#just saying they won’t be there and that’s just the show building up false expectations

[harmandmac]

Psst, you hearing any teasers of who might be in the 1000th episode as a 'surprise'? Everyone seems so sure of who it might be. Just wondering if you're about to say that we 100% should watch the episode

If you are asking if anyone from our ship is gonna be there… nope

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Killing Time: Prologue

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“Yes, he’s here again,” your voice creaks as your hand shakes. “Please. I called yesterday…” And every other day for months. Almost a full year.

You peer out between the small space that divides curtain from window. The shadow looms, looking up at you. Your phone vibrates as the operator hems and haws on the other end.

“Are you sure it’s him?” She asks. They always doubt you. Report after report, phone call after phone call, and it’s always question, question, question. You sigh.

“Yes,” your voice peeks as you pull back and hide against the wall. “Yes, I know it’s him. He’s texting me.”

You don’t even need to check. It’s the same thing every time. Next, he’ll try to sneak in the front and be knocking at your apartment door.

“Well, ma’am, you say you’ve called before and we’ve sent a cruiser and we’ve filed reports. And this man keeps showing up, so what exactly do you want me to do now? I can’t issue you a safety order over the phone--”

“Excuse me?” You gasp. “Excuse me? Are you serious? I have an order already and much good it does me. I call you and I get accused of being dramatic and questioned. What I want is for someone to protect me.”

“Ma’am, don’t get abusive with me,” she warns. “Have you tried telling him to go away yourself?”

“Wow, wow,” you throw your hand out. “Really? Really? No, I never thought of it,” you say sarcastically, “is there someone else who can take me call? I really don’t feel safe.”

“If it makes you feel better, I can reroute an officer to you. Alright?” She speaks as if you’re a child. You’re too weak to argue anymore.

“Whatever,” you hang up.

You can’t do this anymore. You need to get out of here. Not that you didn’t think of it before but you can’t afford anything else. Your rent control is the only thing keeping you under a roof. You’ve already switched jobs, just to get away from him. There isn’t that much else up there.

You drag yourself through the shadows and sit on the bed. You exist in darkness. You don’t turn on the lights so he can’t see in. You keep the curtains shut. You only leave for work and always take a different exit, never the same route; not always the bus, not always the train.

And friends? What are those? Most of them took his side, said you were throwing around false accusations, and the others accused you of being obsessed. The single coworker you confided in told you to leave town. Wow, well, if you could afford that, you wouldn’t stay in this building with the grinding radiator and rattling fridge.

You look at your phone.

‘I see you.’ The message was sent while you were on the call with emergency services. Several more followed. ‘I just want to talk’; ‘you look so pretty’; ‘please, I love you’.

As you read each text, you can hear the last conversation you had with Jake. He’s a relic of your former friend group, the very reason for your dejection. It’s almost funny how the rest just cut ties but he won’t let go.

It all started with a kiss. A kiss and rejection. New Years Eve and the clock counted down. You didn’t expect him to turn and plant one on you and when you shoved him away, that dreamy look in his eyes turned to fury as you fled. New Year, New you, right?

The new you is scared and paranoid and tired. So, so tired.

You get up and move the chair in front of the door. Just in case. You retreat, keeping your phone close, and grab the extendable baton from the table. You sleep with both, if you can sleep. That night, you won’t.

You settle in on the couch. You don’t use the bedroom. You need an easy escape. You sit back against the cushions and scroll on your phone. It might be hopeless, but you trawl the job board and the apartment boards. You might find a nugget of gold in all the pebbles.

You sign into the job site and see the red dot in the corner. It’s always a marketing promo. ‘Recommending’ a job you don’t qualify for or an invitation for an MLM scheme. It’s a joke. You don’t understand how anyone ever gets a job but everyone seems to have a better one than you.

You tap the inbox to make the red dot go away. You hate it floating in the corner of your vision. Your thumb twitches and hovers over the screen as you read the subject line. Hm.

‘Caretaker Position: Relocation Required’.

Well, you don’t really have the experience for caretaking but the second part sounds intriguing. You hesitate. It’s too good to be true. You’re sure there will be a list of qualifications longer than your resume.

Tap.

You open up the message.

‘Hello,

We’ve reviewed your profile and determined you might be a match for this position.

New Applicants Welcome.

We are seeking an individual to undertake caretaking duties for a property. This role would include the following:

Lawn care

General cleaning and maintenance

Manual labour requiring lifting of up to 60lbs

24/7 tenancy within property (no rent for chosen candidate)

Subsidized relocation

Training on-site

If you are seeking a fresh start and to learn new skills which can take you into future roles in a custodial or caretaking capacity, this is the job for you. To apply, please submit brief profile and resume for consideration.

Applicants are subject to a background check.’

You bite down on the inside of your lip. It sounds interesting but you’re not sure you’re a good fit. It’s so general, too. Would you need to know how to deal with electrical issues? Your apartment sure has taught you a lot about dealing with broken utilities, but your formal training is lacking.

And it’s a big thing. You want to get out of here but it’s still daunting in comparison to your current predicament.

You tense as you hear footsteps in the hall. You brace yourself and lower the phone, staring at the door. The thumping on the other side makes you flinch. Your heart races.

“Baby, I know you’re awake. Please. I just wanna talk.” He keeps tapping. “If you just talked to me, we could figure this out.”

You shudder and look at your phone again. You stare at the big blue button; ‘Apply Now’.

“I forgive you. For lying about me. Everyone knows you were just upset. I’ll tell them all it was just a misunderstanding…” he begs as the door shakes in the frame, the chair knocking against the handle. All that stands between you and him are those hinges and that flimsy piece of furniture.

You press down on the button. It can’t get worse than this.

[connoisseursdecomfort]

Information, Understanding and Empathy: A Character Study on Franky, Yuri and Nightfall (Part 1 maybe)

It’s me overthinking again~

It is probably safe to say that these three are the most obsessive characters in the sxf universe. They are all obsessive with the notion of love in very different ways. Yuri wants to be the most important one in Yor’s life. Nightfall wants to marry Twilight. And Franky wants to get laid find a partner.

In a sense they all “know” a lot about their “targets”. Yuri is Yor’s brother. They grow up together. Nightfall is trained by Twilight and probably knows best about his spy self. Franky is a stalker digs out every single piece of information he could find about his love interest(s). And they are certainly good at digging out information - Franky is an informant, Yuri is a secret police and Nightfall is a spy. This is what they do. But somehow they seemingly fail to connect to the ones they love. Having the information itself doesn’t automatically translate to having an understanding of it. Knowing someone doesn’t mean that you connect with them.

In many ways, Franky is like Nightfall - while Nightfall is obsessed with one (1) person, Franky is obsessed with many. They both went to great lengths, trying to get as much info as possible, and they did end up knowing a lot about their taget(s). I feel like this has been stated a lot only about Nightfall, but it also applies to Franky - even if they know that many facts about their target(s), they just don’t seem to connect. Nightfall knows how Twilight operates. She knows the aliases and fake identities he used. She knows (well, knew) his preferences for coffee. And somehow she still can’t really understand him.

Franky, on the other hand, never even gets to really talk to the girl(s) he likes.

The most obvious reason, which happens to be the biggest theme of the story, is that people have a hidden side that they won’t show to other people, even to the ones closest to them. 

Whereever there is information there is misinformation. Where there are interpretations there are misinterpretations.

Nightfall is in love with the facade of Twilight - she thinks she knows him well, but the fact is Twilight is so entangled in his own lies he is actually still gradually rediscovering himself.

More importantly, they already have had something in mind before even confirming if the info they have in hand is true. As opposed to Twilight’s approach to dealing with his targets:

Their preconceptions, or expectations, have prevented them from getting a more accurate read on both the persons and the info. At the end, Nightfall, so eager to please Twilight and make him see that she is a better fit as his wife, couldn’t even tell that he’s annoyed at some of her decisions. Franky is so in love with the idea of love itself, his hope that someone will date him overweighs his actual need of connecting with someone. Or maybe this is just his internal conflict in which he refrains from building real connections due to his job but couldn’t resist his urge to just be with someone. It does seem that it doesn’t matter who he is with, and he doesn’t have problems moving on to another one.

And that is weirdly telling about their jobs. Gathering intelligence does give nations and countries a sense of security. But that really doesn’t mean relations can be established out of that. Imagine if the girls Franky is after know about the things he has on them. Sometimes it’s not even about diplomacy. And sometimes it is this false sense of security that makes the heads of states think that a real connection between the countries doesn’t matter as much.

But it still takes more than the information they have to understand and connect with others. And this is where Yuri comes in. Yuri’s situation is very different from Nightfall and Franky, because A. it’s not romantic; and B. it’s not one-sided. Yuri, unlike Nightfall and Franky, was the only one who truly understood and connected with Yor. When the story started, Yuri has moved out as he’s got a job, but he is still mentally stuck in the past. On the other hand, Yor understands it’s time to move on. This is where the disconnection starts.

While the main focus of Spy x Family has always been on a fake family, and how it gradually becomes more real over time, to contrast with the Forgers, there are also these real but dysfunctional families. I’m not talking about the Desmonds who are detached from each other. I’m talking about the Briars here.

The Briars is the polar opposite of the Desmonds. Yor and Yuri love each other, despite all the secrets they keep from each other. However, as Yor moves further away from being a Briar and becomes more and more a Forger, we see Yuri holding onto his previous understanding of Yor.

And that is the trickiest part about family and friends isn’t it? No matter how much you love someone, and how much you understand them, it requires a lot of effort to renew the connection or understanding constantly.

(manga spoiler ahead)

Chapter 68 is really Yuri desperately holding onto the last bit of the Yor he once was so familiar with, and miserably fails. He wants to make food that she used to like, and tries to be the help she used to need, but Yor has moved on. It’s not that Yor is a totally different person now. She still likes apple-flavoured whistle candies, and she still loves her baby brother. It’s just that this is an upgraded Yor and Yuri needs to update the whole system in order to be compatible. Because even real family members who love each other very much don’t get automatically compatible. It takes effort to connect with others.

And that’s why I feel that Ep 24/ Chapter 35 is that important. Twilight was making his observations - basically collecting info and making plans - but if it’s one-sided, Endo wouldn’t make it work. It’s not like Twilight doesn’t know where Yor’s insecurities lie. It’s not that his observations are totally untrue. All the information he has on her doesn’t work unless he speaks to her. In order to truly communicate with Yor, he has to offer a piece of his true self and resonate with her. It is a precious moment because both make themselves vulnerable in order to communicate.

It's interesting because when you look at Yuri and Nightfall, they are relying on the false sense of security they get from their previous observations on Twilight and Yor. They try so hard to puff up to show that they are stronger and better, when this is not what Twilight and Yor even need.

(Might write a part 2 because I still believe that Endo gave Twilight, Yor and Anya different strengths, and you will have to combine their strengths in order to gain real understanding. But that’s it for now. Bye.)

[eirianerisdar]

F, K, M!

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I'm going to share one Silm-based one and one F1-based Brocedes one. This is going to get really long so I'll put it under a read more:

Excerpt 1: from chapter 30 of Icarus - Lewis and Nico's first proper meeting in years, after Lewis has grown out his wings again. Lewis thinks his newly-whole wings aren't up to the flight home and Nico has opinions about that.

Nico snaps to a halt, glares down at Lewis. “I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing,” he hisses. “You’re not some damsel in distress. You’re Lewis fucking Hamilton.” Lewis stares up at Nico’s furious face. This isn’t what he expected at all. “Lewis Hamilton doesn’t back down from a fight,” Nico snarls. “What the fuck happened to you? You always said you could do anything as long as you pushed hard enough. So get up. Push.” Lewis bristles. “Easy for you to say,” he spits. “You’ve had six years to learn the air patterns and train up your wings. Don’t pretend we’re on equal footing.” Nico’s face whitens. For a moment Lewis thinks Nico will punch him; but Nico only exhales and looks over his shoulder at the cliff edge. “It’s not as complicated than it looks,” he says abruptly. “It’s just that new building down where the road splits, and that paved road cutting through the trees there. It breaks up the current that used to flow down from–” “Thanks, Nico,” Lewis says sarcastically. “I’m sure that’ll be really helpful when I’m trying to navigate something I can’t see.” “Just–” Nico closes his eyes briefly. His voice softens. “Just stay on my wing,” he says quietly. “I’ll guide you down.” Lewis looks at the cliff edge. He swallows. Nico’s eyes are a clear, intense blue. “I won’t leave you,” he says. “I promise.” Like that fucking meant anything the last time you said it, Lewis thinks. Some of his thoughts must show on his face, because Nico’s eyes shutter. Lewis grits his teeth. He feels like an arse. He feels the wind run through his still-aching wings. “What if I fall?” Nico’s face hardens. He looks for a moment like he did when he met Lewis’s eyes across the garage as they got into their cars in Abu Dhabi 2016. It is a look that says try me, and I will prove you wrong. “Then I’ll fucking catch you,” he spits.

They're both yearning so much here but they've been fighting so long they fall back on old patterns of toxicity. But really what Nico is saying here is I'll believe in you even if you don't, because I've always believed in you, and Lewis is saying last time you promised me anything you left F1 and me behind. Nico's last line is ride-or-die I'm with you to the end of the line

Excerpt 2: From The Shadow of a Friend, when Celebrimbor and Elrond confront a captive Sauron in Valinor:

Annatar’s lips twist, his beautiful features flickering for an instant into a crumbling, decaying mask, and Celebrimbor has a sudden revelation. “No,” he murmurs, “You do not know me at all.” Annatar – Sauron’s teeth are bared in a snarl, now, but Celebrimbor looks at him and sees only the shadow of an old friend. “You do not know me,” Celebrimbor says, and stands straighter, shaking off Elrond’s hand on his shoulder. “And to say nothing of smith-work. You are a poor excuse for a smith, no matter how much I once taught you.” “Do you so insult your own skill?” Sauron laughs. “Why, I have succeeded in breaking you after all.” “No,” Celebrimbor says, meeting the false gold of Sauron’s gaze. “My youngest apprentice is a far greater smith than you. You only see beauty in the sharpness of a blade and the power of enchanted rings. You do not see the beauty in the pewter cup a mother brings to the lips of her child; you do not see the beauty in the brief glory of a summer flower, or the warmth of a fire, except to burn. You are broken, Mairon. I am not.” Sauron barks a laugh. “You are picking false silver from river-mud, old friend.” “Am I?” Celebrimbor leans closer, close enough that the hum of the enchantment that surrounds the cage rises to a ringing howl of warning. “Thou, craven filth, who was once the mightiest craftsman of Aulë’s people. Thou might have many more years than I, but I too was once welcome in Aulë’s house. Aulë’s smith-work was of beauty and of life. He thought not of the sharpness of a sword or the burning of a flame. Thou hast lost thy craft, Mairon. Even if thou knowest it not.” Sauron’s face twists in furious rage, and Celebrimbor knows he has struck the winning blow. “I have changed you!” Sauron’s scream ricochets about the walls as the throws himself against the bars of the cage; the runes glow white-hot, burning great chasms into the crumbling mask of Annatar. “I will haunt your waking dreams until Arda is unmade!” “No, you will not,” Celebrimbor says, and is surprised to find it is the truth. “I have passed through Námo’s Halls. I am healed. And though I believe it might require a little while, I cannot imagine thinking of you very often after another yení or two. You are but a single foul breath in the lifetime of the Eldar, and the westward wind is strong.”

^The whole first three chapters of the fic built up to this point. Celebrimbor realises he is loved and can love again, and that he is not defined by the terrible things that Annatar his once-friend did to him. He understands the hope of the Eldar in the West, and at last begins to heal.

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Honestly probably Chapters 18-21 of Icarus. Daniel has hidden his injuries and Max is dealing with his abusive father to the point where Max ends up abandoning Daniel at the worst possible time. Cue the whumpiest, angstiest, hurt-no-comfort section I've ever written. The comfort comes at the end of chapter 21. But still.

(Sorry Zanna I keep blathering on about F1)

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I've answered M here! (Still deep in the F1 brain, unfortunately there's not many other premises I'm thinking about in other fandoms currently except for my WIPs I need to finish)

Send me a fanfic ask!

[kpchrs]

warren is creepy though. he thinks snuff films are funny. he says to max's face that he's disappointed she won't have sex with him within 3 weeks of knowing him. he plays max and brooke off each other by lying about the tickets for the drive in. he knows how to build pipe bombs. he almost beat nathan to death because he was angry.

I was so surprised seeing this LOL I didn't know that that reached people because I thought my hashtags never worked. Not that I expected it to or that I'm great at writing them down either tho. (Turned out seeing the few likes, it did reach people lol). But, well, obviously I didn't go to law school, Anon, you haven't given me time to do it (heh, and also because obviously that's a joke).

I read this on the day you sent the ask to me btw (which was months ago), but it took me a long time to write this because I got distracted so BADLY. So, sorry for the wait... if you are waiting xD I won’t expect anyone, even you, Anon, to read this. I genuinely don’t give a shit if no one reads this, but I still want to try to argue back. My mindset throughout this eSsAy will be as open and fair as I can.

1. "he thinks snuff films are funny."

Okay, let's pull up the script.

Warren: Haha. Make sure you watch Cannibal Holocaust. Max: No fucking way will I watch that. My mind is twisted enough... Warren: I laughed my ass off. (Episode 1: Crystallis)

Okay, first off, Cannibal Holocaust is not a snuff. That’s false. It is a cult classic horror film. It’s one because it’s (one of?) the first of its kind. Also, while it IS controversial and violent and there ARE something inside that are SO BAD WHYDIDTHEYHAVETODOIT, the film actually has an interesting and legit message. I think it’s not weird if Warren, being a fan of disturbing films or obscure films in general, will be interested in watching the so-called “cult classics”.

So regarding why he laughs, a possibility is that he laughs to pretend/show off to Max that he is tough. I mean, he literally shows off his car in that scene, to impress her. Weird flex but okay, bro.

Another possibility which is more probable is it’s because Warren has a dark sense of humour. Max knows this the day she meets him for the first time, that “he’s dark”. You can read it from her diary.

I think he has a higher tolerance than the average person after getting desensitised watching too much horror, which is why he laughs. Because he sees the comedy somewhere. And I think I have an idea where it is. Hint: It’s connected to the message of the film.

The message is the irony of how fast the characters adapt to savagery and exploit the tribe and their culture for the media, which raises the question: “So which one is the savage one? The tribe who people think should have been the ‘uncivilised’ or the characters who should have been the ‘civilised’ ones?” That twist can be funny with a dark sense of humour. Or it can be as simple as how the climax is satisfying/amusing with the characters getting what they deserve after all they have done fucking with the tribe. Hell, if you want to be meta and look into the background story of the filming, you can laugh too at the hypocrisy between the message and the film’s status as an exploitation film.

2. "he says to max's face that he's disappointed she won't have sex with him within 3 weeks of knowing him."

Hmm, that got filtered by your interpretation so let's go back to the root again aka the script to be objective.

Max: So you're sensitive... Warren: Ouch... That sounds awful the way you say it. Max: How so? Warren: Sensitive usually means "won't be having sex with you." Max: Oh, gawd! You need a sensitive woman to kick your ass. (Episode 1: Crystallis)

I want to confess. I had to think hard about what this means, maybe because I didn’t get the reference, because I’m not a native, or just because it’s a bad dialogue. I mean, of course, it sounded bad but I didn’t know EXACTLY what it meant. It took me 6 months to get it… somewhat… From my understanding, he means that “sensitive/nice guys finish last”, no? So the concern is about Nice Guys™?

I won’t wave this off, Anon, it’s still a distasteful comment to say, I admit. But I believe it’s a bad joke made by Warren, an awkward kid, who tries to hit on the girl he got a crush on. The whole scene is about him trying to be smooth, but failing miserably because (1) as I said, he’s awkward, you are not smooth enough, bro; (2) that’s the wrong thing to say, bro; (3) Max is not interested in you, bro (unless you make her be, I guess).

Warren is cringey. I have facepalmed a lot of times listening to him or reading his texts to Max, but we are all cringey in our teenage years. I don’t want to elaborate on my cringey-ness but I want to at least tell you that I did have a Warren, Anon. I rejected him hard and harshly (which I regret but I was also a teenage kid). But he was ultimately a good kid and we are still close friends. He’s matured and thriving now and I have no doubt if Warren were real, he would mature and thrive too now.

3. "he plays max and brooke off each other by lying about the tickets for the drive in."

Okay, let’s search for those. 

Warren: BTW, the drive-in is actually popular so I'm buying the tix now. Warren: I'll have an extra one. In case you change your mind. [Wed; morning] (Warren’s text messages in Episode 3: The Chaos Theory if you decline the invitation.)

Warren does talk about two tickets but the drive-in charges per car, not per person (based on the poster). What’s the subtext of this dialogue? It’s saying that Warren still hopes that Max comes with him. Even deeper is Warren nudging Max to convince her subtly to go with him. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I don’t know why these inconsistencies happen, but inconsistencies are not uncommon in the game. So let’s rewrite the text message dialogues to remove the inconsistency, but keep the subtext.

Warren: BTW, the drive-in is actually popular so I'm buying the tix now. Warren: I’ll keep your spot open. In case you change your mind.

Nothing is different. The subtext is still the same. So if his narrative is to… I don’t know, to manipulate Max to go with him, I don’t see why he has to lie in the first place. Because my rewrite does the same job of the subtext. Maybe it is a development mistake.

These are the dialogues that are relevant, right after Max accepts or declines the invitation:

If Max accepts: Warren: I have to tell Brooke I'm going with you to the movies instead. I'll text you later? If Max declines: Warren: Uh, I have to see if Brooke wants to go to the drive-in, Max. Maybe I'll see you later. [Tue; morning] (Episode 2: Out of Time)

Okay, the first one sounds like Warren has invited Brooke first before Max with that “instead” and the second one sounds like Warren hasn’t invited Brooke at all. Weird, isn’t it? This is why people say Warren is playing off both girls. But there’s this dialogue:

Brooke: That's so ironic that Warren asked Max to the drive-in. Brooke: It's not like I don't own all the original "Apes" films. Brooke: Maybe I should've asked Warren to go... [Thu; afternoon] (Episode 4: Dark Room) [Max accepts Warren’s invitation route]

“Maybe I should’ve asked Warren to go”? In the narrative of if like you say, Warren playing them off, this dialogue doesn’t really add up, does it? It sounds like Warren never invites Brooke at all, or at the very least, they talk about wanting to go but never commit to doing it together. Does this make sense?

So what is this? Which one is right? Are these inconsistencies again? Maybe? Am I wrong? Tbh, my head hurts already LOL Tell me what you think. I’m so tired of this game’s inconsistencies.

Brooke is the second choice here. I don’t deny that. She always is even in the alternate universe, poor girl. Even after Warren says that he will ask Brooke instead after Max declines that morning, I think he still procrastinates on that and keeps hoping Max will change her mind until the next day. That’s why later he says: “I’ll have an extra one” (or “keep your spot open” in my rewrite) [Wed; morning].

And then, there’s the scene where Max is dared to kiss or not kiss Chloe [Wed; morning] (Episode 3: Chaos Theory). Regardless of whether Max kisses her or not, Chloe will text Warren later [Thu; morning]. In the route of Max declining Warren’s invitation, it sounds like he finally gets that Max is either not interested in romance or is interested in Chloe. So Warren gives up and he finally invites Brooke to the drive-in (Episode 4: Dark Room) [Thu; afternoon].

Just like Max is not interested in Warren and prioritising Chloe, Warren doesn’t seem to be interested in Brooke and he prioritises Max. Insensitive? Yes lol But, they are teenagers having a crush.

I hope all this makes sense.

4. "he knows how to build pipe bombs."

Because he's a nerd. A nerd who spends his time experimenting with chemistry. Pipe bombs are simple to make too. Max can even make it with his instructions. It's not weird if he knows how to build a lot of stuff. When you are passionate about something, you will want to learn more stuff, right?

Also, Anon, in high school, we begged our chemistry teacher to put potassium inside the water after we heard it would explode. She reluctantly yielded and yeah, it exploded and we screamed and laughed. She immediately regretted her decision. My point is explosion is exciting, Anon. There’s a reason why teenagers like to play with fireworks. Dangerous? Duh. It’s exciting tho, said a lot of teenagers.

God knows I got knowledge on weird stuff just because of some morbid curiosity or because one of my interests gets me interested in researching weird stuff. But my point is, it’s the same with Warren in this case. It’s not weird at all that a science nerd knows how to build a pipe bomb.

5. "he almost beat nathan to death because he was angry."

This, is my favourite point you made. Because despite all the people who decided to let Warren beat up Nathan, you use this point to imply that this isn't right, which weirdly makes me happy to see that it's acknowledged. Because it IS not right! Sorry, I'm just a Nathan trash (who wants to punch him too ironically but of course, I wouldn’t do it lol Sorry, Nate). Of course, you may say this with the intention of “there is something wrong with Warren based on this scene, some anger issues or something which is… dangerous.” Well…

You know, Anon, the thing with Warren is, the game subtly told us that he is bullied. And I was spending time trying to find evidence but I’m frankly so tired of combing the Wikia HAHAHA Turned out, someone has talked about it already.

There’s no confirmation on who bullies him (eh), but my guess is having a room across the kInG oF bLaCkWeLl's (I hate that dumb cheesy nickname lol) is not a good time for him. People can interpret it as him being angry because his crush is getting attacked by Nathan again, but I don't really see that tbh. Maybe it starts off as that, but later it explodes because of the pent-up anger he feels inside after all the bullying he has experienced. That’s the first time he beats up someone. He doesn’t even know he could do that.

Of course, this is just a different interpretation. Some people choose to interpret something from this side of the spectrum and there are people who choose to do it from the other side of the spectrum. I chose “this side of the spectrum” to give you a different interpretation to ponder upon.

People could scoff and say, “Now you are just being biased.” Well… That’s what Warren haters do too. Being biased. Because Warren has so many positive things too, you know? It’s just the same as how Chloe haters are biased and ridiculously bash her hard outside of the fandom, when she has so many positive things.

People could scoff again and say, “You are using ‘him being a teenager’ too much as an excuse.” I believe we are too hard on teenagers. Yes, even the 18-year-old kids. You don’t magically mature and know everything about yourself or the world once you are 18 years old (or 19), even if society deems them as young adults. I sure didn’t when I was 18 (or 19). I only knew what my favourite colours are in my 20s! (Answer: the shades of pink, red-purple, and true red.) Everyone has their own pace. Warren is approximately a month before 17.

Also, I believe in mental growth. If people love the idea of flawed Warren as a character and then they write a fanfiction about him maturing and growing as a person and Max is in the picture, is that a bad thing? Of course not, it’s just them believing in the potential inside a character and character dynamic and using it as a creative outlet. Characters in “Life is Strange” are created to be in the grey shades. From the almost-white (like Kate and Samuel maybe) to the almost-black (like Jefferson). Max is grey. Chloe is grey. Rachel is grey. Warren is also grey. It’s not a bad thing to love fictional grey characters or even villains.

Lastly, let this be a reminder, not only for Anon, but for people in general, that… you don’t know why someone loves something. They may have nuanced reasons that they can’t explain fully if they don’t write long-ass essays and even if they do write one, sometimes people don’t even care about reading it. But if you keep an open mind and listen, maybe you won’t agree, but at least you understand a little bit and respect the opinion. Like, for example, hell, if I hear someone seriously loves Jefferson I will be so baffled (I hate him), but I will be so interested in hearing it and I'll still be so baffled but I’ll respect that, you know? Maybe I'll laugh a lot but only because I’m entertained and happy that they explain it to me. (I’m seriously interested so hit me up if any lol)

But that’s only me and my mindset. The general rule is just please be respectful.

Maybe after this, more people will come to my inbox and point out more things to argue. While… um, okay, I did say I claim to be Warren’s personal lawyer (and I was obviously joking) but until when will you people do this? xD Okay, I can’t stop it, or I can but I don’t want to block the few anonymous asks to my inbox, but since my lawyering is not paid by Warren, whether I will write an essay like this again or not will depend on my time and mood hehehehe xD

Thank you for the ask. I enjoy writing this! For Warren sympathisers, I hope I do him justice. If not, I’m sorry, but let’s hear it.

I'm shocked if someone is actually reading this, but if so, thanks for reading.

Kris

[trying-not-horny-on-main]

Vessel x Genderless "You" : Crawling Back to Me Chapter 1

SUMMARY: In order to sustain his power and connection to his god, Vessel must sacrifice someone's memory to be devoured by Sleep. You keep letting him offer you. Waking up with no memory, will this time be different? Probably not.

***SAMPLE*** Moving to the piano, he sits and begins to play. At first, you refuse to be taken by the music because you assume it is a ploy to get you to cooperate and lull you into a false sense of security. Then, you resent him and think that he’s just showing you off and trying to seduce you into loving him. Finally, as the music continues, he begins to hum along and you can’t help but feel the knots in your body come undone and a threatening little heat build in your belly. When the song ends, he asks, “Do you remember this one?” He begins anew. When he glances over, you shake your head. Your body screams to remember.

***SAMPLE*** He studies you, blue eyes careful. When you don’t react because you couldn’t possibly know how to react, he winces. “You’re gone. Fresh and empty, huh?” “Apparently.” You look down. “I’m right here.” “You’re gone,” ii nods. He tries to smile but his nostrils flare. The kitchen is warm. You notice a waffle maker warming up on the counter beside the bowl. There are several place settings at the table. “In case he forgot to tell you, I’m ii,” he points to himself. “I’m…” you hesitate. “Someone.”

NOTES: A while ago, I had seen someone (probably on tumblr) talking about "imagine a monster that makes you forget yourself, sinking into bliss, and you end up wanting to forget yourself". I'd tried to write that before but realized that there was some potential around Sleep for it.

Written in genderless 2nd person for self insert. Written as respectfully as possible using stage personas–plus, hopefully there’s not actually a God devouring people’s personalities but really who is to say?

Spice expected in chapter 2 or 3, I promise I won’t make you wait long.

Aspiring to keep the whole thing short so I can bang this out so I can focus on nanowrimo properly and not “oh, what if empty-brain-sacrifice-tentacle-smut?”

[leonsliga]

I don't think they drank alcohol at that party. We just had a good time, got very little sleep and came to training. This is a common thing, during away matches, players often celebrate together and go to bed in the morning. Then they get up after a couple of hours and go home or go for regeneration. Build wrote about it himself, it happened more than once. The main thing is not to drink alcohol, then it won't be a big problem. For me, the behavior of the players is strange, because Leon and Serge are under special supervision of the management, and if they want to stay in Bayern, they must show it. This party may have the opposite effect. It's interesting the official comments, because it might not be true. The photo from the article is very strange, it could be anyone.

From the way the article phrased it, I don’t think they drank either. From the sounds of it, bild was just saying that there was vodka in the vip lounge, but that doesn’t really mean anything. That vodka could’ve been anyone’s. Besides, it was their day off, you could argue, “so what if they were drinking? They were off the clock.” The main thing is that they showed up to training, as is expected of them.

I think you’re right in pointing out that there’s an added layer of complexity to this situation though, given how many eyes are on Leon, Phonzy, and Serge at the moment. It’s tricky; they could interpret this as a bad look for the club, which could be either fair or unfair to the three of them, depending on your point of view.

I won’t lie, it’s very telling that no one else has reported on this apart from bild (at least as far as I’ve seen). That makes me think that either they weren’t there, or if they were, that the party was much tamer than bild was implying. It’s hard to tell much from the photo honestly…it’s blurry and dark, so you’re right; it really could be anyone.

The whole thing makes me wonder if bild saw our run of poor performances and all the internal club drama and thought they could capitalize on it with a story like this, whether it’s true, false, or exaggerated. It just seems like a shitty thing to do regardless.

[truly-morgan]

[Transmigrator!JC, no core transfer]

ChangXian | Mo Dao Zu Shi 27-03-2021

[#jiangcheng #chengxian - transmigrator]

A reader transmigrates into jc after they died in an accident. He's in a child version of him and doesn't remember the detail of mdzs, the system won't let him remember yet, but he does know that he's not the original jc. No one noticed because jc doesn't have another choice but to follow jc canon personality, as he cannot be ooc. He does win some ooc pass, but he decides to keep them for more strategic moments of the story. He wants to fix some parts that could have been /so easily/ avoided if everyone had decided that communication was a useful thing to do. 

So, everything goes rather well and follows canon until the dreaded moment of losing his golden core. This is something he knew would happen but still ended up being painful as hell, even seeing his parent dead was seriously upsetting (having gotten attached to them despite himself).  

Yet he his rather calm when wwx and WN saved him from the wens, because jc isn't og!jc, not being able to cultivate anymore (especially since he knew it would happen) is something he had already somewhat made peace with even before it happened. He already knew. 

wwx is really worried, because /how/ can his jc be /this calm/ at the idea of not having a core anymore?!? He still tries to reassure him with false promise, terrified by this calm shidi of his, even more when he has a smile showing he know wwx doesn't know what to do either and that he’s just spilling bullshit to reassure the both of them. 

Jc won't even let the it of transferring golden core bloom in wwx mind and politely thanks wq for hiding them and healing his other wounds. This also surprised wwx, because he would never have expected for his shidi to act like this with a wen after what happened, or maybe was it just because they helped? 

Then they started travelling around, obviously unable to go back to lp. wwx tries to find way to build back a golden core, even though it is impossible. After some time of finding nothing, while jc does know how he could, but still isn’t sure if he wants to try. 

He has to take back lp and rebuilt it, but he cannot do this very well without any way to cultivate it. Then one day when they are staying in a cave far from the town filled with wens, wwx calls out to him. “Do you think using... never mind, you won’t agree” he started, before mumbling the end of it. 

“Were you talking about your idea of using demonic cultivation?” he asks, a little smile on his face at how surprised wwx was. Maybe he had not expected for jc to both remember and even seem alright with using it. 

jc ends up convincing to go to the burial mounds, trying to “just guess” where they could start better. wwx isn’t so sure about it, but with how confident jc seems to be about this, he helps him fly there. 

They are here for months of wwx wrecking his brain to help jc, motivated by the idea that he would be able to cultivate again, in a way. He even creates the Stygian Tiger Seal, although he makes jc promise that he will use it only in desperate times, because he cannot tell how powerful this weapon is exactly. Jc agrees, but mostly because he knows what this can do and doesn’t want to use it carelessly. 

They suddenly make both their appearance, ready to help in the sunshot campaign, in which jc prove himself to be really powerful with his new way of cultivating, wwc close behind to protect him from criticism. They don’t tell anyone about his missing golden core, as this is not something he wants to be known and tries ignoring what people say about his new way of cultivating. 

“Let them talk” had once said jc as wwx was getting worked up about what one of the sect leaders had said about him, “Their words mean nothing, it won’t stop me from rebuilding Lotus Pier and pulling back up the sect”. 

Once the sunshot campaign is won, and his sister married (which jzx better take good care of her, otherwise he better expect one angry sect leader at the step of Koi Tower), he does just that, rebuilding the whole of lp with the help of wwx. 

After the campaign was over jc also slowed down on how much he was using demonic cultivation. One canon dead wwx was enough to know what could happen, he didn’t believe himself to be better. Yet it was still clearly taking a toll on him, wwx starting to regret letting him do this. 

He agreed on letting lwj play Song of Clarity for him, which was something the lan had been insisting on doing for a long time, clearly not approving of the new path he was taking. Lwj visits were frequent, jc looking from the side wwx getting friendlier with him, making him ach a bit despite being happy to see them finally getting closer. 

Yet after sometimes it is a bit hard for lwj to come often, as cr is also being rebuilt, lxc needing his brother’s help. It’s when they are visiting cr to give a hand and talk with the new sect leader that wwx suddenly asked if he can learn song of clarity. Even jc is surprised by the sudden request his shixiong makes, as this wasn’t something one should request, yet he doesn’t look anywhere near teasing, a serious look on his face. 

He wants to help jc and he will find a way to help him not deteriorate with the demonic cultivation he was doing. Lqr clearly wants to refuse directly, yet it’s lwj who asks why he wants to learn it. It takes some time for wwx to explain he wants to be able to play it for jc. They back and forth a lot, mainly because they don’t understand why jc /won’t give up/ using demonic cultivation. 

“It is the only way I can cultivate now, I do not have a golden core anymore” jc finally says as wwx and lqr were getting more heated by the second. This makes a heavy silence fall in the room, every lans looking shocked by the news, while wwx gives him a “is it alright to tell?” look. 

They check to make sure, though they doubt anyone would lie about such a serious matter, and realise that /it is/ the only way he can cultivate. They by no means agree with it, but they can’t find it to force him to not cultivate anymore, especially as a sect leader. They reluctantly agreed, mostly because lwj had decided to side with wwx at some point, on the condition that wwx had to follow cr rules for the time he was here studying song of Clarity.

Jc sometimes barely believed it when he was told that /wwx/ was actually following rules, mostly too occupied with learning and practising. The first times he plays Song of Clarity, lwj is always near, just to make sure he does it right, until it is sure his good the intention wouldn’t cause for jc condition to get worst.

Soon he was able to play it alone for jc, probably more often than needed, but they both enjoyed the alone time it would give them. Something in jc was really happy to have these moments, where wwx thoughts were only on him. Yet when he realised, he had such thoughts, he tried pushing them away. He couldn’t start feeling things for him if it was only to have his heart broken later on. 

The rescue of the wens finally came, something he had been wondering if it would still happen. At this point, he couldn’t tell what should stay canon and what would have been fully altered by him and his choices. He was surprised by the ooc moment he could have, only able to guess the system was allowing for a new type of character growth. After all, it had never /actually/ pushed for following the canon religiously. wwx was the one to be found by wq first, asked if he could help her to get back her family that had been taken captive by the Lanling Jin clan. As the discussion gets a bit more tense, wwx not really wanting to cause trouble by disrupting the llj clan. Jc suddenly appear, wondering what had kept wwx out for so long. 

Wq is quick to ask him, unsure if seeking the sect leader's help would do anything, yet to both their surprise jc accept without much debate. Jc had always had a little soft spot for wn when he was reading and hoped they still had time to save him, as he couldn’t remember exactly how long after the campaign the rescue had been. 

Jc and wwx then ague for a while, wq taking some rest in one of their room. “The other sect leaders are already wary of you because of your cultivation?! Why do you want to give them more reason to distrust you?” wwx ask, something twisting in jc’s guts because of how worried he sounded, as if this action alone was going to cause him to die or something. 

“wq and her brother saved us when they could have simply let the wen find us again” he points out at some point, wwx unable to argue that. “Plus not every wen are horrible monster, do you think the old and the children are the one who burned down lotus pier?” he asked, playing on his knowledge of who exactly was wq family. Not anyone who had done anything wrong, other maybe than her to keep them safe. 

“I will bring them back here and we will deal with the aftermath later”. 

It was extremely reckless of him to do such a thing. Sure, jyl was married to the llj sect, but it didn’t mean he could just take away people they had decided to detain. Just thinking back to how they were most likely being treated was enough to want and help. 

And they did, getting in without much care in the world, jc following wq as she looked around for wn, his guts twisting more and more as time passed and they couldn’t find him. Wwx was close by, glaring back at the cultivator trying to hide what they had done. 

They were digging their hole, yet jc had to stay calm, knowing that killing them would do no good, stealing away prisoners was already too much. He was going to argue back at the bullshit they were saying, clearly not seeing these people as human, when a wail made him freeze. Oh. They were too late. 

Jc was the first one to start running, follow closely behind by wwx, finding quite easily wq who was clutching her brother close to her, the scene making his heart cry. He clenched his fists, his breathing heavy. 

Of course, they would be late. 

He startles a bit when a hand grabbed his, wwx looking back at him worried. He tries to look calmer to reassure him, giving a small pat to his hand before joining wq, asking her if she could find the rest of her family, taking in his arms wn body. 

The rest of their little visit went a bit less smoothly, the guard clearly understanding now what he was trying to do, which was not merely looking around. He /did/ ends up fighting with them, but to be fair, they were the one who started it, and he didn’t kill anyone. 

Soon they were out with everyone and he was taking them back to lp, where he would have full control. He'd be curious to see who was ready to barge into his home to get them back. When they arrived, every disciple in lp was surprised by what their sect leader had just brought back, yet no one really dared to argue against it. If he was doing it there had to be a good reason, he wouldn’t be bringing in people from a clan that had burned down lp and killed many of their disciples if he didn’t have a reason. 

Some of the wens were also clearly on edge, unsure why they were being brought here. Yet, if wq had sought their help, then they could most likely relax. They were led to some of the guest rooms to be able to rest, asking one of the healers to go and check on everyone’s wounds to help wq, she had to be tired too. 

They took wn back to the study, both cultivators looking at him. “What do we do now?” wwx asked him, looking a bit worried at how tired his shidi was from all the travelling and the fight from earlier, not helping that he had to order everyone around to make sure things were going smoothly here too. 

“Tomorrow we will most likely receive news from sect leader jgs” he points out, the idea already tiring him, “but that’s for tomorrow, right now our mind should be put on finding how to settle the wen in and what to do with... wn” he says, hesitating about the last part. 

Could they manage to revive him the same way wwx had done it before? Would it work if it was here at lp and not the burial mounds? Wwx wanted to ask what he wanted to do with wn, but wq joined them before, making her presence known at the door. Jc let her in, making place so she can come and join them. 

Wn looked a bit better, as he had been cleaned up from the mud a little bit, just enough for him not to look impossible to deal with. He could see the tears welling up at the corner of her eyes, making him look back at wn. He had used him as a fierce corps by accident, mostly because only fighting with a sword and no core wouldn't do go against more than one cultivator. 

“I think we can do something for him," e said, hearing his name loudly whispered to his right. He decided to carefully explain is plan, acting as if it was an idea that had just bloomed in his mind and was not something he simply had known since forever that they could do that. 

Then he saw the helpfulness in her eyes, feeling like this was enough for him not to give up. They talk some more before he just told her to go and sleep, he would make sure everyone was alright. 

“jc! How do you plan on doing this?! By controlling him like a puppet" finally asked wwx when wq was gone, making him look back at him. “We will find a way, I just… know we can do it, we already managed to make so much with this, there is surely a way we can do it l". He couldn't tell /how/ they would do it, as the novel had never explicitly said it, but they had been experimenting and this would most likely end up working. 

Wwx got closer to him, reaching for his hand “I don't want you overworking yourself, with your cultivation path it-

could be…” he had said worried, not daring to say what could happen. 

Jc squeezed his hands reassuringly, offering a smile. “I won't overwork myself" he simply promised. 

A promise that was a bit hard to follow when first thing happening the next day was a couple a llj cultivators at the door of lp demanding that he surrender the wens. He stays firm on his position and refuse, saying he will be taking them in due to debt needing to be paid to wq. He doesn't explain more on that,  but it's clearly not pleasing. 

The following days are tiring and messy, jc having to take care of anything coming from the other sect leader, looking over the small house that is being constructed for the wens, which is close enough to the centre of lp to not exclude them. All this while also working with wwx to see what they can do about wn. 

It's not long before it is visibly all affecting him, wwx only growing more concerned about him because he wasn't trying to be more careful. At some point, jc is invited at kt with the other great clan leaders, to discuss the matter and see if they could settle everything with some talking. Jc knows it probably all to try and force him to give back the wens, but he won’t let jgs believe he can just make him do whatever he wants simply because he’s still rebuilding the ymj sect and because he’s young compared to all of them. 

Wwx insists on coming with him, although he said he would prefer for his right-hand man to stay and makes sure everything is alright. “But who will play the song of clarity for you? And what if they are luring you in for a fight? If you use your cultivation, they will only use it against you” 

Jc really wants to refuse, yet upon looking at his shixiong he cannot, the worry in his eyes too much. He has truly fallen too much for him and he doesn’t know what he’ll do about this. So, he accepts to let him come with him, asking some of his older disciples to make sure everything is going alright. Of course, he makes it really clear that the wens have to be treated correctly, just in case anyone was still unsure. 

The first meeting is tense, jc sitting with his back straight, head high, wwx just the same slightly behind him. Nothing in his stance shows he will give even /one/ wen to them. Yet they try, but word will clearly not reach him. “But didn’t the wen destroy lotus pier?” jgs, whispers and nods coming soon after. “So you believe the olds and the sick were the one who burned down lotus pier? As if I haven’t already found back /who/ actually did it and taken care of that?”. 

This statement sent a shiver down some of the leader's back, not sure what to think about the possibility of what jc might have done to these cultivators. “But can they be trusted?”. 

“Are you perhaps implying I cannot make a judgement for myself? I have my reason to take them in and do not need to disclose them” 

The meeting ends up on a rather tense note, everyone going back to their room to calm down a bit as things were clearly not going anywhere. This repeats itself many times, until jc finally suggests that he keeps them under close watch, not allowed to put a foot outside of lp and that they can even send someone to come of to verify that he’s not lying and that none of them are complotting against them. 

“This sounds fair to me” comments lxc who hadn’t said much since this all had started, making wwx and jc a bit surprised, although it was good to have someone else seemingly on their sides. Soon it’s turn for nmj to accept the suggestion, following the step of his sworn brother despite his hatred of the wens., leaving jgs nearly no room to actually refuse. They go back to lp with lwj and jzx so take a first look at how things are doing. A weight does lift from jc shoulders when everything seems to be doing good, everyone working well together. It clearly is still a bit awkward between the jiang and the wens, but it is better than it was at first. 

And this is how thing goes for the following months. Things settle down, the rebuilding of lp is coming to an end and the wens are fully settled in, some even helping around to do task with the disciple. The one to come the most is lwj, which jc doesn’t mind as he can push wwx a bit more towards him, so they can get closer. 

Their friendship does seem to grow, but something seems to simply block at that and jc wonders if the story had changed for that. Was wangxian not the main couple anymore? This couldn’t be possible, could it? 

He tries asking wwx about it, yet his shixiong only seems to get a bit tense at how insistent he had been in the last months to see them growing closer. “Why do you keep asking how things are doing between me and lwj?” he finally asked as he was putting away his guqin. 

“Well, you’re been around him a lot lately, I was simply wondering” 

“But you are the one always asking me to be with him!”. Jc doesn’t argue that, he might have often found reason to let wwx takes care of lwj because he had other things to do. Really lwj didn’t seem bothered by these decisions. “Do you hate being around lwj?” he asked, unsure if he might have read it wrong all this time. 

“Well, no... he’s a good friend and more fun to be with than I thought, but... why does it seem like you are pushing me away?” he ask, something jc couldn’t decipher in his voice. 

“I am not pushing you away” he tries, only to realise he might have been doing it despite himself. He wanted for wwx to be happy and his growing love would only get in the way eventually. “I just thought you might enjoy some time with someone else than me”. 

“But I am good with you! I don’t need you to push me on someone else when I like being with you”. 

Jc is a bit stunned by this, a little something in him swelling with hope he knew he shouldn’t have. Jc then took in a breath, a bit shakier than he wanted it to be, trying to argue that wwx wouldn’t be able to always be by his side one day. 

“Are you planning on throwing me away one day?” he heard ask as he reopened his eyes after rubbing the tiredness out of them, surprised to see wwx so close to him now. He looks so pained at the idea of being pushed away, either now or in the future. 

“of course not, it just... complicated,” he says, a hand suddenly grabbing his gently, something he found wwx had been doing a lot lately. “I can help you if it’s complicated” he hears, a reassuring smile on his shixiong lips, making jc want to be selfish a little bit and /actually/ confess right here and there, despite not being sure wwx would even reciprocate it. 

“I want it to still be only the two of us like this forever” he finally hears whispered, wwx getting dangerously closer to him, “isn’t it what you also want to do?”. 

He can feel wwx breath against his skin, his lips ô so close to his, he would barely need to move to close the gap. “Are you sure this is really what you want” manages to whisper jc, looking back into wwx eyes, feeling unsure if he was understanding it correctly. “As been for a long time” The closeness doesn’t really-

let him see the smile, but he can hear it and see it in his eyes. 

Then jc decide to say ‘fuck it’ and simply closed the gap, receiving a delighted humming as wwx quickly replied. It’s a bit awkward at first, since jc has never done this before, but he quickly finds how it all works and just enjoys the kisses they are sharing. 

“For how long as a-cheng felt like this?” he hears against his ear, his grip on wwx robe tightening a bit. “Sometimes” he answers, unsure exactly when he might have fallen in love with wwx, only to dismiss it as some kind of really close friendship he had with him. He knew he had started to notice around the sunshot campaign, when lwj had started to be a bit more around wwx. 

“I am happy to hear it, I have love a-cheng for some time now” he hears, taking him aback as he had never realised, yet feeling really happy about it. 

Oh well, jc wouldn’t mind if this new version of mdzs had him as the protagonist's new love interest, it could make for something more exciting. 

====

(I think I'll finish it here, it has gotten really long and word is telling me it has already it 4k. At this point I might as well just make a fanfiction of something like that. + I wasn’t sure how I would play the whole jgy plan now, might retouch it later on)

Original

[hiswordsarekisses]

This post is so wonderful. I found this on a Facebook page called “Waiting Well Changes Everything”

“We all know and love Jeremiah 29:11, but I urge you to go back to verse one and lean into some game changing truths:

Verses 1, 4 & 7 …

King Nebuchadnezzar had deported God’s chosen people from Jerusalem to Babylon in exile. But in verses 4 and 7, the Lord made it clear through Jeremiah’s letter that GOD alone was responsible for the deportation of his people. I often skipped over that inconspicuous detail, focusing more on the exile itself, but it’s critical to realize our loving Heavenly Father will sometimes bring us to incredibly uncomfortable places for our own benefit - although there’s nothing that feels good at the time.

And we often cast blame on the person or situation causing our pain rather than consider that there’s a spiritual aspect in play. The Israelites, no doubt, looked at the king as the source of their pain and suffering. He received their wrath because he was the one they could visibly see, the one who uprooted them, who forced them from their homes and radically altered their lives; he was the issue. But God told the Israelites twice that HE was responsible for deporting them. The God they worship; the God they can’t see; their loving God orchestrated in the spiritual realm an exile in the physical realm. What we see is not ever the true reflection of our reality.

Verses 5 and 6 …. Accept the fact that you’re going to be in this season for awhile. Before God told the Israelites how long they’d be in exile, he gave them his expectations: “Build houses and live in them. Plant gardens and eat their produce. Find wives for yourselves, and have sons and daughters. Multiply there; do not decrease.”

These are all long term directives in a place the Israelites didn’t want to be. Our seasons of exile or wilderness will all look different, and I’m praying they won’t last the 70 years of the Israelites, but what I can tell you is the longer you fight it, the longer you will be planted there. Leaning into all that God has to show you, how he wants to mold you, will insure the greatest transformation in the least amount of time.

Inhale, exhale and accept verse 7 … “Pursue the well being of the city I have deported you to. Pray to the Lord on its behalf, for when it thrives, you thrive.” I can imagine how hard it was for the Israelites to pray for the king and all those who persecuted them daily. God was calling them to bless the very people who were hurting them. And so are we called. God says, when we pray for them and they thrive, then we thrive. How counter intuitive is that?! Only you and God know who should be the focus of your prayers in that exile. It’s hard to swallow at first, but God massively blesses and ministers to those who can rise up and pray for the souls of those doing the persecuting.

Verse 8 … You’re searching YouTube and Facebook for prophetic words from ANYone; you’re seeking advice from friends and family; you’re desperate for a sign, a dream, anything to give you direction. Warning! When we are desperate for a word, ANY word will often suffice, and the world is all too willing to supply it:

“You need to move on.”

“God wouldn’t want you suffering like this”

“Are you sure you heard God right?”

“Really … just put it all behind you.”

“Maybe God didn’t mean for it right now, but later ... when things don’t look so impossible.”

God knew you would go seeking. That’s why he gave his declaration in verses 8 and 9: don’t be deceived; don’t go seeking dream interpretations; don’t go seeking advice, for they are prophesying FALSELY to you in my name. I HAVE NOT SENT THEM.

If you go looking for someone to walk you out of an exile, that God has deported you to, make no mistake, you’ll find an escort, and most likely they’ll be a handsome, pretty, sweet-talkin’ package that looks and feels so “easy”, but it won’t be a Heavenly-orchestrated escort. You’ll wake up one day to find a greater prison then you had in the exile. Don’t allow your social circle, your family or friends, your co-workers to have more influence in your decisions then what God had said directly to you.

And finally, verses 10 and 11 … so often we glorify verse 11, but we miss the fact that God, in verse 10, had just announced the Israelites were to be in exile for almost a life time - 70 years to be exact. God was reassuring his people that despite the length of the exile, and the pain and suffering of the exile, he had a plan … a plan for their well-being, not for disaster, to give them a future and a hope beyond the exile. He was reassuring them that in this exile they can call out to him, pray and seek him, and that they will be heard by and find him. And that God planned to restore their fortunes and their relationships from the place HE banished them to.

In the midst of our exile, there is no greater beauty than the sweet words of God saying, “I will restore you to the place from which I deported you.”

We are encouraged to have faith in the exile; keep faith in the exile; and know that faith always proceeds the evidence that is most assuredly on the way.”

[5eraphim]

I need a support group for people who were sexually awakened by the "let's make a deal" trope. Technically I believe the name for this trope falls under the category of "Dark Bargains," though, in some instances, it's more akin to a gamble than a contract. And thinking more about this trope i startd spiraling and made this meditation on writing these tropes and why they work so well.

My Favorite Dark Bargain Tropes

The Deal with the Devil

A tale older than time. A mortal human makes some kind of agreement with a supernatural entity (not always a devil, but some sort of malevolent entity.) for worldly gain at the cost of one's immortal soul. While putting a lowly human against a powerful supernatural entity sounds like the build-up to a predictable occlusion, this narrative has been interpreted in countless ways to subvert expectations or even to subvert prior iterations of this story.

This is a sister trope to the "chess against death" story, where the protagonist will actively try to beat the devil/death at the cost of their soul rather than taking an assured reward for a secure price. Usually, the two overlap when the protagonist tries to work their way out of the contract, challenging the devil directly. 

Not only should your audience know why the protagonist would sacrifice their own soul for their reward, but what is the relationship between the protagonist and this antagonistic entity. Do they not believe in the afterlife, a hedonistic character only concerned with Earthly pleasure? Are they doing this as a last result, only making such a drastic sacrifice after an entire life of suffering? While the audience must understand the reward, "want," and motivation in question, the "fear" or lack thereof regarding the devil should likewise be understood.

The Bet

This one is super common in media. I remember from growing up and adult media/fiction. IMO, the better the characters, the more compelling the bet. Even one-dimensional characters can work so long as a real rivalry is established. Additionally, the audience won't care about the outcome if one person is written as blatantly overpowered or if this person loses through some cheap last-minute twist. A twist-ending can only work with proper foreshadowing or at least post-justification.

While this definitely falls under the "bargain" category, gambler characters flourish here, as they are all the more likely to risk it all and fight as hard as possible to win. Maybe they are blind to their own shortcomings regarding their opposition, or they don't understand the severity of the bet until they're in too deep. Just because your character wants to win doesn't mean they can't regret entering in the first place!

The genius of the trope really lies in simplicity. A bet can fuel a plot under just about any genre. It could come in the form of a high-stakes action game. The downward spiral of a hero in a tragedy. A high school romance where the (usually) male protagonist is challenged to woo his love interest after his friends bet he can't do it. 

The other critical component is the "punishment" aspect, or whatever fate should befall the loser. The story doesn't even need to show what happens to the bet's loser as long as the steaks are straightforward. Not to say the outcome needs to be played straight! The punishment could be less about harming the loser and more about the winner's amusement. Or perhaps the loser secretly enjoys or finds comfort in their punishment. The bet is far more about the "chase" and less about the "success."

The Fantasy Contract

Very similar to the deal with the devil trope but with slightly less sinister connotations. The idea here is it's more a matter of contracting the supernatural to receive their help and agreeing to follow whatever fantastical laws of the land. 

Typically, the supernatural entity would try to explain the rules and regulations in "human terms" to lure the protagonist into a false sense of security. To get a contract signed without reading the fine print or informed consent. Sometimes to the extent, the protagonist is effectively played like a pawn, just a minor stepping stone in the villain's master plan. The drama unfolds as your protagonist begins to learn they didn't understand what they signed up for and pick up there's more to the contract behind the scenes.

There must be a good reason a character would try to make a contract with the supernatural, whether they believe it safe to do so or not. It doesn't have to be as dramatic as trying to raise the dead, so long as the audience understands why your protagonist is making this bargain in the first place. Perhaps the supernatural entities are "wolf in sheep's clothing" types, telling stories of helping humanity and mortals for ages now, omitting any less savory details.

Get creative writing on how to summon the entity! Fiction gives us no shortage of inspiring and fascinating ritualistic scenes of how to summon spirits and commune with the occult. Or instead of bringing the entity to your protagonist, they need to seek out the creature themself. Whether that means embarking on a weeks-long voyage to another land or a walk across town. Focusing on the setting and the build-up before even meeting the creature help build up anticipation and characterization of whatever your protagonist must invoke.

Working off the Debt

Not necessarily the direct result of losing a bet or bargain, but essentially all iterations of this scenario begin with a character confronted, needing to pay up, but ultimately being unable to pay monetarily. Great diversity for the reason your character wound up here. Maybe they were tricked into agreeing to something without seeing the price first. 

Often in this situation, the protagonist is given board while working off their debt for the antagonist, considering how living under the same roof as one essentially forcing you into servitude could affect your protagonist's mental state. Working under someone's direct control would force your protagonist to remain aware and suffer the consequences of being unable to pay up. Or they agreed to take out a loan to send money to someone they love and cannot pay back their debt now that it's accumulated interest. In the same vein, consider your character agreeing to work off the debt of someone close to protect them. 

Great sense of drama comparing a lone character with a massive weight over their head and pressure to pay off their debt, forced into the service of another person or organization. The fear of eternal financial debt is terrifying to the modern audience, and the idea of physically toiling away under the fleeting hope of escaping living like this. Especially if your character is a "fish out of water" type, the antagonist takes advantage of their naivety or inexperience in their new home.

While the pain of working off debt should be well elaborated upon, consider the build-up to this moment. Has your character been trying to doge the debt collector for some time? How long have they been working up this debt? Not to say every debater should have a long history leading up to the punishment for failing to pay, but to better establish your character's past and how that's relevant to where they've ended up.

As for examples under the "Gambling" sub-genera

All or Nothing

Ironically this trope is perhaps more common in game shows and competitive reality tv shows than in fiction. While it's hard to begin a story with the protagonist ready to bet everything they have on one game, if the audience watches how and how long the protagonist works to acquire what they have, we'll care all the more to see if they win.

Again, this generally works well as a climax/finale to your story, of watching how hard your character had to work for their success. Generally, no one would make such a risky move to possibly lose everything, logically speaking. Is your character so caught up with winning, so blinded by hubris they believe they already have this in the bag? Are they only risking so much to definitively defeat the antagonist? What exactly does winning big or losing everything mean in the context of your story?

You could also interpret this as it's not that the protagonist will actually lose everything if they don't win, but the idea of being "second best" is just as bad as losing everything. A character with pride on the line rather than something physical.

Other questions to consider might include the context of your particular character and the "final gamble" in question. Have they lost this game before? Were they prepared for everything to come to this? How much should your audience know about the challenger making this offer in the first place? While the game in question can be obvious, we don't necessarily need to know as much about the challenger. Playing up the knowableness of the opposition can amp up your character's fear in the situation.

Descent into Addiction

Unlike many other tropes listed, this one is far less neutral and much less likely to be played for comedy rather than drama. (Assuming you're writing something high-stakes.) For most, addiction is a rather somber topic, and when trivialized or written unrealistically, people won't want to see what ultimately happens to the characters.

Essential to understand the distinction between addiction and dependence; and how those factors affect your story. While addiction is about needing more and more to achieve the same outcome, dependence focuses more on taking the same thing without a sure result. Both can be just as compelling, can work in tandem together, and can explain a physical vs. psychological need.

Relapses often play a considerable role in stories about a descent into addiction and can work as the trigger for the events of your story, just as well as the bitter conclusion. "You admire a character for trying more than for their successes." (Coats) A character's recovery history can be just as compelling as their addiction, and if you are writing a character relapsing, this is vital information.

Even people with the best intentions or misguided love can trigger a relapse in another, usually in the form of some kind of enabler. The type of people who don't necessarily intend to cause harm or hurt the addict but will lead to a relapse all the same. Perhaps your enabler could be some kind of foil to a "tough love" character. Show the audience the difference between someone who wants the addict happy, even if they know the consequences, vs. a character who would do anything to save the addict from a grizzly demise, even if that means a lot of pain and tough love along the way.

Fixing the Game

Either in the form of a game rigged from the start for players to lose or fixed by the protagonist's opposition. This particular trope rally flourishes in a traditional casino/gambling table setting, considering the way these places are explicitly engineered to fuck with people's perceptions of time. 

If the protagonist is initially characterized as moral and fair, we could watch what it would take to break someone like this. As in, someone who swears to always play by the rules eventually breaks down by loss after loss until they contemplate cheating. To learn what it would take to "break" them in this sense and how guilt would factor into all of this.

As important as the protagonist, the audience should know who stacks the game against the protagonist. Not to say the motive should be divulged immediately, but rather only in ways relevant to the main character. It doesn't matter if the enemy is a rival player or if the entire casino is in on the heist. It's the intention that counts.

Great way to build tension/suspense for the reader if privy to how the game is stacked, while the characters aren't. Or if subtle clues are laid, leading to the "Ah-Ha!" moment when all the pieces fall into place.

Strip Poker

I have no analysis here. Just always love the tension slowly builds. A relatively neutral conflict can be played for laughs or dread just as easily. Works best if the audience is given a variety of reactions from players. The possibilities are endless to see who would be embarrassed, who is just having a good time, who is hyper-focused on winning, and who would lose intentionally.

Lottery of Doom

A sort of toned-down cousin of the "death game" genre. The idea that a character can meet a deadly execution determined by sheer chance alone is terrifying! 

The idea that this could happen to anyone plays on the natural human fear of disasters or fatal accidents, how any day could be our last. No matter how careful you are or how you try to protect yourself, it's simply impossible to prepare for everything. Sure, your main character might've survived the last lottery and every one before it, but that won't protect them from the next drawing. 

In a more creative twist, you could play with the idea that your main character has won a gruesome lottery, but they don't know about the "doom" part yet. Someone so caught up in winning they only realize what they've signed up for once it's too late. 

This trope is somewhat rare compared to the others listed but has excellent narrative potential nonetheless. While the format of a literal lottery isn't as exciting as gambling, it's the motive we need to care about. Maybe you're writing about a cursed town sacrificing virgins to appease a wrathful god, its pure population control, or just another cruel practice in your dystopian society.

[roobylavender]

feel so so so lame being this upset over what a football player i’ve only been following for half a year is doing but it’s actually so bleak to think about the things people will do for money. and like not to pull a low blow but it’s kind of funny to see where people will stick to principles and where they won’t like it’s impt to stick by your friends who are admittedly charged with some pretty serious crimes (and i refer more here to h*kimi than pr*mes) and to go so far as to follow one of those friends to russia and then make a post indicating any criticism was just noise and not real concern (my disgust at certain fans’ reactions to that whole situation aside it was ultimately not a good decision to go to a country actively waging war against and seeking to overtake its neighbor), but it’s not impt to turn down big money and prove you love your sport more than the paycheck it’s necessarily capable of giving you. like idk there really is no other good reason to accept the offer. one of his best friends has declined and is willing to continue taking a pay cut so he can continue to play at his old club. and doesn’t that say enough? idk. i’m a complete stranger to this guy but in a weird way i’m almost wondering if all of this is happening bc god knows this kind of celebrity investment is non-ideal and builds up false expectations of people who are content to live in ignorance and wealth forever. which is really harsh to say but ig i’m just frustrated. i very rarely attach myself to celebs and when i do it’s usually bc i think they have something profound or sincere to say. but that’s harder when the sincerity doesn’t match up with the greed. is it meaningful to say there is no worth to alms given publicly for the sake of show rather than privately when you’re publicly about to accept a ridiculously overpriced salary? can those two statements coexist? it’s something to think about

[pagesfromthevoid]

False God | m.m. | 24

Matt Murdock x Avenger!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Violence. Language. Death.

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this took so long! I’m very tired honestly but I’m very happy with this piece.

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me! | Buy me a coffee?

It was Elektra’s thoughts that caught her attention first. Erratic, panicked, racing a mile a minute —possibilities of her future. What she needed to do; what Elektra could do. She was thinking about Stick, and everything he taught her over the years. She was worrying about Matt, and his hatred of her if she went through with joining the Hand.

It’s how she found herself on the roof, in the cold of the night, watching Elektra on the edge of their building. After too long of listening to Elektra’s thoughts, she had to shut it off; they were too much, too fast.

“Leave me alone,” Elektra ordered, though she didn’t seem convincing.

“You don’t have to do this,” she offered in response, wrapping her arms around herself. “Stick’s tied up downstairs. Restrained. Can’t hurt you.” She paused for a moment, taking a step forward. “Whatever you’re going through…whatever you’re feeling —it’ll go away, you know.”

“What do you know about what I’m feeling?” Elektra demanded, glancing over her shoulder.

She scoffed some. “Probably far more than you realize.”

“Please,” Elektra snapped, turning to finally face her. “I have been trained since I was a girl to fight and kill the Black Sky. Stick says I have a gift. Something no one else has, no one else can comprehend.”

“That’s what the Nazi doctor said about me,” she offered in response, moving to stand beside her on the rooftop. Matt stepped out, but stood back, watching them closely. “Loxias Crown didn’t train me to do anything; he just…experimented on me until I showed results. I started training with Black Widow when I was sixteen, though.”

Elektra glanced over at her, frowning deeply. But she kept talking. “We may not be the same, Elektra, but I do know how you’re feeling. You want to give in, because it’s easier. It’ll help you finally be you. But it won’t last; you’ll end up alone. And you and I both know that’s not what you want.”

“You can’t deny that some of the things the Hand does defies explanation. True or not, legend says once they have the Black Sky they will be capable of anything,” Elektra pointed out, looking back out over the city. “It’s not about what I’m willing to do —they’ll do terrible things in my name because they believe the Black Sky will make them invincible.”

“They don’t own you though,” she reminded Elektra, following her gaze. “No one can tell you what to do.”

“You’re certainly trying to.”

“Maybe I’m hoping that you’ll be convinced by someone who understands you,” she shrugged some though, continuing. “We can take them down, together. You, me, Matt. Maybe Stick, though I’d rather keep him tied to the chair.”

“You would trust me —after everything I’ve done?”

“Oh, no, I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you,” she laughed, shaking her head. “But I’ve heard your thoughts, Elektra. They’re loud and clear.”

“We need to find Nobu,” Matt finally interjected, stepping forward now. “Cut off the head of the snake, without his men knowing.”

“It’s not going to be that easy,” Elektra pointed out, looking over her shoulder at him now.

“Giving up is easy,” she reminded her gently, looking back over at her. “But we don’t give up.”

“You’ll kill him?” Elektra asked, looking between Matt and her now.

“Yes,” she said.

“No,” he said.

They shared a look, both frowning deeply as Matt pled his case. “I would make him a martyr. I want to dethrone him; show that he has no true power. Let him rot in a cell.”

“We have to find him first —“ Elektra started.

“Then we need to head straight into lion’s den, don’t we?” She cut in, a sly grin on her face. “The last thing they expect is us to come back tonight. To come back with a fight, straight to them.”

“You’ll risk everything for this?” Elektra asked, stepping off the edge of the roof.

“I’d risk everything to make things right again,” Matt explained, though his gaze was on her as he spoke. She shifted awkwardly, looking away from him.

“How do we do this then?” Elektra asked, looking to her now.

“Together,” she offered simply, smiling at Elektra reassuringly.

The moment was broken by her phone buzzing in the pouch on her belt. Matt gave her a wary look as she pulled it out, frowning deeply as she answered it.

“Hey, Nat. Now really isn’t —“

“I’m going to send you a license plate and a tracking beacon to your phone,” Natasha interrupted, as her phone buzzed against her ear. “Hill caught wind of your situation with the Hand; SHIELD has been keeping an eye on it.”

“And are they gonna help?”

“This is their help,” Natasha pointed out, though she sounded frustrated. “Hill says that they gathered up several civilians and loaded them into a bus —our contact at the police station says they beat him to hell and back asking about Daredevil. I’m concerned it’s related to you two. Hill thinks the Hand has taken anyone that’s been saved by him. Get on it.”

The line went dead as she pulled the phone away, looking over the texts with the tracking information. Then she looked up at Matt, who was staring her down through his mask.

“I can hear them,” he whispered. “They have Karen.”

“They’re using them as bait,” Elektra added, looking out over the city. “They want me. You two are the only things in their way. You can’t just take the bait.”

“We can’t just abandon them either,” she argued.

“I know,” Elektra sighed.

Matt kneeled down, focusing in on the sounds of the city as she held her phone up, looking in the direction of the bus.

“We gotta get ahead of this thing before any of them get hurt,” Matt insisted, breathing heavily.

“I found them,” she announced, handing Elektra the phone. “Dockside; there’s an abandoned warehouse off Reckland.”

Matt took off without a word, leaving the two women behind. She threw her hands in the air, yelling at him as Elektra sighed in frustration.

“He’s such a pain in my ass,” she sighed.

“And yet you seem to still love him,” Elektra pointed out, giving her a knowing look.

“I’m not having that conversation with you, of all people.”

*****

“They’re below,” Matt whispered, listening closely to the voices within the building. “There’s police too.”

She was tuning into their thoughts, trying to pry their plans out. “The Hand definitely used them to lure us. Karen triggered some guy’s ankle monitor too.”

It was then that the screaming started, and Matt pushed himself off the roof once more. Elektra stood back, watching as the two of them took off through the window of the warehouse, each tackling an attacker in their own right. The room erupted into screams as Matt threw his club at one ninja as she roundhouse kicked another in the face.

“Get them out of here!” He yelled, slamming a ninja’s head into the ground.

She nodded, rushing to the group. “Up, come on. Go!” She pointed to the door. “Out that door, hang a right. I’m right behind you. Go!”

She ushered several people out of the room, pushing them out the door. Karen grabbed her arm, looking at her in horror as she pushed the journalist out.

“Are you okay?” She asked Karen, breaking the binds around her wrists.

Karen nodded frantically, but looked her over now. “I’m better now. What about you? Why are you with —“

“It doesn’t matter. I need you to go.”

She pushed Karen out the door, slamming it behind her as another ninja swung his sword at her head. Her hands went to block the impact but it never came; the ninja was on the ground, bleeding out as Elektra stood over him. She looked up at Elektra, giving her a thankful smile.

“I got bored,” Elektra explained simply.

“The best reason to fight crime,” she offered in response.

Several more ninjas poured into the room, slicing and slashing their way around the three as they started another fight. One grabbed her by the hair, pulling her back as their partner cut their sword through the air, slicing open her shoulder. She yelled out, but the ninjas dropped suddenly as their thoughts were overwhelmed with their worst fears consuming their minds. Matt moved to help her but she pointed to Elektra.

Just as she did, Elektra was shoved into the wall, and was suddenly yanked through it. She ran after the assassin, snatching the katana off her belt and slashing off the hand of one of the ninjas that held Elektra. Matt followed close behind, grabbing the other and throwing him across the room.

“The only way out is up. We need to get to the roof,” he announced.

Her hand clutched the bleeding wound on her shoulder, cussing angrily under her breath as she followed Matt up the stairs. She may not have a healing factor, but she healed faster than the average human. But shit, did it still hurt to get stabbed.

Several flights of stairs later, they ran into an empty room and slammed the door behind them. Matt barricaded the door as she fell against the wall, breathing heavily as Elektra paced back and forth.

“There’s so many more,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“We’re gonna die,” Elektra admitted, defeated as she looked between the two heroes.

The dawning realization hit them all at once.

They were going to die; the Hand was too powerful. Even with her powers, she couldn’t take them all down at once. She couldn’t prevent Matt or Elektra from dying. If she went down, they would too. It was inevitable. It was three against an army.

He glanced at the door, listening as footsteps started to creep closer. “Do we end it here or on the roof?”

“I did always like the dramatics of throwing people off tall buildings,” she admitted, giving him a sad smile.

She pulled away, pushing him towards the stairs. The three took to the roof without any other words exchanged as the members of the Hand started to break down the door below. As they reached the roof, though, Matt froze and stared at the door in horror.

“There’s dozens of them,” he whispered. “Katanas, long bows, sais. We have maybe a few minutes before they break down that door.”

Elektra sat on the stairs, head in her hands. She leaned against the wall, sliding down it as she began to accept her death was inching closer and closer. Years of being an Avenger and it all came down to an army of ninjas, an assassin and an idiot lawyer she loved.

“We’re not going to make it out, are we?” She finally asked, looking up at him.

Matt looked to her as her heartbeat picked up, and she finally looked up at him as he kneeled before her. Elektra watched for a moment, then turned away as Matt spoke.

“I should have never brought you into this,” he whispered to her, taking his glove off to touch her cheek gently.

She leaned into the touch without thinking. “I would have found my way here anyway. Being a hero is who I am, just like its who you are.”

“I came back,” he admitted, voice soft. “That morning, I came back. I…I shouldn’t have left in the first place.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she sighed, looking up at him. “But it doesn’t matter, Matt. You heard me tell Sam it would always be you.”

“You asked me not to die for you.”

“You asked me not to kill for you. We both can’t keep promises for shit, though.”

For a moment, there she sat before him. Bloody, bruised, wielding a sword. It was a devastatingly beautiful sight to behold as she reached up and rested her hand against his cheek. Matt leaned into the touch as she pushed up on her knees, pressing her lips against his gently. It took everything in him not to push her against the wall one last time, but he didn’t. Instead, his fingers raked against the skin of her throat before tangling in her hair and holding her there.

Elektra cleared her throat, forcing them apart.

“If…if we make it out of this…” he whispered, pulling his mask off to properly look at her. “We stop. No more Daredevil, no more crime fighting. No Avengers. Just….you and me.”

“You can’t be serious,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Matt, this life is all we know —“

“This life is meaningless if you’re not there,” he insisted. “You made me realize I am only alive when I am with you. And I…I will do everything and anything to prove that I love you.”

“We have maybe an hour left for you to prove it to me,” she reminded him gently but nodded. “But if we make it out…then it’s just you and me. No masks, no superheroes —that’s it?”

“That’s it. What do you say?”

“Always, Matt. I will always say yes. We just have to survive whatever is behind that door.”

Matt smiled at her, standing up as he put his mask back on. She took his hand, pulling herself up as Elektra stood now too, looking between the couple. It felt like a hopeless gesture; one that wouldn’t end how they wanted. But it was what she wanted to hear, needed to have before they walked into their murders. Matt took a breath and pushed the door open, and the three took off onto the roof.

A slew of ninjas awaited them, shooting arrows in all directions to try to hit. Matt batted them out of the air as she sliced through them. But everything stopped as Nobu yelled out, forcing them to turn to face him.

“No one escapes destiny,” Nobu announced, swinging a blade on a chain in the air. “You belong to us. And you two —you belong in the ground!”

Nobu ran at them, throwing the blade through the air towards Matt. Matt blocked the chain as she swung the sword towards Nobu’s head, but he ducked as he wrapped the chain around her ankle and threw her to the ground. Elektra focused on the other ninjas, who grabbed her to contain her but she fought through them. Matt managed to yank the chain from Nobu’s hands and throw it to the side as she ran and jumped, wrapping her legs around his neck to tackle him and bash his head in with her fists.

Nobu threw her down, however, as another ninja punched her in the face. She groaned as Nobu threw Matt next, hitting him so hard his mask came off and he fell to the ground. She stood on shakey legs as Nobu lifted his katana.

“Matt!”

It happened faster than she cared to admit. One second, Nobu was about to pierce Matt’s heart with a katana. The next moment, Elektra was in front of him, taking the blade instead. As she screamed out again, running after Nobu and slicing her own blade through the air to cut him —an arrow lodged itself into her chest and she froze, gutted as she dropped her blade.

Matt had caught Elektra, but the clanging of her sword made him look up in horror as she dropped to her knees. Elektra whispered to him, pushing him to her, as she took another breath slowly.

“Go save her, Matthew.”

He hesitated, just barely, before he set his old flame gently to the ground and took off to her. She clutched the arrow in her chest, holding it there to keep the blood in. Matt dropped to his knees in front of her as she stared up at him, dazed and in pain.

“I…I have never been shot by an arrow before,” she whispered, swallowing hard.

“Try not to talk,” he insisted, helping her lay down in his lap. The arrow didn’t pierce all the way through, and there was a good chance she would make it. But the blood was starting to come out. Quietly, he held her close, muttering prayers to himself as Nobu ordered his men to finish him off.

Matt pressed a kiss to her forehead, begging her not to die as Nobu’s men came after him. Suddenly, gunshots rang out around them and ninjas dropped. Matt was focused on Nobu as Frank took out the rest. The two went back and forth for a few minutes before Matt finally hit him hard enough, shoving Nobu over the roof.

She looked weakly towards the sounds, grinning to herself as she closed her eyes. Her mind filled with the happiest things she could think of, anything to numb the pain in her chest, as her hands wrapped around the arrow. Then she yanked it out with a loud scream. Matt looked to her, eyes wide as she sat up slowly. Her hands clutched the bloody arrow with a half dazed look on her face.

He ran to her once more, dropping to his knees beside her as he pressed his hands over her wound. “Why would you do that?” He demanded.

“Because it hurt,” she explained simply, looking up at him with half lidded eyes.

He leaned in, listening carefully to her heart. She breathed heavily, but it was even. Nothing seemed to be punctured as he listened to her. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he pulled her into his lap.

“It didn’t hit your heart.”

“I figured, since I’m alive.”

“You’re bleeding on a rooftop and are still being a smartass?” He asked, brushing her hair out of her face as he looked down at her. Tears welled in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t mask my pain in shitty commentary,” she reminded him, closing her eyes. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“What you said earlier,” she explained, sighing as he pressed his hand into her chest still. “That it’s just…it’s you and me now.”

He nodded, smiling down at her. “Every word of it. I meant it all.”

“Good,” she smiled, opening her eyes to look up at him. “Because you have so much time to make up for.”

*****

She stood barefoot in the kitchen, wearing one of Matt’s shirts, as she went through the fridge.

“Did you just stop grocery shopping when I left or what?”

“Kind of, actually,” he admitted as she pulled out a beer and string cheese. “You should be resting.”

She waved him off as she moved back to sit on the couch next to him again. It was a new beginning; a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks again. In the week since the rooftop fight with Nobu, she had returned home as if she had never left. Her things returned slowly, her presence lifting the apartment back into the feeling of home once more.

If Matt was true to his word, this would be their life finally. Normal, simple.

Happy.

———

Series Masterlist

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @thebisexual-disaster @chims-kookies @ferxaniti @heybabyshae @notalxx @gothicxbarbie @dark-night-sky-99 @blacxk-moony @celestialissues @pinkybee926 @bex-tk1 @jasontoddthezombie @killthebutt4fly @softieekayy @user897sblog @cbloodmarch @ammiddlechild @venusriver @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @yikes-buddy @buckyspetal @baconlover001 @flimsysquid @reh-llik @messagesinthesky @dreamypanda @happyfern2 @svft-cas @andiforgetaboutyoulongenoughh @deafeningnightcollection-things @milf-murdock

[accipio]

“I would like it. Very much.” For some reason, he gets a vague inkling of an idea that they’re talking about more than just texting lessons. A lot more.

Cullen’s staring is the farthest thing from subtle. My eyes are up here, he almost teases, lip twitching with amusement. He stops himself, though. He knows that if he calls attention to it, Cullen will stop, probably flush a medically concerning shade of red and stammer out a mortified apology. As charming as that would be, the last thing he wants is for Cullen to stop looking at him like he wants to devour him. Every well-honed instinct tells him that a templar’s attention is an unequivocally bad thing—attention means scrutiny, and scrutiny means a bunch of armored thugs showing up at your door in the middle of the night to drag you off to a Circle—but Maker help him, he wants it, wants Cullen to see him, to desire him, to forget everything but him. He could live on nothing but that damn templar’s attention, to the Void with food and water.

He watches, powerless to help, as Cullen visibly struggles with something, fear plain on his face. Hawke follows his gaze to the phylactery on his palm. Suddenly he’s back at the Hanged Man, motioning for the barman to top off the drink he’d just bought for a freckle-faced Knight-Corporal. The boy (Bran? Bronn?) leans in conspiratorially, his tongue loosened by the combination of free booze and a bit of less-than-subtle flattery from Serah Hawke, Renowned Mercenary. They say blood mages nabbed the Knight-Captain. Made him their plaything. Knight-Commander calls that a 'false and pernicious rumor.' Any recruit caught repeating it gets a week of latrine duty. ‘Cept our quartermaster’s one of you doglords, too, and he says the only reason Cullen ain’t some maleficar’s puppet right now is ‘cause the Wardens swooped in and saved his arse.

Hawke wonders how he could have been so stupid. He should have known better than to have sprung the phylactery on Cullen like this. No templar would react positively to the sight of their blood in the possession of a mage, and a templar with Cullen’s history… Well. A leaden ball of guilt forms in the pit of his stomach, and he wonders what traumatic memories he’s just inadvertently brought to the fore.

He expects Cullen to ask him to return the phylactery, or perhaps tell him that their friendship (or whatever it’s turned into) can’t continue. Too much baggage there, too much pain. Mages and templars. Put them together, and you’ve got a tragedy in the making.

Except he doesn’t. What he does instead is wrench Hawke’s whole life off its hinges. Again. An impossible wish, nurtured in secret like the shameful thing it was, thunders suddenly and violently into the realm of the possible. What a rare gift it is, he thinks, to be granted everything you both desire and fear. A wonderful, terrifying, dizzying gift.

“It—it was real?” The spell is proof enough. The phylactery shines like a miniature star in Cullen’s hand, pointing the way back to him with more surety than any compass. “Maker, that means—you were there. Really there. With me.” The kiss. Andraste’s ass, the kiss. It’s now his turn to flush, beset by the memory of rough stubble and soft skin against his lips.

Mages and templars, indeed. 

Cullen’s tears break him out of his trance and spur him to action. If there’s one thing Garrett Hawke won’t do, it’s stand idly by while someone he cares about is in pain. He folds Cullen into his arms—no easy thing, considering they’re roughly the same size—and does his damnedest to hug him to death. 

“You already have me, you fool,” he whispers, his beard brushing against the shell of Cullen’s ear. “Whatever you did, whatever hate once ruled you, you’re building something better now. Build it by my side. I want you, Cullen. Not some fairytale knight with a spotless conscience. Not—” His voice catches. “Not that creature we saw in the Gallows Courtyard. You.”

"I found her in Halamshiral," Cullen explains as his blunt nails scratch behind Birdie's ears, watching her still and bark appreciatively at his petting. "Couldn't leave a fellow Fereldan stranded in Orlais." He then looks up, breath caught in his throat at the sight greeting him.

His fingertips itch with the desire to map that dark forest atop Hawke's chest, imagining the hairs to be soft as bird's down. A complicated knot of impulse and desire tighten in his chest, turning his words staccato, "I—I mean—if you'd like—it wouldn't be a bother—" Cullen's traitorous eyes cannot stop focusing onto those naked, well-defined pectorals, then his damned mouth chooses to swallow, loudly, impossible to excuse away.

The Mantle of the Champion. Bombastic name for what was armor designed in the typical Marcher style, the gorget itself a piece someone could've swiped from the various sheets of metal decorating the many bleached walls of Kirkwall. But while the other templars made fun of the book shelf-esque shape of the piece, Cullen couldn't get the image of tanned, sigil-covered biceps out of his mind. That the sigil decorating Hawke's toned arms looked like blood writing, which meant it could be blood magic, that it matched that damnable streak of red across Hawke's nose, only made it all the more unforgettable.

Blood. It always comes back to blood. His feels like it's boiling him from the inside out, a quiet gasp escaping his lips as Hawke's pinkie brushes against his left pectoral. And soon enough there's going to be more, crimson splattering across both of their chests as Hawke reclaims what's his, shatters this nascent link out of existence. It should scare him, really, that a mage has access to blood, the walls of Kinloch Hold closing in on him once more.

But they never come. Instead there's the barest of brushes against chest hair—his chest hair—and it makes Cullen woozy. Sweet Maker, this is a juvenile reaction. He's no blushing maiden, not completely devoid of experiences in this department.

And yet.

And yet.

"Somehow," Cullen repeats, disliking the bitter taste of the word in his mouth. "Hawke..."

Because it's not true. The twin of the phylactery dangling from his neck now rests on Hawke's hand, sudden and real, undeniable. "Hawke, I—" A noise of frustration escapes him, knowing he doesn't have the capacity to explain the complex emotions warring inside his heart. But Cullen has to try. Has to. He's nauseatingly, utterly afraid, but nothing worth doing is without courage. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"I—this morning, the dream," Cullen rubs at the tip of his nose, buying some time as he reaches past the pall of fear, "I woke up crying because I thought the demons were—" His eyes sting again, but Birdie's bunting her muscular head against his knee helps to ground him, "—I thought the demons were taunting me with what I could never have. Again. Templars and," he laughs nervously, a bit ashamed but also amused, "Mages, as always."

The earlier days of the Inquisition, when Cullen still thought mages should be carefully watched for their own safety, when the horrors of the red templars hadn't made a fool of him yet. But even then few dared calling him out, his tenure in Kirkwall casting long shadows, the alliance between the mages of Redcliffe and the rest of the army, many of them ex-templars, newly formed thus volatile. No need to poke the Inquisition's lion, he heard from one recruit, and it upset and disappointed Cullen in equal measure.

All except one, a mage who'd never be cowed by trifles such as the status quo—Dorian Pavus, altus of Tevinter. Because he was Tevine the cultural deference towards templars wasn't there, so Dorian cared not to spare Cullen's feelings amidst their chess games. Stubborn to a fault, Dorian had not missed a single chance to point out Cullen's logical fallacies, his hypocrisies, when it came to the plight of southern mages. How his fear of mages, while understandable, could not be a thorn in the Inquisition's side. How Cullen was better than that, and how a vow to protect others need not mean caging them, and instead working alongside them, shoulder to shoulder, as equals.

Now, Cullen realizes, that self-same stubborn, unapologetic streak reminded him of another mage in another city, which is why he allowed—no, welcomed—Dorian needling him.

("Do you think he'll figure it out, that he has a type?" the nightmare Samson had asked, mocking. It hadn't made sense then but it makes perfect sense now, a shaft of sunlight illuminating darkened, forgotten corners of Cullen's suppressed, atrophied desire.)

"You. It was you, Garrett. I thought the demons were reminding me I can't have you, no matter how much I think I've changed, because I don't deserve you. Because I hurt you and I hurt so many people like you, and this is my penance. To forever be taunted by what—who—I want the most, never to hold them."

With a choked sob Cullen's fingers tighten upon his phylactery, calling onto the magic there. Sure enough, it points back to its owner, gentle light escaping the spaces between his fingers.

It was real, wasn't it? The phylactery proves it. But Cullen isn't sure what's worse—to have known and lost, or to have never known at all. He stands there, heart on his sleeve and bleeding, the vulnerability so disquieting it makes him shake subtly as if in the throes of lyrium withdrawal, as the phylactery vibrating, caged inside his hand.

[yoongsisbae]

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea - Chapter 3

BTS fantasy AU. OT7 x reader. werewolf!Namjoon x werewolf!Hoseok x werewolf!Jungkook x siren!Yoongi x vampire!Jimin x vampire!Jin x whatis?Taehyung. This is the "vampire chapter" :'D

Thank you for all the love on this random nightmarish story lol. This extra update is for all the readers who made it my most popular post! Thank you! <3 Also this is my contribution to the start of the spooky season :D

Warnings: Hi, remember when I said this was horror? This chapter in particular is pretty horrific, you have been warned! blood, fighting between m/w, blood, graphic violence, blood, imprisonment, blood, blood, blood, minor character death, vampires doing vampire things including noncon blood drinking, human imprisonment, mind manipulation, stockholm syndrome, dubious consent, slut shaming, anal, degradation, foursome, orgasm control, orgasm denial, what a ride, you must be over 18 to ride this ride, scary scary scary

Word Count: 22k

---

“Scared, y/n?” Jimin’s face sends you a wicked smile.

You look back and forth between the men, uttering an unconvincing “No.”

Seokjin speaks again, “You should be.”

---

‘So did you get the answers you are looking for?’ You sit up, jolted out of your sleep, Hoseok’s words echoed softly in your mind.

Seokjin moved so fast, his striking face in front of you in an instant, his red eyes centimeters from yours, delicate lips curving into a smile over his fangs as water splayed around where he stood. That was the last thing you remember.

He smiled down at you sweetly and held you by the neck, putting pressure on your vein until you passed out. It all happened so fast your scream remained halted until this moment. The response came out of you abruptly, as fleeting as the memory.

And now where the hell were you? It looked like the room of an old bed and breakfast; large bed, writing desk, love seat, high windows; but to your captors the breakfast on the menu was you.

The first thing you notice is how the curtains are drawn together blocking the sunlight, but you know it’s there, just out of reach, as evidenced by the small line of light that trails its top edge. The room you found yourself in was dark, from the wallpaper to the furniture, the stillness unsettling, you listened as your own rapid breathing filled the silence.

You were seated right in the middle of a king size bed. They left you atop the cleanly-made white bed sheets, a treat placed in the center of a platter. You shiver, your clothes still remained damp from the night before, cold and stuck to your skin. That is why you shiver, you tell yourself, because you don’t hear them, but you feel them...watching you...

You build up enough courage to scan the room, and that’s when you see two pairs of red orbs staring back at you from the corners’ shadows, glowing in the darkness. Eyes of beasts, watching you, studying you.

You try not to react, not show your captors how scared you are, but every mechanism in your body betrays you, and the pair immediately pick up on your rapidly beating heart, the sweat on your brows, your unsteady breathing-

“Good morning, y/n,” Seokjin says, walking out of the shadows. Jimin stays hidden, but you can hear his soft laughter.

Those answers you wanted, where are they?

Seokjin slowly moves to the edge of the bed. “It seems like our friends have taken quite an interest with you and I want to find out why. Is that okay?”

You purse your lips, keeping your eyes trained on the thin strip of light showing at the top of the window curtains. You sit in silence. Has your breathing always been this loud? The shaking of Seokjin’s legs, a sign of his growing impatience, rattles the bed and your resolve.

He clasps his hands together, finally saying “If you don’t want to speak to me,” he leans in slightly and whispers the rest, “I can always let Jimin pry information out of you, but I don’t think you’d appreciate that very much.”

The pounding of your heart and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach makes you feel like you’re going to become sick at any minute, but you manage to form a coherent sentence to ask him, “What do you want to know?”

“First, I want your permission to find out,” he speaks softly, placing a gentle hand on your calf, but you flinch away anyways. That’s a loaded question if you ever heard one. You wonder if it’s all an act, the same way Jimin fooled you. You stay silent.

Seokjin sighs again, looking over his shoulder, “Jimin?”

“No!” you yell. “Not Jimin! You...you, okay I give you permission.”

“Thank you, y/n.” He smiles, “I’ll be gentle.”

You yelp. Seokjin’s cold hand travels down your leg, wraps around your ankle and pulls you down the bed closer to his body, and in an instant his lean frame is hovering over yours. This close, his beauty is intimidating alone, but his eyes feel like they are piercing through you, digging inside, seeing all the ugly secrets you try to hide from even yourself, you feel like you could catch fire the way his gaze burns you.

He holds you down loosely by the neck, fingers searching for a pulsing vein, eyes focused on you with the concentration of a doctor performing surgery. Seokjin wipes away the tears that begin spilling from your eyes and smirks, “Don’t cry Dove, I promise this time will be the least pain you’ll experience from now on.” His words are devoid of any real sympathy, a false comfort, a looming warning.

You consider fighting back, but in this position there is no way you would be able to reach for your dagger (hidden away in a secret pocket in the front of your corset) without Seokjin stopping you, and even if you were lucky enough, there’s still Jimin, waiting in the shadows.

So you choose to wait, and try to find comfort in Seokjin’s twisted words. It could be worse. A tiny voice inside you reminds you it will become worse. You’ll just have to escape before then. You take a deep steadying breath, preparing yourself.

Don’t cry.

Seokjin’s lips latch onto your neck, soft and full as he rolls his tongue harshly over your pulse point. Goosebumps bloom across your body, and you try to focus on the sunlight rather than the vampire above you and his overwhelming aura, that sliver of light that you pray won’t dim.

This could be worse. This could be more painful. This could be Jimin.

Seokjin can feel the jumping of your pulse against his tongue. The vampire wants to know your story, what is it about you that riled Jimin up more than he’s ever seen him. But with your sweet scent enveloping him and the cocktail of emotions Seokjin’s keen senses could smell: fear and anger and mounting arousal, you smelled better to him than the finest wine and he can’t stop himself from teasing you a little longer, drink it in just a bit more and savor the moment.

Seokjin still understood the importance of ‘living’ in the present, he enjoyed taking his time with things. Others would have gone mad by now with the infinite amount of time, but not Seokjin, he used it to his advantage. Your warm body, your addicting smell, the softness and saltiness of your skin, the shifts in your breathing, Seokjin took his time to savor the gifts of life that he still missed.

You try not to react to his sensual touches, tensing your body under him, until you feel two sharp pricks on the surface of your skin. Your reaction is involuntary, you grip the bedsheets with your fists and let out a soft cry, moving against him. His bite hurt for only a second, like a pin prick, but Seokjin in his precision had nicked an artery for optimum bloodshed. With each gasp of breath you take, with each pounding beat of your heart, you feel your blood drain as it escapes the punctures in your neck and into Seokjin’s waiting mouth.

Seokjin groans against your skin, sending fire through your veins, pressing himself harder into your body. The vampire is better at keeping his physical responses to blood drinking at bay than Jimin, but he hasn’t had a new taste in awhile, and you’re so responsive.

When he pulls away from you you reach to cover your neck and stop the blood, a reflex in an attempt to save your own life, but Seokjin grabs your wrists before you can, pinning you to the bed, studying, his red gaze challenging you.

You gasp as the blood rushes out down your neck, over the sheets, seeping into your clothes. ‘They’ll underestimate you...’ Yoongi’s words replay in your mind and you stay still. No matter how much you want to fight back, this time you have to be smarter, you have to believe in Yoongi’s words.

Jimin has stayed quiet for this long, staying in the shadows, but your whimpers and grunts of pain are music to Jimin’s ears, the blood pouring from your body like an offering to him. His groans can be heard from the shadows.

He holds himself back for now, waiting for his turn. Jimin wonders where all that fight went, he had expected a show, for you to thrash away from the older vampire like you did the merman. He can’t help but feel a little disappointed. When it’s his turn, he thinks, you’ll become more entertaining then.

You watched in silence as Seokjin licked his lips clean of your blood. The red liquid that he had stolen from you, that was now steadily seeping from your wound and covering the white bedsheets underneath you, like a Rorschach picture mapping your life. “You’re strong,” he grins, speaking too tenderly for the brutality he was inflicting. “Stop fighting and it will end sooner, y/n. Let me into your mind.”

What does that even mean?! In your blood loss the tips of your fingers begin to feel cold like your captor’s, your head pounds and your vision blurs with each passing moment as the blood drains from your artery, you don’t want to give in, but if it will end this torture...

You shut your eyes tightly, and turn your head to expose your bleeding neck further to the monster above you. When Seokjin lowers his lips to your neck, you try to think of sweet Jungkook instead, his warm body instead of Seokjin’s cold one. You didn’t dare wish to be with him again, you didn’t dare think you made a mistake, that you should have stayed. Now all you can do is hope you can save him and yourself from this horrible island. Jungkook doesn’t deserve to be imprisoned with the likes of them.

Seokjin drinks the warm liquid pouring from your throat. You listen to him gulping down your blood, How much longer, until he finds what he’s looking for? You feel your fight escape you with each swallow, you feel yourself slipping away. It reminds you of drowning, it reminds you of Yoongi and how he kissed life into you instead, but this was the kiss of death.

‘Yoongi,’ you close your eyes and think of him. And then you felt it, the pull inside your mind. Your current circumstance falls away in shambles, your memories are pulled out of you through the cracks, the images race through your mind as Seokjin bears witness to it all.

---

Yoongi sits at the table, hair and clothes dry, turning his head to see you awake.

The relief that softens his features as he’s walking to your side.

The delicate way he places the hairpiece back in its place.

The way his eyes melt at your words.

Why hadn’t you seen it before? Seokjin saw it all. The way Yoongi screams at you, the rage and embarrassment in his eyes as he tells you how much he can’t stand you, the way he licks his lips when you yell back. His eyes studying you when you yank him closer, full of anger and full of-

You weakly push against Seokjin, you don’t want to remember, you don’t want to miss him. You can’t stop it, you can’t stop the memories flooding through your system.

You suddenly remember Jungkook’s sparkling round eyes watching you, wanting you, the crinkle of his nose when he laughs, the pink flush on the edges of his ears when you talk to him, the muscles of his arms flexing as he cages you under him, his deep groaning in your ear, the vein in his neck when he pushes into your wet heat, the truth in his voice when he says he’ll protect you.

You feel Seokjin’s hands travel down your body the same way you remembered Jungkook. You curse him in your mind, but your body couldn’t tell the difference, your stomach tightens and you’re no longer cold, warmth spreads over you to the tips of your toes.

You want to scream, scream for Jungkook, but you’re frozen, lost in your own thoughts, confused by your senses. Jungkook feels as real as Seokjin, but you know he’s not really there, no matter how much you wanted it to be true.

You remember Hoseok’s harsh looks, the growing anger in his eyes, the hurt in his eyes, the pain in his eyes, the pain still present in his eyes even in his wolf form when he howls and cries at you. He’s begging you to stay, he’s telling you he can’t bear to lose someone again. How could you leave them? Why can’t they be enough for you? Hoseok will treat you better, if you just stay with him, please. You understand his barks and howls now, because Seokjin understands. Tears well up in your eyes and you try to move away, but Seokjin is too solid, too powerful, and unyielding in his search.

Namjoon’s eyes are on you as you eat next to his brothers at dinner, filled with nothing but warmth and happiness. Those brown eyes, you miss them. You feel dizzy and helpless, you can’t take it anymore. You grab a fistful of Seokjin’s hair to try to pull him off of you.

“What have you done to Jimin? What have you done?!” Namjoon’s voice roars in your memory. But it’s not any memory you remember having. Before you realize what you are doing, your hands hold on tightly to Seokjin’s hair, pulling him closer and holding him to you so you can see more.

---

“It-It wasn’t me...” The tall vampire is covered in blood. Some of it is Jimin’s blood, yes, but the majority of blood that drips down his face and hands, that covers his clothes, belongs to five other men. Dead men. Men who beat the broken man in his arms to the brink of death.

Seokjin found his dear friend screaming in pain. He saw them over Jimin’s bleeding body, blood Seokjin treasured just as much as he treasured his bond with the compassionate and playful man. His friend, Jimin, who wailed for Seokin, for Namjoon, for Hoseok, for Taehyung, for anyone to help him, while his bones cracked, lying in the dirt, choking on his own blood, precious blood.

Seokjin explained to Namjoon when he saw them laughing, like hyenas over a carcass, spitting hateful slurs down at Jimin, he couldn’t control himself. Seokjin tore them apart one by one. He chased each one down like the pathetic animals they were, and tore the limbs that touched his dear friend straight from their bodies.

Seokjin had been weak, he had become too accustomed to the harmonious life he and Namjoon had created for themselves. Had it been decades before, he would have endured, but living with the pack had softened him too much and he couldn’t stand the pain of losing Jimin, so when he found a weak pulse he gave Jimin as much of his venomous blood as he could.

Namjoon simply nods at the information, his weary eyes examining his two friends, friends who were like family to him. He didn’t want to lose Jimin either. “We need to take him somewhere safe...to the island, before he wakes up,” Namjoon places a hand on the trembling vampire’s shoulder.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” the vampire’s voice shakes, he notices the cuts on Jimin’s face and body have yet to heal themselves.

“That’s not something you should be worried about,” Namjoon runs his hand through Jimin’s tangled hair, gently placing the dark strands back into place, his eyes filling with tears, “it’s when he wakes up, we need to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Seokjin nods weakly.

“Go now. I’ll clean up the mess, brother.”

Your hands fall, the blood loss making you too weak to grip onto Seokjin’s hair. Seokjin had taken more blood than he intended, lost in his own memories.

The vampire pulls away from you, even as the edges of your vision blurs, you see his eyes, glowing red and glassy with unshed tears, staring at you with a mixture of pain and surprise. He shakes away his bewilderment and rips into the flesh of his wrist, placing the cut across your lips as you can no longer hold consciousness.

---

When you wake again it’s night time, the light behind the curtains has left you.

Your body aches. You run your fingers along your neck, searching for the punctures, and you can only feel smooth skin crusted in dried blood. Your head feels like it’s splitting. You groan in pain.

You see Jimin before you hear him, and even then you’re not sure if your brain created the sounds to ease your mind as he stalks closer to your waking form.

“Finally! Now what could you have possibly done to Jin?” Jimin says, contemplating the reason his friend holed himself up in his office, refusing to speak to Jimin or even look at him.

He jumps on the bed, shaking your already pounding head. “He refuses to let me bite you,” he whines, “Explain now, pet.” Jimin prods you with his foot. “Explain what memory of yours Seokjin pulled.”

You just groan back, turning away from Jimin, burying your head into the cold pillows of your bed, one of the few things not soaked in your blood. Everything is so cold you can’t stand it. Jimin places a hand on your shoulder to make you face him. Cold fingers touch your skin, everything is cold.

“Don’t touch me!” you pull away from him, yelling.

Your face stings. Jimin had slapped you hard, you come to the realization only after the fact, the skin he touched burns hot. It makes you laugh, because you wanted warmth, didn’t you?

Jimin’s eyes narrow on you, “Say that again, I dare you.”

You bite back tears and ask, “What the fuck happened to you?!”

“So you’re back to being a disrespectful brat. You’re not on the same level as me, human. Learn to behave.”

“No! What happened to you to make you so heartless? What changed you?” How did the bleeding man you saw Namjoon cry over in Seokjin’s memories become this monster? He was human at one point too, you wouldn’t have believed it if you didn’t see it for yourself.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “Don’t act like you know anything about me, bitch.”

You take a deep breath trying to calm your temper. Not only had you seen Seokjin’s memories, you had felt his emotions. His pain lingers in you still, beside the fear and hatred you feel, you look at Jimin and feel...sorry for him. You have to look down, the emotions are too much and too overwhelming. It was easier when all you knew was the monster before you. Jimin takes your silence as obedience instead.

“Now can you be a good little pet and answer my question,” he says, tapping you on the head hard enough to make your headache roar back to life. You flinch and search the eyes of the man before you. Or rather the shell of a man, you think bitterly.

And what a beautiful shell it is. Jimin is stunning, bright white hair pulled away and styled so you can see the delicate features of his face. He holds himself gracefully, like a dancer, his elegant figure hiding his true strength. You wonder what he was like before turning into a monster, what kind of man was he? Someone whom Namjoon cared for.

“It wasn’t my memory...you. I saw you…” You whisper, knowing Jimin’s sharp senses can hear you loud and clear, “I saw Seokjin turn you.” Silence falls over the room again, a silence so deafening you start to hear the pounding in your head becoming louder.

The vampire stares at you, soft features stoic. He looked lost in thought, you pictured his face full of cuts, bloody lip, black eye, human, and Seokjin so unsure, scared, worried, trembling, so unlike themselves now.

“How did he turn me?” It surprised you how genuine Jimin’s question sounded. Did he really not know?

You keep your mouth shut, you don’t think it would be wise on your part to tell him. Jimin seems like the type to shoot the messenger. Unfortunately, unlike Seokjin, Jimin had little to no patience. His expression changes like lightning, full of anger. He pulls you by the hair dragging you off the bed and onto the floor.

The vampire crouches over you and grabs your face, holding you down to the wood floor, pressing his sharp nails into the skin of your cheeks making you yell.

“Ahh there’s your voice! Tell me.”

“Why don’t you ask Seokjin?!”

“But I rather you just do as I say,” he says playfully, as his fingers dig harder into your skin, cutting the flesh and drawing blood.

“Why don’t you just bite me, then?!” You spit the words out through clenched teeth.

You watch the vampire lick his lower bottom lip, thinking it over briefly as he pulls your face closer to his, you struggle against his painful grip. “How impetuous...” he watches you squirm like an insect stuck in glue. “You’re rather dumb, aren’t you?”

Should you reach for your dagger now? Should you try to kill Jimin?

Every time you thought about hurting him, you remembered Seokjin’s crying face, and you wanted to cry as well, what was happening to you?

“Jimin, leave us.” Jin stands in the doorway to your room.

Jimin stands up in a huff, letting you go. You fall back onto the hardwood floor. He balances on his heels, ignoring you and scrutinizing Seokjin. He wanted to question the older vampire, he has so many questions now, but decides against it. What does it matter anyways? The idea of being a weak and powerless human revolts him. “I’m getting impatient,” he says before he leaves, slamming the door and making you jump.

“T-thank y-you.” You try to calm your breathing.

Seokjin looks at you with a frown, extending his hand out to you. You hesitate and place your hand in his and he easily lifts you to your feet. You watch the older vampire walk slowly around the room, drawing his fingers along the furniture he passes. You stand awkwardly, you don’t think making a run for it would gain you any favors right now.

“I’m hungry,” Seokjin says. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, continuing to meander around the room, waiting for your response.

You clench your jaw. So this is what you’ve been reduced to, you think, a late night snack. “Are you going to just keep me trapped in this room? I’m hungry too, I haven’t eaten anything-”

“Dinner's already passed. Before I let you go roaming around, I need to make sure you’re going to behave yourself, do you understand?”

No, you don’t understand at all. It sounds like he’s going to starve you into subservience, and you have to get out of this room, you have to find the portal.

“I will do as you say...please...” you walk over to where he’s standing, trying your best to seem meek. “I’m starving,” you reason, “I’m sure you know how it feels to hunger for something” you say, turning your head to stare at the windows, curtains now open to the night sky, extending your neck to the vampire. His eyes are pulled to your attention, following the lines of your shoulder. You roll your neck, loosening the stiff muscles, moving close enough to him that your chest bumps into his. You look up into Seokjin’s eyes through your lashes, “I-I will behave.”

Seokjin smiles, bringing his head down into the curve of your neck, lips skirting across the skin. Your fingers reach up to caress the back of his head. You can see the pair of you in the bedroom mirror. Another myth proven wrong, you think, as you study your seduction, how his lean frame bends closer to yours, his arms wrapping around the lower part of your back.

In truth, Seokjin wasn’t hungry. He had taken more than enough blood from you this morning already, but Seokjin wanted to see if lightning could strike twice. Never had the pull been so strong for him that a human had been able to enter his memories, not even when Jimin was alive. He needed to learn more.

Seokjin licks your face, tongue tracing the cuts Jimin’s nails left behind. You hold your breath, trying to act like you enjoyed it. You hated it, you wished you could stick Yoongi’s dagger into Seokjin’s cold dead heart and be done with it already.

Seokjin trails kisses back to the place he bit you before. He keeps kissing your sensitive skin until his lips reach your ear and he whispers, “I’m not Jungkook, little Dove, you’ll have to do better than that.”

You stumble backwards but it’s too late, Seokjin already has you in his clutches.

He pulls you into a tight embrace, walking you backward even more. His bite is precise, you suspect perfectly precise to where he bit you this morning. Your arms are locked tightly in between your bodies as he holds you to him.

Thunder roars in your memory, you feel yourself drowning. Your muscles ached, your lungs burned. You feel Yoongi’s hand on your ankle, pulling down, hand on your waist, pulling down, hand on your neck, pulling you closer, his lips on your lips-

You cry and yell against Seokjin’s grasp. Cold turns to warmth as you see Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok laughing around the firepit, and Seokjin, and Jimin, laughing too. Yoongi sits with a calm expression on his face, his lips curved upward, and a man you don’t recognize sits next to him-

Seokjin yanks his mouth away from you and you fall backward, back hitting the bed while you struggle to breath. You cover the holes on your neck with your palm to stop the rushing blood.

“How?” is all Seokjin can say, shaken by the happy memory that even he had forgotten about.

You stare up at the high ceiling dazed and too weak to move, “Do I...” you can feel the blood spill between the gaps of your fingers, “look...” you gasp, “like a vampire expert...to you?”

Seokjin moves to the window, his back to you. He watches the waning moon and lets his mind wander to his old friends. If they were off the island, he could see a scenario where you and he would meet at a bar, laugh over drinks, but the ending would always be the same. “You look,” he looks over his shoulder at you, “like you could use a drink,” his lips curving into a half smile.

“Are you,” you gasp, “offering?”

He walks over to you slowly, bringing his wrist to his mouth, and then extends the sliced skin to your mouth, waiting expectantly.

You take his offering bitterly, gulping down the metallic liquid, the wounds burn like fire as they heal over. The pain is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. You shut your eyes tightly, you want to cry, or scream, but like Namjoon said, no one can help you here. You feel fingers intertwine with your bloody fingers, pulling your bloodied hand away as you weakly protest. The room spins, even if your wounds are healed, your blood is still gone and you’re feeling the effects of two feedings.

Seokjin brings your hand to his lips and licks away the blood, tongue circling your fingers. “This can hurt or it can feel good,” he says slowly.

You laugh, delirious from hunger and blood loss. “I wonder, that memory,” you gasp, still laughing, “does it bother you to be reminded of your humanity? Does it hurt you?”

You probably shouldn’t have said that, but the blood loss is doing funny things to you, or maybe you just really wanted to get a reaction from the guarded man, no, guarded vampire.

If your accusation angered Seokjin he didn’t show it with any emotion, instead he sighed and bent over you, biting down hard on your shoulder. The searing pain makes you scream. You cry out, not expecting the sharp and throbbing kind of ache from his bite as Seokjin’s teeth stayed deep in your flesh.

Seokjin pulls another memory out of you, and you curse your luck in remembering Jungkook again, remembering his tanned and muscled body next to yours. Jungkook kissing your knuckles and telling you how he’s yours now. Jungkook kissing down your body. His head between your legs, his mouth feverishly licking at your folds. The more you try not to think about him the stronger the memories feel. The pain in your shoulder dulls as your legs tighten around the vampire's sides.

Perhaps it was your bloodloss mixed with Seokjin’s bloodlust seeping into your consciousness, the memory of Jungkook’s length buried deep inside you and feeling of Seokjin’s growing bulge pressed against your stomach makes your head spin and you just want to feel more. You hear Namjoon’s deep authoritative voice whispering dirty things in your ear, it makes you shudder, a moan escapes your throat-

Seokjin pulls away from you abruptly at that, his eyes are deep red, so dark they look black. He watches as your body twitch in pain, as he focuses on calming the storm of human emotions, your emotions, running through him, as he tries to forget the compromising memory of his old friend. He bites down on his bottom lip until he draws blood, his blood mixing with your own blood in his mouth, and he presses his lips on yours.

You realized how passionate Yoongi’s kisses were compared to Seokjin’s. The merman was distant, but his actions were full of feeling, whether they be good or bad. Seokjin was cold in body and mind, a hard shell, you felt like you were kissing a statue as you choked on his blood, the liquid metallic and sweet.

You can feel the punctures in your skin closing, it hurts so much worse than when he bit you, you distract yourself by licking into his mouth, feeling his tongue against yours.

Seokjin jumps off of you the second your wounds are healed and leaves without saying a word. You can hear the door lock in your daze.

You scoff, what was up with him, you wonder, dining and dashing like that. The blood loss has you quickly falling asleep despite wanting to use the time alone to plan your escape.

---

They both leave you alone all day until night again. You wake up hungry and weak. When Seokjin wordlessly stalks towards you that night you tell him so.

“I still can’t trust you to play well with others.”

“I need food! I need to eat! I am not a goddamn vampire like you! I can’t survive off your blood!” You throw your pillow at him. Should you have done that? Probably not, but you’re too hungry to care.

Seokjin pauses, looks at the floor where the pillow lays at his feet after coming in contact with his chest. “I’ll bring you food later tonight, now lie down, I’m hungry too.”

Ugh.

---

There were so very little things now that intrigued Seokjin, and this connection had become a mystery he wanted to solve. The strength of his pull on you was so intense it had become almost addicting to feel for Seokjin.

A vampire's pull had always been one-sided, but this pull acted like a wave, crashing onto the shore of your consciousness, pulling back and forth, dragging his memories along the current too.

Promised food, you comply, lying down against your better judgement. You glare at him as he lies next to you, and he smooths your furrowed features with his fingers instead of matching your anger. It makes you feel self conscious, the way he watches you with searching eyes. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

“So demanding, do you want me to bite you that badly?”

Is he teasing you? “No. I don’t. At all!”

“Okay then.” he lies back down, his arms underneath his head.

You sit up to look down at him. “Is this a joke?”

“I’ll wait, I don’t mind. I can wait for days, the question is can you?”

If you tried to stab him now he would definitely be able to stop you. Too bad. “I think I can’t stand you.”

“You barely know me!”

“I’ve seen enough,” you scoff.

“I’ve lived a long time,” Seokjin says, serious again, “you don’t care to see more? Who I really am?”

“Who are you?”

“Let me bite you and find out,” he winks.

'Well, he seems to be in a better mood,' you think. You wonder why he is even bothering to ask you, you’re his prisoner, after all. “So this is not just about feeding anymore?”

“I’m a vampire, of course it is.”

You sigh, you’re hungry and tired from blood loss. “Okay, bite me, but choose some place else,” you rub the sensitive spot on your neck and shiver. “NOT THERE!”

Seokjin stops pushing your legs open. “But there is an artery in your leg-”

Your face goes hot, you shove your wrist in his face. “Here then!” He sighs and lies back down again, pulling you over his body easily. You sit awkwardly against his lap as you watch his fangs prick your inner wrist. The blood loss this time wasn’t so bad, but it still made your weak body sway, your free hand bracing yourself against his chest.

He does the same thing to you again, pulls memories of your life. You saw memories from before the boat wreck to your childhood, and you saw glimpses of Seokjin’s life as well. You learned at one point in his very long life he stopped being a complete monster and became a part time bartender.

For decades he moved from taverns, to pubs, to bars. The perfect career, and as his beautiful looks were admired everywhere he went, he was never short of meal options. You woke in the morning and you laid on clean sheets, there was water for you and bread and butter and jam, an apricot and an apple, food not found on an island. The portal.

Tonight. This night you will be ready for Seokjin. You quickly realized you weren’t just remembering with Seokjin, you were feeling, and he was feeling too. If you could distract him well enough with a memory, you think you’d be able to escape!

---

Tonight Jimin walks into your room instead.

“Where’s Seokjin?”

“You didn’t miss me?” He holds a pear in his hand, throwing it up in the air and catching it easily. “He is busy, the others were feeling neglected by him-”

“There are others? Other humans?!”

Jimin smirks at your wide eyes. “Yes, pet, did you think you were special?” You swallow, keeping your questions to yourself. So Seokjin really meant it when he talked about playing well with others. Who were they and how long have they been here? Could some of them be your friends? Maybe you weren’t the only survivor on your boat! More humans, more people to help you fight against Seokjin and Jimin, if you could just meet them and somehow convince them...

Jimin heard your accelerating heartbeat, could see the happiness dance across your features. “What ever you are thinking, I suggest against it. Actually, go ahead and try, I haven’t punished anyone in so long.”

“Are you going to bite me or not?”

“Oh, so now you’re eager for it, it’s always the same.”

“Still not allowed, huh? Must suck to be you. Ha! Get it?”

“Do you think you’re being cute? Jin said I can’t bite you, he didn’t say anything about not hurting you.” Jimin throws the pear in the air again, “What? No clever retort?”

“I don’t know about Seokjin,” you speak softly, “but you used to be human, why do you act like this?” You watch as Jimin drops the pear on the ground and steps on the fruit with his feet. You bite your lip. What a waste. You consider pulling out your dagger just for that.

“Being human?” Jimin runs a hand through his hair, “I don’t remember anything about that. I can’t imagine being so weak and foolish.”

“You really don’t remember?” You look at the pear, squished into a pulp. “Can you do what Seokjin does, with the memories?”

“What makes you think I want to learn about your pathetic life?”

“No,” You idiot. You sigh. “But maybe you want to learn about your pathetic life?”

You scream, Jimin’s nails were digging into your skull, a handful of your hair in his fists. “Call me pathetic again,” he threatens lowly.

“Pathetic,” you say bearing your teeth. Jimin smiles, because in that moment you reminded him of someone. He’s going to enjoy breaking the bones of your body and watching your limbs reassemble again. He grabs your forearm, pulling your arm closer to your face. You wince as his grip tightens, struggling against his tight hold on your hair. “Call me pathetic again,” he sings, his eyes sparkling with delight.

You weigh your options in that moment.

“Seokjin!” you scream.

Jimin laughs, tightening his grip even more so you are sure to have bruises, “Do you think he really cares about what happens to you?”

“Jimin was a regular at your bar! Wasn’t he?!” You had seen the younger vampire, only briefly, you barely recognized him with dark hair, but you knew it was Jimin the way you felt your own heart soar when Seokjin glanced at him for the first time.

You screamed louder than you’ve ever heard yourself, making the vampire wince at your volume, because in that moment Jimin snapped the bone in your forearm. “Even if you don’t remember,” you cry, mumbling out the words through your pain, “you were human. Just. Like. Me.”

Jimin grabs your upper arm this time, and squirm in his hold. You start to cry harder despite trying to hold the tears in. The door to your room slams open. Seokjin looks furious when he steps towards the both of you.

“Jimin leave!"

“What?” The white haired vampire loosens his grip, but stands his ground. Seokjin doesn’t speak again, only gives him a look, and Jimin relents, breaking his stare with several blinks and releasing you. The younger vampire can’t hide his emotions as well as Seokjin and you see the hurt twist his beautiful features.

You sit on the ground grimacing in pain, holding your broken arm to your chest. Outside your room you hear the familiar crash of glass and scrape of wood and you suspect Jimin is not taking Seokjin’s orders well. Seokjin looks much more unhinged than you ever recall seeing him and then impassiveness washes over his face again, much to your disappointment.

“He is usually not like this. He can go months without drinking blood, it seems my ban has just made him all the more obsessed with you,” he sighs.

“Greeat,” you wince, “Lift the ban then, might as well.” If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious what would happen if Jimin bit you. Maybe then he wouldn’t despise you so much.

“The ban is not to protect you, naive little dove.” He sits down on the floor next to you. You find the sight comical, Seokjin in an expensive suit sitting on the dusty floor.

You roll your eyes. Of course. “You care a lot about him,” you whisper softly. He nods. You turn to him, “Do you remember why you started caring? Do you think who he is now still acts in the same way that made you care so much for him?”

“You think I’m a fool?” he laughs softly, “I know Jimin’s...lost his way...” You sit in silence as you struggle to take your mind off the pain in your arm. “For us, time, is infinite. This is only a small stretch of time compared to what I’ve been through. Jimin will come back around, I know it.”

“Well I think he’s a lost cause,” you mumble.

“He’s not, no one is...This is going to hurt a lot, if you don’t mind, I can make it quick.” His hand traces your jaw and turns your head to face him, eyes glancing towards your lips.

“Am I going to have to get used to this, you fixing the pain he causes-”

“Am I going to have to get used to you both provoking each other all the time?”

You bite your lip, he started it, it’s not your fault he freaks out over every little thing you say. You change the subject. “Are there really other prisoners here? Other humans like me?”

Seokjin tuts disapprovingly, “House guests, y/n! They can stop being in service to us whenever they want, we provide them all with a choice.”

“Oh, and what are the options, be your personal feeding supply or die?”

“Ahh see, you catch on quickly, and Jimin calls you stupid.”

Your eyes narrow on him, “Not much of a choice there.”

Seokjin leans into you, “it comforts them, when they think they have some control. You know, you would all be at the bottom of the ocean if it weren’t for us.”

You pull your legs closer to your body, it’s hard to look at him, much less listen to the disturbing things he says, “Why are you telling me this? Am I supposed to be grateful?” You shuffle your body, trying to get comfortable despite the throbbing pain of your broken arm.

“Perhaps,” he scrutinizes your body, “At least don’t provoke Jimin. Ready?”

You hum, “Yeah, I’m ready for my medicine, Doctor.”

He looks down, nodding. “No anesthesia for this surgery I’m afraid.”

He motions you closer, bites into his wrist and fills his mouth with his own blood. You’re careful not to jostle your arm too much as you move in front of him. His long fingers hold your head still as he presses his mouth onto yours, feeding you his blood. Even when you scream in pain he holds you to him as your bone readjusts itself and heals back together, your body in excruciating agony. He holds you tightly, his mouth swallowing your screams until the process is complete, until you pass out in his arms.

---

You wake up to clanging silver. The light feels warm on your face, and then you feel nothing as the curtains are drawn. You open your eyes, ready to protest.

“Oh my god!”

The woman before you jumps at your words. “Your breakfast,” she motions to the tray.

“You're real, oh my god, it’s true! Help me! Please, we can escape together!” The woman stumbles away from you as you desperately try to hold on to her.

“What?” Why is she looking at you like that? Why is she acting like that?! She pushes you away as she opens the door. You’re too stunned, too hurt by this stranger who you thought could help you to question her when she says, “There is no escape.” She closes the door, locking you inside. What just happened?!

Now that you’re alone again you search the room from top to bottom, desperate now that you’ve realized you’re up against so much more. All the drawers are empty, not even a pen and paper in the desk. The window opens but that doesn’t help you because you’re several floors up. The bathroom has running water and the prettiest bathtub you’ve ever seen, so you give up and spend the day soaking yourself, in your clothes. The dress floating and surrounding you reminded you of a certain man, well, merman. No one visits you that night.

The day repeats itself six times. You try different approaches to try and convince the older woman to help you and every time she refuses or ignores you completely.

You don’t get it, you don’t understand, and her behavior disturbs you. You had asked her, “Don’t you want to see your friends and family again?! Do you have children? Or a spouse?” Her answer was, “I don’t think so.”

‘I don’t think so.’ She couldn’t tell you how long she’d been here either. The implication scared you.

You sit at the door, your ear to the wood all day. Sometimes you’ll hear footsteps, you know it’s not Jimin or Seokjin, because they don’t make any noise when they walk. Sometimes you yell and bang on the door waiting for a response that never comes.

One day you yanked down the drapery, opened the window completely letting all the sunshine in, and soaked it in like a cat. Before you woke up the next morning everything had been set back the way it was. It was maddening.

So one day you flooded the bathroom, just to see if anyone would come to stop you. They didn’t and the next morning the tub was gone. You cried all night.

For six nights you’re alone. The fifth night you dig into your dress pockets to find the tiny shell Yoongi gifted you. You tap it three times and wait, holding it to your ear.

“Y/n?” His groggy voice fills the sea noise. You can’t bring yourself to speak, or you would really break down. Hearing his voice was enough.

---

Before the sun sets on the seventh night there is a knock on your door. You’re already so close to the entrance you can hear the soft click as it unlocks and you swing the door open to see Jimin.

He smiled down at you, a picture of sin. The young vampire wore casual loose-fitting clothes, shirt hanging over his shoulders. He dresses so relaxed, so opposite to Seokjin, who wore his shirts buttoned up to the collar. All you wanted to do all day was talk to someone, be heard, but with Jimin here you feel like an animal cornered in a trap, and you want to hide.

He gives you a cocky smile and drapes his arm over your shoulders, dragging you back into the room. “Look at you! Perfectly fine, Seokjin always overreacts,” he whines, “I’m tired of waiting. I can trust you not to tell on me, right pet?”

The vampire presses himself against your back and wraps his arms around your waist, locking you to him, chin digging into your shoulder. You stand frozen against him, Jimin is excellent at making sure you feel like you’re trapped and powerless when you’re around him.

His nuzzles your neck, lovingly like a lover would, inhaling your scent. You craved human contact, but this man isn’t exactly human now, is he? Your stomach turns as the familiar feeling of fear bubbles inside you.

“And if I don’t?” you whisper, and his grip tightens around you.

“You tell me, what do you think will happen, if you don’t?” he mumbles against your neck, teeth grazing your skin and he moans softly. He wrapped himself around your body, caressing your curves, it confused you at how affectionate he was being, or was he just a snake constricting his prey?

Your stomach tightens, you were stronger than this, right? A week in time out didn’t work on you, right? You couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your lips every time Jimin shifted against you. You blame Seokjin’s fondness for him that must have rubbed off on you. You try to step away but Jimin pulls you in closer.

“I thought I was a disgusting human, are you the one who missed me, Jimin?” You ask him softly.

“There are things about you that are only barely revolting, I guess.” He can feel the shift in your mood as annoyance bristles through your body, it makes him smile. You are so defiant for being so scared, it makes him want to break you even more.

You’re scared, but deep down there was a part of you too curious for your own good, that just wanted Jimin to bite you, just to see why and what Seokjin was protecting him from. It would only be to your advantage, if that was the case, right? You stretch your neck to the side slightly to see what Jimin’s reaction would be. His fingers dig into your hips. “What’s this?” Oh no.

Jimin pulls the shell hidden inside your pocket. You grab at his hands, but he’s too fast, dancing around you as he pushes you away, pushing you to the ground.

Somehow you always end up here on the floor, at Jimin’s feet, probably exactly where the vampire thinks you should be. You’ve never seen him more excited, it twists your insides.

Jimin’s cold fingers inspect the tiny shell, tutting. He mouths the words, ‘bad girl’ silently. Tapping the tiny shell, he brings the shell to his lips.

“Yoongi, I know you’re there. Do you want to hear y/n?” He crouches next to you, lifts your chin so your eyes meet his, smiling as if you were playing along on an inside joke. “Do you want to hear her cries? Do you want to hear her moans?” his sinful voice sings tauntingly.

The younger vampire promised Jin he wouldn’t touch you, but Seokjin has so many rules, and this just proved you couldn’t be trusted, that you needed to be taught a lesson. Seokjin will forgive him, Jimin thinks, he always does.

“C’mon, Yoongi wants to hear you, y/n! I bet he misses you. Let him hear your pretty voice.” You just glare at him, staying silent. Jimin didn’t seem angered by your defiance, in fact, he seemed happy.

He pulls your hair, moving your face closer to the shell, his nails dig into your scalp, and you feel them pierce your skin. The pain causes you to let out a strangled cry. “That’s it!” You hold back tears as you glare at him, Seokjin is wrong, Jimin can’t be saved.

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” you grit out, scratching at his hand.

“Oh, no?” He releases your hair. You jump up but Jimin pulls you down to the ground again. Even as you kick and hit him, it’s obvious it’s not hurting the vampire. He easily pins you down, caging you in with his thighs, his knees pinning your arms to your sides. His fingers wrap around your neck, holding you tight as you grunt against him. You’ve become a mouse, trapped by a snake.

“Afraid yet?” You know he won’t kill you, it seems like torturing you is just too much fun for him. Jimin may be stronger than you, faster than you, but he’s as caged as you are, stuck on this island, leashed by Seokjin’s rules, acting out like a child.

“No.” He lets go and you heave in air, coughing. “Seokjin will find out, even if I don’t say anything. He said-”

“Jin,” he bares his fangs, “says a lot of things.” He brings the shell to his mouth again, “What bone should I break first?”

Jimin laughs, and you wonder what the merman said to him.

Jimin grabs your jaw, tilting your head to the side, reveling in your struggle. He places the tiny shell next to your ear. You try to silence your heavy breathing. “Yoong-g-gi?” You hear the ocean, the rumbling of the sea, and you hear-

“Y/n!” Yoongi’s voice rumbles through the tiny shell, he calls out to you, words rushed and worried, full of concern that has your heart dropping, “Jimin has a weakness, It’s T-” Jimin crushes the tiny shell between his fingers.

Jimin pouts, “I thought he would have used the opportunity to confess, now he’ll never get the chance.”

He moves away from you, “Well, aren’t you going to make a run for it? I didn’t lock the door.” He lifts his eyebrows up, nodding towards the door.

You lie on the cold hard ground stunned. Yoongi's gone. You think of a scenario where you rush towards the door, only to be stopped by Jimin as he tackles you again. No, you won’t do that. Jimin takes and takes, you're going to make it your mission to take from him. You stand up on shaky legs and walk towards Jimin.

“Actually, I rather you just bite me instead.” You’re not confident that he’d really go against Seokjin, so might as well egg him on. “Unless you’re scared of Seokjin?”

Jimin scoffs, jaw clenching in annoyance and eyes narrowing. “Any other cute little means of communication you tried to sneak in here, hmm?” He yanks you close to him again, his hands pull at your dress, wandering over your thighs, skirting dangerously close to your center. He smirks down at you as you pretend to act unaffected by the way his hands glide over your ass, kneading the flesh. His hands run up your corset, getting closer and closer to your dagger.

You run your hand over the front of his pants. It was the only thing you could think to do to distract the vampire before he found your dagger and really killed you. It worked. Jimin stops you, digs his nails into your wrist, but he doesn’t pull your hand away.

So without many other options, you send your quarrel with the vampire off into a whole other direction as you grab for the bulge in his pants. You feel the weight of him in your palm, your mouth drops a little at his size. Jimin’s jaw tightens as you rub up and down his bulge.

You’re stuck in a staring match with the vampire. Two stubborn beings, challenging each other to see who breaks first.

Surprising you, he spins you around and starts undoing the straps of your corset.

No, no, that’s the opposite of what you wanted! “What are you doing?” You try to wiggle your body to face him again, “Just fuck me already!”

Jimin cages you against his lean frame, crushing your body to the closest wall with his own. He inhales into your neck. He can sense the torrent of your spiraling emotions, he feels your hatred for him radiating off your body stronger than ever as he slows his advances down.

“You are acting more stupid than usual, pet.”

“You wanted to play,” you say, “Well, let’s play then.”

He’s never played this kind of game before, and you’ve enticed him, he has no problem calling your bluff. His hand runs along your cleavage, kneading the flesh.

Jimin pulls your dress up slowly, his cold hand running up your leg. You rest your forehead on the wall, shuddering when he drags his fingers across your center. “Your hands are cold.”

He pushes two fingers inside you, deep, you were barely ready for the stretch, crying out from the sudden intrusion and cold sensation. Jimin groans as you whimper against him, “Forget what I am already?” He licks your neck, fingers pumping in and out at a dizzying pace.

“How could I ever forget?” you whisper.

“I regret destroying that shell, I would have liked to let Yoongi listen to what a whore you are.”

Your body tenses and Jimin leans his body harder into yours, pressing another finger inside. “What would the dogs think, knowing their bitch is so wet for their enemy, hmm?” Making you angry is too easy, he thinks, and makes you smell so much better, sexier. Jimin is used to fear, he’s grown accustomed to desire, but your rage makes him ravenous. If Jimin wasn’t so consumed by his carnal desires, he might question himself as to why he wants someone to hate him so much, but all he can think about is how he’s going to drive you to madness with just his fingers. He resists the urge to bite you by sucking harshly on your neck, pulling the blood closer to your skin and leaving dark marks behind.

Before you have a chance at release he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and holding up the evidence of your arousal, the clear substance clinging to his fingers as he licks them clean, moaning in your face. The sight is depraved, and you can’t look away. He smiles smugly at you as he smells your lust surround him.

“I knew you wouldn’t bite me.”

“We will get to that, we’re playing a game remember? Or do you want to stop now?”

“All this talk and I still haven’t been bitten or fucked, are vampires impotent or something or is it just you?”

Jimin laughs, yanking your body to face the wall again and pinning you to him. “I’ll make you forget everything but my dick while I’m fucking you, you won’t have a single other thought in that pretty little head of yours other than giving me all your pleasure.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m waiting.”

Jimin laughs again, pressing three thick fingers deep inside you again, you legs go weak as he holds you up with the force of his body against yours. He drags his fingers out and higher until he’s circling your other opening. His digits press into both of your holes, filling you up completely as you cry out. You haven’t had someone give attention to that part of you in so long, you tense at the unexpected stretch. His thumb works against your clit expertly as he rocks his hand against yours. You feel so full and overwhelmed by Jimin. “So close already? Beg me to make you come, pet.”

“I’m not your pet.”

You take his torture silently, hold in your moans as he brings you to the brink of release and stops short of satisfaction over and over again. He thrusts his fingers in and out of your holes, until the tight stretch goes away, his fingers easily gliding in and out of your wetness, until the ache is replaced with a need for more. Your entire core pulsates as he slowly and torturously circles your swollen bud, changing the pressure just enough to drive you crazy by ghosting over your clit when you needed more and rubbing even harsher circles when it all becomes too much, his touch making you feverish and sick with desire. When you clench around his fingers, closer than you’ve gotten to release since he started this torture, he pulls out of you completely, pressing his hard cock, straining against the cloth of his pants, into your sore center.

“You smell so good,” he moans. You don’t want to think about Jungkook, you don’t want to taint his memory, but Jimin’s words are so similar. Jungkook is nothing like Jimin, but they are more similar to each other than to a human like you. Perhaps you are just as weak and pathetic as Jimin says, a human can be no match for a vampire, and you’ll never be able to win against him.

“Please Jimin...just let me cum...”

“Beg me.” His usual airy voice drips with arousal, and he presses his bulge harder into your wetness.

You don’t do as he says, you can’t, so he continues his torturous little game, until you’re moaning loudly, head thrown back against his shoulder, whimpering every time he stills. He pulls his fingers out of your dripping core, focusing his attention on your ass, thumb rubbing harsh circles into your throbbing clit, you feel so empty and painfully full as your sensitive walls clench around nothing and his fingers stretch your rim open for him. Your entire body vibrates, but you’d rather stay unsatisfied than say please to Jimin ever again.

Finally, as the sun sets and the last bit of light around the curtains disappears, Jimin realizes he can play his game no longer and pulls away from you completely. Your legs give out as you slide down the wall, mind finally free from the haze of lust Jimin kept you in.

“So weak,” Jimin tuts.

“...impotent...dick...”

“Pathetic slut.”

“I thought about Seokjin the entire time,” you whisper.

“...liar.”

---

You must have fallen asleep, you feel a hand cupping your cheek, and you open your eyes to Seokjin, blonde hair, red eyes, suit buttoned to the collar. You let out a small laugh, and then groan once the pain in your joints wakes you fully.

Jin carries you back to your bed. You tug on his sleeve.

“Please take the pain away,” you ask softly.

Seokin’s eyes search the expanse of your skin, “There are no cuts on your body.”

Groaning, you sit up and kiss the vampire who freezes against you. So you take the opportunity to straddle Seokjin’s lap, and start unbuttoning his shirt, kissing, licking, biting his smooth skin. Jimin’s harsh words replay in your mind and sting you. Screw him, let him think whatever he wants, let him hear you. This had been a part of your plan anyways, first Seokjin, and then you’ll worry about him, might as well have some relief too.

“What happened?” Seokjin asks as you rut into his body, tearing his shirt open. He doesn’t look upset that you popped the buttons, does he ever get upset anymore? You hastily unbuckle his belt. His hands cover yours, repeating his question, “What happened, y/n?”

You grab his hand and move it under your dress. Seokjin stills as his fingers come into contact with your thigh, slick with your wetness from hours of Jimin's teasing. His hands travel up your shaking leg.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, “...Did Ji-”

You silence him with a kiss. “Fuck me, I feel like I’m dying.”

Seokjin laughs against your lips, “Humans are so dramatic,” but he’s already pulling you closer, turning you around to lie on the bed. He bends down to your core, pushing your dress over your waist, you spread your legs wide open for him.

He licks your arousal from your inner thigh, fingers massaging your aching center.

“Ugh fuck, stop teasing me,” you whine. Seokjin fills you with two long fingers, pushing inside you to the knuckle. His teeth bite down on your inner thigh, it stings but your lust somehow lessens the pain. Your body tenses, you clench around his fingers and he speeds up, pulling more blood from your veins.

You flinch when you see Jimin again, reliving the memory from Seokjin’s mind. He’s half naked, kissing a beautiful woman who is fully naked, right in front of Seokjin.

Jimin looks so different, dark hair, flushed skin, tenderness in his eyes.

The girl lowers her body between the men, and fills her mouth with Seokjin’s hardening length. You feel yourself become wetter. Seokjin moans against your feverish skin, biting you for a second time, higher up your leg. It stings again, but you’re too busy trying to get off on his fingers to care about anything but release. Seokjin bites the mound of flesh close to your center, his tongue pressing against your hood, your vision goes white and then-

You see Yoongi’s sharp eyes above you, his naked body on top of yours, cold and wet, hard cave rocks against your bare back. You see Namjoon, a younger version of him, long hair pulled back into a low bun, across the room in bed with another woman. The room is small and empty. Two beds, two couples, Seokjin watching his friend fuck the random girl senseless.

You feel jealousy, watching Namjoon through Seokjin’s eyes. He looks so different, so feral and savage. The bed creaks loudly underneath him as he grips the headboard, and thrusts into her wildly. Jin pumps his fingers inside you in time with Namjoon's thrusts, it makes you feel like you’re going to burst into a thousand pieces. Namjoon’s eyes glow yellow as he gives Seokjin a wicked grin and you’re scared for the first time of Namjoon as he growls, releasing into the woman.

“Don’t make a mess,” he drops the spent girl on Seokjin’s lap, who caresses her face. She’s breathtaking, you feel inadequacy course through you, you feel jealousy, you feel turned on when her full lips envelop Seokjin's thumb. Namjoon pulls the sleeping naked girl from Seokjin’s bed, tapping her check to rouse her awake.

Seokjin’s arousal is overwhelming you. He slams into the woman’s body from behind, chasing his high while holding her face down into the bed, and then his fangs pierce her back as her screams are muffled. You don’t want to come to this, to the feeling of her blood filling his mouth, arousing him and arousing you. Namjoon’s grunts and sounds of sex fills your mind again and you come undone in a silent scream around Seokjin’s fingers.

---

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.

You run around the room, darting around Seokjin who watches you rather calmly for the unfolding situation. The rest of his body frozen, the blessed dagger lodged in between his vertebrae, stopping his regeneration.

Once you came, thighs snug around his head, you pulled the dagger from your corset and stabbed him in the back. You kicked him away from you before he could attack and he fell backward, the dagger piercing deep into his back, and that’s where he was currently, frozen on the floor, watching you as you run around the room in disbelief that you actually managed to stab a vampire.

You trip over him by accident and he lets out a soft grunt. “Fuck! Are you okay?” you sit next to his frozen body, “Like, relative to being stabbed, I mean? Don’t answer that...because you can’t. Oh fuck.” You put your head down, resting it on his chest, you don’t hear anything but your laboured breathing. ‘Believe in yourself, y/n! Yoongi believed in you…’

You gather yourself up once again and you move to the window, jiggling the handle. It’s still unlocked! You’re too high up to escape but...

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I really am sorry,” you grunt as you heave the immobilized vampire to the window, inch by inch, Seokjin’s body like a sack of bricks. You place him against the wall and crouch down so you can look him in the eyes, patting down his messy hair, tousled in your struggle to move him, “I’m sorry,” you repeat again, “but you’re a vampire right?” You say encouragingly, and you give him a couple of pats on the cheek, his eyes dart down to watch the action, “Technically, you can’t die.”

With every ounce of strength you have left inside you, you shove Seokjin out the window.

---

You quietly lock the door to what had been your room and prison cell behind you, quickly walking through the halls. You’re not sure what you expected, maybe a gothic interior fit for Dracula, burning candlesticks and red velvet drapes, but you got electricity and mid century modern eclectic, the walls were colorful with art pieces, deep emeralds and golds and blood red. You open the first door you come across.

A young woman sits on a large bed reading a book, looking up at you. Is that how you looked to them? A more disheveled and unpleasant version of her? She looked happy, until she noticed you, and then her smile fell, disappointed you weren’t Jimin or Jin. You slam the door shut and lock it again.

You race as quietly as you can through the halls, you have no idea what you’re looking for, quickly peeking into each room you come across. Strangers, stop what they are doing to look at you, waiting like obedient lap dogs. You have yet to find an empty room. Four doors you’ve opened on this floor, no empty rooms, and you begin to feel hopeless.

You open the fifth and final door and you’re assaulted with the loud sound of moaning. The moaning comes from a woman specifically, her cries almost as loud as the slapping of her skin against Jimin’s naked body. Jimin had needed an outlet after his time with you, specifically, someone to use and bite that wasn't 'off limits.'

You stand frozen in shock, it feels like all the air has escaped the room, filling the woman’s lungs instead as she screams in ecstasy. He is standing next to the bed, fucking into her at an inhuman speed, holding her hips in the air as she struggles to hold the rest of her torso horizontal. You can’t look away, because her body, her stomach, her large bouncing tits, it’s all covered in blood. You almost scream, almost, but the small huff of air you let out instead is enough. The bed stops creaking as Jimin’s movement stops and you meet his surprised eyes.

You shut the door, lock it and run.

You run down the stairs, you see the entrance and you almost run out the door, but you instead run down the hall, flinging every door you see, praying you find something. There's a kitchen, a dining room with the longest table you’ve ever seen, and an empty room! It looks like an office! You run inside. You run to the desk, looking over the papers. Weird markings litter the pages, it reminds you of the markings on Yoongi’s bag. You have to be getting closer to your objective, you have to be! You scatter the papers around, yank open the drawers, hoping to find something useful. There’s a bookcase behind the desk, and you start pulling down books, nothing is catching your eye. You pull on the bookcase, you run your hand across the wood frantically, searching for perhaps a trap door-

“What are you looking for? I can try to help.”

You jump, almost screaming. You hold your heart, it hadn’t stopped, to your surprise. You had no idea someone else was in the room with you. You stare back at a calm man with messy brown hair, he looks at you timidly. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. I just wanted to help, and it took me a while to organize those books,” he laughs softly. The man shuffles back to the wall, you hear metal clanging and look at his feet, they have chains around them, his hands too.

You look down at your feet, papers and books are all around you “I-I’m sorry. I was just-I didn’t know-” You had no idea how much more time you had to spare so you cut to the chase. “Is there a portal here?!”

The man’s eyes go wide, “Not here,” he speaks softly, “One level lower.” He gave you the answer you were looking for without any hesitation, was this a trick? You look at him more closely, his clothes are loose, like pajamas, and he’s barefoot, he looks at you happily, like you didn’t just storm into his room and destroy his things. The innocent expression on his face reminds you of Jungkook.

You remember why he looks so familiar, “You were sitting next to Yoongi!”

The man tilts his head confused, and then he stares at the door, “you need to leave now,” he rushes towards you, “Go down the stairs to the right.” He finds a pen on his desk. “The portal is in the basement, in Seokjin’s office. You’ll need this to open the door, it will only work once.” He grabs your hand and writes a long looping character on your palm, it burns gold and then disappears, while you stand still in shock.

Before you can question him the door bursts open. Jimin stands in the doorway, looking at you and the other man. His anger is replaced by an expression you don’t quite understand. Heavy silence envelops the room. The awkward tension is cut when Jimin speaks to you calmly saying, “Come here. Now.”

The man steps between you and Jimin. “Stay here, he can’t come inside, just like I can’t leave.” The man leans against the desk, his long legs blocking you from leaving, his chains clanging again.

“Y/n, come here now.” That was the first time Jimin said your name. You look between the men.

“Why would I go to you? You’re going to kill me!”

Jimin runs a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes to the side, “I promise you I won’t kill you if you come here right now.” He says the words as sweetly as he can in his growing irritation, trying to coax you to him, but to you he sounds patronizing and angry.

“Jimin’s lying,” the man next to you whispers, confirming your suspicions.

“Tae, just bring her to me!” the vampire screams.

“No, I don’t want to, you’re going to hurt her.”

‘Tae, he said. Is this Taehyung?’ The same man you saw next to Yoongi, the same man Namjoon warned you about, the man who is protecting you and gave you a way out of this hell of a place?

“Can’t you just do the right thing for once?!”

“You haven’t come to visit me in how long, Jimin?”

They yell at each other like an old married couple. You stare down at your hand, it looks perfectly ordinary, you think you might have just imagined it all, what Taehyung did, but you realized on this island nothing was impossible.

“A-are you a wizard?” you interrupt the men’s arguing.

Taehyung turns back to you surprised and gives you a bright smile, “No, I just learned from one. He didn't call himself a wizard, though” he laughs, “I think the correct term is warlock?”

“Oh, okay, good to know,” you mumble. Jimin quietly seethes at the doorway.

“Why do you have chains on if you can’t leave this room?”

“Yeah, why do I have chains on, Jimin?” He turns to the vampire accusingly.

“Just wait until Seokjin comes,” Jimin mutters, and he pulls the dagger you used on Seokjin out of his back pocket, holding the handle with a handkerchief. “Nice trick, by the way, y/n. Seokjin is still healing himself from the fall. You’re going to regret not coming to me when I asked.” He glares at you.

“So that’s what fell!” Taehyung roars with laughter.

“I said I was sorry,” you mutter, biting your lip. How the hell are you going to get out of this situation now? As if you summoned the Devil himself, Seokjin appears next to Jimin.

You hide behind Tahyung out of instinct, grabbing onto his chained arm. Taehyung holds in his joy while the two vampires' expressions darken.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Jimin seethes.

You let anger get the best of you and wrap your arms around Taehyung’s waist instead, glaring from behind his shoulder.

“Y/n-” “Don’t,” Taehyung interjects. “-get away from him,” Seokjin warns.

“Why?! How do I know you both aren’t going to murder me as soon as I leave this room?”

“Is there not a spell we can use to get her out?!” Jimin turns to Seokjin ignoring you. You grind your teeth. Two can play that game.

“Why are you locked in here? How do you know Yoongi and Namjoon?”

“Yoongi? We all met him when we came to the island.” Jimin screams Taehyung’s name to silence him, but he ignores him easily. “You should have seen Seokjin and Jimin, he got them all wet and they vowed to make sushi out of him!” he laughs, turning his body around in your arms to face you instead of the pair.

You look over to the two vampires who have gone quiet. “And Namjoon?”

“Taehyung..” Seokjin warns.

“What? I’m not even allowed to talk about it now?” Taehyung whines.

“Enough! Y/n come here...please.” You hadn’t expected a request from Seokjin. “I swear, I won’t punish you for what you’ve done, just come here.” he holds out his hand for you, you can see the magic swirl around his fingers, burning his skin. He winces, but doesn’t move his hand away, even when his tips begin to turn black with char.

“What about Jimin?”

“Yes, fine, I won’t punish you, just hurry the fuck up,” the younger vampire looks anxiously at Seokjin’s hand.

“Y/n, please no! I’ve been here by myself for so long, I can’t stand it! You’re the first person who’s visited me. I don’t want to be alone,” Taehyung whimpers, a high pitched whine as you hesitantly make your way to Seokjin. He reminds you so much of Jungkook. He paces around you, begging you to stay.

“I-I don’t want to be locked in that room anymore.”

“Okay! Just come here!” Jimin yells.

“How can I trust you? How do I know you won’t go back on your word?!”

“They will, y/n, please! Look, Jimin promised he would visit me, he lied!”

Seokjin pulls his hand away, completely burned black and puts out his other arm instead. “You’re just going to have to trust us, like we will have to trust you not to pull any more stunts. We’ll trust each other, okay?” Seokjin pleads with you.

“I-I’ll come back to visit you,” you say to Taehyung. “Right?” You turn to Seokjin who relents and gives you a hasty nod.

“No!” Taehyung whimpers, “They are going to lock you away! Please believe me! You’ll never be able to escape.”

You reach for Seokjin’s hand, but Taehyung jumps in between you, holding out his chained hands. “Look at them! Look closely, what are these made out of, y/n? LOOK!” You study the metal, it looks shiny and silver. It’s silver.

Seokjin lurches forward quickly, his suit catches fire, his warm hand grasps onto yours and pulls you out of the room and away from Taehyung and everything goes black.

---

You wake up in a different room. You’re not alone. Another woman sits on the bed next to you, she jumps when you wake up. It makes you jump, ‘fuck why is everyone so jumpy here?’ you think holding your head in your hands to calm your nerves.

You try to scoot away, and you feel a tug on your ankle, so you pull the covers off of you. You’re in a new dress, all white, like the sheets, like the woman’s dress next to you. You see a chain connected to your foot that reminds you of Taehyung’s shackles but darker metal. No. “My clothes!”

“They made me, I-I’m sorry, I had to give them your clothes. The necklace wouldn’t come off, I-I didn’t tell them,” the woman pulls at her sleeve. “I kept your secret, but I can’t promise you they won’t find out, Master might look into my memories.” Your hand traces the gold watch chain around your neck, calming down.

“Okay...thank you.” You whisper uneasily. “H-How long have you been here?”

The woman thinks, humming to herself. “I lost count, Master did give me this on our Fifth Year Anniversary!” She shows off the blood red jewelry dangling from her ears.

Ugh. “That’s nice,” you say and get out of bed. The dress is tight around you, covering your arms and flowing down to your ankles, the one place the fabric doesn’t touch is your neck, the hemline sits off your shoulders and plunges into a deep V. You scoot your way to the door until you can’t take it anymore and reach for the bottom of your dress, pulling the fabric until it tears.

You hear the woman let out a soft, “oh no.”

The chain stops you from reaching the door, even if you stretch out your legs you can’t grab the handle. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You wheel your body back around, “Hey, what’s your name?”

The woman thinks, humming to herself. “I don’t remember.”

“Listen, I’m going to need you to-WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T REMEMBER?!”

The woman flinches from your volume. “Well Master calls me his little doll and I like that name a lot, and I just, well, forgot my other name.”

You take a deep breath as you try not to be sick. “Well Dolly, your MASTER IS A HUGE FUCKING ASSHOLE. YOU FUCKING LIARS!”

---

The group in the parlor turn their heads to the small voice echoing through the halls, Jimin winces, hearing your words clearly, moving one of the women off his lap. “She’s awake.”

“I’ll go-”

“It seems you failed at controlling her, brother. Why can’t I just try?”

Seokjin scoffs, “You can barely control yourself.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches. “I’ll-” he coughs, “-use restraint. I won’t hurt her.”

---

“Monsters!”

“Oh no, they’re going to be so mad.”

“Taehyung was right! I swear to God-”

“So so mad, oh no, oh no no no.”

“I won’t let you get away with this! Liars! Bastards!”

“Master!”

The door opens and Jimin stands against the door frame, ignoring your irateness and addressing your new roommate with a smile, “Hey Doll.”

Jimin standing in front of you had extinguished some of your rage and replaced it with apprehension, halting your tirade for now. “You fucking lied,” you glare at him.

“It’s not locked, I’m not forcing you to be here,” He looks over your shoulder, “Right Baby Doll?” The woman nods enthusiastically back. “The chain was a precaution, I’ll remove it, I promise. We just need to set some ground rules, okay pet?”

“I am not your fucking pet!”

He moves around you, like a buzzard circling it’s next meal, “You look so much better in this instead of that ugly sea dress.”

“Don’t I look pretty?” you hear the woman’s tiny voice ask Jimin.

“Of course!”

You rub your temples, “Jimin, just take this chain off me.”

“After everything you’ve done, and you’re still trying to make demands? Do you know how incredibly lucky you are? Can’t you just show a bit more gratitude like her?”

Jimin kisses the woman and she moans against him, deepening the kiss. You rub harder at your temples. You're chained, a captive audience to what ever the hell display is happening in front of you, becoming more uncomfortable and annoyed with each passing minute.

“Seriously?”

He drapes his arms around the woman’s shoulders and stares at you, “Jealous?”

You scoff. You think back to the version of him in Seokjin’s memories, with the other woman. You remember the tenderness in his eyes as he watched her and you swallow down the lump forming in your throat. You are not jealous! And anyways, Jimin’s tenderness is all gone now.

“She doesn’t even remember her name anymore.”

“She doesn’t seem to mind,” he winks at her, and the woman giggles at your exchange.

“Her entire life has been taken away! What happened, it’s worse than death.” You hug your arms close to your body. Was that going to become you if you stayed here?

“Worse than death?” Jimin echoes your words and you notice him stare at his reflection in the room’s mirror. You stand in silence, watching him as he runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the loose strands while the woman softly hums to herself a sweet melody. She doesn’t sense the looming danger all around you and it makes your chest tighten in anxiety.

“You’re right y/n. Come here.” He holds out his hand for her.

He pulls her into a kiss, she smiles against her lips. You awkwardly shift at the exchange. She seemed happy with Jimin, even if she couldn’t remember the person she was anymore. It makes you wonder if she had resisted in the beginning or had always been this irritatingly agreeable...or maybe she even loved him, maybe her love was the only thing left in her.

Jimin holds her face in his hands, dragging his lips across hers, a spectacle of two lovers. She’s beautiful like Jimin, they fit perfectly together, a rose and a thorn.

It happens so quickly you stand stunned, you don’t have time to scream or stop him. She’s on the ground, neck twisted, dead.

You’re so stunned you can’t even cry, you just shake, fallen to your knees, staring at her beautiful lifeless face. Her red earrings dangle from her ears catching the light.

“What have you done?” Your voice sounds tiny and high, like hers.

“I saved her from a fate worse than death, according to you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

You can’t speak. He moves closer, putting a hand on your cheek, the same way he had held the woman’s head a few seconds ago. His cold finger wipes away your tears. When did you start crying?

“We aren’t liars. I’ll unchain you. So, will you behave now?”

---

You walk the halls during the sunlight. You stop by Taehyung’s door knocking four times, opening the door an inch. “I found this in the kitchen!”

“I’m...allergic.”

“Allergic to chocolate?! I-I’m sorry,” you mutter, though it doesn’t stop you from enjoying the bar yourself.

You lean forward into Taehyung’s room, he puts his chained arms over your head, and gives you a hug. He reminds you of Jungkook so much, sweet and gentle. But he’s not warm like him, he’s still a stranger to you, always dodging your questions. Namjoon’s words constantly play in your mind not to trust Taehyung. Even though out of everyone here, you trust him the most, you like him the most. Being able to spend time with him, even if your conversations are shallow and lighthearted, is the best part of your day.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“Why haven’t you escaped?” He whispers.

You play with the hem of your dress as a distraction, “I don’t know.”

He always asks you the same question and you always give him the same answer, but today Taehyung persists. “They won’t catch you if you go now! Isn’t that the whole reason you let yourself get caught?” Even though you hardly know anything about Taehyung, he knows so much about you already.

“I’m...I’m scared.”

He pats your head, you shake his hand away, lightly shoving him back. “I’m not a dog!”

Taehyung laughs, “Yeah, you’re a scaredy cat.”

“How dare you!” you hit his leg as he giggles.

“I want to show you something! It will help you when you finally escape!”

You cover his mouth with your hands, shushing him. Looking around to see if there were any others lurking around you, but no one ever comes around Taehyung. “What is it?”

“Well, um, you’ll have to come all the way inside.”

“...I can’t.” You move away from him again and lean your head against the door frame.

Taehyung sighs. “I knew you’d say that!” he whines. “Do you do everything Jimin says now?”

You roll your eyes, “Not even close,” you mutter. “And it’s not just Jimin...”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been told not to trust you...and you haven’t been very open with me, have you?” you look down at your hands, intertwined with his, you trace the gold markings along his chained wrists.

“It’s complicated,” he whispers.

“I can’t see how it could get more complicated than being a werewolf trapped in a house full of vampires.”

“It’s much more complicated,” he pulls on your arm, staring at you with pleading eyes. “Leave a shoe outside and they won’t notice you’ve come inside, I promise!”

You hum, searching for a compromise. “How about this,” you scoot over the entrance, sitting closer to Taehyung while making sure to keep your legs outside. “Technically, I am inside and also outside.”

“But the magic won’t work unless your body is fully inside here,” Taehyung pouts. “The spell on the room will clash with mine and who knows what will happen then!”

“How do you know so much about magic?”

“I can’t say…” Taehyung whispers.

Your expression turns sour, ‘What can you say...’ you think. “Well can’t you just like, Houdini yourself out of here?”

Taehyung shakes his head regretfully. “No, if only it were that simple. And please don’t ask me to explain,” he teases. Taehyung scoots behind you and pulls your body onto his lap. “Let’s stay like this for a while.”

“Okay,” you hum.

“Let go of each other!” You wake up on the floor with Taehyung cuddled to your side, one lone foot of yours still remains outside the door. Jimin pulls on your foot before you can untangle yourself from Taehyung, dragging the rest of your body into the hallway. Taehyung grunts, waking up as you’re pulled from his embrace.

You blink away the sleep from your eyes, face-to-face with Jimin, his head hovering over yours, eyes bright red with anger.

“Leave her alone, Jimin!”

“I-I am allowed to talk to him,” your words come out small and high when you finally speak and you hate it, the way your fear strangles your voice.

“On one condition, just one.” Jimin hisses.

“W-well, t-technically-”

"You're being so unfair!" Taehyung yells. "Do you like her that much?"

“Tae, enough!” He slams the door in Taehyung’s pleading face.

There is a bang on the door, only once, so loud and strong it shakes the entire connecting wall, the picture frames wobble and dust falls from the ceiling, the sound so abrupt and booming it makes you, and even Jimin, flinch.

---

“Jimin told me you were in a...compromising position, with Tae today.” You and him watch the stars from your bedroom window, now locked.

Your stomach tightens. “Taehyung is lonely, maybe if Jimin spent time with him I wouldn’t have to,” you mutter.

“Do you care about Taehyung?” Jin’s eyes study your features, his sharp hearing picks up your heartbeat, waiting to hear any lies in your answers.

“No, I just-He’s the only normal person here.”

“Person? Normal?” Jin quietly laughs.

“A werewolf is a person too.”

“Ahhh, so you think Tae is a werewolf.”

“He is, isn’t he?” You spin around to look at Jin but his poker face is as strong as ever as he smiles down at you.

“Is a vampire a person too?”

You chew on your bottom lip, “I guess so,” you side eye the man next to you, “Deep down. Somewhere.”

Jin kisses your lips softly, carrying you back to your bed and placing you beneath him. You’ve managed to latch onto Jin since that night, a lesser of two evils. The vampire truly was a forgiving man, and even if parts of you were weakened by fear, your mind had impressively blocked Seokjin’s pull since that night as well, so he had deemed you his personal pet project, his puzzle to solve, keeping Jimin an arm’s length away from you.

Jin was nice, sometimes. And sometimes, you enjoyed his company too.

You play with his soft blond locks. You know the pain is coming eventually, so you do everything you can to distract yourself, admiring the vampire’s beautiful features before you. He pulls the deep neckline of your dress easily down your body, exposing your chest to his piercing eyes. His eyes stop on the gold piece nestled in your cleavage, like always, he ignores it. He knows what it is, what he doesn’t know is why Namjoon gave it to you.

The cold air and Seokjin’s cold fingers kneading your breasts sends you into a bout of shivers, when he drags his tongue across your skin you arch your back and push your chest closer to his soft lips. He’s so gentle with you now. Sometimes, you wish he was rougher, like the Seokjin you witnessed with Namjoon.

“Won’t you let me in again, Dove?” Namjoon’s watch falls into the dip in your clavicle, replaced by Jin's fangs as he bites the flesh of your breasts, his fingers pull at your nipples distracting you from the pain. He doesn’t drain you unconscious anymore, instead Seokjin likes to covers your skin in lovebites, taking all night with you.

“I-I can’t control it.”

“Let’s practice control,” Seokin smirks, lips stained red, and he moves his hands down your body.

He takes time stretching you full with his fingers, his lips never leaving your chest, steadily building up the pressure inside you with each quick stroke of his thumb against your core until you’re tightening around his digits. “Don’t cum.”

You tense around him, unable to successfully hold in your moans. “I can’t. I’m going to-”

“Just try, Dove.” You would hope he’d stop moving his fingers, at least slow down, but he’s steady and relentless, his digits pushing inside you in the most perfect mind-numbing pace. There’s no way you could stop your impending orgasm, but you try to hold it off, just two more three four five agonizing seconds longer. Seokjin sucks on the sensitive skin of your breast, mouth pulling as much of the mound as he can fit inside while you pulse around his digits. You feel his teeth sink deep into your flesh and his name escapes your lips in a strangled moan.

His usual dull eyes look up at you shinning with desire. “Let’s try again.”

---

“I brought biscuits.” You hold up the sweet cookies in front of Taehyung’s confused face.

“Thank you, y/n.” Taehyung gives you a bright smile and hugs you extra tight when you peek your head into his room.

“Ready to escape?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Taehyung pouts. “You’re-I'm-” Taehyung struggles to say the right words, “We’re running out of time, y/n.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just need a couple minutes with you, please. I have everything ready!” Taehyung runs to his desk, pulling together a stack of papers. “You want to see everyone again, don’t you? You friends and family?” he pleads.

Your family, you’re ashamed to admit you haven’t thought about them. It wasn’t even purposeful, your mind just had stopped wandering to thoughts of them.

Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about them anymore either, it hurt too much. The small traces of their personalities that Taehyung reminded you of had become sufficient enough as you tolerated living. “W-What do you mean we’re running out of time?”

“I think I have just enough magic to fill your necklace,” he whispers, “but if I remember correctly, that model only holds twelve weeks worth of time. How long have you been on this island, y/n?”

Your fingers clutch at Namjoon’s watch resting against your heart. Could you really rewind back time to when you never got on that damned boat! “I-I just need to take off a shoe?”

Taehyung’s face lights up. “Yeah, or something that has your scent that they can still sense, just in case”

“So the more I leave the less noticeable it would be?”

“Well, I guess so?”

You look around at the hallway, still empty like always, and pull off both shoes from your feet. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” You begin to shimmy out of your dress. Taehyung’s eyes go wide, and he wets his drying lips, then he springs into action, searching his closet for something to cover you. You pull his large sweater over your body and take a hesitant step inside.

Taehyung wraps you into his arms in a proper hug, holding you close. “I’m so happy you found me, y/n. I’m so happy.” He whispers.

He holds you tight to him, you're ashamed how affected you are by his kind gestures, you shouldn’t feel this way about someone who Namjoon told you to stay away from, it felt like a betrayal. “Don’t forget about me once you escape,” Taehyung whispers.

You melt into his embrace. “I won’t. Isn’t there a way to break the spell on the island? There just has to be! There has to be a way to save you and Yoongi and-”

“You like him,” Taehyung pouts.

“What? Who? Yoongi?!” Your face flushes hot.

“I don’t like sharing,” Taehyung mumbles into his sweater currently draped over your shoulders.

You swallow thickly. “Tae?”

He pulls away, holding you loosely, searching your eyes. During your interactions, you usually kept your attention around Taehyung, unable to focus too long on his intimidating aura and good looks, worried you'd start feeling too much for the mysterious man, worried you'd disappoint Namjoon. But now Taehyung is all around you, and his magnetism is too strong for you to resist. “Tae-”

His kiss is brief, however no less impactful, the way he pours his desires into you until your lost in a haze, following his lips as he pulls away, entranced by the small smile he shows you.

When he lifts his chained arms over your head, he pulls your necklace off as well. You were surprised how easily he removed it, when even Jimin couldn’t pull it off you (much to the vampire’s annoyance). You watched intently as Taehyung turns the watch's dial and whispers a spell in a language you can’t understand. “There, it worked, I set it to the full twelve weeks. you’ll know when to use it.” He places the watch around your neck again, his fingers cupping your cheeks and he rests his forehead against yours, content. Your face burns hot, Taehyung is so affectionate and sweet and treats you like glass.

This close, you can peer into his deep warm brown eyes, irises twinkling back at you so beautifully, it looks like gold swirls in them. “Just one more thing, and then the world is ours,” he says.

---

You sit up in your bed abruptly. Your fingers search for Namjoon’s watch as you try to steady your breathing. The hard gold feels comforting against the tips of your fingers as your eyes adjust to the darkness. You’re reminded of the night you first arrived. But gone is Yoongi’s colorful dress, the clinical white fabric of your new dress, sits tight around your body like a straight jacket and blends in with the white bed sheets.

Weren’t you just with Taehyung, what happened? You remember he told you you were running out of time. Then what happened?

You have to go find him!

You leave the bed and search out his room again. Jimin passes you in the halls, as quiet as a cat, startling you so much you almost fall if it weren't for his fast reflexes. “There you are, ugh I figured you’d be headed to Tae’s room,” Jimin frowns, “Let’s go.”

“Where are you taking me?” You fight against his grip as he pulls you in the opposite direction.

“I haven’t fed in weeks, and my favorite meal is gone because of you.”

You shut your eyes tight, trying to push away the images of the woman who haunts your dreams.

“So you’re taking her place.”

“What?!” You're doing what now? “J-Jin said-”

“Are you his parrot now? Well lucky for me, tonight Jin went to go speak with Yoongi,” he says smugly.

You step into Jimin’s room. The dresser was covered with random items that don’t seem personalized to the vampire’s taste at all. Unread books, countless jewelry pieces, and a plethora of knives.

“Don’t even think about it, pet.” Jimin warns as he sees your eyes stop on the sleek blades.

“I wasn’t,” you mutter. It was the truth.

There’s no window in his room, no mirrors, just wood furniture, covered in scratches and dents of aggression. The areas of his room, like his dresser, are littered with things, so many discarded things. The room is soulless, like Jimin, it feels like a lavish prison cell.

“So,” you don’t look at Jimin, instead you look at his things, trying to find some sense of his personality, “I guess you’re going to finally prove to me you aren’t impotent after all?” you mock. You know you shouldn't poke the beast, but Jimin is like an annoying itch you can't help but scratch.

Jimin scoffs, “Slut, can you go a night without getting fucked?”

“Can you?!”

Jimin smirks. “I'm almost going to miss that.”

You take a step away from him at his words. “What are you going to do?”

“Jin is too sentimental, he only skims the surface of his powers now. There is another aspect to a memory pull, it’s much more fun. Can you guess what that is, pet?”

You’ve been guessing and trying to make sense of everything since that night. “That woman's memories, you took them, right?”

Jimin claps his hands, slow and mocking at your right answer. “It’s not a simple task, but she was particularly compliant,” he bites his lip in memory. “She was much more willing to part with her past, her previous life wasn’t so great if you were wondering...some would see what I did as a blessing.”

The vampire stands in front of you cupping your cheek. “But I’m sure you...” his hand follows your jaw, “...will put up an impressive fight.”

You let out the breath you've been holding, if you can do what happened to Jin, maybe you can find something you can use against him. Maybe his torture won’t work on you...!

“You’re going to regret this,” you say, pulling your head away from his hand.

He laughs, “I regret not doing this sooner.” Jimin was tired of Jin's special treatment of you, all these new rules, all the things you've gotten away with when he wasn't even allowed to drink from you, follow his most basic of urges, it was annoying, you were annoying.

You feel exposed under his penetrating stare, you turn your head and hold your wrist out to Jimin, “Well? Go right ahead.” You think the inevitable has been dragged out long enough.

He looks at your wrist, lips rolling over his tongue as his fingers glide over the thin skin, and then he pulls you closer so you stumble into him, yelping. He looks up and down your body, his hair brushing against your forehead, the strands ticking you. You're supposed to hate each other, but the way he holds you and touches you, it’s too intimate, too rough and too soft for you to make sense of it.

“Do you have to ruin all the dresses we give you?” He noticed the slit you cut into your too long dress.

“Why are they so tight?” you say, watching his eyes as they roam over your exposed skin, feeling hot from his attention. You try to keep your thoughts calm, pure, so he doesn't notice what he's doing to you. “I can barely walk around.”

“Then maybe you should stay on your back,” his voice low and taunting. His free hand reaches for the torn fabric and as quick as a flash Jimin tears the slit higher up to your hip bone.

Your hands attempt to pull the slit closed in vain, and Jimin takes the opportunity to pull at the neckline of your dress, ripping the line even lower, exposing your cleavage to him. You slap him across the face, like you would have done any other man, but Jimin is not just a man, not anymore. He turns his face around and you see his fangs against his curled lip, he looks delighted, like you gave him just the reaction he wanted.

He grabs you around the waist and you feel vertigo as you're thrown across the room. You land on his bed, sinking into the mattress, and before you can scream Jimin is hovering over you.

“Your foreplay sucks.”

Jimin pulls your head back, laughing down at you.

"Get it?" you struggle to speak, “because you're a-”

You scream as Jimin finally bites the column of your neck, his body weight pressing down on you. Pain erupts and you can barely breath. His bite is somehow even more painful than Jin's, you hit his shoulders, pull at his shirt, trying to push him away to release you.

---

“What’s your name?” You can barely hear Seokjin’s voice over the trumpets of the band.

“Jimin.” He yells back.

“Military man,” the bartender nods to his uniform, “This one is on the house.”

“Thanks, um?”

“Seokjin.”

Jimin pulls his bottom lip in, studying the handsome stranger. “Thank you Seokjin.”

---

Jimin pulls away from your neck, breathing heavy. You laugh, and laugh, feeling exhilarated, eyes meeting the vampire while you laugh again. Did you just beat Jimin at his own game?

Your laughter stops when Jimin flips you on your stomach. His fingers dig into your hair, bending your back up to meet his chest. You grunt, jaw slack. “Still waiting to see what you've got, Jimin.”

You’re confusing. Jimin doesn’t even smell fear on you anymore, even when he tightens his grip. You must be feeling overwhelmed, like Jimin, who is trying to make sense of the long forgotten emotions coursing through him right now.

For the first time in a long time, Jimin feels uncomfortable, struggling to make sense of your taunts and why you aren’t submitting. Something unpleasant inside him stirs. He’ll make you regret acting like this, he’ll break you in half until you beg for mercy. He’ll do it. So why isn’t he doing it?

“Well?!”

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” he hisses into your ear.

“So I’ve been told, military man.”

Jimin knows you're goading him, yet still, blind rage courses through his veins, stinging his chest. He rips the back of your dress, tearing it down the center.

Was Jimin fulfilling a twisted fantasy you had ever since you saw Namjoon and Seokjin fuck that nameless woman senseless? Could you admit that to yourself as you feel your core become wetter as he presses his hand down onto your bare back.

You push up on your elbows, but Jimin uses his strength to push you back down, holding your head down. His sharp hearing can hear your muffled moan and the unpleasant feeling in the center of his body twists again.

"You like this?" He groans, affected by the smell of your lust. “Fuck, you act like such a desperate slut.” He palms his dick, needing a release. His moans fill your ears as his stokes himself to the state of your body.

You feel his spit hit your skin, his hard length running along your center, covering his member in your juices and his saliva. His tip teasing your entrance, you push back into him seeking more, and his hands hold you down, making you all the more feverish.

Your arousal hits the vampire’s senses in waves, affecting him more than usual as he tightens his grip to keep you still, focusing on the blood blotting your neck. His cock runs up your slit until he rests over your second hole. You look over your shoulder, prepared to taunt the vampire even more, but his dark expression, filled with carnal desire, slightly unraveled, entirely captivated by you, sends your thoughts into a tailspin.

Jimin pushes his thick length into you, stretching you over his cock, inch by inch until your whole body spasms.

Jimin stayed pressed up against you, a small kindness, his fingers circling your aching core. “Don’t-” you moan, and he stills against you, “d-don’t hold back.”

"I wasn't intending to."

And he doesn't. Your orgasm wracks through you, you feel so full and empty as your walls clench down on nothing while he pounds himself into you relentlessly. You start to shake in overstimulation. His thrusts are wild, your neck is there, you smell so delicious and he's so close to release.

When you come close again, at the peak of arousal, he bites down on your soft skin. You yell, clenching around him even tighter.

“This is your fault.”

You see Tae laugh, so unlike his usual sweet boisterous laugh, he chuckles deep, fighting against the chains around him, his wrist markings glowing gold, then deep orange like fire. “No, this is your fault. You were supposed to kill Jin, we could have had everything we ever wanted. How could you betray me like this?”

Jimin’s hands go lax around your waist, so you put yours over his, holding on as tight as you can.

You see Seokjin and Jimin under a street lamp, you and Jimin watch the way the flies dance around the bulb.

“You’re a vampire.”

Seokjin tenses, so Jimin continues, “I saw you with that girl, the regular with black hair.” His eyes scan the man beside him.

“And what are you going to do now?” Seokjin’s words come out low, almost menacing. Jimin laughs.

“Would you believe me if I said you’re not the strangest thing I’ve seen?” Breaking the awkward silence, Jimin brings an arm over Seokjin’s broad shoulders, pulling the man into a headlock. “I forgive you for always ditching me for lunch.” He teases.

Jimin releases his mouth from your neck.

You shift beneath him to look up at the vampire. Jimin’s bite wasn’t as meticulous as Seokjin’s who knew how to expertly pierce an artery, so you weren’t profusely bleeding, but the wounds still ached. Seokjin has the precision of a doctor, Jimin is messy, wild, his entire front is covered in blood. Jimin's eyes were unfocused, you could tell he was lost in thought.

“Jimin?”

“Enough,” his voice shakily commands you. “I’ll just take the part of you that keeps doing this.”

He pierces your exposed flesh once more concentrating harder.

---

Jimin is tiny. His head reaches the older woman’s knee as he hugs her leg. He points to the butterfly, wings fluttering back and forth slowly as it sits on a leaf Jimin found.

“I fixed it, see!”

“My beautiful son,” she kisses the top of his head, laughing at his cuteness. She looks weak and fragile, sunken eyes and skin pale.

“I’ll fix you too, I’ll learn!” He hugs her leg tighter. She soothes her little boy, knowing it’s already too late for her.

“Grow up to be a doctor, heal people.”

---

He pulls away from you. His eyes look wild, like an animal’s, caught. “Stop looking into my mind!” He screams.

“I can’t control it!” You’re just as stunned as Jimin, you never expected to see a version of himself so innocent.

Jimin holds you down by the neck, he doesn’t squeeze your neck enough to stop your breathing, even though he should, he thinks, he can’t do it, he can’t bring himself to tighten his grip.

“Do it again and I’ll fucking kill you,” he lies.

“I said I can’t control it, asshole!” you struggle against his hold, “Maybe if you weren’t so weak-minded-”

Jimin roars. Pressing his weight back on you, his fangs strike at the sensitive flesh between your collar bone. Your first kiss was so special to you, you could still remember it to this day. You were young, awkward and shy, he was your first crush, a cute boy, his features reminded you of one of your favorite idols at the time, who was-

What did he look like? What was his name? When did he kiss you again? It was after school, you think, you can’t remember. How did he kiss you? That’s right, it was an awkward kiss, because you and him were...friends? Weren’t you? You can’t remember, you can’t remember what had happened, it was so special to you and now it’s gone.

Jimin sucks harder onto your skin, pulling more blood out of you. He took it, your first kiss, you know he did. Jimin, if that sweet little boy could see himself now.

You start to cry. You cry for your stolen first kiss.

His teeth sink into your neck again, pulling more blood greedily, trying to silence the memories he found with the steady beating of your pulse instead. He drags his fangs across your skin, more blood releases, so much blood lost already that everything spins around you. “Jimin!”

He covers your mouth to stop your protests. Jimin seems determined to lose himself again, ravaging your body with more bites. So you close your eyes and your thoughts drift to the young boy.

“Good job!” the soft voice of his mothers fills both your minds. Jimin holds a syringe full of milk to a tiny kitten’s mouth. “You have to take care of her now, remember, treat her gently. There you go!”

“She’s so cute, momma, I love her.”

“You both have to watch out for each other when I’m not around, okay?”

You can hear Jimin whimper into your neck.

You feel sadness wash over you. He could have been a doctor, he could have been a healer. He is, in some twisted way, he been given the gift of healing, and yet he uses it to inflict pain. Even if he wanted to pretend he didn’t experience it, you felt the love that he held so dearly for his mother as a small child. You can hear his laughter, he had the same laugh as his mother.

‘Jimin, I’m going to save you too.’

---

You wake up healed, your head pounding. You look around, Jimin lies next to you, he’s out like a light. You both look like you’ve been in a massacre. Your clothes shredded and blood everywhere. You move away from him, his features look angelic, but his skin is covered in dried blood, like a killer. What the hell happened? You take a step and your legs buckle, you cry out when you knee hits the hard floor. The vampire next to you sways, moves across the bed until he falls completely out of it, groaning.

You crawl your body to the other side of the bed where he is still lying on the floor.

When you look at him again, meeting his eyes, you come to a realization. You know his secret.

“Oh Jimin...”

“Y/n...” his voice is shaky, he covers his face with his hands and his soft cries fill the room. You struggle to get up, everything feels tilted on an axis. You sway and hit furniture as you make your way to the door.

There’s a ringing in your head that won’t leave. You follow the halls down to Seokjin’s office, a place Jimin has been so many times before, retracing his footsteps from a memory of his.

Taehyung’s spell worked just as he said, opening the door to Seokjin’s office, the bright markings glowed and then burnt away from your skin, leaving a trace of ash. ‘Taehyung,’ you’ll have to deal with him later, you think. First you need to get away, as far from the island as you can and try to find Jimin’s family.

There’s a large door to the right of his desk, wood an alien shade of purple. The high pitched ringing in your ears makes the room sway again, but you’re able to grip the handle and fall through to the other side.

---

You sit on the floor of a tiny shop. There’s intricate gold pieces; statues, vases, piled high on countless of glass shelves, every inch of the shop is filled with items, it reminds you of someone but you can’t remember who. You can’t even remember how you got here. Where the hell are you? It feels dangerous, it feels wrong.

You move to a corner and hug your knees to your body. ‘Where am I? Wait, who am I?’ You try to remember anything, any memory from your childhood, from your adulthood. And the past five minutes replays in your mind instead. Gold jewelry in glass cases and the feeling that you shouldn't be here, and a deep voice in your head whispers, “y/n.”

Y/n, is that your name? Your hands skim over the fabric of your torn dress, looking for pockets, looking for anything that might explain something to you. You need to get out of here, you need to leave, but you don’t even know where you are.

You hear a ding, a bell alerting an opening door. You hear a man speak to another. You run out the door while the man behind you lets out a surprised yell to come back.

You run and you run, past buildings past people. You’re barefoot, your clothes hang off you. Eventually you stop. Eventually you decide to ask an old couple who looks unthreatening where you are while you unsuccessfully try not to burst into tears. The old woman holds your hands and strokes your arm to calm you while the husband calls the police.

At first they suspected you were a victim of abuse. They took you to a hospital. The doctors performed several tests on you, each one worse than the last. You had no old memories, and all your new ones were horrible. Clinical, painful, strangers prodding and poking your body. Your dreams were filled of palm trees and warm sunshine on your skin, a sparkling blue ocean, laughter, happiness. So you slept most of the day.

Then one day, detectives came with nurses and they told you who you were. That it took so long because you had been pronounced dead over a month ago. Your parents were on a flight to come get you. You listened to them explain the events hoping to have a jog of memory but nothing comes. They talk about the boat, the crash, no survivors. Always another horrible new piece of information. When will it end?

When your parents picked you up, a lovely man and woman who you tried desperately to remember, the hospital staff gave you a bag with the clothes they found you in. There was a gold pocket watch, an item you didn’t remember having, but you didn’t remember anything, so it didn’t surprise you. You told them to throw everything away, but you kept the watch with you.

You have to stay with them, everything in your life had been reduced to a few boxes they had kept. You lost your home, your identity, you had no money, no job, the only thing you acquired during this whole time was a death certificate.

You start remembering your childhood, slowly at first, a memory here and there, a fall and cut knee, a tea party with stuffed animals, a school field trip, and then years at a time.

You found yourself again. You remembered who you were, your entire life up until you didn’t, the memories fracturing at the end, and the harder you tried to remember how you could have ended up in a different country across the world, your mind would construct horrible images instead, blood, drowning, and death. You couldn’t bare to think of it.

---

“Y/n!” you make your way into the coffee shop, you reconnected with some old childhood friends now that you were back in your hometown.

“Hey, oh my god, who is this big cutie?” Your friend’s dog barks excitedly while you fluff the black fur on his head. He’s so cute, his ears flop to the side with each happy bark.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re...well you’re crying?” She looks at you concerned.

You touch your wet cheeks. Why? You don’t know when it started, but as your friend’s dog nudges his head into your palm for more pets, your heart aches.

---

One night, a crazy thought enters your mind. You want to go back to that shop. You want answers. You leave a note for your parents telling them your intentions and pack your freshly made identification cards and travel documents into a suitcase.

So here you are again, in a foreign country, alone again, filled with purpose that seems to pull you in despite how terrified you are.

You scroll through your phone while you lie on the hard foreign hotel mattress. You open a map of where you are on your phone, and zoom out until you see water.

There's islands around the peninsula, you zoom into each one and search each name on your phone, learning each habitat, who lives there, if it is accessible. You do that to pass the time until you fall asleep.

“It’s too dangerous.”

You reach for the merman, grabbing at Yoongi’s shirt and pulling him closer, your eyes meeting his. “Explain.”

Yoongi is taken aback, licking his lips trying to think of a good way to start. "We made a blood pact to protect this island from the outside world, it's indiscoverable and once anyone does come here, they can't leave."

"Why..." you let go of his shirt, but he stays close, "Why would you do that?"

"Think, just think what you humans have done to the world...the others needed some place safe to go to and I-" the merman huffs, "At the time, I thought...well, they were...at the time I didn't mind sharing the island with them. "

Your fingers roll over the bracelets Yoongi put on you. "That was nice of you." The merman glares at you in return.

"You know, they'd come here, we all spent time together." Yoongi's stare is faraway and distant. "In the beginning, at least."

"I-I'm sorry." You hold his hand, and he stares at your fingers only briefly before shaking you off.

"Whatever, I'm surprised they didn't start trying to tear each others throats out sooner," He mutters. "We had portals of course to leave when we wanted to, but one day Namjoon and those dumb dogs destroyed all the portals-"

"What?! Why would they do that?"

"I don't know all the details, but I believe Namjoon did it to protect the rest of his pack. I can respect him for that...but the problem is they trapped us all here like idiots!"

"Is that why you're helping Jin and Jimin?"

"What? To get back at Namjoon? Pfft no. Jin came to me with a deal. He looked off, sick, and he offered me anything I wanted, so I helped him. That's it."

"So technically you can leave the island?"

"I can swim the waters, but I can only go so far, the magic always pulls me back eventually, it's useless to try," he mutters.

You hum.

"Anyways, what Namjoon doesn't know is Jin used some leftover magic and created a portal. Jin has lots of friends that serve him, owe him favors, he uses it as a delivery system."

"So you think if I?"

"That's the only portal I know of, but the magic is dangerous, the vampires put so many protections on their house, they won't even go through it themselves, there has to be a reason, right?"

"I...I'll take my chances."

"They wont even chance going through it, and you will?"

"Yes! And what if I can find a way to break the spell? Then you can finally leave! Yoongi, you have to let me at least try!"

"You're going to get yourself killed one way or another," Yoongi scoffs.

"No, I refuse to believe that."

"You're impossible to understand."

"I'm going through that portal. Then I'll come back for you."

"Wait, you'll come back?" Yoongi asks.

"Well, yeah, if you help me, a deal is a deal. Yoongi please, help me come up with a plan and I swear to you I'll come back with your payment. You're the only one who can search the ocean, you just have to find me again, so what do you say merman?"

"I'll find you again."

---

Your alarm wakes you up. 'What a weird dream,' it felt so realistic. Like all your dreams, the more you think about it, the less you remember, but that man's scarred eyes, whose name you forgot already, they stay with you.

You brush your teeth and wash your face. You notice something as you rinse off your skin. 'What the hell is that?' You inspect the gold writing behind your ear. Taking some more soap, you work to remove it but it doesn’t come off, the glittery ink is permanent. You rubbed your skin raw trying to take it off, it didn’t look like a tattoo, but nothing you did would get rid of the gold markings. You pace around your hotel room, things are getting weirder and you start to feel a nagging sense of dread, but there's a voice inside you that says to keep going until you find the answers you are looking for.

You don't walk right into the shop at first, instead casing out the place. You drink coffee at a nearby restaurant and keep watch on the shop. There are not many visitors, and those who do enter are not who you would expect. You would think maybe some older people who were looking for vintage items would decide to enter, or eccentric younger people, but it was almost always a intimidatingly large man entering, bringing items in rather than taking items out.

You’ve gotten into the habit of playing with the gold chain around your neck, the gold pocket watch had become a permanent accessory.

It's almost closing time for the restaurant, so you reluctantly make your way to the shop, and walk in after a group of tourists.

The shop looks different than what you remember, new items litter the shelves. You hide behind the large cases, studying the objects, until you come across something that makes you hesitate. A necklace with a large red gem hidden behind a thick glass case with a lock.

“You’re that girl! You...you came back.” Your head turns into the direction of the voice, a very old man stares back at you. He looks at you incredulously while you can only stare back dumbly. “C'mon, let’s go,” the old man says, he grabs your elbow. “Seokjin should be awake by now.”

“Let me go! You can’t keep me here!” You pull away from his grasp, your hand tightens around the amulet.

He laughs at you amused, giving you some space. “You walked into my shop, did you not? You don’t want to talk to Seokjin?”

“I…” Do you?! Would he know what happened to you, why does it make you shiver hearing his name.

Wait...you look down at your hand, to make sure you didn't imagine it, and there you see the necklace in the middle of your palm, heavy in your hand, you hide it behind your back, looking over your shoulder to the empty case, the shock of it makes you freeze.

The man looks at you cautiously, “Why are you here, girl? Are you here for Seokjin?”

Seokjin. That name fills you with dread. A vision of a man flashes across your mind only briefly, “I d-don’t know.” The old man raises an eyebrow at you. “Stay here, girl. I'll be right back.”

Where is he going? What is he going to do with you? Your mind spins and the skin behind your ear stings. 'Now y/n. Do it now.' that deep voice is back. You panic when the old man comes back with two others.

'Use the watch, y/n. Use the watch. NOW!'

---

“On one condition, just one.” Jimin hisses.

As you lie on the ground you feel like the weight of the world just crashed upon you. Your chest feels like it’s going to explode, there’s a ringing in your ears, the skin behind your ear still burns hot.

Jimin noticed the sudden shift in your demeanor, the way your heart begins to race as you start to break down. Every day, starting on the night your boat was capsized, replays in your mind as you start to remember your time on the island. You see Taehyung, who looks at you and then his eyes go wide, realizing the situation, eyes ablaze with growing excitement.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Taehyung’s deep baritone voice breaks the silence. You can only take in shaky breaths as your tear filled eyes try to focus on where you are. You traveled back in time, precisely twelve weeks to the second, you’re back on the island, thrown back into your nightmare like you never left. The only difference now is your left hand clutches a second pocket watch, now broken, and your right hand clutches the amulet.

Jimin looks between you and Taehyung. “What have you done?” Jimin accuses Taehyung, whose eyes haven’t left yours. Taehyung’s lips curve into an encouraging smile, he holds out his chained wrists to you. The vampire whips his head in your direction, but it’s already too late. You throw the amulet into Taehyung’s awaiting hands. You didn’t want to give it to him, but as if Taehyung had pulled strings around your body, you complied to his silent request. The minute the gem touches his skin, the gold markings around his wrists burn away.

The explosion knocks you back meters, everything is broken, everything is dust, you can’t see and your body aches. You hear screaming and yelling and groans of pain. You crawl through the debris searching for a way out.

Red light flashes through the smoke. You choose to crawl towards it, hearing Jin’s loud booming voice.

Taehyung pulls you back, his body behind you like it just materialized out of thin air. "C’mon y/n. Let’s escape."

“This...This is all your fault!” He looked surprised by your reaction.

“What you think you know, you’re mistaken.” He lifts you to your feet easily.

It feels like the air around you is vibrating, your body feels lighter in Taehyung’s presence.

“Please let me go,” you cry.

“Don’t worry, once we escape, we’ll be fine again.” His hand holds your hip tight to his body as he drags you in the direction of the portal.

Seokjin crashes into you both, knocking Taehyung away from you. You hear their struggle, and you’re back to crawling away through the smoke helplessly. Your fingers hit the hard cold gem of the amulet, and you wrap the chain around your fingers.

You can’t remember how you found the stairs, the wood half shattered, or the exit, blown wide open by magic, you can’t remember leaving the mansion, you just remember once your bare feet hit the soft grass outside you ran and you didn’t stop running, until you heard the sounds of waves. You ran until water hit your feet and then you screamed.

---

YAY I FINISHED THIS MONSTER OF A CHAPTER (Get it? I’ll shut up). Thank god, I felt as trapped in this chapter as y/n in that damn room :’). Okay, but now we’re getting somewhere! What do you think is going to happen now? Looks like this story might finally be headed off the island :D. I’m excited!

Questions to ponder for the next chapter: What is Jimin’s secret? Looks like there was a good reason for keeping Taehyung locked away, so what is his ultimate goal? What did Taehyung do to you? And why are Jin and Namjoon no longer friends?! Those are just some of the questions floating around in my mind as I am writing the next chapter, now do you have any questions you want answers to? Let me know! <3

[jostenneil]

so i wanted to make a more in-depth post with manga panels to kind of build up my defense of why i think hohenheim is really harshly misjudged by the fandom at the large. this isn’t to say i think all of his choices were pristine or free of criticism, but i think people tend to not give him the benefit of the doubt where it ought to be due because they’re often analyzing his character exclusively from ed’s pov rather from the pov of an eventually omniscient audience, and each lens builds a very different analysis and picture of his character (+ as someone mentioned, there are pretty distinct differences in between the way the anime adaptations portray him and the way the manga portrays him). essayed rambling under the cut 

when hohenheim leaves resembool, ed and al are more or less toddlers. it’s expected that their memories of him are severely obscured and that, esp in ed’s case, this is going to impact how hohenheim is viewed by them, regardless of whatever his reasons are for leaving. ed is supposed to be an unreliable narrator to an extent bc he’s operating purely off of obscurity of information and projected grief and frustration, and that’s normal. he was a child when all of this happened, and he can’t be expected to feel completely rational about it. but the thing is, a defense of hohenheim isn’t meant to somehow criticize ed - not even the manga tries to do that. on multiple occasions, hohenheim expresses regret and apologizes to others for not being able to fulfill his duties as a parent 

where i think people tend to go astray in their assignment of blame to hohenheim is in the details of how much he did or didn’t know about what happened to trisha (and then the kids) before finally returning to resembool ten years later, and his responsibility or fault as a parent by way of that. trisha is hardly into her twenties when hohenheim leaves, and she theoretically has her whole life ahead of her. she and hohenheim even make a promise to each other to grow old and die together, so she knows he’s supposed to come back and is never operating under the assumption that he won’t. she just knows it’ll take time. what hohenheim is unable to account for is the sickness that passes through town soon after and takes trisha’s life, and additionally the fact that no one knows how to reach him to let him know. resembool is a small farming town out in the middle of nowhere. the news of a woman dying of illness isn’t something worthy of being projected all across the country to the point that hohenheim might actually hear of it 

additionally, trisha dies in 1904 (according to brotherhood, at least, we aren’t given a specific year in the manga and can only operate off of her having died sometime shortly before the conclusion to the ishvalan war in 1908), and not much happens for five or so years afterward. izumi takes on ed and al as apprentices shortly before the war ends, and the brothers attempt to resurrect their mother sometime after january 1910, according to a photo of them as normal children in one of pinako’s photo albums. mustang visits them shortly thereafter, and ed recovers for a year before applying to become a state alchemist. there’s another photo in one of the albums that shows he receives the watch in october 1911, so at best, he’s been a state alchemist for three years or less before the events of the main story begin. i also think it’s worthy of note that ed initially gives false information to the amestrian military personnel with regards to his automail. he tells them he has it as a result of the ishvalan war. obv, there’s other personnel he and al meet as the story progresses who learn the truth about what they did, but it’s not some publicly known fact, and strangers they meet are surprised and shocked if or when ed and al divulge the story to them 

with all this in mind, hohenheim returns to resembool maybe three years since ed takes upon his state alchemist duties. there’s nothing out of the ordinary about his demeanor as he returns, until he walks to where his house is supposed to be to see that it’s no longer there, and he goes to pinako’s house in confusion. he and ed reunite in the following chapter at trisha’s grave, and hohenheim mumbles about trisha and their promise in a daze as ed rages about him. we also find out that pinako told him about ed and al performing human transmutation. so most explicitly, we learn through this scene that he had no idea of what his sons had done while he was gone (aside from ed becoming a state alchemist), and implicitly, there’s also an impression given that in addition to not expecting to see his house burned down, he didn’t expect to learn that trisha had died either. remember, she was hardly into her twenties when he left. thirty wasn’t an unrealistic age for a healthy person to live to and he always expected he would come back to her and they would resume their lives together. maybe one can argue that he did find out somehow by word of mouth in central city, but why would the public at large be concerned with whether the fullmetal alchemist had a mother or not?  

additionally, what i dislike about brotherhood’s portrayal of hohenheim’s return is that it obscures a lot of the conversations he has with both ed and pinako. he’s painted to be far more aloof and bordering on cold in the anime (and admittedly that works for an ed-based perspective of the scene, bc he’s not working off of all of the facts), but in the manga he’s awkward, lost, confused, and remorseful. even the way the final part of this conversation with ed is portrayed is a bit different in the manga bc of hohenheim’s wording. obv from ed’s perspective hohenheim’s analysis of his reasons for burning down the house is an attack on his and al’s wrongs, but taking into account what we know about the series and hohenheim’s backstory as a whole, it’s later easy to see that hohenheim is expressing regret and sorrow bc he knows exactly what ed feels like from personal experience. he’s not trying to chide ed or make him feel bad. he just understands him deeply and is sorry and confused that ed and al had to go through something of this magnitude

later with pinako, hohenheim also wonders why no one guided them otherwise, and it’s at this point that she criticizes him for failing to contact ed and al over the years that he was gone. i wholeheartedly believe she’s right to criticize him, esp since, like ed, she’s operating from a pov that doesn’t account for the fact trisha knew more about hohenheim’s reasons for leaving than she did; but i do think people nonetheless tend to approach the circumstances around hohenheim returning from a bit of a narrowed perspective. we already know per hohenheim and trisha’s promise that she always expected him to come back and knew she simply had to wait. did ed and al know that, though, or could she have predicted she would have died before hohenheim returned? no, and that’s not the kids’ fault. but i also think people fail to take into account that there’s not a lot hohenheim could have told a pair of kids who weren’t even ten years old about needing to be away from home because he needed to prepare for the day a homunculus would swallow their country whole. there’s a clever reference to what happened in xerxes in one of the books ed and al study as they try to learn how to bring back trisha, and they dismiss the story as a fairytale, with ed reasoning human transmutation is forbidden simply bc no one knows how to do it. there’s also the conversation between al and hohenheim later in the manga where hohenheim reveals his backstory and comments that he’d seriously doubt the sanity of anyone who'd so blindly believe him after his prolonged absence, but al expresses that it’s a truth easier for him to accept bc of his own condition. ed accepts it, too, but he’s clearly rattled by it all  

i think a lot of people take for granted whether a pre-human transmutation ed and al would have believed hohenheim even if he’d tried to divulge the truth to them at that age. at worst, it would sound like a ridiculous excuse to get away, and at best, they would still grow up feeling largely abandoned even if they somehow managed to understand that he had a responsibility. i don’t mean to say that all of these abnormal circumstances somehow give hohenheim total grace. he’s made mistakes in parenting, he knows it, he faces criticism from the ones that it’s hit the hardest, and he makes conscious attempts to rectify what wrongs he can. but i also think people sort of blindly assume that he immediately knew about trisha dying and the boys needing him in the aftermath of that, or that him calling in a few times would have solved all problems when he ultimately needed to be on the move constantly to prepare for the promised day in time. hohenheim was housing a little more than half a million souls that he had to steadily deposit around the country, and preparing for and executing that took him countless years. hohenheim and trisha made a promise to each other and it was painful, obv, but it was one they committed to and that neither of them expected to be broken so soon. hohenheim had faith in trisha that she would raise the boys properly until he returned, and she took upon that burden knowing what he had to do and that he would return to her. outside circumstances unfortunately damned them to their fates, and that’s where the series has its foundations

i agree with most people that it’s inaccurate to say hohenheim was a perfect parent, but at the same time, i don’t think being a good parent and being a perfect (or near perfect) parent are quite the same thing. to me, it’s not just about whether you’re there for your children physically but about what you do for them in principle. if he wanted to, hohenheim could have stayed home and damned not just another country (of fifty million people, as mustang later states, versus xerxes’s approximate one million population) but his own family to eternal purgatory and agony within the conjured body of a self-made god. but the truth is that hohenheim loved his family enough to do the difficult thing, and he decided to suffer a few more years so that he could live happily with them forever. his commitment to that endeavor, to me, was the ultimate representation of his desire to commit to his family and overcome his fears about being a monster unworthy of raising them. and ultimately, it didn’t work out exactly as he’d hoped, but it’s the fact that everything he did was for his family that gets to me and that i think people are all too willing to ignore in their assessment of him, in addition to people acting like just bc ed thinks one way, we, the omniscient audience, have to think the same way as well. ed is all of justified in his anger, and it’s unfair that he and al had to suffer through what they did, but i don’t think it’s farfetched to say he eventually would have understood why hohenheim made the sacrifices he did, and that his intentions were earnest, even if the outcomes were traumatic. sometimes that’s just the way life is, and we have to have the courage to move forward in the face of that adversity and strife. it’s the ultimate message of the series, and i think it’s one that applies as aptly to hohenheim as it does to ed himself