#lear rib

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Chapter 36: "Exile"

"You're not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes The Twin Flame Chapter List | The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe

Sam POV

"Karli!"

"Karli!" Sam bellows, seeing Karli kneel over you, her hands covered in your blood.

With the last strength and energy you can muster, you force your heavy eyelids back open, reeling yourself back in for the last time. 

"It's okay. She's helping me." You hold out a weak, shaky hand to him, stopping him dead in his tracks. Sam's blood runs cold. His heart pounds against his rib cage, so loudly he can hear the blood roaring in his ears. He felt frozen, numb, and yet, he's certain he's never moved faster in his life. You chuckle, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye, "Hey, Sam."

Sam's eyes frantically rake over your body, trying to process everything all at once.

"It's fine. You're- you're gonna be fine," he promises, though he's not quite sure if it's more to you or to himself. 

There's so much blood. Blood everywhere. Pooled on the ground. Covering your hands. It rapidly seeps out from the wound beneath Karli's hands. There's so much blood he can't even find the wound anymore. 

"Would you believe me if I said it was a flesh wound?"

He knows you're hurting. He hears it in the labored breaths you take. He can see the fear in your eyes. And still, you're doing anything to make Sam feel better, to make this easier on him. 

He halfheartedly laughs, tears welling in his eyes, "No."

"Barely even hurts."

It's not a very good lie. You both know that. It's the most unfounded, foolishly hopeful lie he's ever heard, and still, he holds onto it like it's all he has.

Because it is all he has.

"Just a scratch," Sam chortles, a tear slipping down his cheek.

You look up at him, once again attempting to console him, "I'm gonna be okay."

He gulps, nodding his head as he furiously wipes away the tear, "Yeah, yeah, you're gonna be fine. It's not that bad. We're gonna get you all fixed up."

You softly exhale, "Okay."

You're unable to bite back the pained whimper that leaves you mouth when Sam scoops you up from the ground, "Just hold on, alright?"

The muscles in Sam's jaw ticks as he tries to keep any more tears from spilling down his cheeks. This couldn't be happening. Not again. He couldn't lose you. Not like this.

He takes off, his muscles straining as he holds you in his arms, doing his very best to keep from jostling you around.

"I fought back Sam, I swear I did," you quietly murmur, just barely loud enough for his ears to pick up. 

"I know. I know," he hushes you. "You're gonna be okay. Don't worry about that."

His assurances don't stop you from trying to explain. If this is it, you want him to know that you did everything you could to come back from this. "There was too many of them. I- I couldn't-"

"It's okay. You did so good. I'm so proud of you." Sam finds the words pouring out of his mouth. They're not words of resignation but he knows they may as well be. By all standards of the definition, those words would be very, very nice last words. He just needs you to hear this, even if it is just this once. "I've always been so proud of you."

You give him a weak smile. It's all you've ever wanted to hear him say. 

He hated how he'd never said it before.

It only adds insult to injury. 

He watched life put you through the wringer. Watched it chew you up and spit you back out. It seemed like Sam had a special front row seat to your suffering in this world. And as he raced his way through corridors, he wished he would've told you that.

This feeling was not unfamiliar to Sam.

It wasn't even really unique to you. He'd lost a partner before, lost a best friend exactly like this. It never got any easier. The pain never quite went away, only dulled with time. 

This was a wound he wasn't sure would ever dull. He wasn't sure how exactly he could learn to live with this, learn to live in a world where you simply didn’t exist. All he knew is he'd done this before, braced himself for the worst, waited with bated breath, felt the anticipation crush him from the inside out. 

He wasn’t over exaggerating when he said you did this a lot. Didn't fight back. Allowed yourself to be hurt. He'd almost lost you one too many times. 

It didn't matter how many times he told you that there was no virtue in suffering, that you had nothing to atone for. You never quite believed it. You never believed that people would see the good in you. You convinced yourself that you had to be a hero, that you had to make your life worth something. He only wished he told you that it was worth everything.

It hurts more because this time he knows in the depth of his bones that you did, you did fight back. He doesn't need a play by play to know you did everything you could to come back from this. All he knows is that, tonight, that might not have been enough.

And that hurts even more. 

As that sinking feeling swells in the pit of his stomach, he wished he told you that. He wishes he told you that you were worth so much more than you thought, that you deserved everything this world had to offer, but mostly, he wished he told you what he knows no one else ever had, something he knows you'd never believe, that you deserved so much more than you got. 

It was interesting to Sam, how moment like these seemed to stop time, to bring it to a screeching halt. Soaring through the night sky, running through the underground maze, time ceases with your life hanging in the balance.

There was no forgetting those life or death, stomach knotting, heart stopping moments. The feeling radiates from his bones, sending chills and goosebumps up his skin and trailing down his spine as he wills himself to stay calm. 

But there was no erasing the feeling of holding your best friend's lifeless frame in his arms from his memory.

He's seen this film before. He knows how it ends. 

It was a film reel that would never fade. One that had a permanent residence in his mind for moments just like this. Moments that he knows all too well. After all, who would know better than the person that had a front row seat to it all? 

The memories rush forward, pummeling Sam over and over again:

"Rumlow's headed for the Council," Maria Hill shouts into her comms device. "41st floor, Sam."

"I'm on it," Sam grunts, sprinting up the staircase of SHIELD headquarters. He flies through the doorway, throwing a fist right into Brock Rumlow's jaw without a second thought. "Where is she?" 

Sam goes for another quick jab, only for it to be deflected. With a strong lunge that knocks Sam off his feet, Rumlow chuckles, "Doesn't matter anymore. You're too late."

"What did you do to her?" Sam seethes, his anger and worry only compounding with every single minute of radio silence since you'd walked into SHEILD headquarters and never walked out.

"She just wouldn't shut up," Rumlow taunts, rolling his eyes. "She told us that she'd never stop fighting us, that her friends were coming, something about justice, I wasn't really listening, she just wouldn't stop talking... so we threw her brain in the blender. She doesn't even know who you are anymore."

A pained gasp leaves Sam's mouth. It feels like his lungs were being squeezed of all oxygen, "You're lying."

"You never should've let her walk into the meeting with Pierce, she walked right into his trap, you know?"

"Shut the hell up," Sam bellows, tackling the man into the glass control panel behind him. He pins Rumlow, "Tell me where she is."

"I was there, you know?"

"Tell me where she is!" Sam demands. 

"HYDRA doesn't take prisoners, Wilson. We only accept order. And order only comes with pain." Rumlow slips out of Sam's grasp, landing several punches into Sam's sides. Rumlow menacingly snickers, wiping the blood pooling from the corner of his mouth as the two of them stand up. "You should feel so honored. She respected the hell out of you, swore up until the very end that you were coming for her."

"She got all weepy." Rumlow punctuates every antagonizing sentence with a sharp punch. "She screamed for you. Cried when we strapped her down. But you never came."

Sam would later come to learn that it wasn't true, just a lie to get into his head.

He was fairly sure that was exactly what they were going to do to you given the chance, but thankfully, Maria Hill had smuggled you out of SHIELD headquarters just in the nick of time. 

His muscles burn with exhaustion, still running to get you out of this forsaken place. He can't help but remembering. There's nothing to do but remember. Remember each and every time you'd almost lost your life, every time he'd almost lost his long lost sister. 

It was probably the closest you'd ever come to the point of no return. And still, the most brutal blow came from a person you both called a friend.

Sam had a front row seat to the whole altercation, even mid-battle, he'd seen it, every moment, every detail. And to this day, he couldn't erase the feeling of holding your lifeless body in his arms, your blood, still warm, staining his hands. Deja vu washes over him, reliving the painful moment all over again.

It was exactly like this. 

He flew over the collapsing flight tower at the airport in Berlin, Rhodey trying to shoot the Quinjet down, Sam chasing him down to stop him. He looked back for a split second to find you standing in front of Tony Stark, begging Tony to reconsider, begging him to let Steve and Bucky go. 

He couldn't make out the words Tony was saying to you, he could only hear your words through your comms device, "You know what they'll do to me."

"I'm sorry."

The moment those words left your mouth, Sam's head snapped over his shoulder just in time to see the person you both called a friend raise his canon and take the shot.

He still remembers what was running through his head as Tony took aim at you: there was no way you were going to actually let him shoot you, you wouldn't do that, you were going to jump out of the way, you were going to realize that your life meant more than winning this stupid battle for this stupid civil war.

"What are you doing?" Sam frantically speaks into the comms device, trying to reach you before it's too late, "This is not the plan. I repeat, this is not the plan."

But it was clear to Sam that you were both too gone to hear anything anyone else was saying. Tony too angry. And you too willing to give yourself up as the sacrificial lamb.

It happened so fast, yet the moment seemed to last a lifetime. 

The blow sending you hurling back, your body skid against the pavement, only for your head to smack against the ground with a sickening crack. It seemed like the moment stopped everyone, he could almost hear the collective gasps from his team mates. It seemed like everyone watched in abject horror. No one could believe it. No one could believe that this is what had become of your team, your found family.

He remembered trying to convince himself that you were just going to pop back up, that you would stand up and bellow an assurance to your team that you were okay.

None of those things happened.

Before he knew it, he was diving to dodge a blast from Vision, one that send Rhodey hurling to the ground. 

It was all a blur, scrambling across the airfield to make it to you. And what he found would forever imprinted in his memory. He found you all alone, sprawled out on the pavement, unmoving.

"Oh God," he quietly gasped, awkwardly landing on the ground. He barely landed on his feet, too focused on making sure you were okay.

"Hey, hey, you have to get up now," he frantically nudged you. scooping you up in his arms. Completely unresponsive, your head slumps back. He tapped at your cheeks, shook you as hard as he could, still no response. He raised his two fingers to check your pulse, and relief only incrementally came when he felt your pulse still beating underneath his fingertips. "Please, you have to get up. Come on, please, get up." 

He removed his head from the back of your head, only to find his hand now covered in your blood. 

"Help, we need help over here!" he screamed, pleading with whoever would listen. "Please, please, please, we need help!"

Help never came.

Instead, he had to helplessly watch as your unconscious body is thrown with the rest of Team Cap onto an armored truck to haul you away to the Raft. 

"Don't touch her. Don't you touch her!" he recalled screaming as they tore your unmoving body from him. Then, he watched them throw you on the floor of the truck like you weren't an actual human being.

For that split second, he hates Tony Stark.

For that split second, he hates Bucky Barnes.

For that split second, he hates Steve Rogers.

He hates everything and everyone that brought you that close to death.

The last time it happened was a pain that he shared with half of the universe. He couldn't deny that he felt more protective of you in the aftermath of the Blip.

But, he supposes that watching your best friend disappear into thin air would do that to a person.

“Sam?” you call, stumbling through the Wakandan forest. "Steve? Where are you, guys?"

“Over here,” he frantically shouts back. He looks to Steve, who also searches the forest for any signs of Thano's destruction, "What just happened?" 

“Hey, Sam,” you shakily exhale, finally in Sam’s line of sight. You stop a few feet away from him, a strange, distant look on your face as you stumble. He catches you before you hit the ground. “Sam, I don’t- I don’t feel so good.”

His breath catches in his throat when he sees your hand start to dust, little particles floating away in the air. “No!”

“Awww,” you whine, looking down at your hand slowly disappearing. “Why is it always me?”

And then you were gone. Right before Sam’s eyes. 

Even though he blipped just moments after you, he would never forget the heart-stopping helplessness he felt in that very moment. 

And here it was once again. Down to the depths of his soul, he's not sure how much more either of you could take. He couldn't keep watching you be torn apart. There was no world in which he would be okay with that, no war worth winning, no victory worth claiming.

For a split second, he wonders if it might be better like this, maybe this was the only way the universe would allow you to rest. He regrets it immediately.

This wasn't for the best. Not at all. 

Whether you believed it or not, the world needed you. Not as a weapon or a hero, but as the beacon of light you were. In a world without hope, with darkness constantly looming just over the horizon, you were needed. He needed you. His family needed you. Bucky needed you. 

He soars through the air, cutting through the chaos and straight to the sounds of ambulance sirens. 

"She needs help," Sam immediately tells a paramedic the moment his feet touch the ground. 

"Sir, we've got a full-" A small gasp slips from the paramedics mouth when they see the pale pallor and pool of blood staining your favorite shirt, your lucky shirt. That was never a good sign.

They immediately nod, sprinting to grab a gurney. Relief only comes in a small dose for Sam, but at least he was close to getting you the help you needed. 

"Thank you." Sam decisively nods at the EMT running back with a team of paramedics and a stretcher in tow. He gently places you on the gurney, the sirens blaring above him, "You're gonna be okay." 

You reach for his hand as he sets you down. Sam has to bite back the sob that builds in the back of his throat at the feeling of your once warm hand turned ice cold. You softly call out for him, "Sam?"

"I'm here," he promises, squeezing your hand. 

"Karli..." Your singular word sounds more like a question rather than a statement. Even as you lie against the gurney, relishing in the warmth of the paper thin sheets, your wild eyes bounce back and forth as you search for her in the frenzy. "Karli."

"They've got her," Sam assures you. "Don't worry, they got her."

"No," you weakly object, his assurances alarming you more than soothing your worries. You clumsily try lifting the oxygen mask off of your face. You frantically shake your head as you fail to sit up. You feel utterly helpless as your vision whirls around, splotches of darkness and bout of dizziness swell as you feel consciousness slipping away from you. You can barely lift your head, fervently shaking it.

A pained groan leaves your mouth as you try to will yourself to focus on the kid that you know desperately needs your help right now. She was just a kid. You couldn't let them have her, too. 

"You need to lie back," one of the EMTs sharply instructs. "Just relax, you've lost a lot of blood."

You keep shaking your head as Sam stands over you, keeping a firm hand on your arm to keep you down, "No, Sam, we've - we have to help her- can't let them have her."

It hits him in that moment. You don't have to say anything more. It all clicks into place. You don't want what happened to you, to happen to Karli. You don't want them to have her. 

It practically tears him in two. He knows you're right. If they get their hands on Karli, she would never know freedom again. They would turn her into a weapon, a tool at their disposal, or they'd lock her away for the rest of her life. 

But you needed him, too.

He looks down and sees his best friend dying before his very eyes. You're slipping away and he's so acutely aware of that. You needed help, help that couldn't be given if you were out tracking down Karli. And he's not quite sure that you or him would ever be able to forgive yourselves if you didn't save Karli from that cruel fate.

He looks down at you, pleading, "We have to get you to a hospital."

Your hand twitches, he guesses that was your attempt to squeeze his hand back. You're fading a lot quicker than you're letting on, and still, you're fighting.

You'd always fight.

It's your fatal flaw and greatest strength.

You'd always get back up. You'd always fight, until your very last breath.

"She's just a kid. Please."

"Ma'am, we need you to relax and stop moving," the EMT orders.

"Sam," you beg. "Please."

In Sam's peripheral, he sees Bucky darting through the crowded, chaotic street looking for you. "Sam!" Bucky shouts the moment he sees Sam. "Sam, did you-"

A shocked breath leaves Bucky's mouth, "Oh God."

Sam's eyes dart between you and Bucky for a moment. There isn't a lot of time, for you or for Karli. His eyes flicker away from you and onto Bucky. He silently begs Bucky, pleading with him to take care of you, "Stay with her?"

Bucky firmly nods, swallowing the lump in his throat, "Always."

Sam's eyes flicker back to you, squeezing your hand one last time, "Stay alive."

"I think I've seen this film before and I didn't like the ending..."

The Twin Flame Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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<< Chapters 1-5 Chapters 6-10

Chapter 6

The brewery was an unassuming stucco building a few blocks from the university. One of Lear’s murals covered the east wall—a massive, dynamic figure carved with intricate geometric textures. An article once described his work as Klimpt meets Basquiat, but Lear’s murals were mathier—frenetic, for sure, but playing more with geometry and dimension. He used clay and wood to give the paint and figures a kinetic, blocky depth, painted gold and carved with reticulated patterns. Even amidst Valpo’s cacophony of street art, it stood out. 

I checked my phone. 2:04 PM. Lear’s been to jail, I thought. I could ask him what it’s like. If the gang does have something nefarious planned, I could just offer to turn myself in. I’d get swept off to the US federal prison system, and they’d never see or hear from me again, as good as dead. After a few more shaky breaths, I marched my badass black boots through the graffitied steel door.

The brewery proper was a maze of stainless steel metal vessels, lined up like redwoods on either side of the cavernous back room. It was like walking into a grand estate, or a prison. Squat windows near the ceiling drained light in, casting the brewery in sleepy, afternoon blue. Every step echoed. I was almost at the opposite end of the building when Lear popped out from behind a brew kettle. I nearly shot out of my shoes.

Lear looked like an arrow—rail-thin, sharp features, long gray hair puffing out from under his beanie. The wrinkles of his drawn face pointed up towards his high forehead, so he always looked like he was pitying you. “Whoa, whoa!” He checked his watch, then spread his balsa-wood arms, snapping his fingers like jabs. “Don’t be so jumpy-y-y.”

There was a dark spot under his linen shirt where he kept his gun. A deep breath balmed my frazzled nerves. “H-hey, Lear. The crew around?”

“Might be. You got your computer?”

I hugged my laptop bag and nodded.

“Cool. Let’s jam.” Lear swaggered into the shadow between the back 2 brew kettles, checking his wrist and whistling Ennio Morricone. 

I didn’t follow. “Lear, p-please tell me what this is about.”

Lear’s tight shoulders slumped. He pursed his heart-shaped lips. “Come on, now, don’t make this hard on me.” His voice was flat. Panic reached up from my stomach and choked me. I backed up, but bumped something solid and warm. I spun, twitchy as prey. Cat raised her wooly-bear-caterpillar eyebrows at me.

Cat was the muscle in the crew, a big woman with a strong jaw, long silky hair, and a manslaughter rap Lear helped her out of. Her grease-stained tank top showed off meaty arms holding a tall baking dish with a lid on it. “Hey, Dom.” 

“You’re late!” Lear scolded, jutting his knobby chin out at her. “Jig’s up, I guess.” Throwing an arm around my shoulders, Lear pulled me with him around the corner towards a black shadow between cylinders. My heart hammered my ribs. The dark alcove in front of me, Cat behind me blocking the exit. There was nowhere to go. 

“Lear, please, just wait. You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, I think I do.” Lear clapped his hands once, the sound shuddering against the stainless-steel kettles.

“No, really, I promise, I’ll leave and you’ll never-”

Overhead fluorescents blinked to life over the picnic table we used to look over blueprints, count money, and eat greasy takeout. It was Jackson-Pollucked with every color of sticky acrylic paint. Unfamiliar paper cones were stacked on it. Inscrutable chalk-scrawls covered an ancient, wheeled blackboard situated beside an equally antique television, also on wheels. Paper streamers hung haphazardly off pipes and valves. A few feet back, U.H. stood beside the fuse box in skinny jeans and a pornhub hoodie, their phone in one hand. “Um. Surprise?”

Behind me, Lear crackled out a raucous chorus of cumpleaños feliz. I twisted around in time to see him elbow Cat, who grudgingly joined in. U.H. pointed their fingers at me as they ran up, hooked an arm around my neck, shouting the song in my face.

“Wh-what?”

“Well, you wouldn’t tell us when your birthday is, so I thought we’d pick one for you,” Lear said. “September 18th. One hell of a surprise party, right?” One hell of a surprise party was right. September 18th wasn’t my birthday of course, it was… January, definitely January. The 27th, maybe? The 23rd? “Look at her face, Cat! Told you she’d never see it coming.” 

“Yeah, Boss, you made up a birthday for her,” Cat said flatly, bumping past Lear to set her ice-white dish down on the picnic table.

“Why did you tell me to bring my computer if you were just throwing a party?”

“You’re so paranoid, I had to pretend it was for work. Plus, I want to talk over your idea.”

“It’s not an idea, Lear, I’m just curious.”

Cat lifted the lid of her baking dish. The cake was a puffy cloud of chantilly cream drizzled with caramel. A rum-colored puddle covered the bottom of the plate. U.H. sat down across from us, smoking weed from an electric-green vape pen.

U.H. was an adrenaline-junky from a young age. By the time their rich parents gave up on them, the teenager had accrued 10 charges for driving without a license, 8 for reckless endangerment, 13 for destruction of property, 6 for grand theft auto, 24 for drug possession, and 1 for public nudity. U.H. was a gearhead with an obscene knowledge of cars and no slouch when it came to gadgets either. They once escaped from a Hyundai they crashed by fashioning a high-powered laser cutter out of the CD player, but beyond working Tinder, they weren’t very good with the software side. 

Cat slid a slice of cake my way. The yellow sponge glistened with rum, bifurcated by a layer of icing and dulce de leche in the center. U.H. promptly reached across the table, dragging the plate towards them with a single finger. Cat flicked them behind the ear. “That’s for Dom, you gremlin.” U.H. flinched but took a bite anyway. 

Lear passed us 4 unlabeled beer bottles, each one foaming at the mouth. “You tell her about the bike?” 

“Oh yeah,” U.H. said, hopping to their feet as they licked their plastic fork clean. “Cat ’n me stole you a bike. It’s out back, wanna see?”

Still gobsmacked by my fake birthday party, I followed Cat and U.H. in a daze, unable to process this new piece of information. We took 2 lefts through brew kettles and mash tuns to the loading bay doors that led to the brewery’s gravel back lot. Cat slid the garage-style door up.

When U.H. said they stole me a bike, I assumed they meant something with a basket and some tassels. I didn’t expect the sleek-black paint job, angry headlamps and chunky engine. I should have—Cat and U.H. didn’t run a chop-shop for bicycles, after all. 

“I know the 400 is baby’s first bike, but I didn’t know how much experience you had with motorcycles,” U.H. said (none was how much experience I had with motorcycles). “They had this moronic turbo setup—because, y’know, let’s strap a rocket to a tricycle—but I fixed it for you. We figured you don’t come out much because you must live real far away, right?”

It was less than 2 miles, but I didn’t have the heart to tell them that. I couldn’t explain why it wasn’t safe to be around me; that if I get caught, the crew will too. Besides, trying to drive a motorcycle through the roller-coaster hills of Valpo sounded like the definition of a death wish. 

“Anyway,” U.H. went on as we walked back inside, “buy a helmet, not a shitty one, spend half a mil at least, otherwise your head’ll be-” U.H. made a wet noise as they scraped the palm of their hand across their skull. “Can’t let you die until we kill your new job.”

“It’s not a job,” I said as we walked back to Lear at the table. “Is that really why you called me down here?”

��Nah, nah nah,” Lear protested. “It’s about the party, a rowdy row wrapped in ribbons. Job’s just the bow on top. After what you said about the campaign I confabbed with a few folks around town who might be in the know. You weren’t kidding about this law and order angle.”

“The kids are out of control!” U.H. mocked. “They’re delinquents, they’re violent, they stole my 1984 Pontiac Firebird and crashed it into a Starbucks!”

“So, I took your advice and sent Cat and U.H. in. Told ’em to push the mayhem angle.”

“Yeah. I threw a brick through a window,” U.H. bragged. 

“That was you?”

“Oh yeah. Didn’t even get yelled at. I might quit boosting cars and just do this now.”

“You got in no trouble at all?”

“No,” Cat said. “They said to keep up the good work.”

“My god… He’s really doing it, he’s paying people to be violent to validate his message.” 

“And when U.H. is already validating his message so well already,” Lear japed. 

“Fuck yeah I am!”

Chile had seen fascism. The right-wing dictator installed by the CIA in the ‘70s “disappeared” thousands of Chilean citizens for protesting his “presidency.” If Godoy played dirty like this, he could go full Pinochet once elected. What would happen to Valparaíso, Chile’s bastion of bohemian revolt? “You’ve sent all this to Teresa, right?”

“Nope,” Lear said, checking his watch. “In fact, it’s imperative she doesn’t find out.”

“Lear, there’s no score.”

“Oh, but there is,” he said, walking to the ancient TV. “See, I did send Teresa one tidbit from the whisper mill. It was just a rumor to me, but she did her multiple sources thing. She said it’d break at 2:30.” Lear switched the TV on.

There was Teresa’s scolding gaze and severe haircut. She leaned over a glass desk, oversized and gleaming with studio lights. A picture-in-picture of the Ek building was up on the screen beside her. “In an unexpected move,” Teresa told the camera, “presidential candidate and television personality Adalberto Godoy is holding his campaign fundraiser in the city of Valparaíso instead of Chile’s capital, Santiago. Ek Inc., the tech company best known for its Ekko mobile phones, plans to host Godoy’s gala in its newly-constructed and controversial office building in Valparaíso’s historic district. Godoy’s pro-business agenda is expected to attract corporate donors from across the globe who use Chilean copper and lithium in a broad range of electronics. Sources close to the campaign report they expect up to $20 billion pesos in donations the night of the gala.”

Lear whistled, muting the TV. “I’ve been to plenty of charity blowouts. Small donations go into envelopes on the tables, but the big stuff gets entered into a tablet.”

My job. $20 billion Chilean pesos—about $20 million USD—donated through a piece of technology. “You want to rob the fundraiser,” I realized aloud. 

Lear grinned, all graveyard teeth. “No, you want to rob the fundraiser. This was your call, D-zero, and you called it. It’s only right that you manage it.”

“Me? I-I just wanted to see what Godoy was up to.”

Lear lowered his voice as U.H. chatted to Cat. “Exactly. You’re in it for the right reasons, D-zero, just like I am. The money isn’t what you’re after, that’s just icing.” Lear dipped a knobby finger into his slice of cake, popping the wad of chantilly cream in his mouth. “We want to even the odds. We want these bastards out of Valpo. What do you say?”

What a stupid, sloppy idea, I thought. The last time I went up against Ek directly, he ended up acquitted and I ended up here. I’d be risking detection, capture, federal prison, or worse: another 4000 white-knuckle miles of static. Yet, how could I sit back and watch Ek and Godoy take over Valparaíso, the town that had sheltered me for 4 terrified years? How many more times would I let Julian run me from my own home? Lear, as off-kilter as he was, took care of me when I arrived in Valpo in a broken down car, delicate as an exposed wire. Paula too, who gave me a dark and quiet place where I felt safe. I loved Valparaíso, with its crooked streets you couldn’t help but get lost in; never be found in. I felt safe cradled between the mountains and the sea, holding me in cupped hands with paint-stained fingers. 

He can’t just get away with it. Not this time; not your thumb; not this scale. If the law can’t stop Julian Ek, I’ll black his eye for them. “I’ll do it. I’m in.”

“Good,” Lear said. “I’ll take care of staffing, you just figure logistics. U.H. and Cat will keep looking for limits on hell-raising. I’ll drag for contractors.”

“We should get someone in the campaign staff.”

“See? You’re bossing me around already.” Lear’s smile went soft around the edges. “You’re a peach, Ms. Mysterio. Sorry to do this on your birthday.”

“It’s OK. It’s not my birthday.”

“Oh, you about to tell me when it really is?”

“No.”

“Then far as I’m concerned, it’s September 18th, baby.”

“Don’t call me ’baby’,” I said, rolling my eyes while trying to decide between 1/23 or 1/27. Lear set an occupied brown paper bag on the table. Whatever was inside was the mass, volume, and density of a textbook. “What’s this?”

“What’d I just say? Sept-tem-ber 18th, baby.” Lear tapped the bag with each syllable.

“And what did I just say?” Reaching inside, my fingers found something solid and poly-smooth. It was heavy, and I needed both hands to pull it up and out of the bag. The sturdy frame had hinges drilled into one side, attaching a small, squat door. A dollar-store lock held the door shut, covering whatever painting the frame was framing. With a bit of digging I fished the small, notched key from the bottom of the bag. The lock clicked open with spring-loaded satisfaction. I unhooked it from the latch, then opened the door like a book.

It was me. Bands of butter yellow and daubs of ultraviolet chiseled me out from the black canvas. Gold geometric patterns marched along the seams of my jacket and zigzagged through my textured hair. It still smelled like turpentine. In the painting, I was laughing, my sunglasses in my hand and my eyes wet with molten gold. Looking at it was uncomfortable. The girl in that painting wasn’t a big, bad cyber-revolutionary. She was small and jagged, laughing through her tears. That girl couldn’t do what I’m about to. That girl was an open wound. “It’s beautiful, Lear,” I said, and meant it. “How is it meant to be displayed? With the door open or closed?”

“Suppose that’s up to you, D-zero.” Lear smiled, but barely. “That’s not my name, y’know.” He tapped 4 sweeping, capital letters in the bottom-right corner. L-E-A-R. “It’s Reyes. But you knew that already, right?”

Yes. You were arrested by Pinochet’s military police after one too many avant-garde acts of vandalism. After that, the Universidad de Chile’s art program revoked your admission.

“Why do you think they call me that?”

“Seems obvious. You’re the king, and…”

“And?”

“And you’re a little crazy.”

Lear nearly fell off his seat, howling with laughter. “Nah, that ain’t why. It’s because I let little girls like you push me around.”

You treated jail like the university you couldn’t go to. You learned; networked, and not just with the other political prisoners. You graduated from avant-garde to direct action. “I’m not a princess,” I said.

“Don’t I know it. So? I showed you mine, you show me yours.”

You have a real daughter in Santiago that refuses to see you. I know what kind of soap you use, what kind of porn you watch, what kind of emails you write but never send. I know everything about you, and you don’t even know my name. “I think it’s better if you call me Domino,” I said as I shut the door on the painting, “and I call you Lear.”

“4 years and you still don’t trust me.” With a heavy sigh, Lear stood up from the table. “Guess that makes you a good criminal.” 

I couldn’t process any kind of answer to that. Had 4 years turned me into a criminal, or did my chemical makeup fundamentally change the moment I opened that video? It seemed like a lifetime since I’d gone on the run, that 2-month road-trip panic-attack, screaming south until no one knew my name. 

A strange revelation hit me then—a bug in my code. What was my real name again? I hadn’t used it since I left, and the news only referred to me as “Former Ek Inc. Employee.” It was on the tip of my tongue. My brows pressed together, as though the information could be folded back into my brain. My thumb was running down the stained wood of the painting’s closed door when the syllables floated up from a dusty corner of my mind, like a piece of trivia. 

Lia. My name is Lia.

<< Chapters 1-5 Chapters 6-10

[shakespearenews]

Delivering these lines for Santa Cruz Shakespeare, Paul Whitworth’s Lear knows he’s being an old coot. When he says he’s about to “crawl toward death,” he’s a classic geezer getting in front of his age by making a joke about it. Sizing up his daughters’ reactions to his abrupt command that they perform like trained monkeys, this Lear expects only jolly fun. He looks ready to sit back and wolf down a bucket of popcorn.

...The only functional intergenerational relationship in the play is between Lear and his Fool (Sofia Metcalf). They sit side by side, ribbing each other. Each can tell the other when they go too far; each can take a scolding in stride, course-correct and move on. There’s a tenderness here, born of lots tied together, not conditioned on a public demonstration of love. But then, famously, the Fool disappears without explanation in Act III, never to be seen for the rest of the play. In Mullins’ bold staging, the Fool makes that choice deliberately, entombing themself under a thick, eerily lit door — one more nail in Lear’s own coffin.

[thena0315]

Kelli’s new project Post-SVU!!!

[tickleinvaforums]

Now, I am wondering. Why some people are ticklish and some people are not?

Here is the answer that you seek. Why some people are ticklish and some people are not? Some people do indeed have an extreme tickle response known as Hypergargalesthesia. This condition is characterized by an intense sensitivity to tickling, leading to an overwhelming reaction to touch. Hypergargalesthesia is not yet fully understood by scientists. Factors that affect your degree of ticklishness. Skin sensitivity: Some people have more sensitive skin than others, which makes them more ticklish. Mood: Dr. Vyas says that anxiety can make you more ticklish, while emotions like anger may make you less receptive and responsive to tickling. We all process sensory information in different ways,” says Lear. “If someone isn't ticklish or actively dislikes tickling even when calm, that doesn't mean something is wrong with them—it's just a personal preference.

Some people are physically more sensitive than others, or as Dong puts it: “Everyone has different nerve density.” He adds that genetics could also play a part in ticklishness. Dong does, however, believe you can train yourself to be less ticklish. The relationship between being tickled and self-esteem shows a double aspect in men: It is positive in women who like being tickled and negative in women who do not like being tickled. While the palm is far more sensitive to touch, most people find that the soles of their feet are the most ticklish. Other commonly ticklish areas include the belly, sides of the torso, underarms, ribs, midriff, neck, back of the knee, thighs, buttocks, nose, feet, and perineum.

The somatosensory cortex is responsible for analyzing touch; for example, the pressure associated with it. The signal sent from the skin's sensory receptors also passes through the anterior cingulated cortex, which governs pleasant feelings [source: Blakemore]. Together, these two create the tickle sensation. Laughter when not prompted by tickling has all kinds of health benefits: it boosts immune system function, lowers our stress hormones, and even burns calories. Physical grooming involves desensitization to touch. Starting with innocent pats on the back or arm, an acceptable form of touching a younger person, the offender progresses the touch to hugging, tickling, and wrestling. Over time, this conditions the child/youth to increase levels of physical contact. Some people believe that they can desensitize themselves to tickling through repetition. However, scientific research has not uncovered a specific strategy that will help people become less ticklish.

Tickling is a form of flirtation and it can work and sometimes backfire. some people do not react well to being tickled. The soles of the feet and the underarms are two of the most common ticklish places on the body. One reason feet are ticklish is that they have more densely packed nerve receptors than most other places on the body. Upwards of 8,000 nerve endings can be found in your foot. This huge amount of nerves makes your feet more sensitive than other body parts, and more ticklish, too. People may hate being tickled due to the loss of control over their bodies, experts say.

[a-wild-things-rambles]

i think one thing that messes me up in the way art was taught to me id artist copies! they are a great tool for learing how an artst draws, like historical reenactment archeology, but im really good at artist copies, and they were most of the art i spent long times on, so i have this expectation that my art skills are on the level of my artist copies, when they arnt. if i use complex comasition, or do anything other than replicating an image, its alot... simpler is the truth but i alway see them a crude. its why im so glad for the positive reception of the cass&jason ribs pice, it was my first piece that wasent an artist copy or from a photo. i have a talent for illustration from observation, recreateing works or putting photographs to paper, but that is a seperate (but still intertwined) skill from drawing original works. its also why you may see a... downwards curve in my art. i no longer do as many artist copies. it feels like cheating. to copy an artists work and pass it of as something i have done. its not- i did draw that, but every time somone goes 'oh isent it "this image" i hate myself. art is for creativity. i feel like a forger, skilled in their own right, but still hidden. its somethig i have to come to terms with. art is not linear, and i love my newer more original pieces. but it takes getting used to, admitting you need to work for the skill.

still you can see many of the artists i have studied in my styles, but i still am making my own style. its a journy that will never end, but hopefully i will soon feel less like an imposter on this road

[themaggotmag]

introducing the maggot(s):

batbattom 🌀

eerie obsession with cubes and spirals and gut wrenching nostalgia. someone called them eclectic once (okay maybe more than once) the ribs are protruding out. big eye hovering in the sky. fruit of choice would be peach (there's no metaphor it just smells nice)

currently reading: pachinko, brute spotify playlist: the sound of tv static in a vacuum

copium🍄

they stay awake at night thinking about tragedies and doomed duos. proceed to curate playlists to support the throes of woes. snap back to reality and read until they can't read. bit of an idiot, to be honest. mentally ill protagonists really resonate with the soul. born to be a jester, forced to be a slave to The Man. lore drops are essential. copes in unhealthy ways but it's cool. very "we shall by morning inherit the earth. our foot's in the door" heh.

currently reading: mandarins (akutagawa), haunted (palahniuk)

maindak 🐸

forgets their name. has hands like their father. unplaces by cody ellingham. space as a character. will their grave embrace them. will they ever have a where. very very angry, and very unquestionably hot. smeared kajal and eyelines. thinks they is a coward but could be killed in a staged street killing. eyes. and hands. can the stopper and the stoppee (it is not a word) sit down with them for a moment. nasir' ki udaasi stifles saans. too big is the city, and too far my home. the boy never grows up. has very straught teeth. arundhati roy ☆

cr: dark as the garve wherein my friend is laid (they are so happy the edgy name feel in sync with their post schedule)

p.s. boy with dupatta art by wine0cellar

strawberry shortcake 🍓

impulsive, passionate, addicted to caffeine, in love with books and scented candles, and all over the place. they value small gestures, and try to grasp at the littlest cues of warmth and tenderness. but theirs is also the constant fear of the walls and wasted lives; so they are alive.

currently reading: 'the awakening', 'emma', and..

tendertooth ⚖️

too reluctant to pull fingernails out of buzzing flesh. has bitten too much. tummy ache tummy ache tummy ache. meets lovers at celestial intersections. sits over bones until the morning of forgetfulness. moonlight and clawed eyes and clenched fists. a fruit. fruits even. what tiptoes into the room tonight?

currently reading: Drowned Country, The Dallergut Dream Department Store (cozy fantasy as a coping mechanism. not enough time tho)

topsurgery💉

more apple than pomegranate. they want to be a kitchen, but they feel like a bathroom sink. domain expansion is called 'childhood room ablaze.' cigarette butts and confessionals. tea stains and dried blood on handkerchiefs. am i doing this right, am i doing this right, am i doing this right.

currently reading: goodnight, punpun.

witchinghour🔮

drowning in an all-consuming fixation on psychology, feminist literature and the physics of time. checklists and planners are their game and so is dismantling the patriarchy. "we should all be feminists". dory 🐟 and boxer �� = spirit animals. just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

currently reading : king lear, emma

indie newsletter : free-fall form of work for free fallers // gravity is a friend // part creature, part story // brimming with a lot of love and a lot of rage // making a very human thing.

enjoy at your own risk.

may we find each other in the bellies of maggots.

[genlirema]

I’m happy to announce my new fancomic here on Tumblr based on Eve and Kara no Kioku! Follow Lear’s adventures on a journey of newfound friendship and self-discovery.

Chapter 1 cover, Page 1

Kara no Kioku (c): Newo, Eve

[vocaicons]

リア【Eve×りぶ】

Ah, it can’t be helped, I had talent back then but it wasn’t enough I hate this irritating heart of mine 

250px

Like/Reblog if used

[tinyhatemachine]

SOMEONE IS MISSING FROM THE STORY OF THE RESURRECTION.

I know that’s like the least scandalous thing I could say. Like, OF COURSE we don’t know the full story.

But I feel like someONE is missing from the story in a big way. It’s not just a matter of John vs Alecto.

First reason is that ‘John Gaius’ is a weird name for a dude who took the souls of the Earth. Pre-Nona lots of people who thought that Alecto=Earth pointed that “Earth=Gaia” and “Gaius is just like Gaia.” But it’s not. The name Gaius in Latin means “Rejoice” not “of the Earth.” Plus it’s a Latin name, and Gaia is a Greek mythological creature. It was a super common Latin name. Tamsyn is lots of things, but she isn’t sloppy when it comes to her naming or etymology.

Secondly, in Greek mythology, Alecto is the daughter of Gaia. Not Gaia herself. That seems important.

Thirdly, people have been saying that his name is “John Gaius” because “Gaia” was his cavalier. But first of all, Alecto, from what I can find, is NEVER referred to as John’s cav. It’s always “guardian” or “bodyguard.” And the naming convention of taking your cav’s first name when you become a Lyctor was something invented by Cytherea, so that doesn’t line up either.

So what’s missing? Let’s look at Blood of Eden. There is a TON of Book-of-Genesis-related symbolism in the John chapters. We got floods, we got People being made from ribs. Blood of Eden = Genesis, too. But, hey, Eden is a broadly understood and shared concept right?

But Te Reo Māori isn’t. But we have Wake’s name including Te Reo Māori. We have Unjust Hope, whose name shows up in a beloved Kiwi poem. This makes me think someone who was close to John founded Blood of Eden.

Based on:

• ⁠John’s quote in HTN about BOE (“how sharper than a serpents tooth”) that comes from King Lear talking about daughter betraying him…

• ⁠The fact that he’s kinda creeping on Harrow in HTN and wants Harrow to be his daughter…

• ⁠the fact that Wake’s name comes from a speech about the inheritance of daughters

Makes me think that “Eden” might be John’s daughter or someone that he considered to be his daughter.

[avatar-of-procrastination]

MADNESS AND MAYHEM — 1

A.N : Heya! So this is a mini series that i have kinda planned out. I've never written anything like this so please bear with me. Please leave a like and comment about how it is! Reblogs are always appreciated <3

English is not my first language, please pardon any errors in spelling or grammar

Summary : You , the goddess of protection and light were married to Loki. After he died Wong welcomed you to the Sanctum and you have lived there ever since, learing the ancient mystic arts. When Strange lands himself in trouble with Wanda and the Multiverse, you find yourself facing your own nighmares with him.

Pairings : Dr. Strange x platonic!reader, Loki x wife!reader, Wong x platonic!reader

Warnings : mentions of death, nightmares and all thing you can expect in a marvel fic. I have written this as a fem reader. This fic is not exactly canon compliant but takes place during the multiverse of madness. So, SPOILERS FOR M.O.M UNDER THE CUT

>>> part 2

*not my gif*

"NO NO NO. LOKI NO!!"

You woke up in cold sweat. It was the same nightmare all over again. You were having a lot of them the past few days. The image of Loki's lifeless body was still etched into your mind years after the incident. 

After deciding to ditch the idea of trying to get any more sleep, you dressed up and went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee where you met Wong. He noticed your heavy eyes and smiled sympathetically. You talked to him about the recurring nightmare and he was looking into the ancient books for a solution. He was the one who offered you a home in the Sanctum after the Loki's death. The both of you started a beautiful friendship, born out of grief over lost ones. You fought alongside the Avengers and after the defeat of Thanos, Wong insisted that you continue residing with them in the Sanctum.

Stephen was hesitant at first but he soon warmed up to you. The three of you were each others pillars in the darkest of times and you were grateful for them.

You took your cup of coffee and headed to the library. You were researching about a lost relic when Wong burst in, mumbling something about Stephen being a pain in the ass and being a literal magnet for trouble. You carefully closed the book before following Wong out the portal, and almost being squashed to death by the alien-octopus creature. 

Stephen saw the two of you exit and waved towards you, the distraction enough for the monster to swipe him off his leg.  You rolled your eyes at his stupidity before transforming your robes into your war armor.  You noticed the monster thrashing its tentacles around, causing a massive chunk of a wall to fall down on innocent civilians. You ran quickly and sent a surge of energy towards the people, creating a shield of blue energy around them. A little girl looked up at you in awe before her father dragged her away from the rubble. You heard Wong screaming at Stephen and turned to find the monster holding both of them tightly, all the while running after a young girl. Stephen managed to get himself out of the monsters grasp and you conjured a blue sword and cut ff the tentacle that held Wong. The monster wailed and thrashed around, sending you flying into a nearby wall. You grunted and stood up shakily, pretty sure you bruised your ribs and sprained your ankle during the crash.

Trying to get your bearings in control, you saw the monster climbing up a building to the little girl while Stephen flew up tried to distract it. Breathing heavily, you motioned to Wong to open a portal to the top of the building near the girl. You limped towards the black haired girl and called out to her, telling her to walk through the portal but she was frozen in fear. Stephen screamed as he uprooted a lamp post and struck the eye of the monster. Its tentacles crashed into the ledge you were on, sending both you and the girl flying down.  You quickly created a shield around you and the young girl and landed on the ground softly. Stephen and Wong ran up to you and Stephen caught the girl just as she was about to run away. Stephen and Wong were talking to the girl but you couldn't focus on their words. You felt a pair of eyed trained on you. You looked around, expecting to find someone ready to pounce on you but you only saw destroyed buildings and rubles. Shaking off the feeling, you followed Strange and America, the young girl, into the New York Sanctum.

Tags : @nova-reaper-universe

( dm me if you wanna be added <3 )

[hwxnghyynjin]

Hit and Miss

Pairing: ateez x reader (ft. Stray Kids) Genre: mafia!au, angst Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of drunkenness, character death, kidnapping, swearing, use of weapons (knives, guns, grenades), blood, threats, wooyoung and yeosang like blowing shit up, gore, mentions of vomiting, smoking Words: 12,958 Taglist: @alphadisaster @lee--felix

Ateez are the most dangerous mafia group throughout the entirety of Seoul. Anyone who came into contact with them feared for their lives, even if they were only going for a drink in the nearest bar. They were cold, ruthless, and showed no mercy to their victims.

Their leader, Kim Hongjoong, was born into the mafia life. His father used to be a mafia leader, until he was killed by a rival gang when Hongjoong was only 10. His mother died when he was born, so he only had his father, until that tragic day. Ever since, he’s been on his own. He started stealing food since he didn’t have any money to buy food for himself.

As he grew older, he started stealing more, whether it’d be jewellery to sell for money, or drugs. Unfortunately, he got caught by the police, getting arrested at the age of 18. He was only in there for a year, being released for good behaviour at the age of 19.

Though, as soon as he was released and back into the city of Seoul, he was a changed person. He was full of anger, hatred and spite. He didn’t want to be on his own anymore, so he thought if he found people who were like him, he could carry on with his father’s legacy: becoming mafia leaders.

The first person he recruited was Choi Jongho, an 18 year old boy who he found to be battered and bruised. Jongho came from an abusive family, his father an alcoholic and his mother too scared to do anything, allowing her husband to hit Jongho over and over again. He abuses him sober, but when he’s drunk, the hits and punches get worse and worse. Jongho ended up in hospital one time, being almost beaten to death. Luckily he managed to survive, despite having broken ribs, a punctured lung and a shattered collarbone. One day, Jongho got sick and tired of the endless nights of pain and suffering, so when his father was chasing him into the kitchen, Jongho grabbed a kitchen knife, stabbing him in the neck, watching as his father’s body bled out on the floor, ignoring the shouts from him as he went over towards his mother. What she didn’t expect, though, was to have a knife hit her right in the stomach, over and over again. “You didn’t fucking help me. You just let him almost kill me, beating me every single night. Do you have any idea how much pain I’m in? No, you don’t because you didn’t fucking do anything!” Jongho shouted, ignoring the cries of his mother, dropping her to the ground.

And that’s how Hongjoong found him. Jongho was sitting on the ground, in the pouring rain, blood covering his clothes, face and hands. He didn’t seem to show any emotions, but he had a lot of anger built up inside of him, and Hongjoong wanted to use that to his advantage. So he took Jongho in under his wing.

The next person he recruited was Park Seonghwa, a boy with big boba eyes that anyone could get lost in. But don’t be fooled. Those eyes can go from innocent to evil in a split second. His demeanour and appearance seemed innocent, but he was far from that. He was dangerous, a ruthless killer. He even murdered his best- ex best actually- friends after he found out they were talking shit about him behind his back. That was when he was 15 years old. After his parents found out what he did, they kicked him out of the house, telling him they don’t know him anymore, slamming the door in his face. Ever since that day, he didn’t care and continued to kill people who wronged him. Hongjoong thought he could use Seonghwa as a killing machine, someone who won’t hesitate to torture their victim.

The next person he recruited was Song Mingi, a slender boy with sharp features, which resembled a cat. Hongjoong found out that Mingi is an excellent hacker, which he learned from his father. Mingi got kicked out of school for hacking the school system, publishing through the entire school that the head teacher was having an affair, and he was furious, so he kicked him out. Hongjoong thought he could use Mingi’s hacking skills to his advantage, hacking into security systems, so he took him in.

A boy called Jeong Yunho was the next person to be recruited, a boy with baby cheeks and fluffy brown hair. He was really tall, which comes off as intimidating to some people. Yunho has anger issues, having random outbursts and destroying things, or hurting people. He got sent down as a juvenile at the age of 15 for attacking someone who spoke to Yunho in a way he didn’t like. He got out at the age of 18, and the officer who released him asked Yunho to take anger management classes, which he said he would but he completely ignored the officer and didn’t go. Hongjoong took Yunho under his wing and introduced him to the others.

The next one he recruited was Choi San, who was really skilled at using a sniper. His father used to be in the army, who used a sniper a lot, and he taught San how to use a sniper. Though his father soon realised he shouldn’t have, because San shot his father in the head while he was doing a public speech, traumatising the public. San hated his father and wanted him gone for a long time, and now he had the chance and he took it. Hongjoong could use someone with that sort of skill, so he recruited him immediately.

The last two people he recruited were Kang Yeosang and Jung Wooyoung, who were inseparable. Hongjoong found them both covered in blood, shards of glass stuck in their clothes and face, and their hair ashy. He soon found out that they both blew up a house, using a bomb they both created, and they suffered the aftermath of the explosion. He took them both under his wing, and that’s how they all started as the most dangerous mafia group in the whole of Seoul.

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

It started off as a normal day for you. You got up, had some breakfast and a coffee, and got ready for work. Your job wasn’t the most exciting, but it paid your bills and ensured you had food in the house, and clothes to wear. It was just a simple office job, and you liked your boss since he wasn’t strict, but rather stern to you and other workers. 

Your day went on as it usually did. Work wasn’t stressful since you didn’t really have much to do, only looking through your emails and checking through any paperwork your boss gave you. You ate lunch with your colleagues, talking about the latest film you were excited to watch.

You left work later that day, saying goodbye to your colleagues. Luckily your apartment was within walking distance from your workplace, only a 10 minute walk. It started getting dark as you left, a chilly breeze in the air. You wrapped your coat around you to try and get some warmth, your heels clicking against the pavement.

You were walking past an alleyway, and you heard cries coming from it. You peaked in the alley way but soon regretted it as you saw a man held at gunpoint. You tried to turn on your heel and run in the opposite direction, but you felt a pair of hands on you, covering your mouth to stop your screams. You struggled against the person, but stopped and a shiver travelled down your spine once the person whispered in your ear, “stop struggling otherwise I’ll cut you open”, his voice was deep and it shook you to the core. 

His hands left you and you thought you were safe as you let out a sigh of relief, until you felt a needle prick you in the neck, and you started to fall into unconsciousness, falling to the ground.

You’re not sure how long you were unconscious for but as soon as you woke up, you saw someone hovering over you. His black hair was slicked back, and he had a smirk on his face. He was about to touch his face but you freaked out, grabbing his wrist and flipped him over, you now sitting on his back.

You didn’t stay on top of his back for long, though, as you felt a tingling sensation in your side, making you fall sideways. Your body shook for a few minutes, and you looked up to see a guy standing over you, holding a taser. “You’re a feisty little one, aren’t you?” the one holding the taser said, smirking down at you. “Where am I? What do you want? Who are you?” you asked question after question, making the guy roll his eyes. “And you’re also chatty and annoying. Noted”, he muttered to himself, but you heard him. You don’t know what went through your mind at the very moment but you ended up kicking him in the back of the leg, knocking him to the ground. You took that opportunity to get up, running to the nearest door you saw. You opened the door, and saw a bunch of stairs, running up them. 

“Wooyoung, why didn’t you lock the fucking door?” Yeosang said, dropping his taser and running after you. You didn’t look back, not even for a moment, scared to see that you were being chased. You pushed open a door, which led you into what seemed to be a hallway. You didn’t know where to go but your mind was telling you to go left for some reason, so you did. You turned a corner, but you accidentally bumped into something. Or someone. You looked up and saw a pair of eyes which reminded you of boba pearls. 

“Yah, what are you doing out here?” that deep voice. He was the one who grabbed you before you fell unconscious. You didn’t answer him, your words trapped in your throat. He grew annoyed at you as he stepped forward, making you take a step backwards. “Seonghwa, you’re scaring the poor girl”, so that’s what his name was. You turned around and saw a guy with black hair, wearing all black. “But Hongjoong, she escaped out of the basement. Wooyoung didn’t lock the fucking door, that stupid dickhead”, Seonghwa said, clenching his fists. “Well, since she’s now out, might as well show her around since she’s not going anywhere for a while”, Hongjoong said, and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I’m leaving right now and no one can stop me”, you said, crossing your arms. Hongjoong laughed at you, and you suddenly felt small. “Girl, do you even know who we are?” he asked, and you shook your head, having no idea who they were.

“Baby, we’re Ateez. The most dangerous mafia group in the whole of Seoul”, as soon as you processed what they just said, you froze. No, you can’t have been kidnapped by them. This must be all a nightmare and you’ll wake up soon in the comfort of your bed. You closed your eyes tightly, hoping this was all just a nightmare. “What are you doing?” Seonghwa asked you, looking at you weirdly. That’s when you realised: this was all real. “Now, you must be wondering why you’re here, right?” Hongjoong asked you, and you nodded. If they’re the most dangerous mafia group throughout the whole of Seoul, why haven’t they killed you yet? Unless they are waiting for the right moment.

“You’re here because you witnessed me killing a man. Because of that, we had to kidnap you. Now normally, when someone witnesses something we do, we kill them instantly, to get rid of any chances of us getting caught. But you see, there’s something about you that I like. And I want you to join our team”, Hongjoong said, not looking away from you. You didn’t even hesitate before speaking, “no thanks”, and walked away. Well, at least you tried to before Seonghwa grabbed you, earning a scream from you. Hongjoong soon turned angry as he stormed over to the two of you, looking at you, your arms trapped behind your back as Seonghwa grips them.

“Seems like I gotta do this the hard way instead”, Hongjoong said, grabbing a knife out of his pocket, pointing it at you. You felt the knife dug into your stomach, hard enough to draw blood but not enough to pierce the skin. Hongjoong laughed as he saw the fear on your face, an evil smirk on his face. “Seonghwa, lock her in the spare bedroom. If she doesn’t agree to being a part of her team by the time I get back, kill her”, Hongjoong ordered, walking away. Your eyes widened at hearing the words ‘kill her’, fearing for your life. Seonghwa picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You hit him and kicked your feet, begging to be put down. Seonghwa threw you inside a room, closing the door and locking it. You banged on the door, shouting for him to unlock it but he ignored your screams, walking away, twirling a knife around his fingers. 

You figured he wasn’t going to open the door, so you just stopped banging the door after a while, your hand hurting. You slid your back against the door, sitting on the floor. You rested your arms on your knees, and that’s when you noticed how dirty your clothes were. Your shirt was all crinkled and dusty, probably from when you were thrown into the basement. Your trousers were scuffed at the knees, and had holes in them. You have no idea where your shoes are, they must have fallen off somewhere. 

You were in such a dilemma. You had to choose between joining the mafia, or be killed. You didn’t want to be part of the mafia, but you didn’t want to be killed either. You threw your head back into the door, tugging on your hair out of frustration. You suddenly felt a vibration in your pocket, which startled you. You went into your pocket, noticing that your phone was still in there. You checked it, seeing you had 20 missed calls and 50 unread messages. You unlocked your phone, and they were all from your family, friends and your boyfriend. You wanted to call your parents but you were scared that if you did, Hongjoong would find out and end up killing them. So you did what you had to do. You blocked all your family and friends’ contacts. It was for the best. If you did that, they won’t be able to contact you and hopefully just forget about you and go on with their lives. Yes it was a tough decision, but it had to be done.

You turned your phone off, putting it back in your pocket. You guess in order for you to not die, you had to join Hongjoong’s team, even though you really didn’t want to. You just hoped you didn’t end up turning into a cold-blooded killer like them.

You have no idea how long Hongjoong will be, whatever he was doing had to be important, so you decided to take a nap. You were tired from all the running you did, and your stomach hurt. Sleeping wouldn’t hurt. You laid down on the single bed, your head hitting the softness of the pillow. You closed your eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

You weren’t asleep for long, though, as you woke up to screaming. You got up off the bed, went to the door and tried to listen to what was going on. “YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU LOST THE FUCKING MONEY?!” it was Hongjoong, and hearing him shout scared the shit out of you. You’ve heard people shout before, but the kind you just heard was more like manic screaming. There were a few more screams before a loud bang, and then silence. You backed away from the door, your hands shaking. The door suddenly opened, revealing someone different. He was really tall, a mop of blonde messy hair on his head. He walked towards you, grabbing your arm, pulling you out of the room. You struggled against him, your arm hurting due to him digging his nails into your flesh. He didn’t seem to care though as he continued pulling you along with him. You came across some wooden double doors, a dark mahogany colour. The guy pushed the doors open, revealing what seemed to be an office. It was huge, pictures hung up on the walls, a cabinet full of bottles of alcohol, and a wooden desk in the middle of the room. There were other people in the room, and Hongjoong with his back to you, leaning against the desk.

The guy pushed you, making you fall to the floor with a thud. Your eyes widened as soon as you saw a dead body on the floor, blood oozing out of him. Hongjoong turned around and looked at you on the floor. “Thank you, Yunho”, Hongjoong said, looking at the guy with blonde hair. Hongjoong walked over to you, moving the dead body out of the way with his foot and crouched down to your level, looking you straight in the eye. “You made your mind up, doll?” he asked, pointing his knife at you again. You were still hesitant about joining his team, but you didn’t want to die, so you had no choice. 

“I swear to god if you try anything, and I mean anything, I will cut your dick off and make you eat it”, you threatened, making Hongjoong laugh. “I like you”, he said before helping you up. “Listen, just because I’m joining your team doesn’t mean I like any of you. I’m joining because I don’t want to die”, you said, looking at everyone in the room. The only people in the room you knew the name of were Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Yunho. You didn’t know the others, but you did recognise two of them, since they were both in the basement with you.

“You’ve already met Seonghwa and Yunho. You’ll get to meet the others soon”, Hongjoong said, sitting back down at his desk. “Also, your clothes are filthy”, he said, and you scoffed. “No shit, I was literally down in a dirty basement”, you said, rolling your eyes. “Wooyoung, Yeosang, take the girl to get some new clothes”, he ordered, and the guys who were in the basement with you walked towards you. So that’s what their names were. “Hey, my name is y/n”, you said to Hongjoong. You thought if you told your name, everyone wouldn’t call you ‘girl’ every time they spoke about you. “Good to know, now leave”, Hongjoong said, gesturing for you to leave.

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“Will you hurry up in there? I’m getting bored”, Yeosang said, sighing to himself as you were still in the fitting room. “Have some patience”, you said, trying on a pair of black cargo pants. You liked the way they fitted your legs, and they felt really comfy. You definitely wanted them, and Wooyoung and Yeosang said you can get whatever clothes you wanted.

You’ve been trying on clothes for hours now, and the clothes kept piling up. You were looking through a bunch of different shirts, when you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around to see Yeosang holding a floor length red dress, with a slit in it. You were surprised that he picked it up, when not even a couple of hours ago, he said he was getting bored. “Try this on”, he shoved it in your hands and pushed you into the fitting room. While you were trying the dress on, Yeosang and Wooyoung were talking outside about something, which you weren’t paying attention to. You zipped the dress up at the back, and stepped out of the fitting room, showing Wooyoung and Yeosang.

“What do you think?” you asked, wanting their opinion on it. They looked at you, their eyes bulging out of their sockets. Though they soon shook their heads, pretending they weren’t just gawking at you. “I think it looks good”, Wooyoung said, and Yeosang agreed. You got changed back into your clothes, and put the dress in the pile of clothes that they were holding. You also got a few pairs of shoes, ranging from heels to boots to sneakers. 

You all went to pay, Wooyoung pulled out a bank card that looked like it was stolen. “Yah, how the hell are you going to pay for all this? Also, is that a stolen credit card?” you whispered to Wooyoung, wanting to be sure that no one heard you. Since Wooyoung was wearing a mask, you couldn’t see the smirk on his face. “Don’t worry about that, sweet cheeks”, he said, patting your cheek as he used the credit card on the card machine, the transaction going through.

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You’ve been with Ateez for a couple of days now, and you’re currently in the training room with Jongho, learning how to fight. You were wearing casual clothes, which was a hoodie (with a sports bra underneath), a pair of black sweatpants and trainers. You tried really hard not to stare at Jongho but how could you not when his biceps were bulging out of his t-shirt?

Every time you tried to hit him, he dodged them and jabbed you in the side, and flipped you over onto the ground. You’re pretty sure you have whiplash from the amount of times your back slammed against the floor. 

It’s been a couple of hours now, and you were exhausted. You felt like you could collapse at any moment as you rested your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. “Ok, that’s enough for today. It seems like you’re not ready to fight, or you’re just not trying”, Jongho said as he grabbed his bag. “You think I’m not trying? Bitch please”, you rolled your eyes, giving him an attitude, which he didn’t like one bit. He walked over to you, grabbing your chin to make you look at him. “Don’t give me attitude, missy. I could still kill you, you know?” Jongho said, letting go of your face.

“Mingi’s waiting for you”, Jongho said, walking out of the room with his back, leaving you alone in the room. You debated whether or not to get changed but you couldn’t be bothered, so you decided to leave your current clothes on, heading to where Mingi would be. You walked down a bunch of hallways, soon reaching where Mingi is. You went inside the room, and the first thing you saw were a bunch of computers with encryption software on them. Yeah, this was the right room.

“Uh, Mingi?” you called out, wondering where the hell he was. Suddenly a head popped up, revealing himself. He called you over to where he was, a huge computer in front of him, his keyboard lit with colourful lights. You’ve only seen setups like this in films, so to see it in real life was an experience. 

You expected Mingi to show you how to hack, to talk you through it but instead, he just carried on with what he was doing on his computer, completely ignoring your existence. You just sat there, your arms crossed, as you just watched what he was doing. “Yah, have you forgotten I’m here or something?” you asked, making Mingi jump. He just stared at you, his lips pouted and his big brown eyes widened. How is this guy part of the most dangerous mafia group in the entirety of Seoul? He looks the complete opposite.

“How are you part of the most dangerous mafia group in Seoul? You’re totally the opposite of dangerous and scary”, you said, and hearing that, Mingi slammed his hands down on the desk, scaring you. “Sweetheart, have you heard of the saying, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’?” Mingi asked, and you nodded slowly, starting to regret what you just said.

You were getting bored just sitting there, watching him as you sighed constantly. He was getting annoyed with your constant sighing, and it was distracting him. He tried really hard not to yell at you, since he didn’t like yelling in general. He was the total opposite of Hongjoong, who shouted a lot when he was frustrated or angry, whereas when Mingi was frustrated or angry, he was the silent type and honestly, that was more scary than screaming and shouting.

Mingi turned to you, glaring at you as he narrowed his eyes. You stopped sighing, freezing in your seat. You felt small under his gaze, sinking into your seat. “If you’re going to be annoying by constantly sighing, just leave”, he said, turning back to his computer. “Did you even want me here? Cause Jongho said you were waiting for me”, you said, playing with the strings of your hoodie. “Yeah, well, I was, but then I realised how annoying you are”, Mingi said, his words hurting you. You didn’t show that you were hurt but your heart sank. You just rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed at him. “You’re no fun”, you said and got up out of your seat, walking out of the room.

You walked down a long corridor, and you suddenly heard a loud bang, making you jump. You then heard clapping and cheering, confusing you. What the hell was that? You walked towards where the sound was coming from, opening a door. You popped your head in, and saw Wooyoung and Yeosang, and they were making something. You figured they were making explosives judging by the loud noise you just heard. 

“Ah, y/n, come in”, Wooyoung said, gesturing for you to come in. You headed in further into the room, looking round. You noticed different chemicals on shelves, along with petrol canisters and other different items which you didn’t recognise. There was also a small room within the room, which you assumed was where they were testing the homemade explosives in (you thought it looked like an interrogation room). “Wait, weren’t you supposed to be with Mingi?” Yeosang asked, pouring some chemicals into a beaker, stirring it. “I was but he called me annoying and told me to leave”, you murmured, suddenly feeling embarrassed because honestly, it sounded stupid.

“That’s not surprising”, Wooyoung said, measuring some chemicals. You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant by that. “You see, Mingi isn’t exactly a people’s person. Yeah, he is around 7 other people but most of the time, when we aren’t out doing business related things, he spends most of his time cooped up in his room”, Wooyoung said. No wonder Mingi didn’t say much.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to sit down?” Yeosang said, glaring at you as you still stood by the door. You grabbed a seat, sitting opposite of the two men. They finished making another bomb, Wooyoung standing up and walked over to where the ‘interrogation’ room is, putting the explosive inside. He closed the door, and waited for Yeosang to count before pressing a button, the bomb exploding, making you jump out of your seat. You fell on the floor, the chair toppling over with a bang. Wooyoung and Yeosang looked over, seeing you on the floor. They just laughed at you, seeing you pouting on the floor. “You’ll get used to the noise, don’t worry”, Yeosang said, still laughing to himself. You got up off the floor, picking the chair up. 

They could see the fear on your face, and their smiles were replaced by frowns. They didn’t mean to scare you, they just wanted to show you how they made their explosives. “Hey, uh, if we scared you, I’m sorry”, Wooyoung said, making Yeosang elbow him. “Why do you always apologise? Are you forgetting we’re part of the mafia or something? It’s our job to scare people”, Yeosang said. They suddenly started arguing, Wooyoung shouting something along the lines of ‘I didn’t want to join the mafia’. 

While they were arguing, you quietly snuck out of the room, closing the door behind you. You took a deep breath, calming yourself down. You were slowly starting to regret agreeing to Hongjoong’s offer, you should have just let him kill you. There’s no going back now though, you were now part of the mafia.

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

You were in the shooting range with San, watching him shoot targets with different guns. Yes, his speciality was using snipers, but he wanted to learn how to use different guns. You were wearing ear defenders to protect your ears from the loud noises, waiting for San to teach you how to handle and use a gun.

He took off his safety glasses, turned to you and gave them to you. You put them on, and San guided you to where you needed to stand, handing a gun to you. He told you all the things you needed to know about using a gun, and then he let you try and shoot the gun.

Unfortunately, after so many tries, you couldn’t get the handle of using a gun, missing the target each time. You sighed out of frustration, and you could sense the frustration coming off of San. “Ok, it seems like you’re not ready to use a gun yet”, San said, taking the gun off you, putting it back in its place. You took the safety glasses off and gave them back to San. You awkwardly walked out of the room, and you wanted to scream. You didn’t know what you were doing and you were so embarrassed. 

You headed towards your room, your hood covering your head. You were about to open the door to your room when a voice stopped you. “y/n, Seonghwa wants you down in the basement with him”, it was Yunho and he had blood on his face. You were too scared to ask whose blood it was so you just nodded and walked towards the basement. Why did Seonghwa want you in the basement with him? Oh god, he wasn’t going to kill you, was he?

He headed into the basement, your only source of light being the small light bulb at the top of the staircase. You made your way down the stairs carefully, not wanting to trip. You reached the bottom of the stairs, and the sound of cries could be heard behind the door. You opened it, and what you saw terrified you. In the middle of the room was a man tied up, blood coming out of his mouth as he spat, a few teeth hitting the ground. Seonghwa’s hands were covered in blood, and a few splatters of blood on his face. Now you know why Yunho had blood on his face.

“Yah, woman, please help me”, the man cried as he looked at you, and you noticed one of his eyes was filled with blood. Seonghwa hit the man over the head with a crowbar, earning a scream from him. You just stood there, not knowing what to do. “y/n, come here”, Seonghwa demanded, and you wasted no time and ran over to him, standing beside him. Seonghwa held out a knife for you to take, and you just stared at it. You slowly took the knife off him, gripping it in your hand. The next few words that left Seonghwa’s mouth scared you.

“I want you to kill this man”

You immediately froze in your spot. Kill someone? You’ve never even punched anyone before, let alone kill anyone. You kept glancing back and forth at the knife in your hand and the man sitting in the chair. Seonghwa pushed you forward, making you stand right in front of the man. He kept coughing, blood spluttering from his mouth. You stared at him and took a proper look at him: his nose was crooked and broken, his jaw was out of place, and one of his ears was ripped off. What did this man do in order for him to be tortured like this?

Seonghwa was getting pissed off, annoyed that you weren’t doing anything, so he took matters into his own hands. He snatched the knife out of your hands and slashed the man’s neck, blood trickling down his body as he started gagging, gasping for air. His body soon went limp, his arm dropping down and his body went still. You wanted to look away from the dead body, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t move. All you could do was just stare at the now lifeless body of the man. You couldn’t scream or cry. You felt traumatised. You wanted to throw up.

Seonghwa dropped the bloody knife on the table next to him, and left the basement, leaving you all alone. The door slammed shut, and you suddenly came back to reality. Your insides churned and you doubled over, throwing your guts up on the floor. You wiped your mouth with your sleeve, and left the basement. You closed the door behind you, and walked towards your room, hopefully without being interrupted again. You entered your room, closing the door behind you and flopped onto your bed. You didn’t bother getting changed into your pyjamas as you fell asleep, hoping that your mind wouldn’t be filled with nightmares.

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It’s been a month since you joined the mafia, and if you weren’t already crazy, you’re most definitely going crazy now. You’re all alone as the others went out for some business related stuff, you didn’t know where as they didn’t tell you. You haven’t been out with any of them yet since they thought ‘you weren’t ready’, which annoyed you. It’s making you go crazy, you haven’t been outside for a month.

You were wandering around for a while, just casually looking around the place. You walked past the basement, and suddenly heard a muffled scream, which was coming from the basement. You stopped, making sure you weren’t hearing things, but you weren’t as you heard it again. You walked down to the basement, mentally preparing yourself for what you were going to see.

You opened the door and saw a young man, probably around the same age as you. He was battered and bruised, and overall looked like shit. You walked up to him and stood in front of him. He looked up at you, and he seemed surprised to see you. He looked you up and down, and you felt uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Please help me. I need to get out of here. Some fucking idiot knocked me out and I ended up tied up down here”, he babbled on about how he ended up in the basement, and you just stared at him, not saying anything. 

“What did you do to get attacked?” you asked after a couple minutes of silence, and your question confused the man. “What do you mean what did I do? I was just casually walking”, he answered and you scoffed. You were surprisingly keeping your cool, which scared you. “There must be a reason for someone to get attacked, you know? So let me ask you again”, you said as you grabbed a knife and turned back to the man, “what did you do?”

You pointed the knife at him, and the man feared for his life. You moved closer to him, and the knife was touching his neck, and a sob escaped him. All of a sudden, the man just burst. “You really wanna know what I did? Ok I’ll tell you. I hit my girlfriend over and over again. She deserved it anyway. She’s so fucking annoying and doesn’t listen to me when I say she can’t talk to anyone else except me”, he confessed, and his eyes went wide as soon as he realised what he just said.

You moved the knife away from his neck, and the man thought he was safe, but he was wrong as he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. You had stabbed him. You stabbed him over and over again, ignoring his cries telling you to stop. You dropped the knife, and you kicked the man in the chest, knocking him over as the chair he’s tied to breaks. You grabbed a crowbar, and hit the man over the head numerous times. Blood and brain matter splattered you in the face but you didn’t care. You started laughing as you kept hitting him, and the laughter turned manic. 

You dropped the crowbar on the floor, and stepped over the dead body, leaving the basement. You didn’t care if you were covered in brain matter and blood. You wiped your face with the sleeve of your shirt and closed the door behind you. You headed for the training room, wanting to let out your frustration. 

You took out all your frustration on a punching bag, not caring if you end up bruising your knuckles. You’ve been punching it for about 25 minutes now, and you were dripping with sweat. You were getting more aggressive with your punches, making the punching bag swing back and forth. You made one last punch, letting out a scream of frustration, and you accidentally made the punching bag fall to the ground with a loud thud. You were surprised by your own strength, you didn’t even know you could do that.

Suddenly, you heard a bunch of voices, signalling that they are back from their mission. You walked out of the training room, and the first person you saw was Jongho, and he looked pissed. You weren’t sure why though, well, that was until you saw Yunho and Mingi supporting San, his arms slung around their necks. 

“What the hell happened?!” you asked, running to help. San suddenly fell, his body hitting the ground as he winced in pain. You helped him up, ignoring his protests but soon accepted your help as he held onto you. The sound of Jongho shouting startled you all, but you kept your composure. You still weren’t used to their shouting. Whilst you, Yunho and Mingi took San to the infirmary, Hongjoong went to his office, along with Seonghwa. 

“That fucking bastard’s team shot San. He’s going to pay for what he did”, Hongjoong said, slamming his hands on his desk. Seonghwa just stood there, letting Hongjoong let out his frustrations as he continued hitting his desk. Hongjoong soon turned around after a few minutes, facing Seonghwa. 

“Can y/n use a gun? Or even know how to fight?” Hongjoong asked, thinking it was time to take you on their missions. Besides, he thought it would be good for you to get used to going on their missions, getting used to the mafia.

“I mean, she has been practising using a gun from what I’ve heard. San said she’s getting better, and Jongho said they’ve been practising fighting techniques this past month so, I’m sure she can”, Seonghwa said. His only problem was though, are you able to actually kill someone?

Hongjoong dismissed Seonghwa, leaving him alone in his office. Seonghwa headed down to the basement, checking on his latest victim. When he opened the door, he wasn’t expecting to see him lying on the floor, blood pooling around his dead body. His head was smashed in, and there was a crowbar and knife on the floor. He let out a scream of anger, running out of the basement, slamming the door. There was only one person at the base while they were out: you.

He ran to the infirmary, pushing the doors open, making his presence known. San was lying on a bed, his side now stitched up and bandaged up. Mingi was nowhere to be seen, probably back in his room. You and Yunho were still in the infirmary with San, Yunho checking up on him every few minutes or so, while you were just sitting there by his bed. 

You looked up to see Seonghwa storming in, the anger seething off of him. “What the fuck did you do?!” Seonghwa said, the anger evident in his voice. You were confused for a moment until you remembered what you did, and you just chuckled. “I’m assuming you’re on about the dead body in the basement?” you asked, and Seonghwa was confused about the way you’re acting. Only a month ago, you were unable to kill the guy Seonghwa told you to kill and now, you fucking brutally murdered someone.

“Why did you kill him? You shouldn’t have”, he kept getting closer to you, getting right in your face. You pushed him backwards, nearly knocking him over. You were a completely different person. “Why would I keep someone alive who abuses women? Sorry but, a man who abuses a woman doesn’t deserve to live”, you said and barged past him, leaving the infirmary. If Seonghwa was going to be honest, he loved this new side of you, and you were definitely ready to go out on missions with them.

Back in his office, Hongjoong was sitting at his desk, lighting a cigarette. He took a puff, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and inhaled the smoke before blowing it out. He relaxed back in his chair, putting his feet up on his desk. There was classical music quietly playing in the background as he closed his eyes. That was the only time he could relax and sit down properly. It was quiet, apart from the faint sound of the music playing in the background. Well, it was for a few minutes until you stormed into his office.

“When are you going to let me leave? I hate being cooped up inside 24/7”, you said, getting straight to the point. “Hello to you too”, Hongjoong said, taking another puff of his cigarette. He offered you one and if he offered you one a month ago, you would have said no but you’re a changed person now, so you grabbed one. You put it in your mouth, Hongjoong lighting it for you. 

You took a puff, inhaling the smoke and coughed, choking on the smoke. You’ve never smoked a single cigarette in your life, you haven’t done drugs, and you hardly drank alcohol. You were known as an angel to your friends, someone who always did the right thing and always made good life choices. But now, you’ve thrown that out of the window, and you didn’t even care. You took another puff, inhaling the smoke and didn’t cough this time, blowing the smoke out of your mouth.

“y/n, how are you with a gun?” Hongjoong asked you, putting the rest of his cigarette into the ashtray on his desk. “I can aim and shoot, if that’s what you mean”, you said, taking another drag of your cigarette. You put the rest of the cigarette into the ashtray, and took a step back from the desk. 

“Since San was shot, you’re going to be joining us on our missions. You’re going to be coming on every mission from now on”, Hongjoong said, leaning back in his seat. Your eyes widened, and you started jumping up and down on the spot, happy that you’re finally getting to go outside after a long time.

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You were in your room, getting ready to go out on a mission. You laced up your boots, slipped your shirt on over your head, and put your guns in your pockets. You checked yourself in the mirror before leaving your room, closing the door behind you.

You all left your base, getting into a black van. Yunho sat in the driver's seat, while Hongjoong sat beside him. The rest of you sat in the back of the van, you squashed between Yeosang and Wooyoung. The drive was rather quiet, apart from the odd small talk. You were worrying about San, but you didn’t want to show it as you had to focus on the mission. San was still resting, probably high on pain meds.

You arrived at your destination, which was an abandoned office building, and to say it creeped you out was an understatement. There were broken windows and glass all over the place, sides of the building had falling bricks, and just the look of it made you feel uneasy.

You all got out of the van, and you headed inside. Your sniper was hanging off your shoulder, so it was easy to grab it in case you needed to use it. Mingi was still in the van, setting up his computer so he could hack into the building, if there was still power in the building. 

You all went in different directions, so the rival gang would think it was only Hongjoong and Seonghwa who went. While Hongjoong and Seonghwa went to meet with the rival gang, you went up somewhere high in the building so you could use your sniper and not be seen, and Wooyoung and Yeosang went and placed explosives down as traps, as well as other traps they made. Yunho and Jongho followed Hongjoong and Seonghwa but stayed far behind so they wouldn’t get caught, just in case they needed backup.

You all had earpieces in, so you can talk to each other without being close to one another. Hongjoong and Seonghwa walked into a room, and the rival gang leader was sitting in the middle of the room, two of his members standing each side of him. The others were nowhere to be seen, probably roaming the building. 

“I see it’s just the two of you. I’m surprised you haven’t brought the rest of your gang with you”, the leader said with a smirk. Hongjoong scoffed as he clenched his fist, Seonghwa looking annoyed. 

“Just get to it, Chan. Give us the money, and tell us what you want”, Hongjoong said. Yes, there is another gang in Seoul, who wasn’t as dangerous as Ateez but were ruthless. The only difference was, they didn’t kill innocent civilians like Ateez. The leader, Chan, threw a bag of money to Hongjoong, which had 1 billion won in it. Hongjoong grabbed the bag, giving it to Seonghwa.

“Now tell me what you want”, Hongjoong said, wanting to know why Chan wanted to meet with him. “Give her back”, Chan said, standing up. Hongjoong was confused, wondering who he was talking about. Then something in him clicked. Chan was talking about you.

“Sorry but, y/n is with us now”, Hongjoong said, taking a step forward. Seonghwa suddenly started feeling uneasy, something didn’t feel right. It was rather quiet and the overall atmosphere was heavy. Seonghwa slowly went for his knife, his hand gripping the handle. “Are you sure you guys are the only ones here?” Seonghwa asked Chan, and Chan started smirking.

“You guys are fucking stupid for coming here alone”, Chan said as he chuckled, but his chuckling soon stopped when he heard Hongjoong scoff. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to come here alone?” Hongjoong said as he smirked. All of a sudden, there was a loud explosion, and then a scream. Seonghwa turned around, throwing his knife and hit one of Chan’s member’s straight in the forehead, knocking him to the ground. 

Gun shots could be heard in the distance as Seonghwa tackled one of Chan’s men to the ground, stabbing him over and over again, blood pooling around his now dead body. Upstairs, you shot a guy in the head, kicking his body out of the window, his body hitting the ground with a thud. You ran forward but as you were about to turn a corner, someone ran into you, and you screamed as you went out the window. Luckily your reflexes have improved as you grabbed onto the window ledge, gripping onto it tightly so you didn’t fall. However, the guy who pushed you out the window grabbed onto your ankle, trying to pull you down with him. You tried kicking him off you, but he wouldn’t budge. You grabbed your gun, trying to aim it with one hard. You closed your eyes, praying that you hit him square in the head, and pulled the trigger. The guy let go of your ankle, dropping to the ground.

You climbed in through the window, and sat on the floor. You tried catching your breath before getting back to shooting people, that near death experience knocked you for six. You knew being in the mafia was scary, but you didn’t realise just how terrifying it was.

You got up after a few minutes, grabbed your gun and started running. You checked in every room, seeing if there was anyone hiding in them. You kept your guard up, not letting yourself get distracted. You heard shouting and more gunshots in the distance, and you hoped to God that the others were okay, or at least, still alive. 

There was another explosion, and another scream, and you stopped in your tracks. That sounded close. Goddamn you Wooyoung and Yeosang for putting explosives randomly all over the place. You have to tread carefully now, so you don’t accidentally stand on an explosive.

You continued looking in the rooms with caution, being careful about where you stand. You came to the end of the hallway and were about to head downstairs, when you saw someone in the corner of your eye. You turned to look at the person, and you gasped as you saw them throw something towards you: it was a grenade. 

Everything suddenly felt like it was going in slow motion. The grenade slowly went towards you and your movements were slow. You headed towards the stairs. All of a sudden, you felt someone grab you, throwing the both of you down the stairs. The grenade missed you by a couple of inches, exploding as it hit the wall. You hit the ground with a groan, your back coming into contact with the ground. You realised the person who grabbed you was Wooyoung.

“Are you ok?” Wooyoung asked you, looking down at you. You nodded as you winced, your back hurting like fuck. “I am, but I think my back is going to be bruised. Now get off me please, you’re heavy”, you said, trying to push Wooyoung off you. He got off you and stood up, helping you up. 

The both of you started running, the sound of shouting getting louder and closer the further you ran. You turned a corner and saw Jongho fighting someone. He suddenly grabbed his head, twisting it and breaking his neck, his body falling to the ground with a thud.

“Wooyoung, get y/n out of here and make sure that none of Chan’s guys sees her”, Jongho said, Wooyoung pulling you by the wrist. Wait, Chan? Who is Chan?

You and Wooyoung left the building, heading back to the van. Wooyoung ignored your protests, not letting go of you, not even for a second. You both got back into the van, sitting behind Mingi who was still on his laptop. On the screen was footage from different rooms in the building. 

In one of the surveillance videos, you noticed something which seemed off. You asked Mingi to make the footage bigger, Mingi clicking on the footage. The three of you took a closer look at the footage, and your eyes went wide when you realised what was in it. There was a bomb in the middle of the room, but it wasn’t like the ones that Yeosang and Wooyoung made. This one was different, and it had 10 minutes reading off of it. If that goes off, the whole building would collapse.

“Yah, if you all are listening, you need to get out now. There’s a bomb and it has 10 minutes left before it goes off”, Mingi said, hoping that the others were listening. All of a sudden, people started running out of the building a few minutes later, which you assumed were part of the rival gang. You couldn’t see any of the others, and you were panicking.

“Mingi, can you see where they are?” you asked, your whole body shaking with panic and fear. Mingi looked through different footage, trying to see whether the others were. Unfortunately he couldn’t find them, and you were on the verge of getting out of the van and running into the building. As you looked out of the window, you saw the others but the only person you didn’t see was Hongjoong. Where the fuck was he?

“Mingi, how long is there left on the timer?” you asked, your body shaking with panic. “5 minutes”, Mingi said and as soon as you heard him say ‘5 minutes’, you ran out of the van, ignoring the pleas of the others.

You ran back inside the building, trying to find Hongjoong. You called out to him, shouting his name over and over, but you heard no response. You ran into a room, pushing the doors open, and that’s when you saw Hongjoong lying on the floor. You ran over to him, immediately checking his pulse. He was still alive thankfully.

You tapped his face numerous times, trying to wake him up. Unfortunately he wouldn’t, and you were panicking. You were worried you weren’t going to get out in time. 

“Hongjoong, I’m sorry for having to do this”, you apologised to him before you slapped him across the face, and it surprisingly worked. His eyes opened as he groaned, moving his hand to his head. “What happened?” Hongjoong asked as soon as he saw you. “I have no idea what happened to you but I’m assuming you were fighting someone and ended up getting knocked out. Now get your fat ass up before this place blows up”, you said, pulling him up by his arm.

“You guys better be close to getting out because there’s less than a minute left before the whole building comes crashing down”, Mingi said, his voice echoing in your ear. You moved quicker, which was a bit of a struggle with Hongjoong leaning into you, but you managed.

You made it outside and as soon as you were close to the van, there was a loud bang and the whole building came crashing down. The passenger door opened, helping Hongjoong to get inside. Once you were sure he was sitting down in his seat, you closed the door and got in the back. Yunho drove off, heading back to your base.

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

“Fuck!” Chan said as he slammed the door to his office shut, screaming out of frustration. He slammed his hands down on his desk, closing his eyes as he tried to calm himself down. Suddenly the door to his office opened, someone walking in. 

“Did you get her?” the deep voice asked, waiting in anticipation. Chan turned around to face the young man, his face filled with guilt. “I’m sorry Felix, we couldn’t, but we will get her back, I promise”, Chan said to his team mate, Felix.

Felix met you four years ago while you were drinking in your local coffee shop. You were drinking by yourself and he thought you looked cute, so he decided to go over to you and introduce himself. Hopefully you wouldn’t think he was a weirdo. 

Luckily you thought he was cute too, so you let him buy you a drink and you talked for ages. You kept staring at his face, thinking how beautiful he was. You’ve never met anyone as attractive as this man, and you felt butterflies in your stomach whenever he spoke in his deep voice. 

You talked about your life goals and what you wanted to achieve in life, and things you liked to do in your free time. You told him you worked an office job, even though you didn’t find it very exciting it paid your bills. You asked him where he worked and he looked hesitant to answer at first, but he replied by saying he worked for an unknown company, and you thought he meant that he didn’t want to reveal his job so you didn’t ask any more questions.

The more you spoke, the closer you got. You were addicted to his deep voice and his smile. Hell, you were addicted to him. He was like a drug that you couldn’t resist, no matter how hard you tried to stay away. Not that you wanted to stay away from him anyway.

A year into your friendship, he realised he had feelings for you. The way you smiled, the way you cared for everyone. Everything you did, he fell in love with you even more. He didn’t know if you felt the same, but only time will tell.

One day, though, you suddenly confessed to him out of nowhere, saying that you had feelings for him. Honestly, he didn’t see you as the bold type but guess he was wrong. You figured that if you confessed your feelings, Felix would do the same. Yeah, Felix wasn’t as secretive about his feelings towards you as he thought. You told him that and he felt embarrassed as he covered his face with his hands. He soon asked you out to be his girlfriend, holding your hands. 

As soon as you got together, though, he had to be extra careful since he was part of the mafia, and he didn’t want you to find out. He didn’t want to risk putting you in any danger. He didn’t even tell his team mates about you, not wanting to risk them finding you.

Felix was lucky enough to keep his secret from you in the three years you were together, making sure you didn’t expect a thing. He thought everything was going well, until you suddenly stopped replying to his messages and missing his calls. He knew something was up as you never missed his calls unless you were busy, and you would message him if you were. 

He soon realised who kidnapped you, wanting to kill Hongjoong. He had to tell his team mates what happened, and hope that they won’t kill you after they find you. He loved you too much to lose you.

Felix paced the room, tugging on his hair. “Hey, Felix, we’ll find her, I promise you. After we do, we can kill those bastards for kidnapping her”, Chan reassured him, patting him on the shoulder. 

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

You were all gathered around a table, you sitting between Wooyoung and Yeosang. “So, what do we do about this rival group, Stray Kids? I think you called them?” you said to Hongjoong, who was sitting opposite you.

“I have a plan. There’s a party not far from here which I’m pretty sure they will be going to, so we’ll be going there too. y/n, you try to seduce one of them and distract him, and the rest of us will get the others”, Hongjoong said, looking round at everyone.

You’ve never seduced anyone in your life before, let alone a complete stranger. You soon started thinking about your boyfriend- well, ex boyfriend- and how much you missed him. You missed his warm hugs, his warm smile and his presence. You were lost in thought until you felt someone poke you in the arm, looking to your side, seeing Wooyoung looking at you.

“Be warned though, there will be lots of sick men there, who will do anything to get what they want, so be careful and keep an eye out”, Hongjoong said, looking straight at you. That sent a shiver down your spine, making you fear for your life. What if you accidentally walk into one of those men?

Everyone got up out of their seats and left the room, leaving you alone at the table. How were you going to seduce someone you don’t even know? You had to go through with it if you wanted to take them down.

It was almost time to go, and you were checking yourself in the mirror. Your hair and makeup looked perfect, you had your red dress on, as well as heels. You had both your knife and gun hidden underneath your dress, which were strapped to your thighs.

You left your room, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor. You saw the others, who were either cleaning their guns or fixing their suits in a mirror. They all stopped as soon as they saw you, and you were sure you heard them gasp to themselves. Just seeing their reactions made you feel more confident and you loved it.

You all went in separate cars so it will make your presence less suspicious. You, Wooyoung, Yeosang and Yunho were in one car and the rest were in another car. You stared down at the mask you were holding, which was a black masquerade mask with feathers and sequins attached to it. It was a full face mask so when you put it on, hopefully no one will recognise you.

You soon arrived at the party, which was being held in a huge mansion. There was a huge fountain in the middle of the front grounds, and there were flowers planted in the grass which was running round the mansion.

Before you got out of the car, you put your mask on and made sure your in-ear piece was working, which it was thankfully. The door opened, revealing Wooyoung as he held his hand out. You held it, getting out of the car. 

You made your way into the mansion, seeing lots of people already inside. There were so many people, how were you supposed to know who to look for? You discreetly looked around, trying to find who you were supposed to be looking for but it’s difficult when you don’t know what they look like and also because nearly everyone is wearing a mask.

“Hongjoong, who am I supposed to be looking for?” you said, quiet enough so that people can’t hear you but loud enough so that Hongjoong could hear you. “You’ll know once you see them, it’s not hard to miss them”, Hongjoong said into your ear. Well that’s not very helpful, is it? 

You walked off, heading towards the bar to order yourself a drink. “A porn star martini please”, you asked the bartender, and he started making it. You stood there, watching him as he made it. Suddenly, someone walked up next to you, standing beside you. You looked to your right, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was handsome.

You looked back at the bartender but when the man stood next to you spoke, your eyes widened. “Did you come here alone?” he asked and you whipped your head around to look back at him. The bartender placed your drink in front of you and you picked it up, thanking the bartender.

“If I said I came here alone, I would be lying”, you said, and the man in front of you gently grabbed your free hand, taking you somewhere private. You entered a room which was empty, and he closed the door behind him.

He took his mask off and you let out a gasp. Felix? What was he doing here? You took off your mask and dropped it to the floor. You downed your drink in one go, the shock of seeing Felix hitting you.

Before you even said anything to him, you hugged him. He hugged you back as he wrapped his arms around you, no space between your bodies. He still smelled the same as you took in his cologne, making you smile. You completely forgot the reason you were at the party as you continued hugging him.

You had to pull away though as you remembered the reason why you were there, taking a step back from him. “Felix, why are you here? How did you find me?” you had many questions going through your mind, making you confused. He carefully took a step forward, making sure not to scare you off. Luckily you didn’t move as he stood closer to you. “I know I should have told you sooner but I didn’t want to risk putting you in any danger”, he said, making you furrow your eyebrows. “How do I put this? I’m part of the mafia?” he said, well it sounded more like a question than anything.

“Wait, you’re part of Stray Kids?” you asked, and he nodded. That makes so much sense now. How he always showed up with bruises or cuts on his face and chest, and he told you he got into a fight with someone. You didn’t even question it, fearing that you would make him angry.

“When you didn’t respond to any of my messages or calls, I knew something was wrong. And my instincts were right, you were kidnapped by Ateez”, he said, and you felt a tear run down your cheek. A few minutes later, you heard a voice in your ear. It was Hongjoong. You must have been in the room for a good half an hour.

“y/n, I hope you managed to distract one of the Stray Kids members. I want you to kill him”, Hongjoong said and you scoffed. You didn’t answer him and that made him angry, and the next few words he said made a shiver run down your spine. 

“y/n, if you don’t do as you are ordered in the next few minutes, I won’t hesitate to kill you myself”, he said, and you didn’t even think before taking the in-ear piece out of your ear and dropping it on the floor. You could hear Hongjoong screaming through it, ignoring his hateful words. You were glad you weren’t brainwashed and could still think for yourself as you held Felix’s hand, bringing him closer to you.

“I’m so sorry for making you worry. I had no choice but to join them as if I didn’t, he would have killed me and I didn’t want to die”, you said as you felt yourself well up with tears, and Felix shushed you as he kissed your head. “It’s ok, sweet. I’m just glad that you’re alive. Now, do you have anything to protect yourself with?” he asked and you showed him the knife and gun you had.

“Guys, I have her”, Felix said into his in-ear piece, walking out of the room, still holding your hand. You put your masks back on so no one would recognise you. There was a sudden loud bang and then a bunch of screams, making you stop in your tracks. What are Wooyoung and Yeosang doing?

You ran (trying not to fall over in your heels) to the main hall, Felix trailing behind you. You saw a few bodies lying on the floor, which you presumed were dead bodies. Everyone was screaming, running around like headless chickens. You felt someone run up behind you, making you scream as you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, y/n, calm down. It’s only Hyunjin”, Felix said, nodding at Hyunjin. “I want you to take y/n somewhere safe”, Felix said to Hyunjin as you looked between the two. Hyunjin held your hand gently, his big hand engulfing your small one.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. If you go down, we go down together”, you said as you held Felix’s hand. You let go of their hands to take your mask off, throwing it to the floor. They also did the same before reaching for their gun. You ran forward, dodging people who nearly bumped into you.

You were face to face with Jongho, and you just stared at each other. He wasn’t wearing his mask anymore, and he had blood smeared on his face. His hands were covered in blood, and you were sure that wasn’t his blood.

He smirked before charging at you, and you were glad that you knew how to fight otherwise you were screwed. You ran forward and did a front flip, wrapping your legs around his neck and knocking him to the ground. You grabbed your knife and stabbed him in the arm, earning a scream from him.Your legs were wrapped tightly around him, ensuring he couldn’t budge. He hit your legs numerous times, trying to get you off him.

“I might have been part of your team for a while but you didn’t brainwash me. How many innocent people have you killed, huh? I thought you only went after bad people, people who abused others and did awful shit. Turns out you’re the bad guys, not Stray Kids”, you said before quickly reaching for your gun, pointing it at Jongho’s head and pulling the trigger. You got off him, his dead body lying on the floor as blood started pooling out of his head.

You walked away from his body, the main target on your mind being Hongjoong. You wanted to make him suffer, for ripping you away from your friends and family. You wanted to make his death slow and painful. You were filled with rage and hatred for the man. You can’t believe you thought they were doing good when in reality, they were the bad guys the entire time.

You heard jingling and you looked up, seeing the chandelier above you getting ready to fall. Not even a few seconds later, the chandelier came crashing down. Luckily you managed to get out of the way in time, jumping out of the way as your body hit the ground. The chandelier hit the ground with a loud bang, destroying the wooden floor.

You figured you weren’t going to get very far in your heels so you took them off, deciding to go barefoot instead. You saw Hyunjin and Felix fighting people, who were shouting at other guys, who you assumed were the rest of Stray Kids.

You got up off the floor, and headed towards the stairs, hoping that Hongjoong was up there. You checked in different rooms, to see if he was hiding in one of them. You turned a corner, and you felt yourself being thrown against the wall.

“What the fuck?” you said, groaning as the back of your head hit the wall. You opened your eyes, seeing Yunho gripping your shoulders. He towered over you, the top of your head barely reaching his chin. “Get off me”, you said, trying to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. 

You kneed him in the crotch, making him hunch over. You pushed him and kicked him in the stomach before smacking his face into the wall next to you. He groaned in pain and tried to grab you but you were quicker, jumping on his back and grabbed his hair. You grabbed your knife with your free hand and stabbed him in the neck. He fell to the ground with you still on top of him, Yunho holding the side of his neck to try and stop the blood from pouring out. But it was no use as his body went limp.

You stepped over his body, and that’s when you noticed a part of your dress was ripped. God damn it, that dress was expensive. Oh well, you’ll just have to deal with it. You continued looking in every room, but you couldn’t find him. Where is the bastard hiding? 

You went back downstairs since you couldn’t find him upstairs, maybe he was somewhere downstairs. As soon as you got to the bottom step, you saw more dead bodies lying on the floor. You’ve never seen so many dead bodies in your life. Many of those could have been innocent and wanted to enjoy the party. You saw Yeosang in the distance who had his back to you, and you didn’t even think as you aimed your gun at him, hoping to hit him straight in the back. You just hope he doesn’t move. You pulled the trigger, the bullet flying through the air at high velocity. Before the bullet could reach Yeosang, Wooyoung jumped in front of him, the bullet piercing Wooyoung’s shoulder as he let out a scream. Both of them fell to the ground, Wooyoung holding his shoulder. Wooyoung came out of nowhere and you weren’t expecting that.

You kept shooting at them as they ran away, disappearing as they turned a corner. You looked around the room, trying to see if you could see Felix or Hyunjin, but you couldn’t find them as you started to panic. Suddenly you felt someone tackle you from behind, pushing you to the ground.

“You fucking bitch”, it was Seonghwa who tackled you, and if looks could kill, you would be dead in an instant. He hit you across the face, and he was wearing rings so the metal cut your face, blood trickling down your nose. He hit you again and again, and then he proceeded to wrap his hands around your throat, making you gasp for air.

You struggled under him, hitting his arms to try and get him off you, kicking your feet. You felt yourself losing consciousness quickly, preparing for the worst. Seonghwa was soon pulled off you, and you could finally breathe again, coughing as you held your throat. 

“Don’t fucking touch her”, it was Felix who pulled him off you. He pointed his gun at Seonghwa’s forehead and pulled the trigger, his body soon dropping to the floor. Felix helped you up, checking to see if you had any major injuries. A couple of guys ran up to the both of you, and their faces were bruised and bloody.

“You must be y/n, hello”, one of the guys said as he awkwardly waved to you. You waved back to him as you continued to rub your throat. “Jeongin, Seungmin, you guys ok?” Felix asked his gang mates. You awkwardly stood there while they talked, not knowing what to do. You looked around and that’s when you saw Hongjoong coming out of a room, on the phone with someone.

“Kim Hongjoong, I’m going to fucking murder your ass”, you shouted at him and you ran over to him. He grabbed his gun, pointing it straight at you, making you freeze. “Don’t come any closer or I will shoot”, he said, gripping his gun. He held his phone out and on the screen it had a red button on it. 

“What the fuck did you do?” you asked, referring to the button. He chuckled darkly before speaking, “I rigged this place with explosives and by pressing this button, this place gets destroyed”, he said as he continued chuckling. You looked back at Felix with fear evident on your face. The rest of his gang mates were now with him, and they were all holding their guns.

Wooyoung, Yeosang, San and Mingi had turned up, and they were confused about where the rest of their members were. “What the fuck did you do to Jongho, Yunho and Seonghwa?!” Hongjoong shouted to you, and now it was your turn to chuckle. “Don’t worry about them, you need to worry about yourselves now”, you said before making a quick move, grabbing your knife and throwing it straight at Hongjoong’s hand, knocking his phone out of his hand. Luckily the phone didn’t land on the screen, the button facing upwards.

You charged at Hongjoong, dodging all of his punches. You kicked him in the stomach, making him trip backwards, but he managed to steady himself. He swung his arm, making you duck and grab his arm, throwing him to the ground. You grabbed his arm with both hands, snapping it in half, Hongjoong letting out a blood curdling scream.

In the background, Wooyoung’s, Yeosang’s, San’s and Mingi’s bodies were lying on the floor, a bullet wound in the middle of their foreheads. Hongjoong thrashed around on the floor, the bone of his elbow showing from where you broke his arm. 

“Not so tough and scary now, are you?” you said as you stared down at him with a smirk. He tried to get up, using his good arm to push himself up. You saw a shotgun on the floor and picked it up, aiming the shotgun at his legs, and pulled the trigger. The bottom half of his legs got blown off as he let out another scream of agony. 

“Now stay down”, you said, dropping the shotgun on the floor. You walked over to where his phone is and picked it up, staring at the button. You walked over to Felix and pulled him in for a kiss, which only lasted for a few seconds. The 9 of you walked away, heading towards the exit. 

“DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME Y/N!” Hongjoong shouted but you ignored his shouts and cries, walking out of the building. When you were far enough away from the building, you pressed the button on the phone, the building blowing up, pieces of the building flying in different directions, the loud bang ringing in your ears. You looked at Felix and he looked back at you, smiling at you. You were glad to be back with him, and you never felt so glad about killing someone. Hopefully by joining Stray Kids, you will bring peace to Seoul and protect innocent civilians instead of killing them, which is what Ateez did. You also have a new family who will treat you kindly and not want to kill you, which made you happy.

[darnianwayne]

“Sir. Come inside.”

Bruce was surprised, though his body didn’t react. He hadn’t heard the back door open, hadn’t heard Alfred’s soft footfalls in the dewy grass. It seemed he was losing his touch.

He didn’t respond. Just kept staring at the gray stone in front of him.

Here lies Jason Peter Todd, proclaimed the stone. Friend. Soldier. Son.

He remembered Alfred and Dick had fought him on the second designator. “It’s not the way to remember him,” Dick had said with steely eyes, nearly a year ago. “He was more than a soldier. He was—we were family!”

I know that, Bruce would have said, had he been able to find the words. I know that. But I sent him out as a soldier. He died as a soldier—because of me. He died because of me. Can’t you see? I sent him away and he fought and he died.

“He was never family to you,” he’d replied instead and been rewarded for his callousness with a hurt look and two months of radio silence.

Alfred had not said anything then, when Bruce had the stone made, but his silences had stretched longer, his manner had become more formal, and Bruce had known he did not approve, either.

But Bruce had been resolute and so Jason was forever memorialized as a fallen soldier—Bruce’s fallen soldier. Bruce’s mistake. His burden to bare. Here in the family plot and down in the Cave.

A part of him regretted it now, staring at the stone months out. It was true—Jason had died as Batman’s soldier. But it was Jason the boy that Bruce mourned and remembered most. He missed his sarcasm, his humor, his occasional ill-manners and his bright optimism. He missed how excited he would get about school, how seriously he took his studies—more enthusiastic than Dick had ever been. He had been working on a report about King Lear before they’d ever got news about the then unknown Sheila Todd and their lives had changed forever. He’d still been on Act I, annoyed at all Lear’s daughters, even Cordelia.

“She could’ve nicer,” he’d said. “Sure, she was honest, but sometimes you gotta pretty your words up or else people won’t listen. I bet she dies at the end.”

“It is a tragedy,” Bruce had hummed, amused.

Suddenly—a hand at his side, pulling him from his memories, the slightest pressure.

“You are bleeding, Master Bruce,” said Alfred.

“I’ll be in soon, Alfred,” he murmured.

“And you have not changed.”

His cowl was off, his hair free to blow in the breaking dawn breeze, but he was still in the tattered, bloody remains of the Batman suit. By his estimation, his ribs were bruised from being thrown against the pavement one too many times. His shoulder was sore from when he’d popped it back in place earlier in the night. One of his eyes was swelling shut. He wasn’t aware he had split skin, that he was darkening the grass with anything more than his mood.

“Please,” said Bruce. “I want to be with him. Just for a little while.”

“Very well, Master Bruce.”

So they stood together, side by side, staring at the stone and remembering.

batober challenge, day 1 - alive

[ellewritesathing]

Infernal    IX

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 2k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 9

A/N: sorry for dropping of the face of the earth!! i’ve been super overwhelmed with uni but here we are 💕 enjoy the angst

When you went to her for help to face the Absolute Dark, Lilith had told you that you could feed on the dark and absorb its power. Even after unbinding your powers, you were left with more power than ever before. You were warned about the dangers of power, but no one told you how consuming it would be. There wasn't a moment that went by that you didn't draw on the Darkness, and almost all you could think about was testing the limits of your power. Every day was a new attempt at mastery, sometimes in the form of controlling a jerk who went too far and other times by tearing through the pages of a grimoire. You'd missed school. You hadn’t talked to your friends in days. For the first time in your life, you were selfish.

You thought Caliban would have liked the new, rebellious version of you better - Lilith certainly did - but he’d been acting strangely ever since the incident at the Paramount. He was more closed-off with you than before, more hesitant with what he said or did to you. At first, his concern for your safety was amusing, but now it just infuriated you. You felt watched and alone even when you were with him.

If he didn’t trust you anymore, then Caliban should just leave. 

The flame on the wick exploded, and you cursed as you shook out your burnt palm and scowled at the ruined ritual in front of you. Exploring the Celestial Realm would have to wait.

“Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am bound upon a wheel of fire.” 

“That mine own tears do scald like molten lead.” With a sigh, you lowered your palm to your side and turned to face the familiar voice in the corner of your room. “King Lear.” 

Caliban’s mouth turned up into a smile. “You’ve been reading.” He leaned easily against your doorframe, seemingly forgetting how your last interaction had blown up. 

“I’ve had time,” you said. You crossed your arms over your chest as you walked closer. “What are you doing here?” 

Caliban shrugged and stepped closer. “Quiet day in Hell. I thought we could talk.” 

“And what do you want to talk about today?” 

Caliban reached a hand out to the side of your neck, but you didn’t move. His touch was frosty. “Theo says you haven’t been at school. He was worried about you.” 

Your voice caught in your throat. The Darkness stirred at the idea of your friends talking about you behind your back. “I didn’t know you two were so close.”

“Well, since Rosalind is dating Huckleberry Finn, so Theo is my favorite…” Caliban sucked in a breath when you didn’t respond to his joke. He dropped his hand and looked down for a moment. “Have you given any more thought to my offer?” 

“Your offer to fix me?” 

“That isn't what I said.” 

“But it’s what you meant.” You poked his chest angrily. “Because you think there’s something wrong with me.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” Caliban’s easy sense of calm faltered as he reached for your hand. He wasn't used to being vulnerable or trying so hard. “Please, will you just listen to me for a moment? This much Darkness is dangerous. It’s changing you.” 

“Have you ever thought this is how I’m supposed to be?” You stepped closer and lowered your voice. “I’m Lilith's heir. I’m made of darkness.”

“This isn’t who you are.” 

“Yes, it is!” 

The candles behind you reignited, their flames exploding to touch your ceiling. You ripped your hands away and stumbled back. Even with all the arguing you'd done and all Darkness in your veins, you’d never yelled at Caliban before then. You breathed heavy, unsteady breaths, trying to get your heart to stop racing and your hands to stop shaking. 

Despite his furrowed brow and stormy eyes, Caliban was rooted to the spot just in front of your door. His hand twitched to help you, but he didn’t make any other movements. 

“There is nothing wrong with me, do you understand? I’m not broken.” 

Caliban’s lips parted, but lightning cracked in your room before he got the chance to speak. The candles were snuffed out in the blinding light, and for a moment, the room was deathly still. The hair on your arms stood on end. 

Lilith’s cry brought you back to reality. She clutched her ginormous belly in one hand and clung to one of the minions with her other. When she opened her eyes, instead of explaining, she zeroed in on Caliban. “What is he doing here?” 

“He was just leaving,” you said before he could answer. As angry as you were with him, you weren’t going to let your mother hurt him. 

Caliban smiled, but it wasn’t as warm as before; his smile was something rueful and tight-lipped. He bowed, twirling his hand as he did, and said, “As you wish,” before disappearing in Hellfire.

It would have hurt less if he stuck a dagger in your chest and twisted. 

Lilith screamed again as she crumpled to her knees. Glaring up at you, she forced out, “Something’s wrong with my baby. Take me to Zelda Spellman.”

---

Growing up, it had always been you and your dad. He taught you how to tie your shoes, tried an awfully intricate hairstyle for your first day of school, and read you a story every night before bed. As much as you loved him, it always felt as though your family was missing something. Having long given up on your mom ever coming home, you asked him if you could have a little brother. He promised that one day, when you’d probably forgotten that you asked in the first place, you’d get a little brother. 

It was an easy lie to get you to stop asking about having a family - except, as you held the sleeping lump in your arms, you realized that your dad never lied to you. This perfect, troublesome little lump was all you’d ever wanted. 

“What do you want to name him?” Lilith asked. You turned away from the window to face her as she pulled herself into a sitting position. She winced slightly as she did, more out of annoyance than pain. 

“What?” 

Rolling her eyes, she repeated, “What do you want to name him?” 

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. Looking down at his face, it was hard to believe he came into this world without a name. It was hard to believe that you’d only had him a few hours at most. “Michael?” 

“Less angelic,” Lilith critiqued, taking a long sip from the healing elixir Hilda had given her. Her disdain for herbalism was clear on the look of her face.

You huffed, rocking slightly on your heel to keep him sleeping. “His name is Adam.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you thought about it, sounding offhand but packing a punch. Lilith’s grip on the glass turned her fingers bone white. After an icy second, she repeated the name to herself. A wicked smile covered her features. “Adam,” she hummed. “I could agree to that, on the condition that-”

A knock sounded at the door and Lilith froze. Whoever was outside knocked again and you heard Zelda mumbling as the door handle turned and Lilith told them to come inside. She pulled you and Adam closer to her side. Uncharacteristically patient for her, Lilith waited for the witches to shuffle inside and explain that the Lords of Hell were asking to pay tribute to Adam. 

The Uninvited had been the Darkness' family. When they were trapped in the alternate reality of Sabrina's dollhouse, the Darkness had lashed out with a white-hot fury, pushing angrily at your ribs and trying to break out. The thought of Adam being taken away from made the Darkness just as angry, but the scary thing was that it made you even angrier. 

“Pay tribute?” Lilith scoffed, reaching to take Adam from your arms. Reluctantly, you let her take him. “They are here for one reason and one reason only: to kill my baby.” Before either of the Spellmans could respond, she added, “The baby you just delivered, Zelda Spellman.”

Zelda knotted her hands together. “Very well. Let’s give them the welcome they deserve.” Turning to the witches, “Ladies, if you’ll follow me.” 

“Actually…” you stepped forward and tilted your chin up. “I’d like to have a word with them.”

Zelda faltered for the first time in all the years you’d known her. She might have known about your powers, but it must have been difficult for her to process that the child that brought her dandelions each spring was a demon. “Alright,” she said with a nod. “We will be right beside you.” 

With a nod of your own, you led the way to the Academy gates. Your chest buzzed at the idea of being one of these witches, butterflies fluttering through the Darkness with all the excitement. Standing in front of the Lords, you clenched your tingling fingertips. They were as unpleasant to look at as the day you met them. 

“What do you want?”

They looked at each other for a moment before one of them nodded and the other said, “Word has reached the Infernal Palace that a babe was born of Lucifer’s concubine, Lilith. We come bearing gifts?”

“Aren’t there supposed to be three of you?” With each word, you took a step down the gates. Pointing a finger at the gifts in their hands, you asked, “With gold, frankincense, and myrrh instead of these … trinkets?” 

The other one pulled the box close to himself. Asmodeus, if you remembered right. “Bite your tongue, you insolent child. We come at the Dark Lord’s behest.” 

You tilted your head to the side. Letting the Darkness seep into your veins, you told him. “Bite your tongue.” He frowned, blinking slowly. “I said: Bite your tongue, and because you didn’t do it right the first time, now I want you to bite it off.”

His voice rose, but all that came out were a few strangled noises before Asmodeus’ eyes glazed over, the box fell to the ground, and blood oozed out of his mouth. He spat his tongue into his hands, coughing and trying to speak, as Beelzebub cursed you. 

He didn't get very far before Darkness tinged your vision as you turned to him. You didn’t have to speak this time to control him, just wave a hand and watch him fall to his knees. 

“We will not leave-” he grit his teeth as he struggled against the weight of your will “-without the babe.”

Bending down, you grabbed one of the horns on the top of his head to pull his face up to meet your own. “No.” You smiled. “No, I don’t think you’ll be leaving here at all.” 

You threw his head to the side and took a step back, watching Asmodeus choke on his own blood and Beelzebub writhe. The Darkness filled your body, and the world grew so still that your heart didn’t dare disturb it by beating. In a cold, distant voice, you recited your most familiar spell. 

“Ater ignus, fusce fume.” Beelzebub yelled. You clenched a fist to force his mouth shut. “Te evoco ut potentium tuam monstres.” A spark ignited, right between each of their shoulder blades. “Cupidibus flammis hic veni.” The flames licked their backs, growing taller and darker by the second. “Caelo sub isto, harc arborem consumo.” The puddle of Asmodeus’ blood caught alight, illuminating his wretched face as it burned. “Lucem tenebrasque tuas monstra. Impetuum tuum evoco ad devorandum.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let the Darkness consume all three of you. “Hanc arborem ac omnes hospitas devora.” 

The flames erupted in front of you, blinding your eyes and knocking you off your feet. You were dimly aware of the witches screaming your name and the rush of heels against cobblestones as something sticky and cold dripped down your face. Not tears. Or blood. 

Only Darkness. 

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[tickleinvaforums]

Is there a way not to be ticklish?

Now, I am here to answer. Is there a way not to be ticklish? Rest your hand on the hand of your tickler. You're less likely to feel ticklish if your brain can predict the movement before it happens. By putting your hand on the ticklers, their tickling motions will be more predictable to your brain, and you won't feel as ticklish when they touch you. To block a tickle, simply place your hands on top of the tickler's hands. Squeak! tickling can have its uses. When your brain has to process multiple sensations at once, it may not have the bandwidth to focus on the tickling feeling and the other sensations. Gently pinch, rub, or tap your fingers somewhere else to distract your brain.

Some people believe that they can desensitize themselves to tickling through repetition. They can get people to tickle them for practice. However, scientific research has not uncovered a specific strategy that will help people become less ticklish. If your feet become less ticklish immediately or over time, there may be an underlying, medical cause, such as peripheral neuropathy. This is a degenerative nerve disease that damages the nerve endings in feet. Peripheral neuropathy can be caused by: pressure on the nerves. Emily Grossman of The Royal Institution, there's a technique you can use to reduce the tickle response. When someone attempts to tickle you, put your hand on their hand. Grossman suggests that this action will help your brain better predict the sensation of being tickled, and help you suppress your tickle response.

We all process sensory information in different ways,” says Lear. “If someone isn't ticklish or actively dislikes tickling even when calm, that doesn't mean something is wrong with them—it's just a personal preference. While the palm is far more sensitive to touch, most people find that the soles of their feet are the most ticklish. Other commonly ticklish areas include the belly, sides of the torso, underarms, ribs, midriff, neck, back of the knee, thighs, buttocks, nose, feet, and perineum. During adolescence, tickling takes on a flirtatious tone, and after middle age, it dramatically declines. Perhaps due to decreased opportunities or shunted sensorial responses that come with aging, the pleasurable agony of a tickle remains the stuff of childhood, at the root of our emotional being. Now, I hope this has answered your question. Is there a way not to be ticklish? Have a nice day!

[flashbang-througthe-door]

Random facts about some of my ocs

A/n: it's one am and I choose pain

Tw: swearing, speaking about death/dying

Salvage

Thinks he's a badass but is really a dumbass

Gets under everyone's skin

Loves soda but shouldn't drink it

Tight hugger

Throws heat like a tire fire

“I slammed my hand on a knife„

Should be put on a leash

Is truly on his own side

Has tattoos, one on his arm that's the classic line of barbed wire and one on his forearm for his mother

Luke

The smart brother

Wants Peck happy and healthy

Has an Aether Crystal lodged in his thigh

Actually fucking dying

Is getting weaker as time progresses

Always cold

Has the "He's dying throw him in a cell" jail card

Tired, because the crystal is slowly taking his energy

Tattoos, One on his back being the tree of life and one on his pointer finger of a cross

Lear

Hates Halloween

“Im too old for this„

Dies during the bunker escape, was taken back to the safehouse to die

Tired bitch face energy

Lanky tol man

Believes someone up in heaven hates him

Has no feeling in his chest do to the burn damaged

The middle name his mom gave him gli eroi non muoiono mai means heroes never die in Italian

Tattoo, cherry blossoms on his shoulder blade with five open blooms

Alexander Hartfield

Bell, Tinker Bell, Bell ringer, Bell boy

A ginger who loves his hair

Dies due to Adler

Doesn't really know when to talk when the others are fightng

“This five percent doing the mission and ninety-five percent of me getting hurt„

Hugs people when he's scared

Loves going on food runs

Falls asleep in the strangest of places

Tattoos, a dove on his rib cage with the date of his mother's death, a snake on wrapped around the top half of his right arm and a heart on his middle finger

Sammy Pierson

Has gotten his finger stuck in canten

Aieoll is a good friend, his most trusted friend after Turner's passing

Doesn't really get angry but if Stiles is being mean all bets are off

Yanks on Turner's belt loop when he needs something

“There is this pain in my chest„ “That's a panic attack Sammy”

Was late for basic training