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angxlyxn · 4 years ago

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pet - dabi x f. reader

summary: Dabi is intent on showing everyone just who you belong to.

warnings: NONCON, light smut, obsessive behavior, burning/branding, captivity, talk about body weight/appearance, emotional and physical abuse, suicidal/dark thoughts

a/n: hello lovelies! this is actually my first requested piece on this account, and was sent in by the lovely @hotwings0203 <33. i’m sorry that it’s not some of my best work, because i wasn’t entirely sure how to approach writing for someone like Dabi, but i tried my best! thank you so much for requesting this love, it was so fun to write and i hope you enjoy it anyways!

wc: ~2.8k

“Hey, dollface.”

You jolted up at the sound of the harsh voice, the gruffness of it scratching against your ears and causing you to cringe a bit.

“Look at me, won’t you mousey?” He called again. You hesitantly shifted in your spot, turning to face Dabi with a blank expression on your face. You made an effort to show as little emotion as possible, flattening out your features and trying not to give him an opportunity to take advantage of your natural timidity.

“Come ‘ere,” he said simply, a bit of bile catching in your throat as he jerked his fingers towards himself, the motion reminiscent of an owner calling an unruly pet to his side. You carefully walked up to him, each step sending a series of prickles through your toes, the soft skin on your feet feeling as though it was being punctured by a bunch of needles.

He held a palm up just as you reached him, signaling you to stop and wait for his next command. Like a pet. He smirked a bit at your obedience, dropping his hand lazily onto his lap and leaning back into his chair, legs widening and posture relaxing as his cerulean eyes drank in your stilled body.

“Hm..You’re getting too thin, angelface.” His calloused hand shot out, grazing your stomach and pressing into your hip bone. “You’re all skin and bone,” he said with a little too much glee.

You couldn’t deny his remarks. You had been here for so, so long, and taking care of you wasn’t exactly Dabi’s first priority. The sickly way that your shoulder bones were pushing through your skin and the torn babydoll covering your body attested to that. The nightgown that so sparsely covered you wasn’t even yours, in fact, but one that Dabi had mysteriously obtained from a house that he definitely did not burn down.

“Come,” he said simply, resting a hand down on his lap. It was not a suggestion, but a command. You shamefully lowered your eyes, obediently following his directions and sitting upon his knees in a less than graceful fashion. Your back was fully upright, form tense and rigid in the uncomfortable position. Dabi, however, was not a fan of your reluctance, and suddenly wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you backwards into his chest and grazing the top of your head with his scarred chin. You fell into him, limp and powerless against his vice-like grip on your torso, feeling much like a ragdoll as you rested your body against his.

A laugh bubbled out of Dabi’s lips as he held you. “Really, look at your ribs!” He said, snatching up the hem of the gown and pulling it up to your chest. You flinched at the exposure, still not fully accustomed to the fact that he could do that to you, that he could do anything to you. His hand moved down to your lower half, pressing into your hip bone uncomfortably and toying with it in a disgusting manner. Still his fingers fell lower, gripping your inner thigh and grazing over your clothed heat, an involuntary shiver erupting across your legs as he did so.

“Little whore,” he chuckled lightly. He finally released your dress, letting it settle back over your legs and he pulled his other hand away from where it was laying tantalizingly upon your creamy thigh. You let out a breath that you were holding in as he did so, glad to be free from his teasing touches. His fingers settled in your hair, petting it lightly, although his gentle massaging provided you with little comfort. Instead, they just felt patronizing.

Your body jolted as he fastened his fingers on your scalp, pulling harshly on your locks and flinging your chin backwards as he tugged. A gasp left your lips, followed by a light whimper as you moved to try and resist him, body squirming and fingers pulling against his arms pathetically. “Now tell me,” he spoke as you struggled. “Why aren’t I enough for you?” You looked at him, confused, your body stilling despite his burning grip on your hair.

“W-What?”

“I see how you act around crusty over there,” he said, nodding to the door that led out of his bedroom. You assumed that he was talking about Shigaraki, the nickname seeming too cruel for the man, who had been at least more civil to you than Dabi ever was. “You basically whore yourself out to him and the other guys whenever I allow you to talk to ‘em. Fucking beggar.”

“I don’t k-know what you mea-”

“God, really? It’s bad enough that you’re a slut, but turns out you’re stupid too,” He said, seething. “The way you talk to them, like you’re begging for them to fuck you. The way you let your dress ride up on your legs when you sit near them. I see it all, dolly.” You cringed once more at the nickname. You thought about his accusations, trying to look for a way out of this situation, preferably one where you don’t end up with burn marks all over your neck. Survival instincts kicked in as you softened your body, turning your brows up slightly and pouting a bit. You looked like a child, or maybe a lost puppy. Exactly what Dabi liked.

“I’d never give myself to anyone b-but you,” you said, slurring your words and stuttering purposefully.

“Mm..” Dabi hummed. “Really pet?”

You shook your head affirmatively, swallowing down the bile that had made its home in your throat. He looked down upon you, his eyes gleaming contentedly, cerulean orbs penetrating the dim light of the room.

“Prove it.”

Your eyes widened a bit, pupils dilating as a smirk stretched across his cruel face.

“Down.” His eyes flicked to the floor, gazing upon the cold cement that lay beneath his planted feet. His grip on your hair released as you moved to get up, legs shaking as you lowered yourself before him, kneeling on the icy floor.

“You know what to do now, don’t you pet?” You gulped heavily at his words, letting your eyes drift to the sickening bulge in his pants. Trembling hands reached out and undid his belt, your fingers fumbling awkwardly with the buckle as you did so.

“Good.” You watched with bated breath as he slid his pants button out of its hole and unzipped his pants. He reached into his boxers next, freeing his cock and looking down at you expectantly.

You reached your hands out once more, this time taking hold of his throbbing member. Your fingers grew slick with a bit of precum, delicate digits tracing it down his shaft as you massaged it. Dabi’s head fell back as you finally took his dick into your mouth and maneuvered yourself closer to him, just as you knew he would want. Your tongue glided over it, caressing the veins that sat on his length as you licked up and down his cock. He let out a sinful groan, letting his hand wander to your hair and grabbing your locks back up between his calloused digits.

“Hnnn...Little whore, that’s right…” He murmured, looking down on you with a piercing gaze. “Getting..close,” he said, and you took this as your sign to up your already strenuous pace. You nursed him to his climax, cringing as he finally peaked, a moan tumbling involuntarily from your lips as he began to shake. He emptied his load into your mouth, ribbons of white painting your throat like a canvas. A gasp left you as he pushed you back, causing you to scrape your hands against the floor beneath you as you caught yourself, seed dribbling down your chin and falling onto the silken fabric of your nightdress. He stared you down, catching his breath as he tucked himself back into his pants.

“Swallow.” The word came out breathy and depraved. Your eyes widened a bit. You never got used to this part, despising the taste of the salty streams that always coated your mouth after your sessions. Cringing, you willfully gulped down and licked the area around your lips, gazing up at him with watery eyes, just as you knew he liked.

Dabi looked down at your disheveled state, eyes roaming over your body and brows downturning in fake pity. He reached his hand out, gliding his finger beneath your lash line and gleaning the tears that had gathered there. “Poor little slut…” He drew his tear-coated finger from your face, lifting it to his mouth and running his tongue along the wet digit. He rubbed his hand against his charcoal colored pants before standing up, purposefully stepping over your vulnerable form and accidentally clamping the sole of his shoe down on your locks, which were splayed across the chilled floor of the room.

You whimper in pain, the tug on your hair adding to your already aching headache. He gazed back down at you, mockery swirling within his cruel eyes. “I’m sorry angel, did that hurt?” He pouted down at you. His words were far too enunciated, making you feel like a child as you laid helplessly. “Here, let me help you up.” Dabi reached his arm out for you to grab, intertwining his long fingers with your quivering hand.

He pulled up on your arm, dragging you upwards from the floor. Just as you thought the whole ordeal was over, you felt a searing pain spread through your hand. You tried your hardest to tug away from the man, who was now wearing a sickening grin on his face as the familiar burn of his flames licked across your palm. “Agh!” You screamed in anguish as you writhed around. “Stop it! STOP! PLEASE!” He doesn’t cease his torture, instead just looking on as the flames began to dance up your arm.

Before you can even try to beg him again, he begins to speak, voice uncharacteristically soft. “Oh dollface, you know I can’t stop. I got to prove to everyone that you’re my favorite little plaything. My little doll.” You looked at him in complete horror and began to scream, your full body convulsing at the sheer pain that he was inflicting on you. You watched him out of the corner of your tear-brimmed eyes as his eyes widened at your thrashing form. The pain suddenly lessened as his grip on your hand let up, but your arm was still throbbing. You were certain that it was going to scar.

Looking down, you realized that the burn had managed to form some sort of spiral pattern around your arm, the burn marks looking almost akin to vines. Sliding down the wall and cradling your injured arm, you sobbed to yourself, not even taking notice as Dabi left the room. Your only focus was on your limp limb, and the horribly apparent scars that now covered it.

Dabi shut the door behind him, clicking the lock into place and leaning against it for support. His head was spinning, thoughts mingling and grating against the expanse of his mind. For some reason, seeing you so utterly despaired and broken after he burned you had pained him. He tried vainly to push that thought from his mind, the very notion of empathy so foreign to him that it disgusted him, that it repulsed him to his very core. Before he knew it, his mind had wandered over to his childhood, to the many tortuous years that he had long sought to forget. He remembered the cruel way that Enji had conducted himself around his mother, the way that he would shove her around and condescend her without a care in the world. He shook the thoughts off quickly, pushing away the guilt that was slowly climbing through his stomach and threatening to suffocate him if he spent too much time thinking about it. Before long, that shit eating grin he always seemed to wear returned to his face. He thought about the marks he had given you, the expanse of charred skin that now covered your boney arms. Now everyone knew that you belonged to him, as they should. You were his property, and others should know not to touch what belongs to him, what is rightfully his. And you were just this.

You jolted up from your position at the click of a door, dropping your arm which you were previously nursing. You backed away from his looming form as he entered the room, shutting your eyes tightly and clutching your arms to close to your chest. You felt Dabi’s presence before you as he crouched down to your level, slowly reaching out for your singed arm. You whimper as you sensed him growing closer, your eyes quietly cracking open and falling on his larger frame. You braced for his touch, drawing into yourself and shielding your face with your hands as he approached you, waiting for a strike or another flame against your milky skin. All you felt, however, was a benign grasp on your burnt arm. You hissed in pain, trying desperately to pull it back, but his hold on you wasn’t letting up, not even slightly.

“Please..let go of me. Just.. even killing me would be more merciful than this. Dabi, at this point...” You whimpered out pathetically, stopping short as the tears pooling in your eyes betrayed you and began to stream down your reddened cheeks, the trickles of tears a testament to how truly afraid you were. His sudden change in demeanor had only seemed to scare you more, uncharacteristically kind eyes boring into your own.

“You know doll, I’ve done so much to get and keep you here. Do you really think I’m going to let you go that easily? Honestly? I didn’t think you were that dumb.” You cringed at his pointed words. “Hmm.. I don’t plan on letting go of you for...however long you live, I suppose,” he finished, punctuating the threatening sentence with a chuckle. You didn’t dare say anything else as he dropped your wrist, charred arm falling into your lap. Dabi lifts his head to meet yours, sapphire gaze piercing through you. He kept eye contact as he grasped your singed arm, bringing your heavy hand to his mouth and pressing a few chaste kisses against your sensitive knuckles.

You gathered your wits and courage as you averted your eyes from him. “Why are you doing this? You’re never..like this.” He just stares at you, standing himself up and backing away from your form.

A few chuckles fall from his lips, the grating sound swiftly turning into full blown laughter as he wrapped his scarred arms around his chest. “I forgot how much I loved that fearful look in your eyes. The way you stare at me like I hold your life in my hands. It’s so..satisfying. But you know, I’ve still got to be nice to my doll every once in a while. Can’t have my little toy breaking, now can I?” You looked up at him, horrified at his condescending words. “Now, I wish I could stay, but I’ve gotta go.” Your eyes glistened as he began to stride away from you, calling back to you over his shoulder. “More heroes to kill and chaos to create, you know the drill. I’ll see you later babe. Be good for me,” he smirked. And with that, he left you alone again, locking the door behind him as he paced out of the room as though nothing had even happened.

Once you were certain that he was gone, you let yourself go. Tears poured down the apples of your cheeks and you muttered out a silent prayer, hoping that someone, anyone would hear you and free you from this horrendous place. You weeped until you tired yourself out, eventually letting yourself fall asleep. All you hoped for as you fell into your slumber was that it would be your last rest, and that soon it would be the salvation of death that would be taking you, rather than the cold embrace of sleep. Anything would be better than staying here another day, and if dying was what it took to leave, you didn’t care. You just needed to get out.

You refused to be just a mouse caught in Dabi’s trap. But deep down, you knew that might be exactly what you will remain as, for the rest of your miserable days. An animal. A toy.

A pet.

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magicalsalamander · 6 years ago

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Opal Eyes of the White Fang

Pairing▹ BTS Jungkook ⇆ Reader

Words ▹7.0 K

Warning▹ rated mature; Depictions of traumatic events, blood, witchcraft inaccuracies, explicit language, and explicit themes.

Summary▹Jungkook, a Gryffindor with a soft spot for Beast, Beings, and Sprits, is a Magizoologist that works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in the Beasts Division. However, the ignorant image he built up as a child about the department began to ware after years of working in the department; he hated the strict laws that restricted him from truly helping out all beast. Especially, because he’s half-giant, and he’s known how the law wasn’t always in creatures favors. In secret, he created a group called C.7.A (Clause 7 Army), to save Beast, Beings, and Sprits who couldn’t be protected under the department. But what happens one night when Clause 7 discovers something with opal eyes?

A/N: My first piece in four months, where did the time go? I hope you enjoy this first chapter. I apologize for the errors but know I’ll correct them soon. I was unexpectedly crunched for time, so please forgive me. The hippogriff caduceus (C7A symbol) divider indicates a mix of both characters speaking. Thank you for reading!

Masterlist | Next Chapter

After the smoke had extinguished, the lingering smell of rich oak permeated the air for a split second before the howling wind carried it away. Six cloaked figures moved deliberately as they pasted themselves against the brick wall feeling each rivet and bump of the bricks. Their black cloaks reflected the world around them seamlessly blending into the darkness of the alleyway. They made haste between the tall buildings, their feet silent on the asphalt, careful of any stray puddles and light beams despite their obscure cloaks.

As the shadows crept towards the alley’s opening nearing the moist pavement they slowed to a halt. The being at the front held up his hand, index and middle crossed, as he inspected the street. His eyes scanned the buildings that have seen time pass into modernism and wither its old concepts. The single functioning lamppost doused the freshly rained charcoal asphalt with its dim lighting; no shadow disturbed it, but the howling wind still sung chilling promises. The hollow shops were closed for the night, not a single soul disturbed the street, but no one could be sure about lingering spirits if they had awaken yet.

Just as Taehyung was about to untwist his middle and index a lone person apparated from a shop’s door. They continuously walked as they materialized, opening up their umbrella as they stepped down the stoop of the shop. They appeared from out their door, the door didn’t open, and the rain had long stopped.

They all smiled to themselves, they weren’t going to have to split up and search each shop, the target was blaringly red. Rumor confirmed, magic was there.

The six of them waited with bated breath awaiting for another being, but the coast finally seemed clear. Taehyung untangled his fingers with the clear to go-ahead. At the back of the group, Jungkook, pulled down his mask to speak to the rest, “Remember we’re in the muggle world and this place is just a rumor, don’t hesitate, don’t cause suspicion. Clear mind.” He pulled back up the black mask and only his burning eyes signaled the final go ahead to his team.

From the place the man with the umbrella had left, the six swirled through the air as they teleported and they apparated in front of the shop with a pop. Each wizard held up their wand the second they landed: one pointed the wand towards the security camera cutting the feed, the three other worked on the spell casted over the door and two kept watch. When Namjoon figured out the spell he was able to counter it, holding his wand to the knob and whispering the counter under his breath. The knob collapsed off and all of them remained complacent awaiting with hearts in their throats. When there wasn’t a sound inside, they pushed forward and hurried into the shop.

The shop was full of antiques, ones that were from the same era as the building itself. They all treaded carefully, who knew if one of these objects held a curse, in fact, the hair rising on their arms was a confirmation that at least one thing was.

“Are you sure this place is trafficking Beast? It looks like a hotspot for your grandma.” Hoseok shot the question at Jungkook.

Jungkook eyes roamed the shop, “House elves aren’t known to lie when grateful.”

“Namjoon why’d you have to break it, you’re smart enough to know how to not do that.” Taehyung picked up the knob and casted his own spell and the mechanical parts began coming back together as if nothing happened.

Namjoon sucked in his cheeks, “Could you have gotten us in though?”

Hoseok, the manager of the operation shushed them all then whispered, “You guys feel that?”

Jungkook could feel it, the magic in the floorboards, this place wasn’t an antique shop for the muggles as it seemed. The source of all the magic seemed to grumble from the back of the store. He stood in front of the group, “Don’t move.” Jungkook lowered his mask and lifted his hands around his mouth, “Appare Vestigium.” Specks of gold glittered around the room but remained heavy on footprints leading towards the back of the shop. Jungkook ducked avoiding beams, his tall stature had him nearly grazing the ceiling as he moved towards the source. They all followed along, weaving through furniture, figurines and old signs. Jungkook stopped at a gold covered door where the golden footsteps stopped. A red and white sign sat dead center stating employees only. He held his wand tight as his other hand reached for the door knob and pushed it open. The door slammed against a shelving shaking the cleaning supplies, it was just a storage room.

“What if the owner just bring in weird antiques and doesn’t know they’re magic. It could just be a storage—.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed cutting off Hoseok, he knew the guy was just scared, “It’s not.” He closed the door then turned to Namjoon, “Do you think you could get this door too?”

Namjoon stepped up to the door and tapped it with his wand. The end lighting up a heated purple causing Namjoon to hum deeply. “It’s got a stronger seal on it than the entrance.” Just as Jungkook had suspected it was just like the entrance. Namjoon turned towards them all, “Step back, at least seven paces.“ They complied as he paced by the door three times repeating softly, “Reveal the Beast, reveal the Beings, reveal the Spirts you hold secret. Aparecium! ” Namjoon whipped his wand at the door sending a strong bolt of purple at the sign. The words morphed and the entire door morphed from its teal painted wooden state into a metal butcher’s door. Namjoon stepped forward cautiously and tried the level and depressed it down and pushed into it but the door wouldn’t open.

Yoongi shielded behind Jungkook sighed, but really everyone was compared to the half-giant. The man pushed past him and shoved Namjoon to the side. He held out his wand casting a jet stream of light that zapped the lever right off. Jungkook huffed throwing his hands in the air, “Yoongi…discretion, we discussed this.”

Yoongi scoffed, “This was faster.”

Jimin unhooded himself, pushing himself through to stand in the threshold, “Guys…look.”

Their short bickering ended as the door slowly creaked open but it wasn’t a storage closet anymore. The darkness seemed everlasting as the back of the place couldn’t be see with the naked eye. Each member brought out their wands knowing what only was next. They had to go in. Jungkook stood at the threshold, yes, darkness was uninviting but he didn’t mind trespassing. “Stay with me.”

The tips lit up one by one as flashlights as they all moved into the dark as a clump engulfing themselves in the darkness. He could hear the quickened breathes of a few of the members. Hoseok being the one making the most sounds. Their footsteps echoed around them, they couldn’t tell where they were going but as long as they moved forward they knew something would come of it.

Quietness, it was so quiet.

Almost too quiet.

A high pitched hiss erupted from the darkness and Hoseok chocked on a scream sending the as Yoongi whipped around pointing his wand into the face of a creature in a cage. They intensified their lights unveiling towers, rows upon rows of cages that were stacked high to the ceiling. The short building was nothing but an illusion. It was designed much like the Hall of Prophecy.

Yoongi spoke thoughts of everyone, “What the hell?” They all took cautious steps into the “Zoo”, the creatures at the edge of the rows eyes were wide or narrowed either in fright or detest. Animals of all kinds, even muggle creatures were amongst the creatures in cages. Their eyes spoke desperation to Jungkook as he stopped to inspect a few, they were desperate for whatever nightmare they’ve witness to be over. The rumor was true, the house elf wasn’t lying. He lowered his head, covering his face with his brown hair, anger inside him boiled, how could anyone treat creatures like this?

Taehyung tugged on Jungkook’s coat to keep them all moving. It felt like forever, passing at least twenty rows, a laboratory of some sort came into light. Various tables had toiling solutions, potions, and things in formaldehyde were about. An aquarium of bowtruckles were wandering, while a few were chasing the insects in their home. Their leaves were wilted, many of them were a white-yellow instead of a ripe lime color. Acromantula Venom, Baneberry, Dragon Claw in its original form, and Iguana blood were stacked in great quantities on the shelves.

“Jeez, who’s the sick person that runs this place? Do you think the human that owns this place knows this exists?” Taehyung leaned forward inspecting the bowtruckles before it snapped at him.

“I doubt it, but the few I’ve run into…well—Muggles are a suspicious bunch,” Namjoon suggested staring at the hardware plasma screens. Large machines were running vials of unknown substances while the computer connected to them displayed data that was undecipherable to the untrained eye. Papers that were carelessly left out by whomever were cautiously inspected by Jimin, but no matter how he squinted the words wouldn’t make sense.

Jungkook stopped in his tracks, his ears picking up on sounds, then a metallic clank, “Shh, hush! I think something…something else or someone is here.” Half looked towards the rows then others around the lab, all of them were on guard wands raised. Had the wizard running this place figured out they were here? They spun around as the clanking continued, but it was coming from behind them, from behind Jungkook. Jungkook turned towards the cinderblock wall and placed his ear near the wall. The sound amplified in his ear. It was coming from “inside” the wall.

He brought up his wand and casted another opening spell, discretion forgotten. The cinderblocks shifted and moved around, like the stairs at Hogwarts, creating a jagged gap into a dark room. The metal clanked loudly echoing into the laboratory then abruptly stopped. Jungkook looked back to the rest of the group. They all had a similar look in their eyes, a mix of fright, uncertainty but determination. Jungkook bit the bullet and ducked down and slipped into the new room. There was no stopping here. It was dark, the only light coming in was from a small window letting in moonlight. The cement room was empty except for a barely moonlit large, tall, square object covered in a white sheet. Whatever was underneath was causing the meal sound as it sounded again, he was sure whatever was underneath was aware of their presence.

Jungkook slipped through the gap and signaled for them all it was safe to enter. They pooled into the room and surrounded the square sheet their wand all raised ready for a duel. Jimin dared to not approach the veiled squared too closely, “What—what is it?”

The room smelled of rusted iron and something rancid, but Jungkook couldn’t pin it to anything. Being the brave soul, he gripped an edge of the fabric, “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” and pulled the veil with a single harsh yank. The cascading fabric feel like water, pooling slowly, each and every one of them took a step back wands tighter in their grip, except for Jungkook. He was absolutely mesmerized, almost hypnotic about the beast. They held their gasp behind their mask as their eyes widened. Underneath was a prison, a cage of thick metal bars that held a beast within. A class XXXXX beast, the untamable, a creature only known to kill…a dragon.

The dragon within gracefully raised their long neck slowly. It was severely dwarfed compared to the average dragon. The scales glimmered a pale blue, but it lacked the iridescence that was normal of dragon scales. Large patches of scales were missing from its frail body, as inflamed pink skin underneath seemed to throb in pain. Its pearl eyes lacked pupils and were one dimensionally white. The horns were shaven to stubs and all of its paws lacked claws. Jungkook would guess it’s Antipodean Opaleye, but the detrimental state of the dragon made him question the breed. That breed of dragon never showed itself to humans anyways, he had only studied the beast in novels, so how did it end up here?

Jungkook heart ached as he looked over the creature, “You poor thing.” He stepped up to the cage and a harsh hiss, like a balloon being released was aimed his way. “It’s okay, It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.” Just as the dragon was about to hiss again a loud popping sound came from the laboratory. The creatures in cages began howling, yelping, and yipping at the new presence.

Instinctually all of them covered the front of the cage at the new presences. Through the jagged opening it was quiet for a moment before wisp of white-dementor-like-people began pouring into the room. They began attacking as they flooded in, sending bolts of magic. Jungkook wielded his wand like a sword, he shouted out spells to counter the high level ones thrown his way. Two moved towards him at rapid speed sending bolts in intervals, easily he was able to counter one after the other. His intentions weren’t to injury any of them extremely, he needed to bring someone in. When they got close enough he grabbed their wrist broke the wand from their hand, while punching the other. Magic be dammned sometimes a god old fashion punch did the job. The two were out like a light. Bolts of light in green, reds and blues along with incantations shot around the room. It was hard to tell who was hit and who wasn’t with the grunts coming from all directions.

Jungkook swung, dodging a bolt, but came face to face with a white cloaked figure and attempted to bring down their mask but the perpetrator grabbed his wrist. He easily picked the guy off the ground, his feet hanging in the air. He’s able to notice the wrinkling around his eyes, the man seems older. Jungkook spat, “Who! Who are you?”

The guy choked a chuckled then disapparted in his grasp, then one by one the rest of them vanished into thin air. “No! No!” Jungkook reached for the tendrils of cloaks, but the magic seeped through his fingers. His chest heaved up and down as he stood there, all of them stood alone.

Namjoon helped up a kneeling Jimin and the others were heavily breathing. “What just happened?”

“They knew.” Yoongi huffed in disbelief, “They probably saw us coming from a mile away.”

“How?” Taehyung muttered.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair trying to restore its order, “I don’t know.”

“Who are th—?”

Through the jagged entrance a figure stumbled through and each of them without hesitation zapped their wands full force cracking the cinder block. Jungkook’s eyes were narrowed fiercely, the anger rolling off of him in waves. They dare come back!

From the other end Jin’s high pitched voice resounded, “Whoa, whoa! Guys, its me!”

Yoongi groaned in exasperation, Jimin speaking for the rest, “Where were you when we needed you a second ago?”

Jin came through the gap, neck extended as he bobbed his head as he spoke, “Look, I told you I was gonna be later. I saw doors open, so I just walked right in. Do you know how d=scary coming through this was? And I got held—wait, what happened—whoa! Is that a Dragon?” Jin retreated back to the gap concealing himself by the cinder block.

Jungkook wiped the edge of his lip, a bit of blood smeared on the back of his hand. When did he get hit? He’d worry about it later. “Yes, it’s a dragon.”

Picking up a piece of their white cloak that had been torn during the fight, Namjoon spoke, “They won’t be coming back to this place.”

Jin pointed behind him still from his vantage point, “Well if they’re not coming back we need to figure out what to do with all these guys.”

Hoseok ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “There’s too many! There’s no way the Ministry won’t find out about—this.”

Jungkook stepped up to the cage expression filled with worry as the dragon laid on its side heaving, “Hey, buddy, stay with us, hang in there okay?” He gripped the bars of the cage tight, “I think I know a place.”

Jin digressed, “Were in the muggle world, how are we going to transport anything?” After deliberating they figured creating port keys and going in batches would be the best way to move all of them. It was going to take all night, but they had to do it. Taehyung was the strongest in teleportation so he was sent off to create the ports. The rest branched off into groups beginning to break down the establishment.

Under Jungkook’s breath accompanying a heavy sigh, “What did I get myself into?”

The dragon turned its head towards Jungkook who wheezed in his direction. Jungkook tilted his head, did the dragon understand what he said or was it just noise? He held the gaze of the dragon, there was something pulling him towards it, something in his guts were churning but the response was unclear. Physically shaking himself out of it he commanded to the room, “Move out!”

Your ribs ran along the metal poles of the cage and clanked it like a guard running their baton. The weight of your heavy wings on your frail body exaggerated the movement of your hips and shoulders. Regardless, you had to keep moving. You don’t know how long you’ve been pacing but resting on the solid metal floor of the cage only inflamed your nerves. There’s something unmeasurable about the way time is a torture device. How darkness begins to form its own beings and is a torture within itself.

The word that he spoke keep cycling through your mind. “Your heart. I’m going to take your heart next.”

How much longer did you have to live? How much longer.

You stopped pacing when you heard the cinder blocks changing, that jaw clenching sound of the dusty blocks grinding against one another. You couldn’t growl, you remained sullen in your spot, collapsing to the ground.

It was time to collect your heart.

Footsteps surrounded your cage, but you were so exhausted your hearing was going in and out you couldn’t tell how many were around you. When the sheet that was covering your cage was pulled down, you expected a knife to be raised, but there was no knife. You raised your head in curiosity and found yourself surrounded on all sides by men dressed in black cloaks and only their eyes were showing. You focused on the one directly in front of you, he towered over the others, he was at least seven feet tall. His black cloak concealed his body, much like the mask that only unveiled his eyes. Dark brown messy hair covered the man’s forehead and his eyes almost a golden brown as they studied you.

When he took his first step towards you it reminded you that these men could just be bad. That when you finally noticed the men surrounding the center one all had their wands pointed towards you. Maybe that scientists had sent others to extract your heart. You were ready to bite anyone who came near as you pulled back your lips to display your fangs, even if it meant using the last of your energy. You hissed with as big of a breath you could build, it hurt to exhale, but you kept a semblance of intimidation. “You poor thing.” The tall man spoke in a soft voice, but you knew he was teasing you, so you let out another hiss.

He—they—were here for your heart.

Loud popping filled your ears, you knew that sound well, the scientist were here. It was him, he had returned to take your heart. When all the men in black moved in front of your cage creating a blockade your hissing stopped. Why did they move in front of you? Behind one of the men in black back one of them had signed the okay sign to you, shaking their hand for emphasis. It was instantaneous, you watched on as black and white whirled around one another. Fireworks of magic splattered about as they fought. That man in white had looked directly at you, telling you it was his promise to come back for you.

As quickly as the scientist came, they disappeared.

What was going to happen to you now? You didn’t pick up on anything they were saying, but when the golden eyed man turned back to you and all others were busy he stepped up to your cage. He spoke to you softly, the same as before, hushed whispered promises that he was going to take care of you. You felt taken aback, why is he so nice. You still curled towards the back edge of the cage and watched him closely. You couldn’t trust them, not him, you just couldn’t.

He hated it but the only way to transport a dragon safely is by knocking them out. He wanted to build your trust, and this may just make you more fearful of him, but this was the only way. Dragons are a level five threat, but right now you look more like a class one threat; maybe as dangerous as a house flea.

He stepped up to the cage, “I’m going to get you out of here I promise. This isn’t going to hurt, you’re going to sleep for a bit.” You wheezed back to him already lucid, you were hyperventilating, but you lightly shook your head. He was taken aback, you understood him yet again? He only lets his gaze linger for a moment before he raised his wands and you closed your eyes. You knew you couldn’t trust his niceness. You scramble backwards with the little energy you had left and hissed with all your might. You were going to die. You knew what “sleep” meant.

Jungkook’s heart constricts within his chest, he can only imagine what’s going through your mind. “It’s going to be okay.” Under his breath he casted the bewitching spell that would put you to into a deep sleep. Only a spell he had picked up from his mentor who dealt with beast often.

As soon as their magic hit you, true blackness overcomes you as your eyelids closed. A blanket of cold overcomes you and you loose feeling in your limbs and the heavy feeling of your body was overbearing.

Jungkook directed his wand to the multitude of locks and broke it open, he flung the cage door open and ran in immediately going to work treating your wounds. He pulled out a container of star grass salve he always kept on himself and applied them to the areas missing scales.

Hoseok leaned into Yoongi, “Are you sure that’s safe that he’s in there?”

“He’s a magizoologist, he’s got this.” Yoongi waved over his shoulder as he carried on his way dragging Hoseok along with him.

Although Jungkook knows only bits and pieces about dragons from his days when he studied them in class, but he’s never had an actual interaction with a real life one. He figured that basic care should be similar to reptiles. He carefully searched and placed his hand behind your foreleg and felt for a pulse. He watched his watch counting the beats per second, for now he was satisfied, there still was a heartbeat, but it was very weak. You weren’t in good condition at all.

There was only one option for these creatures to have a chance at life.

With the help of Taehyung he apparated in front of Hagrid’s hut. Out of breath from the time jump he knocked furiously on the hut’s door, “Hagrid! Hagrid!”

The hut’s door burst open with the burly man clearly woken up from his sleep. “Hmm, what? What’s this all about boy?” Jungkook stepped out of the way and allowed Hagrid to see exactly what. Hagrid jaw hung open. “A dragon Kook?” Hagrid trotted down the stairs and approached the cage and inspected the sleeping dragon.

Hagrid had owned a few dragon’s from what Jungkook knew, but never had seen any. During his years at Hogwarts, he found someone who became a mentor and a long-time friend. Hagrid, who was also a half-giant, since Jungkook’s first year at Hogwarts, Hagrid took care of the Gryffindor. After graduating from Hogwarts, he found a job in the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as a Magizoologist under the Beast division. He wanted to work in the Beings division, in order to promote rights for Giants, however, he found he had soft spot for the beast. After working at the Ministry for years he realized that there was so many issues with the system. The rescued creatures would often go into the system and often left in difficult situations. In worst cases, there was often there was nothing the Ministry could do. There was no true resolution.

The last straw was broken when he witnessed a being in the lobby begging on their knees for help and he couldn’t do anything about it. He roped in his friends, who also worked at the Ministry: Law enforcement (MACUSA), Central, Defense, Security, No-Maj Information, and even an Auror. The connections to different departments made the group stronger. He recruited his seven friends to form a unit that wouldn’t just only help creatures, but beings, wizards, anyone that needed help. He never wanted anyone to feel helpless again, he knew that feeling all too well. He called it Clause 7 Army, or C.7.A for short, inspired after Clause 73. It was kept a secret because he knew if the Ministry found out this secret he and his friends would be fired. They were stepping outside of their boundaries by far, but the risk is worth it.

He made a deal with Hagrid in passing that if he found creatures in need he could bring them there. Only once Jungkook began bringing things did Hagrid take him seriously.

“Kook, It’s gotta stay in the forbidden forest, I can’t have it too close to the castle. We’ll nurse it, but from there, when its better, we can see if we can send it to the sanctuary in Romania.”

Jungkook nodded, relieved that there was something he could do.

“Umm…well…there more than just a dragon.”

Hagrid eyes bulged, “How many?”

Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “About…a hundred or so more creatures?”

“WHAT!” The sleeping birds around the pumpkins in his yard flew away.

He was sure that the day after you would be furious at him. His suspicions were correct when he had come to see you. While you were still unconscious you were moved to a bigger cage, but it would’ve been compact for a full-fledged dragon. He held the package of food in his arms tight as he came into view, you poked your head up hearing him approach your cage. As he anticipated you glared at him with narrowed eyes, even going as far as scooting yourself around to show him your back. He wanted to chuckle you were so expressive, so honest. He swallowed it down.

“Morning, did you sleep well?”

You raised your tail and thunked it on the floor once. He raised a brow at biting his lips now. He didn’t speak dragon, but he knew exactly what that translated as. He slowly rounded the cage catching one eye peeked open before you shut it closed and began scooching away again. He stopped then continued and you kept scooching until you were both at the same spot you both began with.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Look,” he back up until his back hit a nearby tree and slumped down against it, “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t move.

“I’m sorry for everything, but I had to get you out of there. I know it’s hard to believe but I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a magizoologist, I take care of creatures like you. I don’t want to hurt you. I will never hurt you.”

The breeze picked up brushing the hair out of his face. These steps were always static, having patience, but he knew in time if he built this trust with you it’d be worth it. He picked up the butchers paper wrapped package and began unwrapping the twine and stood back up and he unveiled the raw steaks he had inside. Through the bars he slid it in and steps back to where he was. “Eat, I promise nothings in it, its just meat.” You remained unmoved.

Waiting, he played the waiting game and he was willing to do it. After a few hours of sitting, with the occasional one-sided conversation, he got up. He wondered if you would eat if he left. He left with a promise of returning tomorrow. When he returned he found the meat untouched and silently he pulled it out of the cage and replaced it with new food. He came back during his lunch break and after work for dinner, exchanging out the uneaten food. He would eat his own meal as he chatted you up about his day. Little progress was being made you didn’t turn your back to him you were facing him and eventually you kept your eyes open. Those were victories in their own right but he was beginning to become concerned if you were going to eat at all. For the first time as a caretaker he felt unsure of what to do. He could sneak in sleeping draught into your food but you hadn’t even touched the food offered to you.

He had come back. His height was still daunting but he now dressed in casual attire compared to his suits he wore the first time he had visited you. You could tell he was quite lean and muscular. His hair was often messy as he ran his hands through it in frustration. He brought different types of poultry and fat for you to eat, yet nothing seemed to entice you.

On day five, He slumped down resting his back on a tree as he listless stared at you. He had slept about an hour or so last night at his desk. He had been going through any information on a dragon he could possibly find. However, it was all on other breeds, similar species, but there wasn’t any on an opal dragon.

He had silently exchanged the food out then moved to his spot under the tree. The breeze carried through the tree rustling the leaves. You kept your eyes on him the whole time waiting for your daily chatterbox to go off. You slowly began raising your head as he had his head lowered, bobbing in the need for sleep. It wasn’t long before you saw his chest slowly rising and falling and he was asleep.

You kept your eyes on him. Your stomach was rumbling and you were adjusting on your tender legs to ease the feeling. Your eyes drifted towards the fresh meat, the scent tickled your nose and erupting your stomach in another wave of rumbles. Your feet were moving before you even were aware of it, slowly began inching forward towards the meat. The smell of it making you salivate. You couldn’t help it anymore, you wanted to eat. You picked up the pieces of meat and swallowed them whole. As you were about to reach for another piece you realized you had eaten all if it.

“You were hungry weren’t you?” Jungkook exhausted voice reached your ears loud and clear. Your head whipped up meeting his tired expression as he smiled from ear to ear. “Ah, I’m so glad. I’m so glad you finally ate.” The smile didn’t leave his face, “Sorry I didn’t bring more, but I promise to bring more later for dinner.”

Oddly enough you were feeling embarrassed with how much protest you had put up. You broke the soft eye contact he kept with you and tucked your wings around you covering your face slightly. He burst out in laughter holding his stomach.

Your pale blue scales had turned opal and your eyes the same. He was getting somewhere. Finally.

“Opal! I’m back!” You peeked up from your rested position. You watched that spot between the trees Jungkook would come from. You could even count how many steps it was before he appeared. As the giant rounded the tree, his eyes sparkling, you tail began to wag. He approached the cage with his hands behind his back. You attempted leaning one side but he moved the other. Childishly enough he began circling your cage with his eyebrows raised mischievously. “I brought something special today Opal.”

You followed him around, curiosity getting the better of you as you tried to see what’s behind his back. He abruptly stopped, “On one condition though.”

You plopped yourself down, there was always a condition. He giggled, “Will you take this medicine and I’ll give you something delicious.”

His heart was beating in his throat, this was the truest test of trust he had been building with you for weeks now. You gave him that look of a small nod and he placed his bad down near the tree before he brought out a big pill. He stepped towards the cage and slowly raised his hands, showing you the was willing to take his time. “Your wounds are taking a long time to heal and this is going to make you feel better. Okay?”

He snuck his hand through the bars, confident you wouldn’t hurt him

He bent down coming to your level, “You’re pretty small for a dragon.”

You wheezed, this giant dares judge your size. You gave him a bit of a run for his money, if he was going to be that way you could play too. You were stubborn refusing to take the pill, but as soon as he threatened to take away the treat you swallowed it up. He found himself laughing, he was always laughing around you. He honored his promise and gave you some sweet fruits, the extra sugar could do you good.

He leaned up against the cage, he hadn’t realized how long he had stayed with you. In the lull of the silence, ever so softly he began humming. The more relaxed he became the melodious hum turned into song. He was like a siren you couldn’t help but want to hear him better, you wanted to be closer to him. You were always cold and the nights were colder, if only you were normal. You crept towards the bars and like a cat you leaned against the bars and curled up. He shifted leaning on his side as he reached towards you. Your head ducked as he reached for you, momentarily stopping his song. “It’s okay, look,” he patted his own head then reached for your own. You slowly approached him centimeter by centimeter before he reached his hand through the bar. He gently rested his hand on your head his hand twitching at the cold feeling of your scales. He relaxed his hand and with his thumb he stroked over your brow. His warmth caused you to shiver as your shoulders shook causing your wings to wiggle. He chuckled and began to pet you slowly and cautiously, “See, its not all that bad, it’s quite nice.” You huffed and he followed with a laugh. Somewhere along the line he began singing again. The heat he emitted radiated to you and you sighed a heavy breath of relief, it felt so nice to feel warmth. Your eyes were heavy as he sung his lullaby and for the first time in a long time you truly slept.

Your ears perk up as you hear the crunching of leaves. You picked up your head and searched within the trees. It was still fairly early in the day, Jungkook usually visited you when the shadows of the trees were more rightward. Jungkook, since he saved you a few weeks ago, he had slowly gained your trust. He never made a move towards your scales, or when your claws were coming back in he didn’t snip them. He was very patient with you, he dismissed your hissing and soothed you regardless.

You sat up, a bit excited, he had come earlier than usual. From behind the trees, four boys in black cloaks appeared. Their eyes widen as they gasp out strings of gasp, a muffled scream, then a, “Whoas!” They slowly step closer, the other bumping into one another as they smack and clumsily move forward. As they approach the cage you hiss at them, trying to warn them to stay away. They laugh and imitate you, “Aren’t you supposed to breathe fire? Why is this Dragon hissing?”

The other pokes with an elbow at the other, “Maybe its just an overgrown lizard?”

“Why is it so white?”

They circled around your cage and tapped the bars with their wands.

Your eyes blurred, images of the lab crossing your mind as the scientists did the same to you. The same laughs blending in with the kids surrounding you.

“Bet you can’t touch it?”

“Psh, I can, I’m not scared!”

“Yeah you are! You can’t do it! You can’t do it!”

The kid grew flush as his friends pressured him. “I’m-I’m-I’m gonna do it!”

The kid stepped towards your cage, and you kept hissing scooting towards the other side of the cage away from the approaching kid. His hand was shaking as he reached towards the cage. You were yowling, but it was an awkwardly strained sound, it only scared the child further, but the chanting behind him of, “Do it! Do it! Do it!,” kept him going.

When he reached for your tail and squeezed it tight you pulled away from him violently, screaming with a thin hiss at the pain. Your tail was still tender as it was the most often shaved place for your scales. You hadn’t realized how hard you knocked the side of the cage as you kept thrashing as the kid was paralyzed in fear and hadn’t let go. He finally let go when the cage tipped over slowly before it hit the ground with a cloud of dust. The lock bent and smashed on an overgrown root and the gate. As you moved to right yourself the cage rolled and you tumbled again, back slamming as you pulled your wings around you tight. The cage door swung open as the boys screamed and ran behind a tree, shaking. You could faintly pick up their chatter, “What did you do!”

You looked towards the top of the trees the sun unfiltered through bars hitting you. You crawled up and out, you had to get out. You sprung forth, despite your muscles protesting and you plopped onto the soil in a coil. You scuffled your feet a bit, tail swishing behind you, the feeling of grass and dirt underneath your feet so unfamiliar. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt grass. You heard the crunching of leaves as one boy stepped from behind the tree looking at you with big eyes. The same one who touched you. You stretched your wings and ran for it, distance was all that mattered.

The terrain was extremely uneven bouts hills, tangled roots, and greenery was confusing. You kept pushing your unused muscles, the feeling of running itself feeling unusual. The spots where you lacked scales felt the chilly wind rush against you as you sped forth. Your four legs pounded away gaining kilometers in minutes. You ran and ran losing track of time.

Even if you were paying attention you wouldn’t have been able to stop in time. You barely had time to wheeze as a strong impact knocked into you throwing you directly into a tree. You slid down the tree as you picked your trembling limps up, your eyes wiped to the newest intruder. You saw its giant two toes before you looked up to the greenish, grey body of a troll. It raised their tree stump of a bat and swung towards you and you bolted and where you were the roots busted and flayed around. The troll was quick, stumbling after you and tried grabbing you, but you slipped out of its grasp, but it was sharp and grabbed for you tail again. Quick on adrenaline you slipped past, going through a root hole through a large tree. The fumbling troll swung its arms attempting to grasp you any way possible. You couldn’t breathe, you kept running. The troll’s claw scratched your side before you slipped through the tree and made it out. You pushed forward and kept running. There was no other choice.

You weren’t sure where you were going, but you knew you had made it far. You were pumping your limps so fast you felt nauseous, blood pressure so high you couldn’t hear. Brown, olives and other shades of green blending into a blur. Eventually the colors took form as you slowed, the gash at your side felt warm as your blood painted over your scales. You were heaving and trotting at some point. You collapsed in a clearing the echoing sound of your thud on the grass not filtering through your buzzing ears.

You tried getting up on a shaky limb but you capsized downward onto the soft grass. You huffed out a pained breath. The pain that once was a burning fire turned into a numbing ice.

Just when…just when you thought��

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cryptidofthekeys · 5 years ago

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Its another tf2 oc and im not ashamed

Let me break it down to y’all how this happened, so basically- I wanted a mafia-esque spy character but then my brain decided ok mafia mans is coolio BUT WHAT IF... t e n t a s p y mafia boss man? And voila here this fucker is

Name: Alphonse Blanchard | Titles/Nicknames: The Spy, Boss which usually his "partners" call him that, or just call him Alphonse, only ONE person can call him AL, anyone else tries it and well it wont be a very pleasant experience | Gender: Male | Species/Race: Used to be a normal human, now he's a Tentaspy- a m o n s t e r. | Age: 49s/50s | Occupation: Even tho he's got the title of The Spy n such- he's p much teechnically a Mafia Boss- b i g boss man for sure- | Height: When he was human he was about 5'7", but now he's 8'9" (nearly 9ft) | Eye Color: His eye color when he was human was a Steel Gray color, his eyes are now a Charcoal color (mostly for their meanings n stuff), his pupils are also slit ones now. | Hair Color: (even though most of his face except for his eyes and mouth are covered by a balaclava and you'd most likely never see him without his mask on, his hair color is black with grey streaks in the sides of it, however for the record- his hair is VERY tidy and slicked back) | Appearance: Now, not much changes tbh- except... he cant wear pants bc of the tentacles on his lower half but I'll get to those in a minute, he wears v e r y fancy and HIGHLY expensive suits, only the f i n e s t of clothing for him, usually he wears dark gray or black suits but he does have other colors- their just ALL dark colors, he likes the appeal of black or gray colors- and he d e f i n i t e l y loves the meaning behind them, they fit him so well... He also wears fedoras, he has some rings (you know the ones- the ones that some mafia characters or just big shots in general tend to wear- yeaah, his biggest ring and the one he usually wears has a skull on it-), and he of course has a circle beard, oh and he has a lot of scars both on his upper human body and his tentacles even, just- gettin that outta the way right quick- now onto his more monstrous features... For starters, let's get the simple one out of the way, he DOES have claws now, long sharp black claws to be more specific- his tentacles are pitch black on top with Smoke Gray tiger-like stripes going down them his underbelly is also Smoke Gray color- and oh boy... here's the most complex thing- his teeth, while all his teeth are p much bear trap teeth, his lateral incisors both top and bottom are longer kinda like vampire teeth or something like that ya know, his actual canines both top and bottom ones along with his first AND second premolars (again both the top ones AND the bottom ones are actually curved (kinda like an anaconda's in a way- p much- just- hooked teeth, perfect for hooking onto prey and not letting go if need be) | Personality: Oh b o y well, where to even begin with this motherfucker? He's narcissistic as hell "I k n o w I'm handsome, yes~" and god forbid you compliment him or anything- bc with e v e r y compliment, every good thing said about him his ego inflates and grows tenfold, even if you say bad shit about him- he don't give a fuck- as long as it doesn't affect his reputation then you'll be fine! He'll just pay no mind to petty insults or anything, at first- insults calling him a monster n anything similar bothered him, it made him feel sick every time someone had used those insults but now? Now... While he would MUCH prefer to have legs again (its honestly just bc its easier to walk around with legs than tentacles), he e m b r a c e s the fact he's a monster, he knows there's no reversing this, if there was- he would... he wouldn't go OUT of his way for it BUT he would at the very least TRY to get his hands on whatever could cure this, ahem anyways- he's come to terms with what he is even if some things about it aren't... ideal... I wouldn't say he's EVIL really, he's more so a neutral unless provoked/attacked- t h e n he'll "take care" of whatever or whoever's causing the problem with NO mercy whatsoever, but other than that he can be a reasonable man, just don't piss him off, steal from him, etc- basically don't make enemies with him and you should be just fine, he isn't one for small talk or anything like that, he wants to talk business, business and m o n e y even, even if he is a fucking HIGHLY rich bastard, he always wants more- he's got a BIT of a greed streak in him for sure (that doesn't mean however he won't let others borrow money, he just expects them to pay it back in the end or sometimes... he'll use his money for ahem, undercover classified reasons...) He'll flirt with a n y o n e if they happen to catch his eye, not just ladies either- men, ladies, no gender? What the fuck ever, if he wants- he's GONNA flirt with anyone, even if it might not end in love or whatever, he doesn't? really? He doesn't really care tbh, love is alright and if it happens it happens but honestly- he's just a fucking flirty b i t c h, who loves to see that flustered look and get a reaction from the other, you'll never truly know... feelings? Maybe but probably not... (tl;dr: Flirty bitch- I wouldnt hold hopes for feelings, greed streak but isn't afraid to let others borrow money so long as they pay it back in the end- some things he uses it for are classified- p much [REDACTED] info, neutral unless provoked/attacked, no mercy nor care towards enemies- can and WILL wipe out every single one of his enemies without a single t r a c e being left behind, even tho he's a monster now and has a LOT more strength than a normal human, he still tends to use guns or knives but isn't afraid to use his monstrous features if need be, narcissistic bastardery at its finest- compliment him and watch his ego inflate! "Don't you want r e a l friends Alphonse and not just henchmen or lackeys?" "....Non, not in the slightest, absolutely disgusting to even ASSUME I need friends, I, myself am my best company, better than any friend could e v e r do" w o w- b a s t a r d energy there huh) | Side Facts: ...Truth be told, he won't e v e r forget the day he turned into... this... this t h i n g... Even if he's accepted his fate, even if he's accepted to be this monster, the memory still lingers and haunts him and his very dreams, he has nightmares about it, and its mostly due to the agonizing pain he felt d u r i n g his little "transformation", it happened one day- he was in his own medic's lab (yes, the bitch has his o w n doctor), it was a normal routine health check up his medic liked to do- the man was always harping onto Alphonse for that pesky smoking habit of his, but then suddenly, one of the rival- well, t h e y call themselves family- Alphonse only considers the people he hired to be henchmen, lackeys, OR- just employees for basic terms, but one of his rivals broke in and decided to open fire and of course, it turned into an all out gun war, Alphonse DID get shot- which is what caused him to stumble backwards into a shelf full of god knows what, after he bumped it, a few jars of weird substances had fallen onto him, after that he could feel his body twisting and contorting, he remembers the a g o n i z i n g pain he felt that day, it was worse than that mere gunshot wound that he had... Aside from the horrifying memory of what fate had befell him... He also remembers what he d i d to his little rivals... He remembers the mortified and terror-stricken look on their faces, all of them had ran- except for... their boss... so much for "family sticks together" huh, he remembers slithering over towards the boss, who- well, he tried to fire from the looks of it, but he was so terrified that he had dropped his gun, Alphonse had never seen such terror on a grown man's face like that, but he loved e v e r y. s e c o n d. until the very end, he doesn't remember what came over him in the end, maybe it was blind fury, or maybe it was just instincts, but after he did what he did... He remembers seeing the boss's head ripped off completely along with other limbs ripped off and flung across the room. Unfortunately, his suit was v e r y messy after that- He actually still keeps the boss's head preserved- almost like a t r o p h y in fact... ....Oh, your probably wondering what happened to his doctor, right? ....Well, I'll say is he's still out there, he didn't get killed- neither by the rivals nor Alphonse's instincts/fury, but truth be told... He doesn't REALLY wanna come back, he wants to stay hidden- I will say, yes- he DID see Alphonse transform, but after that he fled- part of him figured deep down that Alphonse would be v e r y angry with him since h e was technically the one who had those jars just sitting around on the shelf and he did NOT wanna stick around if that man was c r o s s with him... now whether or not Alphonse will ever encounter/find him again? ... Who knows- h e h ASIDE from all the backstory of why he turned into a Tentaspy, let's move onto things Alphonse just- likes to do in his spare time when he's not talking business n all that jazz- He usually smokes some of his cigarettes or cigars, he loves the cigars more though- he'll also do some reading in his spare time as well, or he'll listen to some calming music- sometimes he'll do all three, smoke, read, and listen to some calming music- he's not... the most exciting man, he's just usually busy- so when he's not- he'll just do those things- He'll SOMETIMES go outside and get some fresh air, usually its at night- not necessarily just bc there's l e s s people to worry about- but usually because he enjoys looking up and seeing the moonlight when its out, such a beautiful sight...

#tf2 oc #team fortress 2 oc #tf2 spy oc #mafia boss oc #gore warning #blood warning #my oc #tentaspy oc

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lesbrarians · 6 years ago

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GenFic:: A Proposition

Title: A Proposition

Pairing: (Sort of?? Vaguely mentioned) Ai/Javik

Characters: Ai Shepard, Javik, Grist (cameos by K. Shepard, Sam Shepard, and Tiffany Shepard bc MultiShep verse)

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Ai and Javik spend their shore leave examining the ship, when they find an unwelcome visitor in their private hideaway. Warnings for dead bodies and general unsanitariness

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"Okay, I'm not saying I'm gonna trounce your ass at Shattered Eezo… but I'm gonna trounce your ass at Shattered Eezo," K said. After a particularly taxing mission chasing down mercs on Omega, the Normandy crew was gearing up to enjoy some well-earned shore leave, and K had her heart set on visiting the Castle Arcade. "C'mon, look at me." She flexed her biceps. "I'm a Bruiser, you really think I'm gonna lose at a punching game?"

"First of all," Tiffany began. "It's an arcade game. Your muscles mean nothing here. Secondly, you've never seen me play. I'm good. You don't stand a chance."

K laughed. "Them's fighting words, Tiff."

"Loser buys the drinks!" Sam chimed in as the three of them exited the Port Observation Room lounge.

"What-- you're not even playing!" Tiffany exclaimed.

"I mean, I'm game," K said. "Win, lose, I get alcohol either way, so really, it's a win-win--"

They rounded the corner and ran squarely into Ai and Javik, who were leaving the mess hall.

"Hey guys!" Sam said brightly. Tiffany was diplomatic in her hello, while K just mumbled something under her breath that could have been what's up, or it could have been oh god.

"Samantha," Javik said, nodding at her. Ai lifted her chin slightly in acknowledgment. "We were just discussing shore leave plans."

K had been pregaming in the lounge, and what little self-restraint she possessed was completely out the window. "Oh, no you don't," she said, pointing at Javik before swinging her finger over to Sam. "You chose them over us last time. The three of us are going out, I'm beating Tiffany at Shattered Eezo, then we're getting shitfaced at some expensive bar somewhere, because I won't be the one paying for it."

"Wow, K," Tiffany said, shaking her head at her.

Sam grimaced apologetically at Ai and Javik. "Yeah, sorry…"

They both stared at her in response, as if hoping she would come to her senses.

The five of them stood at an impasse outside the elevators, the seconds dragging out interminably.

Sam clapped her hands to break the tension. It wasn't entirely successful. "Okay! Okay, I'll catch up with you guys later, I promise. We can do our plans then!"

Ai stared at her unflinchingly, tilting her head slightly.

Sam sighed. "The neutral face of displeasure. Alright, I'll just be a few hours, then I'll find you guys, I swear!"

Tiffany called for the elevator. K whistled to fill the awkward silence as they waited for it to arrive.

Sam’s perky voice floated through the elevator doors as they slid shut behind the trio. "See, everyone's happy!"

"I'm not," Javik said, his voice dark with displeasure.

Ai said nothing, but she privately agreed.. She couldn’t understand what Samantha saw in Tiffany and K -- Tiffany was a goody two-shoes with all kinds of disgusting traits like proper morals and honor and loyalty. K was more unscrupulous, but she was obnoxious and had no filter to speak of.

"A poor decision on Samantha's part," Javik continued.

"She will regret it." Her flat tone made it impossible to tell whether it was a threat or simply a statement of fact.

"I suppose we'll wait for her, although she doesn't deserve our magnanimity."

Ai nodded once. She didn't particularly care for visiting the Citadel during the day anyway, and despite Javik's insult, Sam's presence was desirable, especially when they went ashore.

Javik locked eyes with her, and Ai returned the stare, stoic and unblinking, an unspoken challenge.

Javik's lower two eyes remained fixed on her, but the other two wandered up to linger on her hair in a way that made her skin crawl.

"I suppose we'll just have to find an… alternative way to entertain ourselves."

"You are revolting," Ai informed him. They both knew this didn't necessarily constitute a "no," but she wasn't feeling charitable today.

Her eyes flicked over to Life Support. She'd broken the standoff between them, but she couldn't stand looking at his disgusting face for even a second longer. She consoled herself with the fact that this one loss meant nothing; she was still the superior one and had prevailed countless other times.

Ai stared at her quarters for a fraction of a second, then glanced back at Javik, who had an insufferable expression on his face.

She turned on her heel and called for the elevator.

It was a scathing rejection, refusing to invite him to her room that was barely ten feet away from where they stood. Life Support was where they had most of their… encounters, for lack of a better word. It gave her the most control over the situation. Pointedly denying Javik access to that space shut down any possibility of anything happening between them that day.

Ai could feel Javik's eyes boring holes into the back of her head as they boarded the elevator, and the corner of her mouth quirked up into the faintest hint of a schadenfreudian smile.

"We may as well take advantage of the empty ship. Inspect it top to bottom." She needed to make sure everything was in proper working condition, and she couldn't be thorough when there were eyes everywhere.

The elevator rumbled to a halt on the fourth deck of the ship, where the port side cargo room served as Javik's quarters and the bowels of the ship as their lair.

They exited the elevator and resumed walking, hands clasped behind their backs and a Sam-sized space between them so that there was no possibility of accidental contact. They didn't need to speak to know exactly where they were going.

They descended the stairs to the engineering sub-deck.

At the bottom of the steps, Javik stopped so suddenly that Ai nearly ran into him.

"Something is not right," he said.

The spike of irritation she'd felt dissipated. She still didn't trust Javik fully (for all his talk of loyalty, she wasn't entirely convinced that he wouldn't stab her in the back), but she did trust his ability to read people and the environment, as disturbingly creepy as it was.

Her gaze swept the space, searching for anything out of the ordinary. "Elaborate."

Javik took a few cautious steps forward and bent down, fingers grazing against the metal floor.

“Death," he said, straightening out. "The DNA of a… human male. A gifted biotic. Did a member of your crew die here?”

Ai could think of one or two former crew members who matched that description. “Regrettably, no.”

"The residue is strong. Recent. He was not honored in death."

Ai was not often made to feel ill at ease, but a strange apprehension stirred in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was psychosomatic, but she was beginning to think she smelled the stench of decay, and if it was Javik just getting into her head, she didn't appreciate it. She called up her omni-tool and scanned the ground. She trusted her technology more than she trusted Javik's psychometry.

The scanner chirped in response to organic matter. Imperceptible specks of skin and hair lit up on the orange holo-display of her omni-tool with the readings: "Data: 100% Human."

Ai lifted the scanner. The flakes of rotting organic matter continued in a meandering trail, as if the corpse had shuffled around aimlessly.

Death did not faze Ai. She didn't bat an eye at a bloated corpse or decomposing remains. But she preferred it to be at her own hands. Her germophobia went strangely quiet when she knew that she was the cause of the gore -- she could revel in the blood that she'd spilled.

But when it was of someone else's doing, there was no triumph or pride attached, and while there was small comfort in feeling superior to the dead, regardless of whether or not she'd killed them, her aversion to uncleanliness won out over her egotism.

So when the path ended at the panel in the floor that led to the hidden room where she, Sam, and Javik so often convened, her mouth went dry. She did not invite anyone into her personal space, she did not invite disease into her personal space, and if someone had stuffed a dead body--

A loud clang rang out from below. The panel that led to their secret hideaway thumped rhythmically as whatever was inside struggled to get out.

If Ai had a heart, it would have been in her throat. As it was, she was only mildly alarmed. For one brief, ludicrous moment, the part of her that watched far too many East Asian horror vids stupidly thought "kyonshī."

The next moment, her rational side wanted to shoot herself.

The panel gave way. Something burst out with an unholy screech, its gaunt face twisted like a grotesque Halloween mask, with too many teeth and a flattened snout of a nose.

Ai fired an explosive round from her omni-tool at precisely the same time as Javik biotically yanked the thing in the air and slammed it to the floor. Ai hissed out a curse as the incineration blast clipped its target on the arm.

The creature howled, clutching its arm and retreating to the shadows the second it wrangled free from the glowing green aura of Javik's biotics. In the low, red light of the ship's underbelly, it was hard to tell what it was at first, little more than a dark silhouette of something spiny and vaguely human shaped skulking in the corner. Only when it turned its attention on her and attacked again did she realize what it was -- a charcoal-colored vorcha with sickly green, mottled markings and lurid red eyes to rival her own.

Javik didn't interfere when the vorcha pounced this time, allowing her to fend for herself. She lashed out at the vorcha with an incendiary backfist, causing it to recoil.

It dropped something. Ever the tactician, Ai quickly looked down to assess it before snapping her attention back up to her target. A human ear.

Rage flared up in Ai, a sudden spike of violent emotion at the knowledge that her sanctuary -- their sanctuary -- had been violated. Every warning bell in her head was clanging, counting off everything that made this such an egregious offense: invasion of her privacy, by an alien, bearing a scavenged corpse and filth. Contamination.

"Kill it!" she barked. She switched gears on her omni-tool, transforming it into a forked blade.

With a great, rippling shockwave, Javik bodily threw the vorcha against the wall. Ai had the impression that he was doing his best to put as much distance between them as possible. She couldn't fault him for the tactic, given that her preferred battlefield combat style consisted of sentry turrets, drones, and her trusty sniper rifle.

Ai couldn't figure out whether the vorcha was resilient, or just too stupid and stubborn to know when to give up. He picked himself back up, shook his head violently, and dodged Javik's next biotic attack by leaping onto a support beam. The sub-deck was too small a space for a full blown fight, and the vorcha quickly sealed the distance between them.

All four of Javik's eyes widened as the vorcha sprang at him, feral and bloodthirsty.

Javik snagged him in self-defense, just as the vorcha latched onto his arm.

He froze.

---

His sensory ability was a gift. A single touch could transmit a lifetime of memories, experiences, ideas at a speed that would liquefy the brains of inferior species. As he read the vorcha, he was hurled into several simultaneous memories, with the most recent standing out in his consciousness.

The gritty streets of Omega. Fluorescent lights flickering overhead as the vorcha scurried through the lowermost alleys of the Kenzo district. A wasted human in the throes of a creeper high, mumbling to himself about all the colors he could see. The vorcha's interest was piqued by the latter, but he kept going. He hopped over a barrier and rounded a corner to find a nest of vorcha. The space was teeming with dozens of vorcha, a tight-knit mass that he had to pick his way through.

He didn't make it very far.

A larger, older vorcha stood up from where he was squatting and conversing with other members of their clan.

He pushed the vorcha, a direct challenge, and a full-out brawl ensued that ended with the vorcha flat on his back and gasping for air.

"No more room!" the other vorcha hissed. "We no space for you. You start own clan!"

Physically subjugated, he ducked deferentially as he climbed to his feet. “O-kay. I leave. I leave now.”

He slunk away from the nest, away from his home. Javik could feel the emotions roiling in him. Just simple anger and sadness; he was too dim for a very nuanced outlook on the sudden rejection.

"Poor, poor me," the vorcha muttered. "All alone…"

Javik had heard that language before. The same primitive tongue. His brain leapt unbidden to past memories, neurons firing rapidly and sewing together connections as he cycled through the Echo Shards he had had the privilege of experiencing. He had been born in the heart of war, long after the fall of the great Prothean Empire. Most of his knowledge of his people and their subordinate races came from the memory shards passed between Protheans. The shards he'd received from his fellow warriors, then passed on, let him live the glory of the empire that he'd never experienced. They let him see old triumphs and conquests and joy in the days of a happy people, before the Reapers came -- and they gave him an intimate knowledge of other species: the races they had dominated and assimilated into their empire, the primitives they'd studied, and the lesser species that were good for nothing but food. Their memories became his, then he passed the torch to another warrior.

He'd heard that language before. A vision of the Prothean scientist who had visited the uninhabitable planet of Heshtok to observe its sapient life, discovering the vorcha.

Fifty thousand years.

He had witnessed the demise of his people, risen from their ashes, walked amongst races thousands of times more advanced than their ancestors, the ones he had grown to know from Echo shards of old.

Fifty thousand years, and the vorcha hadn't changed one bit.

---

He hesitated for the briefest of seconds.

Needle-sharp teeth sank into his arm.

The noise Javik made upon returning to the present was undignified and entirely unbefitting of a Prothean. He threw off the vorcha with a bright green biotic blast.

"Pitiful," Ai spat in his direction. She wasn't sure who she was more disgusted with: Javik for freezing in the face of an enemy, herself for going soft and trusting someone else, or the vermin they needed to exterminate.

She should have known better than to trust someone else to do the job. If you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself, and Ai always had to do everything herself.

She jammed her forked omni-blade against the vorcha's throat, pinning him against the wall. With a guttural, horrific gagging sound that made Ai's ears bleed, the vorcha thrashed about, sharp claws scrabbling at her arm.

She stood her ground and sent a jolt of electrical energy surging through the omni-blade -- unfortunately, it wasn't powerful enough to roast the vorcha alive, but it was enough to stun him.

All Ai needed to do was drive the blade through his trachea before he bounced back from the shock to his system, but she was so consumed by rage that it was becoming very difficult to concentrate on the target before her. Javik’s incompetence was blinding her. This was why she didn’t get involved with people. Social connections were so tiring. They kept you from focusing on what was really important.

Senseless violence and the eradication of useless alien scum.

In one swift motion, she pulled back and summoned up a combat drone to take her place. The vorcha lunged for the tech drone, only to howl and retreat as he was zapped. He hunched over in the corner to lick his wounds.

Ai rounded on Javik. Her tech drone was equipped with mass effect fields that allowed it to levitate safely out of the vorcha's grasp, and it was trained to open fire at the slightest movement from its target, which bought her enough time to yell at her companion.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," she snarled. "You could have compromised everything, you useless idiot!"

"I was studying the enemy," Javik answered by way of explanation, his voice even. "And I had the situation under control, that was just a minor setback."

Ai sneered. "You lost control of the situation the moment that hideous piece of vermin bit you. Studying the enemy. An involuntary reading, then. Those garbage powers make you a liability on the battlefield."

Javik bristled. "False. If anything, they are an asset, not a liability. When I choose to use them--" Perhaps anticipating Ai's reaction, he raised his voice and soldiered on to explain, "--In the sense that I ordinarily choose long-range biotics to avoid triggering them -- I can read my enemies in an instant, witness their last memories, discover their battle strategies--"

"--become incapacitated and attacked--"

"For a split second, and I retaliated!" Javik retorted.

They stared each other down, both simmering with barely restrained anger.

Javik took a deep breath and continued. "Regardless, my momentary lapse of attention was due to a… revelation."

Ai was at odds with herself. Her fury at what she perceived to be weakness on Javik's part conflicted with her drive to know everything and thirst for knowledge.

Curiosity won out. "Explain," she said.

"Vorcha. They... haven't evolved."

She was seized by a sudden desire to roll her eyes, smack Javik, or both. She settled for a derisive scoff and folded her hands behind her back. She'd already lost control of herself today; she needed to rein herself back in. "I could have told you that," she said. "They don't evolve."

She turned her head to look at the vorcha. He hadn't learned his lesson and was still attempting to attack the drone, with disastrous results.

Javik did not look thrilled to learn that his epiphany meant nothing to Ai, but he continued his train of thought regardless. "I can see how all the species in this cycle have evolved, except for them. Before the war, my people studied primitive species. Groomed them. Before offering them the... choice of joining the empire."

Her face remained as blank a mask as ever, but Ai exhaled through her nose, a faint huff that was the closest she ever came to a laugh. A "choice." Amusing.

"We were in the midst of studying this cycle's species when the Reapers arrived. Humans. Asari. Krogan. Never the vorcha." He paused. "Not the lizard people, either. I still don't know how they managed to evolve."

"You failed to account for their freakish metabolism." She allowed herself a faint smirk. She didn't care for salarians, to say the least, but it was entertaining to see just how badly the Protheans had misjudged a race known for its intelligence. "A grotesque miscalculation on your part. Embarrassing."

"The point," Javik said, "is that the vorcha were primitive then and they are primitive compared to your allegedly advanced species now."

The vorcha squatted on his haunches and sprang upright, hands scrabbling over his head in a desperate bid to reach the drone.

They watched him in silence for a few seconds, neither of them able to come up with an appropriately scathing comment for the spectacle in front of them.

"What is their purpose in this cycle?" Javik finally asked.

"Cannon fodder." Ai did not mince words.

Javik gave an appreciative hum. "The strong dominate the weak. The weak become a tool for the strong, then perish. The Cosmic Imperative. Perhaps you humans share more similarities with Protheans than I thought."

"Other humans, maybe. I am without equal." She flicked her eyes down the length of Javik's body, then back up to meet his gaze. "An alien could never compare. No matter their ideals."

"Our strategies are the same. You use vorcha as 'cannon fodder.' Their species is not strong enough to thrive alone. They are expendable. In my cycle, weak links became resources. When the Reapers were busy conquering the weak, they were not watching us. It was the logical tactic."

"That does not make us equals. I am still superior."

"You are a fool," Javik said, and Ai was struck with another twinge of irritation. "No, we are not equals. You're still a primitive. If my warriors survived the cull, we would have reclaimed the galaxy. You would be under my command right now."

"I would sooner kill myself than be under your control," Ai said, and she meant every word of it. "I am not one of your weaklings to conquer and discard. I am above that."

There was a clattering noise, and both of them sharply turned their heads to look at the vorcha, having gotten so wrapped up in their disagreement that they'd nearly forgotten about its catalyst.

The vorcha had sat down, beaten into submission and drained of its bloodlust.

"This is not finished," Javik said.

Ai inclined her chin in agreement. It was a temporary peace treaty, she supposed. Neither one of them would forget the argument until it reached its bitter end.

"The question now is: what do we do with this… thing?" Contempt dripped from his voice.

It was a valid question. "We could still kill it." It wouldn't be quite as satisfying as killing it in the heat of battle, but it was still an option -- and given the vorcha's aggression, she suspected it would put up a fight even if they had subdued it for now.

"We could," Javik agreed, his voice as casual as if the two of them were discussing what to have for dinner.

"Or--"

She paused, noting how the vorcha's eyes slid over to the two of them. His gaze was sharp, focused, and she was suddenly acutely aware of his intelligence, limited as it was. She'd grown careless with her words, having already dismissed the vorcha as a mindless, savage creature.

She did a quick visual scan of her drone and, satisfied that it would keep the vorcha in line if he got unruly again, she shifted to face Javik. "We need to speak privately." She held up her hand. "Keep it brief, I don't want to touch you any longer than absolutely necessary."

Javik ignored the jibe. Ai was still irritated with him, not to mention uncomfortable with the very concept of linking minds. Her mind belonged to her, and welcoming another person into her innermost thoughts was deeply disconcerting. It wasn't just invasive, it was intimate, and Ai had no experience with intimacy. It was unnatural to her.

Javik touched the pads of her fingers with his own three fingertips.

Ai closed her eyes as she entered the dreamlike state of mind she had, on more than one occasion, shared with Javik and Sam.

What did you want to tell me? Javik's voice sounded in her head.

She did her best to carefully wipe her mind of all thoughts, save for the words she wanted to share with him. There's another option besides killing it. It is beyond idiotic, but it was a worthy adversary. We could bend it to our will.

Use it as cannon fodder.

Exactly.

It could prove useful. It may even be agreeable to being a pawn. Allow me to share with you one of its memories.

He transmitted the vorcha's last memory, and Ai watched as the vorcha was rejected from his clan. A pitiful display. Agreed, a new start may make it more amenable to our cause.

Indeed.

Enough talk. Get out of my head.

Ai pulled her fingers away, severing the connection between her and Javik. She had all the information she needed, and she didn't need to linger. For some reason, the encounters were more bearable with Sam involved.

She motioned at Javik, who stepped forward. "You, vorcha--"

"Grist!" the vorcha hissed. He might have been docile, but he was no less terrifying.

Javik and Ai looked at each other. Ai was not the type of person who asked questions. If she asked a question, it was a demand for information, never an admission of ignorance -- she hated looking like she didn't know everything all of the time. She was supposed to be flawless, not some simpleton who was easily puzzled or thrown off guard.

So she was pleased when Javik asked the question: "Is that… a word?" It was difficult to tell whether he was communicating with them, or if the sound was another one of his primal noises.

The vorcha thumped his chest with one clawed hand. "My name Grist."

Javik’s lip curled. “The primitive speaks at last.”

The harsh cry that Grist emitted in response made Ai grind her teeth. "Why use words when teeth?" He bared his teeth at them to demonstrate how useful they were in combat. Unnaturally long and spiny, they were crusted with blood.

Repulsive, Ai thought.

"Too many words." Grist clutched his head and shook it vigorously.

Ai suspected that combat was his preferred communication style simply because his grasp of language was not nuanced enough. Javik was right, as loathe as she was to admit it; vorcha were primitive.

Regardless, she needed words from him. "I do not care." She took a step towards him.

Perhaps it was her generally menacing presence, or the fact that he overheard them discussing the possibility of killing him, but Grist did not react well. "Back!" he snarled, hackles raised. "Back! You no come closer! I kill you!"

As if you would succeed, Ai thought to herself, but she kept silent and retreated. Grist settled down, apparently reassured, if still wary of her motives. "Tell me why you are on my ship," she said, attempting to regain control of the situation.

"Grist clan too big," he said morosely. "No room on Omega. Find ship, sneaky sneaky, hide away. Then go to new planet, make new clan!"

Ai was not going to question the logistics of this plan. The thought of vorcha breeding -- anyone breeding, really -- revolted her. "That doesn't explain the corpse."

Grist gave her a toothy grin. "Food," he said. "Me hungry."

Of course. She didn't know why she even asked. Of course the scavenger brought a dead human on board the ship as sustenance. Or part of a human, at any rate; Ai couldn't imagine him sneaking on board with a full corpse, and oh, she would have words with whoever had been guarding the ship while they were on Omega. She was not looking forward to seeing how, exactly, he had besmirched her hideaway.

Grist reached into a pouch on his hip and pulled out a severed human finger. Ai sharply inhaled, the closest she came to a gasp or exclamation of moral outrage.

He nibbled on it until he noticed Ai staring at him with murder in her eyes. He looked down at the half-chewed finger. Looked back at Ai. Extended the dessicated finger bone out to her.

Some people would have viewed it as a proverbial olive branch, and an unusually civilized gesture for a vorcha. Ai viewed it as a heinous insult to everything she held dear: cleanliness, logic, not sharing food with an alien.

"I am going to kill it," she announced, calling up her omni-tool. Grist was too busy sucking the last meat off the bone to notice her threat.

"Don't," Javik warned her.

Ai fixed him with a look. She was seized with the urge to ignore him and kill the vorcha anyway purely to spite Javik. She did not like being ordered about and actively disobeyed any direct orders she received.

But logic was stronger than rage, in this particular instance, and she deactivated her omni-tool. "I am not doing this because you told me to," she informed Javik. "I am doing this because I have reassessed the situation and come to the same conclusion."

"If that helps you sleep at night," Javik said, and, not for the first time, Ai questioned why she chose the company of such a smug bastard.

They looked down at Grist. He was chewing on his arm, his burn wounds already blistering.

Javik turned back to Ai, his jaw set. There was only one thing they could do. "Get Samantha."

#javik #ai shepard #vorcha #mass effect fic #my fanfiction #mass effect

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kondo-hijikata · 6 years ago

Note

Reunion Konkata

Pairings: Established Kondo/HijikataRating: MSummary: The best part of traveling for business is coming home. Modern AU. [AO3] Thank you to @hakuyamazakisensei for the initial beta~

.*Terms of Endearment*.

“Getting to travel for work! How lucky!”

Bullet train, local train, and then the pointed taps of a brisk gait—of freshly shined shoes hurrying over pavement scorched by late afternoon sun. The stale July air was anything but suit and tie weather, and perhaps slowing down would have been prudent to benefit his comfort…however, a little extra sweat was worth it if it made Kondo’s arrival any sooner.

Despite his already heightened efforts, the anticipation brimming within him could barely contain itself as it was, and nothing short of a full-on sprint would satisfy the pressing urge to move faster and faster yet. Or, as fast as his bulky shoulder bag would permit him, in any case.

“Seeing so many different places, meeting so many different people. Do you know how great that is?”

Desire and need, necessity to throw his arms around the most valuable treasure and hold tight…to feel himself held back and clung to just as ardently after all this time… These were the impulses that drove him, were what had Kondo Isami pounding the sidewalk hard while decked head to toe in professional attire.

A briefcase rocked in the grip of his left hand and keys already drawn from a breast pocket clamored in his right, all as he laser focused on powering his way through the oppressive swelter. It didn’t matter how ridiculous he looked to anyone else dressed appropriately down and drifting lazily about their Saturday with uchiwa¹ and cool packs. Kondo had long been past giving thought to the generic critical gaze of society, especially when there were more pressing matters vying for his attention.

“Oh, and eating all kinds of new things, too. Psht, how nice it must be.”

He was thirty years old, after all—thirty and already entitled fourth successor of the Tennen Rishin-Ryu. Thirty and leader of a fighting style he could now call his own, one that had erred on the edge of struggle but began flourishing anew after transfer to his name. It was because he was thirty and trekking all over the country to aggressively spread renown, to secure its position and vitality for the next heir and hopefully even the one after.

Indeed, Kondo was only thirty and yet felt he’d traveled enough to satisfy the rest of his life at this point, if he had any say in the matter. Alas, none he had, as it was crucial to answer that beckon of responsibility which ensured the livelihood he’d made for not just himself. It was no longer about only his future but theirs, and there could be no greater duty to fulfill than safeguarding that.

…Even if it meant frequent trips and cold hotel beds and meals eaten with those of a much lesser quality of company.

“I wish I could just take off like that…”

So, frequent travel it was. Of course, he dreaded it—dreaded that last hug and the small kiss which always followed. Dreaded the be carefuls and see you soons. But for every difficult parting, there was a return that much sweeter awaiting him. Absence only put in perspective what he was missing when he went without, and made him infinitely appreciate what he had when it was back in his clutches.

It was sensible, therefore, to rush even under such uncomfortable conditions—quirked eyebrows and pensive stares be damned. For the sooner Kondo’s arrival, the sooner he could embrace everything that mattered most, and hold it like he’d never have to let it go again.

“…get away from my family without any questions asked…”

At last, Kondo veered about a corner, the soles of his shoes skidding along concrete as he came face-to-face with the sight for which he’d so vehemently yearned: Makoto Heights. Sleek and minimalist, the apartment building stood ten stories high with an entryway of heavy charcoal double doors embellished by diamond-shaped windows. There was no time to spare for appreciating pleasant architectural design choices, however; he bounded through the entrance with reckless abandon, heaving heavy breaths into his lungs while punching in his entry code and sending the automatic door sliding aside.

“…have my own adventures without all the annoyance and hassle…“

Naturally, the elevator was parked at the top floor. Kondo jabbed the call button, the keys in his hand jingling with restlessness while his heart pounded its ribbed prison. Shoulders rose and fell. His foot began to tap.

“…do whatever, or heh, whoever I want, y’know? No consequences.”

Just standing around, even for a few seconds, was a challenge. He dabbed at the beaded moisture on his forehead and then glanced at his watch. It had all turned insufferable by now: the need for patience he didn’t have, the rise in sheer excitement, and oh, the exhaustive heat made so much worse in this enclosed space with no moving air.

Still panting, Kondo flicked the tip of his nose and his focus shot to the staircase in temptation. Just as he started considering if a marathon climb would be quicker, the pleasant chime rang out with the elevator’s arrival: an invitation he eagerly accepted.

His pointer finger depressed the fourth floor button—and thrice thereafter for good measure. And when the doors closed in again and Kondo’s reflection came into view, he was rudely reminded of what unfortunate consequences racing around on foot this time of the year could have on one’s appearance.

The neat look he’d fixed this morning had gone rogue in some places, disheveled locks betraying the commanding rule of all that meticulously applied styling wax. Kondo lifted his chin and gave his head a shake, then quickly ran fingers over his hair to fix what he could. Surely, he’d looked better, when his face wasn’t red from exertion and his appearance not unkempt from an impromptu workout.

But it had all been worth it.

Because it was never about sight-seeing or meeting new people…

The chime rang, the doors split. With his heart beginning to hammer again, Kondo nearly tripped over his own feet while making for the left, toward the numbers 401 written in dainty silver font.

…It’d never been about trying new dishes or having so-called freedom he didn’t even want in the first place…

Key into the keyhole, a fast turn, and once the door was sent flying open, Kondo’s breath caught in his throat.

Natural light permeated gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows, flooded the inner spaces with an ethereal softness that left everything within glowing and glinting and warm. And there, in the middle of it all—Hijikata! Stupefied and rendered frozen, he stood with a clipped manuscript in hand and wide eyes fixed toward the entrance.

“…Kat-chan?!” The exclamation was breathless as the stack of papers he’d been narrating from fell limp, curling over backward from the top edge.

“Toshi!”

Luggage crashed to dark floorboards just beyond the genkan² and the keyring flew haphazardly atop the slipper nook, while Kondo’s legs nearly entangled from the haste with which he stumbled out of his shoes. Etiquette and conventionality meant nothing up against the urgency of needing purchase—to finally, finally pull Hijikata into his long bereft embrace and feel him, smell him, hold him.

Pages of writing fluttered free through the air, cast off as though they were meaningless, as Kondo sprang over the threshold with his hands held out. Their bodies collided and his arms snapped tightly around Hijikata, hauling him forward and squeezing as tightly as permitted without causing pain.

Kondo took fistfuls of shirt, clenching the material while feeling himself enveloped in turn with mirroring strength, then nosed his way into sleek black hair to inhale. The scent he loved most inundated him so that his knees nearly gave way, overwhelmed by waves of satisfaction and gratitude and relief battering him and making him cling even further.

“Kat-chan.” His name was muffled into his suit jacket, and though it’d been spoken in that ever soft and baritone voice so distinctly Hijikata, Kondo felt the unadulterated emotion it rode out on thrumming along the fabric of his soul.

Distantly, he became aware that he might have been holding with too much strength. Kondo clenched the shirt once more before releasing it and relocating his grasp to smaller shoulders, pushing back just enough to free up space for their lips to crash together.

The instant of connection was demanding and insistent, fueled by the racing of Kondo’s pulse and every ounce of insufferable buildup burning this perfect moment into the depths of his memory. Palms rose to cradle Hijikata’s cheeks, thumbs pressing gently beneath closed eyes as their mouths broke contact and immediately met again, over and over in a dizzying torrent of desire and exhilaration–until Kondo’s lungs starved and he was forced to breathe.

He gasped upon drawing back, his forehead immediately pushing unto Hijikata’s as he was unwilling to forfeit such closeness, while fingertips flexed and intertwined with locks of chin-length hair.

Hijikata’s exhalations fell with matching intensity and his hands rose to clamp onto Kondo’s forearms. “Wow.” He huffed through a gentle smile. “Welcome home.”

Kondo laughed once, just as softly and with a twinge of mortification for his lacking in self control. “…I’m home.”

The corners of Hijikata’s lips pulled a little further outward into his cheeks, his eyes managing to grow even more tender. “And early at that.”

Letting his lashes fall, Kondo nodded and couldn’t prevent his own grin from widening as well. “I, uh.” He chuckled. “I skipped out a little prematurely.”

A snort. “I’m sure Ito-sensei was thrilled.”

“He’ll get over it.”

Hijikata returned the next kiss bestowed upon him, shorter and more disciplined this time—and with eyes remaining open. When their mouths parted, his brow suddenly furrowed then and he pulled back with a squint. “Wait. Did—did you run here?”

Heat of a different kind flashed across Kondo’s face and his eyes shifted to the left before finding Hijikata’s again. “…Maybe.”

“Kat-chan! It’s the hottest day of the year yet!” Hijikata released Kondo’s arms, his nimble digits set to unfastening the suit jacket and shoving it off his shoulders. The escape of pent up heat felt heavenly as Kondo shook himself free, not particularly caring where the garment ended up while he began loosening his tie. “No wonder you’re all flushed.”

“And here I was thinking that was your fault.”

“Taku³…” Ah, the sound of vexation laced with fondness—so typically Hijikata and how Kondo loved it. Through rims of dark lashes, he peered at him with adoration, which resulted in an epiphany of his own.

“Speaking of clothing…” Kondo pressed his fingertips to the light blue shirt Hijikata wore and took hold of the unbuttoned edges; he ran his hands down each side, then pulled gently at the bottom hem. “This isn’t yours, Toshi-san.”

Blush threatened to creep across Hijikata’s cheeks. His brows pulled in and he tossed his face aside. “It was…convenient.”

“Ahuh.” Exhaling through his nose, Kondo’s brows raised with a knowing smirk. “It looks good on you, even if it’s a little big.”

“…Well, there’s no use standing around at the door,” Hijikata declared in an airy tone, and Kondo had to bite his lip to not laugh—or abuse his power of so easily flustering a generally unflustered man. Reaching for Kondo’s fingers and entwining them with his own, Hijikata gave a squeeze before releasing them and stepping off to the side.

He heaved the shoulder bag up, swatting at Kondo when he tried to take it, and then set off across the apartment. “I wish you would’ve told me you were coming in early, though. I wanted to meet you at the station.”

Kondo followed in his footsteps, stopping short in the living space as Hijikata disappeared through an open door across the way. “Not feeling the element of surprise, Toshi?” It was a jovial inquiry, posed as he began collecting the papers that had been scattered over the floor. “I knew you’d be busy with writing so—”

Hijikata scoffed from the bedroom and called out, “Please.”

Shuffling through the pages, Kondo’s eyes lifted as Hijikata reemerged. “How’s it going? Progress, or…?”

“Heh. How’s it going?” Hijikata reiterated over a breath. One corner of his mouth pulled upward in discontent and reaching for the stack, he rifled a thumb through it. “It’s not.”

“Ah.” Kondo slouched his shoulders. “Writing is hard.”

“At this rate, this novel is never getting done.” With an aloof shrug, Hijikata clipped the manuscript back together, despite still being out of order, and let it flop on the glass coffee table. His palm rose to press to his forehead and then stroked back through his hair. “Yet another WIP on the pile, I guess.”

Kondo’s lips pursed in a sympathetic pout and he closed the space between them, extending a hand to stroke along Hijikata’s cheek and then pulling him into another embrace. “Ne…” he exhaled, his lips close to an ear. “How about this? I’m gonna shower and then cook dinner for you. And you can tell me all about what you’re stuck on.”

Hijikata’s spine straightened and he lifted his eyes to find Kondo’s. “How the hell is that fair?” he protested, his voice managing to sound both soft and agitated at once. “You were traveling all day. Why should you have to cook?”

Letting his lashes fall for a beat, Kondo shook his head as a tiny grin twitched at his lips. “Toshi-san, you misunderstand.” He gave a squeeze to his hips. “It’s not a matter of having to but wanting to.”

Hijikata’s brows pulled inward, studying Kondo in minor vexation…and at last, he relented with a nod. “Fine. As long as I help, then.”

“Deal.”

A beat. “And shower with you.”

Kondo lifted his chin, openly wearing his interest. “I’m liking these terms. Anything else?”

“Cht.” Knuckles hit softly against Kondo’s chest and Hijikata groused, “Shut up.” Their lips met in one more brief kiss as fingers entwined yet again, and hand-in-hand, they made a beeline for the shower room.

And though Kondo was fully present in the present itself, his mind revisited that conversation from last night, if only for a moment.

“It’s just that my dojo is so busy that sensei never allows me to leave for long. I’m stuck in one place forever,” Katsura had said at the networking dinner, red-faced and with sake cup raised. “Yes. You guys who get to traipse around in the name of business…” His eyes had drifted to Kondo and Saigo, to Ito and Sakamoto. “You really have all the luck.”

While Kondo undid the intricacies of Hijikata’s attire…while Hijikata undid the intricacies of his own, he had to acknowledge just indeed how lucky he was—not because of the reasons Katsura had cited, but because he could always come home to this.

“You’re smiling, Kondo-san,” Hijikata noted without lifting his gaze from the line of shirt buttons he made quick work of undoing.

And that…well, that only made Kondo smile even more.

// Thanks so much for reading! This story will have multiple parts. :D

¹ uchiwa: A traditional fan that doesn’t fold, and an essential item in the hell known as Japanese summer

² genkan: The recessed part of the entryway where one removes their shoes before entering a home or some businesses

³ taku: Shortened from mataku. Used to express annoyance

Also, I modified the picture used for this piece by putting a wedding ring on Toshi. lol

Chapter 2 >>

#toshisami #t1 #writing on plaid paper #long post #ridiculous domestic fluff #frick #...*casually replies to prompts sent 2 months ago*#sorry #shell-senji #asks

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yourghastlycloseness · 5 years ago

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yeah the department meeting depressed the hell out of me and convinced me that i’m terribly unfulfilled at work, but also, that maybe all that comes from within and i will carry this sadness in me everywhere i go

because everyone else my age seems to be coping alright, even if they’re not doing excellently

they actually have dreams and strive for healthy human relationships

meanwhile, i can’t seem to reciprocate or reach out, nor do i really want to

maybe this just isn’t the job for me

my colleagues are sweet and competent people, though. honestly, bosses don’t get better than this

one of them gave me a book voucher today haha which i spent immediately on endo’s silence

‘of course it’s jap lit,’ said C

yes, of course lol. i’d actually like to research japanese literature more seriously

i’ve got women court writers from the heian period like sei shonagon and murasaki shikibu on my reading list

was watching a ballet dancer break down yuzuru hanyu’s chopin program at pyeongchang. what i didn’t notice before was how hanyu doesn’t quite breathe through his mouth at the end of a performance; he breathes through his nose instead, so he -- and other figure skaters, i assume -- ends every performance with composure and grace and not like the panting monsters most of us are

what makes hanyu so pleasing to watch? the ballet dancer explained that when you put two dancers of equal ability side-by-side, the one with the ‘better face’ will be chosen. ‘better’ could mean more physically attractive. an expressive face with more structure and definition -- something you should be able to see from afar

that reminded of the heavy make-up they used for the actors in drama club

i can’t deny that part of hanyu’s magnetic appeal is how he looks

i should admit, too, that a part of me is so envious that a person can move the way he does. why do i desire to possess everything that is beautiful?

years ago, my therapist asked me a question that still sticks with me: ‘can you look at beautiful person and not think about wanting that beauty?’

simply put, my answer is no

i see a beautiful person and i want to be them

i don’t care if they’re dirt poor or if they have tragic family backgrounds or if they’re dumb as fuck or if they’ve raped and murdered 20 people

i want beauty and i want it all à la sharpay evans

later caught a podcast on suicide by a catholic pastor -- it wasn’t my intention to catch a christian podcast. i was thinking about killing myself again and wanted to hear people talk about suicide without skirting around the subject

i am only 17 minutes in but i am comforted by what the pastor said

he makes two interesting points

i) that we don’t know where a person who commits suicide ends up, but what we do know is that he goes to jesus, and god will make the judgement -- he does away with this idea of immediate and eternal condemnation for the act of suicide

ii) that doctors and clergymen have to work together to help people out of depression and to stop people from committing suicide

but there are points i disagree with

i) the pastor says that suicide can cut short this ‘plan’ that god has for you (it is believed that god has a plan for everyone) -- OK, but what if the plan was for me to precisely end my life at the age of 25, and to make others realize that this isn’t the right thing to do. alternatively, what if i were a homicidal pedophile in the making, where such tendencies would reach its peak in my thirties? coincidentally, i happen to be struggling with depression and ended up taking my own life before i could harm anyone else. what if suicide was the plan after all? it is a possibility to consider.

ii) the pastor argues very firmly that suicide is ‘sin’ for it brings pain to the people around you -- can you honestly say the same about elderly suicides? or about people who have lost all their family? we have to accept that there are people out there who aren’t loved, whose bodies are replaceable (think foxconn, sweatshops)

we don’t have enough information to make a blanket moral judgement that all suicide is sin

i won’t call myself a non-believer; i went through a phase of superficial pantheism haha where i saw god as the universe and the universe as god, but i no longer identify too closely with that, partly because i was working hard to fill a spiritual void back then and pantheism was the closest thing i could find to an antidote

christianity, or any institutionalized religion for that matter, has never made sense to me

simply for this reason: we don’t know if god exists

when we don’t know, we can choose to:

i) maintain that we don’t know (ie. god may or may not exist)

ii) assume the positive (ie. god exists)

iii) assume the negative (ie. god doesn’t exist)

ii) and iii) never made sense to me at all. this has been the main obstacle for me. i actually tried to get into religion between 2014-2015 lol

something else i don’t believe in: judgement before god

maybe i’m not understanding the bible correctly (frankly, i wanted to fall asleep after the first page of genesis), but how can you judge my lived experience when you have never had to live as a mere mortal with no extraordinary destiny or circumstances yourself?

i refuse to be judged by something like that

i cook like a sissy

i hold the spatula at an arm’s length away and i approach the pan from a 45 degree angle so that i don’t get hot oil splattering onto my forearm

suicide ideas

a few ways i’m thinking of committing suicide right now. i think i mentioned method #1 on my old blog, but not the others. i’m filing them all here for reference. these are what worked:

1. MBS - death of wilim/willim charles

https://www.straitstimes.com/singapore/man-who-fell-from-52nd-floor-of-mbs-probably-committed-suicide-coroner

https://www.asiaone.com/print/News/AsiaOne%2BNews/Crime/Story/A1Story20130516-423065.html

A tourist, whose body was badly severed in the fall from the 52nd floor of the Marina Bay Sands Hotel last June, was likely to have committed suicide, a coroner court heard on Tuesday.

The head and torso of Mr Wilim Charles were found on a 17th floor balcony while his legs were found in the fountain on the ground floor. Other parts of him were scattered about.

In his findings, State Coroner Imran Abdul Hamid noted that Mr Charles had used a deck chair to climb over the 1.1m-tall glass barricade of the balcony, stepped onto the planter's box and fallen to his death.

He was last seen alive smoking a cigar seated at a desk in the suite by the butler who came to carry Ms Lee's bags down at about 4pm. Casino records showed that although he was a Diamond Reward member, he was not a frequent gambler, having last played on April 14 last year. There was also about $43,000 in cash in the suite.

i like how he died. pretty fancy to be described as being ‘last seen alive smoking a cigar seated at a desk’ and having ‘$43,000 in cash in the suite’. i’m getting noir vibes all around haha

i’m not a fan of body parts being scattered about though. so i might want to bring this down to maybe the 30th-40th floor if i decide to attempt it like he did

2. kushiro coast -- death of wei qiu jie

https://japantoday.com/category/national/Body-found-on-Kushiro-coast-may-be-that-of-missing-Chinese-woman

https://www.scmp.com/news/china/society/article/2108965/body-confirmed-be-chinese-tourist-missing-japan

The body of a young woman was discovered along the coastline of Kushiro City, Hokkaido, on Sunday. Police believe the body may be that of Wei Qiu Jie, 26, a Chinese woman who has been missing since July 23.

Around 6 a.m. on Sunday, a man who was kelp fishing along the beach at Katsurakoi, discovered the body that had washed ashore and immediately notified the police, Fuji TV reported. The woman had long hair and was wearing a beige skirt and white blouse, similar to the clothes Wei was wearing when she was last seen.

She had left her hotel in Sapporo on July 22 for the day, leaving some of her luggage behind, but never returned.

Police later discovered she checked into a hotel at Akan Lake, about 300km from Sapporo, the same night she left Sapporo.

Witnesses said she boarded a tour boat at the lake and was last seen on surveillance camera footage at a convenience store in the nearby coastal city of Kushiro on July 23.

i like this one because i’m seeing millais’ ophelia in the water. the painting has been my laptop lock screen wallpaper for years haha

unfortunately, i’m a pretty alright swimmer. i imagine that i’d fight really hard if i tried to drown myself. i’d probably need to weigh myself down with a lot of rocks in my pockets (like virigina woolf) and bind my arms and legs when i go into the water

3. burning coal briquettes in a hotel room -- death of kim jong-hyun

https://www.straitstimes.com/lifestyle/entertainment/jonghyun-lead-singer-for-south-korean-boyband-shinee-dies-reports

K-pop group SHINee member Kim Jong Hyun, 27, died on Monday (Dec 18) in an apparent suicide, according to local reports.

Police found him unconscious at 6.10pm Korea time in his own apartment located in Cheongdam-dong, in the upscale Gangnam district, after his sister made a report at 4.42pm saying that her brother seemed suicidal.

The YTN news channel, however, reported that Mr Kim had checked into a serviced residence for two nights.

Mr Kim was taken to a nearby hospital, but eventually died.

Reports suggested he died of cardiac arrest from suspected carbon monoxide poisoning.

He was found to have burned a coal briquette on a frying pan. Charcoal briquettes can cause carbon monoxide poisoning in closed rooms.

i would probably choose a hotel room that comes with a kitchenette in tokyo. i went to seoul alone to get a feel of the city as a resting place, but it didn’t vibe with me as much as tokyo did

4. yellowknife, ingraham trail - death of atsumi yoshikubo

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/north/atsumi-yoshikubo-wrote-a-suicide-note-before-leaving-japan-1.2825863

Yoshikubo, 45, was a doctor who enjoyed travelling solo. She was reported missing Oct. 27, 2014 by staff at the Explorer Hotel.

Staff at the Explorer Hotel, where she was staying by herself, found all of her luggage in her room three days after she was supposed to have checked out. They called police, who found she'd missed her flight home to Japan on Oct. 26.

At the time, police said she had been last seen walking away from the city toward Highway 4, also called the Ingraham Trail.

Because investigators found only bone fragments, they couldn't determine exactly what caused Yoshikubo's death.

They did find two notes left by Yoshikubo: one, an apparent suicide note for friends and family in Japan; the other, found by searchers with her possessions in the bush in Yellowknife.

"It included... how much she loved the North, how much she loved Yellowknife, how much she loved the aurora," Menard said. "She expressed her wishes about wanting to be buried here."

unfortunately, we don’t know how exactly yoshikubo died.

but i imagine there are many ways one could die in the woods. starvation, dehydration, hypothermia, bear attack (if i’m going to go down like leo in the revenant, i expect an afterlife oscar)

i imagine it would be nice to die in the north toohttps://www.straitstimes.com/lifestyle/entertainment/jonghyun-lead-singer-for-south-korean-boyband-shinee-dies-reports

other suicides cases i’ve read about and will KIV when considering methods:

kate spade

christine chubbuck

sulli

hara

sylvia plath

krystal aki mizoguchi

daul kim

iris chang

kevin carter

paula goodspeed

keiko fuji

yukiko okada

simone mareuil

hanging is ideal to me. but man, what if i don’t get the knot right lol

#suicide

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morbidmanatee · 7 years ago

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10 Questions

tagged by @joeshmoe189

Who is the most special to you?

There’s way too many people I care about for me to answer that question

Have you ever made a teacher mad at you? (I know I have several times…)

Hm, I was always a bit of a teacher’s pet. There was a time in children’s church though where me, my brother, and a couple of our friends were all at church super early so we were playing in one of the empty classrooms, lost track of time, and were still playing there well into church service. That church was small enough that the kids’ pastor recognized our absence and tracked us down.

How do you like your eggs?

Scrambled or over easy.

Is Coran Coran a gorgeous man?

...Coran Coran? Like Duran Duran? Are we talking about Mr. Mustache Man from Voltron? Not my type.

What is your favorite meme trend(s) so far?

Oh gosh. Uh. Well I’m a big fan of “hecking” becoming a meme because now I don’t look so weird when I say that instead of a “real swear.” Honestly all I can think of right now are old vines... Oh, I also like the humans-are-weird posts. Not only because they’re funny, but it’s also--in its own way--about unity. We say “humans are weird” but what we’re really doing is taking a step back to an outsider’s perspective so that we can see what unites us all. Even if that’s something as small as wanting to “pet everything that doesn’t scan as poisonous.” I could go on about how memes are all inherently about connecting with other humans BUT I DIGRESS

Did you all remember to d r i n c c your women respecting juice today?

I always drink my women respecting juice. Every day. It’s the only thing I drink. I am dying of dehydration

What’s heavier? a kilogram of steel or a kilogram of feathers?

But... but steel’s heavier than feathers...

If you do art, what’s your favorite art medium to work with? If you don’t do art, what art style is the most aesthetically pleasing to you?

Oooooooh, well, charcoal was my favorite from my drawing 1 class, and pen and ink has been my favorite from 2D design class. I’m kind of in the experimentation phase right now where I try a bunch of different mediums and see what sticks. I’m signed up for drawing 2 (with colored pencils and oil pastels) and ceramics 1 next semester!

What’s the longest you’ve stayed up and what’s the longest you’ve slept?

I don’t know what the longest I’ve slept is, but there have been a few times where I decided to pull an all-nighter for the heck of it. It was a m i s t a k e

What’t a deep philosophical question? Specifically one that can only be taken seriously while high, in a waffle house, at 3 am?

I’ve never been high in a Waffle House at 3 AM, so how about a deep philosophical question that can only be taken seriously by my middle school self?

“Weird” means “different from what’s normal,” but everyone’s different. Therefore, everyone’s weird. THEREFORE, WEIRD IS NORMAL, WHICH IS IMPOSSIBLE.

I tag: @thecaroliner @the-movie-that-was-never-made @forksalesperson and anyone else who wants to do this, mutual or not! (Only if you want to, of course.) My questions for you are:

1. Craft your most convincing argument for something that you don’t actually believe. The crazier the conclusion, the better. Convince me!

2. Given the choice, would you rather have breakfast for dinner or dinner for breakfast?

3. If you had the opportunity to instantly be fluent in any language, which one would you pick?

4. You’re hiking in the forest when you find a sign that says, “BEWARE: FAERIES! TURN BACK!” What do you do?

5. Which is better: retro or futuristic?

6. What do you call the part of the pizza that isn’t the crust?

7. Grab a book. Close your eyes and flip to a random page. You must now write something intellectual about something mentioned on that page. How long you write is your choice

8. What your younger self be most surprised about who you are now?

9. Which of the planets in our solar system is your favorite?

10. Do you prefer your spooks elegant or gory? (i.e., ghosts in Victorian clothes vs zombies with rotting flesh)

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kingminie · 8 years ago

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blazing arrows | pt. 3

❝The majority calls me Cupid, but, you can call me Jimin—I believe I owe you some debts for a mistake now long overdue.❞

⌲ genre: fluff, angst, future smut, & supernatural, au.

⌲ member: jimin feat. jungkookie

⌲ word count: 7.1 k

⌲ warnings: future mature content & shit tons of swearing.

↠ description: Stuck in what seemed to be unrequited relationship with Jeon Jungkook who just so happens to be in committed relationship with someone else as well, your heart was fragmented beyond any repair. So what exactly happens when you enter your room at 3 in the morning to find the culprit of your hellish misery, counting his gold-tipped arrows on the foot of your bed—wings outstretched and all?

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | ongoing

It had been exactly two weeks and six days since Jimin had made his very first appearance, two weeks and six days since you had last seen Jungkook in the middle of the supermarket aisle with nothing but a hasty exchange of introduction between him and Jimin, two weeks and six days since you've last talked to each other (which was a pretty clean record since the longest you've been without talking to each other was twelve minutes—yes you've reached that pathetic low bottom where you actually counted the minutes). It has also been precisely two weeks and six days since Jimin had been occupying the bedroom across yours, a full twenty days of actually living with him—which really wasn't half as bad as you thought it was, because quite frankly, it was the other way around.

In the course of having no any type of communication with your best friend, Jimin pretty much took your mind off of any pessimistic thoughts with his presence alone, which was reasonably impressive considering the fact that you really had been down the past days. In such a short span of living together—jeez, you'll never get used to saying that—you had already done so much things together and veritably acknowledging it, you haven't even done these things with anyone else. Not even Jungkook nor Taehyung.

"Y/N," Jimin's voice echoed around the living room and you rolled your eyes, "Y/N."

"What?" you yelled back, "I'm in the middle of something here."

"Y/N," you sighed, putting down the spatula in defeat as you dragged your feet out the kitchen and towards the living room where Jimin was keyword trying to clean up—not a single thing was in their respective places despite the numerous repetitions of what was supposed to be done, as a matter of fact, you realized that the room was way messier after Jimin took over.

"What do you need this time?" you stood in front of him, both eyebrows raised.

"Nothing," he shook his head, grinning triumphantly to himself, "Just wanted to see you."

Is this kid serious? You thought to yourself as your jaw dropped in disbelief, eyes closing in irritation. You took an extremely long time inhaling a deep breath before peeking one eye open, a glare directed at Jimin who had both his palms open underneath his chin, cupping his face as he smiled innocently, "I'll give you a five-second head start. Five, four—one. "

One thing that had changed in Jimin under the course of living together, it was that he had become way too comfortable around you that every ounce of shyness and reservation he once had ceased to exist—some days, you can't help but wish for the timid Jimin to resurface once again at some certain times, but you also couldn't deny the fact that this Jimin had been the one that helped you hold your sanity unscathed in the past few days. If it weren't for the fact that Jimin came out of his own shell and had initiated for you to become friends, you probably would've done nothing but sulk in our room, pathetically and hopelessly staring at your phone, waiting for that one specific call you knew would never come.

Add in the fact that he had also been getting way too comfortable with his new wardrobe—turning away from his dress shirts and khakis—that you both went out to shop for (after going back to his realm for quiet a while, he had returned with a filthy amount of money you didn't know where he got), if he had been hot before the first time you saw him then he's absolutely smoking every single day now. Parading around the house in nothing but a black shirt and tight sweatpants that clearly left nothing to the imagination, your eyes don't have much choice now, do they?

"You didn't even count to five," he whined, curled up on the floor as he cradled his toe that he had stubbed on the table leg as he attempted to run away from your wrath.

"Do I look like I care?" you jeered, mercilessly sitting down on the side of his hip before poking his sides, cries of both laughter and apologies escaping his mouth as he writhed on the ground, nearly kicking your face in doing so, "Boy, you better keep it in your shirt, your wings are showi—holy shit, my eggs."

The smell of burnt food invaded your senses and you vividly remembered that you had been cooking before Jimin had oh-so importantly called your name. Hastily standing up, you run towards the kitchen in high hopes that your eggs could still be salvaged, Jimin's own footsteps thundering behind you as you both raced to where the awful burning smell came from. A frown spread on your lips as you helplessly stared at the useless mess in the middle of the frying pan, what once was a bright yellow omelette had now become a bunch of smoking charcoals, an unrecognizable pile of black scrap waiting to be thrown away.

"My eggs," you whispered in horror, "Oh my god, my masterpiece."

"I'm sorry?" Jimin rocked on his heels, an apologetic look on his face as he nibbled on his finger.

Impotent, it seemed like your energy left you as you leaned your back on the edge of the counter, quietly staring at the still-burning pan, Jimin cautiously waiting for you to speak as his wide eyes followed every twist of expression you make. Your eyes found his, seeing him pursing his lips as he looked down on the ground and you sighed, a small smile twitching on the corners of your lips as you couldn't even find it within your self to get angry with him.

You reached up, pinching his cheeks as you chuckled to your self, "It's not your fault, you dork. It wasn't that good anyway, now that I think of it."

"I'm sure it would've been the best."

"Oh stop it, Jimin, you're making me blush," you joked, pushing yourself off the counter to clean up the mess when your phone chimed, so you dust your hand off Jimin's shirt, which he opened his mouth to protest to before changing his mind and flashing you a fraudulent smile in return.

[8:11] Tae: i'm calling!!! hehe oh and we're getting breakfast fyi.

Not even a second passing by after you had received and read the text, his contact appeared on the screen, along with the candid picture of him that you had previously set as his contact photo. Seeing as you had to clean up the mess you had left in the kitchen, you rest your phone between your ear and your shoulders as you turned off the stove.

"Is your life that tedious that you have to go out of your way and bother mine?" With no remorse whatsoever, you mutter immediately as the line connected.

"Well, it's not exactly out of the way, I'm like ten minutes away from your house—"

"Kim Taehyung, my house is exactly an hour and a half drive from yours," you deadpanned, "and clearly, if you're ten minutes away, considering the drive itself and the amount of time you had to spend in dressing yourself—which we know is a very long time—you had been up since five in the morning—ah, fuck."

"Be a little more careful, don't you?" Jimin spoke quietly, his hands taking over yours as he grabbed the pan himself, taking out its content as he neatly dumped them in the trash bin, "You go ahead, I'll clean this up."

"If I didn't know better, I would've thought you were actually in the middle of getting laid," Taehyung's laughter echoed on the other end of the line, "Who was that?"

"A friend you don't have to know about."

"Is Jungkook there?" he asked before a loud honk nearly busted you ears, "What the fuck, man? Stay in your lane, asshole. Anyway, the jerk's not answering my calls and texts the past few days."

"No, he's not," you lift yourself from the ground, sitting cross-legged on top of the counter as you smiled in amusement as you stare at Jimin's back while he cleaned the sink, "And what makes you think I'm any different? I gave up trying to reach him since last week. He's probably floating off dead in some ditch somewhere."

Jimin turned around, an eyebrow raised in curiosity and you shook your head, brushing him off.

"I just thought he was with you since that's what he's been doing literally every time he's over your house."

"Well, I don't know about his whereabouts either. Try calling his girlfriend, you might actually find some answers if you do," you trace the pattern on the counter near your legs, not even surprised in the slightest when Jimin's fingers lifted your chin, brownie waiting to be eaten in his hand as he stood in front of you, a rag held in another, "It's been shitty talking to you, Tae, but if you don't want to wait another half hour when you arrive here, you'd let me go and change."

"Fine," he grumbled as yet another honk sounded on the other end of the line, followed by his explicit cursing that would make a pirate bow to his knees, "I'll see you soon, loser, oh, and feel free to bring whoever you friend is. It would be a bonus if your friend's a she."

"I never intended to leave him here, anyway."

"Oh," you could hear the sheer disappointment coating his voice as soon as you said the third-person pronoun, laughing to yourself before hanging up.

"You have somewhere to be?" Jimin didn't waste another second to ask as you shoved your phone down your back pocket.

Your hand found his nose to pinch momentarily before he swatted your hands away, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pinning them to your side, "We have somewhere to be," your hand came down on his with a loud slapping sound, "So run along and change into something decent, you dork. Go, go, go."

Not even halfway through your sentence ad he was already making a beeline for the kitchen door, his voice echoing as he trudge towards the stairs, "Would a shirt and a jacket suffice?"

"You might as well be naked, I wouldn't really complain," you muttered underneath your breath before picking another brownie Jimin had left in the middle of the counter, yelling through the mouthful of chocolate goodness, "More than enough!"

Turns out, a simple shirt and jacket in Park Jimin's dictionary was an outfit straight out of an elite fashion magazine with himself being the flawless model. Frankly, it wasn't that much of a complex nor extravagant ensemble—he just made it seem like it was one. Layered underneath the thin red cardigan was a simple black shirt with a minimal text out front, a sleek leather jacket finishing off the layers on his upper body, and to be quite honest, you really didn't want to start on how his jeans fitted him because really, you wouldn't have much time nor enough words to describe how fucking fine it suited him and his thighs.

Lord, spare me and give me the will to refrain from committing a sin, you prayed in your thoughts as soon as you went out your bedroom door when you finished getting dressed yourself, only to be greeted with Jimin's door opening at the same time, and fuck were your eyes ready to fall out of your head and your jaw bracing itself to detach from your face as soon as your gaze landed on him.

"You sure you two aren't walking the runway? Because holy shit, you look badass," were Taehyung's first exact words when you and Jimin emerged from the front door. He had been leaning on the hood of his car, scrolling through his phone and sipping his unhealthy drink when you suddenly showed up in his vision, your unintentional similar outfits catching his attention under one full second.

"He's a copy cat," you point to Jimin who rolled his eyes, before flashing a smile towards Taehyung.

"Jimin," he grinned, "I'm a friend of hers. It's nice to meet you."

"Kim Taehyung at your service," Taehyung did a curtsy before directing his gaze towards you, "Congratulations, you actually made a friend besides Jungkook, Yoongi, and I."

"Excuse you," you raised an eyebrow, "I'm perfectly capable of making friends, thank you. And for the record, I actually have friends besides you."

Right after that, you opened the passenger door, keeping the seat all to yourself as you left the two boys outside, not caring to eavesdrop on whatever they were saying.

The ride to wherever breakfast establishment Taehyung was taking you to was quite fun, not counting the times—which was more than half the totality of it—where you had to basically pull back both the boys' shirts for them not to roll over the highway at the rate their bodies were hanging out of their rolled-down windows, taking to mind that your alien of a best friend who was the one maneuvering the wheel was the one who started the insanity of hanging out the window while driving. So, imagine how much relief flooded through your veins when you had miraculously and finally parked on some parking lot, the car stopping in a perfect parallel park. How Taehyung did it, you had no clue.

"Why did I even agree to this shit in the first place?" you sighed to yourself as you unsteadily rounded the car, Jimin's laughter resounding through your ears as his arm casually draped around your waist in hopes to help you regain your balance.

"Are you okay?" I won't be if you keep surprising me with these rude touches of yours, you thought to yourself as you smoothly slid away from his hold, only to be pulled back once again by the wrist. You stood face-to-face with Jimin who grinned as he snatched the glasses which were idly perched on your head before putting them on you, "There."

"You look really good together," your head moved towards Taehyung who had his phone up before snapping a picture—leave it to him to let his shutter be as loud as it could get.

"Let's just go, I'm hungry," you rolled your eyes, trudging forward ahead of the guys, "Someone made me burn the eggs I was supposed to eat."

"Oi, you said it was okay," Hearing Jimin protest in his defense, you turned around to poke your tongue, "I was perfectly fine making you another one."

"And get food poisoning? No thank you."

[9:02 A.M.] Kookie: you got breakfast with taeshit and some other dOod without me?? :(((

[9:02 A.M.] Kookie: you traitor. i don't love u anymore smh

"You're alive?" you muttered under your breath, but not quiet enough for the boys not to hear since they both moved their heads in your direction as you took a seat, Jimin beside you and Taehyung across you. Tae had an eyebrow raised, knowing fully well that it had been Jungkook that texted you, while Jimin barely sent you a glance before focusing back on the abundance of food being shown on the menu, muttering praises of awe and wonder as he read every single time from the front page to the back, "How did he even know? Did you text him?"

[9:04 A.M.] Y/N: who are you? i'm sorry but i don't know you :)

"I may or may not have posted your picture with Jimin on SnapChat..." Taehyung flashed you his box smile, a chuckled leaving his mouth and you copied him, only this time around it was forced, "Why? He finally texted you?"

"Hm..." you nodded, locking your phone as you let it slid on the surface of the table before facing Jimin, "What are you getting?"

He turned his head to face you, eyes widened in panic, "I really don't know what to get."

"Just get the plate, you don't have to order individually," you chuckled before smiling towards the pretty server that stood shocked on the end of the table, her eyes jumping from the Kim Taehyung and Jimin, her hands blatantly shaking as she took your orders, "We'll have two Classics and a vanilla milkshake for me. You?"

"Chocolate milkshake, please, thank you," Jimin smiled politely before handing her the menu which she gladly received.

"Make that two," Taehyung spoke, flashing a smile, "and the cheese pancake and bacon medley."

"Would that be all, sir?" she asked, earning hums and nods of affirmation before a blush dusted her cheeks as she stuttered over her words, her lower lip being nibbled on by her upper teeth, her eyes set nervously on Taehyung as she flipped the paper to a new, untainted page, "Would it be okay if I take your autograph, sir? I'm really sorry for—"

"Hey, it's totally cool, don't worry." Tae gave her a genuine smile as he got the paper, putting it flat on the table before scribbling whatever message he had on his mind.

"Is he famous or something?"

Curiosity was written all over Jimin's face as he stared at the two's interaction. You nodded once he turned his attention to you, "Yeah, he kinda is," before a thought occurred to you that had you nearly rolling over in laughter as you remembered.

"He's a writer," you wheezed as soon as you got your breathing balanced, weird looks sent to you by Taehyung so you tugged Jimin's jacket to you that his body was nearly toppling over yours, "You know what title his book has? The Art of Cupid's Arrows."

Jokes about this particular topic was thrown back and forth as you wait for your food to come. So left with really nothing to do besides wait—both for the food and yet another one of Jungkook's text—you stood up, dragging Jimin with you while doing so, your eyes set on the claw crane in the corner of the diner, a giddy smile on your face.

Jimin laughed as he trailed behind, "You're such a child."

His eyes fastened on you as you got in a position, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he watched you. In the short span of living with you, he had already knew certain little things you unintentionally do; like how your left eye would slightly twitch when your mind concentrated and focused on something you had really wanted, how you twisted your the ends of your hair when you were bored, how you would scrunch your nose whenever find things going the opposite direction of how you wanted it to be—it was little things like those that unintentionally brings a smile on his face, surprising even himself when he feels himself grinning from ear to ear.

He let out another laugh as he watched a frown adorn your lips as the claw seemed to slip past the fabric of the stuff toy, gently pushing you to the side as he took over the clawing machine, getting the stuff toy you had wanted without exerting much effort on his part, "See? Easy."

You narrowed your eyes, "I'll try again."

"No need, I got this for you," he grinned, holding out the stuffed tiger.

Surprising both yourself and him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down in a tight hug. His eyes widened, a soft oof spilling out his lips from the impact of your pull, his cheeks flushing crimson when he felt your breath tickling his neck, his arms slowly raising to wrap around your waist, a smile pulling his lips until his cheeks started to hurt. You momentarily sway the both of you before pulling away, hugging the stuffed toy to yourself, "Thank you."

A vibration on your pocket pulled you out of your peaceful reverie.

[9:32 A.M.] Kookie: i know your mad at me. and i'm really sorry. let me explain myself?

[9:36 A.M.] Kookie: please.

Not wasting another second in pushing your phone back into your pocket with not so much as a reply to him, you let a grin graze your lips, you both returned to your tables, spending the rest of your day with Taehyung, your mind not even dwelling on a certain someone named Jeon Jungkook.

And for that, you were beyond grateful that Cupid showed up at your bedroom door, wings and all.

"Can I see you?"

You hated it; you absolutely and utterly hated it, how your heart seemed to cave in underneath your chest, unwanted feelings you tried so hard repressing blossoming out from the deepest abyss of your heart and mind with such a simple sentence coming out his mouth; despising how easy the words spilled out his mouth with such nonchalance and inattention that it broke you, because you knew he meant those words in such a harmless way that was in such a huge contrast to how it exactly meant to you.

"Please, I—" you hear him take a deep breath, "I really need to see you."

One known fact about Jeon Jungkook is that he had his way with his words, words laced with that wondrous tinge of magic simply in whatever sentence he speaks to people that entices them to oblige to his words, and quite frankly, you were not an exception to those people, yet hearing his voice on the phone as someone who had been his best friend for years that you had already distinguished what his voice is trying push across before he could even finish his sentence, your hear the honest desperation and plead entwined in his voice.

"Jungkook, it's already late," you sighed, hands running through your hair, "and it's freezing cold outside. Believe me, I want to see you too, you disappearing dork, but we can talk tomorrow, you go to sleep."

You suddenly stared at Jimin's body, huddled in a fetal position as he nestled the top of the blankets to his chest, his shoulders steadily falling and rising with a small smile on his face. You run a hand through his hair, surprised at how soft it actually was, before his eyes slowly fluttered open before confusion coated his face as he looked around your bedroom, raspy voice speaking in a broken soft whispers, "Oh, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's okay, go ahead and continue—" A grin found it way into your face as you stared at his tilted head that had already landed back on your pillows, his eyes closing as soft snores escaped his lips, "—sleeping. Goodnight, Jimin."

It had been an unexpected movie night with Jimin filled with an endless supply of junk foods and laughter as you sat alongside each other on your dark bedroom, his presence filling in the cold void Jungkook had left with his own warmth as he sat there smiling along as you laughed your heart out at some scenes in the countless movies you had watched the night prior, something Jungkook used to do with you before switching your movie nights to sleepovers in his girlfriend's house.

You had been on the fifth consecutive movie when you noticed Jimin's head slightly bobbing back and forth, his head snapping in attention as he fought his sleepiness while you continued watching, and it wasn't a while after when you pulled out your phone to snap an adorable photo of him—his heading turned towards the ceiling as his lips slightly parted as snores started to make its way towards his mouth, slightly laughing to yourself before stuffing a pillow underneath his neck to support his head, placing the blanket over his figure as you tried to silently pick up the litter you left around the bedroom, cautious enough not to disturb him.

It was exactly times like those that you really appreciated having Jimin around—not only did he make you forget whatever sadness you had within you because of Jungkook suddenly disappearing off the face of the Earth, but because he actually made you happy in a way that was so simple yet so sufficient; not only because he felt the need to reimburse whatever he owed you when he wrongly shot you with his arrow, but because he actually wanted to spend time you, becoming someone who you can call as a friend that you actually had become thankful he had shot that arrow.

"—Y/N?" Eyes widening, you pick up the phone that idly sat in your hand.

"Oh, my God, Jungkook, I'm so sorry. I got distracted—where exactly are you?" your voice raised unintentionally in panic as you hear his teeth chattering, surely blowing some air in front of him, "Are you drunk?"

"No, no, I swear I'm not," he protested, "Please don't get mad but I'm right outside your front door."

"What?"

"I'm outside your door—"

"I heard what you said, Jungkook, it's just—are you serious?" you muttered in disbelief as you hurriedly pulled Jimin's hoodie from the edge of the bed, putting in on in haste as you tried to find some post-it note to leave behind in case Jimin wakes up, "Hold on, I'm coming out. Jesus, Jungkook."

"Can you hurry? My ass is turning ice." Leave it to him to turn his mood a complete three-sixty in two minutes.

"You're in no position to complain, you asshole. You brought this one upon yourself, I mean, what the hell is wrong with you?" you rolled your eyes as you pasted the note on the wall in a visible position if the arrow-shooter wakes up, adrenaline and worry running through your veins in harsh rapids that you didn't even notice your house key on the bedside table.

As you rushed down the stairs of your house, you really couldn't comprehend how big of an idiot Jeon Jungkook was. Winter has long started so inevitably, the weather outside would be way colder than it already was, temperature dropping to something lesser than zero degrees seeing as it was already close to one in the freaking morning.

Shoving your other hand in your—Jimin's, rather—hoodie pockets out front, you struggle to pull the locks of your front before you came face to face with none other than your best friend who was rocking on both his heel back and forth as he blew unto his frozen fingers, rolling your eyes as you pulled him inside by the ear, complaints and curses escaping his mouth.

"Are you stupid?" was the first you said to him when you both stood inside, safe from the harsh blowing winds.

"I do stupid things when it comes to you," he muttered as he rolled his eyes before glaring at you, "You didn't answer my last texts this morning."

"Well, you didn't answer my texts the past weeks, did you?" you scoffed, "You're so dramatic, Jungkook. What if I hadn't answered that phone call? You could've died of hypothermia."

"Well, I'm lucky you answered, then."

"You're fucking impossible," you jabbed a finger on his chest, his stance not even wavering a bit from the assault—which you know wasn't that soft, "and I still hate you, for your information."

"And that," Jungkook smirked, "is exactly why you don't have to wonder why I'm here."

You stared at him, disbelief coursing your veins the more you continued to stare at him. He really is stupid, you sighed in defeat as you plopped down on the couch, too spent and sleepy from the simple activity you had not long ago did, and at the same time, too tired and frustrated to deal with the pile of shit that came with Jungkook at this time on night. Out of all the people on this planet, why did you have to go and fall for someone like this oblivious bunny?

"And it couldn't really wait until tomorrow?"

He seemed to think to himself, plopping down right into you, before grinning up at you, hands encircling your waist tightly before he bared his teeth in a huge smile, two enormous ront teeth digging on his lower lips. He really did look like a bunny. "No."

Swallowing both your frustration and dignity that screamed right then and there to pull him closer to you, you did the complete opposite and wriggled your way out of his tight hold, "Get off, you loser."

It was silent for a few minutes, just you lying on the couch and him sprawled out on the floor underneath you. You really would've fallen asleep if it weren't for him suddenly standing up from his position on the floor, fingers fastening their tight hold on you as he pulled you up from the peaceful reverie you were quite enjoying on the couch.

"Let's go for a walk."

"Excuse me?" you looked up at him as if he had suddenly grew two legs, not absorbing his absurd words, "You're insane if you think I'm actually going with y—what the fuck are you doing, put me down!"

And before you even knew it, your front door was slammed shut behind your flipped figure as you mercilessly pummel on Jungkook's ass with as much power as you could muster, shivering at the instant the cold, crisp air managed it's way through the thin material of your grey sweatpants before you gave up on Jungkook's tight grip on your thighs as he carried you across the road, leaving you to stare longingly at your front door.

"You're really getting it, Jeon Jungkook."

A frown found its way into your face once you heard his laugh echo through the isolated neighborhood. Now that you actually see it, the dark streets with the addition of the flickering lights didn't do much comfort when you suddenly realized that it looked like a scene straight out of a movie—not the usual romance movie you usually dreamt of starring in with Jungkook but a straight up horror gore movie where you where most like to get abducted and be murdered.

"Kookie," your tough resolve completely vanished as you pressed your palms against his back, small voice that resembled that of a child replacing what used to be your strong voice laced with dominance and certainty, "you're not taking me somewhere grassy and killing me, right?"

Stiffening, Jungkook halted his tracks, "Oh my, you've got me all figured out."

"Idiot." You rolled your eyes, slapping the back of his thighs.

Bless Jeon Jungkook for putting up with your violent tendencies that more or less made up more than half the summary of your friendship.

"Seriously, I don't even want to know what you're thinking about half of the time." Mostly you, you thought to yourself before you caught yourself, chuckling at your idiocy, "See? Your even laughing all to yourself with no reason."

"Shut up."

You continued sulking even after he had fastened your own seat belt, despite how fast your heart raced when he casually leaned over, breath softly hitting the surface of your skin as he reached for the belt, flashing you a smile when he flipping stopped right in front of you, merely two inches between your faces before he pulled away and rounded the car.

It was no denying that despite the harsh blow of crisp and cold air that nearly froze your lungs, it was an incredibly beautiful night. The stars astonishingly scattered in such a mesmerizing mess that captured your eyes, feeling your breath got stuck in your throat as you pressed your face against the cold window of Jungkook's car, simply gazing at the vast stretch of masterpiece that painted the skies above.

After quite a while of driving, you feel the car come to a slow stop, your eyes widening when the Jungkook raised the roof of the car, completely exposing yourselves to the unforgiving blow of icy winds that breezed past. Opening your mouth to protest, you were forced to close it back when Jungkook leaned his body forward, your soul nearly riding along with the winds as he did so. Your breathing stopped, you were well-aware it did, as he got extremely closer that once you turn your head even slightly to the side, then, your lips would be undoubtedly touching.

You were rendered speechless once he pulled out a thick blanket from the backseat and two take-out coffee cups which still had steam rising from the holes in front.

"You came prepared, didn't you?" you scoffed as you accepted the steaming coffee from his grasp, encircling the warm cup in hopes to give some warmth to your freezing hands.

Jungkook remained silent as he reclined his seat the way you did to your own, his eyes trained on the skies above, millions of twinkling stars staring back at him. A sad smile pulled at your lips as you stared at him.

To you, Jeon Jungkook was a star in the infinite count of galaxies. He was that star that you couldn't help but search for every night. The star you long for wherever you go, the very star your eyes couldn't help but become glued to whenever you stare at the night sky. He was that star that stood out in the vast sea of stars that flooded the heavens, twinkling so brightly that it caught your heart until it became the only star you seem to know of and come back to each time you had the chance to.

But you knew to yourself that to you, Jeon Jungkook was far more than just a mere ordinary star. He was the sun while you were the Earth—he seemed to be the one giving you life, sustaining you the strength you needed whenever he was around, cheering you up on gloomy days that clouded your weather—but you also knew, so long as he remained the sun and you as the Earth, colliding was impossible; he would remain as that unreachable star that only dusted your own heavens, beautiful to see but dangerous and impossible to hold.

His eyes glanced at you for a second before he shuffled closer, both your bodies underneath the think blanket, the stick shift the only object between your body. Your grip tightened on the coffee cup, the liquid burning in your throat the same time his hand found yours underneath the fabric, intertwining tightly at the same rate your heart clenched, his head leaning on your shoulders as he continued gazing at the sky.

Why is he doing this? You thought to yourself as you stared at him as he closed his eyes in content, softly breathing in before exhaling a puff of air that moisturized as it flowed out.

There had been times where affections like this were considered nothing—he was your best friend, after all— and it hadn't been that much of huge deal when skinship surfaced in your friendship since Jungkook had always been the touchy-feely kind of guy. You remember that there had been times where affection like this had been considered nothing but then again, feelings happened. Your feelings happened that what once was innocent affection meat way more than what it was supposed to mean for you; and it hurt. It absolutely killed you how unfair it was that you were the only one feeling these things, but you really had no one to blame but yourself. Who told you to fall for him anyway

"Do you remember?" His voice sliced through the thick air like a sharpened sword.

"I have many things to remember, Kook," you reminded him, "Which one?"

"Back in junior year, when we first found this place," his thumb traced pattern on your skin, "you were crying back then when I found you here and ironically that was the day I got into a relationship with Ji Eun."

Exactly the reason why you found me here, heaving my lungs out as I cried because I found out you asked freaking Ji Eun out, you though to yourself as you rolled your eyes, pinching his hand which was holding yours, "Can we not talk about that?"

"Now that I think about it, I never really knew the reason why you were crying."

"Frankly, I was heartbroken..."

"Of Ji Eun and I?" he looked absolutely surprised and worried that you changed your mind.

Yes, you idiot. "Hell, no, you conceited ass." I'm lying. "You think you're the only one who got a girlfriend that day? Yoongi had one too."

His head turned upwards, eyes burning into your face as you gazed ahead, "You liked Yoongi? Min Yoongi?"

No, I liked you. "It's all in the past." I still like you.

"Wow," he breathe, "what a surprise."

"What do you mean by that?" you slightly pushed your shoulder upward to move his head, "And honestly, why did you even drag me out here? I'm sure it's not just because you wanted to know about my past liking towards Min Yoongi. So, what is it?"

"I just missed you." His answer surprised you that you nearly burst into flames as you sat stoically beside him, "I'm sorry I haven't been with you the past few weeks. It's just that I—"

"It's okay, you don't have to explain yourself. You're your own person and you're really not entitled to spend every day of your life hanging out with me." And because if you tell what I already know, it's going to break me even further, "I already know you're sorry, stop apologizing."

"You're really the best." He sighed, "Y/N?"

"Hm."

"I love you," your heart nearly beat out your chest as he looked up, engulfing you in a hug, your head in his chest this time as his arms encircled you. At this point, tears were unintentionally welling up in your eyes that you had to squeeze them shut to bring them back, "I know that I seldom say this but I really mean it. You're the best best friend anyone could ever ask for and I'm thankful I have you."

"I hate you, asshole." I wish I did. "Now, get off, this getting really emotional. I hate this shit."

Laughing, he let go of your hand before turning on the engine once again, "Where'd you wanna go?"

"Home," you answered in a heartbeat.

"Hey," Jungkook whined, pouting as he rounded the car back to the roads, "Tired of my face already?"

If you want me breaking into rounds of tears in your car the by any means, take me anywhere, "I'm just really tired."

Without much protest, he continued driving with the car roof open and you appreciated it. Closing your eyes, you let the frigid winter air penetrate through your skin as the car soared through the deserted streets, serene and tranquility surrounding you until the car slowed to a smooth stop across your house once again. Opening your eyes, you came to notice that Jungkook was already staring at you, sporting a small smile on his own face. You were about to spew a sarcastic comment when something hit the tip of your nose—something cold and white.

Eyes widening in recognition, you gaped as you tilt your head backwards, "Oh, my God." It was the first snowfall. With Jungkook. It wasn't exactly that you were an extreme romantic but you had known and believed about the first snowfall—hope burst in your chest as you gazed towards Jungkook but then it was too late. His phone was glued to his ear, a huge grin on his face as he talked to Ji Eun.

Right then and there, no matter how strong you had been holding yourself, all the walls broke down and you didn't know how much you could handle yourself. You pushed the car door open, in a sudden rush as more snowfall pelted down from the sky. No matter how beautiful it was, you were far too hurt to process this. You just had to get away from Jungkook as fast as possible before he could witness you break down in tears.

Not even a second later as you walked across the road to get to your house, a traitor tear escaped from your eye and before you knew it, you were crying.

Just then, you felt a hand tugging your sweater close to them, cold hands wiping off the tears that had already messily mixed with the heavy snow that fell around you—so much white that you didn't get to see who was in front of you. Their hand pushed your hair back away from your wet face and just then, you could see him.

His grey hair was dusted with snowflakes, along with the ones that got caught in his eyelashes and the tip of his nose that would've made you smile if it were't for the fact that you had become a sobbing mess right in front of him. Park Jimin is beautiful, that was a no-brainer.

He gave you a hesitant smile, "I'm not exactly a pro at these things but I can give you a hug."

You wasted no time wrapping your arms around his waist, so tight that it made him catch his breath but he made no protest whatsoever because he knew this was what you needed. His arms wrapped themselves around your shaking figure and it seemed to pierce his chest as he knew if he just hadn't stupidly and recklessly shoot that arrow, you wouldn't be standing here just outside your house, crying your heart out for someone who couldn't find it in himself to love you back the way you loved him, but what made him hate himself even more was when not an ounce of regret seeped through his veins when he did, because truthfully, he was thankful he did shoot that arrow, because if it weren't for it, he wouldn't have been holding the best thing that ever happened to him in the isolated years he had spent alone.

It was then it that moment that his eyes met with Jeon Jungkook's own, his feet frozen mid-step in the snow-filled pathway towards you, phone gripped tightly in his hands as he stared at you.

It was also in that moment that Jimin swore to himself that he had to throw all his selfishness away and do whatever he could to fix you and the mess he made—all before he could make sense of the stirring sleeping feelings deep within his own heart as he held you tight against him, vulnerable and all.

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hawkeyedflame · 8 years ago

Note

I already forgot what I sent you before. But you can also write about a young!royai first kiss.

First Awakening

Words: 1,765Rating: K+A/N: I know this was a long time coming and I apologize! I had a busy few days and I wanted to give this the attention I feel it deserved. Sorry for the delay! FF/AO3

“Ow!” Roy jerked his hand away from the snapping crayfish so violently that he elbowed Riza in the ribs. She yelped in surprise as she lost her footing, slipped off her rock, and fell into the river. The water was cold, an unpleasant contrast to the scorching summer day. Riza felt her skin break open where she landed on her palms and knees against the coarse stones; the deep, frigid water sloshed against her stomach, and her mouth filled with the taste of muddy river.

“Roy,” she cried out in annoyance, “watch your elbows, you idiot!” Roy was already reaching for her arm to help her up, but she smacked his hand away irritably. “I don’t need your help,” she spat as she climbed out of the water, already wringing her dress in quick, irritated twists of the fabric. Her scraped palms protested the action but she didn’t care.

Roy backed off nervously, dragging his fingers through his charcoal hair. “I’m really sorry, Riza! I didn’t mean to, and now your dress is all—” He stopped abruptly, his face suddenly going scarlet.

Riza opened her mouth to ask what the matter was when he pointedly averted his gaze, his ears burning. She looked down at her dress and uttered a rather unladylike curse. The pale fabric, in its soaked state, was almost completely sheer. She wrapped her arms around herself and sat in the grass, humiliated tears beginning to prick her eyes. He saw. He saw and I can’t even hide from him until we can get home.

Without turning to her, Roy asked nervously, “How are we going to get back?”

“I don’t know. I guess we can go around the outside of town,” she said, knowing full well that it was a bad suggestion. The hot flush in her chest burned away. It’s just Roy, there’s no reason to be so upset. It’s just Roy. You’ve known him for years now. Calm down.

Roy scoffed. “That would take ages. Why don’t you just wear my shirt?”

Now it was Riza’s turn to scoff. “Do you really want to walk through town bare chested while I wear your shirt? We’d get even weirder looks than we already do, and plus I don’t want anyone from school to see.” She rubbed nervously at her sore knees. “I just don’t want to draw any more attention to myself,” she muttered.

Roy sighed, defeated, and sat down a few feet to her right, his eyes still canted away. “I guess we don’t have a choice then. Let’s just sit here in the sun until you’re dry.”

Riza sighed too, though it came out more like a growl. “I guess.” He’s not going to say anything? Of course he’s not, she berated herself, it’s Roy. He’s a proper gentleman. Father wouldn’t be teaching him if he weren’t.

“I can tell you about how the nitrogen cycle works if you want,” he was saying. “It’ll help pass the time.”

Riza rolled her eyes at the back of his head and shivered as a breeze swept through the clearing. “Honestly Roy, do you think of anything other than your alchemy training?”

“Of course I do,” he protested, turning to her indignantly before remembering himself and snapping his head back towards the river. “I just really like science,” he mumbled.

Riza laughed despite herself, the heat in her cheeks finally dissipating. “Okay Mr. Mustang. Tell me about the nitrogen cycle.”

“Hey Riza! Let’s get some ice cream.” They were walking down the main road in town, just passing the market where Riza ordinarily bought flour and other necessities. Roy twirled his pocket watch through the air, having just checked the time. The chain swung taut and then, reaching the peak of its arc, crumpled as the heavy metal landed in his palm. He smiled sunnily at Riza, looking perfectly innocent, and she forgot for a moment that he was actually older than her by several years.

“We don’t have time for that,” she chided, though it was more to give him a hassle than out of any real objection. Ice cream did sound nice, and in spite of her desire to lock herself in her room and mourn her wounded dignity, Riza was tempted.

Roy smirked and held up his watch. “Don’t give me that. We have plenty of time. There was leftover soup from yesterday, remember? No need to start a meal from scratch tonight. Let’s get ice cream.” When she looked unmoved, he added, “Consider it an apology for soaking you earlier.” He had that mischievous glint in his obsidian eyes, the one that told Riza she wasn’t about to win. Still, she wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“Father wouldn’t like it if we went and had dessert before dinner. I’m sure he’d scold us.”

Roy tilted his head back and laughed, his teeth flashing. “Aw come on, live a little,” he teased. “Life’s more fun when you eat dessert first. And besides,” he continued, leaning in conspiratorially, “we’re not going to tell Master Hawkeye.” He grinned again, unfazed by her obstinance. “Sometimes you’re far too proper, you know that?” He reached out and ruffled Riza’s hair, sending the blonde strands askew.

“Roy,” she protested, ducking out of his reach and pawing at her rumpled hair. “I don’t have the money to be buying sweets,” she snapped. “We barely have enough for groceries anyways. You know that.” Riza felt an uncomfortable clenching somewhere in her gut at the admission. But Roy just smiled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it. Aunt Chris sent me some extra money this month. She told me to use it for something special. So let’s get ice cream, okay?”

She was out of excuses. With an exaggerated huff, Riza relented. “Fine,” she said, “but then you have to help me weed the garden after dinner.”

“Sounds like a deal to me,” Roy exclaimed, grabbing Riza’s wrist and all but dragging her towards the café on the corner.

Did he say…something special?

Her skin suddenly burned where Roy’s fingers touched it.

While Riza rummaged in the cabinets for a soup pot, Roy disappeared into the depths of the house. Upon finding a suitable pot, she poured out the leftover chicken soup and set the stove to a medium flame before filling the teakettle. With the soup heating, Riza went to wash some dishes left over from her earlier lunch; Roy had been so excited about going for a walk that she’d forgotten to clean up. She hoped quietly that her father had not visited the kitchen today, or she’d surely be scolded for the mess.

As she ran a plate under the water, her hand stung violently and she dropped the dish, hissing through her teeth. She turned her palm up and inspected the broken skin from her crash landing in the river. The heel of her hand was slightly bloody and bruised. She ran her finger over the injury lightly, testing its tenderness. Roy’s voice from the doorway startled her.

“I brought some stuff for your scrapes,” he called out. She turned to him as he placed antiseptic and adhesive bandages on the kitchen table, and he smiled apologetically. “I’m really sorry for getting you hurt. Would you let me help you?”

Riza contemplated him for a moment, heat beginning to rise in her cheeks. “Thank you for bringing that down for me, but I think I can handle it on my own. Besides, you already bought me ice cream,” she replied, avoiding his gaze by checking the soup. She stirred it slowly, knowing full well it didn’t need stirring.

Suddenly he was leaning on the counter next to her, a crease in his forehead as he frowned. “Of course you can handle it on your own. But I’m the reason you got hurt, so you shouldn’t be the one taking care of it. The ice cream was for getting you soaked; this is for getting you hurt. Equivalent exchange, right?”

Riza rolled her eyes and smacked him with the spoon. “You’re such a nuisance! Can’t you think of anything but alchemy?” But even as she said it, she started laughing, and Roy smiled because he knew he’d won.

And so Riza set the spoon aside and sat at the kitchen table, letting Roy patch up first her knees, and then her hands. She inhaled sharply as the antiseptic stung, and Roy murmured an apology each time. When he finished, he lifted her right hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the bandage.

What is this? Could he…? Riza’s heart stumbled.

As suddenly as his lips were there, they were gone; his fingers left her wrist and he was standing up to check the soup and Riza couldn’t quite process what had just transpired. Her face felt hot and her stomach even more so. She gaped at his back as he reached into the cabinet for bowls and mugs to serve the soup and tea.

She hadn’t quite schooled her expression by the time he turned back around, and he caught sight of the blush that had crept across her cheeks. She dodged his gaze, but out of the corner of her eye she saw the smallest flash of a smile cross his features. He slid her bowl and mug across the table, retrieved his own food, and sat down. When Riza dared a glance at him, he was looking into his soup, a light dusting of color on his pale face.

They ate wordlessly, the scraping of spoons the only sound, until, haltingly, Roy spoke up. “Sorry about that. My, um…my sisters always used to do that when I got hurt. I didn’t really think…” He trailed off, his face still tinged red.

Riza shifted in her chair. “It’s alright, my mother used to do it too.” She studied the grain of the table for a moment, a fuzzy memory of cool hands and warm brown eyes welling to the surface her mind.

When she looked back up, relief had flooded Roy’s features, and he gave her a warm smile. “You should tell me about her someday,” he said.

Riza returned his smile, a poignant cocktail of sadness and affection stirring her gut. “Maybe someday,” she hedged. “But for now,” she continued, dropping her spoon into her empty bowl with a clatter, “the garden needs weeding.”

“Of course,” he agreed, standing to gather the dishes. He gave them a quick wash and dry before turning back to her, wearing a grin that lit up his dark eyes. “Let’s get to it.”

#fma #fmab #royai #young!royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #my writing #haganenobeato #fma fanfiction #royai fanfiction #*awkwardly edits in the italics that got lost in the copy-paste*#otp: even into hell

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fiverreed-blog · 8 years ago

Text

In the room the walls were white and simple and the windows were open and a soft wind stuck the lace curtains to the sash stops. There was no television or screen of any kind, but there was a bible, facedown on the wheeled table, black and pink-worded and mute in the tensionless atmosphere. To the right, jutting into the door, one nautically-colored chair was empty. Everything seemed to somehow speak a little, saying you must really suffer now. He sat cross-legged and hunched with his knees gowned in the bedsheets. Through the window, gleaming persons quivered across the morning parking lot. Just off it was a small weird courtyard where Julien paced in agitation around a gazebo. She sighed shakily for a space of several seconds, stooped agaisnt the pearl paint, and inspected her wrists and the backs of her hands, trying to be present. She started sobbing and gazed up. Initially in her life all this would have made no sense. How was she supposed to handle all of it? She wanted to see her mom and her dad. A robin trotted through the heat, issuing now and then a note of hateless song. She lifted her chin from her forearm and gazed at it. When it fluttered, she blinked. It hopped out of sight. She let her eyes fall away. She walked through the corridors and stood in Fiver’s doorway, and went and sat at the edge of the bed to be with him. She backed up her elbows into the mattress and looked around. He said, I want to die. I don't yet. Man! He hollered, and they watched one another’s faces. Aah! He pulled at his ducked brow confusedly and slapped the mattress. Man! An entering nurse said looking for you, and sat next to Julien. I told myself she’s not in her room, she’s probably down the hall. They didn't admit me, so I don't have a room. Well, that explains it. My arm? She meant, were they replacing the vein now? Yes, that’s what we’re doing. I don’t want aenesthetics. Okay. How long will it take? She stood up. I’ll be back, she told Fiver. We can do it right here, if you like. She sighed. Okay. She sat back down, looked down, and looked at the wall behind the nurse’s head. The nurse displayed the foldy white tube she was going to secure inside her arm. She pronounced its uses, her face sprinkled by windowlight and fan air. ...So it won’t be black anymore, it will lose that charred bruise, hopefully, usually it goes that way. And you’ll be happy to know that the new ones don’t pop out. Is that humor? Julien held it between pinched fingers to her one open eye trying to look through it. You can’t sight along it, she told everybody. Well, its not a telescope. In front of her parents’ home, kids dropped from bay laurel boughs to the sidewalks. Ouch! Aaghh! Her wide mouth kept springing open under her clenched eyes. She kept flickering her head up sideways, trying to cling her mind to this moment, this moment, this moment. The nurse, who was named Jennifer Thomas, said, think of it like, this strange lady is giving me a haircut. When it was over she slumped in the chair dead-faced, curling her arm away so as not to undo the gauze. Fiver was asleep. He wasn’t. When does it ever end? Ever? I think it just did. I hope. No, don’t do that, at least not yet. She began to be in rivalry with the pain starting up in her mind. That night she was up and thought about walking home but she didn’t feel like it and was too sick, and anyway, the time was now. The press of darkness on her head was a delicate thing; if she moved too quickly, or at all, her mind was set spinning painfully, like she’d been made into the shore, and the tide was in. Too much of this inrush from the outside and she’d succomb, she’d be flipped apart and halved over and over until there was nothing left to make it back to. She prayed spirally Christian prayers frantically. She made it out to the nurses station. The night technician had a face that shattered into millions of tremulous flowers. This wouldn't be on my chart, she said, because I don't have one, but I'm withdrawing from benzodiazepines. Honey! You have to tell us these things! The nurse’s face was a golden argonaut’s now, with steel barnacles for the fastening in of cables by pliar. The light sprinted away from her face and into the splintering, draining air. I should have told you, she said. In her head she asked these words as a question. She thought the nurse said you can’t break the ties that bye yai yind. Oh my goodness! She called, rotating into the flourescent air. To lie on the floor was to damage the surface of the planet. She knew this, but she couldnt remember that she knew it, because her memory had broken. She could feel it trying to return, but even if it could, she wasn’t supposed to let it, because that was wrong. Next to her face someone’s scrubs made noise against their socks. The feel of her cheeks on the tile was excruciating. She flashed on a statue of a satyr in the feeding waters of a fountain. Think I’ll stop hanging out with Sean for a while, Jamie said to Alison in Blackwells one afternoon. His fake gruffness is getting on my nerves. Yup, said Alison. Its annoying. She glanced past Jamie’s face to see who was coming through the door. Brock, she said. Its Brock. You waiting for someone? Nah. Its just some feeling I��m having. Feeling. Why else would we be down here drankin’ but to rid ourselves of those? Drankin’... Alison admired the screen above the bar, blinking placidly, inquiring after the source of her current peaceful feelings. She sat her chin on the flipped rim of her wrist and watched Jamie with gentleness. I’m waiting on art to arrive, Jamie said, cause I feel it coming. Yeah...nobody around here cares... She couldnt ever predict what she herself would say or do, so that when the time came, she could explode in the face of things properly. A baptist walked by, got caught in her gaze, dodged out of it, frowned out of the wish to correct, and glanced on by, in some stream she didn’t care to understand. Jamie? Yes. Uhh... fuck believers. So sorry to hear that. I’m sure. Hey guy! Fuck your community! Jamie reeled her back by going at her sleeve like she was jiggering charcoal lines. Listen up: need ya to accompany me whilst I buy some drugs. Oh please. Please? Don’t fucking beg me. Well then I’m saying I’m telling you youre coming. What’s in it for me? Such piss, she said to her beer. Such a lot of piss. The company. I’m in your company right now. It would be a learning experience as well. You should grow up. Okay then, do it to spite local Christians. Uh close, but...scale it up. My friend, it wouod be a global action. ..and be like whose repurcussions are inevitably percussive. Thank you, she said with actual primness. Obliged. Oh, Jamie flicked her shot glass. That makes me so happy. She hugged Alison tightly around the shoulders. I don't wanna let go. Jamie said, you drive cause you've had less. Where’m I taking us? First to the projects, then to the country. In this way we can avoid the rich places entirely. Not buying pills from my parents’ neighbors’ kids, sweet. I heard about cha, Jamie laughed. Taking your mom’s oxys and passing out. Yeah. I was in actual pain, though. She said: look at how I’m driving. This is the definition of creeping. Jamie laughed. Less creep, more roll! You gotta roll through like you have a destination, a purpose. Have you hung out with Fiver lately? Not of late cause he dissapears. Wonder how he is. My feeling is he and Julien are disappearing into one another’s arms and lives. Good for them. She freaks me out, but then again so’s Fiver. She’s cool. Yeah, but she doesn’t hang out. She’s busy. Cause she does shit. She’s too good to creep through and buy shit in duplicate, crack for her dad and lortabs for herself, even though she wants to find a way to the other side of this shit and be at rest as a big bad good person. Yeah, said Alison. Here we are. Jamie asked her to park and stepped out and bought pills in the blink of an eye. Don’t ask me to do this shit again. Alright, I won’t. It freaks me out. I didn’t want to be alone. Yeah, said Alison. Nobody does. You can be a jerk sometimes. Sorry, Jamie. Want to come over! Sure. Take pills and make stuff with paint. Jamie was dropping her hands in a water basin to get the high sandy flecks off her fingers. Its hard to think about staying in this town. To really consider it. She flicked drops in Alison’s face gently. Flincher. I guess the problem is I don’t know what it looks like. I can’t envision it. Staying. I dunno, said Alison. Like ten years? What’s that look like? Let’s go to the prairielands. Find the prairielands. Do those even still exist? I don’t know. Want me to google it and find out? ...I’m discovering that yes, the grasslands do, in fact, to some extent, yeah, still exist, but we’d have to go to like Omaha, which is probably just a collection of toilet houses, so...fuck that... ...but then I can’t see leaving yet, either. Likewise. Omaha seems like a giant hospital. Oh, its so sad, the feeling that there’s nothing at all in the world. There’s nothing, said Alison. I don’t know though. Yeah there probably is. How does one deal with it? You deal with it. Jamie trapped a print in clothespins and said, Too firm a perspective. You could stay. Open a bar. Make money, she sighed. Lack love. Although I don’t really feel that way. Wait, what are you talking about? Friend, I’m saying anyway you can die, I can die better. Huh? Alison! She laughed. Stop paying attention to me as if I’m saying anything truly important. You perplex me. Good. No, you worry me. I want to get a dalmation so I can strip the spots off thus I’d have mats for the patio. God. Pat ee yo. This one’s called gazebos for zebras, but its not about that, its about the permanent midnight of space. I don’t care for it. Its true meaning is I can side with sociopaths as well as anyone else. Think I’m gonna get out of here. Nooo! Its fine by me. We’ll hang out when you’re the slightest but sober. O K. At home out of tiredness she failed to say hi to her father, failed to feel close with her mother, went up the stairs. In her upstairs room with the window open the the breezy silence made the hour seem sad. There wasn’t hollowness though, and she felt lucky to not be Jamie, to not have all sorts of useless miseries echo past her heart like zipping birds, and laugh, and misunderstand. The wind stirred the alder boughs and brought them close enough to graze the sill. Ali! She didn’t hear the call until it came again: Ali come down! She groaned. No I refuse. She rolled her chair over to the sill. Shhh. You’ll wake the people. Oh man the people She lay her forehead against the dig-in of her palm. Its late and I’m lazy. Yeah, except time doesn’t really exist. Cept it does. A black dog came lapping along his heels. He recoiled but it still got tangled in his legs. She laughed good-naturedly. He fell down onto his palms and bounced back up to step around wobbily. Do you have any composure up there? Tons. Toss some down. Nope. I’m wide awake. Come on. Lets go play in the streets. You’re a doofus. Pretty please? Pretty please? Yeah definitely. I stand by it. She laughed. Tiredly she knocked her temple around along her wristline. Beneath blue dye her red hair was down and stray along the hairline. I don’t know. I’m really tired. Her phone dinged and lit softly. Text from Jamie. It said Every five or six months we select five or six of them and rip half their faces off. Man! She rubbed her eyes. What’s going on with Jamie? What do you mean? Acting crazy. Like how? Like crazy. Like saying shit that’s weird and not knowing she’s say ng it sometimes and then other times embracing the heck out of it. Is she on drugs? Uh yeah. I don't know. Am I waking your parents? No, your voice is soft, but I may be. How’d you get over here if your car’s all wrecked? I walked. Then I’m walking -- he flipped his arms into a railroad crossing configuration -- right back the other way, so I’ll probably get to Julien’s when she’s ready to wake up. How’s that going? Really well, I think. We’re past those zags where we stop knowing one another. Those. She’s life-guarding this summer. Life-guarding?!? But she’s such a tiny one. You’re dumb. That just means she can save people by surprise. I’m not dumb. Good on her. I’m proud. Quit drinking! You did? I think. Making me proud now. It was still. She squinted at the crisp ring spaced broadly round the moon. In not too long a time cloudsbank would move across and the competing eerie pales would tease one another apart. Its a hushy kind of peace, she said. With the boughs grazing me. Anyway well, if you’re not coming down, I’m gonna walk off across town. See ya! See ya Ali! He tossed a few crumpled fingers in the air. That doesn’t make a wave, you spaz. Its also a fist, he said. So its a whole mix. He walked confidently until he started to slip into lifelessness. He sped up, recoiling from the look of streetlamps. Spiders scattered up the drive and under pails and the faces of gargoyles were unblemished forever. Not going over there. Aw. Come on. Nuh-uh. Alison, if you go over there with me-- You’ll WHAT, and there was no answer. She woke from this dream exhausted, put on her dizzy shit, went and sat on the stoop and drank a bunch of coffee. A robin curlicued up the land. Okay clearly she had not been cut out for this shit where they head into project housing and come out with a gun, amd last night only served to prove that. James Orange's dream--What had it been, what had it been--oh yeah where the guy with a round sun for a held held up two more suns at arms length. He'd been equidistant between Venus and some other thing, and the suns had been the pearls. The fog blew off the front of her brain. Her coffee cup was empty. She rose and stretched her arms and spotted where someone had left trash on the walks and pursed her face and frowned and blinked and blinked again and said oh well, went through the screen door to the lobby without being careful for its closing, her arms sapped of energy, her hips postureless, her steps inattentive to the smooth physical shape of the corridor. She got in her apartment and told her fish, so tired, you’re in your fish-tank and I’m TIRED. She sat in the chair with her arms on the armrests and lay back her head and dropped her mouth open ostentatiously. Some dude texted her at like ten in the morning. She called him back and said NO. Do not fucking TEXT ME. Hung up the phone and said Jesus!, startling the parrot. Whole lotta bullshit, mynah bird. She felt shame. She called Fiver. Stop communicating with my dreams. He was slow and groggy. What? He asked. Where were you wanting to go? What! What are you talking about! He rolled off the couch and peeked past the sill at the weather. What are you doing today? Ohhh....gon skate. Well shit. You should have just said so at the foremost. There’s nothing left to do but skate after the holocaust. She said, You’re dumb. He hung up the phone and hissed joyfully at the cats and went and perched in the window with a book. In the elementary school parking lot six of them bounded out from all four doors of the corrolla and skated around, preparing to rip creation asunder. Alison sat observantly on a stair, a crumpled cap tilted on her head. Jamie washed out of the alley and leaned on her board, watching the fray from in front of the sunlight. Alison cried, What’s up Jamie! Come over here! Lady hiya, I cannot! I must show them how its done. Ali winced at the grounded-out noise. Noon’s gay, Jamie! Its big and gay! A big, gay bird! And, I’m partly gay meself, so...no offense! I know! Thank you for reaffirming this knowledge! She bared her teeth at Fiver. Fiver, lemme take you in my jaw like a pup I’m gonna eat. We’ll whip one another around like crazy spaceships, even if it doesn’t work like that physically. What the FUCK are you talking about, careening Nathan inquired. Nathan, you’re such a complainer! cried Jamie. Nathan’s a short bitch! Ali hollered. But look at that hair! How it waves! Ali, you’re the goddamn golden child! I knew it! She bowed her face and threw her fists up. What the FUCK, Nathan said. STOP. JESUS. Just bein’ thankful, said jamie. We’re asleep until we love. In Blackwells Fiver said to Jamie, Jamie, will you help me work a spell on these river southerners? What sort of spell? I don’t know, I can’t think well enough to strategize. Ah yeah, that. Such a problem! Such a problem, Sean. Ahh? Its that you don’t listen to me when I speak. Fuck you sometimes. Fiver’s turned away. Let’s be ever so dextrous and steal a water vessel. Fiver, you can’t come if you hate us, but if you love us you may come. Y’all are the only ones of your kind I like, Sean said. I don’t understand. You’re on drugs. You’re drug people. And stupid, it occurs to me. Don’t you understand, Sean? We’re going to steal us a boat. Stupid without being stuoid. I knooow. I Know so very much, Dear Sean. You...keep people away...by assigning them names, to blank them out. He slouched his neck back and popped the top button of his collar open. Well, I’ll come, even if I don’t care or give a fuck. Fiver, save some of that cash, like don’t tip, so’s you can fling it fearfully at the homeless you’re too scared to save. Wanna ding dong ditch my drunk dad and in quick succession fuck all my friends AND enemies and I wish you’d turn your heart around before its too late. You know it sucks when the option has become, friend, I used to love being in your presence, like that was love and truth and home, but now I have to settle for seeing you in the afterlife. Leave behind the labor of performing fictional experiments on yourself, come, we’ll set up a hearth forever and you can rest your bones in my bones before we’re even old. I’m saying, wash my feet, caress the exhaustion from them, polish my old toes new by handing the bathed tiredness out of them, give it all up like innards to the held hands of the marvelous cosmos. I think I’m the rain. A seated cat glimmered blackly like an ancient jar. A pinch crazy, a mite ooooh, a bit alien, and quite drunk and high. Be happy for your job, pal. To the best of your ability be worshipful of Sophia in the lobby of the ol backwoods. To the northwest a ways, across the mississip, the people are normal, and sane, and ya could have gone there, but noo noo you gotta exhibit the disease of alcoholism as the second half of the opera of masking yourself to your own avoidance, shitperson. Light little aspirer. My beloved. I’m just saying, you shouldn’t have marched into the sea without me. Here have this fucking pen. To do this shit is somehow who you are so whether you like it or not, you’ve just got to. Channel me. I bridge France and England, or perhaps shall. Charlie, come home. Oh, he will one day, singing fucking angrily, calling out the world’s evil. Siphon, finish that shit up and let’s go take a tumble through the streets. And flame out? No, galoot. You mean flame out. You’d have to imprison me before I’d claim that. Alison said, my solidly alternative spirit means I haven’t withered in despair over y’all yet, and Fiver, Jamie meant excursion. Not even once? Not even one fucking time. That’s cool. A spirit of solid health. I’m transcribed like that. What, I really am. Dude, don’t have faith or look now but I really believe your life could re-bloom at any instant. They’re carving my name into trees all across the county, Ali. Country men. We’d best find the culprits. Sounds like a lame-ass quest. A baby skull, our names mysteriously carved into the heart of stuff like beribboned mustachios, to steal the means of transport after severing the ferryman’s hands, and at last mayhaps to need to murder some people although we desire it not. Yet what nobody can tell me is if that makes for a just evening and a well-spent youth. No, put your money away, we came here to play not pay. Shut up. Not doing ANY of that. Why the hell would one of us have a baby skull? What happened to the old plan of getting old and dying? Ah man its just a bunch of Christ and taxation. She looked around the bar. This is bullshit with fucking darkness in it. She felt the bartop. Structurally sound, though, for a gel of swirling particles. ACK. The deathly preparation. Take me out hard, Voldemort Radagast Marshall. Charlie Jewell’s fucking ghost-angel appeared, bent and attired in rags with holes up the back showing knots of spine, fully blonde, smiling, proudly embarrassed, waiting for someone to make him laugh or offer somethung awful to agree about. Jamie freaked out and chortled and danced her hands involuntarily in front of her until the world was dizzy; Alison made an O mouth as a joke and said What’s up Charles. Jamie was able to still her hands. She yelped. Alison said Quit yer burbling. Not Much. You’re all part of one thing, though. But yeah, just thought I’d drop by. Its certainly fucked up to see you. Yeah. Can you drink liquor? Fuck yeah, I’m a funnel into heaven. A funnel into heaven, dontcha know. He pointed a finger at Fiver. Its your fault I’m dead, but you can’t really tell if I mean that or if its in your own head. He cast his head back on his neck and laughed gahgahgah, his adam’s apple like a pedal. Ah yeah.

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