#like my f/o might have a wound but it still catches me off guard

[self-insert-hell]

When everything is sfw but you still get flustered seeing your f/o(s) without a shirt/unbuttoned shirt.

[stories-to-tell-by-lantern-light]

Who Am I Really?

(Eyeless Jack X Reader)

Iron was all he could taste, as he hugged his arms close to his chest. The white snow that speckled the forest floor contrasted greatly with his newly acquired ash-grey skin. He could feel blood crusting under his fingernails, he could feel the sting of the cold snow underneath his bare feet as he walked. Whatever they did to him, he was no longer human that much was clear, his feet turned more animal-like and had ripped through his old shoes. If he was being honest with himself he knew that from the moment he awoke and could still see that he was no longer human.

Jack Nichols shivered as he caressed the hollow sockets where his eyes should’ve been. They were dripping with the black tar that was mercilessly poured in there by Jenny and her cult.

‘That absolute fucking bitch.’ He thought, and an animal-like snarl tore through his throat. He could feel the stretching and popping of his jaw as he ground his teeth together. Killing her and her stupid friends was therapeutic to him, remembering the taste of their blood as it filled his mouth when he tore out their throats made him feel euphoric. Pausing his steps only for a brief moment he let those memories of eating their flesh and organs consume him, it only served to make his mouth water.

What was wrong with him? Why did that memory, which happened only hours ago, make him so god damn hungry? What exactly had they done to him, as much as he tried not to dwell on that thought the hunger that ate away at him even after the slaughter was almost too much to handle. All Jack wanted when he woke up this morning was to go on a date with a cute girl, get a little drunk, and maybe get lucky (though realistically that was just wishful thinking). The true college experience one might say, even for a med student. Especially with a schedule as busy as his...that was as busy as his. He knew he should’ve just stuck to focusing on school and studying his brain out, god why did he have to listen to his friends as they urged him on the date.

‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

This. This was clearly the worst possible outcome.

What he really couldn’t believe, however, was that he allowed one of the cultists to get a hit on him, and a bad one at that. Turning his head to glance down at the tear in his thigh, it was a deep gash that desperately needed to get medical attention and fast. The only problem the former medical student faced was that whatever was pouring out of his leg wasn’t blood. It was a deep black ooze that stained the white snow that littered the forest floor. In fact, Jack wasn’t even sure if normal medical supplies would even heal his wound. Jack grit his teeth trudging onwards into the forest, a faint buzzing reverberated around in his skull like flies buzzing around a corpse that he couldn’t seem to shake.

He placed his hand against a tree the world spinning around him. Whatever the blood-like substance that was pouring out of his leg was, he was losing it fast. Jack heard the crunching of snow in front of him and a small gasp. It took most of his strength but he picked his head up and snarled. Jack bared his teeth and tried to make himself look as dangerous as possible, he felt like a wild animal that was cornered by the hunter. There was a girl in front of him, she had (h/l) (h/c) hair that was stuffed under a furry winter hat. She took a few steps back, her brown snow boots making giant footprints in her wake. He could hear the blood flowing through this girl’s veins, as her anxiety levels seemed to spike. The anxiety caused her heartbeat to quicken drastically, hearing the sound only served to increase Jack’s seemingly ceaseless hunger. Jack tried to take another step towards her, flexing the sharp nails on his hands but collapsed under his own weight, his fucking leg. He really couldn’t catch a break, could he?

“What are you?” The girl’s voice held a slight quiver to it and Jack could feel her sharp eyes burning holes into his body. He watched as she hesitantly took a step closer, her (f/c) parka standing out against the muted colors of the forest.

“I don’t know.” He responded with a raspy breath, she smelled divine but he had no strength to attack. Something in his bones told him that he was beyond human, something so much more, a god perhaps? What a silly thought that he couldn’t shake away. Through his quickly blurring vision, he swore he could make out a pair of fancy dress shoes a little bit behind the girl. He saw the girl drop to her knees and cover her ears, his vision went black and the sound of static accompanied the darkness.

---

Jack was expecting to be dead. He expected to be accompanied by beautiful white light, maybe an angel or something. However, it caught him very off guard when he suddenly awoke in a rather plush bed. He threw the plaid covers off himself unceremoniously and moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed. The baby god never got far because he let out a howl of pain as a sharp sensation traveled up his thigh. Shit right, his entire upper thigh was practically ripped open. He forgot all about that, glancing down at his wound he noticed it was wrapped tightly in medical bandages and he assumed it was stitched up underneath the dressings. Whoever fixed the wound seemed to have done at least a semi-decent job, at least he wasn’t dead. Sniffing the air with his newly acquired sense of smell he could make out the distinct smell of humans and...was that lavender?

Jack felt his stomach growl and he doubled over clutching it. They smelled delicious. He could practically hear their organs singing out to him, rip open the human, steal us, devour us.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the door opening, in the middle of the doorway stood the exact girl he’d seen in the forest. Immediately going on the defense he bared his teeth opening his jaw as wide as he could, he heard the popping sound of his jaw as it extended, he felt something swirl around in his mouth. He felt a chill run down his spine at the unwelcomed sensation.

Did he have more than one tongue?

Shaking the thought away Jack didn’t move to attack, he was never the type. He would always rather listen to rationality before getting his hands dirty, the only issue was he was starving and the girl would absolutely make a fine meal.

“Don’t try demon.” The girl scoffed eyeing Jack up and down, if he was still his old college self he would’ve gotten flustered at the gesture. A girl showing him attention? Unheard of back them. However, after Jenny, he was almost positive he’d never let that happen again. His sockets looked down at what the girl held in her hands, it was a plate, a plate that had kidneys on top of it. He was only mildly aware of the fact that he was drooling all over himself. “Oh gross.” She scrunched up her nose placing the organs on the bottom of the bed.

Without hesitation, Jack attacked the cold meat shoving it in his mouth with vigor. He knew blood was all over his face and hands but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Jack knew the girl’s calculated eyes were watching his every move, even so, he couldn’t help but let out a groan of pleasure as the food slid down his throat. Once the meal was finished and Jack was satisfied he finally felt he had enough strength to start asking questions.

“Who are you?” He rasped, whipping his mouth with the back of what was left of his sleeve.

“Really? You’re asking ME that question.”

“I’m not a fan of your attitude.”

“I’m not a fan of you bleeding out on my property.”

Jack growled low and guttural.

“Don’t make me hurt you.” The girl had the audacity to laugh in his face was she not aware of what he was capable of now?

“Nice try but I’m not scared of you. You’re not allowed to hurt me as long as you’re under my care.” She pointed to herself with her thumb, puffing out her chest a little however he could hear her pulse increase just the slightest bit.

Jack only scowled.

“What pray tell is exactly stopping me?” He raised an eyebrow watching carefully as the girl lifted up her sleeve to her sweater. Scared into her wrist was a symbol that Jack had never seen before in his life, but for some unknown reason, he felt dread wash over him. Carved into her wrist was an O with an X slashed through it. “What’s that supposed to prove exactly? That you’re into weird tattoos?”

The (h/c)-ette let out a loud sigh like this conversation was boring her. Oh he’s sorry it’s not his fault he was turned into a fucking organ-eating monster by a cult at his local college! If he still had his eyes they would be rolling so far back into his skull, yet he still waited for the girl to explain.

“My name is (y/n), I’m a medical proxy under The Operator. Currently one of the only ones he has left because we keep getting killed off by rogue killers.” The girl, (y/n), clicked her tongue in clear distaste at the mention of said killers. “Since I’m under The Operator it means if you kill me, he’ll kill you, that’s the deal Jacky boy.” That put him on high alert.

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

“You’re certainly full of questions for someone just waking up out of a coma. If you must know The Operator gave me a brief rundown of your file after we found you in the woods.” (Y/n) crossed her arms over her chest “It’s your lucky day because you just got hired to work for him.” She gave him a round of applause, but it sounded more mocking than serious and he only grew more confused.

“This doesn't make any sense to me. I hope you’re aware.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. It’ll all be explained in due time. For now, all you have to focus on is getting better so you can begin your training. Lucky for you, I’m your registered nurse and caregiver, so enjoy your stay at castle de la (Y/n). Trust me when I say you should value your time here while you still have it.” A thousand more questions ran through Jack’s mind and his little question and answer session with his self-proclaimed nurse didn’t really help.

“So you’re a med student then?” She made a noise of affirmation picking at the strings of her sweater.

“Was a med student Jack, that pretty much came to a screeching halt after I was scouted by the boss man. That, however,” He watched as (Y/n) put a hand to her lips signaling him to stop asking questions, “Is a story for another day. The first order of business now that you’ve eaten is a shower. Cause no offense but you smell like dried blood, and coming from me that’s saying something cause I smell blood all the time.”

Jack still didn’t trust this stranger fully and it got under his skin that she seemed to know everything about him and he knew next to nothing about her. Yet, a shower did seem nice at this moment, he glanced down at his hands and noticed his nails were caked with dry blood. He could only imagine what every other part of his body looked like, (y/n) clearly didn’t bother cleaning him up aside from dressing his wounds.

“A shower sounds good.” Jack nodded in confirmation and the girl gave a relieved smile.

“Oh thank God you agreed, it took me a week of convincing to get Jeff to go take his first shower.” Jack decided it was best not to ask who Jeff was deciding that that was a can of worms he shouldn’t open just yet. She reached out to touch him and he immediately recoiled back almost biting her handoff, the smile that appeared disappeared into a frown.

“Don’t touch me.” Memories of Jenny’s friends holding him down while he pleaded for his life flashed across his mind. The blade coming closer and closer to Jack’s crystal blue eyes before making contact and-

“Alright, cannibal boy snap out of it. Can’t have you succumbing to blood lust just yet. You don’t wanna injure yourself more.” (Y/n) snapped her fingers next to his ears and he couldn’t help but feel a little grateful that she snapped him out of his stupor. “I was going to help you to the bathroom because you really shouldn’t put pressure on your leg. Is that okay?”

Jack felt himself nodding reluctantly. She was right, he really shouldn’t put stress on his leg or it could cause more harm than good. Especially since he didn’t know the extent of the injury yet, for all he knew he was lucky they didn’t hit the femoral artery. Her arms went around his waist as the god and the human girl hobbled to the bathroom together. On the short walk there Jack was trying to get a feel of the house, in case he needed to make a grand escape in the future.

“I’ll put some fresh clothes outside the door for you, call for me when you’re done so I can help you back to the bedroom.” (Y/n) explained as Jack hobbled into the bathroom, he didn’t feel the need to respond to her as he shut the door in her face. He heard a faint click of a tongue from the other side of the door and listened to the girls retreating footsteps.

Jack leaned against the sink putting most of his weight on his hands. The sink creaked at the newfound pressure and Jack wasn’t sure it was because it was an old house or because he had newfound strength. He glanced up at the mirror, it was weird somewhat seeing when you had absolutely no eyes. It was the first time since the incident he got a good look at himself, he looked about as good as he felt.

Terrible.

His auburn hair curled around his now pointed ears and was caked in mud and dirt. He was almost grateful that (y/n) didn’t touch him aside from the wound while he was unconscious, Jack couldn’t imagine what he might’ve done if he felt anyone go near his face. Speaking of his face, he opened his mouth and saw his teeth were shaved into razor-sharp fangs. His stomach turned as he remembered the exact reason why they were like that, organs. They were like that so he could eat organs. The thought wasn’t nearly as nauseating as it should’ve been.

His skin was unnatural and sickly grey color, as he lifted up his shirt the color seemed to spread all the way down his body. He glanced down at his hands and saw his nails were long and black, almost like those girls who wore acrylics, except he was sure their nails couldn’t rip into people's chests with a single swipe. Continuing down his body he lifted up one of his padded feet, he was correct in his assumption from earlier. They were much more animal-like, he wondered if they made him faster, what purpose could they possibly serve other than that?

Gently letting his footfall back down on the floor he shuffled to the shower and turned it on, the water sprayed out in a burst and he patiently waited for it to heat up. Eventually, he was able to step inside, not before knocking his head not only against the curtain rod but also on the showerhead.

“Fuck!” He snarled glaring down at the showerhead. Jack did a little double-take, okay he was also super tall, at least he got one blessing out of whatever the fuck was happening. Jack had to kneel on the ground in order to let the water roll down his body, with a deep breath he enjoyed the warm water pelting his skin. He fumbled around with the shampoo trying to figure out how to open it without popping a hole in the container. As the lid popped open he was hit with the calming scent of lavender.

~~~

“We’ll send someone to come back and check on him in about a month give or take, see how he’s adjusting and healing.” A figure spoke from the kitchen shaking a cigarette into an ashtray, as (y/n) stood across from him. The man ran a hand through his messy brown hair “Then we’ll reassess him, give him a test and see if he’s fit to come to the mansion.” Meanwhile, the girl heaved a sigh of her own and leaned against the cool tiles of her kitchen wall.

“So it’s gonna be my responsibility to explain everything that’s happening to him? Isn’t that supposed to be your job Tim?” (y/n) raised an eyebrow “You realize he’s, like, almost seven feet tall, has no eyes and eats organs right? I’m not even sure WHAT he is.” She muttered, “The rundown I got really only gave me his background and his clear trauma.”

Tim clicked his tongue like the girl in front of him was wasting his time, it made her ball up her fists subconsciously.

God, the main proxies really got on her fucking nerves sometimes.

“You won’t have to worry about that, The Operator will handle all of that throughout the coming weeks. No need to worry. You also don’t need to worry about harvesting organs for him, and hopefully, once he’s healed he’ll work on doing that himself. But for now, someone on a kill close by will be dropping off organs.” Tim’s nose scrunched up a little and the (h/c)-nette’s did the same, she normally prided herself on her strong stomach, but this was a lot even for her. “The only thing you have to do is monitor his eating, see how much he will need on a weekly basis, and obviously keep him alive.”

“Obviously.” They both seemed to have a mutual understanding about that at least, she fucks up and he dies they’re both in deep shit with The Operator. Tim reached to the side where his porcelain mask sat against the countertop.

“Don’t fuck it up.” He pointed to her before slipping out the door leaving the women alone with an organ-eating monster. (Y/n) mimicked ‘don’t fuck it up' in a nasal voice before kicking off the wall and heading back in the direction of her guest's room, she pulled out a pair of crutches from the closet and rested them by the bedside. She gently scratched at the faintly buzzing symbol on her wrist, this is going to be a long month.

[istgimamess]

Reaction: [ S t r a y K i d s ] finding out their s/o is a [ S u p e r n a t u r a l C r e a t u r e ]

"...hi it's the anon from yesterday! so I'm not sure what way you do your reactions but something i haven't seen yet but would like to is a reaction to finding out that either their s/o or friend, whichever you'd prefer, is a supernatural creature (like werewolf, fae, witch, shape shifter, mermaid, demon, angel, anything really) for stray kids!

let me know if I didn't give you info that you need for a reaction or... if there are any problems with my request, I'm kind of shooting blindly since you don't have rules or anything right? so yea, i hope this is fine tho..."

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[ C h a n ] finds out you’re an [ A n g e l ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ C o n c e r n e d ]

^ he’s logical, fair and patient—he’s known for having a logical minds and a fair judgment. He strives for fairness and justice constantly. This makes him a  wonderful mediator. He’ll analyze every situation with his little legal eagle brain and logical mind; with the help of that he can organize all things well and eliminate the irrelevant. So when you finally admit to being an angel, show him your wings, he’ll most like keep quiet. 

^ also, he’s a great listener—he’ll most definitely listen to your side of the story before making any irrational decisions about your relationship. This goes back to his logical, fair and patient way of thinking; he’ll most likely just sit there quietly and let you do the talking, the explaining. ^ he soaks up all the ideas and information around him like a big brainy sponge. He hates conflicts and confrontations and always watches his words while communicating, talking in a way as to not offend you. When he finally does say something, his words will be well thought out, calculated.

^ he always knows a lot more than he lets on, most likely he already knew you were abnormal—a bit different—from the very start of your relationship. And he was just waiting for you to get comfortable enough to admit it to him, to officially let him in on the secret.

^ he’s very understanding. He’s very thoughtful and interprets things that most people miss out on. This will be beneficial to you when you begin to try and explain to him why you kept this a huge secret for such a long time. He’ll see that it, your unwillingness to tell anybody your origin story, has nothing to do with him not being worthy of knowing. He won’t take it personally.

^ he’ll tell you like it is, straight up, because he’s an honest and upfront person. He’ll wait until you’ve finished explaining and when you question him on his thoughts and feelings in the moment, he won’t sugar coat it—which can be both good and bad.

^ but, also, he can smell bullshit from a mile away. If you omit any significant details, or lie in any way, he will catch on almost instantly. And he won’t be happy.

^ he’s loyal to the bone and fiercely protective of you; finding out you’re an angel won’t change that. If anything, he’ll feel even more protective of both you and your secret. ^ he’ll forgive but never forget. Even though he won’t show it on the surface, he’ll be extremely hurt that it took you so long to tell him. Logically he knows it has nothing to do with him, but emotionally it will feel like you just don’t trust him enough. He’ll forgive you for keeping such a monumental secret, but he’ll never forget that feeling. But once he listens to your story, does his own research, his concern for you will outweigh those hurt feelings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So I did some research,” he trailed off, you jerked at the echo of his voice in the otherwise silent room.

“Research? On what?” you gaze over at him, not quite meeting his eyes.

“You. Well, angel’s in general, but mostly you.” his voice is much lower, the silence drags on for a moment too long. It’s suddenly stifling. 

“And?” you breath out, still caught off guard.

“What does Éloa mean?” he questions, taking a step around the bed to face you, get a better look. You narrowed your gaze, heart suddenly in your throat. How did he find that name? Did he know? Was he just testing you? You take a deep breath, eyes dropping down to the carpet beneath his bare feet. You decide to just answer him, literally. “It’s the name of an angel.” He tilts his head, contemplatively. And there is something dangerous in his eyes, something you can’t quite place. “I’ve never heard of him.” “You wouldn’t have.” you pull the blanket closer to you, resisting the sudden urge to spread your wings, stretch them wide and flee.  “Was he a fallen angel?” his eyes are darker now, assessing, he definitely knows. You know he knows. So why wasn’t he saying? “She was, yes.” you hesitate, not wanting to give too much of your past away, but unable to stop yourself. “Lucifer tricked her into falling from heaven.” “Tricked her how?” he was still standing above you, he wouldn’t approach you, hasn’t since the night he caught you in full form.  You meet his gaze. “She fell in love with him.” His eyes narrowed, his face pulled into a grimace. How disgusting must it feel to find out your girlfriend is not only a fallen angel, but also a fallen angel who was once in love with Lucifer. You shrink, your wings drawing in closer to your body. “Did he love her?” Like an addict loves his addiction, you think, bitterly.. “The only way he knew how.”  He must have been able to see the pain in your eyes because, for a moment, pure concern crossed his features. He shook his head, schooling his expression once again. “How could he trick her?” “He never told her his name.” you whisper, your voice breaking. And suddenly he wasn’t across the room, standing above you at a distance—he was right in front of you, knee on the bed, arms around your shoulders. “Shhh, it’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it now.” He reached forward to cup your cheek, the touch surprising you. "Please understand that no matter what you are or what has happened in your past, I am yours. I am devoted to you above all else, including my own life."

You exhaled after holding your breath for what felt like forever, tears spilling over in excess. "That's pretty heavy, Chan." His expression was impassioned, and the backs of his fingers brushed the side of your neck, thumbs wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. "It is a burden I am glad to carry.” ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ C h a n g b i n ] finds out you’re a [ W e r e w o l f ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ C u r i o u s ] ^ he’s kind and protective. He feels responsible and is always willing to help you out when you’re in need. He will go to great lengths to make sure that you feel loved and you’re happy. He will always stand up for the underdog, (no werewolf pun intended.) This is beneficial to you because his compassionate heart will win out over his logical mindset. 

 ^ he’s extremely loyal. If there’s one trait imbedded in him, it is his loyalty. He physically won’t be able to turn his back on you—werewolf or not.

^ he’s also very honest. He tends to be extremely direct and straightforward with you. He gives honest feedback to you when you ask for it. He would never speak a white lie just to avoid conflict, or be deemed reasonable, so you wouldn’t have to worry about him bottling up his true thoughts, opinions and emotions on the subject. 

 ^ that being said, his honesty often comes off as excessive bluntness. Therefore, at first, you might catch some heat in that department. 

^ he, at times, can be very inflexible. When he has committed to something, in this case a way of thinking, he’ll fight tooth and nail to stick to that way of thinking. Regardless of how much proof he has in front of him, it will be difficult to convince him otherwise—especially when he grew up believing that werewolves were myth, not real.

^ once he has a significant amount of proof, though, he’ll be insanely curious on the matter and his crazy sense of humor will resurface.

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“Wait, are you an alpha? An omega? Do you turn when you feel threatened?” his wide eyes, his random questioning—it all catches you off guard.

“I’m considered a dominant amongst my pack. And, yes, I guess I would if I felt threatened.” you nod slowly, holding his gaze. You’re the werewolf here, the freak of nature, but this boy—this human—is the weird one. 

“What’s a dominant? Are they more important than a submissive?” he crawls closer to you, his jeans catching on the carpet beneath you.

“Not necessarily. A submissive wolf is not incapable of protecting themselves: they can fight, they can kill as readily as any other. They are a treasure in a pack, just as important. A source of purpose and of balance.” you catch yourself quoting your great grandmother, the very first female dominant in your pack, a rare, smart, capable wolf.

“Then why does the dominant wolf exist? If a submissive wolf is just as capable, just as important, why make the distinction?” he interjects, your baffled at his level of curiosity.

“Because even through submissives are just as capable and important, they’re very different. It’s a dominants job to protect those beneath them.” you pause momentarily, watch a multitude of expressions cross his face. “Protecting a submissive is far more rewarding because a submissive will never wait until you are wounded or your back is turned to see if you are truly dominant to them. Submissive wolves can be trusted. And they unite the pack with the goal of keeping them safe and cared for.”

There is a long moment where you just stare at each other, his eyes glazed over, a childlike expression on his face. “So you’re a werewolf trapped in a human body?”

You stifle a laugh, unable to control your facial expression. "Well, yeah, that's kind of the definition."

"No, really. You’re trapped?” his eyes widen slightly, he leans forward, anticipating your answer.

"Oh? Are you trying to ask me the last time I shifted?" you voice, confusion written all over your face.

“Yes.” he nods enthusiastically. You briefly debate telling him about the traffic incident, but ultimately decide against lying.

“On your birthday.” you admit, sheepishly. “There was a lot of traffic and I was running late.” you trail off, suddenly awkward. But then he laughs, big and loud, throwing his head back.

“That’s so cool! I want to be a werewolf. How do I get a werewolf to attack me?" he smiles wide. And you roll your eyes, shake your head in pseudo disappointment. “Stand in the middle of a forest under a full moon with a raw steak tied to your face, holding a sign that says, 'Eat me; I'm stupid'?”

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[ H y u n j i n ] finds out you’re a [ M e r m a i d ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ P r a c t i c e d ]

^ he’s very empathetic with a lively imagination and a friendly disposition. He has a boundless capacity for empathy even with those who he barely sees eye to eye with. This is great for you because, even if he is initially angry that you kept such a secret from him, he’ll still empathize with your situation, your story.

^ he’s more emotional than your average guy. He is intune and prone to the infectious emotion of those around him. If he see tears, he will likely cry. If he can sense hurt in your voice, it will sadden him also. 

^ he will love you unconditionally no matter what or who you are.  ^ he’s selfless and generous. No matter how big the secret, how hurt he is from your omission, he will always be there when you need someone. Because he is so practiced in the idea that he can’t live without you, he will always show up when you need him.

^ that being said, because of his idealistic nature, you can often find him walking alone. He can be overly trusting and it often leaves him feeling betrayed, hurt and vulnerable. He might view your lack of openness, truthfulness, as a betrayal within your relationship. And that might make conversation with him, for a while, very stilted. He’ll seem impassive at first, but he will eventually warm back up to you.

^ he’s not one to give up easily. He puts in the work to get what he wants in life and he won’t let it slide away without a fight. He won’t let you go over something like this, not after he’s just got you.

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There, with bare feet and drenched hair, you were crouched like a child. Upon hearing him approach, you looked up, peered into his dark, hesitant eyes. You wore only an enormous men’s sweater, his sweater—with no extravagant pattern or color, the sweater was a dull beige. Your knees were pulled up inside of it, thin pale ankles peeking out from underneath. The wool sweater alone was dry, as the rest of your head, hands, and feet were as wet as if you’d just been pulled from drowning. Tiny rivers flowed off your hair and pooled on the wool sweater, leaving it dark in splotches. Water droplets glistened on your skin, not running off, as though they couldn’t quite bear to leave you. His eyes held yours in a way his hands did not. His empathetic gaze schooled, his expression practiced, controlled.

“So...a mermaid?” you twist your head the other direction, his voice breaking your concentration momentarily. At this he took a sudden step forward, as if compelled. He had caught a glimpse of pink gills under your chin, his busy eyes dancing along your neck with a new found curiosity. You became overwhelmingly self conscious, tucking your chin, keeping your neck hidden from his view. It had always taken your gills longer to disappear than your tail. 

“My mother told me stories of mermaids. She said they sometimes sing to humans to lure them underwater.” his voice trailed off, momentarily. “But you have a horrible voice.” your gaze snaps up, catching the mischievous look in his eye, his grin.

His teasing catches you off guard, you fumble with your words, “Yeah, well...I've been practicing. Want to hear?” you glare at him, halfheartedly.

He lets out a soft laugh, “I'm always happy when I'm surrounded by water, I think I'm a Mermaid too...or at least, I was a mermaid in a past life.” he crouches down, he’s much closer to you now.

“Are you in pain?” you choke out, the idea of him hurting, in any way, unbearable to you. You don’t know why you asked that, he’s obviously just joking—keeping a steady conversation with you, trying to keep you calm.

“Pain? Why would I be in—” he trails off, eyes snapping in your direction. “Wait, are you in pain?” the absolute, genuine concern in his voice has you pulling up short. Your breathing shallow.

“Mermaids hurt when we’re in human form.” you admit, quietly, eyes glued to the rocks on the horizon.

“But...but you never look like you’re in pain, you’re always smiling, always so...graceful—” he cuts himself off abruptly, eyes narrowed. It’s as if he’s angry at himself for not catching on to your discomfort much sooner. “What does it feel like?”

“When your tail divides and shrinks until it becomes legs, it’s very painful. It feels as if a sharp sword is slashing through you. Everyone who sees a mermaid on legs will say that they are the most graceful human being they’ve ever laid eyes on—” you remember, vividly, all the times you were complemented for your gliding movement; not even a seasoned dancer is able to tread as lightly as you. “But every step you take feels as if you are treading upon knife blades so sharp that blood must flow.”

There is silence, the ocean waves brushing against the sand, caressing the shore—it’s the only noise you hear for a moment. 

“Then shall I take you home and put you in the bathtub?” his unsystematic question is enough to pull you out of your thoughts completely, his brand of humor easily calming you in your panicked state. You’re suddenly very thankful.

“How do you always know just what to say?" you ask, a smile on your lips. His laugh rumbles through you as he puts his arm around your damp shoulders. "Practice, I guess."

You pull back and give him a quizzical look.

"I spent three years imagining what I would say to you if you were mine," he says, tugging you closer. “I should hope I know what to say now that I've finally got you.” ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ J i s u n g ] finds out you’re a [ D e m o n ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ B e w i l d e r e d ]

^ he’s very intelligent and he’s always ready to expand his knowledge reserves. He usually has a systematic approach to life, he always ensures that he doesn’t miss any loophole behind. So when he finds out about you being a demon, he’s both bewildered and inquisitive.

^ he’s usually very calm and collected on the surface. But underneath he has a great intensity that demands he bring order to his world. He struggles with the need to rearrange his frantic interior beneath the calm exterior until everything is perfect. This might make him seem more freaked out, frightened, than he actually is.

^ he is highly patient with you and always tries to find the good in everything around him. So in reality, even though he initially seems frazzled at your confession, he will actually give you enough time to fix up your act—explain yourself—when need be.

^ he can, at times, be very judgmental. He tends to appraise and judge people based on one particular viewpoint in that person’s life—especially if he doesn’t know that person well enough. That being said, your relationship is solid enough to outlast his initial judgment.

^ he can also be very fussy, as sometimes he gets lost in the details. His strong likes and dislikes make him quite finicky at first. And he’ll definitely feel some type of way that you kept him in the dark for so long.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ All the demons of Hell formerly reigned as gods in previous cultures. No it's not fair, but one man's god is another man's devil. As each subsequent civilization became a dominant power, among its first acts was to depose and demonize whoever the previous culture had worshipped. The Jews attacked Belial, the god of the Babylonians. The Christians banished Pan and Loki, the respective deities of the ancient Greeks and Celts. The Anglican British banned belief in the Australian aboriginal spirits known as the Mimi. Satan is depicted with cloven hooves because Pan had them, and he carries a pitchfork based on the trident carried by Neptune. As each deity was deposed, it was relegated to Hell. For gods so long accustomed to receiving tribute and loving attention, of course this status shift put them into a foul mood.

And when Hell, itself, was in a foul mood, demons—specifically the ones planted here on earth—got the brunt of it. So to say you were in a bad mood would be an understatement. In hindsight, it might not have been the best decision on your part to agree to speak with Jisung about your origins in that moment.

“It’s not fair.” his voice wavers, the emotional confrontation taking a toll on him.

“What, that I’m a demon or that you managed to date me?” you bit out, tersely. “Don’t.” his voice was abruptly dark. 

“No, you’re right, it’s not fair—but what makes earth feel like Hell is your expectation that it should feel like Heaven. Earth is earth. Dead is dead. Good is rarely good and bad is always bad. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. It won’t help the situation for you to get all upset.” you snap back at him, voice just as dark.

‘‘What’s that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me now?” his eyes narrow.

“How miserably hypocritical,” you respond with a growl. “You think it’s such a burden for you to be tricked into dating the devils servant? What about the burden of me being me?” your voice is much lower now, your practically spitting venom in his direction. “No sooner am I offered a chance to flee Hell than I yearn to stay.”

“I didn’t want this.” his dark eyes, his bewildered gaze reflecting a huge amount of regret.

“Few families hold their relations as closely as do prisons. Few marriages sustain the high level of passion that exists between criminals and those who seek to bring them to justice. It’s no wonder the Zodiac Killer flirted so relentlessly with the police. Or that Jack the Ripper courted and baited detectives with his—or her—coy letters. We all wish to be pursued. We all long to be desired. That’s what I did, I pursued you, I desired you. Anything beyond that is your fault.” you turn, ready to flee out the door, the overwhelming urge to hurt something, someone, frightening you.

“My fault!? Is it my fault that I want you? That I want that feeling of standing with you against all odds and succeeding? That I want it so bad, I’d risk destroying everything I’ve worked for?” he spits at your back, crossing the room in a long stride to block your path to the door. “Is that my fault? I should walk away. But all I want to do is follow you, out that door, down the street, all the way back to hell.” his fists are clenched, his face red, you’ve never seen him so frustrated—with you or himself. “What the hell am I doing, falling in love with a demon?”  His sudden confession almost knocks you from your feet. Anger and confusion painting his face.

“You love me?” you whisper in a fit of shock.

“Yes.” he whispers right back, voice matching yours, as if his own confession shocked him as well.

“Enough to follow me all the way to hell?” you’re baffled.

“Well, according to Google, 98.3 percent of lawyers end up in Hell. That's in contrast to the 23 percent of farmers who are eternally damned. Some 45 percent of retail business owners are Hellbound, and 85 percent of computer software writers.” he hums to himself, pausing in thought. “Perhaps a trace number of musicians ascend to Heaven, but statistically speaking, 100 percent of them are cast into the fiery pit. As are essentially 100 percent of journalists and redheads.” he finishes with a satisfied nod. “Readheads?” you cock your eyebrow, completely thrown by the turn of conversation.

“What? I told you! I googled it.” he smiles, oddly proud of himself.

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[ F e l i x ] finds out you’re a [ V a m p i r e ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ P l a y f u l ]

^ like Jisung, he’s appears very calm and collected on the surface; he will struggle with his external facade and his internal need demanding order. This might make him seem very impassive in the moment, as he tends to shut down when confronted with mixed and conflicting emotions.

^ he has an analytical mind that can see things in black and white. He is capable of finding solutions to tough problems, always. He has a keen attention to detail, and likes to absorb everything before making a decision. So he will probably, like Chan, be very quiet and expressionless during your confession.

^ he has a very clever mind. And he will go through all possible elements of thinking before making any decision—so you won’t have to worry about fear, disgust or uncertainty driving him to make an impulsive decision about your relationship.

^ he’s very honest with you, he will always tell you exactly how he feel about you—to your face. He doesn’t like to sugar coat his words. For him, honesty is the best policy, even if the truth hurts. So when he does settle his mind, his inner conflict, enough to respond to you articulately—you might experience some unintentional savagery, but it most definitely will not last for long.

^ he’s pretty old school, a bit conservative and old fashioned. He’s not really into modern changes and prefers things in their old traditional ways. This is beneficial to you, in the given situation, because you are much much older than you seem. Your aura brings that old fashioned feel, and he will still appreciate that—even after realizing why.

^ once he wraps his head around the concept, around the idea of you being a vampire and living off of blood, he’ll be extremely playful. He’ll love to tease you, and honestly, he’s the type to be into a little blood play.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yeah, I get it, you're a vampire," he said. "Creepy. And okay, a little hot, I admit." 

"You don't mean that." you gape in his direction.  "Come on. I still like you, you know, even if you... crave plasma." You blink once, twice, and it’s as if you’ve never seen him before. “You what?"

"Like. You." Felix enunciated slowly, as if you might not know the words. "Idiot. I always have. What, you didn't know? We’re literally dating." he sounded cool and grown-up about it, but you saw the hectic color in his cheeks, under the moonlight.

"How clueless are you? Does it come with the fangs?" he sniffs, eyes darting around him, never really settling on you.

"I guess I...I just thought.... I don’t know. I just didn't think...You're kind of intimidating, you know." you finally admit. "I'm intimidating? Me? You’re the vampire here!” he spluttered out. "You're the one who's intimidating. I mean, come on. All that power, and you look... Well, you know how you look." 

"How do I look?" you were fascinated now, you moved a little closer to him on the couch. He laughed nervously. "Oh come on. You're a total model-babe." 

"You're kidding." you deadpan, completely caught off guard.

"You don't think you are?" he shot back at you, side eyeing your expression. You shook you head."Then you're kind of an idiot. Smart, but an idiot." he crossed his arms, momentarily lost in though. “So? What exactly do you think about me, except that I’m intimidating?” he questioned after a moment of silence.

“I think you’re…you’re…ah, interesting?” your the one tripping over your words now. If you were capable of blushing, you’d be beet red. “I think you’re kind of beautiful...for a human. And really, really strange.” You look away, keeping your eyes on the opposite wall.

“Beautiful? But I’m a boy.” he whines.

“Boys can be beautiful too, it’s not subjective to one gender. Besides, beauty is a state of being—it’s inside—not just physical attractiveness.” you reprimand him for his narrow mindedness.

He smiled and looked down, the color in his face deepened. “Thanks for that,” he murmured, “I thought you only considered me to be bratty.”

“Well, to be fair, you are bratty.” you smile, peeking at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Hey!” he gasps, affronted.

“What? You can be bratty and beautiful,” you shot back, repeating yourself once more. “I think it’s interesting.”  There was a beat of silence, “So, your not scared of me? You don’t hate me?” you whispered into the dark room. Before he could even open his mouth to reply, you continue, “I��have been stabbed, shot, burned, bitten, beaten unconscious too many times to count, and even staked. None of those would hold a candle to the pain I’d feel if you hated me, if you were scared.”

His dark eyes find you in the light of the moon, his hand reaching out to intertwine with your. He opens his mouth, closes it and opens it once more—as if trying to articulate his feelings properly, as if trying to find the words. “That's pretty hot," his deep voice carries in the otherwise quiet room.

"What? Me being staked?" you admonished, unprepared for the turn of conversation.

"Well, no. Of course not. I meant the idea of getting rough with you is hot. I'm a big fan of full-contact sports." he wiggled his eyebrows in your direction, his voice playful, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Throwing your head back, you squeezed his hand, “I'm sure you are.” ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ J e o n g i n ] finds out you’re a [ N y m p h ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ D e l i g h t e d ]

^ he’s incredibly open-minded and tends to think and do things differently than others. He thinks for himself and likes to keep an open mind about all things. He’s not the type to judge a book by its cover. So you won’t need to worry about any judgment being thrown your way.

^ he’s a true free spirit, meaning any attempts to keep him from being who he really is will make him turn away. This is great, because he has learned to treat others as he wishes to be treated; he won’t ask you to suppress who you are, or change in any way, for the fear that you might do the same to him.

^ he’ll most likely need some space and freedom to work through his thoughts on your unusual upbringing. However, he will be very vocal about exactly why he needs space, as to avoid any miscommunication. He would never up and leave you for being open and honest with him and he wouldn’t want you to think otherwise.

^ like Jisung, he is also quite the intellectual. He can amaze anyone with his original ideas; this is great because, right off the bat, he will be so overwhelmed with curiosity, overflowing with questions, he won’t have the time to be upset with you.

^ sure, he’s a bit of an intellectual rebel and he will loudly defend his opinions, but he’s also willing and open to learning. Ultimately, telling him you’re a forest nymph will be like telling him you had grapefruit for breakfast. He has a great power to form and understand abstract concepts and conform and adapt to new information like he’s known it his whole life—like it’s no big deal.

^ he’ll be delighted with your honesty, insanely curious and extremely playful.

^ he’s also very stubborn at times. It is often hard to change his mind about something once it is set for. But you’re close enough to actually succeed in this area, an area which others have failed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You wake up sudden—a chill crawling down your spine—in a puddle of cool sunlight. Your hands asleep beside you, your hair draped on the lawn like a mantle of cloth. Frost grows on the window glass, forming whirlpool patterns of lovely translucent geometry, and you stare up, momentarily forgetting where you are. Sitting up slowly, you lean forward and breath on the glass, giving the frost more ammunition. Now the winter nymphs can build castles and cities and whole ice continents with your breath’s vapor. In a few blinks you can almost see them moving in, ready to do their seasonal damage to your lovely forest, to your home.  That’s when you hear it, a shift in the cool grass. And suddenly he’s right there, crouched down beside you. He rocks forward, and hisses in an attempt to scare you out of your thoughts. But you knew he was there the entire time, you could sense his presence. He could never truly sneak up on you in the forest, not with the many trees and plants and animals—the many eyes and ears.

You turn to him, with a bored expression, “Really? That’s all you got?”

You stretch your wings, hear their crackle, as a show of complete content.

“Not fair! How did you know? I was really quiet this time!” he pouts, whining about how unfair it is. “Also, why are you out here? It’s kind of cold.” he finally sits down, pulling his knees up to his chest.

You shrug your shoulders, resisting the urge to smile. There’s a pause, a beat of silence, where you both gaze up at the outer side of the house; the windows covered in frost catching your attention, yet again. And then you feel his gaze on you.

“It’s nice.” he whispers and you turn your head to face him, confused.

“That you exist.” he smiles at you and you feel your heart drop.

“I think humans don’t want merely to see beauty...we want something else which can hardly be put into words—” he cuts himself off, momentarily, watching your face carefully. “We want to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to become part of it. I think that’s why we have peopled air and earth and water with gods and goddesses, and nymphs and elves.” he trails off again, and you’re left speechless. His dark eyes catching on the curves and lines of your face.  And then the moment is broken, he looks away, back up at the frost bitten windowsill. But your heart still thumps in your throat. “And this is nice," he begins with a sigh. "Like...one of those paintings where a nymph or Athena is drawing the gods and goddesses." your eyes follow his gaze back up to the windowsill, you see that he’s referring to the intricate designs hidden within the frost. Winter nymphs have a tendency to hide such patterns, such art, in their work.

You hum in agreement. “And here I was thinking you were an utterly uneducated human," you said teasingly.

"I am a student," he responded with hauteur. "I am classically educated.”

"Plus, nymphs are pretty," he adds, in after thought.

You laugh. "I could stare at them all day," he continued. His tone was carefully neutral, but his eyes never left yours. And you found you couldn’t look back, and not blush. He reached over, delicately pulling you into his side—it was only then that you realized how closely he held you, and how the gentle incline of the hill brought you almost eye to eye with him.

One side of his mouth twitched. "Your cheeks are like cherries." he chortled, delighted.

You tucked your chin into the wool of his coat. "It's cold," you said, defensively. He shook his head. "I am not complaining. I think they're rather charming. They make you look like a winter nymph.”

“I find that really offensive.” you grumble in response, the forest nymph and fairy blood in you disliking the comparison all together. He laughs, warmly, and pulls you even closer. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[ S e u n g m i n ] finds out you’re a [ W i t c h ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ R e l u c t a n t ]

^ he’s highly reliable, it’s in his blood to keep up with commitments. People often completely rely on him to complete complicated tasks with efficiency and perfection as he is naturally very rational. It’s that rational side of his mind that will force him to listen to your explanation to the end.

^ he would never, consciously, let you down; he consistently gives his best to meet your expectations. He’s the first to answer your call and the last to leave a situation when you’re in need. This will be beneficial to you as he will be compelled to stop, listen and hear you out.

^ like Felix, he is extremely analytical. He will think everything through—weighing the options, good and bad—before making a decision about your relationship.

^ at first he’ll be quite reluctant, hesitant and unwilling to budge in his prejudice. It’s something he can’t help, growing up believing witches are evil, dark, dangerous and manipulative. But deep down he knows you, and this will be all he needs to encourage understanding and acceptance.

^ he’s a problem solver. He likes to tackle problems of close ones and the people around him. At first it might seem like he’s trying to control the situation, but you will soon realize that he is only analyzing your situation to find ways of helping you improve your life.

^ he can be critical at times, overly demanding. It’s because he already has a clear picture in his mind about how things should be done. But he’s also open to change, and once he comes to terms with your witchy ways, he will become the most supportive boyfriend you could ask for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “So tell me about it,” he interjected, pulling you away from your inner dialogue. 

“What?” you look up from your study table, eyes meeting his across the room.

���Are you a good witch or a bad witch? Do you practice Black Magic? Have you ever put me under a spell?” his face is blank, expressionless, but his voice gives away his anger and confusion.

“There is no such thing as White Magic or Black Magic.” you turn you head away from him, unable to accept him being so cold and cruel to you. “If you are participating in magic, you are interfering with the natural order of how life would have developed without your hand in it. You are manipulating reality to suit your own personal needs. Regardless of whether you perceive it as "positive" or "white light", you are manipulating life. And just like life, it’s not black and white, all good or all bad.” you trail off, your stomach in knots. It’s best to be truthful, you know this, but it hurts you to think that something like this could damage you relationship. Or worse, end it. You feel the telltale signs of tears forming in your eyes, the heat almost unbearable.

“And no, I’ve never—I would never use it on you.” there is a brief silence and despite him approaching you, stepping much closer, you resolutely keep your eyes lowered. 

“Can you tell me about them?” his voice was much softer now, much too close. You look up into his eyes and realize he’s referring to the plants on your bed side table. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, slowly stand up from the chair and turn towards your bed.

“These are tropical palms. They bring strong solar energy into your home that break up stale energy, and keep your home safe from nasty spiritual entities.” you trail off, carefully watching his expression. “This right here is African violet, and it’s associated with love and magic. But I use it because it’s vibrant purple flowers pull lunar energy into your home. Lunar energy is most important to those in my coven.” you whisper, the vivid memory of your grandmother and aunt surrounding themselves, filling their homes, with African violets almost brings tears to your eyes. “Aloe is associated with the water element because the gel inside the leaves. They’re cooling and healing.” you continue on, pulling yourself out of your reminiscing. 

Finally you turn to the last plant, your moms personal favorite. “The clusters of star shaped flowers that grow on the long tendrils of the hoya, also called a wax plant, produce truly intoxicating nectar whose aroma fills the whole house. It also bestows blessings on anyone who smells it.”  You wait for him to say something, still avoiding his unnerving stare, unsure you want to even see his reaction.

“This stuff? These plants? They really mean a lot to you, don’t they?” his voice is barely there, a whisper, but his words still have the same affect. You blink, once, twice, and the tears you were so set on holding back, fall.

Suddenly he’s there, pulling you closer to him, guiding your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. His warm embrace is enough to comfort you by itself but he still whispers to you, “It’s okay, it’ll be okay. I’m not mad. I won’t leave you. It’s okay.”  And, for once, you truly believe it.

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[ M i n h o ] finds out you’re a [ S h a p e s h i f t e r ]

His initial reaction:                                                       [ E n t h r a l l e d ]

^ he’s focused and competitive. When he wants something he just goes for it. Also, when he sets his sight on something (you) he allows very few things to get in his way and does anything to achieve his goal (to be with you.) This focus, this competitive nature, will keep him present and attentive during your confession. 

^ he’s also extremely brave and daring. He isn’t afraid of challenges in life, so what appears to be a crazy risk to more conservative people is just a normal day for the brave-hearted Minho. Because of this, he won’t be afraid. When you tell him, show him, what you really are—he’ll be more enthralled than fearful or confused.

^ one of the great things about Minho is his loyalty to you. He values trust and honesty making him a fiercely loyal boyfriend, and he expects you to be the same way. That being said, he most likely will be upset that you felt the need to keep such a secret. But he will quickly get over it, dismiss those feelings, once he realizes just how honest you’re being with him in the present. ^ he respects you and treats you with amazing loyalty, generosity and kindness. Him finding out you’re a shapeshifter definitely will not change that.

^ however, it most likely will take him a hot second to be content within your relationship dynamic again, as a part of him perceived your lack of truthfulness as disloyalty. There's a pretty good chance that your actions will cause some big-time resentment to him, at least for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “It’s okay, I mean if you want to, if you need to—” he trails off, his eyes sympathetic. “I’m okay with it.” 

You look at him ready to cry again. Not out of pain. Not out of need. But because his words rub that part of your soul that suffers, that wants to be explored like a virgin land that has remained intact for centuries and craves to be occupied, appreciated and transformed. So you let yourself go.

You groan as your limbs lessen into shorter proportions and your neck stretches. Auburn-coloured fur emerged upon your fevered skin, and the sounds of your bones cracking, shifting in an echo around the cold mountain side. Your snout elongates and your teeth sharpen.

You were panting and, with one last shudder, your body slides from human to fox in a crack. Minho stood there, face drawn up in a twisted expression full of empathetic pain, watching the frost dissipate on your hot tongue, sending tiny rivulets of steam into the air. In this form, the world was sharp and clear, he was sharp and clear. You never realized how many different colors of shadow there were, how the angles of his face cast such an array of shade. It made you savor the dark beauty of the cold evening even more.

Minutes passed by—him staring at you, and you staring at him—both of you almost caught in a trance. When a little blue butterfly fluttered up to you, and landed on your snout. You blinked at it and it fluttered to your ear; it was winter, cold and lifeless on the mountain side, why were there suddenly butterflies? A big yellow butterfly gently floats over and lands on your paw, and as if reading your mind, Minho cocks his head to the right, “Well, that’s different.” 

Soon a whole swarm of them float up and down around you, like a swirl of multicolored petals. It happened once before, in your backyard, when you shifted on a late afternoon.

Your magic must be strong enough, in that moment, to attract them—despite the weather and location. Butterflies were small and light, and very magic sensitive. For some reason you made them feel safe and they gravitated to you like iron shavings to a magnet. Minho let out a quiet giggle as a bigger butterfly landed on your forehead and you shook it off, affronted. Resisting the urge to fight the assault, you took a step back. They ruined your ferocious badass image, but you’d have to be a complete beast to swat butterflies.

Now if a baby deer frolicked out from between the mountains and tried to cuddle up, you would yip. You wouldn’t bite it, but you would most definitely yip, maybe even growl. You had your limits. Minho slowly approached you and reached out, his fingers hesitant. You tilted your head down, letting him touch your ears. His hand trembled slightly as he caressed the fluffy protrusion. You knew they were warmer than he thought they’d be, a living extension of the human inside. He petted your pelt next, charmed by the coarse fur and the feel of your muscles bunching and moving underneath. Finishing off with your tale, he ran his fingers through it, slowly, thoroughly.

Sitting back, he winked down at you. "You probably get this a lot, but…I like your backside.” he laughed at your annoyed yip. “What? It’s so fluffy.” You stretch back into human form, the change much easier in reverse, and look up at him from the ground. “Always gotta be the smartass, don’t you?” you roll your eyes, with a smile.

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To the beautiful anon who requested a supernatural s/o reaction [Stray Kids,] I hope you like it!!! 😅😅 It was superrrr fun to do, so thank you for the request, loveee! 🥰

[fridasfantasy]

The Girl in the City

A/N: First one-shot, imagine thingy. And it is Avatar: The Last Airbender. No one saw this coming, especially not me. I went through the tag the other day and saw someone say that there’s a desperate need for more Sokka x Reader fanfic. And I agree. So, here is my contribution. I hope you enjoy! <3 

Word Count: 2198

Pairing: Sokka x F!Reader

Summary: During their stay in Ba Sing Se, the Gaang luckily meet their neighbour – a brave and outspoken teenage girl. From the very first day, she tries to help them with information she knows as a member of the Upper Ring society. Sokka just happens to stumble into her one day while in the city and enjoys getting to know her. Very much.

~o~o~ 

Something is rotten in the city of Ba Sing Se. After a whole day spent walking around the city and trying to get any kind of information about Appa, all they managed to get was a sinking feeling in their stomachs. Sokka had a hunch that it had something to do with that Joo Dee woman and her strained smile. How was it possible that no one would talk to them about the war?

As soon as Joo Dee’s carriage pulled away, Sokka noticed two faces watching them through the window from the house across the street. When he locked eyes with one of the curious culprits, they both slickly hid away.

“Hey, come with me,” he said to his friends.

They made their way to the house and knocked. A grey-haired man hastily opened the door and greeted them with a wide smile.

“You’re the Avatar. I heard you were in town. I’m Pong,” the man said.

Those words were followed with quick footsteps, as the teenage girl who Sokka caught peeping through the window made her way back to the door and joined her father at his side.

“So it’s really true,” she added and bowed, hitting her father lightly and urging him to do the same. “I’m Y/N. We’re honoured to have you here.”

“Oh, there’s really no need for… That,” Aang said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “It’s nice to meet you, though.”

Y/N sent them all a confident smile when Sokka quickly interrupted the pleasantries, despite being temporarily distracted by her beaming eyes.

“So, Pong, Y/N. what’s going on with this city? Why is everyone so scared to talk about the war?”

“War, scared? What do you mean?” Pong replied nervously, while Y/N stiffened next to him.

“I can feel you shaking,” Toph said to him.

“Look, I’m just a minor government official. I’ve waited three years to get this house. I don’t want to get into trouble.”

“Get in trouble with who?” Katara asked.

“Shh, listen, you can’t mention the war here. And whatever you do, stay away from the Dai Li,” Pong said and slammed the door shut. Sokka saw Y/N flinch and shoot her father a reproachful look.

As they turned back to go to their house, he could hear their muffled voices behind the door and noted how Y/N’s quickly overpowered her father’s.

After dinner, the group’s chilled evening was interrupted by an unexpected knock on their door. Katara went and answered it, only to find Y/N standing there with a nervous smile and a tray of baked goods.

“Hi, again,” she greeted. “I’m sorry to barge in, but my mom and I thought you might enjoy some dessert after dinner. She’s a baker in the city and brought these traditional cakes home from work, I’m sure you’ll enjoy them. The recipe is one of Ba Sing Se’s greatest secrets,” she shot Katara a meaningful look.

Katara looked at the tray and saw a piece of parchment poking out from under the cookies. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she seemed to understand the girl. Thanking Y/N, she took the tray and called for her friends so they could find out what this secret recipe was all about.

~o~

Y/N’s note helped them understand that the Earth King won’t be the one to help them. It is silently understood in her father’s work circle that all the orders they have to deal with don’t come from the Earth King, but they do not know for sure who the string-master in this play is. This lead the group of friends to work out a plan to go to the King’s party, where they made the unfortunate acquaintance of the grand secretary Long Feng.

A few days passed with no sign of Appa or any hope of an uprising against the Fire Nation. Sokka found himself one evening walking along the streets of Ba Sing Se, when he suddenly heard a somewhat familiar voice.

“Through all the long night. Winter moon glows with bright love. Sleet, her silver tears,” the voice read in a lyrical tone.

“What is this?” Sokka asked himself once he detected the window from which the voice was coming from.

There he saw Y/N standing on a small stage, reading to a room full of girls their age and a middle-aged tutor. He noticed how calm and collected she looked in comparison to the other times he saw her nervously fidgeting. She was wearing a fancy kimono, one of the fanciest he saw in Ba Sing Se, actually. And the lights were highlighting her soft features and his face took on a dreamy expression as he watched and listened to her voice.

“Ah… Poetry,” he sighed.

Before he could realize what was going through his mind, he felt a kick on his behind and ended up painfully hanging from the window, for everyone to see.

“I am so sorry,” he blushed. “Something struck me in the rear. I just… Wound up… Here?”

He heard slow laughs around the room, the loudest one coming from his right. Only then, he noticed he was already on the stage, just a few feet away from Y/N. He sent a glance her way, accompanied by a smug smirk on his face.

“Hi,” she mouthed and gave him a small wave.

Who knew that soon after that whole scene one of the most important battles of his life would take place. It was only him and the teacher, going back in forth in a haiku battle while the girls in the audience, including Y/N, laughed at Sokka’s antics, much to the teacher’s displeasure. But then, Sokka did the unspeakable and miscounted his syllables. Y/N almost felt sorry for the guy, letting out a hiss as she knew what was about to happen. She gave him a small shrug as he looked at her for help before the guard basically sent him flying out.

The last thing Y/N expected was to see Sokka outside after the lesson, casually leaning against a building. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and made her way to him.

“Um, waiting for someone?” she asked him.

“Yeah, actually,” he said as he straightened up. “You.”

Y/N looked even more confused than before.

“I figured I could sit and wait for you, so neither of us has to walk alone,” he explained, still rather surprised at himself for actually deciding to wait for this girl.

“Oh, well, that’s very kind of you. Thank you, -” she paused. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name back there.”

“Sokka,” he said and smiled awkwardly, realizing how weird it must have been for her to have almost a complete stranger wanting to walk her home. However, she still seemed confident despite the weird situation.

“Want to get going then? I kind of need to be back home soon,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go,” he started walking straight down the street.

“Sokka, it’s actually this way,” Y/N called after him, pointing to the opposite direction.

“Oh, right. I just went to check out those… Cabbages,” he said, trailing off.

“What do you have in that weirdly shaped bag?” she asked him suddenly once they started walking.

“This old thing holds my trusty boomerang,” he answered enthusiastically.

“Your boomerang?”

“Yup. My father gave it to me a long time ago and ever since then it has been my weapon of choice.”

“Well, interesting choice,” she bit her lip to hide her smile.

“Hey! What have you got against my boomerang?”

“Nothing! I just got to say, I’ve never met anyone who’s chosen a boomerang for their weapon of choice. I actually don’t think I’ve ever met someone who even owns a boomerang.”

“Then all those people are missing out. What do you even know about boomerangs? Or weapons for that matter?”

“Excuse me?” she scoffed. “I actually know my fair share about weaponry, thank you very much.”

“Oh, is that so?” he teased her.

“Yes,” she answered with determination. “I’m in a rush to get home because I have class with my sword master. And my weapon of choice just happens to be a ninjato sword, if you happen to wonder.”

Sokka’s mouth was wide open, showing how he truly didn’t expect that answer.

“How come you’re walking around unarmed then?” he asked her.

Y/N stopped where she stood, deciding to just look down at her outfit and letting the boy figure it out by himself. It took him a minute, but-

“Right, poetry-haiku-thingy you were just at. Dress. Make up. All that,” he mumbled uncomfortably

They continued their walk down the streets of Ba Sing Se’s Upper Ring while making small talk. Finally reaching their street, Y/N suddenly turned to Sokka.

“Say, Sokka, would you like to join me in my sword fighting lesson?”

“What?” he asked with wide eyes.

“You heard me. Come on. Join me today. It would be nice to train with someone new, more challenging. Besides, I’d love to see how you fight with that thing,” she nodded towards his boomerang.

His face still showed a stunned expression and he looked at the girl in front him. She shuffled a bit, fixing her expensive-looking kimono that began to feel uncomfortable. There was no need for him to be shocked by any of this. The girl did risk her and her family’s position the other day by giving him and his friends a snippet of information the Dai Li and Long Feng would rather have concealed. And after the Kyoshi Warriors, meeting a brave and armed girl such as Y/N should not have surprised him.

“I would appreciate it if you would stop staring at me like that and try giving me an answer instead,” Y/N said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Okay. I’ll train with you.”

He enjoyed just watching her lesson and marvelled at how agile she was with the ninjato sword. He never saw anyone wield that weapon back home. Her master was very gifted, but it soon became evident that the student had surpassed the teacher some time ago. Sokka got to show off his boomerang; to the master, to Pong, and to Y/N as well. She even admitted that the weapon had more to offer than she had initially thought. And after a small misaim that nearly cut half of the girl’s hair off, Sokka put it neatly away in his bag, smiling innocently.

Now, she was standing in front of him, both of them unarmed. They were ready for a sparring match to finish her lesson off. She was the first to attack, which he kind of expected at this point. He began figuring this girl out. Or so he thought. She may have started the fight but her blows were noticeably weaker than she had displayed just moment ago during the training session. He easily blocked her and soon began to strike back. She wasn’t tired, he could tell that by how fast she was able to react. So what was she playing at? Soon enough, he found himself desperately trying to be quicker than her but somehow couldn’t even match her pace. All it took was just one sloppy and tired hit for Y/N to grab his arm and twist him into a yielding position.

“Yeah, it figures,” he mumbled. She pulled the age old trick of tiring him out at the very beginning and took advantage of a single moment of weakness. She knew he would overcompensate.

She loosened her grip on his arm but left her hand linger on his upper arm as he turned around.

“This was great! You’re so good!” she said excitedly.

“Wha-? But, I lost,” he was once again confused.

“That doesn’t matter at all. I had so much fun,” her other hand found its way to his other upper arm. “We have to do this again another day! Please?” she sent him a hopeful look, squeezing his arms lightly as she jumped slightly in the air from excitement. He couldn’t help but smile as a fleet of butterflies made their presence known in his stomach.

What? Where did that come from?

“I-I would like that very much,” he smiled softly and she returned it, suddenly feeling shy.

 ~o~o~

A/N: A few things, if I still have your attention. If not, that’s okay too lol I am bad at action sequences. I am bad at titles. Actually, I am new to writing all together. This might be really bad and I’d appreciate if you’d let me know what you think. Also, anyone interested in a second part?  This is a F!Reader imagine, I will try to make my other ones more inclusive, universal so to say. I just really wanted to post this to get myself motivated.

Okaaay, I’m done now. Have a nice day/evening/night ^_^

[alarawriting]

Inktober 2020 #21: Sleep

Based on the prompt from @writing-prompt-s, “The worst thing a wizard can do is sleep-talk.”

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

Words spoken by a person without the power thrumming through their veins were just words. Even the Words of Change, the secret language the universe was built in, meant nothing to the people without the power. But for the people who had it, words needed to be guarded carefully. “Umhaha”, for instance, unraveled thread. An easy mistake to make; almost every young wizard had a story about accidentally rendering themselves and everyone in the room with them naked, just by laughing a certain way after saying the word “Um.”

“Kefzhizoss” should have been a word that no one would ever say unless they meant to say it.

The young man was crumpled up as small as a human could make himself, on the bench in the police wagon. No one had confiscated the amulet of protection from his neck; like most such amulets, it wouldn’t come off while he was under emotional stress, pain or fear. But he was under a silencing charm, and the amulet didn’t protect him from being silenced.

The cleric was arguing with the detective on the scene. “It’s obvious he didn’t mean to do this,” he said, waving his hand at the devastation of what had been the young man’s home, with his parents and siblings. The broken remains of the wards that had contained the word, made sure the destruction spread no farther than their property, would have stopped the word if it hadn’t been spoken within their house, and there were other fragmentary charms present. One to prevent fire. One that would probably have protected books from water damage. There was one, still intact, that purified air as it went into the lungs of birds.

There were no birds in the wreckage, or bird cages. Neither were there human corpses, or any human beds, except for the one the young man had laid in. The destruction had been too thorough.

“Look, Elimiss, maybe I agree with you. Could be accidental sleeptalking. But four people are dead, and the damage was clearly done by the Devastating Word, and the only survivor’s a wizard. You see why I can’t just let him go, right?”

Tears ran down the young man’s cheeks, but there was nothing physically wrong with him. Either he was tremendously talented for one so young, or one or both of his parents had been very skilled wizards, to have created an amulet that had perfectly protected him and the bed he had been found on from the Devastating Word. It didn’t matter anymore.

“He’s traumatized! He needs a temple, not to be held indefinitely under a silencing charm—”

“Oh, for the love of all your gods, the kid can still read and write. But I can’t let a man who killed his entire family just traipse off to a temple to have his trauma healed. Did it occur to you that maybe a guy who killed his parents and brother and sister maybe deserves to have some trauma?”

“It was obviously an accident! He was wearing pajama pants, for the love of Merenethe Who Heals All Wounds!  What kind of devious, evil killer wears pajama pants and lays down in bed before blasting his entire home to ruin?”

“The kind who knows that people like you will assume it was an accident from that,” the detective said sharply. She was irritated that the cleric had felt the need to provide his god’s entire name, like he was offended that she’d invoked all his gods instead of his specific patron. “He needs to be interrogated, and we can’t let him speak until he’s told us his story.”

The man raised a tear-streaked face, brought up his cuffed hands, and with just one of them, signed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again. Both hands, he might have been trying a sigil, though the detective was an experienced enough wizard herself to catch that before it accomplished anything, if he’d tried it. One hand, it was obviously sign, and she relaxed. Only about half of all wizards knew some kind of sign language, which was stupid given the control wizards needed to keep on their speech. Sigils were much more complicated and couldn’t be done accidentally.

“Babababawa” brought a light, misting rain… into a building, if that’s where the wizard said it. It was a hazard of raising wizard babies, that some of them came into their power so early they couldn’t really talk yet, and their baby babble could very easily accidentally land on that one. “Sh’shoot,” an expression thaumnulls might say any time if they started to say “shit”, thought better of it, and instead said “shoot” as a full word without just following from the original sh – more than one wizard teenager had been found that way, growing up among thaumnulls, not knowing what they shouldn’t say. It made existing electrical current surge in power, and could very well blow every circuit in a house, or start a fire. “Kolonel” was a big problem with people learning the language as adults, who didn’t know how to not pronounce the word “colonel”. The only thing it did was create an impenetrable darkness that flowed out to the nearest boundary, if indoors, and a mile or two outdoors, until a wizard said “Kohanoel” to turn it off and restore the light… but people who’d said it by accident and hadn’t known they were wizards didn’t know how to turn it off.

The Devastating Word, however – the detective, being a wizard, did not even think the syllables to herself – was commonly thought to be impossible to say by accident. The “zh” sound wasn’t even common in this language; most native speakers around here wouldn’t even make that sound in their sleep. And here was Elimiss, the mandated social worker who worked with the cops to de-escalate situations and help folks with mental illnesses, insisting that obviously the man – boy, really, he probably wasn’t even out of college – had said it in his sleep, because that was what the plainly traumatized boy had told the cops when they’d arrived. Because a perp couldn’t possibly carefully plan out the excuse he’d use to get treated like a trauma victim and charged only with negligent manslaughter, maybe even go free, after he’d murdered his family. Right.

“Sanavah. I know we have to get his full story from him. But do we really need to treat him as if he’s a dangerous killer?”

Detective Sanavah ofWinterfall looked over at the destroyed house, and then back at the cleric, an expression of disbelief on her face.

Cleric Elimiss Elidanson, adept of Merenethe, sighed deeply. “Yes. I know he killed his family. But if it was an accident—”

“How does anyone say that word accidentally?” Sanavah exploded. “It’s just… not a thing you’d say!”

The boy signed. “We were studying it today. The Dire Words. I’m in magic school.”

Okay, so he was out of college. Magic school, like law school and medical school, was a graduate school; you needed at least a two-year degree to get in. “Why the hell would you be studying the Dire Words?” Sanavah snapped. “How fucking irresponsible would your teachers have to be—”

“Be professional, Sanavah,” Elimiss advised, and she wanted to punch him.

“It’s advanced work. Magical theory. We have to take the Words apart to determine why they work and have so much power,” he signed. “K-E-F-Z-H-I-Z-O-S-S was fascinating, I was working on an analysis all day… but I would never say it intentionally! I was calling it the Kef word.” He signed the individual letters, but ended it with the sign that indicated he was replicating a pronunciation, not a spelling.

Oh. Well. Maybe that changed things. Maybe not; it might still be a really good story. “You know we’ll follow up with your school, right?”

He nodded. “I don’t care what you do to me,” he signed. “Any kind of punishment. I deserve it. I killed Mom and Dad and Lifah and Raoun. But I want the world to know, it was an accident! I loved them! I’d never have said the Kef word in my own house, not without containing it first!”

“This the first time you’ve sleep-talked?”

“No… Mom said I’ve been doing it since I was a baby. Raoun insisted I had to move out and get my own room when I was eight because I was keeping him up at night. My parents turned my dad’s study into my bedroom.” He picked up the amulet. “Mom gave this to me so I wouldn’t accidentally hurt myself by sleep-talking, but I guess she never thought�� I mean, I never thought…”

“I’m going to charge his teacher with negligence contributing,” Sanavah said tiredly. “Gonna charge you, too, kid. At least. I’d charge your mother, too, but she’s dead.”

The boy began to cry again, sobbing soundlessly into his hands.

“You believe me now?” Elimiss said. “I’ve had a feeling from Merenethe all this time that this boy isn’t a killer. Not intentionally.”

“That’s great. Very nice of Merenethe. I’m sure ‘a cleric of Merenethe had a feeling’ will be great evidence in court. He’s still coming down to the station.” She spoke to her forensics team. “You about ready to wrap up?”

“Yeah, pretty cut and dried. I think we’ve found all the evidence of standing charms we’re going to, and the Devastating Word would ruin any evidence of any other active spells,” Sofrani, the head forensic wizard, said. “We can head on back now if you want.”

“BTW, got a name,” the analyst, Charron, said. “Bylan Evertide.”

“That is not a real last name.”

“It absolutely is. Got it out of the city database. There’s a whole Evertide clan in and around the city here.”

“It’s going to be all right, Bylan,” Elimiss said. “The police and court, I mean. If you’re telling the truth, we’ll be able to get confirmation from an oneiromancer or a cleric of Morosma. We’ll clear you of wrongdoing.”

“Aside from the negligence and sheer stupidity of a guy who talks in his sleep learning Dire Words and then not putting a silencing charm on himself when he goes to sleep,” Sanavah said. “Elimiss, don’t make promises to the kid that you can’t make good on.”

“I know it’s my fault,” the boy signed. “Charge me with whatever you want. I won’t fight it.”

“Not how it works,” Sanavah said. “You’ll get a public defender, and if you want to plead guilty, you’ll have to convince her that you actually are before she’ll let you plead it.” She looked over at Elimiss. “You took your own pheasant over here, or did you get a taxi?”

“Taxi,” Elimiss said. “I don’t have a place to take care of a pheasant, I live in an apartment.”

“Take Elimiss back with you,” she instructed the driver of the enclosed auto-wagon. “I don’t think the chief’ll be thrilled if he expenses another taxi.”

“Will do,” the wagon driver said, and spoke a word under his breath, that made the magical engine that drove the cart fire to life. Elimiss got in the wagon, and the forensics team either got on their own pheasants, or into pheasant-drawn carriages, because no one got rich enough on a cop salary to ride around in an auto-carriage.

As she saddled up her own pheasant, who squawked in mild irritation because the beast had been enjoying plucking seed pods off the nearby mimosa tree and snacking on them, she gazed over at what had been the Evertide home. “Hell of a thing,” she murmured. “Come on, Basil, let’s get back to the station.”

Basilica, a middle-aged hen pheasant who was known for her reliability and love of sunflower seeds, snorted, flapped her wings, and took off. Running pheasants – named that because they were actually faster on the ground than in the air – had native magic that allowed their wings to work despite their enormous size, and they could easily bear a human or two through the air. A running pheasant could cross the distance back to the station fast enough, if it was through open or forested territory, but being on the ground, in traffic, mildly upset most of them and absolutely freaked Basilica out, so Sanavah had to fly back to the station every time.

[tae-cup]

.hamartia. ‘Part V,

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (f) x Taehyung (?)

Genre: Mafia!Au, Fluff, Angst (Mostly angst oopsies) I DO NOT CONDONE BEHAVIOR DISPLAYED IN THIS, PLEASE IT’S FICTION AND DON’T DO STUPID THINGS THANK YOU

Plot: Y/N is a skilled, well, torturer, though you don’t like to call yourself that; it makes what you do too real. When mafia boss Yoongi wants information or wants a hostage to suffer, you step in. However, one fateful day you are thrown Taehyung, another person who does your line of work. You need answers, he is determined not to give them to you. That’s when you try...a different approach, and Yoongi is not pleased.

Rating: TV-MA

WARNINGS: YO IF YOU’RE NOT COOL WITH SUBTLE BI AGENDAS THEN I’M SORRY THIS IS NOT THE PLACE FOR YOU, Blood, torture, mafia things (ya know?), drugs alcohol, sadistic tendencies, a fundamentally flawed main character (I’m sorry i’m just writing myself pretty much), assault, harassment, stalking (not bad), romance (somehow), Maybe stockholm syndrome???

Word Count: 3.3k words (Chonkers!)

A/N: shit’s about to go d o w n. I’m gonna be honest here...I forgot if I’ve mentioned Yoongi’s hair before-but I’m making it black and I’m sorry for continuity errors that may be caused by this...I’m just a dumbass who forgets shit. 

Other:

Masterlist

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Next 

perfidy/ˈpəːfɪdi/

~ noun: perfidy;

 plural noun: perfidies the state of being deceitful and untrustworthy.

-

-

“You know, it’s pretty selfish to think you could keep me all to yourself. I have a job.” Yoongi sat unbothered in the bedroom as you packed your things. 

The word selfish hit a different spot in your already wounded soul. After your fight, you decided to pack up and move to a room down the hall. You never officially broke it off, but it was clear you didn’t want to be around each other. Neither of you could bring yourself to say the dreadful words. You spun around, t-shirt in hand as you shoved it into your suitcase. 

“F-Fuck you.” You stuttered, anger unmanageable. That’s how you’d been for a while now, it was probably why Yoongi was getting tired of you. You’d been angry, irritable, depressed, and your emotions were out of wack. What you needed was counseling, which you would never ask for, nor would anyone care enough to force you. It was a weakness. Yoongi had similar issues to you; you didn’t understand how he kept such a calm facade. 

“If you’ve come here to berate me for the last few moments I’ll dare to be in the same fucking room as you, then fucking leave.” You cussed at him. He just looked amused. 

“You know me too well.”

“I wish I didn’t.” 

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish. Choosing your life over innocent ones was a job you tended to every single day. Every day it was your life over theirs, your blood over theirs. Hawyeong was the first of many. Her obsidian eyes haunted you at night. You were hurting Yoongi by putting your need for him above the gang. So you decided, if you were going to be selfish...I’m going all in. You flipped him off as you stormed out of the room. His eyes never strayed from your back, even once the door was closed. 

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself and ran a hand down his face. “Why did I do that?” He spoke to the open air. 

-

-

Taehyung had a very different look in his eyes when you walked in for your daily chat. Finally, we’re getting somewhere. You thought. 

“Good afternoon.” He said stiffly. Your head whipped around to face him from where you were grabbing a spare chair in the hallway. 

“W-What did you say?” You sputtered, utterly gobsmacked. He never spoke to you, much less speak first. 

“Good afternoon, is that not what you people say around here? Do you prefer screams and crying?” He didn’t look fazed as he carefully chose his words. 

“You just...” You trailed off a little. 

“You do that a lot, you know?” He sat on the edge of his bed, as always, while you sat facing him. 

“Hm?” You urged him to continue speaking. 

“You trail off like this...” He mimicked you. “It’s annoying. So many times I wish I could have asked you to continue.” 

“Why now are you telling me this?” 

His eyes glanced to the security cameras where Jimin was watching in the surveillance room. Jimin was frozen, confusion and intrigue palpable around him. Taehyung check his nails before continuing, completely ignoring your question. 

“I’ll tell you this- I do the same job you do, but I do it better.” He grinned cockily. “It’s going to take a lot more than taking away gray and waking up earlier to faze me.” 

He drifted off, eyes becoming cloudy. “But...I have enjoyed your company these days, despite our rough start and pretty one sided conversations. I almost forget how selfish you are.” He chose that word very obviously, as if showing his cards. 

You reeled back, chair falling to the ground. How did he know to use that word? You had your suspicions, but this was too clear. He chuckled darkly, though it didn’t give him a great deal of pleasure to deliver blows to your traumatizing past. He wasn’t even supposed to be talking to you. 

“How did you know?” You gaped. 

Taehyung didn’t respond. He couldn’t get you off his mind lately. Maybe it was because you and Jimin were the only people he ever interacted with; and Jimin wasn’t a smooth talker. Jimin stuttered when talking to him and showed him his intentions too easily. Taehyung enjoyed speaking with you, he could never read you. 

“Y/N.” He stood and slowly made his way over to you until he was towering above you, your back pinned against the wall. He leaned down, whispering so the audio wouldn’t pick him up. “The audio has been tapped.” He whispered hurriedly. “Listen, you need to leave before 3 A.M. come find me and I’ll help get you out of here. I don’t want to see you in pain. It’s best if you leave.” 

Your skin buzzed as you felt his breath graze your neck. You could barely register his words. When you did, you looked up into his handsome face and narrowed your eyes. 

“What game are you playing here, Taehyung.” You whispered back. 

“One where you are just another pawn. One where you never met me.” He leaned to be at eye level. “Because I mean the truth when I say I don’t wish to see you in harm’s way, just as you don’t wish that for me.” 

“You misunderstand me. I’m perfectly happy seeing you rot.” You hissed. 

“I know you don’t, kitten. Why else would you be bothered waking up so early to watch me, even when you full well know you’ve designed this room to be inescapable; both in life and death.” 

“I...” You glanced away. “If you don’t step back, I’ll scream and Jimin will come running.” 

“You think I’m worried? He has a nasty punch, but he’d never pull a gun on me.” 

Taehyung had a point. You knew Jimin wouldn’t be able to disable Taehyung, but that didn’t stop you. Your voice was high pitched and shrill. The dark haired male jumped back, eyebrows furrowing. 

“You are impossible. I’m trying to help you.” He practically yelled. 

“Why would I trust you?” 

“Trust me? Isn’t that what you’ve worked so hard to do these past few weeks? Well congratu-fucking-lations because you’ve done it.” Taehyung stared at you incredulously as if you had just spit on his face. You didn’t respond, heart beating wildly. He was so close. You could take a few steps meet lip to lip. You slightly shook your head. Stop thinking about making out with your hostage. His eyebrows quirked upward, as if reading your mind. 

The door banged open. 

“Ah, Jimin good thing you’re-” You stopped mid-sentence. “Oh.” 

Yoongi, in all his might, stood in the doorway, huffing. His chest rose and fell quickly. “Do you understand how many flights of stairs I had to run just because I heard you scream?” He said calmly, taking a moment to breathe. 

“It was only one flight you lazy ass.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at his theatrics. Taehyung didn’t seem surprised by this little squabble. 

“One flight too many.” 

“How do you think I feel having to do that every time  you decide to call me into that damn office of yours.” Your lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Can we talk about this elsewhere?” Yoongi let his gaze slide to Taehyung. “You didn’t touch her, right?” He hissed. 

Your ears perked up at the jealousy evident in his voice. 

“Of course not, pretty boy.” Taehyung stayed still, having not expected Yoongi to appear. Jimin, he could handle, but Yoongi? That man was dangerous and he knew it. 

“Why does it matter if he touched me?” You said, provoking Yoongi. 

“I told you not to get close to him.” 

“This was the most we’ve spoken in ages, Yoongi.” You snapped. “You don’t control me anymore and I’m not your property anymore either.” 

I wish you were. Yoongi thought to himself. He didn’t meet your eyes and instead looked to Taehyung. 

“Don’t come near her again you son of a b-” 

You quickly ushered him out of the room, using all your force to shove him through the door. Taehyung let out a chuckle as you locked the door behind you. You turned to Yoongi, a sour expression on your face. 

“I was finally getting somewhere. I only screamed to catch him off guard.” 

“I saw the footage. He had no right to be that close to you.” 

Yoongi cornered you between the wall and his body. His hands planted on either side of your body on the wall. He leaned in. God, how many times does this need to happen in one day? You mused to yourself, but you could feel the blood rushing to your head. 

“Would you rather it Taehyung in my position now?” His voice wreaked of possessiveness and jealousy. 

“Of course not, but why would I want you in it either?” You ducked under his arms, trying to ease tension. 

“You never broke up with me.” He called as you hurried towards your door across the way. 

“I think three months of silence is good enough.” You slipped inside and slammed the door shut. 

-

-

You were awake at 3 A.M. of course you were. Taehyung had been waking you up around then anyway. 

There was something different this morning. The sun hadn’t risen, but you decided to wander around the halls of the mansion. You had a bad feeling, which explained why you were dressed in all black. Still, the feeling wasn’t enough to make you grab that knife in your top drawer. You glanced at the door across from yours. Then you took a right to head to the surveillance room. You felt someone watching you, but you continued on anyway. It was probably a trainee or guard wandering around. The mansion had 24/7 surveillance and guards that rotated hourly. You assumed it was a changing of the guard. Then there was a strangled sound from the floor below as you walked past the stairs. You were instantly alert. 

Your hand reached for a knife that you didn’t have. Shit. You quietly walked backwards, not letting your eyes leave the stairs. It felt like the calm before the storm. You prayed your heart would stop pounding, but you were getting more anxious by the second. There were heavy footfalls followed by quieter ones. You held your breath, carefully keeping your eyes trained on the stair entrance. You glanced behind you. A few more feet and you’d be at your door. 

There was a thundering sound upstairs. Yoongi’s voice could be heard. You wanted to shout at them to stay quiet, but you heard his footsteps fade behind you upstairs. You only caught a few words from their scuffle. The words bounced around your brain. What do you mean Mark is dead? 

You almost screamed when a gun went off. Immediately, it was like the mansion was alive. There were hurried footsteps upstairs and then footsteps rushing around the stairs. Still, no one came to your floor. It felt like you were in the eye of a hurricane. That was until a hand clamped itself over your mouth. You wanted to scream, but then you heard the low timber of a familiar voice. It was a voice you shouldn’t trust, but you did relax ever so slightly. 

“Y/N, we need to leave.” His voice made you shiver. 

“Is this your gang? Are they here?” You murmured as he removed his hand. He seemed confident you wouldn’t scream. You were almost tempted to just to spite him, but you decided this was not the right time to be difficult. 

“Of course it’s my gang. They’re here to collect me and take you out, obviously.” He looked to the stairwell. “We have to get going, they’re getting closer.” 

You nodded, letting him take your hand. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Away.” He said mysteriously. 

“Very specific.” You huffed. 

“You can stop this act, you know?” The man didn’t turn to you, he just kept running ahead, turning every corner like he knew this place. 

“Act?” You stomped your heels into the ground, effectively halting him. He sighed as if he wished he had said nothing. 

“This tough girl act. All I saw was a scared girl who hurts others to avoid her own hurt.” He crossed his arms, looking at you quizzically. Before you could respond, he turned back around and gently grabbed your hand. “I know because I’m the same way.” 

You gaped, letting him drag you along. 

The plan seemed to be going great as the shouts got louder and the gunshots continued firing. Then it was quiet. Way too quiet. It was as if they had reached a stalemate. Your mouth felt dry. Or one side was wiped out. Taehyung looked to you. 

“I’m sorry about this, but you trusted the wrong person.” He shrugged, though it hurt him to see the shock cross your face. There were footsteps and then you almost heard the crack of your skull as the butt of a gun knocked you to the ground unconscious. It’s so much easier to break trust. 

-

-

You trailed Yoongi has he descended down the stairs. 

“Are you really going to make me some sort of maid?” You scoffed, eyeing the maids closet that you seemed to be headed towards. 

“I’ve got you something even better.” He grinned that gummy smile, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He opened the dusty library door that now had held files upon files stacked in every corner. God, he’s going to make me a librarian, isn’t he? You averted your eyes from the files. He seemed to read your expression. 

“I’m not going to make you file things, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Then what are we doing here, babe.” You frowned. 

“We’re here for this.” His hands ran over the creases of a bookshelf and slowly slid it open. It revealed a small passage way. It smelled of blood. 

“What is this place?” Your voice was small and you looked at Yoongi with a scared look.

“It’s where we hold the hostages.” A voice answered. Your eyes jerked up, taking in the silver haired man. He had blood on his hands, which he carefully wiped on a rag before extending a hand. “You must be Y/N. I’m Jimin and I work for you now.”

Your mouth hung open as you shook his hand. “Yoongi, what the hell is this.” 

The black haired man behind you shrugged. “You wanted a job and this was the only opening.” 

You entered the passageway tentatively. Upon seeing the first hostage, bloodied and bruised, you wanted to gag. You weren’t weak, but you weren’t violent, every knew this. You could yell and throw words around all you wanted, but you would never raise your hand against someone. 

Jimin carefully picked up a knife. He held it out to you. You hesitated, hands shaking. 

“Yoongi! I can’t do this! I can’t do this to innocent people!” You had to keep your voice from shrieking. His eyes darkened. He didn’t like seeing you this way, but you had begged him for a job and he felt obliged to give you one. He would prefer you know how to use weapons, even against innocents, rather than a helpless maid. That was his twisted logic. 

“They are far from innocent.” He said dryly, giving you a small push towards Jimin. 

“Anything but this.” You pleaded. 

“I may be your lover, darling, but I’m also the boss around here and I’m still your boss. And as your boss I order you to do this job.” His voice was stony, cold, and calculated. “Who knows, maybe you’ll come to enjoy it?” 

You looked to Jimin, pain in your eyes. He looked away. You could tell he didn’t want to be here either. 

“You wanted a job. Now do it.” Yoongi whispered threateningly. 

You shakily took the knife and walked towards the hostage. 

-

-

You opened your eyes, head pounding. You immediately noted your bound hands and legs. You were tied to a chair. Classic. Was this what your hostages felt when they woke up? The room was a concrete box, but you didn’t feel unsettled. You spent most of your time in these concrete boxes. It wasn’t something that bothered you. Maybe that was why Taehyung never seemed bothered by staying in the dark or being tied to a chair. Taehyung, that bastard. The rage and betrayal you felt was much like when you had your fight with Yoongi three months ago. It wasn’t a good feeling to be completely out of control of your emotions. 

Before you even opened your eyes, you knew he was there. That man with the dark hair and even darker eyes. The one that betrayed you so easily. 

“Y/N. I know you’re awake.” You heard him crouch in front of you. “I’m not going to hurt you, but I will let you know that it’s sort of my job.” 

You slowly opened your eyes to see him staring at you. You couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy; to have an even slightly concerned look on his face. 

“Yoongi will rip you to shreds.” You spat, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could think. Shut up. Yoongi isn’t yours anymore. He may look like he cares, but he doesn’t. Don’t make empty threats. He must have seen the immediate regret that flashed across your face because he stood. 

“I’m sure he will.” He nodded, almost like he was trying to humor you. Then his expression turned dark. “I won’t hurt you, I have no reason to. But he does.” and he stepped to the side to reveal a man. 

“Fuck.” You murmured. Mr. Joh stood tall, a scar running down his face. He had those obsidian eyes, just like Hawyeong. 

“You murdered my sister a while ago, do you remember her?” Mr. Joh carefully slid a chair in front of you and sat on it. Taehyung looked away, a muscle in his jaw ticking. You kept your eyes locked on him, not Mr. Joh. It was almost as if Taehyung was a slice of home, a reminder of when you were back at the mansion. Oh how the tables have turned. 

“Who? I’ve killed many.” You tried to bite back, but your words lacked the punch needed to effectively get your point across. You were tired and sore. How long had you been sitting in that chair? 

“What do you mean who.” Mr. Joh spat. “You don’t even have enough pride to remember your victims, do you?”

“I remember you...” You stared straight at Taehyung, and he watched you carefully. “And I certainly remember you.” You spoke to him. Mr. Joh followed your eyes. You knew you were giving away too much, letting him into your mind far too easily. Even a low level torturer would be able to decipher the thoughts in your mind. Please, Taehyung, let me out. Don’t you like me? The second those words crossed your mind, you froze. Don’t you like me? 

Your heart was beating fast. Then Mr. Joh snapped, signalling Taehyung to leave the room. Your eyes pleaded with him. Please don’t go. You then realized you had no right to beg for life. After all...Death longed for you more than Yoongi or anyone else. You had stolen so many lives, why couldn’t you accept your own demise? Your eyes looked down to the floor, ashamed. The monster inside was locked in the basement and the angelic little girl from before had control. No wonder you felt so broken at the moment. Taehyung seemed hesitant to leave, but he left nonetheless. 

“Now, where were we?” Mr. Joh smiled, flicking a knife into his hands. 

-

-

as;fks;gkhslkdhf Okay okay okay- I like this direction. Let me know your thoughts. 

Previous | Next

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Here I am, minding my own business scrolling through when I stumble upon deep within. Already I’m so invested! Thank you for this wonderful story... can’t wait to read more!

I know I’ve answered this prompt, but it made me so happy that I did it twice. Enjoy the next part:

Deep Within The Darkness Peering: Part i; Chapter THREE.

“Have you ever done anything impetuous?” The question was rhetorical and John knew it having known Claire since college, she already knew that he had. “The other week someone was airlifted in, a prisoner, and I need to help him.”

“What? Claire? Are you insane?” He spluttered, holding the phone close to his ear as he paced the length of his large office in shock. A high flying barrister in the city, John rarely had to attend to questions from her regarding his job so it had come as a shock to him when she’d called so out of the blue.

“Before you say anything, he hasn’t put me up to this. Please, John, just hear me out, okay?”

“Jeez, why could this not be something simple?” He asked, massaging his temples with his free hand.

“He was up for parole but the fight that landed him in my care got back to the governors and whilst he was in the hospital they denied his request and rubber stamped it. He’s been told he can’t appeal, that it’s final. But he didn’t start the scuffle, he was so badly injured, he flatlined once on the table and spent another week in an induced coma. He told me he didn’t fight back and I trust him. I don’t know what happened, what they did to him, but something tells me their purpose was to keep him there for the foreseeable future.”

“What’s his name?” Pulling his laptop from its bag, he let it load whilst grabbing a tumbler and a new bottle of whisky, clearly it was going to be a long night.

“Jamie,” she began, shaking her head and correcting herself as she wrapped her frozen hands around a warm cup of tea, “James Fraser.”

“Christ, Claire! You know what he did right?”

Taken aback by the fact that John knew who Jamie was without even having to look him up, she nearly dropped the boiling liquid onto her lap. “Yes, but--”

“But nothing. You cannot be serious. He *beat* a captain beyond recognition and left him for dead in an alley. If they denied his request then it’s because his conviction is too severe, that and they probably don’t trust that he can rehabilitate himself." His research was leading him deeper into the case as he read the transcripts from various stages of Fraser’s trial. “How can we prove that what he says about the fight in prison is accurate? You might be right, he might not have instigated it or even lashed out during it, but I doubt there’s any evidence to support his claims.”

“So there’s nothing to be done?” Hanging her head in defeat, she let out the breath she’d been holding, her stomach feeling hollow at the prospect of failing him.

“You didn’t make him any promises, did you?” He asked cautiously.

“No. I didn’t even mention that I was contemplating this, I didn’t know what chance I had of getting a hold of you in time, let alone you knowing his case.”

“I don’t - really, I just know *of* it.”

“And what do you know about the cop, the guy he attacked? One of the guards mentioned him in passing.”

John could tell there was more to it by the tone of her voice but didn’t press for information. Shaking his head, he considered his options. He knew some home truths about the man, opinions and facts that he’d heard pass through the high court offices and as much as he trusted Claire, she seemed to have a vested interest in Fraser and he didn’t want to lend hope to her cause where there was none.

Against his better judgement, though, he stuck to the truth - reciting as much as he felt able to divulge. “His name is Captain Jack Randall. Quite a decorated officer, he has been known to employ less than favourable methods of extraction when it comes to confessions but nothing has ever come from the claims. He’s like Marmite, it seems, either you love him or…” he took a deep breath; the truth, he told himself again, “you hate him.”

“John,” she asked, her spine tingling as she felt hope and fear mingle in her belly, “is there a chance that this...Randall...is stretching the truth? O-or that he caused the fight? To try and keep Jamie inside?”

“I don’t know, Claire. Honestly. I’d have to look further into it. But, and I’m playing devil's advocate here, absolutely anything is possible. It’s rare, but where there is corruption, it often runs deep.”

-- --- --

Throughout her next shift she ignored the feeling in her gut, the twinge of discomfort that had the power to render her immobile if she stopped to think about it for too long. Keeping her promise, she went to see Jamie one last time before they discharged him but they didn’t speak much. She wanted to reach out to him, to tell him about the conversation she’d had with John, but something told her that it was unfair to raise his hopes - especially with a new batch of guards on duty, two she did not know.

“Do you need anything?” She asked, placing the back of her hand lightly against his forehead mimicking the motions of checking his temperature to keep her hands busy. “Something more to eat, or your wounds redressed...just in case?” Without asking for further permission, though, she took the salve that she’d placed in the draw beside his bed and massaged a little more into the chafed sores that lined his wrists. She’d taken to silently doing this every day. The handcuffs that bound him rubbed, and she could tell he was bothered by it - though he would never say.

“Thank ye, nurse Beauchamp,” she could tell by his immediate formality that he was being wary, “but I dinna need anything more.”

“Take care of yourself, Mr Fraser.” She said, returning the sentiment.

Pulling the blanket up and over his stomach, she smiled sadly before returning back to her waiting patients. It was hard to leave him, much harder than she’d originally thought but John was a bloody good barrister. If anyone could help it was him.

The rest of the day dragged at an exceedingly slow pace and every moment she had time to herself she considered going back to check on him one last time. And every time she did, Glenna would raise a brow at her and subtly shake her head. There was nothing more she could do for now and loitering around would only arouse suspicion.

She did, however, hang around the nurses station long enough to watch the corridor clear as they led him away. Looking at his feet, he didn’t glance up though she willed him to, just for one last chance at reassurance. Her heart dropped in her chest the moment he was out of sight, a feeling of loneliness taking root in the base of her stomach.

“Come now, Claire,” Glenna whispered, rubbing her elbow gently, “final rounds before dinner, maybe Mrs Greaves will tell us another tale of her time in the army, aye?”

The red button on her answering machine was blinking wildly by the time she arrived home. As she threw her keys in the bowl beside the door and removed her shoes, she pressed play, put her work lanyard by her keys and half listened to the first message.

“Stupid spam companies.” She cursed as a woman with a cockney accent wittered on about accident claims. It wasn’t until she heard John’s voice that she began to fully pay attention. Quickly rewinding the tape, she replayed the message, the breath catching in her throat as hope swelled in her chest.

“Hi Claire, it’s me, John,” his manicured English accent seemed more prominent on the tape making each of his words clear and pronounced, “it turns out you were right about the fight. There’s video evidence from the security footage that shows the prisoners setting to your Mr Fraser. It’s too pixelated to make out what happened to start it, or what they used to cause him such damage but it’s enough for me to make a clear case for another hearing of his probation case. I called the hospital, they said you’d be off by midnight. Please get some rest now and meet me in the cafe at the end of your road for breakfast - we’ll talk more then.”

Pulling out her mobile, she penned him a quick message, a real smile covering her face as she slumped against the wall, relief coursing through her.

Morning seemed ages away, the hours ticking by slowly. Unable to relax, Claire sat in bed with a cup of tea and a new book. The mattress was comfy, a new one she’d purchased not long ago, and she couldn’t help but hope Jamie wasn’t in too much pain sleeping, once again, on his prison cot. The alarm woke her some time later as she blinked her eyes sleepily, sat upright in bed -her book now resting on her lap- and slid herself from beneath the sheets. Noting the time, she dressed quickly, pulling the scarf around her neck as she walked the few steps between her apartment and the tiny greasy spoon she occasionally purchased breakfast from.

John was already there, looking massively out of place in his suit and tie, supping quietly on his first cup of coffee. His first words to her, though, were only cautiously optimistic.

“I just have to warn you, Claire, there is still a lot standing between Fraser and his freedom. Remember, he attacked a policeman, he’s served half his jail time and has amassed a good record whilst being incarcerated. That,” he said, looking pointedly at her, “will work in his favour and now we can be certain he didn’t instigate or take part in the assault against himself it’ll make him seem more of a good candidate. But, there is one thing you have to know…”

She waited, certain that no matter what John said she was set on her course. “It won’t matter.” If they had cause to hide information about the skirmish to scupper his probation case, there was no telling what else they were capable of.

Surveying her expression, he could tell she wasn’t backing down. “He has no place of residence listed on his file. With no home, no accepting family, he’ll just be denied again. Once he’s served his time, in full, they’ll let him free without worrying too much about that. But for probation to be approved you need to provide evidence of a fixed, permanent address.”

“So...what if I offer mine up to him, just for the duration of his probation.”

“You do know how long that would be, don’t you?”

She didn’t, but she knew he’d clue her in.

“Four years, his total sentence is eight years.”

“Shit, John, he’s been inside since he was twenty!?” The colour drained from her face, her nails digging into the rough wooden table. Burying the shock, she swallowed, wrapping her hands around her small glass of water to keep herself still. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t care how long it would be for, my offer remains the same. If he needs a sponsor, I’ll do it.”

Sighing, John brought his hand to rest over hers. “This is all very gallant of you and I’m sure he’ll be really grateful to you, but I need you to seriously consider the consequences of this decision, of the choice you’re making.”

“I trust him, John. I know you think it’s madness, I can tell by the look in your eyes. And yes, I don’t really know him all that well. But I just *know*, something in my heart tells me this is the right thing to do, that he needs this. You didn’t see him after he got the news. You didn’t see his face, the fear etched deep behind his eyes. He’s terrified, John. Petrified. It might be a naive notion, but I got the distinct impression he didn’t feel safe going back there. For all we know, the damage might have already been done. But if anything else happens to him, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

“Alright then.” Squeezing the side of her palm, he took one last sip of his drink and placed the mug back onto the table. “Just know, though, if any harm comes to you, I’ll never forgive myself. And if he does something to jeopardize his probation, it may directly impact on you. On your home, your career...your wellbeing.”

“Thank you.” Resting her head against his shoulder, she breathed an easy breath, the scent of boiled coffee filling her lungs. “I really appreciate you taking the time to work on this for me.”

After a brief term dating at the beginning of university, John had confessed his true proclivities to Claire and they had turned into fast friends. His family, like hers, had a certain reputation and his parents were clear on his path. Degree, law school, marriage and kids; and though they hadn’t been outwardly disappointed by his confession when he’d finally worked up the guts to tell them, his relationship had suffered because of it.

Claire had stuck by him, had moved to Glasgow shortly after he’d been promoted here and had become more like a sister than a best friend. Her story had hit him harder than he cared to admit. With no remaining family of her own, she had a tendency to gravitate towards people who needed a home and even if Fraser turned out to be unworthy of her help, he knew she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it if she didn’t at least try.

“I’ll do what I can. It could take a while, a few weeks maybe, so don’t panic if we don’t have an answer immediately.”

“Will it take as long as the original hearing.”

“Six months? Gosh no. I could take up to a month, depending on whether the board drag their heels, but if we put a little pressure on them -not enough to anger them, mind- we should have an answer in a week or two.”

[misfitgirlwrites]

Chapter Six

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

So how long did this take? Lmao Thank you to all the people who waited!! This chapter will be posted then I have finals coming up so I may not have another one for a while but it won't be as long as this wait! Enjoy~

        "Come from behind the wall."

        Aniyah didn't budge. Did he know she was there the whole time? He couldn't have, right?

        'RUN!'

        Aniyah blinked, finally coming to her senses. She tried to run back down the hall but The Joker grabbed her arm tightly. He pushed her against the wall and grabbed her face.

        "Look at that pretty face I missed so much." He squinted his eyes and slammed her against the wall, making her cry out. He flipped her around, twisting her arm behind her back painfully and pressing her face against the wall.

        "W-Wait!" Aniyah gasped.

        "Scared I'm gonna break it?" The Joker let out a shrill laugh. His lips brushed against her ear, "I just might, doll."

        "Don't--" Aniyah tensed up as he yanked on her arm again.

        "I won't. Just tell me about the cop you've been seeing-ah."

        "I'm not--it was just one date--"

        "What's his name?"

        The redhead didn't respond and she bit her lip as he tightened his grip on her arm.

        "Ani-yah."

        "Please, I don't want you to hurt him."

        "Really? Sounds like there was going to be more than one date." The Joker gripped her hair tightly and yanked her head back. "Tell me his name. Now-ah." He pulled at her arm again and Aniyah could feel it about to pop out of place.

        "O-Okay! John Blake!" She caved, closing her eyes.

        "Good girl. That wasn't so hard, was it?" His grip loosened on her arm, "did ya miss me that much doll? Or were you trying to forget me?"

        "What do you think?" Aniyah snapped.

        "You don't wanna know what I think." He retorted.

        "If you kill him I'll--"

        "You'll what?" The Joker challenged, "shoot me?" He laughed.

        "Maybe I will."

        "Oh, is that a challenge, Ani-yah?"

        "Joker," the woman tried to push herself away from the wall, but his grip was too tight, "let me go."

        "No, no, no. We still need to catch up, doll!" He spun her around so they were face to face again. "I just love that book of yours. It wasn't what I expected."

        "Did you really think I would write something about you?"

        "Oh, you did. Not specifically, but you certainly did. You're trying so hard not to play the victim but that's how the world sees you. You know that, don't you?"

        "That's not true." Aniyah shook her head.

        "You can lie to yourself if you want but everyone knows the truth. You're mine."

        "I'm not!"

        "You were so terrified of me getting out of here, you barely went outside."

        Aniyah didn't respond. She couldn't; he was right.

        "You couldn't say my name, not even once. I wonder, how many nights did I plague your dreams--"

        "Shut up." Aniyah closed her eyes again as he chuckled.

        "You were in my dreams to, Ani-yah." The Joker grinned. "I'm so excited to see how our second date goes. You remember what I said, don't you?"

        Her eyes snapped open. She didn't remember, not fully. She had spent her time trying to push that night deep within her mind but the memories were painfully resurfacing.

        "There's gonna be a second date, I promise. Then, uh, I won't let you out of my sight-ah."

        Aniyah shook her head, "no--"

        "Yes. I'm a man of my word, doll."

        "I'm not going anywhere with you!" She tried fighting him off. She managed to land one punch but he quickly grabbed her wrists and pinned them down.

        "Don't be, uh, difficult. Though you do pack a punch." He cackled. "You're supposed to be with Ted anyway. How'd you slip away?"

        "None of your business."

        "Still got your phone?"

        "No."

        "Then you won't mind me checking-ah." His dark eyes quickly darted down Aniyah's body and she tensed up.

        "D-Don't--"

        "Come on, doll. Don't lie to me."

        "...I-It's in my pocket."

        "Take it out and drop it. You don't need it." The joker let go of her wrists.

        Aniyah hesitantly complied, dropping her phone behind her. "There. Happy now?"

        "Very. Let's go, doll." He pulled her forward and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, making her walk down the hall with him. "You know, I didn't expect to see you here. Did you miss me that much?"

        "No. I was going to do what was needed to keep you locked up." Aniyah retorted.

        "And how'd that work out for you?" The Joker chuckled, pulling her closer once she tried to put distance between them. "I didn't peg you as a therapist type though. What was her name? Kelly?"

        "How long did you have Ted watching me?" Aniyah pushed his arm off of her.

        "Well, I had to make sure you didn't leave Gotham somehow. You know, Ted used to be a Private Investigator."

        Aniyah clenched her jaw as the man smirked.

         "That idiot's had every job in Gotham."

        "It does seem like it. How is Pearl? I heard you two are close now--"

        "Hopefully she made it out." Aniyah tried to move away from him but he moved closer.

        "Don't get your hopes up. I got a feeling this building will go up in flames with a lot of people still inside. Now, I need a gun."

        Aniyah's eyes widened, "a gun for what?!"

        "You'll see. Let's go." The Joker grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall.

~~~~~~

        The Joker seemed to know where he was going and he never loosened his grip never loosened on Aniyah as he went. She looked around quietly, trying to ignore the memories creeping back in.

        "You're so quiet, doll. Thinkin' about the day we first met?"

        "Why would I think about that?"

        "Well it's obvious, isn't it? It's because--you missed me-ah."

        "No, I didn't. I was happy when they locked you up." Aniyah hissed.

        "Is that what you're telling yourself? He looked back at her and grinned, "oh! That reminds me. I have a special gift for you. It's in your car, so we'll have to get it later."

        "I-Is it a--"

        "No, not a dead body. I don't do the same trick twice, Ani-yah."

        "Then what is it?"

        "A surprise."

        Aniyah didn't think she could take any more surprises from him and she wasn't looking forward to it.

        "Do you still have the ring?" The Joker asked.

        "W-What?"

        "The ring, doll."

        The ring.

***

        "Here's your surprise." The Joker pulled a diamond ring from his pocket and slid it onto Aniyah's finger as she stood frozen, "I stole it from Mrs. Arkham." He giggled as she stared at the ring.

        The Joker pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. Aniyah tried to break free but he grabbed her face, keeping her still.

        "You may kiss the bride-ah." He said before smashing his lips onto hers.

        Aniyah's eyes widened as she froze up again. She felt her heartbeat beginning to pick up and whimpered as he deepened the kiss, feeling his scars run across her cheeks.

        "We'll be together, til' death do us part."

***

        "You still with me, doll?"

        Aniyah blinked and shook her head, "I'm--I tried to give the ring back. Dr. Arkham didn't want it--"

        "So where is it?"

        Aniyah didn't answer. The Joker tilted his head, "well?"

        "...It's in my room."

        "So you kept it." He grinned.

        "When I get the chance I'll get rid of it." Aniyah retorted.

        "Are you, uh, upset because I'm making you remember our first date?"

        "I didn't forget." Aniyah snapped, "how could I forget that you killed my best friend right in front of me?"

        "Let's not pick and choose, Ani-yah. If I recall correctly, right after I killed her, you kissed me. Remember that-ah?"

***

        "Shhh. Look at me and focus."

        "F-Focus?" 

        "Don't you feel the weight being lifted off of your chest?" The Joker said, glancing down at her arm. Once he was done, he put his switchblade away, staring into Aniyah's teary eyes. "Ya know, sometimes pain can help you more than love can, doll."

        Aniyah stared him before leaning forward and kissing him. The Joker immediately kissed back, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her closer. After a few moments, he pulled away, letting Aniyah catch her breath.

        "As much as I'd love to live out every second of my dream, we'll have to put that on hold." He pulled Aniyah to her feet then put his hand back on his wound.

        'Fuck. I--I just kissed The Joker.'

***

        "S-Stop it." Aniyah realized The Joker was much closer now.

        "Stop what?"

        "That didn't mean anything! I don't know what the hell I was thinking--"

        "That's just it. You weren't. You were living in the moment and you did what you wanted to do. It felt nice, didn't it?"

        "Shut up." Aniyah shook her head and The Joker grinned.

        "I'll take that as a yes. Come on, we're almost there."

~~~~~~         Aniyah looked around the half-finished bathroom before her eyes locked on the stall in front of her. It was clear that whoever was inside was dead. The redhead slowly moved to see inside and covered her mouth. There was an axe lodged into the security guard's head.

        "He had it coming." The Joker chuckled.

        Before Aniyah could talk herself out of it, she moved forward and grabbed the gun that was on the floor near the security guard. She quickly held up the gun, pointing it at The Joker. He grinned and tilted his head, letting her move out of the stall.

        "Well, Ani-yah. You're the one with the gun. Tell me, doll. How do you think this is going to end?"

        Aniyah didn't falter, "I don't know, maybe I'll shoot you again; this time in the chest." She pulled the safety off the gun as The Joker laughed.

        "You think so?" He moved closer, making her back up. "Come on, Ani-yah. This is your chance." He licked his lips, glaring at her. It sent shivers down her spine.

        After a long pause, The Joker grabbed her wrists tightly, making her drop the gun.

        "I missed you, doll. I can tell you missed me too." He cooed as she tried to pull away.

        "Bullshit!" Aniyah snapped, "you ruined my life!"

        The Joker pulled her closer and grabbed her face, "no, no, no. I'm helping you start a new one. So you don't have to worry about the rules. So you can live in chaos. Like me."

        "I don't want to live like you. Fuck you." Aniyah regretted it as soon as it left her mouth.

        The Joker shoved her back against the wall and she let out a pained grunt. He picked up the gun and examined it before pressing it against her shoulder.

        "J-Joker--"

        "Do you know what it feels like to be shot, Ani-yah?"

        Aniyah could feel her heart beginning to race and she closed her eyes tightly.

        "Look at me. And answer my question."

        "N-No. I don't." Aniyah looked up at him.

        "You could've had me fooled. When you wrote about it, it almost seemed like you knew."

        The redhead glanced down at the gun again.

        "Almost." The Joker pulled the trigger, shooting Aniyah in the shoulder and she let out a pained cry. A burning pain spread through her shoulder and tears welled in her eyes. Her ears were ringing but she could hear The Joker laughing. He lifted her head up, watching the tears run down her face.

        "Now. Let's pay Dr. Arkham a visit, shall we?"

~~~~~~~~

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[shewolfofficial]

Lets just say Levi gets murdered somehow, his ghost stays in the scouts Hq where his s/o is, how would she get her revenge back?

Oh lord this is just angsty af

Warning: Cursing, Mentions Of Blood, Violence, Angst

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The news spread like wildfire and you were now officially broken.

He was Humanities Strongest…

He was Levi Ackerman…

He was murdered.

Most nights you’d cry yourself to sleep, clutching his pillow as the once warm space beside you was now cold and empty. His office which always scented with lemons and bleach began to slowly fade away. With every little memory, you had of your lover fading away you felt a piece of yourself disappear with the memories as well. You didn’t know how it happened but you were told he was stabbed in the back four times before he finally left this hell of a planet.

The HQ was dull…

The mess hall was silent..

Training wasn’t the same anymore.

Erwin, being the kind and understanding man he is let you have Levi’s office. You didn’t remove one thing that belonged to him, his desk, his wardrobe, his chair. It all stayed. You picked up the habit of cleaning and kept the room sparkling at all times.

Sometimes you would sit at his desk holding one of his cravats, grazing your fingertips over the soft white fabric as you didn’t stop the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. Often, you’d find yourself mumbling things hoping Levi would suddenly appear with a sassy comment like before telling you to get a grip of yourself or for you to go clean.

But you were only welcomed into a silence.

Your friends knew how the impact of hearing the news literally destroyed you in a matter of seconds, they wanted to help you but you constantly put on this façade acting like everything was alright. But it wasn’t.

Your flickering candle has gone out.

And now you’re left in darkness.

Even though Levi couldn’t be there in person didn’t mean he wasn’t there as a spirit, he’d wander through the hallways looking over everyone. Obviously realising the change of aura in the HQ since his departure set a dull mood, but that was nothing compared to listening to you plead and sob yourself to sleep nearly every night. Levi would sit at the end of the bed, watching you as guilt suffocated him, he didn’t want to leave you so early, leave you like this where you seemed only to be slowly shutting down as each day passed.

The energy you emitted showed that you were begging, crying out for someone to help you back up on your feet and release you from the tight chains that held you down in the dark abyss.

Then another different energy suddenly flickered alive within you.

It was determination.

Levi would watch as you work away at his desk, hoping and working to find whoever it was who took away your saviour. Sometimes he’d sit in a corner of his office watching you pace back and forth grumbling and cursing from frustration.

You could always feel like you were being watched, crazy you might think, but you did have the feeling like you were being inspected by someone. Sometimes when you work you’d sometimes flick your E/C gaze up and around the office wondering why you got this strange feeling.

One night you decided to have a break and get some rest, and that’s what you did.

// First Person \

Sighing I sit back in my chair, the small candle on the desk dancing freely as the office was illuminated by the warm light. Curtains pulled behind the desk I closed my eyes and stretched, leaning down in the chair I open one of the drawers of the desk and pulled out something that would help me relax most times.

A cravat.

His cravat.

“Five months since you left me Levi… Five months of excruciating pain... I’ll make sure you are avenged.. I won’t stop until I find that bastard..” I mutter, voice echoing back and forth around the office as I bring the fabric to my lips, closing my eyes I peck the cravat letting my lips linger for a few seconds as the smell of his cologne stuck to it.

“Jesus fucking christ she’s kissing my cravat”

Snapping my frantic eyes open I stared straight ahead as I rested both hands on the desk. “Great F/N you’re going insane.. Now you’re hearing his voice!” I said shaking my head rubbing my eyes with the ball of my hands. “Wait what? You can hear me?” his voice lilted again as I darted my orbs around the office again.

“Yep, I’m going insane.. Dammit F/N you’re getting voices in your head! Stop hallucinating!” I scolded myself pinching the bridge of my nose. “Goddammit woman, you’re not bloody hallucinating! I’m right here!” Levi’s voice rose yet, he was nowhere to be seen, tears pricked at the corner of my eyes as I clamped a hand over my mouth “he’s dead, why can’t I get it through my skull.. I’ll never see him again..” I whimpered as I felt a breeze at my shoulder.

“F/N… You’re not going mad.. Look at me, I’m here..” the voice called out again from next to me, turning to my side my glossy E/C orbs landed on a slightly see-through Levi. He wore a pained expression as he rested a hand on my shoulder. “Levi..” I mutter seeing him send me a sad smile “yes you brat, I’m here.. I always have been..” he replies actually managing to wipe away a stray tear.

“It’s been so hard..”

“I know it has F/N.. But.. You’re almost done with catching the prick, I know I can count on you to give that bastard sweet revenge for me” he says as I slightly nod, not taking my E/C eyes off of his figure. “Go to bed, it’s been three days since you last slept... Don’t worry about me, I’ll be here cleaning properly while you snooze your ass off” Levi couldn’t help but chuckle as I let a small giggle slip. “Don’t leave me Levi.. Just stay with me” my face turns back to a slightly saddened one as he shoots me a guilty look.

“I’ll stay by your side until the day you join me again, then we can continue where we left off ”

// Time Skip \

Levi kept his word, sticking to me like glue he followed me around like some paranormal guard dog. And right now I was headed for an abandoned cabin in the woods where the man who killed Levi lingered.

Quietly opening the back door to the cabin we snuck inside, careful not to make the floorboards creak as I ghosted along them. A muffled chatter filled a room across the corridor as I snuck towards it, putting together my most innocent look I creaked open the door to the room where the chatter came from.

All sounds ceasing I felt a breeze next to me meaning Levi was there by my side again. Suddenly the door to the room slammed open revealing a taller and scruffier man that loomed over me. “Eh!? A girl!? What are you doing here!?” he rose his voice as I hid a blade behind my back. “I-I got lost.. I-I t-thought I could f-find help here” I squeaked in my best-scared tone I could muster. Glancing behind him the guy sent a swift nod to his co-worker before turning back to me.

The man turned back to me only to find I had plunged my blade in his chest, sending him a terrifying look I could hear Levi gulp from next to me. Taking out my blade blood spurted as the metal left the man’s wound, dropping to the ground like a ragdoll with a puddle of his own lukewarm crimson blood the man lay motionless.

Peering into the room here another lanky bastard stood looking horrified his gaze set on me as his brown eyes widened taking a step back. “Sh-Shit! you bitch! You’re crazy! Wait... Fuck! You were Levi’s girlfriend!” the second guy screeched out loudly as Levi mumbled a quiet ‘that’s him..’ from my side.

Not hesitating for a second I sprinted in at full speed as the man shrieked in terror. Kicking him to the ground I gave him a smile as I twiddled the knife around in my hand. “I’m going to make sure I have fun before I let you die… Can’t kill you just yet.. I’ll get no boost out of it you see?” I say as I begin to drag the blade up and down his chest.

“Let’s begin, shall we?”

// 2 Hours Later \

Battered and bruised, cuts lined every inch of the male's skin as his fingers and toes were bare from the lack of ripped out nails. Broken teeth and blood dribbling down his chin from the corner of his mouth, the man sat there groaning in pain as I stood there inspecting my work of art.

“You’re crazy…”

“Tsk, I’d like to call it mentally creative” I snickered rolling my eyes before slicing open his throat, instantly ending his life. “Bloody hell, you’ve definitely gotten more violent over the months” Levi comments from behind me, turning over my shoulder I sent him a soft smile. “Well.. I killed them… You’re not going to just disappear now right?” I mutter cleaning the blade before slipping it away into my pocket.

“No, I don’t plan on leaving you anyway.. Stop worrying about me disappearing now and get back to HQ cadet.. You smell like shit from blood” Levi adds a somewhat stern tone as I sent him a curt nod and led the way out.

“Oh and by the way F/N?” Levi perked up from next to me, glancing to him he looked like he was still alive, flesh, bones and all as my eyes widened a fraction. “You look like you’re going to piss yourself” Levi says averting his gunmetal orbs ahead of us both. “You look- You look like you’re alive… Like nothing has happened.. How..” I mumble as he chuckles inwardly turning back to me “I’ve been practising this shit for a few weeks now, seems like I’ve finally gotten the hang of it” the raven-haired man smirks lightly as I smile widely, leaping at him I feel my arms wrap around him like he’s actually still a person, still alive, still here.

Returning the hug Levi pulls away before slamming his surprisingly soft and warm lips to my own, returning it right away I wrap my arms around his neck. I’ve never felt a kiss so desperate, so affection starved.. It seems like we haven’t been together in forever and we’ve only after seeing each other again. The feeling of neediness practically dripped from Levi’s temporary alive-like form as he tugged me closer to him. The unexpected taste of tea seeping from him making me smile ever so slightly as we pull away after a few minutes. “It’s been so long since we’ve done that..” Levi muttered resting his forehead against my own, raven hair tickling my soft skin as his stormy eyes bore into my own.

“It’s been too long Levi..”