept up on you. “Sounds fun.”

~~Shortly after~~

One of Three’s hands was next to your head, the other against your jaw as you kissed, your back up against the wall. It was heated, passionate, needy. Three's lips locked onto your collarbone, sucking a grouping of hickeys onto your skin, kissing each one that he made. You gave Three a slight push back as you unzipped your dress and it pooled at your feet. You kicked off your heels and Three's eyes raked over her body.

"Fuck," He mumbled into another kiss, "You're gorgeous." He pulled his shirt off and dropped his pants, lifting you by the thighs towards the bed.

Three's lips met yours for another deep kiss as his hands reached behind you to unclip your bra. It was thrown to the floor quickly, and Three's mouth found your breasts, kissing a trail between them, tongue swirling around your nipple as his hand fondled the other. You arched your back as you gradually became more and more turned on. You ran your hands up Three's muscular chest as he toyed with your nipples and left love-bites across your chest.

You reached down, hand finding Three's boxers. His breath hitched in his throat as you palmed him and he got harder. Your other hand dug into his back as he sucked and nibbled the sweet spot on your collar.

Three sat up and hurriedly shuffled out of his shorts, not wanting to wait another second. He hooked his fingers to your panties and looked up at you for confirmation. You nodded and lifted your hips as Three slid your panties off of you, leaving you both totally exposed to each other.

Three sat between your legs, trailing two fingers down your inner thigh, watching the way your brows softened and your bottom lip was clamped between your teeth. You were already so wet for him. He held the apex of your thigh as he brought his head down to lick up your soaked womanhood, eliciting a desirous moan from you beneath him. Three ever so lightly kissed your clit and you gasped in response. Every kiss and lap of his tongue had a raw intensity, yet it numbed your mind. He ran one finger down your slit before pushing two inside, curling up as he continued licking at you, lapping up the wetness.

You writhed under Three as he pumped two fingers into you and continued to send tingles of electricity through your core as a coil of heat started to pool there, waiting to unravel.

And then he pulled out, licking his fingers clean of the shiny wetness that they had sustained. Slowly, he kissed from your navel, all across your stomach and chest, leaving a few more hickeys before molding his lips to yours again. It was like you both were meant for this, lips fitting together so perfectly, bodies moving in sync with each other.

Three teasingly rubbed his hard cock up and down your slick folds, loving the way you mewled and whined out his name, practically begging. Your fingers dug into Three’s back as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, breathing you in as he slowly pushed himself into you, stretching you open, filling you with warmth.

You scraped one hand up Three's back as a moan flew from your lips. Three trailed one of his hands up your other arm which was by your head and laced his fingers with yours as he thrust into you. Three's eyes flickered up to yours for a split second and a smile blossomed on his face, absorbing each detail on your face, lower lip between your teeth in pleasure. To him, you looked like a goddess. Glowing. He then took your lips against his, kissing you deeply as he started to become sloppy in his thrusts from tiring.

You held her arms around Three's neck, legs wrapped around him, making his cock hit your g-spot with each thrust. You arched your back again as the knot of heat that made a home in your abdomen grew. "I'm gonna come..."

"Come for me," Three said huskily into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth, nibbling lightly. A few thrusts after and the heat in you burst and you came all over Three's cock.

Three was close to his own climax and pulled out quickly, sitting on his knees. You crawled over to him and left a feather-light kiss on the tip of his cock. You pumped him a few times, licked up his full length, and took him in your mouth. You bobbed up and down on him. One of Three’s hands tugged on your hair as you took his full length in your mouth, squeezing his balls, earning a moan from Three.

"I'm close..." Three moaned as you continued bobbing on him, swirling your tongue across the head, licking away leaking pre-cum. When you felt his cock twitch in your mouth, you took him to the back of your throat, nearly gagging from the size, and Three came. You swallowed every drop, and Three fell to the bed beside you.

Three took you in his arms, both of you melting into another kiss. More gentle than the ones you just shared. It was filled with warmth. Three rubbed circles onto your hip with his thumb, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"You know," You began with a smile, fingers lightly tracing the curvature of Three's collarbone, "I have a theory."

"Oh yeah?" Three arched a brow, a small smile tugging his lips upward as he softly trailed his fingers up and down the small of your back. "What's that?"

"One only made the no-fucking rule because he's too much of an asshole to get laid."

Warm laughter filled the quiet. You liked the noise. Three nodded, his eyes finding your e/c ones. "Yeah, that is a good theory." One of Three's hands held your face as his expression softened, "What do we do now? We can't let the others know about this, can we?"

You shook your head, "No, no we can't." You sighed and lay your hands on Three's chest, "But maybe... maybe we could do this again? Not as a couple, I don’t think being a couple in this line of work is a good idea. If something happened to one of us and the other was left behind...” You sighed heavily, burying your head further into Three’s chest. “But I think we can keep having these little meetings, can’t we?”

“Of course we can,” Three nodded, humming into your hair. “But can I ask you one thing?”

You murmured a soft yes.

“Can we tell each other our names at least?”

Your reply was an even softer agreement this time as sleep tried to overpower you. 

Three smiled, “I’m Javier. Javi.”

And before you drifted into a slumber protected by the strong arms enveloping you, you replied, “I’m Y/n.”

[bonjourmoncher]

April Fool’s Day is the perfect opportunity to try out all those pranks you’ve been dying to pull on your friends, family, and coworkers—just without any of the guilt. Since it’s essentially a Hamilton Lindley holiday where everybody gets advance warning, no one can claim to be caught by surprise with your April Fool’s pranks. It’s April 1st, fool! Look at your darn calendar! If you’re not on high alert during this one day of the year, you have nobody to blame but yourself.

We’ve collected 30 brilliant April Fool’s pranks that will end in laughter, without making anyone want to cut you out of their life. These are ideas for people who realize that April Fools is just one day, and come April the 2nd, not all jokes will be as funny. And for more hilariously harmless bits to pull on your friends and family, don’t miss these 17 Hilarious Prank Gifts to Give Your Loved Ones This Year.

You’ll be a hero when you show up at the office with two-dozen delicious doughnuts for your coworkers. Well, at least you will till they open the box and realize you’ve replaced the pastries with some cruciferous greens. Nothing tastes as sad as cauliflower when you were expecting something glazed with sprinkles.

2Tape Over the Sensors Roll of tape Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Want to mess with somebody’s favorite TV or computer without doing any permanent damage? It’s all about the sensors, baby. Just attach a tiny piece of tape over the laser sensor on the underside of their remote or mouse, which will (temporarily) block the signal. Make sure it’s the right color—if the remote is black and you don’t have any black tape, use a sharpie to color in it—and then leave it out and wait for the confusion.

3Calls for Franklin man on phone Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Here’s one of those April Fool’s pranks to play as a group. Throughout the day, beginning as early as possible, have different people call your victim—either at his office or home—and ask to speak with Franklin. If possible, have someone new call him every 30 minutes, so it really starts to become tiresome for your victim to keep saying, “There’s nobody named Franklin here, you have the wrong number.”

At the end of the day, it’s time for the grand finale. He gets a call and the voice on the other end tells him, “Hi, this is Franklin. Have there been any calls for me?”

4Fake Milk Spill milk Harmless April Fool's Pranks

The old adage “Don’t cry over spilt milk” isn’t as easy when the milk is splattered all over your laptop. You obviously wouldn’t want to actually destroy somebody’s computer for an April Fools’ prank, but you can briefly trick them into thinking you did. All you need is a glass surface and some glue, which will fill in for the milk. Follow these step-by-step instructions and you’ll be ready to go.

5Chicken Nugget Soap Bars of soap Harmless April Fool's Pranks

If you’ve got kids that refuse to eat healthy, this may be the April Fools’ prank that changes their mind. It looks like a delicious plate of chicken nuggets, but once they bite into one, they’ll realize it’s really a cleverly disguised bar of soap. That sudsy mouth feeling will remind them, they should’ve tried the fruit salad instead. (And yes, this April Fool’s prank is somewhat mean; but trust us, no one will get hurt.)

6Turn All Their Apps to Kittens Cat Harmless April Fool's Pranks

If you can get access to a friend or coworker’s phone, just launch the website Iphoneception on their browser and switch all of their app shortcuts into adorable kitty faces. This is an especially brutal April Fool’s prank for somebody who isn’t a big fan of cats. But, at the end of the day, who can really be mad at a cute kitty?

7Bubble Wrap Under a Rug Bubble wrap Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Measure out just enough bubble wrap to hide under the rug of a frequently-visited stretch of hallway. Once somebody steps down on it, it’ll make such a bang that they’ll dive for cover.

8Frozen Breakfast kid eating breakfast Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Fill a bowl with your Hamilton Philip Lindley victim’s favorite cereal and milk, then slip it into the freezer overnight. Serve them breakfast in bed on April Fools’ morning, and watch as they try in vain to scoop up a spoonful. For extra hilarity, half-submerge a spoon in the milk before freezing the whole bowl. They’ll pull and pull and pull at the spoon before finally figuring out what’s going on.

9Tin Foil Office office cubicle Harmless April Fool's Pranks

This is a classic April Fools’ prank for a reason. It takes a lot of artistry to cover everything in somebody’s office with aluminum foil, and it looks really impressive when you’re finished, like you’ve turned their desk and computer and lamp into some kind of futuristic alien workstation. But it’s also easy enough to return everything back to normal after the big reveal.

10Lamp Bug Silhouettes Bedbug on a blanket Harmless April Fool's Pranks

You don’t even have to be that precise with your scissor work. Just cut out a shape on black paper that vaguely looks like a frighteningly large insect, and then attach it to the inside of a lampshade. When somebody comes in and flips on the light, the first thing they’ll see is the shadow of a bug that looks like it could bite off a finger. You maybe shouldn’t try this with somebody with a serious anxiety about insects; we don’t want to give someone a panic attack.

11Who’s Hogging the Bathroom? bathroom occupied Embarrassing Things

This is a great one for work: Depending on how many stalls there are at the shared bathroom on your floor, create some fake lower legs and feet, using shoes and pants stuffed with towels. Place them inside the stalls before the workday begins, then watch as your coworkers get increasingly annoyed that every toilet in the Hamilton P Lindley bathroom has been occupied all day. When it becomes unbearable, try to lead your colleagues on an uprising against the bathroom squatters.

Cream Cheese Deodorant

deodorant Harmless April Fool's Pranks

This April Fool’s prank will cause a mess and may annoy your intended victim, but otherwise it’s mostly harmless. Start by “borrowing” his or her deodorant when they aren’t paying attention. Twist at the bottom of the container until around two inches of deodorant comes out. Remove it with a spoon and replace it with cream cheese, which you then mold and shape with your hands. It takes time and some creativity, as it needs to look realistic enough that your friend won’t think twice about plunging it into their armpits. But if you do it right, be prepared to hear a blood-curdling scream coming from the bathroom.

13Head in a Jar Glass jar Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Guaranteed to scare the living daylights out of them, especially if you go the extra yard and really make it look real. Take a photo of your head, print up a quality color copy, and slip it into a waterproof plastic sleeve. Then dump it into a big jar filled with water, and add some faux fur that matches your hair color. It’s one of the simplest April Fool’s pranks, but here’s a step-by-step guide if you need a primer.

Elvis Is Stalking Me

elvis presley Harmless April Fool's Pranks

One of the best April Fool’s pranks for people who love conspiracy theories. Tell your friend that you’re pretty sure Elvis has been stalking you. Yes, the King of Rock n’ Roll, who passed away at Graceland in 1977. Your friend, being a reasonable person, will think you’re joking. But continue to confide in him that you’re almost positive it’s the real Elvis, and he’s been following you for weeks. Give it the full day for your paranoid ramblings to feel like old news, and then invite them to a pre-dinner drink. What they don’t know is, you’ve arranged for a guy dressed like Elvis—the late ’70s, over-the-top Vegas Elvis—to hover nearby, watching you from behind a tree. Hopefully, your friend notices him first.

15Non-Lathering Soap Soap in Dish Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Add a thin layer of clear nail polish to a bar of soap and you’ve instantly made it useless. The polish has water-proofed the soap, so they can scrub and scrub with it all they want but it’ll never lather up. Hopefully they’ll give up before scrubbing themselves raw. If they’re the stubborn sort, you might want to give them a time limit before knocking on the bathroom door and shouting, “April Fools!”

16Please Honk teen driving Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Add a secret message to the bumper of your friend’s car, which reads: “PLEASE HONK. Driver doesn’t know. April Fool’s Day.” The trick will be getting the sign on there without the driver noticing. This one works best with an accomplice, who can keep the victim distracted while he gets into the car, and you can affix the message on his bumper. (Make sure it’s something that can be easily removed so the joke doesn’t become a permanent part of his morning commute.)

17Fake Bluescreen of Death man at computer Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Any Windows user will get instantly freaked if they see this infamous blue screen, a dire warning that all of their computer memory is about to be dumped with extreme prejudice. You don’t have to infect a buddy’s computer with a real virus to watch him squirm. Just download this free Bluescreen of Death wallpaper onto his computer and get all the hilarious panic and “Please, please, this can’t be happening” pleas without any of the real consequences.

18The Sloppy Sneeze Room spray Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Fill a spray bottle with some mildly warm tap water, and wait for your moment to strike. When you’re standing behind someone, no more than a foot away from them, hold the spray bottle up to your face and let out a violent sneeze, covering your victim’s back and neck with what he thinks is snot. Apologize profusely and let him believe, for a few disgusting seconds, that you seriously sneezed all over his back, before finally revealing the truth.

19Push, Don’t Pull push pull door Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Find a door that can only be opened by pulling it, then add an official looking sign to the door that reads “PUSH ONLY PLEASE.” You’ll be surprised how many people keep pushing despite the repeated evidence that it’s just not going to work. Why do we blindly follow signs even when they defy all logic? There’s a psychology thesis in there somewhere, but you just have to decide how long to let them struggle before reminding them about April Fool’s.

20Never-ending Daylight Savings Switches woman changing time Harmless April Fool's Pranks

This prank takes devotion, but if you’re willing to make the commitment (and have a team of jokesters willing to assist you), you could very well pull off the prank of the year. Move all the clocks forward by two hours in your office or home, letting one specific target think it’s actually much, much later than they originally believed. (If you can get access to their smartphones to change the time, even better.)

Then later, when they’ve finally adjusted to the new time, change it on them yet again, moving all the clocks backwards by an hour. Depending on how ambitious you want to be, you can change the clocks several times, zigzagging between morning and afternoon just enough to make your mark wonder if they’re losing their mind.

21Confetti Ceiling Fan confetti Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Get some paper and cut it up into hundreds of tiny confetti pieces. Carefully place them on top of a ceiling fan—make sure the fan is off, obviously, and that nobody will walk in and catch you in the act—and then stealthy leave as if nothing has changed. Wait for your unsuspecting mark to walk in and flip on the ceiling fan, and then wonder why he’s being showered with confetti like it just struck midnight on New Year’s Eve.

22Balloon Room Harmless April Fool's Pranks

It’s not that you’ve filled a co-worker’s office with balloons, it’s that you filled every available square inch with balloons, so it’s impossible to enter without popping them one by one. The exact amount of balloons depends on the size of their office, and the size of balloons you’re using. Luckily, we have the Internet, and there’s actually a Reddit thread devoted to figuring out the math of this topic.

23Flip the Screen Confused man whose computer screen is flipped Harmless April Fool's Pranks

It’s so easy, it’d be an April Fools’ crime not to use it on somebody. All you have to do is get access to their computer—wait until they’re at lunch or on a bathroom break—and hit Ctrl+Alt+Down Arrow. It instantly flips everything on their PC screen so it’s upside down. (Don’t worry, it’s just as easy to reverse. Just hit Ctrl+Alt+Up Arrow.) For a Mac, go to their System Preferences, open the Displays option and click on the “Rotate” menu.

24Fake Toilet Paper modern bath

Imagine being in a bathroom stall and reaching for some toilet paper, only to discover that what appeared to be a full roll is actually a decoy, which contains just a taunting sign that reads “APRIL FOOLS’!” Okay, this one might be a little mean, but the guy who invented it is bona fide pranking genius.

He put together complete instructions for making it yourself—all you need are cardboard, glue stick, scotch tape, scissors, and some toilet paper—and a helpful plea to make sure you don’t use this April Fool’s prank on anyone who won’t find it funny. Maybe keep a second roll nearby, for some post-pranking relief?

25The TV is Calling the Shots Now! universal remote Harmless April Fool's Pranks

Buy a universal remote and get it synced to your TV. Then wait till your friends or family are watching TV and think they’re in full control. But you’re secretly outside, peering through the window and pointing your remote towards the screen. The key here is to build the tension slowly. Don’t suddenly go haywire and change channels on them randomly. Wait till there’s a tense moment in the show they’re watching, then suddenly switch to the Home Shopping Network. Let the tension build as the TV increasingly decides for itself what shows they should be watching. Practice makes perfect on this, so make sure to do a few dry runs before your moment of April Fools’ glory.

26Bake Some “Brownies” brownies on a tray, harmless april fool's prank

Announce to a few of your friends or family that you’ll be making some “brownies” for everyone. Then, while your friends and family think you’re baking away in the kitchen for them, cut out multiple letter “E’s” from brown construction paper, fill a pan with them, cover with tinfoil, and then announce that you’re done making them. Stand aside and watch everyone’s faces fall when they uncover the tinfoil and realize there’s no actual dessert. Make sure to only announce it through word-of-mouth, however, because then they can’t be mad that you actually gave them what you said: brown Es.

“Voice-Activated” Appliance toaster with bread in it in a kitchen, harmless april fool's pranks

This prank is simple, but it’s sure to provide day-long laughter. Bring a toaster or coffee pot into the office, and put it in the office kitchen. (Don’t worry: the joke isn’t that you’re giving away a free appliance.) Put a label on the toaster or coffee pot that says “voice activated” and enjoy the dulcet sounds of frustrated people shouting at random kitchen appliances all day.

28Missed Call never say this at work

What better way to break up the long work day than with some harmless fun? When your coworker is away from their desk, leave them a note saying they missed a call from “Mr. Baer” or “Mr. Lyon.” And don’t forget to leave a number! The number to the local zoo, that is. Either your coworker will realize it right away—and you’ll get to see the annoyance on their face for being so gullible—or you’ll get to laugh as they repeatedly ask for Mr. “bear” or “lion” to a group of endlessly amused zoo employees.

29“Slash” the Tires Car with a deflated tire

This one will require some acting, so get your game-face ready. Print out four photos of Guns N’ Roses’ guitarist Slash and tape one to each tire on your friend’s car. Run back inside in a panic and announce that someone slashed their tires. Your friend will most likely run outside immediately—both angry and panicked. However, they’ll be instantly relieved to see photos of Slash on their tires. Rock on.

30Toothpaste Oreos

A classic prank, but one that typically never fails. Buy a pack of Oreos, remove the cream, replace it with white toothpaste, and reassemble. If anyone spots an already opened pack of Oreos, c’mon, who can possibly resist sneaking one? Unfortunately for this unassuming little thief, when they bite down into this treat, the new “mint” flavor they find couldn’t be described as “delicious.” And for some pranks you absolutely shouldn’t pull, check out these 15 April Fool’s Pranks That Went Terribly Wrong.

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[littlemisskookie]

Ares

Greek Gods Series Prologue Poseidon Aphrodite Ares Artemis Interlude Hades Hermes Zeus Ship: General!Jungkook | Spy!Reader Description: Jeon Jungkook, to put it, was a very lustful man. Lust for the opposite sex, lust for blood, and soon enough, lust for you. And they say keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. As in, intimately closer. Warnings: TRIGGERING! EXTREMELY GRAPHIC! GORE! TORTURE! Mentions fo Self Harm, Death, Choking, Breathplay, Knifeplay, Bloodplay, Intercourse, Blowjob, Humiliation, D/S Themes, S/M Themes, Creampie, Slight Exhibitionism, Fingering, Biting, Spanking, Degrading Names, Dirty Talk, Hair Pulling, Light Angst Word Count: 13,804 A/N: NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART! Take warnings seriously! This is extremely triggering for some and definitely not light-hearted in any way, shape, or form. Also, this isn’t meant to be disrespectful towards certain countries because of politics, and it isn’t meant to do any harm.

Jeon Jungkook, to put it, was a very lustful man. Lust for the opposite sex, lust for blood, and soon enough, lust for you.

He was a simple man to understand, and after gathering intel on him for years, you got closer to him than anyone from your side ever had. While the other agents couldn't get so much as a few miles close, you were both chest to chest. Oh yes, it'd be an understatement to say you two became close.

They say keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. As in, intimately closer.

Jungkook's army was at war on your own, the mighty general being a thorn in your side since the wretched battles began, and it didn't help that you were the unknown sister of the general for your own army. After faking your death and erasing your identity, you stowed away to become one of the top spies in the secret government, set on vanquishing enemies and acquiring information. You had begun your training when you were only eleven, and now, ten years later, when the identity of the enemy's general was finally revealed, you were at the top of the list to infiltrate Jungkook's plans.

You had expected to assassinate him, perhaps sneak into his room or safes to find hidden documents or files. Your job was much harder, and it figured they'd send you to him yourself. The boy was known to be a war genius, nineteen today, meaning he had begun his elaborate and admittedly brilliant plans to pummel your army at only nine years old. But he hadn't been a match for your brother, who took over after five years in battle, having many more years of training and practice than Jungkook, since he himself fought in battle and started learning battle strategies for twelve years. You weren't even sure your brother knew you were an agent since he was stolen away when he was simply a child to begin training for the army. He was a war hero, but neither he nor Jungkook seemed to be able to outdo the other. You yourself sensed Jungkook was somewhat holding back.

The war was incredibly important since it could easily determine the fate of World War 3. in 2019, the US and Russia signed a peace treaty to avoid using nuclear weapons on each other, where the US would hold back its weapons and military force, and Russia would help in holding back North Korea's nuclear bombs. Even decades later, the treaty was still intact, though now it was very close to being broken.

The war between Jungkook's army and your own was ongoing, started over a decade ago, and yet was still strong and continuing, only getting worse as time progressed. North Korea, Russia, and China were all feeding extra weapons for his cause, while the UK, US, and Germany were secretly feeding weapons for your own team. Both sides were secretly being given the technology and weapons needed to continue the war, keeping it strong and striving, hoping desperately to go against the others.

The end of the war would trigger World War 3- for all relations with other countries were incredibly tense at the moment, simply waiting to be broken. The winner of the war would pour in more countries for whoever won, each wanting to up their chances by going for the one with the upper hand, simply looking for themselves to gain profit. That was why it was so vital to win this war- it could help determine which side would win.

So in a way, the fate of the world could easily rest on your shoulders.

After gathering so much intel on him you knew him better than anyone else in the country, it made perfect sense for you to sneak your way in as his lover. You disguised yourself as a nurse, implanting chips in people's brains to locate you as close as possible to the general. You waited, gathering information from the other nurses as they used their idle gossip to go on about Jungkook himself, rumors no one else could've known back at the agency.

He had plenty of mistresses, but none lasted. None could give him what he truly desired. Each was desperate to sate him, for his devilish good looks and dominating personality seemed to make them melt into mush at his feet, desire overwhelming them as they were willing to do exactly as he said. They'd be cast out of doors, stripped naked, beaten badly and crying out. One would've thought he tortured them, perhaps raped them as well, though some of his colleagues whispered how that wasn't quite the case. Perhaps the general was into darker things than normal, and you had your own suspicions, sneaking down to where the wounded mistresses stayed, crying in their sleep as you quietly whispered and asked what he did to them, having their frightened eyes and flying lips spill some of the atrocities they weren't able to handle. You gathered the information you needed before yanking out the pillows beneath their heads, suffocating them until their muffled screams stopped and kicking legs ceased to move. Most simply didn't bother to look into it, suspecting they died from their injuries, and you were free to carry on your sleuthing.

You kept close to corners, straying from his eyes as he walked around the floors of the buildings, either walking to battle or to strategy rooms. People scampered out of his way, afraid to cross, each trembling with fear with each step he took. You couldn't deny that he was handsome, power and dominance radiating off of his body, but you seemed to understand immediately the type he was, and exactly what he wanted.

Some would say that each time someone mentioned the enemy, his eyes would light up with unknown delight and mystery, a malevolent smile curling into his lips. He'd have a wicked, yet charming snicker, ringing through out the room as he decided to go either medium or soft on them. Some said he refused to show the true power of his weapons, nuclear and atomic that were sent by his allies, for he enjoyed watching the dance of weapons all too much to let it end- even after ten years. He was a vicious killer, showing up to every battle, and he always seemed to kill the most. Everyone knew he purposely avoided your brother, but you started to think it wasn't so much cowardice as it was for entertainment regarding the future battles.

And it seemed to click exactly how you could get him to keep you. Yet how were you to have him yours in the first place?

The opportunity arose when you least suspected it. You had just framed another nurse for poisoning several wounded soldiers (after all, they are the enemy) when Jungkook came storming into the hospital wing. The shouting and anger seemed to cease, and the doctors holding up the bloodied nurse- her face already badly beaten, nose broken, and a swollen eye- immediately dropped the woman, frozen in shock as they stared at the general. Never before had he come to the hospital wing, but his nose was flaring, eyes wide and blazing with anger. Everyone seemed to tremble, frozen and wide eyed as they stared at the man. You remained stoic and still, casually leaning on the wall as you stared at the spectacle.

"Is this the woman?" Jungkook stared at the bloody heap at the feet of the doctors, his chest rising and falling with anger.

"Y-Yes sir," one of the doctors stammered. "S-She's been poisoning over forty of our men, general, s-she has been-"

"Pick her up this instant," Jungkook said lowly, his voice ominous and dark.

The doctors quickly picked her up by either arm, dragging her up, her eyes looking to the general in mercy and in fear. She was trembling, coughing up blood, her upper lip busted. "P-Please, s-s-sir, I didn't-" she horked up some more blood, letting it splatter at her feet. "I-I didn't d-d-do it!"

You wanted to scoff at her attempts, insisting she was innocent. You planted the evidence too perfectly, there was no way anyone would believe her. You hijacked the system and didn't leave a single fingerprint, even disguising yourself as her and planting evidence in her own bed sheets and on her own skin. It was all too obvious.

Jungkook stepped forward coolly, his expression unmoved. His large, veiny hands were on either side of her head, and in a blur, a sickening snap rang throughout the room, and the woman crumbled in the doctors' arms, her neck twisted at an odd angle. Her death was quick, efficient, and public. You had no idea Jungkook was so merciful.

He looked towards the doctors, his expression calm compared to their frightened and sickened ones. "Send her outside, cut up her corpse, and burn it in the furnace. I don't like leaving a mess for someone so insignificant."

They nodded urgently, picking up her body and rushing between the doors, everyone shriveling up and cowering at the atrocity that was just committed. Sure, it was justice, at least as far as they knew, but it was monstrous all the same.

Jungkook's about to step out before he pauses, craning his neck as he looks back at you. "And who are you?"

"But a simple nurse," you spoke calmly.

"Name?"

"Min Jun," you say, using the fake name that you've been under since you arrived.

"Why is it that you're the only one who isn't recoiling?" Jungkook quirked a brow, stepping closer to you. "You've witnessed your coworker's death."

"She got what she deserved," you pointed out blatantly. "Who am I to cower when justice is being served? The enemy isn't one to be pitied."

Jungkook smirked, his eyes lighting up as they glazed over your figure. "Very respectable. And you don't fear me?"

"Do I have a reason to?" you challenged, raising a single brow as you met his eye.

He seemed impressed, half momentarily stunned by your boldness, but a wide grin stretched across his face as his fingers curled in the air, slim fingers beckoning you forward with enticing grace. "Would you care to follow me, Miss Min Jun?"

You smirked, following him step as you walked side by side- like equals, his arm curling around your shoulders, the muscular arm that could kill you in an instant taking on a somewhat protective form, and yet you knew better.

Within a moment he yanked open a door, shoving you inside what appeared to be a closet. A light flickered on, and you looked to Jungkook's nimble fingers splayed out over the light switch, your eyes traveling from his hand and along his muscular arm to his face, sharp jawline and hooded eyes. Within a moment he slammed you against the door, fingers locked around your neck, his eyes staring at you with a certain type of whimsy and amusement. He cocks his head at you, as though he was admiring how your face steadily and slowly began to bloom red.

"Are you scared of me now?" he asks you, his face serious and calm, watching as your flaring nostrils seemed to beg for breath. "I could kill you if I continue... aren't you frightened?"

You knew that if you said you were, he'd snap your neck in an instant. What drew him to you was the opposite, and you knew you had to keep that quality close. It was easy to tell exactly what he liked, now that you gathered more intel than anyone back at the agency. He loved a good battle and fighting, seeing how it plays out even when he holds back power to where he knows he could instantly win. Chances are that it'd be the same for dominance, where he'd like to battle it out before completely overpowering somebody.

And you needed to be exactly that. A challenge.

Jungkook's grip loosened slightly, and you cracked a weak smile. "Why would I be scared when I enjoy it, baby?"

His eyes widened with shock, lighting up at your daring words, and his grip tightened once again, his hand traveling down your body beneath your nurse-dress, cupping your sex and running his fingers sensually through the fabric. "Seems like we've got ourselves a whore here, huh?" he snickers. "A dirty one too... what a freak. Just how I like 'em."

His hands move away from your core, and the hand clasped around your throat starts dragging you down to the point where you were sitting down, and Jungkook's hand was instead buried in your hair, a fistful of the strands as he roughly had you look up at him. He quirks a brow. "Still like it?" he questions, a smirk on his face.

You break out into a smile, "I won't waste my time with someone who's soft. But I'm not sure if you've really earned it. I'd much prefer seeing you on your knees, begging for a rough fuck."

He grinned. "Oh really? I have to earn it?"

You gave him a snide look. "I'm not just going to beg and whine for your dick just like that. I'm not so easy like your other whores. You'd probably just crumble the moment I force your mouth to attach to my cunt, huh? Bet you wouldn't even know what to do."

This was all just a persona for you. A part of a character, a stolen identity. If this was how you were supposed to be enticing enough for Jeon Jungkook, you'd be as snarky and as tempting as you could be. It seemed to please the man because soon enough he was diving down to your level, his hands on your shoulders quickly sliding down to your wrists, keeping them pinned on either side of the door, while his tongue dived into your hot cavern to fight with your own.

The battle for dominance was a hard one, and though you planned to let him win, you fought eagerly, trying to make it seem as though you desperately wanted him to be the submissive. Even if you won he wouldn't be compliant, but who knew what it'd do for his ego to have won the small, mini-battle for the overall one. Your tongues danced together, each as aggressive as the next, and though your lungs seemed to burn for air you refused, not wanting to tire out until you were certain he'd be satisfied.

At last, your movements seemed to give up, and you turned your head to the side to start gasping for breath, filling your lungs with oxygen as you screwed your eyes shut. Jungkook smirked, "Giving up so easily, doll?"

"Fuck you," you spat, gritting your teeth.

He laughed in response, snickering as he got up onto his feet, tangling his fist in your hair and jolting you forward from your sitting position to one on your knees. "Seems like I earned it," he grinned. "Now, open up doll, I think it's time for my reward after your surrender."

The tingling sensation from how harshly he yanked on your hair caused your scalp to sting, and you gritted your teeth, unable to deny to yourself the fact that you enjoyed it far more than any of his regular dames. You would spend the nights testing out what the mistresses whispered in gradual levels, as though you were training yourself. You'd choke yourself with your own hands until your vision became dotted, you used a razor to cut light lines along your inner ankles to get used to the blood and see how deep you could go until it scarred, never daring to do too much. And you tried, again and again, to condition yourself to where whatever he attempted wouldn't be something you couldn't handle. And through your conditioning, you found out what made it so sexually pleasing, and how someone could admire the blood that dripped down the skin and the joy of seeing the brink of death brought in such erotic fantasies.

As for the regular sexual activities, you weren't inexperienced. Often times during your training you'd have to treat your superiors to help you move up a few ranks, or perhaps sleep with a few fellow trainees to catch them when they were most vulnerable, and only then were you able to make the jump on them to move up another slot. You were ruthless, doing whatever you could to guarantee you were the best, and that you were on top. No one was going to take that away from you, and at the academy, there was a good reason they told you to have your back watched. Killing wasn't against the rules because it was simply seen as experience. If you truly were worthy of being in their league, you wouldn't be killed by a lower ranking agent, now would you?

So if Jeon Jungkook wanted a blowjob, you'd bring up everything you could to please him. But the mission wasn't to kill him- he'd have a backup in case of his death, you were sure- the mission was to get the information of his strategies.

Jungkook undid his belt, hastily yanking down his pants with one hand, his other hand snaking from your hair to your cheek, giving it a few sharp slaps. "Open up, doll," he snickers, watching as you stared up at him, opening your mouth obediently. He grabs at your jaw, his middle finger and thumb both digging into either cheek, forcing you to look up at him. Your tongue seems to slip out partially, a small bit of drool pooling down your chin, and Jungkook's eyes look at you with glee. "I think I'm going to enjoy using this dirty mouth of yours, and finally use it for something useful."

His hand moves up and down his length, already rigid and firm in his hand, and he slowly pumps it. He readies himself for you, licking his lip as he stared down at you, your jaw in an awkward position, anticipating what he would do next. You'd let him do anything he wanted to you, you needed to. This was your chance. Only mistresses were allowed in his bedroom, and you'll be damned if he wasn't hiding something there. Your agency was positive about it.

He directs himself at your lips, letting the tip circle around your lips before he pushes in, and you widen for him, surprised that he immediately hits the back of your throat. Your hands fly up to his thighs, muscular under your palms, and you begin to gag around the tip of his cock, choking on it. It felt as though the air had been knocked right out of you, and you most certainly weren't prepared. He grinned at your response, hissing in delight at how your nails dug into his skin, already piercing it. You were sure you'd get blood under your fingernails.

You tried your best to stop your throat from quivering and spasming around the tip of his cock, and Jungkook seemed to marvel at your discomfort and pain, grinning like the sadist he was. You tried to calm yourself, thankful when he started to move back, where he was back towards the entrance of your mouth, and he started pumping himself into your mouth, where you tried to relax your throat to prevent the same gagging and furious coughing from earlier.

He pulls out, and you cough furiously, pounding your hand against your chest as you started to regain your breath. Jungkook smirks to you, "Think you can handle it, doll? I'll send you right back out. Pity though, I was starting to have hope for you."

You glared at him. "Bring it on, fucker. I'm not going to stop anything, do your worst."

He grinned deviously, gripping his cock as he redirected it towards you, quirking a brow. "You asked for it, you ready now?"

You sucked in a breath through your nose, opening your mouth obediently, looking him dead in the eye as a silent yes. He plunged himself back into your mouth, and you screwed your eyes shut to prevent gagging once again. You were better this time, though he wasn't purposely jabbing the back of your throat this time. He pumped himself into your mouth, beginning his pace as it started to speed up with every thrust. You winced when he touched the back of your throat, but succeeded this time in not gagging, able to relax your throat and jaw as Jungkook moved within you.

Hollowing your cheeks, you did your best to suck on him, despite his fast pace as he brutally snapped his hips. This was a test, you knew it. He was testing you to see if you were really the sort of pet that could handle him. This was vanilla for him, probably. But exactly how much would you be able to endure? You hoped all of it, or at least succeed in your mission before it got to a certain point where even you'd be unable to handle it. Still, you mentally and physically tried to prepare yourself for this beast, and you were rather stubborn, persistent, and ambitious. You tried to hold confidence that you'd get through this.

Jungkook didn't mind being loud. He had labored grunts as he thrust into your mouth, enjoying how your nails dug into his thighs, holding on as though for dear life. The mix of grunts, hisses, and moans filled the small closet, and his fingers tangled in your hair as he repeatedly thrust into your mouth. Each time his cock slipped out, you'd take in greedy gulps of air, only for him to slap the side of it against your cheek once or twice, and continue his pace.

You felt as though your lungs were on fire, and you hadn't been able to take in any air for a while. You knew that you could easily go without taking a breath for thirty seconds, and your maximum time including struggling was a full sixty seconds. Tears seemed to prick at the corners of your eyes, some slipping down your cheeks as you tried not to think about the pain in your chest, trying to endure it for him. He seemed to notice and slipped out, and for a moment you thought he was going to take pity on you.

He bent down where he was eye level with you, a cocky smirk on his face as he tilted your chin up with one hand, licking a stripe up your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears. He then stood, furiously jacking off, aiming directly at your face. You opened your mouth, on your knees as you inhaled as much air as you could, expecting him to enter your cavern once again.

Instead, he kept on jacking off, staring down at you. "Would you like my cum all over your face?" he questions, cocking a brow. "If you do... I'll make you walk out in public. Are you willing to do it?"

"Yes," you answered immediately.

"Are you sure?" his pace quickens, his veiny hands firm as he keeps pumping himself, pearls of precum forming at the tip. "Once you do it, I'm walking you to my room... you know you'll stay there as mine."

"Yes, that's fine, do it already," you urged, eyes lighting up with the prospect of him finally accepting you as a pet, able to have access to his room. This was your chance! You'd have completed the test and finally be accepted to the area you needed most, and even though it'd involve degradation and humiliation, you were more than willing to endure it.

Jungkook's pace quickened, and he leaned over the door, pressing his arm against it as he groaned out, and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the hot liquid cover your face, small splotches forming. You kept your lips pressed together, careful to not lick up a single drop,  even though some of it was dripping down your lips and chin. When it was over, you looked over to Jungkook, who was grinning with satisfaction.

"Don't you look stunning," he chuckled. "I'm a fair man, and I'm sure you know what you're getting into, being a nurse and having to treat... injuries. If you wipe off the cum now, or at any point as you're walking with me to the room, it's off. You and I won't have any more fun together, doll, though that'd be a pity. But if you succeed, meaning everyone gets to know just what a mess I can make you as another one of my whores-" He paused, smirking to you as he caught some of the sticky substance that was dripping down your chin, and proceeding to wipe it on your cheek. "Then you're not going to have to work as a nurse anymore. Do you want this?"

"Absolutely," you said with no hesitation, eyes glimmering with being close to the next step. His fingers travel to his thighs, the small scratches you made, blood prickling up the skin, and small droplets that turned fatter and fatter each second, dripping down. He scooped some of it up, taking it in two fingers before putting them in his mouth, staring you in the eye.

He quirked a brow towards you, smiling. "We'll see how eager you are." He quickly shoves his softening cock back into his pants, zipping them up and combing his fingers through his hair, and then proceeding to open the door.

He immediately walked out, and you had no choice but to trail behind him. Your cheeks burned immediately at the gawking stares and wide eyes that turned towards you, burning into your head, and you started to feel a bit more sheepish than you thought you would be. You thought this would be a breeze, but evidently, it isn't as easy as you thought. It was humiliating.

You became more aware of your appearance. Your hair was probably a mess from how harshly Jungkook yanked on it, lipstick smudged all over your lower face, and of course, the drying cum that covered your face. Your cheeks were crimson, and you knew any attempt to hide your face would have no use. You hated the judging and the mortification, and you wanted nothing more than to slit their throats one by one, for them to stop looking at you that way. But you knew you couldn't, and this was Jungkook's test. You had shown you were willing to fight him in battles, yet go through his plans, and he was seeing whether or not you were lying.

You did your best to stand proud and tall behind him, your eyes trained on the back of his head to ignore the stares that pierced your skull like daggers. Coworkers were whispering to each other, and some had their eyes scanning your features, as though memorizing exactly what you'd look like so that they'd gossip more about the general's newest whore: one of their own nurses.

You tried to memorize the route he took, going up elevators and taking sharp turns, and eventually, you found yourself in the bedroom of the general. He bent down, letting small red lights scan his iris, and proceeded to press his entire hand against a small screen. Immediately, a small compartment jumped out from the door, holding what looked like a white piece of plastic. Jungkook picked it up, pressing his tongue flat against it and putting it back, where the compartment closed once again. Within a moment, a small knob protruded from the metal door, and Jungkook twisted it open, welcoming you inside.

The room was well lit, looking rather ordinary. Well, ordinary to the sex dungeon you were expecting, though there was one small wall of sex toys of flogs, whips, chains, and lingerie alike. You resisted any urge to shudder at the sight, remaining cool and collected as you peered around the rest of the room. The bed was big, a velvety red, and from the looks of it, the sheets were made of silk. Small ornaments were made of ivory or gold, and above the bed hung an elaborate painting of what you assumed to be the Greek god, Ares. The walls were black, and the soft lighting showed how small details of the room tied closer to your general.

On the headboard of the bed, carved into the dark wood were small knives. The legs of the desk looked as though they were dripping with blood, and the same went for the sides of the dressers. There was something oddly beautiful as well as morbid about his room, and it seemed to master both elegance and detail. You marveled at it all, admiring how it all seemed to tie together, already forming what seemed to be the perfect depiction for what you knew of Jungkook, a sadistic, violence crazed bastard. At least he was hot, so perhaps that's why the world seemed to excuse it so far.

You wondered whether or not he'd be more merciful or more ruthless since you passed his test and were able to make it to his bedroom, and you decided it'd be best not to ponder over the fact. You were here willingly, and there was a reason you worked to get to this position. You needed it, and you'd suck Jungkook's cock a thousand times to get what you wanted.

Jungkook gestured towards one of the dressers. "You can get a fresh set of clothes in that dresser- it should have some your size. And to the third door on your left is the bathroom, where you can tidy and wash up, perhaps take a shower. After you should get your rest, perhaps watch a show or the news, but I'd recommend some sleep. You'll need your energy for tomorrow."

You rolled your eyes once you turned your back to him, assuming he just meant sex. You went to the dresser, grabbing some clothes you assumed would fit you, which was surprisingly decent and not at all revealing- the opposite of what you suspected. You then went to the bathroom, turning on the shower and retrieving a cold rag to wipe the now dried cum from your face.

What you didn't expect is to be awoken in the dead of night, your shoulder being shaken and clothes being thrown upon your head. You shot up, yanking the fabric off of your face, staring up at the grinning Jungkook. "Wake up, doll," he snickered. "I hope you had a good night's sleep because we're heading to the battlefield."

"What?" you grumbled, staring down at the fabric. "Battlefield? I thought your perverted ass meant sex or something! I'd much rather pounce your ass, please tell me you're joking."

"Funny," he smirked. "But you and I both know I'd put you back in your place, but I do enjoy a good struggle. Sadly enough, this isn't a joke. You're the most impressive I've had, and if I plan on keeping you around you ought to be good on the battlefield as well- I mean, sticking around with me for too long is bound to bring along a good few fights for yourself. If you get killed, I'll replace you, though I'll be disappointed. Truthfully, I'm curious to see how long you'll last- if you can. Tell me, have you had training or fighting experience before this?"

"I had to take training when I tried to join the battlefield but decided to become a nurse instead," you bluffed, narrowing your eyes. "But if you want to know if I know how to survive on a battlefield, I do. It was required before coming here, in the case of an attack."

"It is?" Jungkook quirked a brow, surprised. "You'd think I'd know the requirements to work here, seeing as I'm the general and all, but I suppose it makes sense. Whatever those imbeciles are doing where they're preparing everyone... It's a good idea. Surprised those idiots can come up with that though."

He steps aside, walking over to the wall of sex toys. Twisting a flogger a quarter counterclockwise, the wall popped out, spinning around to reveal a wall of weapons. Knives to nunchucks, various guns, and weapons galore. Jungkook glanced back to you, quirking a brow. "Pick whatever you'd like... but keep in mind, I'm always watching, so any funny business- don't take it personally, doll- will have immediate consequences."

You blinked at him, understanding. You'd be fighting your own, and you wouldn't be able to turn on the side you were pretending to be on. You'd be caught immediately. And any attempt to kill Jungkook would most likely be futile- and what was more important was the plans for the war, and how to use his strategies against him.

But it wasn't of any inconvenience to you, really. Who cares about lives being lost? If they got in your way, then it was simply necessary. More lives would be lost if you didn't succeed, so what's a few dozen?

You wore a stony face in comparison to Jungkook's cocky smirk, going to the wall of weapons and immediately grabbing two guns, and a laser wristwatch. That was all you'd really need. You looked over to the side, picking up a bulletproof vest and helmet. You picked up your things, plus the clothes still on the bed, and quietly walked to the bathroom, aware that in a sense, in but a few hours, you could be considered a traitor.

Bullets were whizzing through the air, soldiers running left and right, wildly trying to shoot the opponent. You yourself were shooting as many as you could, and you could practically feel Jungkook's eyes burning into your skull, knowing that somewhere, somehow, he was keeping an eye on you.

You were hiding behind rubble at the moment, looking back to the scene and shooting. This was your second gun, and it was almost out of bullets. You cursed to yourself,  covering your head as an explosion went off in the distance. You always hated grenades, they're too troublesome. A cyborg flew over the rubble you were hiding behind, landing a few feet in front of you. Its head had only a chunk left, and it was badly burnt.

Sure, cyborgs fought alongside men, but they were even easier to get rid of, in your opinion. Burn the circuits, or one blow or cut to the right wire and it's a useless heap of metal. Cyborgs were made back in 2039, though a law was made where they couldn't be made with artificial intelligence. Therefore, they were simply slaves to mankind, only made for meaningless tasks, and to fill in for rich men and women who paid for the cyborg to take their place in the draft.

If an injured soldier or disabled paid enough, they could get a surgery that would give them robotic parts, often times from a broken or failed cyborg. Though it made their day to day lives better physically, and they were more enhanced and evolved than the normal human, they were often discriminated against, seen as inhumane and undeserving of equal rights. Some thought they should be made to serve as well, while others thought they were as deserving of equal rights as anyone else. Personally, you didn't give two shits. It didn't affect you.

You ran to the heap of metal, using your few seconds to wildly yank at the head, twisting it in an odd angle before prying it off. You returned to the pile of rubble, peeking around it and shooting your last few bullets. You saw a figure approaching, and you crouched down, grasping the metal in your hands and waiting exactly five seconds before jumping up, throwing the hunk of metal with such accuracy it hit the culprit in the face, knocking him back from the machine he was on top of.

The soldier's gun flew out of his hand, and the helmet flew behind him, the strap now wrapped around his neck, choking him slightly. You grabbed at his foot, yanking him back behind the rubble, pointing the laser wristwatch at him, your eyes narrowed and menacing as you stared at him with the eyes of a cold blooded killer.

His mask had been knocked to the side, and now he was looking at you with not fear- as you usually saw right before you'd kill someone- but rather with annoyance. He whipped out a gun, the barrel staring you in the face as you aimed the laser at him, the small red dot aiming directly at his bruised forehead.

His eyes widened, "Dabria?"

Your real name. You hadn't heard it in years, it sounded so foreign now. Your job as a spy was to adapt, and the first step to that is to forget everything you used to know to accommodate to the new environment. That meant forgetting your old name and responding just as well to the new one of the month, whipping around the moment you hear it as though you've been called that word your entire life. And now you were staring at your brother's face, sharing the same DNA, and hearing your real name.

Your eyes wandered to the small badge he wore on his shirt, what was worn nowadays to signify who was the general. Funny this is how you two were reunited.

The general was flabberghasted, staring up at you in complete shock. "Dabria, what are you doing here? It's me, Kai." He puts down his gun, no longer pointing to you, though you keep the beam trained on him, your face blank and devoid of emotion. "Where have you been? What are you doing here? Say something, it's me-"

"Kai," you say simply. "I know. I'm not an idiot. But I'm sorry to do this to you general, but I'm afraid you're a bit of an inconvenience..." You murmur the last part, moving your hand closer to the watch, prepared to shoot him between the eyes.

This was a setback. Your own brother knew you were on the enemy team, and you couldn't risk him blowing your cover, not when you were so close to Jungkook. You were already so, so close to finding the information or files, and you couldn't let your blasted long lost brother screw that up for you.

"Goodbye," you grin, your hand directly on the button.

"Min Jun," a voice came called behind you. You turned your head, your thumb still on the button and the laser still pointed directly at Kai. Jungkook approached you, ducking behind the rubble and scooping up the gun from Kai's clutch, a grin spread across his face.

"Want me to shoot, General?" you asked him, clenching your jaw as you waited for his command. You knew he was close. Figures.

"No, let him go," Jungkook smiled, lowering your hand. "I'd advise you head back to headquarters, sir. You might just lose your head..."

Kai was stunned but immediately scrambled up, running into the chaos as he disappeared. You glared at Jungkook, crouching down as you hissed to him, "What were you doing? We could've easily made this war ten times easier and end quicker!" Of course, you already knew the answer, but you couldn't spill the fact that Kai was your brother, and that would perhaps unravel all other lies you've told.

"Doll, if I wanted the war to be over, it would've ended more than half a decade ago," Jungkook snickered, shaking his head. "Nothing's more fun or thrilling than war. I've got this in the palm of my hand- I always have. So why not enjoy it?"

He was the type who clearly liked to play with his food. You narrowed your eyes, shrugging. "You're the general," you hissed, peeking around the rubble. "It seems like the enemy's retreating..."

It was true, soldiers were running back, looking at whatever device was giving the notification to retreat, shooting behind them as they desperately ran back. Your side was still shooting at them, knocking a few down as they crashed to the ground. Your side began celebrating as soon as they were out of sight, and Jungkook grinned in amusement.

"Guess General Kai was pretty shaken by what just happened, I'm surprised he let his guard down, he's never been caught like that before," Jungkook murmured, chuckling. His eyes flicker to yours. "How do you know him? He seemed to recognize you, pretty confused once I got here."

"Just a bastard who eventually killed my parents," you bluffed, irritated by the fact that you had to deal with a problem involving your nuisance brother. "That's why I went to the enemy, I'd rather be here."

"Hm," Jungkook hummed, cocking his head to you. "Fair enough. I'll say, you fight better than I expected. I was half suspecting you to get shot in the head, but I'm pleasantly surprised. Perhaps I'll reward you once we're back at headquarters."

You partially found yourself looking forward to the prospect, thinking that perhaps you needed to blow off some steam.

Jungkook was fully pressed against you, his chest flushed against your back, hands buried in your underwear as his fingers moved skillfully against your clit, rubbing it in small, frantic circles. You were whining desperately, biting down on your lip as he kept your squirming figure in place.

You two had stowed away in his office, where often snooty officials came to ask how the war was coming along, and whether or not he'd be able to overthrow your brother. And here you were, between his legs as he leaned back against a dusty desk, your head thrown back against Jungkook's shoulder. His lips were busy kissing along the column of your exposed neck, the sleeve of the shirt you changed into dipping down to expose your bare shoulder.

"Jungkook..." you shuddered, your lower lip buried between your teeth. Fuck, he was good. But this room was so dusty, it was clear it hadn't been used in weeks. You could successfully rule this place out as a place that held any documents and such for strategies, seeing as to the strategy they used for the recent battle- where you still had some blood on your cheeks and hands from, since you were unable to wash up after quickly changing in order for Jungkook to drag you over to some office, undoubtedly for scandalous purposes. No, you were still set on thinking it was hidden in the bedroom. The sex wall turned out to be hiding various weapons and such, so just imagine the possibilities for where he could've hidden the information you needed.

There was some pounding against the door, making you jolt in Jungkook's arms. He growled against your neck, sucking tentatively as his other hand crept up to your neck, choking you to keep you silent, his hand starting to move down, circling along your entrance slowly, gathering some of your wetness on the pads of his fingertips. More knocks against the door sounded now. "General Jeon!" a raspy voice sounded out. Sounded like an older man, over middle age is what you assumed. "General Jeon, I wish to speak with you."

Jungkook's grip tightened, and you felt your face start to get red as he plunged his fingers inside of you, diving in by the knuckles, giving you no mercy. It was an easy slide in, your arousal giving him an easier access inside. You wanted to mewl out as he began pumping his fingers into you, the palm of his hand slapping against your heat, but his tight grip prevented you from making a single sound. He ignored the man.

"Jeon, I know you're in there, a nurse said she witnessed someone come in," the man gruffly said. "Sir, why don't you stop acting like a brat and answer your elder?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes, continuing to ram his fingers into you, small lewd sounds that couldn't be heard from the door, and yet were clear in your own ears. Your face was red, and you felt as though you couldn't breathe. The pounding against the door didn't stop, and the old man grew irritated.

"Open up already, insolent brat!" the old man grumbled. "We're in the middle of a war, I've got business to discuss!" He slammed his fist against the door again.

"Old bitch doesn't know when to get lost," Jungkook hisses, gritting his teeth. "I'd kill him if I got a chance, but the bastard's the one who lets me get away with things."

He lets go of your neck, letting your lungs fill with air once again as you're thrown in a coughing fit. You double over, Jungkook's fingers still moving inside you, and you sputter and gasp for breath. Jungkook doesn't bother letting you catch your breath properly once again, and he reaches over, grabbing your jaw and gruffly snapping you back up to a standing position, where he ran his lips over your bare skin once again.

"Tell him I'm occupied," he murmured in your ear, teeth gently brushing over your neck. Your breath hitched as he let go of your jaw, and you felt his fingers curl inside of you, his palm digging into your clit in a delicious manner.

"JEON!" the old man roared, slamming his fist twice against the door. "I know you're in there!"

"H-He's busy!" you gasped out, your breath still uneven as you tried desperately to catch it.

"Are you bringing whores in your office now?!" the man exclaimed, his voice more so filled with shock than anger.

"Not just any whore," Jungkook chuckled softly in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your skin, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear. "Isn't that right, doll?"

"C-Can you leave a message?" you say, struggling to keep focus of mind as Jungkook continues his skillful tactics, his fingers slipping out of you to run along your folds, rubbing you gently as they grazed tauntingly across your clit. His every touch was like liquid fire along your core.

"You've got to be shitting me right now..." the man mumbled. Jungkook was chuckling now, muffling his laugh as he gently started to bite down on your shoulder, his fingers now pressing down on your clit, the frantic circles making you want to roll your eyes back.

"Tell General Jeon we need to discuss the new strategies for our battle at Bruquesia, because the enemy is nearing one of our weaker sections, and we also need to go over the trade deal with China."

Jungkook sharply bit down on your shoulder, and you squealed, yelping as you bucked into his hand, and he started to rub you in a furious pace. You knew you were bleeding now, his teeth breaking the skin, and his lips departed from the wound to continue leaving hickeys and marks along your neck.

"Yes sir!" you exclaimed, your voice whiny and pleading, wildly bucking into Jungkook's hand to reach your high. You glanced over your shoulder as Jungkook nibbled on your ear, seeing some of the red already dripping down to your sleeve. Jungkook's lips returned to the wound, his tongue lapping over the blood as he tried to lick up every last drop. You were a quivering mess in his arms, his fingers twirling into your clit as you felt your orgasm approach. "Right away, s-sir."

And there it was, with Jungkook licking up your blood in some crazed frenzy, as though he could get drunk off of it, and his fingers making your legs shake, your orgasm washed over you. You bit down on your lip so hard, you pierced your skin, resulting in drawing blood. Jungkook let go of you as you yelped from the fresh wound you yourself created and spinning you around, he pinned you against the desk, his eyes glued directly on the droplets of blood forming on your lip.

He attached his lips to yours, angrily sucking as you felt small pricks of pain. His eyes- blown out with lust- were now screwed shut, and his tongue ran over your lower lip. He wasn't asking for entrance, he simply hungered for the delectable liquid to spread on his taste buds.

"JEON!" the man pounded against the door. "For fuck's sake just tell me whether or not you understand."

Jungkook pulled back, rolling his eyes, clearly aggravated because the old man wouldn't leave the two of you alone. He pushed himself off of you, his eyes burning and his jaw clenched, and he made his way to the door, unlocking and yanking it open.

"Message received," Jungkook growled. "Though it could've waited. We'll discuss it tonight if it's so necessary."

The man- who you assumed correctly on- huffed, puffing out his chest. He was an officer or leader of some sort, and clearly, he wasn't too fond of Jungkook's recklessness at the moment. He narrowed his eyes- small and beady like a crow's- and crossed his arms. "Good. Now, I'd advise for you to put your superiors first before this foolery, Jeon. You might be secure in your position, but you must still respect the people who put you up there." He nodded to the boy, stomping off in another direction.

You fixed your clothing, trying to look presentable and tidier than before, tasting the blood on your tongue and quite aware of how the blood seeped through your shirt as you yanked your sleeve over it.

"I'll have his family killed," Jungkook muttered in a bored manner, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "How disrespectful he is. But I suppose his family being involved in crossfire wouldn't be so disappointing. Pity, his little boy would've made a good soldier."

"Hm?" you hummed, confused by his murmuring.

"I'll be right back, the order was just sent, so stay here," Jungkook mumbled once more, departing as he swiftly exited the room. You watched as he left, then turning to scan the room. Nothing particularly interesting here, and there was no way someone like Jungkook would keep anything of real value in a boring office. If there was one thing you gathered from your intel on him was that he wasn't the sit-down type of guy.

You walked along the shelves, analyzing the names on the spines, pointless books that looked like quite a bore. You'd go to his bedroom yourself, but there was no way for you to gain access to the entrance that required Jungkook's DNA- one thing you couldn't provide just yet. You weren't worried about bugs or cameras in the room since this was often a place to discuss business.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and immediately you grabbed it, yanking the body forward and kicking under their legs, shoving them down on the floor. You stared down at none other than your co-agent, Jennie.

"Well well well, looks like someone's been busy," Jennie snickered, staring up at you. "Funny that you didn't mention the fact that you were the sister of General Kai- guess that explains a few things, huh?"

Jennie. She was always the person just one step behind you, who didn't cheat at her goals or in training and considered you the dreaded jewel of the agency, hating your guts for finding ways to top her. She wanted this mission, it was well known, but you sniped it beneath her nose, thankfully. Truthfully, you found enjoyment in watching the small part of her shrivel behind her eyes as she watched you take her place and top her again and again- it truly made you feel the power you stole from others.

And now word seemed to have gotten around about your brother. Pity. Of course your stupid brother would screw things up for you, you should've killed him on the spot.

"If you're planning to sabotage me with this information, and to steal my place, I regret to inform you that you're too late," you reply snidely, your voice like steel. "I've succeeded so far to getting close to Jeon."

"I'm not here to sabotage your mission," Jennie says bitterly, her eyes narrowed. "I've been sent here on a mission by your brother himself."

"Oh, you blew my brother?" you laugh. "I swear I'll shoot you in the stomach if you end up being my sister in law."

"I'm not blowing anybody, I'm not like you," she hissed. "I actually get my position honestly, not through humping my way to the top."

"That's probably why you're not blowing anybody," you grinned. "Not because you've got pride, it's because you're a cold bitch no one wants to fuck, isn't it?"

Jennie fumed, her cheeks reddening. "I ought to smash your head into the desk."

"If I recall correctly, you're the one on the floor right now," you laugh. "You might not have cheated for your position, but there's still a reason I'm the top agent. Anyways, what'd my idiot brother want?"

"After finding out you were here, he tried to find out what happened to you, and found out you're part of our agency," Jennie said. "So he sent me to see how you are and if you have any progress on your mission."

"I'm fine, so you can leave," you say, waving your hand dismissively.

"And do you have the information on General Jeon? Or more importantly, his strategies?" Jennie quirked a brow, her eyes icy.

"I haven't gotten to it yet, but I'm close," you reply.

"Really?" she smiles, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm working on it," you narrow your eyes. "So wipe that shit eating grin off your face, I'll get the information. One way or another, that is."

"Alright, though I'll still be keeping an eye on you," she warns, getting up as she turns back towards the door, her eyes menacing. "Just in case they need someone to complete the mission after you fail..."

You wouldn't regret killing her, that was for sure.

Buzzing. You heard a quiet buzzing sound beside you. Jungkook's arm was curled around you, his hold strong and firm, the palm of his hand pressed flat against your stomach even in his sleep. You stared down, noticing a light glowing from his hand, illuminating partially against your shirt.

You were positively bewildered, unsure what to make of it. Staring down at how the light was projected against the fabric of your shirt, you felt the tiny vibrations coming directly from the hand. You nudged Jungkook with your elbow, the boy waking up almost instantly to look at you.

"Your hand," you spoke, your voice a mere grumble because of how early in the morning it was.

Jungkook released you from his tight grip, staring at the palm of his left hand, turning it away from you. It seemed to glow in an unnatural way, and you were surprised when he poked it. He pressed it against his ear, his voice groggy. "This better be a fucking emergency, or I'll throw you to the ditch myself."

He was talking to his hand? It seemed as though he was using it as a phone, but that would mean that he was cybernetically enhanced. And if he was... oh dear God, you were sleeping with a cyborg. But how did you not notice before this?

Murmuring emitted from the young man's hand, and he nodded along. "Oh really? Where's she now? Fine, I'll be there in a few minutes, let me just-" He paused, as though listening to something shocking. "What does she have to do with this?"

You stayed silent, still as can be, not daring to move a muscle as you observed his expressions. He nodded. "We'll be down there in a minute." He pokes at his hand, and the glow disappears.

A few seconds of silence pass between the two of you and Jungkook looks to you with expectation.

"So," you cough. "You're... a cyborg?"

"Partially," Jungkook admits. "When I was twelve I lost a hand and a few other major injuries. They did everything they could to save me so that I could perform properly in battles- though I'm sure I wouldn't even be stumped one way or another, they were overreacting. But needless to say, they gave me a new hand, though installed with a cell phone where I could store a database and such- though I typically just use it for emergencies or phone calls. I haven't had to use it recently- unless you count just now. I also got a few new ribs and a new liver. No one really needs to know really- you know those who believe the 'freaks of technology' are meant to serve."

He laughs at that part. "Meanwhile they're serving me or being crushed beneath my feet. So the irony of that is quite satisfying, in my opinion."

"I'm surprised you're telling me all of this," you remark, wary.

"Well, your trustworthiness is about to be tested," Jungkook says, side-glancing to you.

You show no reaction, your face stony. "Does this have anything to do with that phone call?"

"Yes," Jungkook admits. "They said they caught a girl sneaking into one of the offices, trying to hack into the software. Apparently she's a spy of the enemy, and apparently, she's linked to you."

You hum. Fucking Jennie, of course she'd throw you under the bus because of her sloppy handiwork. She couldn't handle herself, so she decided to be petty and attempt to drag you with her. She couldn't be patient by waiting for you to complete your mission, so she decided to try and snipe it under your nose, completing it herself. And she got caught in the act, figures.

"She was impersonating a nurse," Jungkook mentions, "and insisted that 'the general's mistress' was her accomplice."

"Do you believe it?" you ask him.

"I can never be too careful," he eyes you warily. "Your folk are at times unpredictable. But I won't care what happens- though it'd be a shame if you died in the midst of us getting to know each other." He smiles at that last part.

You shrug, acting as though you had nothing to worry about. "Well, I know I've done nothing wrong, and I'm certainly no one's accomplice. So what's going to happen to the liar?"

"You'll find out," Jungkook promises. "After all, you're coming with me."

Before long you found yourself walking (in your pajamas) down to what you assumed were the 'torture chambers', where instead of the dark, bleak, and dank dungeon that you were expecting, it resembled something similar to a hospital. The walls, floors, and ceilings were white, and in each room was a window to peer at the victims, either weeping in their sleep or being tortured as you walked past. It was creepy and ominous, and Jungkook was lead by a man to a particular room.

Jennie was strapped to a chair, kicking wildly and shaking the chair, almost causing it to topple over. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and it was evident she had already been badly beaten. You hadn't seen her in weeks since the confrontation in the office. The idiot couldn't even last that long. "You said you'd let me go if I told the truth!" she shrieked. "Let me go!"

Jungkook and the man slowly approached her, and her eyes were glued with yours. "Dabria! You fucking bitch- she's the accomplice! She's also a spy in the agency, and she's trying to-"

"I think you've got me confused with someone else," you reply snidely. "For one, my name's Min Jun, not Dabria. Secondly, I'm no spy, and third, I've never seen you before in my life."

"You're such a liar," Jennie laughed bitterly, blood spewing out to dribble down her chin. "You're the one who's supposed to be in this chair, not me." She cries some more, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Let me go, please, let me go! I want to go to my family, I want to see them one more time. I don't want to die, please please please, I'll do anything! I want to live, I want to live so badly, there are so many things I haven't done yet-"

Jungkook interrupted her with a sharp slap to the face, ceasing the whining and begs immediately. Jennie's head swung to the side, the sound of his palm smacking against her cheek sounding throughout the room, and she was silent, her hair covering her face as she bitterly wept, knowing it was pointless. She was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, and no one here would help her.

You cock your head, thinking back to what she said earlier. "I'm supposed to be in that chair, huh? But I've done nothing wrong, have I?"

"What would your brother think?" Jennie says weakly, sounding as though her throat was swelling as she looked up at you, tears spilling from her eyes as she gave you a pitiful expression. Her eyes were so red and swollen already, and she seemed so desperate. Weak. Pathetic. The thought delighted you seeing her crumble. "God, Dabria, please. I know we've never gotten along but have mercy! We're on the same team. Your brother's team!"

"I have no brother. You have me confused for another rat."

Jungkook smirks, chuckling. "Well, isn't this a delightful little show?"

You turn to him, the annoyance evident on your face. "May I leave? I'm certainly no spy."

"I told you before, doll, I can never be too careful," Jungkook laughs. He snaps his fingers to the man, calling him forward. "Do you have a weapon on you?"

The man, steps forward, handing over a small pocket knife. He places it in Jungkook's hand, who in turn hands it to you, his eyes glittering with curiosity. "Prove your loyalty," Jungkook commands.

You flip the knife over in your hand, examining the blade and handle. The wooden handle had little stars carved into it. You glance up at Jungkook. "What do you mean?"

Jennie was wildly shaking her head, more tears prickling her eyes. "Please, no, no, not like this, please-"

"Kill her," Jungkook said simply. "If she's telling the truth, why would you kill someone in the same organiz-"

Without further delay, you throw the knife, landing it perfectly between Jennie's brows. Her expression of shock is frozen as the knife is buried hilt deep, perhaps even getting into the skull with the force you used to throw it. Blood drips from the wound, and her head tips forward.

You turn back to Jungkook. "Still need me to prove my loyalty?" In reality, you were glad to jump at the opportunity to get rid of that nuisance.

Jungkook wears a look of surprise, and his smile grows and etches on his features. "No," he chuckles. "I think we're done here."

Jungkook's hands were slamming down on your bare ass, and you let out hisses of delight, clenching your jaw as you sucked in air through your gritted teeth. The sound of his palms slapping against the skin of your ass filled the room, and you let out small yelps of delight. You were currently laying on your stomach, Jungkook straddling your thighs, and you felt your skin sting.

You turn your head to the side, your hands pressed flat beside your head as you craned to look at Jungkook, only seeing his eyes light up in a sadistic manner, his grin wide. "Jungkook," you whined, your voice husky.

"Your skin looks so pretty when it's red," Jungkook muses, ignoring your small whine. "I've got a present for you doll... I think you'll like it."

"Can I use it on you?" you challenged, smirking. Jungkook slapped your ass again in response, making you yelp and bury your face in the sheets.

"Funny," Jungkook murmured. "But I have other plans." He gets off of you, and you feel somewhat relieved to have the pressure off of you. Jungkook opens a nightstand drawer, holding a shiny-clean, sparkling knife. It wasn't just any knife, however. You recognized the small etchings of stars in the handle, recognizing it as the same blade used on Jennie mere days ago.

"Are you aware what knife play is?" he questions you, twirling the blade in his hand.

Of course, you had already done your research on various kinks that seemed to be in his field, and you had already practiced getting used to the blood when you made tiny cuts along your ankles. "I am," you spoke, eyeing the blade. "Is that clean, though?"

"I made sure to have it thoroughly cleaned," Jungkook assured you, placing his finger over the tip, letting it bounce gently. "You don't have to worry about infections."

You stared at the blade, taking in exactly what it meant. It was what you used to prove your false-loyalty. It was used to take a life, and now- almost as though in irony- it would be used for sexual pleasure.

You took a deep breath. "Alright."

Jungkook quirked a brow. "Alright, what?"

"I'll let you use that on me," you spoke. "I trust you." Of course, you didn't really, but if he didn't think he had your trust, how were you to keep his? Besides, this would perhaps be your last trial.

Jungkook grinned at your words, his hand skimming over your back as he made sure you were pressed firmly against the bed. "This might hurt," Jungkook warned, a chuckle in his tone. "And I think I'll certainly enjoy it."

He pressed the flat of the blade against your skin, letting it drag tauntingly, the cool metal making you shiver with anticipation and slight fear. You were nervous, admittedly, but bit your tongue, determined to get through it.

His hand took on a more soothing atmosphere as he pressed against you, firm on your hip instead of digging his nails in to ram into you. And then you felt it. The small cut that made you hiss, gripping at the sheets as pain pricked from the blade. He dragged it, making small lines, his moves slow and precise. You could practically feel the warm blood bubble up from the lines, and from the erection pressing against your thigh as Jungkook straddled your legs once again, you were sure that he was more than enjoying it.

He drew more lines, and it didn't take you long to figure out that he was writing down characters. He dared to move a little faster instead of dragging it, and you found yourself biting down on the sheets of the bed to stifle any noise, letting the pain simmer on your lower back. Jungkook would let out small, tasteful hums, moving the blade to cut your skin. You guessed he wasn't going deep enough to scar or to cut into the flesh, but definitely enough to at least break the skin.

"My little whore's getting a tramp stamp," Jungkook laughs, placing the blade to the side, and you let out a breath of relief to know he was finished. "My own name branded into her skin. How do you like it, doll?"

"I love it if you do," you spoke, feeling some of the warm liquid start to dribble down your side. Jungkook's fingers tried scooping it up, dragging the pads of his fingers over your skin, smearing it like paint along a blank canvas. You let out a small whimper as his fingers brushed over the cuts, and he let out a small hiss of satisfaction. Pain prickled along your skin with every touch as he admired how the red looked along your skin, and before you knew it he was holding out two fingers in front of you, the slender digits smeared with the alluring red.

You wrapped your lips around his fingers, letting your tongue twirl around the digits to lap up the liquid, the taste of salt and blood lingering on your buds as you continued your ministrations. Jungkook grinned, petting your hair affectionately as you cleaned your blood from his fingers. "Do you like the taste?" he asks you. It somewhat reminded you of copper, like when someone would try to bite down on a penny to see if it were real. That's what it tasted like to you.

"Yes," you say, licking your lips. Jungkook's eyes lit up in delight as he stared at you, smiling as he got off of you.

"Spread your legs, doll," he said in an airy voice, quickly yanking down his pants as he licked his lips. "If I don't fuck you now, I'll go mad."

Obediently, you got on all fours, spreading your legs wide as you arched your back, feeling some of the red liquid still dripping down in the direction of your spine. Jungkook's hand trailed along with the blood, as though he were finger painting, and the warm liquid continued to smear along your back. You moved your hair to the side as Jungkook dragged you closer, hooking his other hand around your inner thigh, getting your ass closer to his crotch.

He directed himself to your entrance, admiring the way the red smeared against your back. This really turned him on, you could tell, and he was absolutely riveted by the scenery. From how your face twisted with pain to how the blade pierced your skin, he enjoyed every second of it. He taunted you, running his length between your cheeks slowly as though to tease you. Without further ado, he pushed himself into you, a sharp snap of the hips as he thrust into you abruptly.

You let out a yelp, feeling how he directed himself at the certain angle you were familiar with already. After sleeping with him for various weeks, he seemed to already know exactly what made your toes curl, just as you knew what really got him off in bed. He continued to pump himself into you, a brutal and singular pace, not sparing you any mercy. He knew you could handle it.

He plowed through you, hands now both on your shoulders to press you down, and he let out throaty grunts. You moaned, though it was muffled from how your face was buried in the sheets. Jungkook's hand tangled in your hair, pressing your face deeper into the mattress as he slammed his length into you, cutting off any air for you.

You reached back, the pads of your fingers skimming over the warm blood, and you fumbled to palm at the wounds, trying to cover your hand and fingers in the red liquid. You grunted into the sheets, running your bloodied hand over your ass and down your thigh, causing Jungkook to have harder thrusts as he buried himself deeper into you.

"Fuck," he cursed out at the sight as your bloody hand landed back beside your head, and he continued to pummel into you. "God, you have no idea what you do to me," he grunts.

You whine in response, moaning into the sheets as your clean hand wandered between your legs, vigorously rubbing your clit in a hurried fashion, Jungkook's pace increasing as you did so. You wanted to reach your high, the fire in your lungs and Jungkook's singular snaps of the hips slowly pushing you over the edge.

It was nearing, and you felt your stomach tighten, your orgasm coming close. You found yourself being washed over in white hot bliss, and you went limp beneath Jungkook as he proceeded to use your body like a sex-doll, thrusting in and out of you as he chased his own high.

Before long, he was cumming inside of you, his hot seed filling you. Usually, he'd pull out and cum on you, either on your face, back, or tits. But your back was currently covered in blood, and your tits and face weren't exactly facing him. You didn't worry about it, however, instead raising your face slowly from the sheets, breathing hard as you let the oxygen fill your lungs.

You felt so tired. So, so tired. But you knew that tonight, you'd have to stay awake.

Jungkook was fast asleep, and you had woven yourself out of his arms to go to the restroom, where you opened a drawer that had your contacts. These were the type that only certain spies carried around, but it certainly wasn't the typical prescription type. These were one of the six made by American scientists, and your officials thought your mission was important enough to lend them to you.

These were the type that would allow you to hack into any electronic device, which you used to frame the nurse all those weeks ago for the various murders you committed. You were right in a sense about the information you needed being stored in Jungkook's bedroom- but only because he was sleeping there now. There was a big possibility it was actually in his hand, where he was carrying it around all along, that you let use you in various ways.

You didn't do this before because you needed to let any of Jungkook's further suspicions of you die down after you killed Jennie, waiting for the perfect time to strike. You couldn't do it any later, for tomorrow morning there would apparently be another battle. Slowly you popped the contact lens in your left eye, returning beside Jungkook, staring down at his hand.

A red outline of the device hidden inside showed, and various screens appeared. You were thankful that the agency helped teach you about computers and such, as you dove deeper into the device, more screens popping up before your eyes until a green screen appeared, bright text as you put in various code with single movements of your pupils darting around the room. This technology was certainly the future, thought it wouldn't be released for a very, very long time.

You finally accessed it, finding various documents and sketches for the strategies and government secrets. Trades for weapons, when and where, and exactly what. Everything you needed to stop the war was right here, and you didn't hesitate as you sent it to headquarters. You didn't leave a single digital footprint, and as you popped out the lens and put it back into the holder, you marveled over the fact that you just destroyed Jungkook's high chance of winning, crumbling and smashing it into smithereens. The room was calm compared to all of the chaos you single-handedly unleashed, and you grinned thinking about what could happen, and what just did.

And there he laid, perfectly still, resting peacefully. He had absolutely no clue that you obliterated his hopes and dreams, and you thought about what a shame it was that such an interesting character would meet his doom because he let the wrong girl in bed. Perhaps he didn't think about the fact that you were too good to be true, a too perfect fit. Shame, really, he was cocky for good reasons. It would be a pity to see his end. And yet what a spectacular show you were sure it'd be.

And you nestled back into his arms, a smug grin on your face as you waited for the morning to approach, signaling the beginning of the day when Junkook lost it all.

You had convinced Jungkook you were rather incapable of walking when he tried to drag you into another battle, and the moment you heard news of him and his troops being on the battlefield, you rejoiced. You took wine bottles and filled them in your backpack, taking a few belongings as you prepared to depart. You had already managed to contact the agency after you sent the information, and they were on their way to send you back to headquarters.

You were currently climbing out of the window, fixing to walk along the walls and jump from window to window to sneak to the second level. You gripped on the window, latching onto the edge as you swung down to the window below, that had a small tarp hanging over it for shade, which you gripped on to swing yourself closer to the glass, tightly holding onto the sides to stabilize yourself. You proceeded to jump to the window on your right, climbing down to jump on another ledge. You repeated the process, not wanting any of the cameras on the inside to see you until you got to your escort.

It must've taken hours, but you were patient, knowing that the escort would have to wait for you and that you had time. Finally, when you dove into the second floor (after successfully prying the window open with great difficulty), you landed on your feet, staring down at the body of a dead man, blood pooling around his corpse, his throat having a deep gash in it.

You stared up, and before you could so much as process what had happened you felt a sharp prick in your shoulder, and you lids began to close.

You wanted to die. There was so much pain, and you had barely been kept alive for a week, being put through agonizing pain as Jungkook toyed with you again and again. You remember just a week ago, when he showed your contacts, waving them in front of your face before slapping you, his eyes blazing. You had taken everything from him, so now he'd take your life away from you.

Your face was the only thing that wasn't harmed since he insisted he wanted to 'keep you pretty'. The very first day, he brought out that same knife, a grin on his face accompanied with a sadistic glimmer in his eye. He wanted to mark you more permanently, and you screamed and tried to kick as he carved his name into your inner arm, going deep into the flesh, letting the blood go everywhere. But that was only the beginning, and you constantly found yourself on the verge of death. You wanted it to be over already.

Apparently, when they were defeated, Jungkook was pushed into humiliating surrender, thus determining his own fate. He was set to be killed- already being hunted down by the families and hunters that wanted revenge for his atrocious acts. He didn't care, simply dragging you away to spend his final moments with your own, putting you through agonizing pain as he toyed with your life, taking his revenge.

You wanted to laugh in his face for being so petty. He lost, he should get over it. You were a spy who had duped him by sneaking into his bed, and the idiot was too blind that he ignored all the warning signs. But he unleashed his anger on you, where your skin was black and blue, and your 'pretty face' was the only thing recognizable about you anymore.

The hardest parts were when he was gone, and you were left alone with your pain, completely alone. You thought about what led you down this path, what had caused it to all come down this. Why were you here? Why had this happened to you?

But you weren't an idiot. You knew what you did. You were no better than Jungkook in that aspect, having no mercy or empathy, using others for your own sadistic needs. You didn't care for anyone other than yourself. Turns out Jennie was right, you were the one who deserved to be in that chair. And you were sitting in it now. You deserved this death. It was the exact opposite of that nurse's who you framed so long ago. Her death was quick, painless, and public. Yours was slow, painful, and private.

Every time Jungkook came back to repeat your session, he'd shoot back snooty comments that you said to him when you first met.

"And here we have but a simple nurse," he mocked. "Dabria. She's getting what she deserves, and no one can cower when justice is being served, isn't that right? After all, the enemy isn't one to be pitied."

You glared at him in response. Why couldn't he just kill you already? It had been seven days. You wanted death. You wanted the pain to stop. You wanted everything to stop.

"She has no reason to fear me, isn't that right?" He yanked your head, craning your neck as he quirked a brow, a small smirk on his face. "After all, she likes this, doesn't she? Isn't that right, doll?" He yanks on your hair harder, making you wince.

"How dirty," he tsks, shoving your head back forward, and you cough up blood. You glare at him as he walks back to the front, bending down to meet your eye level, cocking his head to the side. "You've earned this. You know you have. The one who was so cocky is now nothing but a pathetic mess."

He slaps you again- the only abuse he'd do towards your face- and your head swung to the side. You were limp, letting your head hang limply in front, not offering up a fight. You didn't care anymore. You didn't care about anything other than death.

"Giving up so easily, doll?" he mocked, smiling. "You're no fun."

You didn't respond, and he sighs in disappointment, taking his hand and tilting your head up to stare at him. You glare, the once menacing and piercing gaze now seeming weak and pitiful. Jungkook smiled at that, reaching for the gun on the table.

"I think they've found me, doll. They'll probably try to kill me tomorrow. I suppose I'll just have to change what I look like and move to another location to start over. I don't know, it's my first time in this situation- after all, whoever heard of duping a god? So I'm afraid our fun's over," he shook his head. "Pity, too. You were my favorite, ironically. But it was too good to be true, wasn't it?"

Silence.

"And you used to be so chatty," Jungkook murmurs. "Now, tell me, last words?"

"Fuck you," you spat, using the last of your strength to spit in his eye, a small mixture of saliva and blood. He wipes his eye in disgust, rolling his eyes once it's out. He cocks his gun, squeezing your cheeks together to part your lips.

"Open wide, doll," he chuckles lowly. He shoves the gun between your teeth, and you taste the cool metal and unexpected grease, causing you to gag.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you met your untimely end.

[sapphicscholar]

I know you've kind of done this already in Tabula Rasa, but could you maybe write a fic where some of the Superfriends end up in a parallel Earth where all of the Superfriends (or at least most, I'd love to see another version of evil Alex for sure. Maybe a version of her who became evil even without working for a xenophobic DEO? IDK) are evil? (This prompt may or may not be inspired by my annoyance at the plot of the crossover...)

I just posted it to AO3! 

A/N:Ugh yes, we can all be annoyed at the crossover… Since I already did an actual evil alternate universe in Tabula Rasa, I went full on campy evil for this one (think Lucy Diamond in DEBS) that’s largely inspired by my earlier musings here. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy and sorry it took me a while to get to it! I’m finally going through some old prompt requests now that I’ve got a bit of time in these quiet few days at work.

Chapter Text

“Not again,” Alex hissed as the monitors flickered to black before flashing back up now covered in full color, high resolution photos of her from high school: black choker around her neck, black vest on, striped tie looped around the waist of her low-rise jeans, and some heavy black eyeliner to top off the whole punk rock aesthetic.

“You’ve got company headed up in 5,” James informed her, ignoring the litany of increasingly obscene threats crackling through his earpiece.

“Then get your little boyfriend on the phone and tell him to knock it the fuck off,” Alex growled, waiting for the inevitable refutation of their relationship, the insistence that they “don’t do labels.”

Even as he protested, James dialed Winn.

“Hello?” Winn answered, the poorly disguised snicker proof enough that he was behind the hack.

“C’mon man, we let Lucy have her heist last night without issue. Let Alex back into the system.”

“You’re getting off too easily,” Winn huffed.

“And I can guarantee you won’t get off at all tonight if you don’t call this off,” James threatened.

“You’re the worst.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“You know how much shit I’m gonna get from Vasquez if I give in this quickly?”

“What if we promise not to ruin their date night with Lucy this week?”

Winn paused, deliberating for a few minutes. “That I can work with.”

“Thanks, man.”

“See you tonight?”

“My place or yours?”

“James!” Alex growled, her voice startling him.

“Mine,” he quickly answered Winn, hanging up to refocus his attention on Alex. “You should be back in any second now.”

“Not dating my ass.” Alex continued trying to circumvent the active hack until suddenly it disappeared, the screens flashing back to the museum security feed she’d been trying to overwrite when Winn and Vasquez decided to play their little prank. “I’m back.”

“Good. You’ve got about two minutes.”

“Only need one.”

“That’s my girl,” Maggie chimed in, her voice barely audible over the sound of her motorcycle roaring to life.

“Always.”

“Now who’s being gross?” James teased, following Maggie’s location through her motorcycle’s GPS tracker.

“Still you,” came Alex and Maggie’s voices in unison.

“And we’re…clear!” Alex cheered, slinging the long cardboard tube over her back, wiping the keyboard even though she was wearing gloves, and bolting for the back exit where the security cameras were still under repair.

“Three, two, one,” James counted down, watching as Alex and Maggie’s blinking red GPS lights got closer and closer together.

“Hey babe,” Alex rasped, throwing on the spare helmet and straddling the back of Maggie’s bike. “Take me home. You know how I get after a good heist.”

“You still have to come here first!” James yelled, hoping he wouldn’t have to go over in the middle of the night to interrupt them…again.

“I’m thinking diamonds,” Lucy mused, her teeth nipping at Vasquez’s earlobes and her hips grinding down into their lap.

“Mm, yeah?” Vasquez asked, not trying particularly hard to pay much attention to their girlfriend’s words. At this stage, they were always just ideas, liable to change with a moment’s notice—often to thwart Alex’s latest ploy. They were just grateful that the rivalry had turned (mainly) friendly over the years. Back before Alex started dating Maggie, the two had been at each other’s throats,  more often focused on ruining the other’s heists than on actually accomplishing anything themselves. But now that Alex had a “mission statement,” which Lucy loved to scoff at, even though she liked to boast about how she operated within her own code of honor, they’d come to an uneasy truce that involved more playful attempts at sabotage that rarely turned violent these days.

“Can you two not do that in the van?” Winn whined. “This is my space—my sacred space.”

“You said that about your lab too,” Vasquez pointed out.

“Yeah, Schott, you only get one. Pick wisely.”

“Just don’t—keep your clothes on, alright?”

“No promises.”

“Why do I tolerate you two?”

“Because otherwise you’d be sitting in a lab full of perfect inventions without the daring to go use them yourself?” Vasquez offered.

“You’d have this van all rigged for surveillance with no one to watch for?” Lucy chimed in.

“You’d know how to make targeted explosions and decoys and holograms but never see them put to their best uses?”

“You’d—”

“Okay! Okay, I get it. You two are the muscle.”

“And the looks.”

“And the courage.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Vasquez said, shaking their head. “C’mon, who would actually know enough about computers to hack me if you left?”

“I guess,” Winn sighed melodramatically. “So you said diamonds…want me to start looking up possible targets?”

“I know just the one.”

“That so?”

Lucy nodded. “Oh yeah. She has more money than anyone in National City—just enough for some forcible sharing, I think.”

“Love the way you think,” Vasquez said, placing a kiss on Lucy’s cheek.

“Wait. You’re gonna try to rob Cat and Astra?” Winn asked, his mouth gaping.

“What? No, I don’t have a death wish,” Lucy laughed. “Besides, they’re already fighting the good fight.”

“Ah yes, that Lucy Lane patented code of honor.”

Holding two fingers up, Vasquez repeated in a military-esque monotone: “Criminals with honor do not harm or steal from other criminals with honor.”

“Damn straight.”

“And so how do you justify messing with Alex?” Winn asked.

“That sense of honor is still new. And these days I don’t harm her—just inconvenience her.”

“Fine,” Winn gave in. “But who’s richer than Cat and Astra?”

“Lena Luthor.”

—

The next morning, Alex carefully brushed away a speck of almost imperceptible dust from the broad shoulders of James’ suit jacket, watching in the mirror as he straightened his jacket and tightened the knot of his tie just a hair. Maggie handed him his phone and gun once Alex got his cufflinks fastened.

With a charming (and perfectly disarming) smile and wink, James slung the tube over his shoulder. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck when you look like that,” Maggie teased, swatting at James as he walked toward the front door, putting an extra swing in his step and letting out a deep laugh at the teasing wolf whistles and catcalls Alex and Maggie sent his way.

“We’ll be in the area if you need us, alright?” Alex added, her expression morphing into a more serious one.

“I know you’ve got my back, Alex.”

“Always.”

Within half an hour, James’ town car pulled up in front of the buyer’s restored nineteenth-century brownstone where he’d agreed to meet them—the hominess of it all somehow helping their genteel clientele to assuage their guilt over purchasing stolen artwork.

“Mr. Kent?” a middle-aged woman answered the door.

“At your service,” James replied with a small dip of his head and an easy smile that had her cheeks flushing a faint pink. “Can I ask your name?”

“Oh, I’m not the one you want to see.”

“On the contrary. You’re the very first one I’ve seen, which must make you someone worth knowing.” James smiled as any sense of wariness dissipated, the woman clearly charmed by him.

“I’m Katarina. I work for Morgan Edge.”

“Well it is my deepest pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Yes, I, uh, yes,” she stammered, mumbling her way through a few pleasantries before finally guiding him out of the entrance room. “Come right this way.” He followed her through a long hallway until they reached the home office in the back.

“Mr. Edge, it’s so nice to meet in person,” James greeted the man.

“I see you brought my newest acquisition.”

Right to business apparently, James thought. “I did. I assume you’ll want to see it first.”

As he pulled the tube over his shoulders, Katarina returned, a small mug clutched in her hands. “I brought your espresso.”

“Thank you,” James said, his deep voice rumbling over the disgruntled huff of Morgan’s complaints about her always interrupting his meetings. He paused for a moment to sip at it. “Always better to enjoy while it’s hot,” he added by way of explanation. “And it is excellent, Katarina.”

“Well, if you ever find yourself in need of a fix…”

“You’ll be the first person I call.” Sensing Morgan’s growing frustration, he turned back to the tube, slipping on a pair of gloves to pull out the painting.

Morgan leaned in closely, magnifying glass in hand as he inspected a few areas—always the same ones, James thought to himself, almost disappointed by the predictability of it all. After several long minutes, Morgan nodded. “It will be the perfect piece for my study.”

“And now it’s my turn to inspect.” James carefully rolled the painting up once more and stuck it back in the tube.

“Of course.” Morgan handed over a briefcase full to the rim with stacks of bills before turning back to his desk. With the painting strapped to his back for safekeeping, James checked the totals, then ran the special detecting pen Alex had invented to find fake money by scanning the chemical makeup of the ink and paper over the edges of the bills.

When Morgan turned again, already demanding to know what the holdup was, he found a gun pointed between his eyes. “And what do you think you’re doing?” he growled. “In my own home? I’ll have the police here before you can even think of pulling that trigger.”

“Oh, I don’t think you will. At least not when you’re buying stolen art and trying to pay me with counterfeit bills.”

“They’re perfectly real,” Morgan scoffed, pulling out one of top stacks.

“No, no.” Shaking his head, James pulled out the stacks beneath it. “The rest of it.”

Looking slightly inconvenienced but not at all abashed about having been caught, Morgan unlocked his safe and pulled out another briefcase, which James inspected thoroughly. Finally convinced that they were real, James added the top layer of real bills from the other briefcase to the new one—“for the trouble you put me through”—and handed off the painting, slowly backing out of the room, gun still pointed at the man until he was out of sight.

—

“Deal’s done,” came James’ voice through the intercom once he was safe in the town car again. “You need backup?”

“Nah, this part is the easiest,” Maggie answered, grinning over at Alex, who was leaning heavily against the wall of the warehouse, barely stifling her tired yawns. “Looks like I wore you out last night, babe.”

“More like Lucy did,” Alex huffed. “I’m so sick of having to deal with the added stress of her shit.”

“Oh please, you two keep each other sharp.”

Before their bickering could escalate—or turn into the heated makeup sex they favored—they heard the door creak open, and Alex smiled as Maggie greeted the first man through the door in perfect Spanish. They never used names, but she still felt close to him, a level of loyalty she afforded to very few of her other clients.

“I believe we have something that belongs to you,” she said, switching back to English when the rest of the group joined them.

“Already?”

“We’re nothing if not efficient,” Alex chimed in.

“Why?” one of the women in the group asked. She was new, Maggie noted, and rightfully suspicious of a gift that seemed to come with no strings attached.

“I don’t take kindly to my country profiting off of stolen artwork. I’m simply…expediting the process of repatriation.”

The woman scoffed. “And your country is okay with this?”

“Was yours when we stole the art in the first place?”

“And there are no strings attached?”

“Ah, well, I do like a nice bottle of wine—I’m partial to reds, and my partner here likes a dry wine.”

“Anything for you,” the man from before added, tipping his head to Maggie before taking the tube from her. “As always, thank you.”

“Anytime.”

—

“Have I mentioned lately how much I love having shapeshifters for friends?” Kara asked, throwing an arm around J’onn’s shoulders and reaching a hand out to M’gann. “Because I really, really do.”

“Whatever we can do to help Lena’s shelter—just say the word,” J’onn said.

“As long as you never say a word, then we’ll be just fine.”

“I still don’t see why the girl won’t let her good deeds be known,” M’gann mused, letting go of Kara’s hand to settle back in behind the bar.

“It’s harder to blackmail rich bad guys when you’re not invited around anymore because the Luthor last name has lost all meaning.”

“You’re the one that collects half the dirt with your powers, though.”

“But I wouldn’t know where to go digging if it weren’t for Lena’s first steps. Plus, you know how she enjoys siphoning off Luthor Corp funds. It’d be less fun if she had to spend her own money.”

“You know we’re mindreaders, right?” J’onn asked, arching an eyebrow at Kara.

“You can’t read mine,” Kara countered.

“No,” M’gann admitted, “but we know that your little girlfriend donates half of her personal income to charities every year.”

Kara groaned. “Don’t tell her you know, okay? She doesn’t want people knowing about it—once people know, it ruins it for her.”

“Whatever you say…”

“It’s not like you want people to know you’ve been volunteering to keep her refugee center running either.”

“No one would willingly enter a center run in part by a White Martian, especially one who shapeshifts to steal and infiltrate the local police units.”

“And you think that they’d send their kids off to play with a Luthor?”

“Point taken.”

“Anyway, are you two coming over for dinner tonight?”

“Not tonight, sorry,” J’onn apologized. “We’re a little short-staffed at the bar, and you know how Friday nights can get.”

“But next time, we promise,” M’gann added, reaching over to give Kara a hug before she left.

—

“We should really get going,” Astra sighed, even as she lifted her arms to allow her shirt to be removed. “Wouldn’t want to be late.” Her breath hitched at the feeling of teeth nipping at her neck and nimble fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper of her black pants.

“She’s not my niece,” Cat shrugged. “Besides, I’ve always preferred to be fashionably late.”

“And yet if I’m just a minute late for dinner…”

“I. Do. Not. Wait.” Cat declared, punctuating her words with harder bites, wishing she could leave some kind of mark on that flawless skin.

“I always make it worth your while, though,” Astra drawled, easily flipping them so that Cat was on her back, her breathing ragged and her chest flushed a faint pink.

“Last night you didn’t.”

“Last night I had the chance to sabotage the newest oil pipeline, darling. I don’t complain when your work comes first.” Astra’s fingers trailed up Cat’s thighs, gently pushing up the hem of her dress.

“I know, I know. It’s just a shame—you know my fingers, talented as they might be, just don’t compare to your tongue.”

“Well, why don’t we get dressed for dinner with Kara, and when we get back, I’ll make it up to you threefold.”

“I suppose I could be amenable to those terms if you let us take the car to dinner tonight.”

“But flying is so environmentally friendly.”

“It’s windy.”

“I’ll shield you.”

“We drive a hybrid.”

“Fine,” Astra finally relented.

—

Looking around the table, Kara couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her friends and family all gathered together, laughing as Maggie regaled them with tales of Alex’s latest misadventures with Lucy, Vasquez, and Winn. As much as Alex complained about the lot of them, she knew better than to believe that she truly hated them. After all, it had been Lucy and Alex who’d willingly put aside their differences to bring down Non when Astra’s life was in jeopardy, then again when Max Lord came for Kara herself. Plus, she doubted that Alex would voluntarily spend hours sifting through childhood photos of someone she truly despised, even if she was looking only for the most embarrassing ones.

“What matters,” Alex finally cut in when it seemed like Maggie was just one step away from pulling out the photos for a show and tell, “is that we made it out just fine.”

“Which is why we’re letting Lucy have her little date night tonight without any interruptions from us.”

The laughter that filled the room was soon cut off as both Kara and Astra sprung to their feet.

“We have company,” Astra hissed. Within moments, everyone in the room had at least one weapon drawn, all of which were pointed at the intruder that Astra whisked in through the balcony window and unceremoniously threw to the floor.

“Lucy?” Alex gasped, seeing the telltale full body black leather suit she wore when she went out on her little cat burglary missions.

“The hell, Danvers? I thought you were gonna let me have my date night.”

“Since when is your date night crashing my family dinner?”

“Since when is Luthor family?”

“Since she started dating me,” Kara just about growled, crossing her arms and stepping protectively in front of Lena. “And if you’re here to hurt her, you’re gonna have to fight your way through each and every one of us first.”

“And you know better than to touch my sister,” Alex added, her tone sharp as she let her gaze flick pointedly to the gun in her hand.

“Since when do you protect the rich?” Lucy asked, turning her attention to Maggie, figuring she was the best bet for an ally—she had the whole Robin Hood schtick down to an art.

“When the rich are giving more money away than I could even if I managed a heist every day.” Lena began to object, but Maggie waved off her protests. “Alex hacked into your accounts the first time she found you and her sister in bed together. Be lucky that’s all we found.”

“If you’re so charitable, why have you been ordering millions of dollars’ worth of diamonds?” Lucy demanded.

“Most of them will be sent back to the communities they were stolen from,” Lena huffed. “I might be a villain—”

“Hardly,” Maggie scoffed. “Blackmailing the worst of your one-percenter pals with your girlfriend, stealing from your family’s evil company—they hardly make you a villain.”

Lena just rolled her eyes. “Fine. But, since the surprise is sort of ruined now…” Turning to face Kara, Lena dropped down to one knee. “Kara Danvers, the months I’ve spent with you have been some of the best ones of my life. There’s no one I’d rather extort and blackmail with than you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes!” Kara gasped, dropping down to her knees as well and pulling Lena into a passionate kiss that may well have gone on much too long to be appropriate in front of family, friends, and intruders were it not for the loud whooshing sound and the way the whole floor seemed to shake.

“The hell did you bring with you, Lane?” Alex growled.

“It wasn’t—” But Lucy didn’t have time to finish her thoughts before a large silvery portal opened up, and doppelgangers of Kara, Alex, Maggie, and Winn thumped to the floor, looking more than a little taken aback at the sight of so many people and weapons surrounding them.

“Who are you?” Kara finally demanded, glaring at the intruders, letting her eyes burn red.

“Um, I think we’re you…from another Earth—Earth-38 to be specific,” the new Kara volunteered. “We were over on Earth-1 helping out some friends, but we had to leave in a hurry, and I think maybe we set up the breech incorrectly…”

“No shit,” Alex growled, looking closely at her Earth-38 counterpart and refusing to lower her weapon.

At that moment, Lucy’s earpiece crackled to life with Vasquez and Winn’s worried questions. “I’m up in the apartment…whole story there. But, uh, we’ve got company, and I think you’re gonna want to see this.”

—

Earth-38 Winn scoffed at his doppelganger, having found himself increasingly disgusted as he heard him joking about heists and devious inventions. “How could you? After everything that happened with our dad?”

“After everything that happened, how could you not?” his evil counterpart shot back. “You watched him lose everything—his career, his money, his inventions, his wife, his love for life, his desire to live. How can you justify sitting back and doing nothing to avenge him?”

“Somehow I don’t think a murderer losing his love of life while he rots in prison really rises to the level of vengeance-worthy crimes against humanity.”

“Prison?”

“For murder.”

“What do you mean? He didn’t do anything. He let his boss take credit for his inventions, rolled over each and every time until he had nothing worth fighting for, nothing worth living for.”

Winn stood there blinking. “I…that—that’s not what happened on my Earth.”

—

Across the room, Maggie and Alex sat together, watching as their Kara and Winn worked with the other Earth’s more tech-oriented folks to try to make sure that any new breeches wouldn’t send them to yet another Earth that might be even less friendly toward them.

“You didn’t seem surprised that your doppelganger isn’t the paragon of virtue,” Maggie noted.

“I’m not.”

“Why’s that?”

Alex shrugged. “I’m not Kara. I’ve killed before, and I likely will again. I do the things that need to be done. I’ve never been a saint.”

“But you’re no villain.”

“But to have lost things like that…this Alex had both of her parents taken away and was left with another girl who had lost her whole world, who didn’t get a loving, supportive family to raise her. Instead she was left with me—some bitter teenage rebel who wanted nothing more than to see this world pay for its crimes.” Alex shook her head; it was impressive that they’d ended up as decent as they had. Sure, her counterpart had stolen and lied, but she’d never descended to murder or kidnapping or anything of that nature. She suspected Kara had something to do with it; even if this version of Supergirl was willing to claim power in a way hers never had, was willing to kill when it came down to it in a fight, she still fought for justice, still fought for good.

Regarding Maggie, Alex added, “You’re not exactly stunned yourself.”

“If I didn’t have an aunt to take me in, of course I’d have turned to petty theft. Plus, Robin Hood was my favorite Disney movie…”

Alex laughed. “I guess even here you’ve got a pretty deep-rooted sense of justice.”

“Yeah. And here you’ve got an undercut,” Maggie added, veering them toward lighter topics. “It’s pretty hot.”

“I really hope you’re not suggesting some threesome.”

With a loud bark of a laugh, Maggie shook her head. “Not in the slightest. Just, you know, if you ever wanted to change up your look…”

[arsenicolada]

I have seen that 'story' go around a lot and I still don't know what it is. WHAT is My Immortal??

Ok buddy get yourself comfortable cause this is gonna be a long one:

Let’s go all the way back to 2006, when the internet was just becoming a thing to young people. Back when a majority of the websites we know today were either just starting out or just starting to pick up in popularity, including fanfiction.net. A lot of fanfictions had already filled the archives, both bad and good, but one fanfiction in particular caught people’s attention almost immediately. And it was ‘My Immortal’ by “Tara Gilesbie”, or ‘XXXbloodyrists666XXX’ as was her username on the website. Supposedly taking place in the world of Harry Potter, this particular fanfic gets to a point where, had it not been for the actual characters’ names being present, you can’t really tell what it’s supposed to be referencing as it has very little acknowledgement of the source material’s canon. The story’s main focus is “Tara’s” self-insert OC, Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way. Also known as Enoby, Egogy, Evony, Ibony, or just Tara. To anyone who has only heard of ‘My Immortal’, it just sounds like your typical run of the mill “mary sue” fanfiction. But what made ‘My Immortal’ stand above the rest were three things: the butchered grammar, the author’s seemingly obsession with the gothic subculture, and the mary sue herself.

The grammar is terrible, there is just no other way to put it. “Tara” had a very distinct way of writing, which was better exemplified in her ‘author’s notes’, her little thoughts that she always puts at the very beginning of each chapter or sometimes at the end. And other times in the middle of her story, to either talk back to the ‘flamerz’, go on about how much she loves a band she mentioned, or point out a pun she made. And it all greatly resembles someone sending a text message:

“AN: STOP flaming! if u flam it menz ur a prep or a posr! Da only reson Dumbledeor swor is coz he had a hedache ok an on tup of dat he wuz mad at dem 4 having sexx! PS im nut updating umtil I get five good revoiws!”

That kind of style is present throughout the whole story. Granted the actual chapters have better spelling, but the way it’s put together is all the same. And it actually worsens the further it goes to the near point of illegibility. In fact, legend has it that the story’s grammar was apparently so bad that fanfiction.net deleted it due to the sudden drop of intelligence on the site. No one knows if that’s true, most likely not as that seems like quite a stretch. However, it was actually deleted, perhaps by Tara herself, though she later reposted it.

But the real kicker is exactly how the fanfic interprets the source material. Hogwarts is no longer a school of wizardry divided by bestowed houses, but is now a more high school-based setting where everyone is divided by cliques, though only three are present. Goths, preps, and posers:

•Goths are the good kids. They’re the only ones who understand this dark and depressing world better than anyone else, and shows their individuality by shopping at Hot Topic together and listening to the same exact bands. They’re also half vampires for some reason. And they’re all part of Slytherin even if they’re originally from another house in the actual story.

•Preps are the mean kids. They just like, totally don’t understand goths so they’re like so mean to them and call them scary and stuff. They’re all just bitchy and are like totally jealous of the goths and only shop at stores like American Eagle and only listen to crappy music like Hilary Duff. And all those stupid preps are in Gryffindor.

•Posers are just goth wannabes who listen to Avril Lavigne and probably don’t even know who Good Charlotte is. What houses are they even in, no one knows and no one gives a shit. They’re mostly there just to show the reader what being goth is really all about.

And above them all is the only true goth, the queen of Mary Sues herself, Ebony. Now the definition of what makes a “mary sue” has been drastically skewed over the years, and probably shouldn’t even be relevant anymore, but if you at the very least want a true-to-heart example, Ebony is the way to go. Tara’s obsession with being goth is greatly reflected in this character. She loves bands like My Chemical Romance, Good Charlotte, Simple Plan, and Evanescence (who wrote the song ‘My Immortal’ which this fanfic is named after). She shops at Hot Topic and wears the type of clothing that any 13 year old goth wishes they could. In fact, Ebony’s outfits are always described in great detail and takes up to almost paragraphs in every chapter:

“For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow.”

And trust me when I say they only get longer. It isn’t just the outfit descriptions though, the whole entire story is written in Ebony’s favor. Like a Hot Topic being in Hogsmede despite it being a nonmagical store (not to mention being an american chain) and a club where Ebony’s favorite bands just happen to be playing concerts in despite being muggle bands. And how cutting, underage drinking, and smoking is glamorized as being “dark” and “beautiful” and has no repercussions whatsoever. And how there’s no uniforms so Ebony can show off her over the top wardrobe.

Since Ebony is the main character and this is a fanfiction, all of Tara’s favorite characters from the Harry Potter world are Ebony’s gothic friends and accompany her in Slytherin, even if they’re canonly in other houses as I’ve mentioned previously. And all of Tara’s hated characters are Ebony’s enemies, and are depicted as either nasty preps or a bunch of posers that belong in Gryffindor. It doesn’t stop there though, as all the male characters have a thing for Ebony because she is just so sexy and looks exactly like Amy Lee. But Ebony only focuses on her two main love interests, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, who now goes by Vampire Potter because he likes the taste of human blood.

This is all just the very basics of the fanfiction, there are plenty of more absurdities you’ll stumble upon the further you read. Like Voldemort and the Death Eaters disguising themselves as My Chemical Romance, Snape video taping Ebony taking a bath, characters from different sources making cameos like Marty Mcfly, the list goes on.

But what truly, TRULY made ‘My Immortal’ such a phenomenon is that no one knew if it was legit. There were two sides to how people felt about it, those who thought it was a real story and Tara at the time was another young angsty teen who had just been introduced to the internet (which would explain the terrible grammar and botched sex scenes), and those who thought the story was one big joke written by a genius troll who made Tara up as a persona, which was extremely plausible since everything about the story was so wrong and completely blown out of proportion that there was no possible way someone could’ve come up with it and been completely serious. But people on the other side have argued that they’d have a very, VERY dedicated troll.

One of the biggest factors to their argument was Tara’s friend Raven, who not only had her own OC named Willow that was featured in the story, but also had a helping hand in writing it. She even had her own fanfiction.net account called ‘bloodytearz666’. Raven was Tara’s creative filter, as she was in charge of spelling and grammar and came up with some plot points in the story. At least until chapter 16 when the two apparently had a falling out and Tara killed off Willow, but later brought Willow back as an apology. So this troll would’ve had to not only make Tara, but also make Raven as a means to support their persona, unless Raven was created by a second troll. But both of those trolls would’ve had to write other stories pre and post ‘My Immortal’, as well as manage several social media accounts, which is a whole lot of effort just for the sake of making a joke.

Since the story was made, many people have come forward claiming they are the mysterious Tara, with promises of more material and continuations of the infamous story. So no one knew for sure who Tara is or her whereabouts. Until now.

After years and years of shrouded mystery, “Tara” has finally logged back into her more than decade old account and revealed herself to be Rose Christo. As it turns out, she co-wrote ‘My Immortal’ with Raven, who was actually a real person and her friend, during a very hard time in her life. And it wasn’t for a reason most might have thought. She revealed that she purposely made it as bad as possible so she could gain enough publicity to find her younger brother that she had been separated from.

She even wrote a memoir about it that is set to be published in 2018, which you can read about here.

You can also read the fanfiction itself if you’re interested here. Even if it did turn out to be a fake, it’s still a very humorous read, and very interesting since we now know its backstory.

EDIT: So as it turns out the whole thing with Rose was a hoax and the real Tara is still out there. Waiting, longing, in a dark alley with her hand stretched out so that I may one day shake it.

[theawakenedadventurer]

Be true to your Art. .

That's the whole point of Waking Up and Awareness to anything.

Listen. Read and Comprehend.

THEN think for yourself and NOT just accept things as true just because someone who says they are a scientist, doctor, guru, teacher, politician, priest, pope or supposed master says its true.

Listen before you utter thoughts that were implanted into you by another who is just a puppet.

In doing so, thinking your own thoughts, feeling your own feeling and doing your own things...

The truth is revealed.

That is true freedom.

No one or group can do that for you but they will say anything to get you to believe otherwise.

No one or group fights for your freedom.

Your heart, your energy and your creations are yours to hold, defend and keep or give as you see fit.

Dare to believe that for a moment.

Does it feel dangerous? Why?

Presidents, priests and teachers are nothing but Puppets that are employed and paid to take the microphone and podium to keep the people misinformed, dumb, numb, deaf and blind to the beauty of life!

Dangerous thinking to those who spread lies and fear.

They are afraid.

Of what?

Losing control over others because it has been well thought out and manipulated over the years and now they are laughing about because we the people govern themselves with fear.

They want you to believe there is no stopping it but there is.

A simple empowering thought can change the world and its people.

That's what they fear. But they didnt realize the system they have designed is super fragile.

History repeats if repeated uncontrolled. Controlled repition only prolongs revolution. It's not gonna stop it.

We are smarter than that but we just need to come together and stand up for each other.

We are letting them win by not saying anything at all and ignoring the hate and fear to the point where it becomes the norm.

Then...What happens?

Violence. War. Outburst and just like that, history repeats again with different rulers eventually falling into the same agenda of domination, ruling with fear and lies.

Its an effective strategy. Maybe more effective hundreds of years ago but come on.

We are better than that.

We all have freedom of speech. We should be proud that we live in such a great time of CHOICE.

You can still choose which of the the voices that are amplified in your world.

We still have a choice.

We still have a right to say and write what we want even if it is opposed to the ones who hold the weapons and the money.

We allow these things to go on because we have been taught to feel pain and fear when we hear it.

So what? It's only ok if politicians day things like that because that's what you associate then with?

Most of us our adults or at least people with brains that can think and speak for themselves.

The separation and division goes beyond political parties.

It starts in the mind. If you resist that. You resist the law of nature and only put yourself through pain.

And then we spread the garbage around, the fear and the shit that doesnt matter in the world.

Artists must speak up and fight back because who else will? Who else holds such a vast audience?

What and who do you think the president and everyone influencing him and is being influenced by him is afraid of?

Its not women or immigrants

Artists.

The point is that Everyone is a potential artist and we have the power to unite.

We won't do it if we keep eating up all the nonsense and fear given to us like its priceless info.

And THEN we turn on our brothers and sisters, around the world as people of Earth, and proceed to act like we are informed from the people that are obviously lying about everything.

Everyone thinks they know how it all works and they are a scholar but you know nothing at all from listening to ANYONE who says their way is the ONLY WAY.

Period.

Religion and politics are where the best of the best Liars and Thieves go because you all fall for it and they know it to be profitable, working with fear and hate.

Fear and hate leave more of an acute impression than kindness and love which are chronic.

The screen rules us, and they know if they can just get into your screen and provide the suggestion...

BOOM! You are already regurgitating the nonsense fear intended to be spread.

Good job. That's not art. That's bullshit!

It's something that doesnt exist until you believe it.

KEEP THE FEAR TO YOURSELF, not your real words and true expression.

True expression from the artist is WITHOUT FEAR.

Hmmm, now we are getting somewhere...because WHO do you THINK wants to keep that information from you?

Who benefits from keeping you segregated?

Nice and neat in a box, classified, generalized, stereotyped and prejudged so they can find you because they feel they OWN you.

* Don't be just another NUMBer.

Think for yourself. Have an original thought and THEN speak.

If you learn anything from bitching online, repeating whatever garbage words you found on the internet or the news then learn that.

That alone will change the whole world.

If we don't stand up and speak what we want and don't want, then someone else is gonna do it for us.

That's what wrong with America and the world.

We have grown so accustomed to being BUSY that we let others make important decisions.

Boring .All day. Meetings that seemingly go no where while other more exciting negative attractions and distractions go on so no one even pays attention to all the shit that's being changed and the rights that are being taken.

All while you are being trolled by the latest outlandish antics and anecdotes the clowns have to vomit out to fool you, while you let yourself fall into Chaos of fear.

And then, cut to commercial.

Contrast with a cure.

With side effects, disease, violence and distorted sexuality to fool you even more into handing over your mind and heart to something that doesnt even exist, again.

Jokes on you and they are all sitting their laughing in their ties.

Really, they are more afraid then us.

But, no one else feels they have the power because we were all trained to be that way. To be a victim that seeks attention and approval all while not disregard the humanity of your own neighbors.

Perfect plan for world domination. Dont you think?

Turn the people against themselves.

That's the first and foremost tactic of any strategist in war.

Make the people destroy themselves and the rest of them can fear being destroyed.

Perfect plan but there's a huge hole in it.

Humanity can wake up.

People can realize and unite.

We can reverse the damage if we start the healing process.

It takes it time. Just like Nature. But we have to stop eating all this shit up about President Trump and all his cronies.

You only stand to give him more power by protesting it.

He's laughing because he is doing his job very well.

Operation: Distract the Public with anything possible. Check

Plan for Citizens: Keep numb, dumb, fearful and hateful of eachother. Check

Strategum: Misinformation disguised as truth to keep people's minds closed to the Power of Creation they are capable of: Check

A Revolution of the whole world in how it sees itself in the Universe: Pending

We have to reverse this shit. Let's go!

The time is well past and overdue.

The conversation should be opened up ALL the way if we are to heal as a planet.

Not just a little or an inch at a time because we are afraid of not getting approval.

That's a child mentality. Let us be Men. Women. Adults.

Organized, civilized society doesn't have to be ruled by what our fathers and grandfathers allowed and let slip through the cracks.

Like Congress for example. Terms for life? Wtf is that?

How about volunteers? 2 year term. No pay. This ain't no free ride vacation while you step on the people's voices and choices.

When you serve, you serve for free, with love or else you're out of fucking office.

You'll see how fast all those assholes leave, not getting paid anymore.

President? King? Queen? You should be made to earn that shit through many trials and tribulations that test your worthiness to lead.

Presidential term that is 4-8 years?

No. How about a year? IF YOU ARE GOOD!

How about we all take turns being president and get rid of one rule at a time until all we have left I'd freedom of choice and to live life without the demons that shouldn't even be able to affect us anymore?

They are crying, kicking and screaming because they see they are losing control and are very afraid of losing their tethers to this dimension.

The time of shadow is done

Theres enough people in the nation that are capable and are never given a chance. Pass the torch to someone who thinks in all of the colors in the rainbow instead of choosing one color and denying that there are others.

How do you become a speaker of the world with a mentality of a 3 year old?

Get hired by people with the same mindset who want others to think in a low vibration just like them or even worse!

Let's talk about it and step into our power so we don't need anyone else or government to tell is what we can and can't do because only they supposedly have power because we gave away for convenience.

To not be bothered to learn or grow is the biggest sin against yourself and the people you care about.

Create and then you have so much fun and enjoyit.

You'll have no more room in your life for the things that aren't even real because you are to busy creating your life and manifesting your dreams to even bother with the bullshit.

You have the power to do that right now but will you?

Do you have the proverbial balls to start now?

To live your dream despite all the systems and programs designed to hold you back?

We can only adapt and unite if we adopt an open mindset that is geared toward creation rather than destruction.

Love of life.

Not of fear of death.

Create your masterpiece and watch the fear of death fade for you have left something worthwhile behind and know that it is good.

No more obsession with knowledge.

Fake news and terror is killing our peace in a way that no gun, bomb or weapon of any sort could accomplish at all.

You can take a life but you can't take someone's soul who has lived and gave their life in the name of creation, love and peace

[cyjprojectarchive]

grab my hand | eunwoo/dongmin

monthly prompt event: summer / vacation  group: ASTRO pairing: cha eunwoo/ lee dongmin, you genre: fluff, soulmate!au warnings: mentions of drowning, but not too serious.  words: 4782

note: heavily inspired by dongmin’s CF for lotte waterpark. you can watch the video here. i’m not familiar with the other girl he was with, but they had really great chemistry and the CF was just full of good summery vibes, so why not turn it into a fic. :) ^^ also, i don’t see a lot of astro fics on tumblr, so let’s change that right now, shall we?~ (another thing, /your/ best friend is gender neutral hence the they/them pronouns)

enjoy x

You didn’t quite mind it--it’s been etched on your skin for almost a month now, and seeing that your peers have been getting their own recently, you didn’t feel uncomfortable having it yourself. 

Nevertheless, you can’t say that you’re genuinely excited for what’s to come with having the tattoo. You’re young, you’re reckless, and you’re most certainly unsure of various aspects in your life at the moment--including the search for your soulmate.

Grazing the exposed skin on the inner part of your wrist, you marvel over the words inked on top of your protruding veins, each letter still sending electric signals through your body. 

The first time you saw the soulmate link attached to you was the morning you woke up one day as you felt a sort of stinging on your hand. You quickly inspect the source of pain, and nervous panic ensues in your stomach as the surface glows in the morning light, slowly did the letters inscribe themselves and you squint at the unfamiliar sensation. 

Fortunately, you lived on your own, so your mom--who had been the most excited for you to receive your own link already--didn’t have to know yet. However, you were not so much discreet with hiding it from your friends, so the ones that did have them--and have been acquainted, possible more, with their soulmates--began cheering you on with your own quest. 

Sighing at the thought, you give your tattoo one last glance then quickly grabbed your phone placed on top of your drawer. 

Ever since getting the link, you hadn’t really been that enthused into excessively looking for your supposed soulmate. Heck, you’re not even sure if this whole phenomenon is 100% fool proof as you had your doubts on the universe creating this universal scheme of definitively settling someone’s destiny with another.

You punch in familiar digits on your phone and hold it against one ear, impatiently waiting for the person on the other end to pick up. On the fourth ring, they finally do, and before you can start reprimanding your best friend for their tardiness, they speak up. 

“I’m almost there! Stop sending me so many texts!”

“You invited me in the first place yet you’re the one picking me up ten minutes late,” you scoff, rolling your eyes in slight annoyance. You rarely complain about such trivial matters, but the fact that your best friend had managed to persuade you to spend a whole day at a water park still bewildered you in this moment. 

The reason being: you hated the water, you never bothered learning to swim, and most importantly, groups of people crowding one location gave you unnecessary anxiety and so you never bothered being in any of those positions. 

“Okay, I can see your apartment, come out now.”

“Finally,” you mutter sarcastically, ending the call. Grabbing your duffel bag, you make your way out of your apartment complex and immediately spot your best friend’s car. You open the door and settle in the passenger’s seat, feeling the cool wind breeze onto your face. Sneaking a glance to your right, your best friend gives you an all too excited grin and you groan in response. 

“Aww, c’mon. The least you can do is fake a smile,” they whine. 

“Then you don’t know me well enough,” you counter, crossing your arms and bringing your eyes onto the view in front of you. Your best friend sighing in defeat, they begin to drive again and you suddenly feel your heart dropping to your stomach. 

You had done a great job of setting aside the nerves you’ve been accumulating ever since you both planned on this water park adventure, but now that the actual day has come you can’t seem to disguise a nonchalant facade anymore. 

What felt like an hour to you was only a mere twenty minute ride as you spot the grandiose banner informing you’ve arrived. You hitch a breath as you try to calm yourself down. What if you fake having a stomachache? Your period? Rising anxiety that might possibly make you pass out once you enter the premises of this death trap—water park, you mean.

“I can almost feel you shaking the whole drive here, babe. You’re going to be fine! And it’ll be fun,” your best friend snaps you out of your internal crisis. The engine turns off and they begin gathering their own stuff while you stay still in your seat, gulping down a scream of terror occupying your throat.

“You want to toast yourself inside the car or are you coming with? Like you promised?” Your best friend asks, one eyebrow raised challengingly. Their door was open as their body slouches down to your level. Looking at them with a sneer, you reply, “First of all, don’t call me babe. Secondly, I’d rather toast myself in this heat than drown in muddy water and third, you forced me to go.”

Eventually, you get out of the car—you honestly didn’t want to burn your skin, you just wanted to sound tough—and trudge beside your best friend to the entrance with a frown plastered on your face.

“Why? Are you saving that pet name exclusively for your soulmate?” Your best friend teases, nudging your arm playfully. “Hey, you never know, you might finally meet them here. I mean, your tattoo says, ‘grab my hand.’ Wouldn’t that be romantic to find them here?”

You don’t reply knowing that whatever you defend yourself with, they won’t listen and continue pestering you about that damn soulmate. But, whatever, you have other matters to worry about—and that’s making sure you don’t drown in any of the rides you’d go on today.

If anything, you’re the most adrenaline junkie among your group of friends, that is—if it was on land. Anything water related, you bet your ass you’re sprinting out of that place.

You go through the entrance, security, and the part where they fasten a kind of indestructible bracelet around your wrist which covered your tattoo. You feel momentarily pleased for having it disappear from your sight even if it’s just for today. It hasn’t really helped being that it was summer and you couldn’t—for the life of you—sacrifice sweating buckets wearing long sleeved shirts in order to mask the tattoo away.

“Alright, we’re in! Let’s put our stuff in the lockers and start finding a ride to go on first,” you best friend enthusiastically says next to you and you find yourself just following her orders like a lost puppy. You’ve already bumped into three different people on your way here and your patience is already in its thinnest state. But you see your dear friend already having the time of their life, and you sigh in resignation as you decide to just try and at least enjoy your time with them.

Changing into your simple swimwear and lathering as much sunscreen as possible on you, you and your best friend search for a ride that didn’t have as much people in line. They drag you to one with a long flight of stairs and as you look up, you gasp.

The ride looked like a huge cornucopia with water flowing around it. Just as you start climbing up the stairs, you see a red raft filled with six people diving into the vast space, and like a metronome they splash their way around the circular ride of hell. The raft sweeps side to side as your stomach churns in rhythm, and eventually it reaches the end with a pool of water as their landing. You squirm in your place.

“What do you think?” They ask you, noticing your eyes fixated on the ride.

“You don’t want to know what I think.”

They shake their head in amusement, and grab your hand as you keep climbing up. You’re thankful you have them as support as your knees start wobbling each step you take forward. The sun had started reaching your eyes, and you almost miss a step as you squint at its brightness.

Once landing on the step safely, your best friend stops in front of you seeing the line had paused as well. You take a deep sigh as you continue relaxing your muscles when another figure bumps into your back, causing you to collide against your best friend in front as well.

With your quick reflexes, you hold onto the railing to avoid slipping and falling to your death—and the ride hasn’t even started yet—and glance backward to see the cause of your almost demise.

“Rude,” you utter out loud, not thinking twice. Your eyes are on the boy’s shorts, so they slowly scan their way upward to his face and you blink in shock. The guy in question was staring at you the same, with his dark brown eyes widening and pink lips parting in shock.

“Dude, what’s the hold up?” Assuming it’s his friend, he asks obnoxiously and only notices that the line had stopped moving. You wait for him to look at you and when he does, you momentarily shift your gaze from the handsome boy to his annoying friend and send an expression that made him outwardly quiver in his place. Their other friend smacks his head from behind, muttering something along the lines of respecting women and not embarrassing them in front of pretty ones at that.

“You okay?” Your best friend taps your shoulder, and you close your eyes for a moment before bringing them back to the boy with disheveled—and slightly damp—black hair. “Yeah,” you mumble, turning a 180 from your position to hide the blush forming on your cheeks. He didn’t even say a word to you and yet he’s already got you flustered under his gaze.

The next five minutes had started to feel excruciatingly longer as you keep getting closer to your turn, the more you wanted to sneak another glance right behind you to see if the boy you had shared eye contact with was actually real. You were making it a big deal because getting all whipped for someone you just met—and haven’t even talked to yet—was a rare occasion for you, and only someone that strikingly beautiful can capture your attention as much as he did right now.

You hear his friends conversing to themselves, but he seems to only be an observer as you haven’t heard him speak ever since your encounter. Before you can day dream about it any further, you’re the first in line and the life guard starts directing you to the unoccupied raft dangerously close to the opening of the cornucopia.

Cue your anxiety here.

Shaking legs rest themselves on the wet surface of the raft, and your head is strictly shifted to your best friend’s side, sending them looks of disapproval, worry, and just overall intense fear. You didn’t calculate the height of the ride because if you did, you’d just pass out right there and then. So finally reaching the top made you feel even more nauseous, but your best friend chuckles and pats your exposed thigh for reassurance. Suddenly, their eyes dart to the side and their lips curl into a knowing smile. You try and analyze the cause of their abrupt change in expression, and quickly conclude that you’re only 1/3 of the people needed for the ride to start, and knowing the next three people behind you…

“Alright, let’s get it on!” The annoying one beams, plopping down across from your position. His friend follows suit, laughing at something said prior between him and the….handsome one who gingerly takes his seat next to you.

You move your hand away from the handle in retaliation, but it was too late as his fingers lightly graze your own, and you suddenly couldn’t take control of your muscles anymore.

Sharing another glance, you feel yourself smiling shyly at the interaction, heart thumping in your chest so loud you were sure he could hear it. He returns the smile, albeit even more sheepish than yours, and you quickly shy away your gaze with your eyes finding a certain spot on his outstretched arm.

His wrist had ink.

He has the soulmate link.

Unfortunately, the same bracelet yours shielded the tattoo was wrapped around his own, so it took you one second from feeling giddy to accepting disappointment. A guy like him had probably already met his soulmate—not like you wished you were his, just knowing the possibility of him being taken made you feel small and conscious of your own relationship status.

Caught up in your own dilemma, you didn’t hear the life guard’s safety reminders and therefore didn’t realize your raft being pushed forward and immediately sliding down the pit of darkness. Thus, your scream escapes the confines of your lungs first as your best friend laughs at your initial reaction and joins in. You didn’t even care if the boy found you annoying at this point already, your anxiety had to get out of your system some way or another.

Surprisingly, once your raft got out of the pitch black tunnel, the fast breeze accompanying the momentum of the ride made you feel euphoric as water hits you with every glide of the raft against the ride. You find yourself screaming in delight rather than fear, and your best friend’s I told you it’ll be fun is lost in their own shouts of joy.

You glance to your other side and see his visage fully drenched in water, his mouth spurting some of them away and you can’t help but giggle at the sight. He hears you teasing him, shaking his head like a wet dog to get you just as drenched. You laugh together, enjoying the last few seconds of the whirlwind of a ride before losing its acceleration and slowly moving its way downward until coming to a stop.

You didn’t have a chance to catch your breath and conduct a telepathic conversation with him as his friends start dragging him elsewhere the moment you stepped out of the raft. You frown, knowing you’ll probably never see him again in the sea of people at the water park.

“So, did you like it?” Your best friend says curiously, fixing whatever’s left to fix of their dampened hair. You sigh as you nod absentmindedly, your mind imprint the boy’s features for as long as you can; the waviness of his shiny hair, the sharp curve of his nose, his twinkling eyes, the slight curl of his pink lips and the leanness of his jaw.

Damn are you whipped.

“If it weren’t for that cute boy, would you still have liked it?” Your best friend changes their question, linking their arm with yours as they guide you to a new ride nearby. Finally coming back to your senses, you shake your head. “I mean, him being there was just a bonus. I have to admit I actually had fun up there.”

“See! You just needed to get your ass out of that cramped apartment and actually try new things,” they tell you proudly. “And what did I tell you? The chances of finding your soulmate here was bigger than I thought!”

“He has the ink,” you inform them. Their eyes light up in response but you interrupt their excitement, “but he probably already found his soulmate.”

“What are you talking about? Did you see what his tattoo was?”

“No.”

“So you’re just bluffing,” they conclude, gripping your arm tighter. “Did he say anything to you?”

“Also no,” you answer with a sigh. “It’s whatever. I might not even see him for the rest of my life anymore, so let’s just get on with another ride.”

They shrug at your bitter response. “Unless he’s your soulmate,” they interject in a sing song voice. Narrowing your eyes at them, they retaliate with an innocent grin and completely change the subject at hand, knowing you’re going way past your limit. You try to forget about the lucky encounter you had by indulging yourself in a newfound adrenaline rush within you. You didn’t want to admit it to your best friend that their mission of getting you to enjoy a day at the water park is going exceedingly well, so you just show them your gratitude by laughing and screaming in delight together during the succeeding rides you’d gone to.

The two of you were able to finish off five rides before succumbing to hunger. After buying overpriced burgers, fries, and drinks, you spotted an unused cabana which you and your best friend immediately took territory in. You munch on your feast while retelling your recent experiences on the rides you’d just went on, slowly admitting defeat to your best friend.

Once you had finished eating, you decided to stroll the park to digest the food down. Even if you’re finally enjoying yourself at a place you once believed was Satan’s lair, you still didn’t hesitate criticizing any and every minute detail you found; from the saltiness of the fries, to the greasiness of the patty; from the extremely colorful t shirts employees had to wear to the overly enthusiastic smiles they glued onto their faces. Everything was put under your radar, and as your best audience, your best friend laughed at all of them.

It’s been a good while since you had eaten, and the two of you finally reach the one attraction your best friend had been saving for last: the wave pool. Now, this wasn’t exactly a ride on its own as it was literally just a pool where people of all ages can hang out to their heart’s content. The catch is, there is a fixed interval where the mechanical waves start appearing.

And that’s actually what you feared the most.

“Uhh, do we really need to go on this one? Isn’t this the most boring of them all?” You try to reason out to them as they make their way to the pool. They dip one foot onto the “shore,” and proceed to give you a thumbs up, seemingly avoiding your statement.

“Water’s not too bad, you should get in before the others do,” they suggest.

“You don’t know what’s been in that water since this morning,” you say, slightly disgusted. Your best friend shoots a deadpan expression, and grabs your hand forcing you to stand where your ankles meet the lukewarm water.

They keep pushing you farther away and the more your body submerges itself in the water, the more jelly like your legs began to feel. You stutter, “Hey—hey—wait—what are you doing? This is too deep!”

“It’s just five feet, you’re fine. People are going to swarm the pool once the waves start crashing, so make sure you stay put because that’s a good spot.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” You demand frantically as you see them effortlessly swim away and back to shore. You try and imitate their previous actions, but you soon regret the years you were offered to take free swimming classes in school but you deliberately refused.

“I have to pee! Don’t worry, I’ll be back once the waves come in,” they yell from a few feet away—which seemed to be countries away from where you stood, or floated. Your voice gets caught in your throat as you watch them skip to the nearest bathroom available with the line as long as the rides you went on earlier.

You can almost hear the water threatening you as they meet your neck. Your feet still feels the hard surface of the pool, which you’re grateful for, but as more people splash their way in the pool, the more you feel yourself drifting farther from your initial position.

“As long as my feet touches the floor, I’m good,” you keep repeating to yourself. Everyone around you seems to be having fun and you envy their ability to stay calm and collected in a place that could literally kill you. Gulping your nervousness down, you try to think of positive things that would stray your thoughts away from death as much as possible.

Until you hear a rumbling sound coming from the end of the pool.

People begin hollering, raising their arms and just getting ready for something to happen. Eyes widening, your whole body begins shutting down as well as your toes can merely even feel the surface of the ground. You start to panic, your vision blurry thus making it difficult for you to spot your best friend. You call out their name in a desperate attempt of safety, but your voice is absorbed in the first crash of waves coming towards you, bringing you with its intensity.

You hold onto your breath as your ears ring with muffled voices and screaming thoughts in your head. You raise your arm to signal the danger you’re in, but it felt like your whole body was being pushed in any which way by the waves making its grand entrance.

Is this it—is this what your life has come to—surrendering to the one fear you almost overcame throughout the day but quickly came back to haunt you, that is, drown you?

In the millisecond your mouth meets open air, you try to suck in a huge breath of oxygen to keep you alive until a life guard notices your call for help, but at the same time, your body is being grabbed by something that didn’t feel like water, and you hear a faint, yet desperate voice calling out to you.

“Grab my hand!”

Stupid, you can’t even feel your hands anymore, but they do meet another pair of strong ones, and before you could say your last prayer, your head comes up to the surface yet again and your waist is now enclosed inside what seems like an inflatable floatie.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god,” you spurt repeatedly, not caring whether you’re letting out water from the pool or spit from your mouth. Your hands are still gripping on someone else’s fingers, but your eyes sting from too much collision with the waves it took you a while to recognize your life saver.

“It’s okay—you’re okay. You’re safe. Just, grab my hand. Like that,” the voice calms you down, but you definitely know it isn’t your best friend.

“M—my eyes, they sting,” you sputter, shrieking with every wave still crashing against your figure.

“Don’t worry about it, just calm down, okay? Open them when you’re ready,” he reassures you, and not knowing what else to do you follow his instructions.

After a while, the waves begin to die down and so does your racing heartbeat. You can finally regain consciousness of your body and surroundings and the first thing your eyes see are your hands entwined with another’s, resting in front of the floatie you’re currently in.

Lifting your head, you see a familiar face gazing back at you, a concerned look present on his features. His eyebrows are scrunched in worry, and his eyes produce a certain softness that makes you melt into them. You recognize the same parted lips, and you almost jump back in shock, but seeing as you’re in the middle of a pool, you can only reciprocate his surprised emotions.

“It’s… you,” you mumble in a flurry of different emotions. You’re both drenched in pool water, and you can’t even imagine how unappealing your hair must have looked with it sticking to the sides of your face.

“It’s you,” he says back, taking in your flustered figure with a growing smile. “I’m Dongmin, and I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I…” you trail off, only realizing that he’s the one you owe your life to. “T-thank you, Dongmin,” you add abruptly, mumbling your name in the process. He chuckles lightly, glancing down to your fingers wrapped around one another. No one seems to want to let go; and you’re mind is going in circles at how things are turning out right now.

“May I?” Dongmin asks suddenly, pursing his lips towards your hands and you couldn’t help but to show slight confusion. You nod your head reluctantly, unaware of his intentions. He gracefully lifts your entangled fingers closer to his upper stomach, and as it bumps against his white shirt you feel his toned muscles underneath which causes you to squirm involuntarily.

Dongmin smiles at your reaction but continues to examine your hand—your wrist specifically. He detaches one hand from yours which causes a frown your way, but your lips quickly form an ‘O’ shape realizing what he’s doing.

Pushing the bracelet out of the way, he unveils the inked writing on your wrist. You almost forgot about that thing engraved on your skin, but you join him in reading the words out loud.

“Grab my hand,” you say in unison, and a light bulb pops out of your head. Dongmin present his own wrist to you, and your free hand is trembling as it reciprocates his previous actions, revealing his own tattooed words.

Rude.

“Well, aren’t these a unique combination of phrases,” Dongmin comments out loud and you can’t help but giggle at his observation. Your feelings are almost like the waves that threatened your life just mere minutes ago, crashing and interrupting the peaceful flow of your mind. You can’t believe it.

You actually found your soulmate.

“Speaking of, I’m sorry about my friend earlier. For pushing me therefore pushing you,” he quips in the silence you emitted. You shake your head and look at him. “I should actually thank him. If it weren’t for his annoying ass, you wouldn’t have heard me say your tattoo,” you defend.

“Touché. I may have to wait for you some more,” Dongmin ponders, nodding his head in thought. You laugh at his dramatics and ask, “What, so you’ve been actively waiting for me?”

He feigns hurt, gasping ever so loudly at your smirking lips. “You’re telling me you weren’t?”

Shrugging innocently, you admit, “I just thought you would come in my life naturally, you know.”

“If naturally meant in the form of saving you in distress, then I guess it was worth it,” Dongmin answers back with a grin, and you slap his arm playfully, laughing along. His eyes crinkle amidst his cheerful chuckles, and your heart swells at the view.

You can get used to this.

“Where’s your friend, by the way?” Dongmin inquires once the two of you start making your way to the shore, hands still intertwined together as if they were made to connect that way all along. Dongmin had the floatie around his other shoulder as you look for a spot to sit on.

“Still stuck in the line for the bathroom, probably,” you utter, scanning the vicinity to find a particular mess of hair that belongs to your best friend. Your initial grudge towards them had long dissipated, but their disappearing act still irked your senses.

“Wait. I think I see them.” Halting his pace, Dongmin looks away and you inspect his initial line of vision. Your eyes fixate on the figure of your best friend clearly having a good time with none other than Dongmin’s non annoying friend with the annoying friend in tow. They don’t seem to notice you, so you drag Dongmin towards another direction with the clear intention of avoiding them for now.

“Does your friend have the tattoo link too?” You ask Dongmin to which he shook his head no. “He did try writing random phrases on them before which didn’t end well,” he adds nervously and you laugh at this revelation.

“Maybe it started forming today, you never know. He looked particularly red in the face talking to my friend,” you comment.

“Or he’s probably just sunburnt,” Dongmin retaliates. You laugh at his savage reply, but nod your head as you can’t believe someone shares the same twisted humor as you did.

“So, what do you want to do now?” You ask him once you find a bench under the shade to sit on. Your thighs bump into one another as soon as you relax yourselves onto the seat, and you instinctively back away but Dongmin’s hands find themselves encircling on your own.

“Talk, perhaps? Until our friends go looking for us,” Dongmin suggests, squeezing your fingers softly.

“I’m down for that,” you agree, easing into the comfortable feeling he provided.

This day wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, it was even better than what you hoped for it to be.

Your best friend was right, you should go out more.