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golchaworld · 4 years ago

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Panacea | L.BG (Part 1)

➳ pairing: lee byunggon x fem!reader, ft. cix ensemble

➳ genre: organized crime!au, action, occasional fluff

➳ word count: ~3.3k

➳ warnings: cursing, mild violence, mentions of non-descriptive gore, mentions of sex, glorification of crime

➳ summary: Three years ago, they were sitting in the back of their chemistry class, passing notes and giggling. Now they’re fighting to take down the biggest crime lord in Seoul — their own. Who would have thought knowledge about hydrochloric acid would become so useful?

A/N: I got this idea on a whim a couple of weeks ago. I did a lot of research about CIX’s individual personalities to make this story as true to their characters as possible. I hope you guys enjoy. As always, feel free to reblog or reply with feedback, and my asks are always open.

Part Two

panacea (noun): a solution or remedy for all difficulties

The elevator lets out a soft chime before its doors open. As the man walks further into the office, his shoes click against the sturdy marble. His entrance is announced before he opens the door, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The receptionist quirks his head up, smiling widely once he lays eyes on the man. Not quite the reaction he would expect. The man doesn’t let his surprise show, just choosing to approach the receptionist with an expression set in stone.

“Welcome to Adonis, Inc.,” the receptionist greets. His name tag reads ‘Yoon Hyunsuk’ which is quite the fitting name for the boy behind the desk. His smile never once falters. “How can I assist you today?”

“I’m here for a meeting with Mr. Kim.”

Hyunsuk nods, instantly turning to his computer. “Perfect! May I have your name, please?”

“Ahn Taebin.”

“Okay, Mr. Ahn. I have you down right here. I’ll have someone right out who will take you to Mr. Kim.”

The receptionist finishes his sentence with a smile that has a shiver run up the man’s spine. Does this kid ever stop smiling? Apparently not, seeing as he picks up the phone, muttering a few words into the receiver while he still beams. When another man approaches the reception desk, this time from inside the office, Hyunsuk is still smiling.

“Mr. Ahn, this is Lee Byunggon. He will take you to see Mr. Kim, alright? Feel free to let him know if you need anything.”

The other man, Byunggon, sends Mr. Ahn a curt nod, which serves as both a greeting and a motion to follow him.

The two pass through the seemingly normal office. Cubicles are arranged in neat rows, yet only a few are inhabited by people. Mr. Ahn chuckles under his breath. He knows how hard it is to gain employees in a business like this.

The few employees that are at their desks seem to be hard at work. A few pore over files while others type aggressively. The whole office has the same aura. The perfection is a facade; there’s underlying aggression here. The neatness has a messy side. Mr. Ahn just doesn’t know what it is yet.

Eventually Byunggon stops in front of a grandiose wooden door. The words ‘Kim Jaeyong’ are engraved in a fancy gold font, perfectly matching the warm oak door. From the front, there are no windows, indicating that no one can see in or out. Mr. Ahn wonders if he should take that as a threat.

After three knocks that resonate throughout the office, the door is opened to reveal a blank face. Mr. Ahn has heard that Kim Jaeyong never makes the mistake of showing emotion.

Mr. Ahn is greeted with a short bow, which he returns before Kim Jaeyong motions for him to enter his personal office. Mr. Ahn complies, missing the way Byunggon smiles as the door closes behind the two. Byunggon’s not upset about being left out of the meeting, knowing he’ll bear witness to the best part later.

. . .

Mr. Ahn wakes up with a splitting headache. A bright light is shining in his face, making him flinch away. It’s then that he realizes he can’t move. Mr. Ahn looks down to where his arms are pinned to his sides, held down by a thick rope that has his entire body bound to the chair he sits in. He tries to let out a yell, a scream for help, something, but any sound he makes is muffled by the thick cotton that has been stuffed in his mouth.

“Look, guys. The asshole is awake.”

Mr. Ahn instantly searches the room, looking for the source of the words. It’s difficult, but eventually he makes out six figures standing behind the light that shines intensely in his face. He can’t make out specific faces due to the light, but a familiar smile glows even in the darkness of the surrounding room. The receptionist.

Hyunsuk chuckles darkly, clapping a hand on the shoulder of the boy next to him. “I think you’re going to have fun with this one, Jinyoung.”

The boy next to Hyunsuk, Jinyoung, Mr. Ahn supposes, smiles in his own twisted way. He drags his eyes up and down Mr. Ahn’s figure, eyes lit with a certain sadistic hunger that has Mr. Ahn’s stomach recoiling.

“Too bad I’m not going to get to the best part of it all, seeing as this asshole is going to tell us everything we need to know. Right, asshole?”

Mr. Ahn does his best to shake his head no, squirming within his confines. All six figures break out into laughter, even the ones he can’t see.

The boy that approaches him first has a soft smile, one that looks too sweet to participate in something like this. Mr. Ahn knows it’s all a facade. One look at the boy’s muscular arms lets Mr. Ahn know that he’s the real brawn of this group. Mr. Ahn feels bile rise in his throat.

The boy with the sweet smile just reaches forward, removing the fabric from Mr. Ahn’s mouth. He squats in front of his bound prisoner, cocking his head to the side cutely.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” Mr. Ahn spits out.

Sweet smile boy chuckles. “We are simple people, Ahn Taebin. So let’s start this simply. Where’s our shipment?”

Mr. Ahn racks his brain for information, but he turns up empty handed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Another boy steps out from the shadows, a tablet in hand. With a quick press of a button, staticky audio streams from the device. The boy is stoic, factual, and looks all too much like Kim Jaeyong. He must be a relative. But Mr. Ahn’s train of thought is interrupted when he hears his own voice flutter out of the tablet.

“I don’t give a fuck. I’ll be damned if I deliver Adonis all of that phencyclidine. We could be profiting off that shit. What good is angel dust if we’re not the ones selling it?”

Mr. Ahn wants to vomit. Where the hell did they get that recording?

Sweet smiling boy chuckles again as his other friend returns back to the shadows. “How about I ask you one more time, Ahn Taebin. Where. The fuck. Is our shipment?”

“I don’t fucking know.” Mr. Ahn delivers a sweet smile of his own. He’ll be damned if he lets some kids in on the inner workings of his shipments, even if they already know that they’re hidden.

“You see, I find that pretty hard to believe. When I asked Miyeon, she seemed to think that you knew exactly where our shipment was.”

If Mr. Ahn thought he was going to vomit before, he definitely is now. He spent his entire life trying to keep Miyeon away from this lifestyle, and yet here she is, still wrapped up in Adonis’ tendrils.

“What did you do to my daughter, you son of a bitch?! If you hurt her, I swear my entire gang will have your head.”

At this, the room erupts in sadistic laughter once again. Mr. Ahn hates how much they’re enjoying this.

Sweet smile boy places a patronizing hand on Mr. Ahn’s knee, eyes filling with mirth. “Don’t worry, Ahn Taebin. I didn’t hurt your precious Miyeon. But her pussy might be sore for a few days.”

Mr. Ahn uses all of his strength to fight against his restraints, attempting to lunge towards the boy squatting in front of him. His efforts are futile, though, leaving him to yell frustratedly.

“You twisted fucks,” he bites out.

Sweet smiling boy just stands, retreating into the darkness as another boy takes his place. Mr. Ahn recognizes this as the one from earlier, the one with the sadistic eyes. He holds a pair of pliers in his left hand, in his right, a bone saw. Mr. Ahn gulps.

“Mr. Ahn,” the boy begins. “I think you’ve brought me to my favorite part. So this is your last chance before we really get started. Tell us where our shipment is, and you just might leave with all 10 fingers and 10 toes.”

The light in Mr. Ahn’s face has begun to make him sweat. Despite his discomfort, Mr. Ahn stays strong.

“Go to hell.”

The corner of the boy’s mouth quirks up. “If you say so.”

. . .

“Cheers!”

You clink your glass against the five in front of you before knocking back the shot. The soju burns your throat as it slides down, warming your core to the highest degree. In all honesty, you preferred wine, but Seunghun always insisted on hard liquor after a long week.

You watch as the boys’ faces contort in various ways as they each take the shot. Hyunsuk’s nose scrunches cutely, reminding you much of a baby bunny. Yonghee’s face is twisted into a tight grimace. Jinyoung is the only one who’s stoic, face not budging even as the alcohol travels down his throat. Oh Jinyoung, always the show off.

The plush carpet that you sit on tickles your thighs, reminding you to be mindful of the way your skirt shifts. You remember just how frustrated you were that you had gotten blood on your only comfortable clothes, and thus had to wear this stuffy office getup for the remainder of the day.

“Honestly,” Hyunsuk begins. “I still don’t know how Seunghun managed to fuck every single one of these guys’ daughters. Like every single time!”

Seunghun smirks, leaning back to rest against the couch. “It’s easy when you look like me, kid.”

The group instantly erupts in fake gags and booing. As much as you all praise Seunghun for the inside work he does, it doesn’t mean you enjoy the cockiness. Seunghun’s beauty has definitely gone to his head since he started this work, inflating his ego maximally.

“Shut up,” Jinyoung retorts. “You’re not even the hottest. That’s obviously me!”

Byunggon snorts before knocking back another shot. “You’re both so full of shit.”

You watch as the boys devolve into an argument of who’s most handsome. The only one who is quiet is Yonghee, who just watches the interaction with amusement painted on his face. You wonder if he knows that he could easily win the competition for most attractive.

Yonghee, despite being the handsome guy he is, has always been extremely humble. Part of it stems from being the crime boss’ computer nerd son; he never feels like he’s good enough.

When you meet his eyes from across the small coffee table, you shoot him a small smile. He returns it cutely, making a scene of rolling his eyes at your shared friend group’s banter. Honestly, this is nothing out of the ordinary.

“Y/N,” Hyunsuk calls your attention. “Help us out here. Who do you think is the best looking?”

Jinyoung groans, throwing his head back exaggeratedly. “That’s not fair. She’s just going to choose Byunggon!”

The heat that rises to your cheeks is imminent. Even if Jinyoung is right, that doesn’t mean he has to actually say it.

You’ve always found Byunggon attractive, even when you were younger. His strong jaw and rounded cheeks provide the perfect balance between cute and manly. Paired with his wide shoulders, deep voice, and dimples to die for, it’s obvious that Byunggon is the epitome of perfection.

And just maybe you’re a little in love with him.

What’s worse is that it’s not a secret. Everyone in the office seems to notice. Even Kim Jaeyong himself once made a joke about when you two would finally make it official. And maybe it’s a good thing that everyone knows. Well, everyone except Byunggon himself.

“She is not going to choose me!” Byunggon ducks his head to hide his blush. “You’re her favorite, Hyunsuk. She’s definitely going to choose you.”

Seunghun cocks an eyebrow, looking at you expectantly. “Well…?”

There’s only one way to diffuse the tension, this you’re sure of. You slowly scan over each of the five boys, pretending to think objectively. Eventually your gaze lands on an empty bottle of soju on the middle of the coffee table.

“I think it’s Yonghee.” You shrug.

The room is silent for a second, all five boys seemingly pondering the answer that you gave. Yonghee’s cheeks bloom a brilliant pink, spurred on further by the amount of alcohol in his system.

Seunghun just nods, taking another shot of soju. “You’re kind of right. Yonghee has always been the pretty one.”

The mentioned boy’s cheeks flush an even deeper pink, if possible. “That’s not true,” he mutters.

“It kind of is,” Hyunsuk chimes. “You always get random numbers from girls, even when we go to like the grocery store.”

“Like I said,” you cock an eyebrow teasingly. “No one can compare to the Kim Yonghee.”

By now, Yonghee is shaking his head, making every attempt to calm his pink cheeks. Jinyoung must find it endearing, because he reaches over and pinches the flesh, letting out small coos.

“Okay, but like, Y/N,” Hyunsuk starts again. “Who is second place?”

Although you can tell this is going to be a long night, you wouldn’t have it any other way. When you do the work that the six of you guys do, decompressing on a Friday night is much needed.

It started within the first month of you all working under Adonis, high school besties turned organized crime dream team. When Jinyoung disassembled his first human body, he called for a meeting on a random Friday for emotional support. It’s been a tradition ever since.

By now, it’s gotten a lot easier, the torture and murder. Well, it’s as easy as torture and murder can get. Those of you with the stronger stomachs do the more physical work, and those who are more squeamish work behind the scenes.

Seunghun and Jinyoung work hand in hand when it comes to torturing information out of the prey. Seunghun’s specialty is psychological torture, getting close to the prey’s loved ones and using it against them in moments of weakness. Jinyoung, on the other hand, works purely physically. You’ve seen him break bones like glow sticks without batting an eye.

You prefer the physical work once the prey is actually dead. That means most of the time you’re on body disposal. As a chemistry whiz in high school, you’ve known how to completely dissolve a body in hydrochloric acid since you were 15. If only you knew how much it would come in handy in the future.

Before all of the torture begins, though, someone has to lure the prey into the trap. That’s where Byunggon and Hyunsuk come in. They work as yin and yang, playing good cop and bad cop to both intimidate and provide a sense of security to the prey. Once the prey trusts a little too much, and is a little too comfortable with Hyunsuk’s smile, Byunggon swoops in, letting the chloroform do the work.

The only one who works completely behind the scenes is Yonghee. Sweet, innocent Yonghee pales at the sight of blood, but beams in front of a computer screen. More often than not, he keeps Adonis, Inc. running. He legitimizes all of the documents, wipes the security cameras, and leads any wandering eyes through a confusing hole of technological bullshit.

It’s the least he could do as the heir to the Kim throne.

. . .

Two hours later, the six of you are each in various states of drunkenness, strewn about Seunghun and Byunggon’s shared apartment floor. Their apartment was where you all had always decided to throw your end of week celebrations, but something about tonight has the place looking a little messier than usual.

Maybe it’s the fact that Jinyoung spilled soju on the carpet, twice. Or the fact that Hyunsuk has finished his third bag of chips, and hasn’t picked up any of the wrappers. Even Byunggon has crumbs on the side of his face.

But the messiness seems to match the aura of the night, fueling everyone’s mood. Seunghun keeps looking around anxiously, as if there’s something that’s threatening to burst out from inside him. You hope it’s not vomit.

“Guys, are we really going to do this for the rest of our lives?” The boy questions with a drunken lilt to his words, making them slur together. “Are we going to be cutting up bodies at 50? 60?”

Yonghee snorts. “Some of us don’t have a choice.” Even though he’s tipsy, you can still detect the grief in his voice.

“None of us have a choice,” Jinyoung reminds. “This isn’t a life we can just quit. We knew that before we even started.”

Seunghun’s signature pout takes hold on his face, making him look like a kicked puppy. You always wonder how Seunghun, someone who looks as sweet as he does, can live a life like this. What kind of internal darkness is housed under that mask of sincerity?

“I know, but being around the boss is so draining. He can be so fucking demeaning!” Seunghun’s eyes are red and glossy from the alcohol. “Spending so much time with him drives me crazy.”

You nod understandingly. Being around Kim Jaeyong is nothing short of a nightmare. He’s entitled, cocky, and all too harsh, even when dealing with those who have his back. Even the way he treats his own son is appalling, but you guess that’s the consequence of having so much power.

Kim Jaeyong can end lives with a snap of his fingers, and everyone around him knows that. So no one steps forward, no one takes a stand against him, and no one ever dares to cross him, leaving his power unchecked and absolute.

Seunghun continues, fueled by anger and hard liquor. “It gets so hard to have to deal with his sadistic mind all of the time. One time he said that he likes killing people because it makes him feel like a god. He told me that’s why the business is called Adonis. Who the fuck likes killing people?”

Yonghee doesn’t look up from his lap, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t make any move to defend his father. He knows he can’t. His father’s actions have been heinous long before Yonghee was born, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I hate that he thinks of himself as a god. I hate that he thinks he’s so untouchable. Why can’t he show us a little respect? We do so fucking much for him.” Jinyoung’s voice is laced with venom.

“Imagine how I feel,” you say bitterly. “Getting catcalled all day at work isn’t exactly a dream job.”

The dichotomy of working in crime and working for a friend’s dad is a weird one. On the one hand, you expect the lewd, inappropriate manners in which business is conducted. On the other hand, you still have your expectations of being treated like a friend, like family, even. But Kim Jaeyong treats you like a piece of meat.

“Still?” Seunghun throws his hands up frustratedly. “I told him to stop that shit ages ago. I can’t believe he’s still harassing you.”

Hyunsuk rolls his eyes, crumbs staining the left corner of his mouth. “Well it’s not like there’s anything we could do about it. He’s never listened to us. Plus, the man’s not dying anytime soon, so it’s not like we’re changing leadership.”

There’s silence for a moment, weaving in between the bodies in the room in a swirling haze. The glow from Seunghun’s overhead lamp is reflected in Jinyoung’s eyes. Sinister. That’s what his gaze is.

“What if we could?” The boy asks. “What if we could change leadership?”

Byunggon groans in annoyance. “What are you on about now? Hyunsuk just said it, we’re not changing leadership anytime soon.”

“Yeah, but what if we could,” Jinyoung stands up, swaying slightly from the alcohol. “What if we could change Adonis’ leadership?”

Seunghun’s brows furrow, and he shares a confused look with Hyunsuk. “How would we do that?”

Jinyoung lets out a short chuckle. A smirk has taken a hold on his lips, turning them upwards slightly.

“We can take Kim Jaeyong down...all by ourselves.”

[Part Two]

#cix imagines #cix #complete in x #lee byounggon #lee byounggon imagines #escritos #panacea

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dukearchive · 4 years ago

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When the Moon Found the Sun

By Skyler Graham

PART I: THE MOON I’ve always been fascinated with lights: Christmas lights, street lights, illuminated advertisements surrounding the skyscrapers of uneasy cities. There is something comforting about these contained fireworks, something calming yet invigorating in sustaining hope in the darkness. This light, however, may also be a destructive force. As my mother grew in her career and my father fell in his, tension in the house became the firecrackers of a once glowing family. No lights, just jolting explosions of anger. I felt my dad giving into his insecurities, allowing his wife’s success to feast on his ego. Yet, rather than establishing a sense of equilibrium, he became the guilty victim of female domination. No job turned into no friends. When you only have one adult to socialize with, conversations turn into arguments. A joker turns into a hermit. I spent winter months silencing their screams with a complete infatuation with the fireplace. I focused all of my energy on the flames; if I could match my breath with the rise and fall of each quivering light, perhaps I could stay distracted long enough to forget why I needed a breathing tutorial in the first place.

But the screams only continued. My mom kicked the garage door shut, one hand grasping a cup of ice and the other a bottle of Tito’s. “Don’t worry about it, asshole. Just stay in the house, like you do all day, while I’m out working for this family.” “For this family? You’re never home!” This had become my parents’ daily routine: ignore each other throughout the day, argue about familial obligations and financial irresponsibility, anesthetize the anger with liquor, wake up, and repeat. Wash, rinse, repeat. I distracted myself at school; I focused on wall clocks and bus windows and half-completed math worksheets with lyrics doodled across the page. I stared into spinning washing machines and living room rugs and TV screens and interstate billboards. I stared out the window on every car ride, untouched by the heat rising from arguments at home. When I was sixteen, I glared at the bathroom mirror, finding only the reflection of a reckless dreamer with a warring psyche. My parents were in marital purgatory by this time; they knew the end was approaching, but they were still trapped in the same house by laws and loans and realtors. They were too occupied with hating each other, though, that my reckless bursts of naivety went unchallenged. My worries embraced a pair of scissors and a box of bleach. “Damn,” I whispered. “Now I look like a fucking Wal-Mart brand Kurt Cobain.” It was nearly one in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep. The light of the full moon radiated on the cigarette butts and stolen jewelry resting on my windowsill. There’s an everlasting magic to moonlight; not merely in its aesthetic brilliance, but in the effortless coexistence of the sun and moon. I admired how the sun highlights his lunar partner, allowing her to carry the tides and sustain hope in the darkness. He asks nothing in return. And the moon, shining on my orange-blonde head, willingly hides in the morning and allows the sun to warm the earth; she asks nothing in return. Their sacrifices are not of hopeful reciprocity, but a selfless balance of their earthly children. I lit a white candle and kneeled by my window. “God, or gods, or whatever powers control our universe, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am, or who I’m becoming. I know, I’ve been acting out lately. I guess I’m just confused. But I need some type of balance; I can’t keep pretending like it’s okay — like I’m okay — when I want to be there for my family but I’m always put in the middle and I have no one to talk to and I’m scared of what Mason thinks and—” My mom came in and sat on the edge of my bed, the home of my nightmares and tear-stained pillowcases. Ignored the candle. “I can’t do this anymore, Steph. I can’t — everything I do is for you and your brother. I want to be home with you guys more, I do, but I can’t when he—,” her tears stifled her cries. But it didn’t matter — I knew what she meant. I knew what she felt. I could read her fearful despondency and immediately understand her confusion. How did her marriage end up like this? How could she escape? I didn’t know if my empathy was purely intuition or something greater (or if there’s a difference), but I knew she was desperate for change. I blew out the candle as she shuffled through the doorway. “So Mote It Be.” *** After my dad moved out, my mom introduced me to our next-door neighbor, Mike. He had lived next to us for months, but the only thing I knew about him was that his motorcycle, Jeep, and Mustang were cleaner than his soul. “Hey Mike, I’m Stevie.” A backwards snapback and graying beard looked up from his phone. “Oh, hey — yeah, your mom’s told me all about you. Said you might want to babysit my girls.” Great. This guy has kids? “Uh, sure,” I responded. “How old are they?” “Two and six,” he grumbled. “I love ‘em, but damn, it’s a difficult age.” I awkwardly laughed. “Yeah, just wait until they’re teena-” “Oh I know,” he interrupted. “I got another daughter about your age. We don’t talk much though.” My mom came out and proudly gestured to our backyard. “Look at what Mason did!” The grass was cut, the bushes trimmed, and the dirt stains on the fence were covered with a fresh layer of white paint. “Mike showed him how,” she said. “Mason, of course, complained the whole time.” She crossed her arms and looked away, squinting vaguely at the fruits of a renewed suburban paradise. “He would be used to all this work, you know, if your dad taught him better.” I hated that; the universal “Dad” had turned into “your dad,” as if he was an unknown figure in her life. As if they never met. I don’t know — maybe that was her way of hiding in the flames. *** PART II: THE SUN “Just let me know when you’re coming, and I’ll open the garage.” Mike invited me over that night, offering beer and a backyard bonfire in exchange for some company. My mom and Mike had become good friends, sharing time, vacations, and secrets with each other. My mom was on a business trip that night and unable to console her friend. I, however, was in town, bored, and seventeen without a fake ID. I walked over to his house in the same tan dress and cowgirl boots I wore to a concert that night. He was sitting alone in the backyard staring at tattoos on his wrist. “Annabelle,” it said. Is that the older daughter? One of the younger ones? One of the mothers? What happened between them? I sat down next to him in a plastic lawn chair. “What’s been going on, man?” I knew he needed comfort. But I had to remain cautious. “My friend’s girlfriend has been texting me all night — crying to me, complaining about her boyfriend and all this other shit.” Mike handed me a beer. “I’d love to help her — hell, she’s only nineteen and needs some type of guidance — but I don’t mess with girls in relationships. Not something I’m tryna get involved in.” “Doesn’t it bother you that she’s, ya know, nineteen?” “Age doesn’t bother me — I like younger girls anyway. Once they get to a certain age, women just — aren’t fun anymore. Young girls are exciting, they want to go out, they want to try… new things. After about, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, they’re not interested. They’re not interesting.”

“We just understand each other. We’re going through the same things, we can joke around and go out and talk about anything,” my mom sighed and smiled, then briefly glanced down. “He just doesn’t want a relationship, I guess… but neither do I. We’re just friends. Just friends.”

Mike opened another beer. “Was he at least good in bed?” He was asking about my ex-boyfriend; Mike knew him and watched his minivan creep out of my driveway almost every Friday night that spring. I broke up with him that June after months of frustration with his insecurities manifesting themselves as emotional dependency. I was tired of giving more than having — I didn’t want to take anything, just have: have mutual friends; have kind conversations with each others’ parents; have a reciprocal love. There is magic to mutualism, a feeling that transcends the power derived from systems of domination. I guess some people aren’t prepared for that type of power. It’s easy to succumb to others’ control, and tempting to take that control for yourself. It is grueling, however, to accept the power that lies in its absence. “Honestly, no. It felt like it was always about him; whenever he came, we were done. It felt like my only purpose was to satisfy him. I always just wanted it to be over.” He poured a shot for me. “Don’t worry honey, it won’t always be like that. You just need a man with experience to treat you right. Find an older man, someone who knows what he’s doing.”

“But I trust him. Even if we’re not “dating,” I know I can rely on him. I know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me or you guys. Yes, he’s tough on your brother, but he’s just trying to teach him. He wants the best for you guys.”

I stared at the bonfire. I could look only at the bonfire. If I looked in his eyes, he would take it as an invitation. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “You ever watch porn?” Fuck. “My ex and I, we used to make our own,” he continued. “Wanna see?” I couldn’t see the flames anymore. I felt them rising to my face, but the flood of alcohol suffocated them. I couldn’t say no. It wasn’t really a question to begin with. And he wasn’t doing anything wrong, right? He didn’t touch me or make me do anything, right? Why am I so worried? I thought, I can trust him. I can trust him. Can I trust him? The flames kept growing. I handed back his phone, a drunk half-grin on my face. “Nice. A fine piece of cinema, Mike.” He ignored my sarcasm, as expected. He stood up and motioned toward his bulging crotch. “Look what you did to me, Stevie.” The flames were now in my cheeks and knees and hands and I couldn’t escape. He stumbled toward me. “All this sex talk, you got me feeling different.” I laughed. He didn’t. He looked me up and down, his hands in his pockets. “You know, if you weren’t my neighbors’ daughter, I would so have sex with you right now.”

“So nothing happened?” I asked, “And you guys were staying in the same room?” My mom sighed. “Nope. Nothing on New Years’ either. Whatever.” She stirred her drink. “I just don’t understand — what is it about me? Why don’t guys like me?” I felt her concerns, a nauseating red-green-blue energy pouring from her soul. “Don’t worry about them,” I explained. “Most guys are assholes anyway. You don’t need them.”

I walked back home. It was 7:00 AM. The moon was out of sight, her solar partner taking control. *** “Thanks for hanging with Mike, by the way,” my mom said after she got home. “I know he was feeling down and just wanted someone to talk to.” “Yeah, of course. We had a good time.” Mason looked up. “No kidding, you didn’t come home until five in the morning.” My mom’s eyes went cold. The red-blue aura had returned. “You what? Why? What were you guys doing?” The flames were back. This time, they were ashes swirling in the pit of my stomach. “Nothing, just talking.” “Talking about?” “I know I don’t need them; I’m better off without your dad than I was with him. But it’s still nice to have someone — you know, someone you can trust and talk to without any tension.” I watched my mom’s emotion shift to a pale yellow. She put down her drink and looked at me with hope shining through her eyes. “And I feel like that’s what I have with Mike. I know, we’re not “dating”, but things could turn around.”

I exhaled. “Nothing.” *** “Dinner’s here, just come in when you’re ready,” my mom texted me. I walked over to Mike’s to grab a slice of pizza and leave; I did not want to be back in that house any longer than I needed to. My mom still didn’t know what we talked about — what he talked about — and neither Mike nor I had the heart to tell her. I walked in to my mom playfully laughing at one of Mike’s jokes. The ashes began swirling. He didn’t care. She didn’t know. I walked in to both of them ignoring my presence, one out of infatuation and the other out of arrogance. Or fear. The flames started rising. No “Hello,” no “How was your day?”, no “Sorry I hit on you despite the fact I’m old enough to be your father and your mom is obviously obsessed with me.” Nothing. The fire kept burning. Mike finally put down his pride long enough to acknowledge me. “Hey Stevie, could you run out to the garage and get me another beer?” The fires are rising higher and higher Uncontained Unrestrained I stomp into the garage. I grudgingly open the fridge and my elbow knocks over his “bar.” The Mustang. There’s vodka and whiskey and cheap mixers all over the hood of that damn Mustang. Maybe if you spent less time worrying about your vehicles, Mike, you could see the truth. You could see what I see. The fires are now swirling, exploding from the inside out. I can feel it in my stomach and chest and hands and feet. I harness it, however, and focus on the car. I focus on the flames. I focus all my energy — all my anger and resentment — on sparking the conveniently flammable coating of his prized possession. I watch the fire rise and fall, then rise again, then spread through the window into the car’s interior. She’s melting, Mike, and you can’t save her. I can’t hear your screams, either, as I am consumed by the flames. Consumed, but in control. Finally taking control of all of my worries, all of the anxieties I hid with bleach and stolen jewelry. I can harness this energy under the guiding moonlight. Some of us can maintain harmony with our souls and our surroundings. And some of us — most of us — aren't prepared for that type of power.

#fall2020 #prose

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oskea93 · 5 years ago

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Why Can’t I (2)

Hey guys! I just want to thank you all for reading this story! I greatly appreciate it. Please let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged, let me know as well!!

WARNINGS: LANGUAGE

“Can we just stay here forever?”

The warm tropical sun beat down from the crystal-clear sky, baking those below it. “Let’s just move here and become island people.” Bryn spoke. “We can get jobs showing all the tourist around, maybe become bartenders or something.”

“Mmh.” I moaned out, repositioned myself on the towel I was laying in. “You only know how to drink alcohol. You don’t know how to serve it.” Bryn let out a scoff. “Plus, you love New York too much to leave.”

I lifted my sunglasses to the top of my head, shifting my body into a sitting position. We had been on the beach for almost three hours. Three hours of sunbathing and listening to Bryn ramble on about random things was getting to be a bit much. “Where you going?” She looked my way.

I brushed the sand off my legs as I stood up from my towel. “I’m gonna get a drink; Do you want one?” She nodded her head, telling me that she wanted a Tequila Sunrise. After waking up with a hangover and having no recollection of what happened last night, her first drink request of the day was a drink with two types of alcohol. “Maybe you should start off easy, like with a water.” I suggested. Her face contorted as if I had just insulted her. “You could get dehydrated and I really don’t feel like dragging your ass back to the hotel again. I’m pretty sure I pulled a back muscle or something from last night.”

I watched as she hastily turned over on her back, throwing both her arms over her head in dramatic fashion. “I want a Tequila Sunrise, dammit!” She exclaimed. The people around us once again looking in our direction. I rolled my eyes, pulling my sunglasses out of my hair and back onto my face. I didn’t bother telling her yes or no, simply walking off toward the bar. Of course, I was gonna get her the stupid drink. I didn’t feel like hearing her bitch and moan if brought her a back a bottle of Evian.

I made my way to the bar, taking a seat beside an older couple. The bartender was tending to the other patrons, giving me time to see what I wanted. I was never one to drink. I drank a few beers here and there, choosing not indulge in the hardcore stuff. Don’t get me wrong, there have been times where I’ve drank straight from a Johnnie Walker bottle, but I was usually having a bad day. “You know the Blue Lagoon is really good.”

I jumped at the sound of the voice, my head whipping around to see the owner. “You’re super jumpy.” Duff laughed, taking his seat beside me. I didn’t even see the older couple leave, allowing the seat to become vacant. “Maybe you just need a shot of Vodka.”

“Do you get some kind of thrill of sneaking up on people?” I asked annoyed. The smile stayed on his face as he shrugged his bare shoulders. I rolled my eyes, turning my attention back to the list of drinks.

“What can I get you, miss?” The bartender asked, placing cocktail napkins down on the bar in front of Duff and I.

“Can I just get a beer, please.” He nodded his head.

“You, sir?” His attention turned to Duff, who was in the middle of lighting a cigarette. I listened as Duff ordered a bottle of beer as well. The bartender moved away from where Duff and I were, retrieving two bottles of Red Stripe.

“Cheers!” Duff lifted his drink, waiting for me to do the same. I looked over at him, a small smile forming across my face. I let out a sigh, lifting my drink at the level of his. “Cheers.” A smirk formed across his face as he brought the bottle to his lips. I watched as he guzzled down the beer, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart started beating a little faster, a feeling of the unknown filling my veins. I barely knew this guy and he was having this kind of effect on me. My own fiancé never had this kind of effect of me and we’ve been together for almost two years. Any other guy I would have forgotten about. I would have forgotten their name, what they looked like, or that they even existed. I would just consider them some guy that I met at the bar, but Duff was different. I remembered his name after only meeting him for 20 minutes the night before. I remembered what he looked like. And I definitely remembered that he was real and that we were on the same, small island.

“So-” Duff began to speak, breaking me out of my thoughts. “What’s your plans for today, Molly?” My fake name rolled off his tongue as if he knew it was lie. “That’s not your name, is it?” He questioned, scooting closer to me. My heart was beating like a jackhammer at this point. He was so close that I could smell the scent of cigarettes, booze, and a certain cologne that I would eventually fall in love with. “No.” I replied softly. I turned my head to look back at the bar but his fingers curled under my chin, turning my head back to face him. If I was a cartoon character, my heart would have literally exploded out of my chest at this moment. Another scenario would be that I would just turn to a puddle of goo and fall to the floor.

“What’s your real name?” His fingers still hooked under my chin, his face even closer to mine. Any other girl would have slapped his hand away, probably throwing their drink in his face seeing how forward he was being, but I wasn’t like most girls. “Lauren.” I spoke. “Lauren Fredrick.” It was as if everyone at the bar had disappeared and it was just him and I.

The smirk from before reappeared on his face, “Does that ring on your finger mean anything?” I looked down at my engagement ring, the diamond sparkling in the sunlight. My body shivered as his fingers lightly trailed down my neck, his hand finding its place on my thigh. I looked down at the callused hand, watching as he moved his thumb moved softly back and forth on my skin.

“Lauren!”

I jumped in surprise as Bryn’s voice snapped me out of my erotic thoughts. I quickly pushed Duff’s hand away, almost falling off the stool. “Lauren, what the hell?” Bryn walked up to me, side-eying Duff the entire time. “What are you doing?” She whispered in my ear, wedging herself between Duff and I. I looked over her shoulder and over at Duff. He had his attention turned to those around the bar, sipping on his drink ever so often. “Lauren!”

I looked back at Bryn, shrugging my shoulders, “What?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips, “You were supposed to be getting drinks, not fucking around with strange men who aren’t your fiancé.” I rolled my eyes at her statement. “Isn’t that the guy from last night? The one you weren’t interested in since it was only “a random guy at the bar.” She air-quoted the last part.

“We’re just talking.” I whispered back. “Nothing’s happening between Duff and I.” Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

“You know his name; you know his fucking name?” She harshly whispered, going into one of her freak out moments. “You’re not supposed to know his fucking name, Lauren.” My eyes once again drifted back to Duff. His posture was relaxed, another bottle of beer sitting in front of him. “I think it’s time for us to go.” Bryn announced. “You need a cold shower like right now.” Duff looked over at us, watching as Bryn pulled me to my feet, gathering my things in the process.

“You’re leaving?” He asked. Bryn rolled her eyes at his question, tugging on my arm.

I was being pulled in two different directions, one physically and the other emotionally. “Listen dude-”Bryn began to speak before I could. “My friend here is engaged to be married to a up-and-coming powerful business man. She doesn’t need to be romanced by a guy that probably doesn’t have two pennies to rub together.” This time my jaw dropped to the floor. “So just back off and leave her alone, okay.”

Duff stayed silent, his jaw clenched, trying his best not to stoop to Bryn’s level. I felt totally embarrassed by Bryn’s response. She had no idea what was going on and for her to act that way towards him was uncalled for. Even though she was my best friend, I didn’t want to be anywhere near her right now.

“Stop being such a fucking bitch, Bryn.” I yanked my arm out of her hold. “You have no fucking right to talk to him like that; you’re not my mother.” Everyone at the bar was once again staring. I could see that my words had stunned her. She was speechless but I could also sense the anger that was building. After all, Bryn was a natural red head and that anger was always bubbling like a volcano that was moments away from erupting.

I yanked my sunglasses and wallet out of her hands, stepping back to where Duff was. “I’m staying with my friend here and I don’t give a shit what you think about it.” She looked between Duff and I, glaring at the man longer than necessary.

“Whatever.” She muttered annoyed. She turned around and started walking back toward the pool area. A part of me wanted to follow her and tell her I was sorry for yelling the way I did, but I didn’t. She was the one that was in the wrong. She was the one who showed her ass and it ended up backfiring on her.

I let out the air I didn’t realize I was holding in, suddenly feeling like shit. “You okay?” Duff placed his hand on my shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

I shook my head, “No.” I answered honestly. I spun around on my bare heels, coming face to face with the blonde. “I need a stiff drink.” Duff’s face instantly lit up at my request. He held out his hand for me to take. “I think I can help you with that.”

#duff mckagan #duff mckagan fanfiction #duff mckagan imagine #duff mckagan x OC #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses

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largebeeffriedrice · 6 years ago

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Choose Your Deity Carefully - Chapter 2

Also on AO3 if that floats your goat more.

Chapter 2: Terms and Conditions

There's a 90's country song that goes something like, '...before I know it Saturdays gone, but it's Sunday now and you can bet that I'm alright.'

Indeed, the Sunday following my run in with Loki was quite uneventful. Which was marvelous for me.

I'd stayed in my apartment and nothing bad happened to me. My cable didn't cut out, all the neighbors were surprisingly quiet, and someone even ordered a pizza that I got because somehow the driver had the wrong address but also somehow had an extra pizza.

That last one I was very suspicious about and wondered if my potential new deity had anything to do with it. If he had then I was pretty prepared to accept becoming a worshipper. My only problem was that I was still a skeptic and wanted proof that this act was tied to him.

Especially since he didn't seem like the type to do good will favors or at least not without some fanfare. Even if it was just to convince me to convert.

But by Monday, I was back to dragging my feet and attempting to not cry at every misfortune that befell me.

The bakery I went to every Monday was closed due to a handful of health code violations, my bus drove right by my stop, and the sole to one of my flats suddenly started tearing away. Forcing me to walk to work with my stomach growling and my foot aching from the continuous slap of my sole smacking into my heel with every step.

I tried to reason that this is just stuff that happens to people.

Especially stuff that happens to me. But it was just getting more and more unusual how much happened in one day. Even one week. Hell, I'd go so far as to even say a month!

But I'd be damned if it didn't make me more tempted to take up Loki's offer.

The temptation rose when Megan from accounting visited me on the third floor to ask me again how to spell my name and, "Oh, weird. I'm not even showing you on the payroll now."

It reached its climax when I went to go take my lunch and found that someone had eaten all of my food before putting my empty lunch sack back into the fridge with a note that said, 'Should have put your name on it.'

My full name was still visible on the wrinkled up bag.

After lunch, I had returned to my desk and started researching what I could about Loki and then, once I'd learned some mythology, started looking up what kind of offerings Norse Gods accepted.

I'd opened a couple different tabs from some sketchy looking websites but had to admit they seemed pretty detailed. Though some of the stuff went over my head--- was I supposed to actually find real dragon blood or just the incense?--- I felt confident that it would be easy to keep the trickster pleased with small tokens of worship. Who doesn't like alcohol and burying coins in exchange for good luck?

I was about to Google and see if there were particular prayers or something required of me when my computer screen suddenly went black.

I tapped, banged, and pleaded with the screen to come back on. I even unplugged and replugged in the tower to try and get the piece of shit working. But, inevitably, I had to accept defeat and call someone from IT to come look at it.

It was while I was waiting that everything fully cemented into my mind. Full acceptance of Loki's deal washed over me, as I realized that I was going to have to explain to some tech guy why I was looking up Norse mythology when I was supposed to actually be working.

Later that night, I set to work making a sort of altar spot for him in my living room. All of the blogs I'd seen had dedicated the color green to him so I went with it. I'd bought green candles, incenses, a tiny planting pot for whatever coins I found around the apartment, and a pretty fake plant.

The plant was really more for me but it seemed to fit on the crate I bought for all my worshipping needs so I left it there.

The faint aroma of burning meat started flooding my apartment as I lit the candle and incenses and carefully placed them away from the plastic leaves of my plastic hydrangea.

That was another thing I had ended up learning. Not from my computer but from the IT person sent to fix the damn thing. After she had tried to explain to me what was wrong with the computer, thankfully not a virus, she had then chatted me up on the content still sitting guiltily in my browser.

Apparently, she was a major history buff and had been more than pleased to tell me about how people would go so far as to burn meat as a form of sacrifice to the old gods. Something about how it symbolized their level of devotion since they were willing to give up valuable food to keep the deities happy.

It made sense after she explained it and I even agreed to talk to her more about it over lunch one day; partially because I wanted to know more and partially as a way to thank her for her willingness not to tell anyone that I hadn't been working.

Of course, I didn't really have money to go out and buy meat specifically for this so I had to accept the burning crisp death of a roast I'd planned to make for dinner that night. Maybe I'd ask for a favor that involved Megan from accounting since I felt like this was somewhat her fault.

But as the meat burned, the candles flickered, and the incense tickled my nose, I realized nothing was happening. I'd completely forgot to finish looking up what else I was supposed to do to actually summon Loki back to me. I should have asked the IT woman.

So, I did the only thing I had some knowledge of and kneeled beside the homemade shrine and bowed my head to pray.

"Loki. I don't even know what I'm supposed to say in a prayer. But I'd like to discuss the deal you offered me. Umm. Very interested. Thank you."

That was good. Right?

Still, nothing happened.

I stayed kneeling next to the altar for a few more moments before finally deciding to go check on the meat. The way my luck had been running I was risking sending my apartment up in a fiery blaze from my antics.

I rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks at the sight. My prayer had been answered.

Loki sat crossed legged on the island, staring worriedly at my oven, and mindlessly rubbing at his chin.

It is still not clear if he just happened to notice me standing there or if I had maybe made a gaspy noise, but his eyes suddenly flicked my way and he finally said, "Mortal, you know that you have a perfectly ruined piece of roast in here, right?"

'Yeah, it's a sacrifice or something for you."

The arched eyebrow look again, "How mundane and wasteful. We could have had that for dinner."

The annoyance that surged through my body helped me move into action and I stomped further into my kitchen to turn the oven off and 'save' the roast from it's burning coffin.

"Well, it's not like you told me how I was supposed to call upon you or anything."

He didn't respond as he continued eyeing the roast. Even as it sat burnt and black on the stovetop. I'd never been great at reading people but it almost seemed like he had a hungry gleam in his eyes.

It was enough of a glint that I decided to risk it and ask, "I can fix something to eat if that's really what you want?"

He licked his lips, slowly, before answering, "No. I don't have time for that now. We need to talk about you doing a better job as my acolyte."

How long had he been in here staring at the charred hunk of meat? I tried to think about how long I had been in the living room preparing but honestly couldn't remember.

"I haven't actually agreed to it yet."

"But you want to. I already know," his hands rolled around one another, causing a flash of green light to abrupt in the empty space between them. The light blindly filled the whole kitchen and then quickly faded to reveal a rolled up scroll.

As his right hand grabbed at the floating parchment paper, his shockingly green eyes finally looked away from the roast and pinned me with a fiendish smile.

Loki held the paper out to me and softly spoke, "This is the terms and conditions."

Hesitantly, I reached out and gingerly took the scroll from him. A thought flitted through my mind and briefly, I paused and wondered if I was technically accepting the offer just by taking the paper.

But curiosity was my worst enemy and I clutched the paper a little tighter and fully pulled it from his hand.

His mirthful expression only grew as he watched me unravel the scroll and scrupulously read over it.

"Wait. I thought I was the one asking you for favors?"

"I said that there would be times I would require acts from you. Those are just the ones that I know about ahead of time."

"You want me to help you gain how many new followers?! You are the same guy who attacked New York aren't you?"

This only earned me a quick scowl before the God of Mischief recovered and replied, "Yes, but look at the benefits."

"Literally the benefits of me helping you get that many worshippers are that you don't kill me. I could always refuse to not accept this deal and not die. Right?" I didn't wait for him to answer as something popped into my brain, "Why do you even need this?

What are you really getting out of 'helping' me?"

Loki tsked me and shook his head disdainfully as if I was stepping out of line by asking such a question. I gave him another second or two before it became obvious that he had no intention of clarifying anything.

I wish this had rattled me more than it did at that moment. But sadly I just accepted his silence and had gone back to reading over the terms and conditions. Letting myself get swept up into the whirlwind chaos of the God of Mischief.

"So, you don't have an actual church?"

"Ew, no."

"Where are people supposed to go to pray to you then?"

He childishly turned up his nose and crossed his arms, "Praying is terrible and I want no part of it. It's dull, unimaginative, and normal."

"How am I suppose to truly worship you then? How am I supposed to communicate with you when I can't find you?"

These were the right questions and his jade eyes fixed on me with a flare of excitement.

With a quick and loud snap of his fingers, a second scroll appeared in his left hand. He pointed at me with the rolled up paper and hissed, "Once you sign and agree to that paper, I will gladly hand over this list of everything you'll need to know for proper offerings and all the works. Plus, I'll go over how to send word to me."

My eyes narrowed and kept glancing back and forth between Loki's smug, long face and the scroll resting loosely in his hand.

Again, past me should have followed her gut on how shaken she'd felt at having heard that the actual required acts were being kept on a different paper for AFTER she sold her soul.

But whatever. I'm still here. For now.

"Are you actually going to kill me if I don't succeed with your side mission?"

'No. Too messy. I'm already in enough trouble. But I can make your life very miserable."

That obviously didn't sound promising but the allure of having a year of better luck somehow won out in my mind. If my death was messy then no way he would actually really commit to tormenting me forever. Right?

"Also, I don't have to have sex with you, right? If that's on that paper in your hands then I refuse."

An exasperated huff, "No. That's not on the paper."

"Okay then, God of Mischief and Chaos," I paused when he held a finger up as if to correct me, but he scrunched his nose up instead and motioned for me to continue, "Get me a pen and I'll agree to a year of being your lackey."

"Wonderful," another snap of his fingers and a pen apparated into my right hand, "this is going to be so much fun."

As I signed the document in my hand I noticed that a symbol had appeared in the section marked off for Loki to sign. It didn't surprise me that he'd use magic instead of his own hand but I couldn't make out what it was supposed to be.

"What is that symbol for?"

"It's my corresponding rune."

"Oh."

And just like that the ink of the paper glimmer and glowed in a golden aura before I had to slightly shake my head and blink rapidly. It looked as if there were double words on the paper and I couldn't figure out why my brain was hallucinating that.

Except my mind wasn't.

The doubled ink suddenly pulled itself together at the bottom of the paper and then slowly bled and trickled its way towards my left hand. I gasped and roughly started shaking my hand, trying to get it to let go of the scroll.

But my fingers held tight against my will and the wild shaking did nothing to deter the ink from continuing its path now towards the inside of my wrist. Once it had all gathered there the ink started to sizzle against my flesh and then evaporated completely by the time I could even release a pained howl.

Where the ink had just been there was now a seared version of "Loki's rune" resting on my pink and inflamed skin.

"What the hell!? I didn't agree to be branded!"

The God of Mischief laughed hardily at my indignation and even slapped his hand on his knee a few times.

The merriment ended just as suddenly as it had begun and in its place, an exhausted expression took over Loki's face. It was as if he'd aged a couple sleepless years in an instant. Dark circles rested below his eyes and some frown lines were a little more visible next to his mouth.

With a tired sigh, he held out the other scroll and murmured, "Hold on to both of those papers. They are going to be your best tools for the next year."

I'm not even sure what had happened to the pen--- and I never gave it any thought until just now--- but I reached out my right hand and tugged the paper quickly from him. Not wanting anymore more trickery tonight.

He simply arched another brow in amusement and then blinked out of existence.

Leaving me standing alone in my kitchen with a burnt roast and two old ass looking scrolls.

"Okay. So. That all happened," I muttered while making my way back towards the shrine in the living room, "Though I don't know what I'm going to do about work since I'm not allowed to have a tattoo."

With my own weary sigh, I blew out all the still burning candles and snuffed out what was left of the incense. Then I rolled the contract up and placed it neatly next to my new fake plant.

I'd intended to just leave the new scroll rolled up with the contract, and look at it tomorrow, but something tickled at that back of my head and wouldn't let up until I started to unfurl the parchment.

Sure enough, my hands began shaking and one of my eyes started to twitch rapidly.

"THIS PAPER IS BLANK, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

I had failed to consider that Loki was not just the God of Mischief. Not just the God of Chaos.

But most importantly... he was the God of Lies.

#loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fic #loki (marvel)#loki god of mischief #choose your deity carefully #chapter 2 #terms and conditions

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squirrelly831 · 7 years ago

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Taehyung Seven Deadly Sins: Gluttony

Masterlist

Words: 1823

They were sitting around the round table impatiently waiting for the next name to appear.

“You think Kook will be next to set a trial?” The red haired one wondered aloud.

“Kookie?” The black hair scoffed, “He’s still just a newbie. Surely not him. It won’t be nearly as fun to watch him torture someone.”

The red head let out a low laugh, “True, torture is the best part.”

Namjoon’s eyebrow rose, “Torture? Jimin, your last victim was in ecstasy when you devoured him.”

Jimin’s pale lips pulled to a smirk, “pleasure before the pain. Ripping the soul from the body is always the fun part. Their screams make me crave more.”

The orange hair chuckled and wrapped his arm around the brown-haired boy, “Kookie, you look sick.” He cooed. “You should get use to this. You’ll be devouring a soul before you know it.”

Kook swatted his arm away in disgust, “I’m not one of you.”

A silence fell over the group. All eyes watched Namjoon who was previously leaning back in his chair. Now, he was leaning forward, hands intertwined in front of him. His eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, but the others could see the anger radiating off his body. “Not one of us?” His voice was low. The others froze when they heard the underlined growl in his words.

Before Namjoon could say more, the double doors to the meeting room flung open and a girl stumbled in. She was carrying a file close to her chest as she stumbled through the room. Eyes focused on her feet as her body shook with each step.

Namjoon’s eyes were trained on her as a side smile formed. Kook watched her feeling pity for the girl. She stopped short near Namjoon and held out her quivering arms holding out the file to Namjoon.

Namjoon snatched it from her hands, “What did I tell you about entering without permission, Thalia?” He snarled.

Thalia jumped before giving him a low bow, “I’m sorry, master. It won’t happen again” she whimpered.

“Get out!” Thalia scurried out like a cat between its legs and the doors shut. Namjoon barely glanced at the file before he tossed it on the table, “All yours, Taehyung.”

The orange hair’s lips pulled apart as his demon like teeth were revealed. “Goodie.”

“Who is it?”

“Daniel Lin.”

A snap sounded and eyes went to the other brown-haired man, “I was hoping that one would be mine. He’s a greedy one. Only wants to have parties. Drinks like a fish and eats nothing that’s less than 100,000 won. His metabolism is so high he never gains the weight.”

Taehyung smirked, “Is that so? And you thought he would be yours, Hoseok? You know over-indulging is my specialty.”

“Get going Tae.” Taehyung disappeared in a cloud of smoke right after Namjoon told him to go.

Jimin stretched as he got out of his seat, “I’m going to go find my next toy.”

Namjoon nodded before Jimin vanished. “Get back to work. Jungkook-” Namjoon called out, “meet me in my office.”

“Don’t be too harsh on him, Namjoon. Kookie is still new” the black hair commented before he left the room.

“Mr. Lin, it’s time for your meeting with CEO—Are you drunk again?” Jaebum hisses seeing his boss’s head on his desk with a bottle of whiskey beside him. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he rolled the papers in his hand. “Wake up, you lazy shit head!” He swung and hit his boss.

His boss shot up and cursed, “Fuck was that for, Jae.” He hissed.

“Why are you sleeping at work? And drinking again, Daniel.” Daniel rolled his eyes and opened the whiskey bottle only for it to be taken. “No more alcohol! No more expensive food! You’re spend the company’s money! You are acting like a damn child.”

Daniel exhaled loudly and stood up, “I’m president of this company. Just because you are my best friend doesn’t mean I won’t fire your ass. I can spend the money how I want! It’s my company/” He stormed out, “Call me fucking limo so we can go to this fucking meeting!”

Jaebum bit his lip to keep his silence as he pulled out his phone to make the call. Once done he pocketed his phone and hid the whiskey bottle and candy jar filled with chocolate truffles. “So spoiled.”

When Daniel returned to his office it was dark. He sent Jaebum home and instead of going to his own place, Daniel decided to go to his work. He admired the things that filled his office compared to his home. He grabbed his phone and called the chef. He heard the ring repeatedly before a sleep filled voice answered, “Why the fuck are you sleeping?” He growled. The chef stuttered a response. “I didn’t tell you to go home! I demand a Fleur Burger in my office in ten minutes or you are fired.” He hung up his phone and loosened his tie, “Fucking Jaebum. Fucking people. Fuck everything.” He never even wanted to take over the business. He didn’t want to do anything. He wanted to party, drink, and eat whenever and wherever he wanted. “Where did he put my whiskey?” He mumbled as he searched his office. He eventually found the bottle pushed behind piled of printer paper. Daniel grinned as he opened the bottle as he sought out the glasses before he just drank from the bottle.

“Your assistant is a stick in the mud” Daniel jumped dropping his candy jar on the floor. The jar shattered as the candy spilled and scattered on the floor. He flipped the switch to the main room, looked back to his desk, and saw an orange hair guy in his chair leaned back with his legs on the desk. “Your chef is pretty shitty too. If you’re hungry, maybe I could give you something to help your hunger.”

“How did you get in here? Who the fuck are you?”

The orange hair eyes darkened as he bit his lip, “You can call me V. How I came in? Well through the door. How else would I? Magic?” V sat up on the chair, “Are you interested?”

Daniel growled, “In what? More whiskey because that shit was expensive. We had to import it asshole.”

V smirked, “I have something much better than that poor excuse of alcohol you had.”

Daniel let out a scoff, “My alcohol is the finest in the world” he held his nose up in the air. “I doubt someone like you could provide better.

V leaned over. His hands held his head as he looked at Daniel with brown eyes, “Oh, but my sweet. I can.” His eyes caught Daniels, “It’s something many humans never get to taste. Liquor that has the perfect taste that no human can recreate. Food that not even the richest person alive could taste it.” He licked his lips, “An endless supply of whatever food or drink ever imagined. Truly sinful.”

Daniel swallowed hard. His mouth watered at the thought, “Whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want” he verified as he held out his hands as he shrugged.

“Prove it.”

V chuckled as he stood from the chair, “With pleasure.” He snapped his fingers. The walls and office things melted away leaving an orange lit dining room.

Daniel drooled at the sight. A large table before him with layers of lavished food and layered cakes and pies with truffles. Every type of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverage imaginable. He felt like he was floating on air as he made his way to the food and took a seat at the single chair. He rubbed his hands together before he dove in and began to inhale the food. His eyes widened as he spit it out, “This taste like shit! What the fuck? You lied” he growled.

Taehyung held his hands up in defense, “I didn’t lie. It is sinful and no human alive has tasted it.” Taehyung traced the table as he approached Daniel, “But, I’m feeling nice. I can let you taste what no human alive has tasted.”

“How?”

Taehyung touched Daniels chin and turned his head to him, “Let me have your soul. Then you can stay here and eat till your heart—”

“Take it. Whatever!”

Taehyung’s smile grew, “You sure about that. I haven’t ev—"

Daniel growled, “Just fucking take it.”

Taehyung’s brown eyes turned red, “Well” he purred. “Since you insist.” Taehyung’s fingers gripped Daniel’s jaws, “This will only hurt for a second.” He pressed his lips to Daniels and pulled back. A gray shadow drew out from Daniel. His hands gripped the chair in agony as his soul was pulled out of him and devoured by Taehyung. Taehyung’s eyes returned to normal and he let Daniel go, “A bit salty, but thanks for the treat. Bon appétit.” Daniel immediately dug into the food in front of him and Taehyung’s lips curved into a side smile as he snapped his fingers. “Ah yes, I didn’t tell you this since you cut me off.” Daniel payed no attention as he continued to eat, “No matter how much you eat, you’ll never fill satisfied. You’ll always want more.” Taehyung walked away from Daniel still hungry for more souls. “Welcome to eternal damnation, my sweet.” The doors opened allowing Taehyung to leave before they shut again. His footsteps echoed down the hall before he stopped, “Why are you spying on me?” His voice was cold as his eyes glanced to his left. “If you want to be a better spy, you should hide your aura, Kookie.”

Jungkook appeared from the shadows. Black eyed and beaten, he looked down ashamed. “How can you live with yourself? Taking a human life.”

He smirked, “Humans are always going to indulge in sin. I need their sins to survive. Do you honestly care if I take their lives?” He let out a low chuckle. “You wouldn’t know much of being a human. How long were you one before Namjoon snatched your soul?” Jungkook’s hand squeezed his arm. “You’re right. You aren’t like us. You’re even greedier than a human. You deserve to be one of the damned.” Taehyung continued his journey back to his room.

Jungkook’s eyes were focused on the ground, “You’re right… I’m worse than any human and any of you…”

Taehyung stopped a short distance not feeling Jungkook’s aura, his smile fell as he fought the urge to look back. “What, Jimin?”

“Are you still hungry?”

Taehyung gave Jimin a fake smile, “Of course.” He looked down to his hands, “No matter how much I eat. I’ll never fill satisfied. We’re just as damned as our victims.” Jimin reached out to Taehyung, but he moved away too fast, “I should go. It’s my turn to observe the human world.”

Jimin’s hand tightened as he watched Taehyung leave. “Yea… we’re just as damned…”

-Moodboard and writing by: Squirrelly831

I know I said Himchan was next, but boy was his scenario giving me some troubles. So it’s pushed to a later date. Sorry!

Shout out and thanks to @foreverhamkke who is always a huge help getting my brain to start spinning out a story!!

If you like my work please like and share it!

#bts #bts moodboard #bts mood board #bts scenarios #taehyung #taehyung scenarios #taehyung moodboard #taehyung mood board #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop moodboard #kpop mood board #bts reactions #kpop reactions

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faustianexchange-blog · 7 years ago

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What’s Up Demons, It’s Ya Boys

For: somniiari Author: Wife-of-Queen’s-Watchdog Pairings/Character: Sebastian, OC, RC, implied Sebastian/Agni Warnings: alcohol mention Prompt: Modern AU Phantomhive twins as fake paranormal investigators, claiming their caretaker Sebastian is a demon. Author’s Notes: My attempt to modernize these characters may have made them a bit OOC, and due to the fact that we still don’t know much about Real Ciel (including his name), I had to get a little creative. i hope this is still enjoyable! It was a lot of fun to write!

“Hey guys – bro, come get in the video! Hey guys, It’s the Phantomhive twins again, back with another paranormal investigation video for you!” Two boys, nearly identical in appearance, appear on shaky video footage. The clip was obviously filmed on somebody’s phone, and the less enthusiastic of the two boys was half cut out of the shot. “This video’s gonna be a really good one, because we’ve finally gotten the opportunity to investigate someone we’ve been meaning to catch for a while. Now, Mom and Dad went out to, uh…” The boy who had been talking to the camera frowned slightly and turned to his brother, who smiled at him expectantly. “Where did they say they were going?”

“They went with Aunt Francis and Uncle Alexis into London for the weekend. I’m pretty sure they told us that like three times…” Ciel shrugged and grinned cheekily at the camera again. “Well, the point is they left us with this guy Sebastian, and we’re confident that he’s a demon. Now, we-” “-You’re confident that he’s a demon, I’m not totally sold on that.” Ciel was cut off by his brother’s interjection, and turned to him again. “You said you agreed with me!” “I said that because you wouldn’t stop talking about it and I thought it would get you to be quiet.” The boy looked at the camera disdainfully. “It didn’t.” Ciel Phantomhive sighed and clamped his hand over the camera lens and the clip cut off.

The next shot was similar to the last one, except this time Ciel’s brother was wearing a pained smile and was rubbing his shoulder where he had apparently been punched in an attempt to get him to play along. “Anyways, like I was saying. We’ve got good reason to believe that this Sebastian guy’s a demon. Bro, read off the evidence!” The other boy stopped rubbing his arm and whipped out his phone, turning it to show an outdated looking webpage entitled, “Signs of a Demon in Disguise.” “First, we’ve got ‘Aversion to Spirituality.’” Ciel nodded. “We’ve still got to test that one actually. Read the next one!” “Uh… ‘Alcoholism or Drug abuse.’” Ciel’s eyes lit up. “Oh, oh! One time, after our parents got back from some trip they were on where Sebastian was watching us, they invited him to have some drinks with them, and he did!” “That doesn’t mean anything. He was probably just being polite. That doesn’t mean he’s an alcoholic.” “But it doesn’t mean he’s not! Next point, please.” There was a pause while the voice of reason sighed in exasperation, then the words, “Supernatural Knowledge.” “Okay, so there was that time when you were scared that there was a monster under the bed, and Sebastian didn’t even have to look under there and he knew that there wasn’t. And then he was like “monsters don’t hide under beds anymore. These days they tend to wait outside the window for someone to fall asleep and then they come inside.’” “Ciel, that was you, not me! You were the one who was scared of the monster! And he was just messing with you! He was joking- AAAAHHH!”

Both boys screamed as the door behind them flew open and a tall, unsettlingly handsome man stood in the doorway. He looked surprised at their reaction, but then smiled wryly in amusement. “Telling ghost stories, are we?” the man asked. The video footage became extremely blurry as the camera was hurriedly pulled behind Ciel Phantomhive’s back. “N-No! We were just… playing a game!” “What do you want, Sebastian?” the boys responded, speaking over each other. Sebastian, perplexed, paused for a second before saying, “I came to tell you the frozen pizzas are done.” The boys were silent. One of them began to say “thank you” as the footage cut off.

The footage picks up with a view of the underside of the dining table, shaking slightly as the camera was held in secret under the table. “What’s the matter with you two today? You’re usually more rambunctious than this. Especially you, Ciel.” Sebastian��s voice, polite yet amused. There’s a stuttering clunk as two plates are placed on the tabletop. “We’re just…tired. Are you not having any pizza, Sebastian?” One of the boys asked. “No, I don’t eat this type of thing. I don’t see how you people do, either.” A boy’s hushed voice can be heard whispering, “You people…?” and was cut off by the other boy’s hurried “Shhh!”

The video blurs as the camera is retrieved from under the table, and is reoriented towards Sebastian, who has his back turned to the table as he washes his hands in the sink. There’s a zoom in on a strange tattoo on his hand. Ciel reached over to nudge his brother, then points at the older man’s hand. “What is that?” Ciel whispers louder than he meant to on accident. “What’s what? My tattoo?” Sebastian asked, turning back to the boys and frowning slightly when he notices the phone trained towards him. “It’s a pentagram, specifically the one we use as the logo of the band I’m in. You could have just asked, you know. No need to gossip.” Sebastian wipes his hands on a dishrag and sits down across from the boys. “Neither of you have touched your pizza.” He leans forward, placing his chin in his hands. “Why do I get the feeling you’re deathly afraid of me?” The footage shakes as the phone is hurriedly removed, but stops at the sound of Sebastian’s voice. “No, no, keep it out! We’ll pretend this is an interview. You two can ask me any questions you like, and I’ll try to convince you that I’m mostly nonthreatening.” The two boys look at each other, before hesitantly saying “…okay,” in unison.

“What’s your opinion on alcohol?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “My opinion on…? Neutral, I suppose. That’s a strange question to ask. I was expecting something more along the lines of ‘what’s your favorite color?’” A pause. “Well, what is your favorite color?” Ciel asks. Sebastian gives a short laugh. “I don’t know how to describe it. It doesn’t have a name that you would understand.” The boys stare at Sebastian, who flashes brilliantly white teeth at them in a sort of half-smile. “Next question, if you please.” Ciel asks the next question. “What do you know about vampires?” The man thinks for a moment. “Can’t say I’ve ever met one personally. From what I’ve heard they’re delightful conversationalists, if a bit self-involved. Werewolves, on the other hand. Stupid, terribly smelly creatures. If you’ve met one you’ve met them all.” Both boys sit in shocked silence again. “You’re messing with us.” Sebastian only smiles.

Ciel’s brother finally pipes up. “What do you identify as religiously?” “Not applicable.” “Huh?” “I said, ‘not applicable.’ I’ve never given religion much thought. Don’t see a reason to. That’s an odd question as well.” Suddenly, Ciel hands his phone to his brother, and then runs into the next room, returning with a large book. He holds it out to Sebastian, who peers down his nose at it. “Do you know what this is?” Ciel asks. Sebastian frowns. “That’s the Bible. Why?” Ciel thrusts the book towards the man. “Take it.” Sebastian moves away from it, throwing up his hands, which are covered in tomato sauce. “Oh, no, I still have some pizza on my hands. Don’t want to ruin your parent’s book.” The boy holding the camera audibly gasps. “But you just washed your hands!” Sebastian, once again at the sink, turns to the boy and smiles brightly. “Must have missed a spot.” Ciel looks at his brother in alarm, and sits back down, still clutching the Bible tightly. “That’s really freaky.” The boy mouths silently. Sebastian chuckles, making both boys jump.

“I seem to have you boys convinced I’m some sort of monster. A being from another world, perhaps? Well, I can’t imagine what I could have done to put that thought into your little heads, but I’ll tell you this: My name is Sebastian Michealis, I have five beautiful cats, I enjoy cooking and experimenting with recipes, I can play three different instruments, and I have great respect for and other inclinations towards a wonderful, and might I add, highly religious man named Agni. If any of those facts about me seem particularly monstrous, I’ll have to admit that you’ve gotten me figured out, and for that I applaud you. If not, well, it seems I’m just one hell of an ordinary man.” The two boys glance at each other. “Point taken.”

The next shot is the same as the first, with the two boys standing in a bedroom. Ciel looks disappointed, the other boy looks smug, but they both appear a bit rattled. Ciel speaks first. “Hey guys. Uh, so we didn’t really prove anything like we wanted to. But, on the one hand, we did-“ “Bro, we didn’t accomplish anything. We’re not gonna post the video, so there’s no point in filming an outro.” Ciel sighs as he realizes his brother is right. The footage cuts off as the camera is suddenly powered down.

The final shot starts off dark, and just as it starts to seem like nothing else will happen, a single flame flickers to life. Its glow reveals that it is dancing on the fingertip of none other than Sebastian Michealis, smiling slyly. He bursts into a grin, and as this happens his eyes begin to glow red, as if they too are on fire. His hair blows around his face in an invisible wind, and his steadily widening smile gradually becomes pointed with shark-like teeth. The only audio is a crackling, howling sound, like a mix between a windstorm and television static. It increases in intensity as the flame grows brighter and the man on screen morphs into a monster, so slowly it isn’t noticeable as it’s changing, like the hands of a clock. Just as it can’t seem to continue any longer, there is the sound of a doorbell, and instantly Sebastian has returned to his human form, and the flame is extinguished. His surprise is replaced with a smirk, and he looks into the camera. “Parents are home.” His voice says, though his mouth doesn’t move. Footage cuts out. End of video.

#Kuroshitsuji #Black Butler #Ciel Phantomhive #Sebastian Michaelis #Astre Phantomhive #wifeofqueenswatchdog #somniiari #Ciel's Death Day 2018 #fanfiction #submission

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bughead-is-riverdale · 7 years ago

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Odd One Out Part 2 - Soulmate AU (Jughead x Reader)

Summary: After you find out that your soulmate has been intentionally hiding you connection for six years, you assume it’s because he doesn’t want you. Running away from the trailer park in distress, you find yourself on the Southside of Riverdale, in the heart of Serpent territory.

Approx. 1930 words

Part 1 here Part 3 here

“Ron...Ronnie? Pl... please can you come and pick me up?” you cried down the phone, your stammering the result of your erratic breathing. After your encounter with Jughead, your head had been clouded with too many emotions to focus on where you were running, you just wanted to get away from him, and now you found yourself wondering round a part of Riverdale that you had never set foot in before. You began to panic slightly as you guessed you were probably on the Southside, and consequently in Serpent territory.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Of course I’ll come get you, where are you?” Veronica’s voice was laced with concern.

“I... I... I don’t know where I am” you wailed down the phone, the pitch of your voice rising in accordance with your panic. “I was at the trailer park and then... Ronnie I think I’m somewhere on the Southside.” Your voice wavered, you had the sudden sinking feeling that you might actually be in danger.

“Okay honey, look around and give me a street name, or the name of a shop and I’ll pop it into Google maps and be with you in no time.” Veronica’s voice was steady and calm, you almost laughed as you realised she sounded exactly like your mother. You looked around helplessly. The streetlamps were just beginning to glow as the darkness of evening etched across the sky like spilled ink. You shivered as you realised that you hadn’t seen the sun set and suddenly felt even more vulnerable in the ever-growing darkness.

“Uhh –” you narrowed your eyes as you tried to read the name of the bar across the street from you through the persistently pouring rain. “I’m next to a bar called the Whyte Wyrm.” You heard Veronica inhale sharply and correctly suspected that you were right in the heart of Serpent territory.

“Don’t go anywhere; I’m coming to get you right now.” Veronica’s calm tone faltered slightly. You heard the screech of tyres down the phone just before Veronica hung up and felt comforted knowing that, at the speed Veronica usually drove, she was probably only five minutes away in any direction.

As you slid your phone into your pocket and looked around, your heart quickened as you realised that you were no longer alone on the street; a young man had just exited the bar across the road. He was clearly not the kind of person you should be alone with; you eyed his leather jacket nervously and suspected that he was probably a member of the Southside Serpents. His arms were more ink than skin, gang-like tattoos were etched all over his arms and neck, and his brown hair was so closely cropped that from a distance you had mistaken him for being bald. As you watched his gaze settle on you, an amused smirk flickering across his previously hardened expression, you decided to busy yourself with your phone again and pretended to be texting someone, hoping that he would lose interest and leave you alone. You were wrong.

“Hey sweetheart, you lost?” he hollered at you from across the road. You pretended that you hadn’t heard him and continued scrolling through your phone. You gasped as you felt someone touch your back, spinning around to see another guy in a leather jacket just behind you, grinning wickedly. The smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke hit you like a brick wall and you looked around the street quickly, noticing that two more guys had appeared from the shadows of the pub. The four guys had made a wide circle around you now, cutting you off from every direction like a trapped animal, you gulped. “You didn’t answer my question” the guy, who you suspected was the ringleader, purred again. “What is a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” His tone was verging on threatening, dragging out his words like a predator playing with its pray.

“I’m just waiting for my friend, she is coming to pick me up” you said evenly, trying to sound confident, but your nervous glance up and down the road betrayed your words. The men laughed.

“You don’t seem so sure about that, babe” another guy sniggered as he reached out and tried to grab you by the arm. At that moment Veronica’s black Mercedes screeched around the corner and stopped abruptly next to you on the road, the guys around you backed off slightly.

“Y/N get inside the car now” Veronica demanded, the driver’s window rolling down so you could see her furious expression. Noticing that the driver of the car was a woman, the guys scoffed and regained their gang-like exterior, their momentary surprise vanishing. The same guy reached for you again, but you wriggled out of his grasp and scrambled into the car. “Touch her again and I swear to God I will have each and every one of you shot” Veronica hissed, eying the group of men with a seething expression.

“And how are you going to do that honey?” one of them teased.

“Oh it is quite within my power, my father is Hiram Lodge after all” Veronica’s eyes glinted with amusement as she watched the men’s expressions change from arrogance to pure fear. Before they had the chance to utter another syllable however, Veronica had already sped off down the street, taking you in the direction of her place on the wealthier side of town.

Veronica didn’t say anything about what had just happened, or why you were in the Southside, or even why you had been so upset on the phone on the whole journey back to her house. In fact, her silence was unnerving you. You had always relied on her to fill your life with constant chatter and buzz; you suspected that the fact that she wasn’t doing that meant she had been really shaken up by the whole ordeal. As strong as she seemed, even Veronica Lodge got scared sometimes. It wasn’t until you had showered and changed into a pair of Veronica’s satin pyjamas that she asked you what had happened.

“Talk” she demanded, handing you a glass of wine and patting the spot next to her on her luxurious king-sized bed. You paused, unable to figure out where to begin.

“I found my soulmate – ”you began.

“You found your soulmate?” Veronica’s eyes lit up with excitement and she clapped her hands like a child. “Wait” she stopped, “it wasn’t one of those gang-members was it? Because I was really not getting the soulmate vibe...”

“No definitely not” you reassured her, “my soulmate is Jughead.”

“Jughead? Oh my God!” Veronica squealed, “that’s amazing! Wait, why aren’t you excited? I thought you liked Jughead?” her confusion was obvious, she couldn’t understand why you looked so crestfallen, you had always wanted a soulmate after all.

“He doesn’t want me” you mumbled, “he has known for six years that we were soulmates and he hid it from me all this time because he doesn’t want me.” The tears that you had tried to suppress itched in the corners of your eyes once more, threatening to escape.

“That selfish bastard” Veronica growled, “how can you not want your soulmate? God, that boy loves to be melodramatic.”

“Melodramatic?” you frowned slightly, confused by Veronica’s view of the situation.

“Yes, Jughead is the brooding type who doesn’t know what’s good for him. And we are going to show him exactly what he is missing out on.” You narrowed your eyes at your best friend, she was smiling at you innocently but the glint in her eye betrayed her.

“And how are we going to do that?” you asked sceptically. Veronica laughed as she disappeared into her walk-in wardrobe. She appeared a couple of minutes later with a black-lace mini dress and a pair of dangerously high stiletto heels. Handing them to you, she wiggled her eyebrows comically at your bewildered expression.

“It’s still your birthday, and I’m taking you clubbing!”

You held your breath as the security guard examined both you and Veronica’s fake IDs. Unsurprisingly, he lets you in without a blink, a present from Veronica’s dad; they were probably the best fake IDs that money could buy after all. Once you were both inside, your eyes had to adjust to the darkness, as well as the bewildering strobe of multicoloured lights on the dance floor. The club was crowded; people packed together, the smell of sweat and alcohol like a haze in the air. You already felt tipsy, the bottle of wine and vodka shots that you drank with Veronica before heading out had taken effect almost immediately and you had the sudden urge to giggle. The alcohol had given you a new air of confidence as well, your heavy makeup and unfamiliar outfit seemed to mould you into a new identity, and you could forget about everything for once and just have fun. Veronica pulled you over to the bar and slammed down a fifty-dollar bill on the counter.

“Eight tequila shots if you please, you can keep the change.” She winked at the attractive bartender and he grinned widely at her, glancing down at her tight-fitting dress as he grabbed a bottle of tequila, a salt shaker, and eight lime wedges from under the counter.

“How do you do that Ronnie?” you asked, four shots later.

“Do what?”

“Flirt so successfully” you giggled, “I’m sure guys would run for miles if I did.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Y/N, it’s all about confidence. And I can assure you, in that dress, you could flirt with any man here, they’ll practically fall at your feet.” Handing you yet another tequila shot, which you downed willingly, she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dance floor. You both danced for what felt like hours, taking regular breaks to buy more drinks, but by the time it reached closing at 3:30am everyone had been kicked out of the club, and you and Veronica found yourselves giggling on the street outside, completely intoxicated. Veronica phoned Archie, who had agreed to pick you up, and within five minutes his truck had pulled up next to you. You giggling stopped immediately however when a familiar figure jumped out of the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Y/N? Are you drunk?” Jughead demanded, clearly disapproving of your illegal activity. Under normal circumstances, you would probably have something witty to say, but your intoxicated brain just forced you into fits of giggles again.

“Yes Juggie!”you squealed, “and you can’t do anything about it” your voice slurred slightly and you poked him playfully in the chest. “I even danced with some random guys! I didn’t think you would mind though, I mean, just because my soulmate doesn’t want me doesn’t mean I’m repulsive to the whole male population, right?” Jughead was staring at you in utter shock, his lips parted and his eyes conveying concern for your intoxicated state. You began giggling again, but your laughter quickly broke into sobs and the tears that you had kept at bay all night finally blurred your vision and smudged your mascara. Jughead took a step towards you cautiously, his arms outstretched.

“Y/N, I can’t take you home like this.” His voice was calm but also guarded, like he was scared of rejection, or maybe he was just scared of the state you had gotten yourself into. You inhaled deeply, catching the familiar scent of him in the light breeze, he smelt like coffee and mint. That was the last thing you remembered before you passed out.

TAGLIST: @kelly27crickett @cjhorseback @rory-is-in-ravenclaw@littlefearsdoodles @happyyjensen @dr-tardis-who

#jughead x reader #jughead jones x reader #jughead jones #riverdale fanfiction #jughead imagine #soulmate au

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homo-noodles · 7 years ago

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.:Dream Daddy:. Robert x Dadsona "Tattoo"

Spoilers for Dream Daddy!!! Dream Daddy is an amazing game with beautiful art, clever dialogue, and lovable characters. I really recommend you check it out if you haven’t yet. This fanfic will have your personal dadsona with Robert; I tried my hardest to type this fic so it could work for any and all dadsonas, although there may be some exceptions. This fanfic is assuming you got an S rank on all dates with Robert, and you ended up with the good ending for him. (This means that you got 100% stuff correct when dating him). I tried my best to do the game justice, so I hope you enjoy. Thank you. (Be warned! This is a One-shot, meaning it only has one part and it’s finished, but it’s pretty long!) Since I can’t possibly know what name you gave him, your dadsona will be referred to as “(d/n)”, which stands for “dad’s name”.

(Besides the heavy spoilers, this fan fiction contains a head canon to Robert and Joseph's relationship, and Joseph's involvement in his cult)

_______________

"And what's this one from?" I asked softly as I gently traced my finger along the small scar on Robert's chest.

"Unicorn".

I laughed "Oh boy, can't wait to hear this story. I didn't know you had beef with a magical horse!".

Robert and I were laying together in his bed, the both of us shirtless and pantless. After a full day of spending time with one another, we decided to just relax in bed almost completely naked. It was way nicer to lay together in just our boxers; I loved the feeling of Robert's skin against mine. As we laid there, I pointed out the little scars on Robert's chest, asking him how he got them. Of course, he just made up stories for all of them, which to be honest....I really enjoyed. I loved hearing Robert's improve; it was really impressive. We've known each other for months, so I was always able to tell when he was lying. ...I mean joking. I've even started to pull some of my own improv tricks!

"Betsy and I were sitting together at the park at night, right at the edge of the woods. I was carving, ... simply enjoying the stars...when Betsy started to growl at something".

I smiled gently as I rested my head against Robert's bare shoulder, closing my eyes and enjoying the crazy origin story of just one little scar. I blushed faintly as I felt him start to stroke my hair as he spoke "...and as I got back on my feet, Betsy chased the unicorn halfway into the woods. When she came back, she had the its horn in her mouth! I've kept it ever since".

I looked up at Robert with a smirk and a raised brow "Oh really? Can I see it?". Robert smiled slyly "Hmm...I don't know...you've gotta be pretty special for me to show that to you". I jokingly whined "Awww...c'mon, Bobert~". He responded with a playful glare "I told you not to call me that". I giggled "C'mon, Bobert. We're literally laying naked together".

Robert chuckled with a roll of his eyes "Alright, alright. But tell no one" he then reached into a drawer sitting next to the bed; it was where he kept all of his wood carvings. He pulled out a long and slim piece of wood that was carved to look like a unicorn horn. Like always, it looked really awesome and very well done. "Wow...that's...beautiful!" I grinned and nuzzled Robert's neck, gently kissing the crook of it "You're so talented" I purred softly. He blushed at the compliment and sat the fake unicorn horn aside, wrapping his arms around me "I couldn't have done it without Betsy". I smiled widely, just enjoying the warm snuggles with bad dad.

I opened my eyes and remembered something "Hey," I spoke in a soft tone "When did you get this cool hand tattoo?" I asked, gently holding Robert's left hand. I've never questioned that tattoo until just now; I'm not sure why... I guess it never occurred to me. When I thought about it, it got me really curious.

Robert pulled his hand away, and I looked up at him in confusion. His expression was....very serious all of a sudden "Uh...a couple of years ago" he replied, definitely not lying....which was weird for him. I raised an eyebrow "What does it...mean?". He frowned, and I stared at him in surprise "Nothing" he grumbled, sounding uncomfortable. Now that was definitely a lie....but, it wasn't a made up story. When Robert 'lies' to me, it's only ever when he's making up some outlandish tale using his improvisational skills.

"Really? ...that's it?" I didn't know what to say....Robert hasn't acted like this since I first met him, which was almost half a year ago "It...just doesn't mean anything?". Then, out of nowhere, Robert pressed a deep kiss to my lips, gently pulling me close. My eyes widened in surprise, but they slowly closed as I melted against it. We laid there for a while just simply making out, until Robert pulled me on top of him and started to stroke my sides, eventually moving his hands down to the brim of my boxer briefs. I quickly pulled away, realizing what he was doing "W-Wait wait, Robert. Wait". He looked at me with an expression that held worry, but with a stern and serious twinge to it. I looked back into his eyes, giving him a concerned stare as I gently held his face "What's up with that tattoo? I know it's more than just a simple marking...I can tell by your expression".

He frowned again "I don't want to talk about it...". I sighed, feeling as if I was talking to Amanda. I didn't want to upset him, but I didn't want him to bottle up his feelings either. Alright, I'll just ask him one more time...and if he doesn't want to answer, I'll drop it. "Robert, are you sure? You know you can tell me anyth-".

"YES! I'm sure!" He interrupted me with an angered tone, glaring daggers at me. I looked at him in shock, feeling a painful feeling of hurt in my chest. He's...never talked to me like that before. This was the first time he's ever really gotten angry with me. I slightly moved away, feeling tears wanting to fall. Goddammit, I'm such a wuss... I felt bad; I didn't want to guilt-trip him or anything, I just couldn't help but feel awful.

As soon as he saw the tears, Robert's stone-cold expression instantly changed to soft "(d/n), I...I'm sorry...fuck....I shouldn't have..." He sighed stressfully as he pressed his hand to his forehead. I sniffled and wiped my eyes "N-No, ...I get it. It's okay. I'm a baby, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I...I don't have a right to ask you that question".

"No, (d/n). You do have a right. I trust you....I love you..." Robert argued "I'm just...very sensitive about that tattoo". "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want...you can tell me later...or never. It's okay" I quickly said, not wanting to be a burden. "No, I'll tell you. But...how about I tell you tomorrow. I'm really tired...and I think this conversation would be better if we were dressed and clean". I felt an almost non-existent smile tug at the corner of my lips "O-Okay...you're right" I leaned close and gently kissed Robert's forehead, before laying back down next to him and snuggling close. He pulled the blankets over us and wrapped his arms around me "Love you, (d/n)" he whispered softly, wanting me to know that he wasn't mad at me. I hugged him close "I love you too, Robert".

The next morning, I awoke to the feeling of Robert's arm gently around me. He was laying on his stomach, facing me, and I was laying on my left side, facing him. I smiled lightly and stroked his hair, loving the sight of his relaxed expression. Robert slowly opened his eyes and looked at me, giving me a tired smile "Morning" he muttered as he rubbed his eyes. I sat up and got out of the bed, stretching my arms out with a yawn. Before I could say anything, Robert sat up and spoke first "You gonna get in the shower.... So I can tell you about my hand tattoo afterwards?" he asked with a sarcastic and snarky tone.

I chuckled in amusement "Yeah, if you don't mind" I replied with a grin as I walked towards the bathroom. Robert sighed softly and looked at his scarred hand as I left to shower. He gently rubbed the top of his hand with his thumb, just staring at the black tattoo for a moment.

His silence was broken when his Boston terrier, Betsy, jumped up onto his lap. Robert grunted in unexpected pain as the small dog panted happily and licked his face "G-Good morning, Betsy" he said softly as he pet her head "Guess that means I gotta get up" he sighed as he gently moved the excited little dog off of him and got up to get dressed. _______________

As soon as I got out of the shower and dressed myself, I left the bathroom to find Robert. He was sitting on his couch drinking whiskey while Betsy laid next to him, her head rested in his lap. I sighed softly and sat down next to him, lightly leaning against his side "We don't have to talk about your tattoo if you don't want. I just...don't want you to bottle up your feelings, ...or lie to me". Robert ran a hand through his messy hair "It's alright. I trust you, (d/n). I'll tell you". I looked up at him and then looked down at his right hand, observing the mysterious, minimalistic sun tattoo.

Robert took a sip of his drink, cleared his throat, and sat the glass of alcohol down on the side table. This is the kind of thing that he would do to get ready to tell a long fictional story that he called the truth, but I trusted him to not lie to me. Plus, I could usually tell when he was making something up anyway.

"When Marilyn, ...my wife, passed away, I was in a pretty dark place. It's... part of the reason Val and I started fighting".

My eyes lit up a little. Okay. He's definitely not making this up; he never jokes about Marilyn. I stayed silent, letting him know that I was not going to interrupt, and that I was paying attention.

"Everyone in the cul-de-sac wanted to help, but I usually just kept myself shut away from them. The only people I ever talked to or hung out with was Mary... and..." he sighed quietly "Joseph".

I raised an eyebrow, getting kind of confused. Robert always acted weird whenever Joseph was around, or whenever I mentioned him. I think he's really nice; he was one of the first dads I met in the cul-de-sac, and he's always been pretty friendly. Mary and Robert have both acted very strange around the blonde youth minister, and I've never known why. Mary is his wife! She'd always avoid him to go spend time with Damien in the graveyard or Robert at the bar.

"Eventually... Joseph and I... started dating" Robert admitted quietly under his breath. I looked up at him in surprise, assuming that he's told that to almost no one, maybe only Mary...or maybe not? "I...don't even really know if I actually loved him... I was just... so desperate to be in a relationship again, and... he did help me feel better about myself. Just by a little". Robert rubbed the back of his neck "But uh... after a while, we decided to split up. He's married to Mary, and... I shouldn't have been in a relationship at that time".

I looked at him with a sincere and concerned expression; I could sense that he was close to tears. We sat there in silence for a moment, before I finally worked up the courage to say something "I'm....um..." I didn't know how to word it; I didn't want to be rude or ignorant "I'm glad you told me, Robert, ...but...what does...that have to with your tattoo?".

Robert scratched the side of his face "Right...erm ..." he looked as if he was trying to figure out how to tell me "I got the tattoo from...Joseph. It um...was kind of like a symbol of our relationship" he said this with a bit of unsureness "I just don't like talking about it because...it....reminds me of the tough parts of my life".

Something about what he just said was fishy, but... I didn't try to argue or pry. I just, accepted what he said as the truth; I trusted him. "Well, thank you for telling me, Robert. I hope it made you feel better?" I said, worried that he was upset with me. I felt relived when he looked at me with a faint smile "Mhm, talking about it helped. Now I never have to talk about this stupid tattoo ever again" he replied, reaching over to his glass of whiskey and taking a sip of it.

I smiled happily and rested against his shoulder. For the rest of the day, we mostly just relaxed. We watched TV at his place for a while, before going out to eat. After spending the whole day together, I eventually went back home.

The next day, I got a message from Joseph on Dadbook while I ate breakfast. I smiled and checked my computer, seeing that he wanted to hang out. I love spending time with everyone in the cul-de-sac; ever since Amanda and I first moved here, I've become great friends with all my neighbors. I gladly told him that I'd love to hang out.

"Sure thing! Do you have a time and a place in mind?".

In just a few moments, Joseph responded.

"I was thinking noon would be a good time! That sound okay? I thought I could take you sailing".

I thought about my fear of the ocean, hesitating for only a moment. I shrugged and quickly replied.

"Yeah! Sounds great! Should we meet at the bay?".

"Sounds perfect! I'll see you there!".

I kept my warm smile as I finished up eating, looking at the clock to see that it was 9:15 a.m. There was still a couple of hours till I had to leave, so I decided to watch Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers to pass the time.

When the time came to go, I got myself ready, getting an unexpected message on Dadbook. I quickly checked my computer, expecting it to be Joseph. My faint smile faded when I realized it was Robert.

"Hey, (d/n). Mary and I are heading to the bar. Wanna come?".

I sighed, feeling bad that I had to say no.

"Sorry, I can't. I'd love to, but Joseph invited me to hang out with him. Maybe you and I can go cryptid hunting tonight?" I suggested, wanting to make up for not being able to hang out.

It took a moment, but Robert soon replied with a simple "Sure". I felt kind of bad, but I knew he'd have fun with Mary, so I felt good that I wasn't completely leaving him alone.

Right before I left, I messaged him a quick: "Love you". _______________

"I just needed to get away from the house for a while. The sea is always so relaxing; the calming waves, the oceanic fragrance, and even the seagulls" Joseph spoke smoothly as he looked to the cloudy, blue sky.

I smiled, the both of us sitting in lawn chairs on Joseph's yacht "True... but the whales...". Joseph let out an amused chuckle "Oh c'mooon, The whales aren't going to bother you! Just enjoy the beautiful sea!". I giggled "Maybe you're right. Thanks for having me, Joseph. This is a lot of fun!".

The religious dad looked towards me and smiled "Of course! You're my good friend, I'm always glad to have you". His eyes lit up, as if he had gotten an idea "Hey, there's some wine down in the bedroom of the boat. Think you could grab some glasses?". I nodded "Sure. Be right back" I got up and walked off, going down to the room Joseph was talking about.

I stepped into the room, seeing clothes strewn about around an untidy bed. There was a wardrobe full of different things such as books and boat-themed items, along with a coffee table that had a bottle of wine and some wine glasses sitting on it. Curious, I passed the table and stepped up to the wardrobe, deciding to do a little snooping. Okay, maybe 'snooping' isn't the right word.... Robert's antics has definitely rubbed off on me.

Searching through the shelves, I found some bibles, some ocean-aesthetic trinkets, and even some photos. I picked up the pictures and looked through them, seeing that most of them were just captures of the dads in the cul-de-sac, or Joseph and his family having fun. There was one photo that caught my attention though. It was a picture of Robert....wearing a very familiar blue sweater. I quickly realized that it was Joseph's...and this picture must've been from when him and Robert were dating. I instantly felt bad for looking through Joseph's stuff, so I quickly put everything back.

I started to leave the room, but I jolted in surprise when I slipped on an empty wine glass that was sitting on the floor. I fell backwards, letting out a shocked yell as my back slammed into the wardrobe, slightly shaking the wooden furniture. I fell to the ground, getting sore quickly "Ahg..." carefully standing up, I brushed myself off and nervously turned around, hoping I didn't ruin anything.

Something instantly caught my eye. I looked up to see an odd looking book sitting on top of the shelf. I raised an eyebrow, wondering if I should take a look or not. With curiosity getting the best of me, I reached up and grabbed the dusty ol' book, gently brushing it off. It had dark grey front and back covers with aged pages, and a black symbol on the front. It was the same symbol as Robert's hand tattoo...

I slowly opened the book, and a sudden dread encompassed me. I gulped and started to read the black text, realizing that it was Joseph's journal. It started off sort of normal, but...as I read on, everything just went downhill. There was a lot of talk about 'sinners' and their 'impurities'. I continued to read, seeing eventual information about....me? It was a recent entry too.

"(d/n); a great neighbor and an overall great person. He's truly a fine fellow, and I am glad to have him as a friend. It would be a shame to lose that. Hopefully he stays true and pure...I have faith that he will".

Getting uneasy, I stopped reading the paragraphs about me and skimmed through the pages, anxiously reading through the devious phrases and sentences. Did I mention how thick this book is? It's about the size of a Harry Potter novel. It seemed as if Joseph has had it for many years. As I got to the older pages of the book, I read something...horrifying. My eyes widened in fear, and my hands shook.

This book contained logs of information...and a part of that information was about everyone in the cul-de-sac. Reading it, revealed that...somehow...Joseph was the reason why all of the dads were single. It didn't say that word for word, but I was able to put two and two together.

Hugo's ex husband...Craig's ex wife Ashley, ...and...even Robert's deceased wife Marilyn. Joseph was the reason behind the divorces and deaths of all of the spouses of the dads! How was this possible?! Who is Joseph?! What is happening?? Is he some kind of cultist? Why would he do this? HOW could he do this? The book confirmed that he's definitely religious...but...he wasn't an ordinary youth minister. He's some twisted freak destroying the lives of my friends. Wondering why he would be doing such demonic things, I speedily read some more. In his writing, Joseph explained how Maple Bay is a "psychic beacon of unfathomable power" that "requires sacrifice". This was complete nonsense....I couldn't believe tha-

STEP...STEP...STEP..

I jolted, getting startled when I heard footsteps approaching. I frantically put the book away, scrambling to grab the wine and two wine glasses. I ran out of the room, immediately bumping into Joseph "J-Joseph!" I yelped in surprise, taking a step back.

He looked at me in confusion "(d/n)? What's the matter? What took you so long?". I shook my head "Uh, n-nothing. Sorry, I got uh, ...side-tracked with something....heh" I gave him a cheap smile, hoping that he would believe me "I um, was just looking around the room. I decided to take a quick peak at some of the books that you own! Very interesting information. A-After that, I stumbled upon some old photos of everyone in the cul-de-sac, it was really sweet!".

Joseph looked at me with a suspicious glare. Something about the way he looked at me terrified me. It's as if he was reading right through me...as if he was reading my mind. He suddenly smiled "Oh, well I'm glad you found my stuff endearing. I should've come down here with you, I could've shown you those things myself". Before I could reply, he took the wine bottle and a glass from my hands "But it's alright. Now c'mon, let's get back to enjoying the ocean with Jimmy Buffet".

I simply nodded with a nervous gulp, quickly following him back up to the deck. Once back up there, Joseph and I went back to sitting on our lawn chairs. He drank some of the wine, ...but...I drank none. I had an awful feeling of dread in my chest. I was sitting right next to a murderous cultist!

"Hey, ...(d/n). Are you still nervous about the ocean?" Joseph asked, having a...very odd tone to his voice. It almost sounded as if he was secretly mocking me, but...he had no reason to, so...I just told myself that he was speaking normally. Did he know? How could he know? There was no possible way that he could know that I know.

"Uh...y-yeah" I rubbed the back of my neck, leaning against the chair with a deep exhale "I'm uh, ...I'm okay though. I'm having fun. It's really pretty out today, and Jimmy Buffet is always nice to listen to".

Joseph simply nodded, and for the rest of our time together, we stayed silent at times, while only occasionally chatting. The conversations were always started by Joseph, and I always made them awkward, but...Joseph seemed to never take note of it.

Finally, after Joseph took us back to the bay and we said goodbye, I rushed home. When I got back to the cul-de-sac, I dashed to my house and hurried inside. I haven't been this scared in forever...I needed to tell Robert.

I logged onto Dadbook and quickly sent a message: "Robert, you need to come over now. There's something really important I have to tell you".

I sighed deeply as I sunk into the couch, thinking about how terrifying and confusing this whole situation was. This couldn't be real....it had to be some sort of joke, right? ...Right? As I thought about it...I remembered Robert's hand tattoo. I don't doubt that he got it from Joseph...but...was he lying to me? What does that tattoo mean? Does he...work with Joseph? I had no reason to believe this, but my paranoia got the best of me. What if Robert doesn't actually love me? ...What if it was just all a big setup created by Joseph?

I shook my head, not wanting to believe this. Robert has shared so much with me...and....we've done so much. Besides, Joseph was the reason Marilyn died! Why would Robert be on his side? Unless...Robert didn't know that Joseph was the cause of his wife's death.

After minutes of sitting by myself just thinking about everything, I heard a sudden knock on the door. I froze, obviously getting startled. I shakily stood up and walked over to it, thinking that it was Robert. I glanced to the ground, seeing an envelope sitting there. Someone must've slipped it in after knocking. I picked it up and ripped it open, seeing that there was nothing in there...except an odd, sweet-smelling aroma.

I inhaled, instantly regretting that when I started to feel light-headed. Losing control of my body, I dropped the envelope as my arms went limp and I passed out, collapsing to the ground. _______________

I awoke slowly, feeling that my face was pressed against a cold floor. I opened my eyes, seeing that I was in a dimly lit room made out of brick and stone. I looked up, seeing a wall with chains connected to it. That same wall also had a red symbol painted on it. It was the same symbol that was on Joseph's journal, and on Robert's hand. Panic quickly settled in as I looked down, seeing that I was all tied up. Ropes were tightly wrapped around my ankles, legs, and around my chest and arms, which were put behind my back. I could barely move.

"F-Fuck...this can't be happening...th-this can't be happening" I felt tears brim my eyes "Oh god...oh god...A-Amanda....Robert...fuck.." I laid my head on the ground, shaking as my tears dripped from my face. I stayed there for a while, before a voice interrupted my anxiety "(d/n) ...oh, c'mon...don't cry".

I looked up, seeing Joseph wearing a dark grey robe, something that a priest would wear. Such an article of clothing shouldn't be so menacing and threatening...but Joseph definitely pulled that off. "J-Joseph, p-please don't hurt me! I-I promise I wont tell anyone about this...".

Joseph chuckled "Oh, hush, you're being ridiculous" He smirked lightly "I really wish you didn't read my journal. Since you already know about this, I can't have fun explaining it all to you!" he shrugged "Well, I suppose you wouldn't be here if you didn't read my journal in the first place".

I sniffled "W-What? ...H-How did you know that I read your journal?".

"The same way I know you notified Robert before I slipped that envelope through your door".

My eyes widened "W-What?". 'Can he...actually read my mind? Holy shit...' I thought to myself, thinking that I was going crazy. Joseph snickered softly "Mind reading...I suppose you could call it that". I gasped "Oh god, Joseph...please...please let me go...you don't have to do this anymore". Joseph sighed "I'm sorry, friend. You knowing my secret makes it less of a secret, now doesn't it?". I stayed silent, ...not knowing how to respond.

"Now, if you'll excuse me... There are some things I have to attend to. Don't run off anywhere" Joseph stated as he turned away from me and left, walking up some stairs and closing a door behind himself.

As soon as he left, I laid there for a moment, wanting to be 100% sure that he was gone. After a short while, I fruitlessly shook around, attempting to free myself. I struggled as much as I could, soon just...giving up. It was pointless. "Th-This can't be it....there has to be a way to get out of here...I...I can't give up now" I sniffled "ahhg...what would Robert do?". Just then, my eyes lit up "Robert! Th-That's it!". I shuffled my hands around, trying to get them into my pocket. Ever since Robert first gave me that folding pocket knife, I've kept it with me. Thankfully, I still had the lucky knife. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the blade and unfolded it, turning it around to cut the ropes.

It took a while, but eventually, I was out of my restraints. I jumped up to my feet, getting a little dizzy in doing so. When I regained my composure, I hurried up the stone stairs and tried opening the door, realizing to my dismay that it was locked. I sighed stressfully, knowing now that I'd just have to wait for Joseph to return. Great.

There was a long hallway that I could go down, ...but...something about that just rubbed me the wrong way. Now, ...my only real option was to wait till Joseph came back so I could defend myself with Robert's knife, and then escape.

I sighed and walked back down the stairs, going over to the wall and sitting down against it. I hoped that I wouldn't have to wait for too long... I knew that just sitting in a cold room all by myself would drive me to want to sleep...but doing that would be suicidal; I needed to be awake for when Joseph came back.

I ran a hand through my hair, just staying quiet and in my thoughts for a long while. After what seemed to be hours, but could've just been 30 minutes, I started to hear footsteps. I clambered up to my feet as quickly as possible and held the knife up in a defensive pose, ready for anything to jump out at me.

I looked over at the hallway, hearing that the sound was coming from there. I kept my position, shivering slightly in fear and worry. Could I really defend myself? I've...never stabbed anyone before. What if they were too fast? W-What if-

The person approaching finally revealed themselves as they stepped out of the darkness of the hallway. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped when I saw that it was Robert. He looked tired and defeated. It was as if he'd been walking for a very long time.

"(d/n)!" He gasped. "R-Robert!!" I returned the gasp as I dropped my knife and ran up to him, giving him a tight hug. Robert wrapped his arms around me, holding me close "(d/n)....where were you?? You've been missing for a whole day...I've been so worried...". I looked up at him with tears in my eyes "I-It's Joseph. H-He brought me here. H-He was going to k-kill me!". Robert looked at me in shock. "Did you know that he was in a cult?! Did you lie to me about your tattoo?" I asked frantically, so many emotions going through my head; I couldn't think straight.

Robert sighed "I-I knew he was in a cult, but...I didn't know that he was..." he shook his head "Are you sure Joseph brought you here?". I nodded "Yes! I-I found a secret book hidden in his yacht...I-It had information about all of this! ...H-He..." I gulped "I know this might be hard to believe...b-but he's the reason the dads in the cul-de-sac are single. I read it with my own eyes...a-and he admitted it to me!".

Robert looked at me in disbelief "Th-That's not true. It...it can't be. Are you saying that he's the reason why everyone in the cul-de-sac divorced? Or...widowed?" he looked at me with an angered, but confused glare "What about...." he sighed "W-What about Marilyn?".

I felt my tears come back as I held him tighter "Yes...I-I am saying that. He admitted it to me!" I sniffled once again "H-He even admitted that...he's the reason Marilyn...d-died" I said quietly, almost choking on my words. Robert didn't know what to believe; I could tell that he didn't know how to feel. "J-Just, ...c'mon. We need to get out of here". I expected him to be furious, but I guess he was still in disbelief. I didn't blame him; this was all so sudden and confusing.

"W-Wait, h-how did you know where to find me? W-What is this place?" I asked hectically. "When I couldn't find you anywhere in the cul-de-sac, I asked around. Craig told me you could be at the park. I searched for hours, until I finally found a secret entrance in the woods. It led me to this...long hallway. I've been walking forever. I don't know how long" Robert responded, before grabbing my hand "C'mon. That doesn't matter. We need to-".

Just then, the sound of the door unlocking made us stiffen in place. It opened and closed, and Joseph walked down the stone stairs "Robert...I was just looking for you. I'm assuming you found the entrance hidden in the woods" he sighed "I've never liked that way...it takes forever to walk from the park all the way down to the cul-de-sac".

"W-We're under the cul-de-sac?" I muttered out, staying close to Robert.

Joseph shrugged "Sort of, but that doesn't really matter now. I have a job to do, and you impure sinners are in my way". Robert clenched his fists "What the hell is going on, Joseph?! Let us go. Now!". Joseph grinned "Oh, Robert... so simple minded. Don't you think that tattoo of yours means something? That was your opportunity to join me. When we broke up, ...I let you live. I thought we were still together on this" he chuckled devilishly "But now that my secret is out, I'll have to remove you both".

Robert stared at Joseph in shock "You fucking bastard. (d/n) said that YOU were the reason behind everyone's divorces... and even behind the death of some spouses. Is that true?". Joseph held his hands behind his back as he nodded "Yes, it was my job. I had to".

"You're the reason my wife is dead!? YOU'RE the reason my life turned into a fucking nightmare?!" Robert asked, pure fury in his eyes. Joseph nodded once again "Yes, Rob. I was pretty sure that I made that quite clear...".

Robert let go of me, pulling out his knife "YOU BASTARD! YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!". I quickly grabbed Robert, not wanting him to kill Joseph. I didn't want to get into any trouble with the authorities when this was all over... Robert stopped, and Joseph suddenly grabbed the knife from his hands, before shoving me to the ground and pushing Robert against the wall. I groaned in pain as I landed on the hard, cold floor, feeling soreness engulf my arm and side.

I quickly looked up, seeing Joseph pinning Robert against the wall, the blonde cultist holding the knife to his neck. I panicked and quickly got up, throwing myself against Joseph "Leave him alone!!". Joseph hit the ground with a grunt of discomfort. He quickly shoved me off, swinging the knife close to my face. I winced in pain and held my cheek, feeling blood start to drip. As soon as Joseph got up to his feet, Robert grabbed him and harshly shoved him against the stone wall, keeping him there.

I stood up and adjusted myself, tensing up when I saw Joseph grip the knife in his hand "N-NO!". Before I could do anything, Joseph thrust the knife at Robert. Luckily, Robert noticed and let go of Joseph, trying to get out of the way of the knife. In doing so, Robert dodged most of the blade, but was still scraped pretty badly. He groaned in stinging pain, immediately holding his side, which was now bleeding, his jacket and red shirt torn. "R-Robert!" I rushed over to him, but before I could help, Joseph grabbed me and pulled me close, holding the knife up to my neck.

Robert froze, not wanting me to get hurt. "Just accept your fate, Robbie. Neither of you are getting out of here alive" Joseph threatened as he kept his hand over my mouth. Tears ran down my face as I stood as stiff as a statue, knowing that I'd definitely get stabbed if I tried to free myself.

"You two are required for the sacrifice, and I can't let either of you g- AHG!" Joseph let go of me and even dropped the knife when I bit down onto his hand hard. I quickly moved away from him, going over to Robert and tightly hugging him. He whimpered in pain, and I instantly backed off "O-Oh! S-Sorry...are you okay?". He snarled "Far from it".

Joseph growled angrily, swiftly moving to grab the knife he dropped, but before he could, Robert stepped on his hand, pinning it to the ground. Robert grabbed the collar of Joseph's robe and pulled back a fist "This is for my wife, my daughter... and everyone in the cul-de-sac" with that, he punched Joseph in the face, knocking him to the floor and making his nose bleed.

I panted heavily, not realizing I had a shortness of breath until just then. I grabbed both of the knives that were lying on the ground, folding them and putting mine in my pocket. "W-What are we going to do with Joseph...?" Before I could put Robert's knife away, he grabbed it from my hands.

"If it bleeds...we can kill it" He growled in response, pointing the knife at the bleeding, unconscious blonde. "Robert! Stop!" I said as I grabbed his arm "You can't kill him. We have to call the police". He pulled his arm away from me and grabbed the cultist.

I frowned "Robert! Think about It! Would you be any better than Joseph if you killed him? What would everyone in the cul-de-sac think? What about the kids?".

Robert's angered breathing calmed down as he stared at Joseph. "Can you really kill him? Look at him and tell me that you could actually end his---or anyone else's---life." I spoke softly, wanting to calm him down. Finally, he put the knife in his pocket with a sigh "No...I can't kill him. But I can sure as hell put him in jail. C'mon, we've gotta get out of here before he wakes up". _______________

It took some effort, but when we left the underground, it lead up to the inside of Joseph's home. We kept away from the kids, not wanting them to see what was happening. Robert found Mary and tried to explain everything to her as I called 911.

By the time Joseph woke up, the police were there and ready to take him away. As I explained to the police what happened, Robert was getting bandaged up by EMTs. Before everyone left, the cut on my cheek was looked at and simply cleaned and bandaged.

For the next few days, things were pretty rough in the cul-de-sac. It was obvious that everyone was uncomfortable with the situation. Mary had to look after her kids more often, but of course, I, or one of the older kids in the cul-de-sac would babysit if Mary needed time out of the house, which frankly, was quite often. Her attitude didn't seem to change much. To be honest, she seemed to be a little relieved. But of course, she felt somber for her kids.

I told Amanda through phone what had happened, and she came down to visit for a week, spending time with me, Robert, and the kids of the cul-de-sac.

After that week of stress, confusion, and worry, Robert and I went to the hilltop that looked over the city to relax. We sat next to each other on the back of Robert's pickup truck, staying silent while we just admired the view. Everything that had happened was so shocking...that we hadn't shared a normal conversation that entire week.

Feeling the need to say something, I finally spoke up "I'm...sorry all of this happened. I feel so awful...I...wish there was something I could've done". Robert sighed quietly and wrapped an arm around me gently, pulling me close "It's alright, (d/n). We've all been through a hard time this past week. But, ...it'll get better. You're the one who taught me that" he told me with a faint smile. I looked up at him and returned the loving look. I leaned close, our noses lightly touching "You're right". With that, I gingerly pressed my lips against his, and we both sat there kissing.

Robert smirked and pulled me up onto his lap, gently holding my waist. I giggled softly and wrapped my arms around his neck, moving in to kiss him again. As we kissed some more, Robert leaned back and laid in the back of his truck, with me still on top of him. As he moved down to start gently biting my neck, Robert ran his fingers through my hair, keeping me close. I smiled with a deep blush, leaning into the kisses and loving nibbles.

Robert sighed quietly and hugged me close "I love you, (d/n)...thank you for saving me...". My blush stayed as I felt warmth in my heart "I love you too, Robert. ...You've saved me too" I muttered quietly as we snuggled close, the both of us eventually dozing off to sleep in the back of the pickup truck. Everything was fine...we were together, and everyone in the cul-de-sac was safe. As the sun set, Robert and I stayed cuddled together, comfortably sleeping in the back of the truck under the stars.

#dream daddy #Robert small #dadsona #fan fiction #my art #joseph christiansen

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ezra-blue · 8 years ago

Text

You’ve Got Something - 40

For @baronvonriktenstein‘s Messy!AU

40: Someone to Commiserate With

They have something in common, so maybe they can have a conversation. Maybe.

Word Count: ~3500

40: Someone to Commiserate With

Gojyo was pretty sure he'd gotten kicked out of this bar when he was sixteen. He was certain that if he searched the poorly-lit, half-obscured mirror behind the bartender between the rows of half-empty bottles and polished taps, he'd find the shitty old fake ID Banri had gotten for him with the rest of the "Do Not Serve" crew. However, he'd been a little smaller then, his hair had been shorter, he hadn't had as much muscle. If it was the same bartender (and Gojyo had gotten way too drunk to remember the guy's face, so he had no clue), he clearly didn't remember Gojyo. Now, settled on a creaky leather barstool next to Sanzo, knees just touching the bottom of the oak bar, he flashed his ID with a weak smile, and got a stiff nod and an even stiffer drink in return. Jack Daniels, neat. It burned all the way down, just the way he liked it.

When he was trying to get drunk, anyway.

"How can you drink that?" Sanzo had a Jameson and ginger ale, but he turned his nose up at Gojyo's tumbler. "I've tried drinking hard stuff straight, but there's no flavor, just the alcohol."

"Sometimes, that's all you need. Also, screw you, it's got a flavor." Gojyo took another deliberate sip. "They got a special way of making Jack, with the charred white oak barrels, it's got this smokiness--"

"Don't tell me it's 'an acquired taste.'" Sanzo sneered. "That just means 'it tasted awful but I told myself I liked it enough times that I convinced myself.'"

"Bullshit, it just means you like it or you don't! I do. You like girl drinks mixed with soda. We agree to disagree." Gojyo planted his elbows on the bar and pointedly glared at the back mirror.

Sanzo raised an eyebrow, then held his drink up. "This isn't a 'girl' drink. I see absolutely nothing on here saying, 'girls only,' nor has it asked me to call it 'Madam.' Just because it's cut with soda doesn't mean it's any less strong." He paused, neck and back straightening as he thought, then swiped the glass from Gojyo's hand. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Son of a bitch, you take me drinking and--"

"Answer the question, damn it. I saw you at Christmas, you starved yourself into the hospital over my old man throwing a temper tantrum at you, when's the last time you ate?" Sanzo glared at Gojyo, and Gojyo hunched his shoulders and sealed his lips tight. Sanzo tossed back the last of Gojyo's drink and slammed the empty glass down, and exhaled hard to clear the taste from his mouth. "I'm not letting you drink straight liquor on an empty stomach." Sanzo shoved a menu towards him. "Order something solid, you can put it on my tab. I don't care what it is, but don't just get the most expensive thing on there to spite me or I'll ditch you."

"Fine, fine, fuck, asshole." Gojyo rolled his eyes and scanned the menu. Nothing looked appetizing, but he picked out one of the flatbreads at random and ordered it, as well as a fresh drink. Sanzo glared at him, and Gojyo glared back. "What? I'll wait 'til I get food to drink it. I thought we were here to drink and shit, I dunno." He crossed his arms. "'Sides, I'd rather break your nose than break bread with you."

"What the hell did I do to you?" Sanzo gulped down some of his drink without looking at Gojyo.

"You know what you did." Gojyo's eyebrows set into a scowl. "Break up with a good kid for no good goddamn reason."

Sanzo set his drink down with a clink, harder than he meant to. "I had a good reason."

Gojyo's face took heat. "Goku never did shit wrong to you."

Sanzo sniffed, then drained his drink. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me." Gojyo spun on the stool to face him, but Sanzo ignored him as he hailed the bartender. "Huh, that's what I thought." Gojyo spun back around. "You're chickenshit, and heartless to boot. Kid tells you he's in love with you, and you don't care. What, you that afraid of being tied down?" Sanzo was obviously avoiding Gojyo's gaze now, and Gojyo just scoffed. "Fuck. He's not even my type but I'd be a better boyfriend to him than you, if I dated kids."

"What?" This got Sanzo's attention, and he glanced over to Gojyo, eyebrow raised. "What the hell does that mean?"

Gojyo scoffed, rolling his shoulders back. “Not talking smack about the kid, but I don't date younger than me. That's it.” Then, he wagged his glass at Sanzo. “But, fuck, if I did, you bet I'd take the kid out for dinner and dancing, anything he wanted, 'cause he's nice and he deserves someone to treat him nice!"

Sanzo snorted, but took a sip directly out of the fresh cup the bartender handed him. "Bullshit. Just take him out. You talk all that good shit, but you know you got a stash of 'barely legal' spank rags somewhere."

Gojyo actually shuddered. "Fuck, no." Sanzo actually saw Gojyo get a little green, but he swallowed it hard and came back with a vicious glare at Sanzo. "Why, do you?"

"No. I don't keep porn around." Gojyo raised an eyebrow, and Sanzo sniffed derisively. "I don't look for stuff to jerk off to. I actually have control over myself."

"The fuck are you, a monk?" Gojyo hunched over in his seat, and Sanzo smacked his forearm.

"Asshole."

Before the two could start trading barbs again, a waiter arrived with Gojyo's food, and Sanzo watched Gojyo pick at it, actually feeling a touch of guilt at the obvious conflict on Gojyo's face. He clearly didn't want to eat, even if his stomach was empty and now audibly growling. He choked about half of it down, then pushed it over to share with Sanzo. Sanzo wasn't sure what he'd been expecting with Gojyo, but he decided he shouldn't have been surprised.

He was starting to feel a little numb to it, anyway. He had two empty glasses beside him, and Gojyo had one.

"So why did you do it, anyway?" Gojyo ran his finger around the rim of his second glass of Jack, as Sanzo considered the menu. "Come on. As far as I know, only thing that happened was the kid said he loved you."

"I decided you were right about something." Sanzo shrugged and folded the menu over, before hailing the bartender. "Rum and coke, on the rocks." He shoved the menu back and stared at the backs of his hands. "I'm... not good for him. He needs someone... gentler."

"Yeah, but he doesn't want that." Gojyo couldn't keep a hint of misery from his voice. "He wants you."

Sanzo accepted his drink and drained half of it, before answering, "Damn shame."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking and not looking at each other, as faceless people began to fill in the empty spaces around them, the black walls obscured by a blur of motion, and the tight room began to feel even smaller. Gojyo remained unmoved by the slow swell in noise or what was surely at least a buzz of intoxication, downcast eyes, and Sanzo decided he had to say something: "I'm sorry. For what Hakkai did to you."

"Why the hell are you apologizing?" Gojyo didn't look up.

"Someone ought to."

Gojyo heaved a sigh. "He did. Hakkai apologized. He was all hung up on it, I think he actually legit felt bad that he did it, or that he didn't break up with me first, or something. I practically had to break up with me for him."

"Shit." Sanzo curled his hand tight around his drink. "Fuck, then I'm sorry my asshole brother did this." If he'd had any less manners, he would have spat on the bar at having to call him that. “If I had a gun, I would have put a bullet between his eyes years ago.”

Gojyo raised an eyebrow at this. “But he's your brother.”

“He's a fucking asshole, is what he is.” Sanzo shook his glass at Gojyo, then emptied its contents into his mouth. “He's toxic, and for no good reason. Maybe my dads just got to him too late, and foster care warped his brain, or he was just born fucked and learned to hide how fucked up he was until he decided to do something with it, but he's fucked up and fucks up everything that's good near him.” Gojyo hung his head.

“Then what was Hakkai even doing with him?”

“He's a good actor, and fuck it, I'm not gonna lie, they had stuff in common. They're both smart, and Hakkai... Hakkai used to harbor some misanthropy.” Sanzo stared at the ice melting from the heat radiating off his fingers. “He hardly liked anyone but his sister, and after they met, Nii. They could be miserable together, at least. I think watching Kanan die, seeing all the people helping her, or maybe just knowing that he was about to be alone in the world without her to lean on pushed him out of it. I think Nii saw him changing and hated it.” Gojyo hung his head, as Sanzo shoved his glass across the bar. “It's not why they broke up, but it sure didn't help.” He flagged the bartender. “Another.” The bartender took his glass, and Sanzo turned the stool around to face Gojyo. “You can blame Nii for this. He's a manipulative bastard. I'll bet he tricked Hakkai some way or another. Hakkai fell for it when he should've known better, but fuck, Nii still did it.”

Gojyo ducked down in his stool. “Nah. Probably not.”

“Nii's a piece of shit, I wouldn't put a damn thing past him.” Sanzo's lip curled. “I told Hakkai, if you really don't want him around, get a restraining order. I told my dads the same. Dad just said, 'he's my son, too, so he's my responsibility.'” Sanzo sneered, imitating Koumyou's voice with obvious derision: “'If I give up on him, nobody will help him.' Like the bastard wants help. He thinks we're all fucked up and he's the only one who's right. Doesn't matter. Dad won't give up, even though P-- Toudai has.”

Gojyo sucked his lip into his mouth and traced lines on the glass with his thumb, watching the condensation gather and drip down. “I guess. I... I'd lost out a lot more if Jien had given up on me when I was a kid.” His eyelids sank for a moment as he thought about what he was losing out on now, but Sanzo lightly slapped his forearm.

“Don't go there. You're not like Nii.” Sanzo gave him a sharp look, then swiftly broke eye contact. “Thank your lucky stars for that.”

Gojyo wasn't sure what to say to that. He just drained his drink and waved to the bartender to order another. “Jack, neat, and a beer. Something amber, if you got it.”

Sanzo had three empty glasses, Gojyo had three and an open bottle of beer. After a long drink from the mouth of the bottle, which Sanzo watched him take with envy plain in his gaze before snatching the menu and flipping through, Gojyo leaned back and let out a soft sigh. “Y'know...”

“Mm?”

“You think... maybe... if I...” Gojyo trailed off, his gaze tracing the curve of the bottle. “I wonder if maybe, if I'd talked to him...” He broke off, and Sanzo eyed him warily.

“Finish your damn sentence.”

Gojyo collapsed forward into a shrug. “Never mind.”

“I hate when people do that.” Sanzo punched Gojyo's shoulder lightly, but he shrugged again. “Come on.”

“Nah, it ain't like you care.” Gojyo hunched forward, elbows on the bar. “Nothing'd change.”

“So? Better than bottling whatever you're thinking up.” Sanzo pulled a face, brow scrunched, mouth taught with dismay. “It'd help to talk about it. It might not change a damn thing, but it might feel better to get it out.”

“Fuck, Goku said that too.” Sanzo grimaced at this, and Gojyo shook his head again, not taking his eyes off of his drink. “But it's fine. I'm fine. It doesn't matter.”

“Whatever.” Sanzo snorted, glaring at Gojyo, his gaze traveling from his slumped arms over the subtle dejection barely masked by the bleak acceptance in his expression. “It'd matter to Hakkai.” Gojyo didn't say anything, but he pursed his lips. “Look...” Sanzo struggled for a moment, but decided it had to be said: “He hasn't been himself. He may have nobody to blame for that but himself, and perhaps he should be exactly as miserable as he's acting, but he's been a mess.”

This got a reaction out of Gojyo, his brow knitting up, drawing his arms in close. He shook his head. “Thought he'd be happy.” He drained the last of his beer and flagged the bartender for another, but when the bartender asked Sanzo what he wanted, Sanzo just shook his head, trying to untangle what Gojyo had said.

Gojyo drained his next glass of Jack in one long, long gulp, and though part of Sanzo was fascinated with the way his throat worked, the rest of him was counting the glasses beside him. When Gojyo next actually said anything, the alcohol was seeping out in every word: “You know, you really were a jerk to Goku. You didn't have to be. He never did a damn thing wrong, did he?” Sanzo grunted, and Gojyo smacked at his arm, missed, then swung again to lightly slap at his elbow. “He was wafflin' forever, y'know, on how to tell, if he should tell you. Of course you had a boyfriend thing, but it was way more than just fucking or dates or whatever it was you two did, he really liked you.” Gojyo scoffed with utter disgust. “Way more than you liked him, obviously.” Those words actually grated on Sanzo, and he shoved the half-empty glass away. He had no excuse for feeling as sore as he did from that half-meant insult other than his inebriation. Gojyo merely clicked his tongue and craned towards Sanzo again. “He was head over heels for you. The dumb kid had never dated before and for some reason, he fell for you hard and fast, and you had to know you were like this, why the fuck would you lead him on?”

“I didn't,” Sanzo muttered without meaning to, his face falling. Gojyo wasn't appeased, only looking angrier.

“Then why the fuck did you dump him if you weren't just fucking with him in the first place?”

Sanzo exhaled slowly through his nose. “He should be with someone who loves like he does.”

“S'no excuse.” Gojyo shoved Sanzo's arm. “Why'd you do it, you fucker? You haven't said he did anything wrong, you're sayin' you broke up with him 'cause of you, but if it were you that was the issue, he'd've dumped you. What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Sanzo grunted, shaking his head. The answer ached in his chest, but he couldn't say it, he wouldn't say it. Gojyo slumped forward again, staring at his hands on the table. “He loved you, you bastard. He loved you like anything, and you just turned around and... none of it matters. He tells you he loves you, and it doesn't matter. I try to keep my shitty history from fucking my life now up, and nothing matters. You fuck up good enough one time, and suddenly you're yesterday's trash.” Gojyo emptied his glass and slammed it back down on the bar. “I mean, fuck it!” He threw his hands in the air, loud like he didn’t care if anyone else could hear him. “He should'a dumped me! I just don't get why he had to go and...” Gojyo motioned vaguely, and Sanzo couldn't tell what he was trying to convey except that it was likely lewd, but he gave up, face contorted with disgust and upset. “I don't even care that he did it, y'know? Fuck it, it's not like I'm worth him, I ain't earned him, why should anyone bother with me?” He huffed into the bar, his legs curling up under him. “Fuck, he could've at least told me if he wanted to go off and be happy with that guy instead of me.”

That couldn't stand. “You're not getting it.” Sanzo grabbed onto Gojyo's shoulder and forced him to turn in the stool and look him in the eye. “Hakkai's not 'with' Nii, and he's not fucking happy. Nii fucked him just so he could stomp on Hakkai's heart one more time.”

Gojyo's focus was fuzzy, pupils darting to and fro as they traveled Sanzo's face, before he shook his head and blearily muttered, “Well, that ain't fair.” He pulled away from Sanzo and hunched over again, staring blankly at his bruised knuckles. “He should be with someone who actually makes him happy.”

Sanzo swallowed, already knowing he was going to regret the next part. “That was you. You were the only person who made him mean it when he smiled.”

Sanzo had expected Gojyo to get angry, but instead, he sealed his lips, resigned. Then he raised his hand. “Another Jack. Make it a double please.”

Sanzo watched Gojyo drain another glass. His forehead gleamed in the yellow light from the bar, and Sanzo could already smell alcohol in his sweat. There was likely much more still in his bloodstream, and God, if he was already metabolizing and still looking this sloppy, he probably had already had way too much. Sanzo motioned to the bartender to cut Gojyo off, because he was sober enough to know he was tipsy and that they both needed to stop. Gojyo, however, laughed suddenly. “So, I'm just an idiot, huh?”

On any other night, Sanzo would have wondered why he was admitting it. However, he knew what Gojyo was talking about, and even so, gave him the same reply he would have if he didn't: “Yeah, but I dunno what that has to do with anything.”

“That's why... why he... with that guy...” Gojyo swallowed dryly, then licked at his lower lip. “It's 'cause I'm an idiot, right?”

“You're an idiot, but that has nothing to do with anything.” Sanzo nudged Gojyo's elbow, and his arm buckled, leaving Gojyo slumped and swaying. “I told you. Hakkai gave you up because he's an idiot.”

“No.” Gojyo shook his head, hair drifting in the puddles of condensation on the bar. “No, it's... the same... I'm not good enough. Never was. Never will be. Just...” He tossed the napkin from under the glass into the air and vacantly watched it drift to the floor behind the bar, missing the dirty look he got from the bartender. “Wasted his time. 'M a waste.”

Sanzo huffed. “You fucking moron, you--”

“I always get left,” Gojyo mumbled, drawing into himself even further, and Sanzo realized Gojyo probably couldn't hear him anymore. “Why... why'd I think he'd be any different? I'm... I'm just not...” Sanzo listened, dumbfounded. Why couldn't he have been Koumyou? Someone who could actually counter what he was saying, or help him work it out? Sanzo sucked at emotions and he knew it, and lucky fucking him, he'd found the exact right combination of alcohol, exhaustion, and misery to get Gojyo to spill his! Worse, Gojyo was starting to get pale and clammy, looking ready to spill something else. "I..." He heaved for breath, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his own knees before finally clutching his arms around his chest. "I... just wanted to be good enough for him..."

The room was getting louder, hotter, and Gojyo was imploding like a star that had burned too bright. Sanzo quickly counted the glasses next to Gojyo. Six, two empty beer bottles, fuck, the guy was completely hammered and if he was this bad now, he wasn’t going to get better. "We need to leave. Come on." Sanzo grabbed a stack of cash out of his wallet and hailed the bartender, but Gojyo was still mumbling, more and more frantic by the second, and Sanzo managed to get the bill paid and get an arm around Gojyo to drag him to the door.

The storm broke when the door opened, and suddenly, Gojyo was collapsing to a heap on the concrete. "He threw me away! Like it didn't matter!" Gojyo was crying, actual tears and all, simply out of strength to dam it all back a second longer. Sanzo cursed and tried to work him back to his feet to drag him to his car, but Gojyo, senseless and stripped of his defenses, protested with a wail, "I thought you'd let me stay!"

“Come on," Sanzo hissed, knowing Gojyo wasn't talking to him anymore. He stumbled a step forward with Gojyo loaded against him, staggering into someone nearby to a round of swears. He ignored it, grimacing as he kept trying to drag Gojyo out with every heavy step, to his car, to somewhere safe, before he fell to the million pieces of himself he could no longer hold together and scattered on the ground like so much broken glass, more of him crumbling away with each plaintive cry:

"I thought you'd come back! You were supposed to keep me! You were my sign! You weren't supposed to leave!"

#You've Got Something #fanfiction #my writing

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faveficarchive · 5 years ago

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All the Colors of the World: Part 2

Queens and Conquests

By Vivian Darkbloom

Pairing: Mel/Janice, Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: After meeting once again post-Macedonia, Mel and Janice come to terms with their feelings for one another, while also coming to terms with who they are individually.

Gradations of gold stippled the old books of the study. Mel removed her glasses and let her eyes rest on the burnished orange-yellow sunset at the window, which reminded her of Janice's hair. Suddenly she realized how late it was. And where on earth was Janice anyway? She was anxious to update the archaeologist on the turn that the scroll was taking. She stood up and stretched.

She wandered into the kitchen, where Alice, her part-time housekeeper, was folding laundry.

"Alice, I seem to have misplaced my house guest," she said, hoping the joke would cover the concern in her voice.

The slender, coffee-colored woman smiled, but raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I haven't seen her, Miss Melinda. I got in at my usual time, and no one was here."

Mel frowned.

"I'm sure she'll be fine, Miss Melinda. It's about dinner time, and she doesn't seem like the type who would miss a meal."

Mel chuckled. "How could you tell?"

"Why, all of those eggs are gone! You barely go through half a dozen a month. That was the last of the your ration coupons too."

"I guess Miss Janice will just have to eat powdered sugar and bread, then," Mel said.

Alice giggled. "Well, you will have fried chicken for dinner. Left over from last night. Shall I set it out for the two of you?"

"No Alice, I'll take care of it later. Thank you." She walked through the darkening house to the porch; it was actually brighter outside, as the gold, scarlet, and violet flooded the sky. Mel wrapped her arms about her. How many of these sunsets did Xena witness? she wondered. Were the skies of the ancient world just as beautiful? Or even more so?

A reply came from inside her, a voice she had known all her life, yet she never knew its origin until last year in Macedonia. Yes. It was breathtaking, More than this.

Then a sudden memory: I am watching the sunset. I hear her come up behind me, I know it is her...I would know the tread of her walk anywhere. She has walked beside me for years. And would continue to do so for the rest of her life. Without a word she wraps her arms around me, I feel her face, her hair, nuzzled in between my shoulders. For a brilliant moment Mel saw it and felt it all: heavy armor on her body, a breeze tingling her upper arms, the multi-hued sunset, the muscular arms around her waist, the soft skin and golden down on those arms, the finely tapered wrists and elegant hands. I turn away from the sunset, for she is more to me than all the colors of the world.

As the moment dissipated, Mel felt a stunned emptiness. Empty because that beautiful intensity was gone. She had never felt anything like it. My God. They loved each other.

Shakily, she sat down. I can't faint again, now, can I? She took deep breaths, and managed to control her racing heart, until she caught a glimpse of Janice sauntering up the street. She had a sweet, boyish gait, confident and quick. It seemed jauntier than usual. Her fedora was tilted back on her head, and she still wore that leather jacket, even though it was about 65 humid degrees outside. As she passed Mrs. Pellier, Mel's neighbor from down the street, she doffed her hat. The woman stopped dead in her tracks and looked at Janice as if she were from another planet. Which, in a way, she was. Mel laughed.

As Janice continued on her way, she looked toward the house and saw Mel. It was her turn to stop walking. For a moment she looked apprehensive, as if she didn't want to approach Mel. But the she grinned sheepishly, and the smile remained plastered on her face as she mounted the stairs of the house. "Hi, you waitin' for me?" the young woman asked breathlessly, swaying slightly.

Mel smiled. Something about Janice seemed...different. Looser. Not as gruff and tough. "Sort of," she responded wistfully. Like all my life.

"Sorry...didn't think I would be gone so long." She sat down on a porch step, leaning against a column.

"Where have you been?" Mel asked.

"Oh, just touring your fair city. "

"Really Janice, you hardly seem a tourist type."

"Well, I wasn't actually touring...just walking around. "

Mel stood up from the wicker chair she was seated in, and joined Janice on the step. She was close enough to the archaeologist to catch her rich scent: the leather, the cigar smoke, a faint tinge of sweat...and alcohol.

Mel arched an eyebrow. "Just walking around, hmmm?"

"Yeah." Janice shrugged with an overstudied nonchalance.

"Didn't happen to walk into a bar by any chance, did you?"

Janice knew she was a poor liar. Nonetheless it was her nature to give most things her best shot. "A bar, you say? You mean like a pub? A café? A bistro? A tavern?"

"Let's just say a place where they serve alcohol."

"I mean, I may have been in a place, indeed, I may have been inside, in a sheltered environment, but whether or not it served alcohol, well, it's academic..."

"Janice Covington, you are the world's most inept liar. Why can't you just admit you had a couple drinks?"

Janice flushed. "What makes you think it was a couple?"

With a chuckle Mel stood up and extended her hand downward. "Come on, let's have dinner." When the young archaeologist grasped her hand she felt it again, that warm rush of emotion that she felt minutes ago, reliving the memories of a woman long dead. The last time they had touched each other was last year, after arriving in the U.S. from Macedonia; Mel did not count the fainting spell she'd had at Janice's arrival yesterday, since she was not conscious when the young woman virtually carried her inside. But she remembered the awkward hug at the airport—meant as a friendly parting embrace—where she had thrown her long arms around Janice and half expected the scruffy young woman to squirm and growl like an untamed animal. Instead she had experienced Janice's arms around her in a fierce squeeze. And it had taken every bit of her resources to resist kissing Janice in front of hundreds of strangers.

Once Janice stood up Mel did not relinquish her hand. Janice did not seem to mind; her glittering green-blue eyes remained focused on her boots as she said, "Okay. I'm starving." A smile yanked at her lips.

Blushing furiously, and still holding Janice's hand, Mel lead the way inside.

*****

Gabrielle awoke in pitch dark. She could tell from the dampness and dirt it was a cave. For several minutes she lay still; she knew immediately that her hands and feet wore bound, they were expertly tied—Xena would be proud of such work, she thought ruefully. Her wrists and ankles were numb, but the ropes were not cutting into flesh. Her head felt fuzzy and her mouth dry, but other than that she felt uninjured.

Am I alone here? she thought nervously. Her silent question was answered by the startling sound of a sharp noise. A spark, then a light. A torch was lit. In the gathering light she saw several young, female faces peering anxiously at her. "Gabrielle?" one said hesitantly.

It kicked in. She recognized the four girls as Amazons: Hessa, Dorit, Shyla, and Brea. The one who spoke to her was Dorit. She also saw that the girls were untied, unlike her. So whoever has done this recognizes that I'm more of a threat to them than the girls are, although I'm hardly bigger than the girls.

"Hi girls," she said warily. "What's going on here?"

"We were captured by these slavers two days ago," Dorit said. "They've been keeping us here. They're waiting for a cart to be delivered, so they can carry us all."

"How do you know this?" asked Gabrielle.

"We heard one of the guards complaining," Brea said. "It was supposed to be here yesterday, he was saying."

"How many of them are there? How many have you counted?"

"Only four," Dorit replied.

"No, three!" Brea corrected.

"I thought there were six!" threw in Hessa. All the girls glared at her. They knew she couldn't count.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. When was I brought here?"

"Yesterday. They said they found you near a lake."

"Yeah. I was with Xena. Did they say anything about her? Did they hurt her?" the bard asked with urgency.

"No, she wasn't hurt. After they took you away they had a ransom note sent to Xena..." Dorit began.

"But it was a fake!" Brea interjected excitedly. "It said that you were kidnapped by slavers heading to Athens, where they were going to put you on a ship..."

"...but these guys aren't going to Athens," Dorit picked up the thread. "They said that to throw her off your trail. "

Dammit. She closed her eyes, struggling to control tears. It's bad enough I have to get out of this mess myself, she thought, but then I have to find her again...and how long would that take? She stamped down the quelling emotion. Get a grip. You've got to get these girls free. And yourself too. She looked up to see the expectant faces watching her. She exhaled. "I assume they know who I am," she said. "I imagine you told them." She knew it would have been to their advantage if the slavers didn't know the connection.

"Yeah," Brea growled. We were trying to pretend like we didn't know you, but then Hessa said, 'Omigod!! It's the Queen!!' " Again, the girls all glared at Hessa, who mumbled an apology.

"It's all right, Hessa," Gabrielle assuaged the girl. "I too have the unfortunate habit of blurting out things at the wrong time. And I'm Queen, right?" The girls looked less than comforted by this fact. "Okay, it's not a great leadership trait. Just give me some time to think."

"There is no time," a male voice said from the cave entrance. His natural height was enhanced by the perspective they had of him: from the ground. He was huge, practically bigger than Hercules, and wearing black leather and a black tunic. A dark cap and hood covered most of his face, except for the gray eyes peering out at them.

"Who are you?" demanded Gabrielle..

"I don't think this is a situation where we get on a name to name basis, do you?" his deep voice penetrated the mask. "You know I'm your captor. And I know you're the Amazon Queen. "

"Untie me," she growled at him.

"No, my feisty one. I'll not have you getting away. You will fetch a splendid ransom. And, once I have that ransom, you'll get an equally impressive price from a fine nobleman. Now these, "—he pointed his sword at the girls—"I don't give a damn about. I might just as soon deflower them and kill them as look at them any longer. That's why I kept them untied, waiting for them to try and run off. It'd give me an excuse then. But they're smart, I'll give them that." As he spoke he neared the girls, and reached out to grab Shyla by the hair, giving it a vicious tug. Before the young Amazon cried out in pain, Gabrielle was in motion. She launched herself into a roll, stopping to within 3 feet of him, and with all the strength of her powerful legs, landed a solid kick in his solar plexus. He doubled over in pain. It was not enough to disable him, but he dropped the sword he was carrying. To distract him ever further, Shyla landed a kick in his groin. Quick-thinking Dorit grabbed the sword. "Quick!" Gabrielle hissed. "Cut the ropes!" Dorit started to cut away the binds of Gabrielle's legs. The remaining three girls took turns pummeling their captor, mainly with kicks, and as the ropes came off Gabrielle's legs she jumped up unsteadily, and the man roared, "Amon! Come quickly!!"

In a matter of seconds two other men appeared in the cave. One went to the aid of his comrade, and together they subdued the girls. The other held Gabrielle at sword point. They were all dressed identically, in black, faces concealed.

"Nice try," grunted the big man who first spoke to them.

"You have me, just let them go!" the bard shouted.

"No! They know our location. The first thing they'd do would go back to your village and tell. Next thing we know, we'll have the entire Amazon nation on our tail."

"So you're afraid of a bunch of little girls," Gabrielle sneered. This little trick she learned from Xena: Nothing upsets a man like being taunted about his bravery.

"Shut up!" snarled the man in front of her. He pressed the tip of his sword into her throat. Okay, Xena, this is not having the desired effect.

"Wait a minute," the big man said, walking toward her. Or maybe it is. "I'll tell you what. How about a little one-on-one. You fight our leader. If you win, we'll let you all go. Hades, we’ll even let the brats go if you lose. But if you do lose, you're the entertainment for the evening. And quite possibly for longer," he added menacingly.

She sighed. She felt that she didn't have a chance in Hades of winning this fight. "All right," she said softly.

*****

A sword dropped in front of her.

"I said want my staff," she said through gritted teeth.

They stood outside the cave; it was dawn. Two men guarded the girls, and the big man stood in front of Gabrielle. The man shook his head slowly. "The fight's to the death, sister. By sword. You've got to kill the boss to save yourself and your little deviants-in-training."

Gabrielle was surprised enough to ignore the "deviant" crack; so he's not the leader. She cleared her throat. "So where is this leader?"

The man backed away. From the clearing came another figure, clad, of course, in black, face covered. To Gabrielle's surprise he was smaller than the quasi-Herc before her, and looked thinner and leaner than the other muscle-bound oxen to her side. Maybe I'll have half a chance then, she thought, gathering courage.

The thin man nodded at her, and without a word drew his sword. He circled her like a predator. She stared at the sword at her foot, then cast a glance at the young Amazons, most of whom could barely mask their fear. That was how her decision was made. She picked up the sword, muttered a quick prayer to Artemis, and tried to remember the few bits of knowledge Xena had imparted concerning swords. He made contact with a clang.

It jarred her a little, but she quickly parried and, trying to think of the weapon as a staff, she went on the offensive, driving him back. He seemed a little surprised. Nonetheless he surged forward with a flurry of blows, driving her to her knees. He swung the sword back mightily, hoping to deliver a final crushing blow that would make her drop the sword, leaving her defenseless. But, using the broadside of her sword, she lunged forward and swung it into his legs, taking him down. His weapon skittered away from him, across the ground. She landed on him, her knees boring into his chest, her blade pressed to his throat. She glared into a set of dark eyes.

"Stop!" a woman's voice pleaded. The voice came from behind the mask, from under those eyes, which suddenly seemed very familiar.

In confusion, she pulled back a little. As she did so, the men around her dropped their weapons and removed their masks.

"It's all over," the large man said. He had a broad, handsome, smiling face. "You won, Gabrielle."

The girls erupted in relief, smiling as well, laughing and calling out to their Queen: "You did it!" "You were great!"

"C'mon, get off me," grunted the woman underneath Gabrielle, patting the bard's leg. Utterly, hopelessly lost, Gabrielle stood up, limply holding her sword. "What the Hades is going on around here?" she yelled. She had not expected everyone to be so blissfully happy about the turn of events. In fact, she had imagined the slavers breaking their word, and all of them.

The black-clad woman stood up and peeled off her hood and mask. It was Solari.

"Congratulations, Gabrielle," she said, a broad smile belying her solemn tone of voice, "You have completed your Test of Courage."

Of course. This was the ritual! Relief bubbled up in her and took the form of laughter. "Oh boy," she giggled. "You guys had me going..."

Solari laughed. "Did we? I think we did a great job." She turned to the three men. "I couldn't have been half as successful as I was without you guys! Gabrielle, I'd like you to meet Anton, Aris, and Amon. They're brothers, they're from Herrara, the village near the centaurs." They all grinned sheepishly at Gabrielle. Anton, the large menacing man she first encountered, was quick to apologize. "I hope we didn't hurt you at all. Or the girls either. We just meant to be scary."

Gabrielle's laughter gradually turned uneasy, as she remembered how afraid she was.

"And Dorit, Brea, and Shyla volunteered to help. They knew about the whole thing."

"I didn't though," Hessa piped up.

"We just brought her along because she's truly stupid and would be very convincing," Dorit said.

"Hey!" shouted Hessa. She shoved her friend and a squabble ensued.

Well, I was truly stupid and very convinced, thought the bard, her relief slowly turning to rage.

"Solari, I think we should be heading back to the village," Anton said, as his brothers observed the antics of the Amazons-in-training: Hessa was sitting on Dorit, while Shyla and Brea tried to shove her off. "I'll head over in two days to pick up the grain you promised us."

"Okay, Anton, and I'll include some of our port too." Solari replied. Anton grinned, and they clasped arms in a warrior handshake. Aris and Amon wandered over at last and said their goodbyes to Solari and Gabrielle; both brothers also proffered apologies. With a terse, tired smile the bard accepted them.

As the men left, the girls settled down. Solari ordered them to the river for a bath. "And don't be too long about it!" she shouted after them. "We're in safe parts, but I don't want to be worrying!" She turned and headed back toward the camp, and ran right into Gabrielle. The Queen's seething anger rolled right off her. "So that's it? We're all done?" she snapped.

Solari sighed. "Gabrielle, I truly am sorry about all of this, but it had to be done. This ritual has been a part of accepting the throne since anyone can remember. The Queen is placed unknowingly in a situation where the lives of Amazons are at risk. If she does everything in her power to save them, she wins. If she surrenders, or thinks only of herself, she loses."

"Of all the cretinous, inane practices I've seen the Amazons do, this has to be the...why..." She was so angry the words choked her.

"Just say 'stupidest.' " Solari mumbled. Tired from the effort and trouble of planning and carrying off this thing, she couldn't help but agree.

"STUPIDEST!! YES!!" Gabrielle roared. "EXACTLY the word I was looking for! Somebody could’ve been seriously hurt or KILLED." She paced furiously. Then stopped. "Gods! Xena! What about Xena?"

"Xena knew, Gabrielle. Ephiny sent a messenger to her a moon ago. She wasn't happy about it, but she agreed to help. She even procured some herbs that would knock you out without any problem, and sent them to Lydia, the healer."

"Damn that sneaky warrior!" Gabrielle cursed.

"You'll have plenty of time to yell at her tonight, Gabrielle. She's waiting for you at the village. I figured as soon as we have breakfast, we'll start home." Solari started to build a fire. "You don't know this..."

"Oh great. Another thing I don't know. Do tell."

"...but Percia was here with me too. She was to go on ahead of us--to bring the news of either your triumph or defeat to the village. Needless to say, the news will be good."

"Solari, what would've happened if I had not been successful? Say, if I had surrendered to you and let the girls get proverbially sold down the river?"

"Well, under the laws, Ephiny would be duty-bound to challenge you to the throne. Whoever won the outcome of that fight would be Queen."

Gabrielle groaned, and wearily ran a hand over her face. "Gods, if these idiot rituals don't kill us, then we end up having to kill each other."

"Well, not exactly," Solari said defensively. "These ceremonies have more than a symbolic meaning. In a way, they also act as safeguards for us, to ensure that power truly rests in the hands of the worthy..."

"Yeah, yeah, save the speeches for tonight...I trust we're gonna have a big-ass party because of this?"

Solari grinned wickedly. "You don't know the half of it."

*****

After breakfast, the day did not go well. Solari's new horse, a wild, skittish beast called—appropriately enough, Beast—broke free as she tried to saddle him. The black steed tore off into the forest, with Solari running after him in vain.

This left only one horse, the one drawing the cart which carried all their gear and supplies. And the girls as well. It would be a tight fit for all of them. "Well," Gabrielle announced to the young Amazons, "I don't mind walking most of the way, and maybe someone else can keep me company on occasion."

"We could all take turns walking. That only seems fair," Dorit said.

They finished loading the wagon. Then Solari stormed into the campsite, still carrying the bridle of her erstwhile horse. "Dammit!" she screamed, throwing the bridle on the ground. The girls moved as far away from her as possible. Gabrielle, bemused, waited with hands on hips to see where the tantrum would go.

"FIRST," the dark-haired Amazon yelled, holding a finger in front of her Queen's face, "I get chosen to do this stupid mission. Ephiny was like, 'Well, I have to coordinate the details with Xena, I can't go,' and Eponin said, 'Well I did it when Melosa ascended the throne,' " Solari mimicked both of her sisters with the whiniest of voices. "SECOND," --another finger thrust out in Gabrielle's face, in fact almost up her nose--"Xena bitch slaps me with cooked trout--"

"Cooked trout? That's a new one for her. She usually prefers her weapons uncooked," Gabrielle supplied.

Solari, on a roll, ignored this. "THIRD, Amon gets all weird on me and thinks he is in love with me! Can you believe it?" Her eyes widened in disbelief. "FOURTH, I have to fight you, and you kick my ass within minutes. How am I going to live that down?" Solari concluded with a melodramatic flourish, arms spread wide.

The Queen folded her arms. "You can blame your silly foremothers for that," Gabrielle said sternly. "Artemis forgive me." Her green eyes darted skyward. "Now, I believe we should get going." She grinned at Solari, and then clapped her friend on the shoulder. "Perhaps your luck will change once we get back to the village."

*****

The pacing began anew.

Ephiny watched once again as Xena took up prowling about her hut. Since dawn the warrior had eaten breakfast, gone for a ride on Argo, fixed the roof of Eponin's hut, helped Lydia label and organize all her herbal medicines, sparred with three warriors in the training area, and it was barely lunchtime. Now she was back in the hut, same as last night, brooding, sharpening her sword, sharpening Ephiny's sword, and generally driving the regent to distraction. Ephiny glared at the warrior from the top of the treaty she was attempting to study.

Over in a far corner of the room Xena had fished out a pile of old items from a trunk. It was mostly stuff that had belonged to Phantes, her deceased mate, things she could not bear to be rid of, clothes, knick knacks and the like. Xena held up a saddle in triumph. It was Ephiny's old saddle. It had a huge tear in its seat; Phantes had made it for her. "I could fix this, you know," she said to Ephiny.

"Xena, I have no doubt you could build a city in a day, because you have—"

"—many skills—" the warrior interjected.

"Yes," Ephiny continued, with clenched teeth, "but you are driving me absolutely mad. Go do something!!"

"There's nothing to do," Xena said flatly.

"What in Hades does Gabrielle do with you when you're like this?" Ephiny wished she could bite back the question that hung suggestively in the air. Long ago Gabrielle had confessed to Ephiny her feelings for Xena, but she was certain that the bard had not acted on them. She was also certain Xena felt the same way, and she knew that the warrior had the same ridiculous sense of propriety that the bard did. It seemed to be one thing the two women had in common. She watched Xena purse her lips seductively. Ephiny's eyes widened in anticipation; oh gods, do I really wanna know this?

"She tells me a story." Xena's voice was low, sultry. It begged the question: What kind of story?

Instead, the regent nervously cleared her throat. "Fine, let me read this treaty to you...."

There was a knock at the door. "Come," Ephiny called. Ilona, one of the scouts, came in, breathless. "Ephiny, we found Percia. She brings good news. The Queen came through the ceremony with flying colors. She, Solari, and the others are on their way to the village."

Relief washed over them all. Ephiny could see Xena's shoulders loosening from across the room. "Wonderful, Ilona."

"I'm afraid Percia was injured, however. This is why it took her longer than anticipated to reach us. She fell into a bear trap and broke her ankle. We've taken her to Lydia. Based on the time she left and the delay she had, I'd say the queen should arrive in about two or three candlemarks."

"Good, Ilona. Tell Lydia I'll be over shortly. Thanks." The scout left.

Ephiny rolled up the scroll, stood up, and stretched. "Feel better, Xena?"

The warrior merely raised an eyebrow. Ephiny laughed and shook her head. You just won't admit how much that woman means to you, will you? she thought. "I'm off to Lydia's. Try to stay out of trouble for the next two or so candlemarks until your bard arrives, okay?"

As the door closed behind Ephiny, Xena allowed herself to sink into a chair. My bard indeed, she thought with a smile. For the first time in two days, she allowed herself to fall into a deep sleep. It seemed as if she had just stepped into Morpheus's realm when the sound of excited voices awakened her.

As Xena stepped out of the hut, she saw a horse-drawn cart coming through the entrance of the village, flanked by two Amazon girls. She immediately identified Gabrielle's red-gold head in the cart, along with Solari and two other girls. The bard seemed head and shoulders above the others (how fitting, the warrior thought, with a stupid grin on her face), as if she were sitting on something in the cramped wagon. With long strides she approached the cart, which was quickly surrounded by other Amazons, including Ephiny. Drawing closer, with the bard's back to her, it became clear that Gabrielle was sitting in Solari's lap: her slender, muscular arms were casually thrown around the Amazon's shoulders. Xena blinked. This can't be happening. She doesn't have feelings for Solari...does she? What in Hades happened out there? Warily she circled around the throng of bodies to get a better look at the two women.

Gabrielle was indeed perched triumphantly in Solari's lap. She was grinning and animatedly answering Ephiny's questions; the regent had managed to plow through her sisters until she was pressed up against the cart, right next to the Queen. Solari wriggled nervously under Gabrielle's weight. A teasing voice, probably Eponin, shouted out, "Hey, Sol! Where's your horse?"

"Shut up!!!" Solari shouted in response. An exasperated look crossed her face, until her eyes met Xena's. The swarthy Amazon paled under the scrutiny of the ice blue eyes.

"Yeah, then I knocked out the big guy and managed to untie myself..." Gabrielle was telling Ephiny.

Furiously, Solari swatted the bard's thighs. "Ouch!" Gabrielle cried, scowling at Solari. "What wrong with you?"

"The game's over, Gabrielle," Solari hissed in her ear. "Xena sees us! Haven't you been paying attention? And she looks like she's going to make a trophy out of me any minute now."

Gabrielle swerved her gaze onto the Warrior Princess. Their eyes locked. For a nanosecond Gabrielle thought she saw a flicker of hope, of desire, in those azure eyes. Then a sheen of jealousy and anger draped over the warrior's gaze. Unperturbed, she grinned lasciviously at Xena, an eyebrow cocked. I've got you now, she thought. Why else would you be so jealous, Xena?

"Okay," she said to Solari and stood up.

The Amazon stood up, her numb, achy legs crying out in relief. "By the gods you weigh a ton," she muttered.

Gabrielle playfully backhanded her in the gut.

"Sol, meet me in my hut in about a candlemark or two. We need to discuss tonight," Ephiny said.

"Right," Solari responded. She continued to stretch her legs and noticed she was still being watched by Xena. Suddenly her legs found new strength as she vaulted over the cart's side, sending a group of women scattering, and took off running toward her hut. She knew Xena could catch up with her easily, but she figured she'd make the warrior work for it. But the warrior merely grinned evilly and let it go.

With a neat leap Gabrielle too exited the cart. Xena cut a swath through the hovering Amazons, right up to the bard and Ephiny.

"Xena," Gabrielle said coolly.

"Gabrielle," the warrior responded in greeting, her low voice caressing the name in spite of her churning emotions.

"How wonderful, you both recognize each other after this long and grueling separation," Ephiny cracked. "Xena, you'll forgive us, but I need to discuss this evening's ceremony with Gabrielle. and since you are not Amazon royalty you cannot be privy to this information. So do go sharpen your sword for the millionth time, or twist Solari into a knot if you like."

The warrior's jaw shifted. Damn. If Ephiny saw that look she gave Solari, how many of the others did? As she mentally kicked herself, Gabrielle and Ephiny walked away. She was too busy glaring into space to notice the glance that Gabrielle threw over her shoulder as she walked away, a look filled with more love than the Warrior Princess could have imagined..

*****

I must be in love.

Mel reached this conclusion after dinner.

So I let this woman eat all the chicken, and God knows the next time I'll get chicken, there is a war going on, and I let her into daddy's liquor cabinet, where she promptly opened the last bottle of whiskey, the one that daddy had been saving for a special occasion, and now she's talking about something I have the least amount of interest in, and she refuses to talk about what is foremost on my mind, which is the scroll. If I may quote Miss Covington herself, "Son of a bitch."

"That bastard had an arm. Nailed him right at the plate. I was so upset I cried," Janice was saying, when Mel return her focus to the conversation.

"You cried over baseball?" Mel was incredulous.

Janice merely grinned. She knocked back another glass of whiskey. Mel eyed the Bushmills bottle sitting next to her guest. It was already half-empty.

"If I may ask, how much did you have to drink at this bar?" Mel said, with a note of concern.

Janice shrugged. "Dunno. Just a couple beers."

"Where did you go?" Mel asked, only mildly curious. She noticed the young woman's gaze suddenly clouded over and took up a rather intense, preoccupied study of her footwear. Janice tried to keep the defensiveness out of her tone when she said, "Why? Are you an expert on bars, Mel? Have you ever seen the inside of one?"

"Why, yes I have. Not here, though. A beau from Vanderbilt once took me to one in Nashville. A 'dive,' I believe he called it." Mel concluded defiantly. See if you can shock me, Janice Covington!

The archaeologist's emerald eyes glittered. "A beau, eh?"

Mel flicked her wrist dismissively. "Actually, he was hardly that. He liked me, but the feeling wasn't mutual. He tried to have his way with me after we left this bar. Right in the car!" she said indignantly.

Janice smirked. Yes, she could believe that. How many times had she tried to do the same with many a young lady?

"You haven't answered my question, though," the dark-haired woman continued. Her curiosity became aroused as soon as she saw how evasive Janice was about it.

"I just don't see why it matters. They're all the same." It was escalating into a battle of will.

"I suppose this is true enough. And if that is the case, then all the more reason for you to have no problem telling me where you went." Mel bit her lip. She sounded like a jealous lover, but she couldn't help herself.

Silence. Janice gripped the whiskey bottle by the neck and poured herself another. Dammit, she thought grimly. One more for the road, cause she'll surely kick my sorry ass outta here. I could lie, but she deserves more than that. She drained her glass, the familiar burning sensation giving her courage. Let's get it over with. She sighed, and stared into the empty glass. "I'm sure you've heard of a little place called the Gilded Lily," she said in a low voice. Part of her hoped Mel hadn’t. The other part hoped she did.

Mel's blue eyes widened. She was horrified and thrilled all at once. A speakeasy in the 1920s, the Gilded Lily took on a more secretive and exclusive persona once the decade ended. It became known in polite circles as a meeting place for homosexuals and the most elite of call girls. And call boys. Nobody in their right mind would be caught dead there, although many from the highest strata of Charlotte and surrounding areas knew of it, and frequented it. It was rumored that a certain senator was a steady customer. And all effeminate boys were teased with such comments as, "Bet you're at the Gilded Lily every night!"

"Oh my," Mel murmured. "Janice, how did you know about the Gilded Lily?"

"How do you think, Mel?" Janice retorted. "Word gets around when you move in the circles I do. You find out where all the queers meet. There's one in every town. Trust me, I know."

The tall woman was silent as dozens of thoughts raced through her.

Janice slammed the glass down. "Well, I should go."

"Go where? To sleep?" Mel asked innocently.

"No, I'll leave now. It's still early enough, I might be able to catch the night train up north."

"Don’t be ridiculous," Mel said. She didn’t know what else to say, as her mind processed this interesting new fact. She’s like me. Could she feel the same way? The way she looks at me sometimes...am I crazy to think she might?

"Who’s being ridiculous? I just assume you don’t want a pervert in your house," Janice's tone was defiant, but her voice was also tight and strangled. "I'm sorry, Mel. Now you see why I didn't want to tell you." She stood up and started to walk quickly into the house. Mel stood up too, and snagged Janice’s arm with a surprisingly strong grip.

"Wait a minute!" Mel said angrily. "I want you to tell me—" Janice tried to pull away with a sudden jerk of her arm. Mel yanked back even harder, and the slingshot effect caused the archaeologist to be flung against her body. Instinctively her arms wrapped around Janice, who had placed a hand upon her shoulder.

Janice looked at her. She saw fear, of course; she was afraid herself. And desire, she was certain. "Tell you what?" Janice whispered.

"Tell me everything," Mel replied softly. She leaned in and kissed Janice very gently, upon the lips. She wasn't sure what she meant by that, but she knew the knowledge she sought was imparted when Janice returned the kiss in full force.

*****

"You're a very naughty girl."

Gabrielle's ears burned. Many times she had imagined Xena saying something similar in various erotic scenarios (discipline me, Warrior Princess!), but the voice was not Xena's. She turned around and saw Ephiny standing in the doorway of her hut.

"Ephiny! What do you want? I'm almost ready." After a brief meeting in the regent's hut, Gabrielle returned to the hut that served as hers when she was at the village. She bathed, and dressed in full Amazon regalia. As she fumbled with a bracer on her arm, she added, "And what d'you mean by that?"

"Solari told me. About your little idea to make Xena jealous."

Gabrielle laughed. "It seemed like the perfect plan. The cart was already small, so as we pulled up to the village I sat in her lap--"

"Gabrielle, the poor woman is terrified to leave her hut. She thinks Xena is going trounce her from here to the coast." Ephiny looked around the room in a cursory manner. "And speaking of tall, dark, and handsome, where is she?"

"With the horse, of course," the bard queen responded with a rhyming flourish. "She knows she has to be here soon." Pause. "She BETTER be here soon...'cause I don't have a backup plan." She fiddled nervously with her skirt.

Ephiny smirked. "Well, if it comes to that, you'll certainly not lack for other choices."

The bard held up a hand. "It's not even a possibility," she said firmly.

"I know," Ephiny replied. The women exchanged a smile.

"You know what?" A voice said from behind the regent. With a shriek, Ephiny jumped forward, out of the doorway, revealing Xena standing behind her.

"Hera's tits, Xena, you could say HELLO! You know, announce yourself!" sputtered Ephiny.

Xena blinked with mock innocence. "I thought I did," she said sweetly. Gabrielle giggled.

Ephiny pointed a warning finger at her. "Don't you encourage her, bard. I'll see you two in a few minutes." With that, she departed.

Xena sprawled out in a chair. She watched Gabrielle brush out her golden hair. "So what does Ephiny know?" she asked casually.

"Huh?"

"Ephiny said, 'I know,' What does she know?"

With a toss of her head Gabrielle let her face be protected by a mass of hair while she contemplated a white lie. "Ephiny knows..." How much I love you? How I long to spend the night in your arms? How every movement of your body thrills me to the core? Suddenly a large hand thrust into the curtain of hair and parted it cleanly from her face, revealing Xena's face, resplendent with arched eyebrow. The warrior's other hand took Gabrielle's brush. With smooth strokes she combed the bard’s hair back from her face. "She knows..." Xena began again. Her lips were scant inches from the bard’s. The warrior thought she heard a gulping noise from behind those lips.

"...a really great nutbread recipe." Gabrielle concluded. The raised eyebrow twitched. Xena circled her slowly, until she stood behind the bard, and resumed brushing the hair.

"I see."

*****

It was a long evening. Xena had managed to pass most of the night nursing a mug of port and talking weapons. To her dismay she noticed that many of the Amazons were still around; few had departed early. From across the room she saw Gabrielle holding court, talking and grinning with a group that included Solari. Earlier Xena had waylaid the dark Amazon to assure her that she was not going to kill, maim, or mutilate her. Solari was so relieved she forgot herself and hugged the startled warrior.

Ephiny tried to walk behind Xena unnoticed, but before she got too far she noticed her wrist caught in a powerful grip. "When in Hades does this thing end?" Xena hissed to the regent.

"Xena, as someone trying to change her wicked ways, you might be interested to know that patience is a virtue," Ephiny replied tartly.

"Patience is not something I'm interested in picking up," growled the warrior.

Oh, I think I know what you’d like to pick up, Ephiny thought. But instead she said, "Okay, how about this. Sometimes you can get soooo preoccupied--you know, say you're at a party and you're having a really good time--that before you know it, it's over."

Xena was about to make a comment about Ephiny’s increasing propensity for sarcasm when she noticed something. Suddenly the room was very quiet and still. Gabrielle was alone on the podium, wearing her ceremonial mask. Women were lining up in two rows, solemnly, at opposite sides of the room. Solari, in a cluster of guards near the podium, made a hurry up face at Ephiny. The regent whispered to Xena, "See? There you are. Now get in a line, please."

Ephiny took her place beside the Queen on the dais. Silence draped the room. Slowly the Queen rose and stepped off the platform.

Xena watched, fascinated, as she witnessed Gabrielle do something she did numerous times as a warlord: she surveyed her "troops." She walked slowly down the line opposite the warrior, stopping in front of every woman. The mask would tilt downward and up again. Without a word she would move on to the next one. Every Amazon stood rigid, shoulders thrown back, face impassive, knees together.

She started on the second line, the one Xena was in. Was she to stand at attention as well? I practically stand that way all the time anyway, she thought, as the Queen began her slow procession down the line. It seemed as if she picked up her pace as she approached the warrior, because before Xena knew it, Gabrielle stood in front of her. Xena could barely see the eyes glinting within the mask. She felt a shiver at this silent appraisal by her best friend, part of it was fear-based, the other part was an excitement she could not quite admit to herself. Then the Queen moved on. There were six other women after Xena, then the inspection ended.

The Queen moved to the center of the room. Ephiny left the dais and walked to her, placing a small metal object in her hand. Then Gabrielle turned and walked to Xena. She stood in front of the warrior once again, and held out the object in her hand. It was a key. To what, the warrior had no idea.

Ephiny had sidled up next to Gabrielle. "Do you accept?" she said to the warrior.

Dumbfounded, Xena nodded. Is this what I think it is? A seduction, in front of the Amazon nation?

"Then take it," Ephiny prompted with a silky tone.

Gently she picked up the silver key from Gabrielle’s hand. Gabrielle withdrew a step. The regent moved closer to Xena, holding a dark strip of cloth in her hand. "I must blindfold you," she said, almost apologetically. The warrior, with a quick glance at the Queen, nodded her consent. The world went dark and a sliver of panic wheedled its way through her. To calm herself she pictured the vivid colors of Gabrielle’s hair. She felt a reassuring touch on the arm. "We must carry you now," Ephiny’s voice whispered to her. She was swept up into the air, and she counted four pairs of hands cradling her body. She felt as if she were on a ship again, a breeze moved over her, and then she could tell they were outside by the smells and crickets, and branches on the ground snapping underneath her. It was cool outside.

I can’t believe I’m letting a bunch of Amazons blindfold me and carry me around like a sack of turnips, she thought. There goes the reputation. She hadn’t been aloft for long when the air warmed, and the sounds changed. She was inside again, and being lowered to a floor, covered with a rug. Sudden heat greeted her on one side, then a crackle. A fire. A door closed. Silence. She sensed she was not alone. Someone lingered near her. She smiled. She knew this person’s scent well. A body straddled her legs, and she jumped a little at the contact. The blindfold loosened and fell off. She blinked, and there was Gabrielle, smiling down at her. The fire deepened the russet and gold of her hair, and the apple colored flush of her cheeks; her eyes flashed green, gray, and blue. She reminded Xena of one of those rare rainbows seen after a storm.

Gabrielle let her fingers idly trace the strong lines of Xena’s face.

"I think," the warrior said in a soft voice, "that this is one ceremony I could get to like."

She was rewarded with a grin from her soon-to-be-lover. "Well, then...Hail to the Queen, baby," Gabrielle replied, with a kiss.

#xena #xena warrior princess #xena/gabrielle #xena/gabrielle fanfiction #mel/janice #mel/janice fanfiction #author: vivian darkbloom #mature

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adventk-blog · 7 years ago

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— ARE YOU WHO YOU WANT TO BE,

introducing MIN YOONGI, a MUTANT, — and currently a believer of SEPARATION. age ( twenty-four ) and gifted with the ability of DARKNESS MANIPULATION, they are currently working as a DETECTIVE.

WE ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN STORIES,

from the second he’s born, yoongi’s life is riddled with everything but luck.

several weeks premature, he’s born into the world a few pounds light and with no mother to nurse him when he cries. instead, he gets a dad who immediately resents him and, later in life, incessantly blames him for the death of his mom and for his spiral down into alcoholism. luck gives him his grandmother, at least, who raises him through his early years more than his dad ever does.

he grows up in daegu, half out on the outskirts on a small farm his grandma runs, and half a little more ways into the city, in a cramped apartment that only makes the stench of soju and beer and vodka that much more pungent whenever his dad bothers to stumble in. for the earlier years of his life, he manages to avoid that, spends most of his time at the farm, out on the grassy hills, the trees he climbs, getting dirt on his knees and scratches on his arms. his grandma teaches him how to cook, how to hand wash his laundry, how to hide in the closet when his dad drops by banging walls and slurring yells that he’s long since forgotten the contents of, locked somewhere in the back of his mind.

and that’s all he learns from her until he’s six, until luck takes back what it’s given him.

he grows up quickly and on his own from then on, takes the skills his late grandmother taught him to cook ramen with egg, to wash the smell of cigarettes off his school uniform, to hide in his closet when his dad comes home late at night with anger in his every footstep. it’s with his continuous, long nights huddled in darkness that his body starts adapting to it in superhuman ways.

at eight, he doesn’t realize this, barely notices the clarity with which he can see in the middle of the night, is only slightly irritated by how much brighter the sun seems to shine, how much hotter it seems to feel. he’s got other things to worry about, after all. like having to find food whenever his dad would disappear (including, but not limited to: swiping snacks from the convenience store downstairs, talking up the grandmas at the food market, at the food stall by his school), or like school, where the other kids would tease him endlessly, about the thinness of his body, the expired kimbaps he would bring for lunch, among other, worse things he’s also long since locked up with the rest of his repressed memories.

it’s not until four years later that he discovers he has powers on complete accident.

he’s only twelve but he’s already jaded, hardened from being constantly barraged, self-esteem thoroughly destroyed. and he’s exhausted, hates being passive, and so he stops, snaps. when his dad raises his hand, yoongi follows suit, a block of tangible darkness forming at his fingertips and blocking his dad. the following, abrupt quiet is deafening, stretching on for what feels like eternity until yoongi lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

in the following days, his dad doesn’t speak to him but that’s the last thing he worries about, instead now much more focused on the darkness swirling at his fingertips. he spends the rest of his teenage years getting by on barely above average grades, cutting back at anyone who tries to tease him, and no longer cowering in the darkness but thriving in it. he stays up late trying to learn what he can do, heads out into the dark streets of daegu to test his shadow camouflage until he perfects it by fifteen, constantly manifests a solid ball of darkness in the palm of his hands, throwing it hard at walls and checking for dents to make sure it’s real. and by seventeen he all but masters basic manipulation, can reliably shape and solidify darkness into swords, bows, arrows, and anything else he can.

when he’s close to graduating, he’s more than eager to get out of his apartment. his dad hasn’t dared to raise a hand at him for years, but he doesn’t miss the snide remarks, the resentment in his tone that’s only gotten worse over the years. so he applies as far as he can, applies to lower ranking universities anywhere that’s not daegu, along with the national police university in seoul because his closest friend does, it’s free, and it’s not like he’s got much else of a concrete plan to follow aside from getting away.

to his (and almost everyone else he know’s) surprise, he’s accepted and he moves almost immediately without a goodbye to his father.

for a while, he actually enjoys it, finds himself paying more attention to lectures and enjoys the weight of a gun in his hands. he graduates with a sense of pride that he hasn’t felt in years, he does his rotation work without much complaint and moves to incheon when he gets transferred there. it’s not seoul but he likes it well enough until his rotation work is almost over and the video is broadcasted across the city and anger rises in him that he thought he’d long since quelled.

still, he keeps quiet about his own mutation as he always has to his co-workers and superiors, and continues to practice on his own after hours, especially now after accidentally discovering his ability to puppet other people when jokingly manipulating a friend’s shadow.

but now, just a few months into his newly obtained detective position, he hates the idea of working for the government, being on the side that tries to quiet the type of riots he joins on his days off. but at the same time, he enjoys the power, enjoys using his position as leverage. likes taking freedom, pride, and dignity away from others the same way his had all been taken from him. and, really, he’s got nowhere to go. so, he stays.

THERE IS FLESH AND BLOOD BEHIND THESE TALES,

as a whole, yoongi’s a paradox, polarizing, both sides of a coin at the same time.

he’s honest, but dishonest. honest in that he’s blunt, won’t mince words to spare your feelings if he doesn’t need to. but dishonest in that he’s shameless, doesn’t adhere to anyone’s rules but his owns, will do anything it takes to get what he wants even if that means going against the oath he took to protect and serve, even if he goes against the laws he works to supposedly uphold.

he’s charming, but abrasive. charming in that when he needs to, he can ramp up the gumminess of his smile, the quickness of his wit, can make you feel comfortable around him for as long as he needs to. but abrasive in that if he really has no use for you, he’s curt and easily irritable, obnoxiously sarcastic and dry.

all in all, the common denominator lies in the fact that he’s selfish. he puts himself first and second and everything and everyone else third. he’s always just been out for himself and is both determined and shameless enough to not care about who or what he tramples over in the process. he’s not entirely self-absorbed in that he makes everything about him in conversation, though. in fact, he prefers not to share anything about himself at all, instead opting for sarcasm and dry wit to deflect talking about himself in a serious manner, or faking arrogance, pretending he thinks more highly of himself than he really does.

AND EVEN MONSTERS CAN LEARN TO WEEP.

darkness manipulation —

yoongi’s mutation allows him to manipulate darkness (including shadows) in various ways. for example he can generate more darkness from a starting point, but perhaps most notably: he can solidify it and shape it into tangible items, like weapons or shields or other miscellaneous items he may need. APPLICATIONS :

shadow camouflage —

this application allows him to, essentially, become invisible to the naked eye in darkness and shadow.

darkness adaptation —

a more passive application, darkness adaptation allows yoongi to, well, adapt to darkness. meaning, his senses are heightened but it’s most notable in his eyesight, which allows him to see clearly in darkness as if it was fully lit. a few of his other senses are heightened a bit as well, particularly his hearing and sensitivity to touch, but they’re not nearly as useful as his night vision and don’t affect him as much.

shadow marionette —

currently the newest application he’s discovered and still has a difficult time controlling, shadow marionetting allows yoongi to manipulate someone else’s movements by manipulating their shadow. LIMITATIONS :

his main ability to solidify and shape darkness is limited in several ways:

— anything he makes is very temporary in that he has to generally maintain physical contact with anything he constructs. meaning, he can’t just construct a scythe once and then set it aside for a while until he needs to use it again because it will dissipate, forcing him to always recreate his weapons or shields whenever he needs them.

— there is a bit of leeway to that, however. for example, he can create bows and arrows out of darkness, and his shaped arrows will stay solidified for a bit longer despite not being in his hands. in general, the smaller the item, the longer it can stay tangible without physical contact. it never surpasses more than a few minutes, though, and it’s attached to his mental concentration as well.

— while in theory he can construct anything, he has to have seen the item before and have a general idea of what its parts look like and how they fit together to perfectly shape it. for example, if he knew the inner machinations of a gun by memory he could certainly shape a working one, but, well, he doesn’t. this is generally why he sticks to simpler made weapons like scythes or swords that aren’t as difficult to memorize.

— as of right now, he can’t generate shadows and darkness out of thin air, but he can create more if he has a starting point. so, he always needs a source of darkness before he can manipulate it, even if it’s just his own shadow. the amount of darkness he can augment is highly dependent on his concentration and energy, both physical and mental. if he’s tired or injured and in pain, it takes a lot more out of him to generate even just a small amount. but if he’s in ideal shape and isn’t distracted, he can generate quite a bit.

similarly, his applications are limited in that:

— shadow camouflage is just that: camouflage. meaning, it only hides him from the sense of sight. otherwise, his footsteps, breathing, voice, etc. are all still audible, his cologne or any other odor on him can still be smelt, and he can still be felt if someone accidentally or purposefully reaches for him.

— shadow camouflage also, of course, requires darkness for him to remain hidden and the less darkness there is the harder it is for him to camouflage himself. for instance, he can always augment shadows during the daytime to try and hide himself in that, but it’s more difficult in comparison to him just camouflaging himself during nighttime. and if someone shines a light in his general direction, the camouflage is broken.

— darkness adaptation gives him the upper hand in darkness , but it comes at the cost of his senses being less effective in lightness (in particular: his eyesight). his eyes are more sensitive to light, but he can still see relatively well enough – as long as he’s wearing glasses to see things far away.

— while the only sense that’s truly diminished in lightness is his eyesight, he’s also just much more sensitive to light in general. heat from light (the sun, lightbulbs, etc.) feels a lot hotter to him than most, and in particular sunlight can damage his skin a lot easier than most.

— regarding his shadow marionette ability, he can only manipulate one person’s movements at a time. moreover, he can’t completely take over his target’s motor function just yet. if the target is able, they can try to resist his manipulation and move their body on their own volition. additionally, his effective range is quite short right now as the person can only be three feet away before his manipulation of their shadow no longer affects them.

— regardless of his mastery of the marionette ability, one limitation that is always the same: he cannot make their bodies do anything physically and humanly impossible. for example, he can’t enlarge their shadow and expect the target to also balloon up, or he can’t twist their arms in a way that physics doesn’t allow, etc.

THREAT LEVEL HERE. 02+ BRWN, 01+ RSLNC, 06+ INTLCT, 05+ WLLPWR, 06+ FGHTNG, 04+ SPD

#avt: follow #krp #kpop rp #min yoongi #tw: death #tw: abuse #tw: alcoholism

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