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here4theheartbreak · 3 years ago

Text

An Inconvenient Attachment (myg+jjk+pjm)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Jungkook x Yoongi, Jimin x Jungkook, Jungkook x Yoongi, minor Hoseok x Seokjin Genre: smut, fantasy/supernatural au, fluff, enemies to lovers, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers Final Rating: Explicit Word Count (Chapter): ~15k

Tags (more added as needed): werewolf Jungkook, vampire Yoongi, human Jimin, kumiho Seokjin, selkie Hoseok, snowed in, handcuffed together, friends with benefits, polyamory, past violence, past murder, past abuse, discussion of murder, semi-graphic descriptions of violence, blood drinking, threesome, sharing a bed, multiple partners, dirty talk, oral sex, coming untouched

Summary: When Yoongi agreed to go on a two week winter getaway to the mountains with his roommates, he expected peace, quiet, and plenty of alone time with his roommate with benefits Jungkook. What he did not expect was to be handcuffed to his worst enemy for the duration of the trip. He figured it couldn't get worse... Until it did.

A/N: This fic was written for the @thebtswritersclub Fic Exchange for sujigguk! Sorry it was so late, I hope you enjoy it! | This fic also fulfills the July Prompt for X to Lovers! A/N 2: Banner made by @imyourhobiii - thank you so much! A/N 3: This also fills the square Road Trip for @bangtanwritingbingo

As a vampire, one would think the worst thing about living with a human would be the temptation, the bloodlust. But for Yoongi… The worst part of living with Jimin was that he was the most fucking annoying, ridiculous human that Yoongi had ever had the misfortune of meeting in sixty years of life. Draining him would be a welcomed reprieve.

However, the man Yoongi had – rather surprisingly – fallen in love with was also in love with the trifling human and his stupid pretty mouth and his horribly adorable hands, and – no. Yoongi was not wandering down that path again.

Jimin was the son of vampire hunters. Murders of so many of Yoongi’s kind. And though Jimin had sworn that he had renounced their way of thinking and was estranged from them… Born into a family of killers made him just as untrustworthy, in Yoongi’s mind. Certain crimes simply could not be repented for and yes, sometimes the son did need to bear the crimes of the father.

Yoongi tolerated Jimin for Jungkook’s sake, the dopey wolf boy that had wriggled into his undead heart; and for their fourth roommate – Jin – a Kumiho with an odd affection for the human. In fact, Yoongi often felt like he was the only one that didn’t like Jimin.

And recently, more and more, Yoongi was starting to wonder if Jimin hated him as much as he hated Jimin. Especially lately; it seemed like everything Jimin did was done specifically to annoy Yoongi.

Which is likely why Yoongi ended up in a car, sitting next to his mortal (literally) enemy, on the way to an isolated cabin that Jin’s boyfriend, Hoseok owned. Jin had suggested it a few days after a particularly aggressive fight between Jimin and he, where he not only showed his fangs, but may or may not have thrown an open bag of blood at Jimin.

The trip hadn’t been so bad so far, Yoongi had to admit. They were driving straight through, and the drive was two days away from the city. Jimin was forced into a seat next to Yoongi, but was keeping to himself, reading and staring out the window or talking to Jungkook. Jungkook was in the front with Jin and was, at that very moment, pestering the hell out of the fox shifter.

Normally Yoongi would jump in and soothe the excitable wolf’s mood, but at the moment… Let them both suffer. This diabolical idea to get him to play nice with Jimin was likely both of theirs, so they could deal. Even immortality could not cure Yoongi’s sense of petty revenge.

Yoongi reached into the small bag next to his feet, withdrawing a bag of chilled blood. He grimaced. A microwave would have been nice; but they weren’t scheduled to stop for quite some time – and only really to let the more humanlike ones stretch their legs. He pinched open the tip of the bag, tilting it back into his mouth. The sticky, sickly sweet fluid hit his tongue. Cold or not, it was the most refreshing thing he’d had in hours. He was able to go quite a number of days without blood, but dammit if it wasn’t uncomfortable.

As he drank, he glanced over at Jimin from the corner of his eye. Jimin was reading a book, paying him no attention. How could a human pay someone no attention when they were drinking blood right next to him? Yoongi righted the bag, scowling down at it. Why did he want Jimin to pay attention to him? He hoped to disturb the human, perhaps. That’s what it was. Make Jimin uncomfortable and prove he secretly hated vampires just like his parents. Maybe then Jin and Jungkook wouldn’t love him so much.

“Jiminie,” Jungkook whined. He turned in his seat, leaning into the back. “Yoongi…”

“What?” Jimin and Yoongi answered at nearly the same time.

“Will you two go for a run with me in the woods next time we stop? I’m itchy.”

Yoongi scoffed. “Why bother asking the human? He can’t keep up with you like I can.”

Jimin shifted a little. He smiled softly. “He’s right.”

“So? I’ll let you ride on my back,” Jungkook offered.

“That’s not running with you then. Yoongi can go with you.”

Jungkook pouted a little but nodded. He wriggled himself further between the seats, grabbing for Jimin. Before he could get him, Jin’s hand emerged. He grabbed the collar of Jungkook’s shirt and yanked him back. “Stop distracting the driver!” He snapped.

“You bully,” Jungkook complained, smacking at him despite his warning. The two very quickly fell into another playful bicker, leaving Yoongi in peace with his thoughts. Next to him, Yoongi felt Jimin shift, and then again, before hearing him sigh. He looked over. Jimin had curled up onto the seat, bunching a hoodie under his head against the window to rest. He was getting on toward nighttime, Yoongi supposed. Day and night blended for him these days – and Jungkook was naturally nocturnal. It must have been hard to be where Jimin was, he thought as he watched Jimin sleep. A home with three creatures so different from himself. And in love – or at least lust – with one of them. A pang of sympathy shot through Yoongi’s chest. He grimaced at himself. What was he doing. Maybe there was something in the car, poisoning him. Pitying the rotten human? Never. Yoongi scoffed to himself. He nuzzled himself into the other corner of the seat, pulling his legs up under him. He “accidentally” let one slip, kicking Jimin squarely in the thigh. Jimin shot upright, grimacing. From his mostly closed lids, Yoongi could see Jimin look down at his leg where he’d been kicked, then over at Yoongi. Instead of getting angry, much to Yoongi’s surprise (and discomfort), Jimin smiled. He shook his head and laid back down, snuggling against the hoodie.

Being technically undead, Yoongi didn’t require sleep. He had periods where he needed to rest, usually early in the morning around sunrise, but not necessarily sleep in the human sense of the phrase. But boy, did he like it. Sleeping was great. Six to eight hours of just not existing, having fun dreams, waking up to a new day – Yoongi couldn’t ever imagine willingly not sleeping like some of his vampire friends. However, much like a human who slept away a third of their hours, sleeping made Yoongi absolutely ravenous upon waking. Which wasn’t normally a problem.

Except when he was in a car. With a living being that was filled with his only food source. And somehow in his sleep had wound up snuggling against said obnoxious human’s stupidly soft neck.

Yoongi felt his fangs poking his bottom lip before he realized it. He inhaled sharply. Oh, that smelled delicious. His mouth watered in response, and he inhaled again, opening his mouth instinctively.

His eyes fluttered open and he shifted, hunting for the source of the bittersweet, rich aroma. Instead of a particularly juicy steak or even a cup of blood warmed thoughtfully by Jungkook, Yoongi’s gaze fell on Jimin. The human’s shaggy black hair had fallen over his eyes as he slept, his plush lips wet and parted. His pulse was throbbing firm and steady by Yoongi’s ear.

He shot up, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the car.

Jin glanced back. “Maggot bite your ass or something?” He teased.

“I’ll bite you,” Yoongi grumbled. He wriggled as far away from Jimin and his stupid sweet smelling blood as he could before digging into his bag and pulling out the other satchel of blood he’d stored in it. It should be all he needed until they reached the cabin, and once there they had packed a solid supply of blood bags for him. Good too – because based on the weather as the car climbed into the mountains, Yoongi wondered if they might not be snowed in for a few days.

The final rest stop was only a few more miles. Jin pulled in, stepping out to stretch his legs. Jungkook bounded out himself, taking a quick peek to make sure they were alone. He stripped shamelessly out of his clothing, piling it on the seat and seemingly unaware of the brisk chill in the air.

“Yoongi!” He called, nearly bouncing with excitement and wiggling out of his skin.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Yoongi grumped, crawling out of the car himself. He watched Jungkook shift from a two-legged ball of energy into a massive four legged one, unable to keep from smiling. In wolf form, Jungkook was just as stunning as his human form. Dark black fur streaked with blonde, massive paws and bright hazel eyes that shone in the light. He barked sharply before taking off toward the tree line. Yoongi followed, catching up and keeping up easily as they darted through the trees.

The two ran for a solid twenty minutes, looping through the woods and back toward the rest stop. As they neared the tree line, Jungkook skidded to a stop, his large paws kicking up dirt and leaves as he did. Yoongi stopped next to him, walking at a slower pace out of the trees. The rest area was still empty, save for their vehicle. Jin was nowhere to be found; probably had taken the time to have his own running session in the woods.

In the fading light of the sunset, Yoongi could see Jimin. He’d wandered a few yards from the car and was lying on a picnic table. His shaggy hair flopped back from his forehead, toned arms up and bulging just a little as he cradled the back of his head against the cold wood. One knee up, leg of his shorts falling back to reveal his smooth thigh, thick with well-defined muscles. He had to be freezing, lying outside in shorts – but they all had weird temperature mechanics after living with Jungkook so long

Next to Yoongi, Jungkook shifted, and Yoongi scoffed. “All that working out the human does, and he still can’t begin to keep up with you.”

When Jungkook didn’t answer, Yoongi glanced over, a little surprised to see Jungkook scowling.

“What? I’m not wrong. He’ll never give you all you need – You love running.”

“What makes you think I need a running partner to have a happy relationship? Jimin can’t run as fast as you or me, but he supports me in other ways.”

“A relationship now, huh?” Yoongi sniped. “Since when was he more than your human toy?”

“Yoongi—” Jungkook hesitated then shook his head. He grabbed his clothes from the car and began tugging them on. “You know I’m fucking both of you. It’s never bothered you before.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Fine. You’ve never been so malicious about it before. Why are you so mean to him anyways? Jimin’s never done anything but try to be kind to you.”

“You know why, Jungkook. If his family were wolf hunters, maybe you’d understand.”

“He’s never hurt one of your kind.”

“Sins of the father, just like his family believes.”

“And he disowned his family because he believes all creatures, living or undead, deserve a chance to be happy. Jin would have never let him into our house if he sensed even a whisper of hatred from that man. And I’m not as stupid as you think either. I may not be some wise old vampire but I am half canine. And we can sense intentions pretty well. You’d do better to try and get along with Jimin.” Jungkook yanked his shirt on, patting his hair down. “Never know, maybe you’d learn something you didn’t expect about him.”

“Oh, like what?” Yoongi grunted, leaning against the car.

“Not my place to say,” Jungkook said simply. “But you’ll never find out if you keep being a needless jerk.”

He blinked in surprise at Jungkook’s unexpected snap, watching him pad off toward where Jimin was lying. Yoongi opted instead to get back into the vehicle, sensing that he’d pushed his annoyance a bit too far with the younger this time.

When Jin returned from his own jaunt in the forest, Jimin and Jungkook returned to the car. Jimin slid into the seat next to Yoongi, offering a soft smile at him. Yoongi remained stone faced. Did he feel a little bad for what he said? Not that he’d ever admit.

Jungkook wriggled in next to Jimin, forcing him over closer to Yoongi.

“Wh—” “Wanna sit back here for a bit,” Jungkook said simply.

“I can move up front,” Jimin offered.

“No. I wanna sit by you both.”

“Then get between us.” “Jin’s about to start driving. I’ll crawl over later. I can reach you both.” Jungkook reached over and grabbed Yoongi’s hand for emphasis. Yoongi frowned but said nothing more, though he did twine his fingers with Jungkook’s, squeezing firmly once.

Yoongi let his mind wander as they began to drive once more, staring out the window as the last rays of the day slid down below the horizon. He felt Jungkook’s hand shift away from his, resting on his thigh for a moment before disappearing. There was a slight shuffle, and then Yoongi felt something thin and cold hit his wrist and click. He looked down, brows shooting up when he realized his wrist now had an accessory… A steel handcuff. And said handcuff was attached to someone else… Park Jimin.

Yoongi looked over at Jungkook, who was grinning in his sheepish, bunny-rabbit way.

“Kook…”

“What did you do?” Jimin asked, lifting his wrist gently. He tugged Yoongi’s wrist up as he did.

“Well, you two avoid each other unless you’re fighting. And you’d do that even while we’re up in the cabin. Which is the literal reason we’re going up there, to try and help you two find a common ground. So, now you have no choice but to play nice or end up not being able to do anything.” Jungkook crossed his arms, looking smug as he spoke.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yoongi grumbled. He grabbed the bracelet of the cuffs. “I can’t just snap—” As he spoke, he tugged and twisted at the metal, expecting it to bend open in his grip.

“I can break—” He tried the chain.

“No, you can’t,” Jungkook said simply. “I got monster proof cuffs. Amazing what you can find with a little clever digging these days.”

“Jungkook,” Jimin whispered. He shook his head. “Don’t do this to him.” He offered his wrist as well as he could. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not meant to be, Jimin,” Jungkook said, his smile fading. “You’re my best friend. So is Yoongi. And you both know my feelings run much deeper than that for you both.”

“Then let yourself have those feelings, you don’t need to stress him out like this.”

“I can’t. Even though we may share those feelings… I can’t date one or both of you knowing you hate each other. It doesn’t feel right to me, and I’m not going to have a peaceful relationship knowing that.”

“Date?” Yoongi perked up. “You want to date us?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Maybe. I guess it’ll depend on how this goes. How hard you’re willing to try to get along. I won’t lose either one of you. Whether it progresses from our current sort of friends with benefits deal to more…” Jungkook drifted off. “I’ll unlock the cuffs when we’re back in the car on the way home. Not a minute sooner.”

Jimin sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging.

Yoongi bit back a sharp remark about how disappointed he looked – he was disappointed too. Despite the true point of this trip, Yoongi had been looking forward to a little quiet time with Jungkook. Perhaps even, yes, pushing the idea of taking their relationship from friends with benefits to a little more. He knew Jimin felt the same – or at least very similar – he wasn’t blind. He also knew Jungkook was unlikely to choose one over the other. He hadn’t in the three years they’d kept up this quirky triangle.

Yoongi tugged at the cuffs once more, weakly, pulling Jimin’s wrist along with it.

Jimin looked over at him, his plush lips stuck out in a bit of a pout. “I’ll try not to be too much of a bother,” he mumbled. Rather demurely, given what Yoongi knew of his normal sparky attitude.

“I’ve got a vampire hunter hanging off my wrist,” Yoongi snarked. “It’s already a bother.”

Jimin’s cheek twitched as he clenched his jaw. He ground his teeth for a moment, eyes darkening. He wanted to say something. Yoongi almost wished he would. Let them start to fight – Jungkook might see this was a stupid idea if he did and take off these god-awful cuffs sooner.

But Jimin’s jaw released at the same time his shoulders relaxed again. He faced forward, holding his cuffed wrist delicately on his leg, as close to Yoongi as possible without touching him. Probably to give him more freedom of movement; not that the six-inch chain offered much room for that at all without yanking on one another.

Yoongi huffed, glaring around Jimin at Jungkook, who looked far too smug for what he’d done. He offered a wide, crinkly nosed grin and wriggled down in his seat, snuggling up against Jimin’s shoulder and burying his nose in his neck, his preferred sleeping position with anyone.

Yoongi slouched as far away from Jimin as he could and glared out the window. The weight of the cuff on his wrist made it impossible to relax, sleep, or even let his mind wander to anything except that. And the stupid human. He hated how calm Jimin was about this whole thing. And his pleading. On Yoongi’s behalf. What the hell was that?

Don’t do this to him.

Yoongi didn’t need the human defending him. He was able to stand up for himself. Why did Jimin sound so genuinely stressed out? Oh.

Yoongi scoffed. He looked over at Jimin. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna fucking eat you.”

Jimin blinked at him owlishly. “What?”

“You panicking about the cuffs. I’m sure you think I’m gonna lose my mind and become some blood lust crazy monster just because I’m in proximity to a human.”

“No?” Jimin frowned. “You live with me and have never acted like that. Why would I think that?”

“You know why,” Yoongi tried to cross his arms, only succeeding in tugging Jimin’s wrist onto his lap.

Jimin let himself be tugged, still frowning in confusion at Yoongi. “I really don’t,” he finally said.

“It’s the reason you people kill my kind. You’re scared of us.”

“Maybe,” Jimin said. He shrugged. “I can’t say why humans kill vampires. Or wolves or selkies or any creatures. It’s not for food. Maybe it is fear. Maybe it’s sport.”

“Why don’t you just go ask your dad?”

“Yoongi…” Jimin’s voice was soft, gentle – as if he were talking to a scared animal. “I understand why you hate me. I would too, if I were in your place. I know you’re not happy with this.”

“Can say that again. Can’t even itch my fucking nose. At least your dominant hand is free, what am I supposed to do?”

“Well, what do you actually do that you can’t do with your left?”

Yoongi turned a glare onto Jimin, who grinned. “You weren’t intending to jerk off with me right next to you, were you?” He teased.

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. “Like I could get it up with you breathing down my neck, hunter,” he muttered.

“I told you I’d try not to be much of a bother, and I will do my best. I know you love Jungkook. We just need to keep it together for the week up here, for him. That’s it. Then we can go back to comfortable avoidance.”

Yoongi looked out the window. Jimin was right – he knew that much, but he refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing Yoongi say it. So, he said nothing. They were climbing in elevation now, the trees thickening around the road as it became progressively bumpier. Patches of snow began to appear along the sides of the road and through the trees, and – entirely unsurprising to Yoongi – flakes began to drift down around the car.

The flakes were coming down in far larger clumps, piling a few inches thick by the time they pulled into the cabin. Jin sighed heavily, letting go of the steering wheel. He shook his hands out, rubbing at his palms.

“Those last few miles were hell,” he commented.

“We’re not going to be able to get back down if this keeps up,” Jungkook agreed.

The cabin door burst open as he did, and out rushed Hoseok. Jin climbed out of the car just in time to catch the leaping man, pressing a deep kiss to his mouth. Jungkook leapt out as well, grabbing Hoseok in a tight hug the moment Jin released him.

Yoongi watched the trio, his heart giving an uncomfortable little clench. All shifters. He and Jimin were the oddballs out in this group. He looked through the window. The trees were thick, and heavy with snow, obscuring the view almost entirely around them. Behind the large cabin with a friendly tendril of smoke rising from the chimney, was a stunning, still lake. Despite the grey coloring of the slowly rising sun, it was breathtaking. The water was crystal clear, nearly mirror like. A crust of ice had formed a few feet from the shore toward the center, and Yoongi assumed it would nearly encompass the lake within a few days if the snowfall kept up.

“You should probably get out first,” Jimin mumbled, pulling Yoongi out of his admiration of the scenery. He yanked open the door and climbed out, his left arm trailing back as he waited for Jimin to climb out behind him.

This was going to be dreadful. Everything would need to be done at a snail’s pace, compared to his normal speed, having the human hanging off his wrist.

Hoseok came around the side of the car, stopping short. His eyes drifted down to the cuffs connecting their wrists. Yoongi opened his mouth, about to warn or threaten the seal shifter away from a tease, when Hoseok began to laugh, nearly doubling over in pure joy at the predicament the two had found themselves in.

Jimin sighed heavily. “Lay off, Hobi,” he said, speaking loudly enough to be heard over Hoseok’s cackling.

Hoseok righted himself, still holding his stomach and wiping tears. He shook his head, small titters of laughter emerging even as he tried to contain them.

“What a situation, eh?”

“It’s not funny,” Jimin stepped forward. “This isn’t fun for us. The least you could do is not laugh at us.”

“Oh come on, you won’t mind it all that much,” Hoseok slapped Jimin on the shoulder. “God knows you’ve been fond of living dead boy for ages.”

Yoongi looked over fast enough to see Jimin’s eyes bulge. He swiped at Hoseok with his free left, baring his teeth in the universal sign for ‘shut it’.

Fond of the living dead boy? Well the only undead here was Yoongi… But Jimin wasn’t fond of him. Jimin could barely tolerate him, in the same way he could barely tolerate Jimin…. Right?

“Let’s just unpack the stuff,” Jimin said quickly. He turned to circle around the car, jerking Yoongi’s arm.

Yoongi glared, and Jimin winced. “Sorry. This is… Taking some getting used to.”

“Why don’t we take out the luggage,” Jungkook offered. He and Jin had come around behind Hoseok. “You two go relax.”

“When you pull out the cooler, I need to get a bag. I’m starving,” Yoongi said. He stepped up to Jimin and looked at him numbly. “You need to walk now too.” He tried to sound patronizing, but it came off as far more gentle than he intended.

Jimin obeyed, walking with Yoongi toward the cabin. Yoongi could feel him shiver, and scowled.

“You shouldn’t have worn shorts,” he scolded with no venom, pulling open the cabin door. “You knew it was snowy.”

“I didn’t figure I’d be outside much without Jungkook,” Jimin said, entering. He headed immediately toward the fireplace, once more yanking Yoongi, who’d stayed behind to shut the door. Yoongi hissed, baring his fangs.

“Would you stop that?!”

“I’m sorry!” Jimin snapped back. “This is an adjustment for us both. Stop yelling at me and learn to work with me, dammit.”

Yoongi smirked. That was the Jimin he knew better.

“Now,” Jimin continued before Yoongi could speak. “I’m cold. I want to go sit by the fire and warm up. Is that okay?”

“Fine.” Yoongi nodded. He walked with Jimin toward the fire, taking a seat on the ground with him. Jimin wrapped one arm around his knees, resting his chin on them. He let his other arm hang outward awkwardly, trying not to disturb Yoongi’s positioning.

Yoongi frowned. “You can put your arm down, it’s okay.” He tugged lightly as he spoke, setting his arm on his leg. Jimin let his arm drop to the ground. He continued to stare at the fire. Yoongi took the opportunity to look openly at the human. He really was quite striking; neatly sculpted brows and soft, plush lips, a gentle, sloping jawline that had just enough definition to trace. Light shadow and contour decorated his nearly flawless skin; Yoongi knew he spent quite a good chunk of time perfecting a casual makeup look despite not needing it. He must have touched up during their last rest stop. A simple earring – some dangling gold chain, sprinkled with tiny gems on each link. And – despite a two-day drive – smooth, perfect hair, shaggy enough to fall over his brows, but currently brushed back from Jimin’s own nervous twitch of carding his fingers through his locks. His throat was smooth – and Yoongi could trace the patterns of his strong veins and along the curve of his neck. How soft the skin looked behind his ear, how strong and dark that one particular vein looked…

Yoongi’s fangs poked his bottom lip, snapping him out of whatever fantasy he’d fallen into. He drew in a sharp breath and straightened up, drawing Jimin’s attention.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Yoongi mumbled, covering his mouth.

“Something wrong? Do you feel sick?” Jimin paused. “Can vampires puke?”

“We can,” Yoongi mumbled. “But I don’t feel sick.”

“Oh.” Jimin gasped then. “Oh!”

“What’s that oh for,” Yoongi mocked, glaring over at him.

“Are you hungry? Your voice is muffled – your fangs. We should see if Jungkook has grabbed your cooler yet.”

Jimin rose into a crouch. “Come on.”

“You can’t go back out in shorts,” Yoongi argued, letting his hand drop. He saw Jimin’s gaze drop to his mouth, where his canines poked from his top lip. He had always hated his fangs – their size was almost comical in his small mouth. Jimin’s heartrate picked up.

“I’m not going to bite you.”

“I trust you. I’ve just never been so close when you’ve had them out,” Jimin confessed. “They’re… Big.”

“All the better to eat you with, as the big bad wolf would say.” Yoongi hissed, but Jimin only laughed.

“That’s our Jungkook. You’re a little less intimidating.”

“How is a vampire less intimidating than an overgrown puppy dog?” Yoongi asked, offended.

“Because you won’t hurt me. Jungkook could hurt me accidentally just jumping on me too hard when he gets excited. He forgets his own strength. You’ve had years to practice control.”

“How do you know I won’t hurt you? I eat your species.”

“You drink human blood. But I know damn well that doesn’t mean you eat or even hurt humans. You drink bagged blood.”

“Oh, do you think they had easily accessible bagged blood when I first turned? So, what, that I woke from my grave and trotted to the local monster shop and ordered a pint of A positive over a sundae? No. I woke up and I ripped out the throat of the nearest human I could find.”

“You were newly turned. You were ravenous. Nobody would blame a hungry bear for attacking.”

“Oh, so I’m nothing more than an animal to you?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I’m on your side, Yoongi, when will you see that?”

“Do you know how to kill a vampire, Jimin?”

Jimin seemed to freeze at that, his lips parted just a bit. He looked over at Yoongi, who sat still, waiting.

“I—”

“Answer me honestly. Do you know how to kill a vampire?”

Jimin hung his head. “Yes, I do.”

“Not so easy, is it?” Yoongi pressed. “Not like the movies. A stake to the heart, sunlight. We don’t die easy, do we, Jimin?”

Jimin shifted, pulling his knees tighter to his chest. “It’s horrible,” he choked.

“Oh, is it? Have you seen it done?”

“Yes.”

“And did you have any part in it?”

Jimin looked over. “My father brought me hunting on my sixteenth birthday. It was his gift to me. He handed me a knife, and he told me that I was going to become a man.”

“I bet he did.” Yoongi looked away.

“She only looked about twenty,” Jimin continued, staring at the fire. “Gorgeous, honestly. Her eyes were big and dark, and her hair was long – it looked so soft. I was meant to be the bait. I was so scared, when I went up to her in the cafe. I grew up hearing the tales about how even the smell of a human could make a vampire go crazy. I thought for sure she’d try to rip my throat out.”

“What happened?” Yoongi asked. He looked over at Jimin. He wasn’t sure why he asked. He knew what happened. She died. And Jimin and his father killed her. Maybe a sick pleasure, knowing firsthand how brutal the human attached to his wrist was. Jimin continued to stare at the fire.

“She bought me a fucking soda. To this day, Cherry Coke makes me nauseous. She bought me a soda and she talked to me while I drank it. She offered to walk me home, because it was getting late. So, I let her. I figured now. Here is where she’ll try to rip my throat out. Dig her claws into me and show me her fangs and hurt me.”

“And did she?”

“No.” Jimin swallowed hard. “She walked me almost all the way home, polite as can be, when my father came up to us. She knew, I think. When she saw him – what he was. She looked so… Scared. She tried to run. Not attack – run.

I stepped between her and my father. I knew it was wrong, right then. But he shoved me down and told me I was a disappointment. That he’d give me one more chance. And then he caught her. She was fast but he… He had a bow. It was dipped in –”

“I know. A paralyzing agent.”

“Yeah. She went down and he caught her and dragged her back to me. She was pleading for her life. Swore she didn’t eat humans. He didn’t listen. He grabbed me and he dragged us both into the woods where he’d set up his work space. Tied her down to a bench… And told me to start cutting.”

Yoongi’s stomach lurched. He wanted to scream, to run, to strike. He looked over at Jimin, ready to snap a cruel comment, but froze. Jimin was still staring at the fire. But as Yoongi watched, he saw wet streaks running down Jimin’s cheek. He was crying.

“I told him no,” Jimin choked. “I told him I couldn’t. She wasn’t a danger. She was nice.” Jimin sniffled. “He hit me. And he shoved me against a tree. And he told me if I was too big of a pansy to do it, I could watch it.”

Jimin wiped his cheeks with his free hand. He sniffled again and looked over at Yoongi. “The night of my sixteenth birthday I watched him cut her to pieces with a knife. The sound of her flesh and muscles tearing still haunts me. I tried to stop him over and over, and all he did was push me back. Hit me. Tell me to man up. Remind me of how monstrous your kind is. And then he handed me the matches. To burn her body. I threw them into the woods and I ran.”

Jimin smiled weakly. “The fact that I couldn’t save Siyeon still haunts me.”

“What happened after?” Yoongi asked.

“I got a bus ticket to Seoul. And I found a nice couple that took me in. Let me finish school, gave me a space to hide. They were vampires, Yoongi. Ages sixteen and seventeen, I lived with vampires – and I thought of them as parents. A—” Jimin swallowed hard. “And then my actual parents found me. And I watched… Once more… The brutality of hunting your kind. And once again I couldn’t save them. I was too weak. But I disowned my parents at that very moment. I told them I supported vampires and I would never pick up a weapon against them. And that I wasn’t their son anymore. Oh… They thought I’d been turned, even tried to prove it. For two weeks they waited for my fangs to come out. And when they didn’t… They left me. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

Yoongi remained silent, unsure how to respond. Part of him wanted to pop off with something smart and sassy – but he could feel the waves of emotion coming from Jimin. His story wasn’t a lie to gain sympathy. He believed what he was saying. So Yoongi said nothing.

Jimin looked over. Despite his eyes, red rimmed from the tears that streaked his cheeks, he was still stunning. “I’ve never told anybody the whole truth. Not even Jungkook knows.”

“Why?” Yoongi asked. His mouth had gone strangely dry.

“Because it’s not something I like to relive. It’s not something I want people to know. How weak I was. How helpless… To save them.”

“Hunters are brutal,” Yoongi said. He shrugged. “If you’d done more to interfere… Parents or not, I don’t know that you’d be here now.”

“Probably not. My father always said I was too weak to be his. So that’s my story, Yoongi. That’s why I’m here, living with Jin and Jungkook and you.”

“Why did you tell me? We aren’t friends. We aren’t even that close.”

“Well, for the next two weeks – maybe three – we’re literally stuck together. I know you hate me. And that’s fine, I get it. But I wanted you to know what really happened.”

Yoongi opened his mouth to respond when the door burst open. Jungkook entered, lugging the cooler that housed Yoongi’s meals for the next few weeks. “That snow is intense,” Jungkook commented, shaking the snow from his shaggy brown hair like cold dandruff.

“It is,” Jin agreed, lugging in a pile of bags. Hoseok followed after and kicked the door shut, his own arms full of bags.

“You three are gonna be out here at least three weeks based on this – it’s cold enough in these mountains that we don’t melt fast.”

“Will you have enough food?” Jin worried, looking at Yoongi. He nodded.

“The supply I gave you to put in there should last comfortably two and a half, and I can go without for about a week without losing my mind, so I’ll just space the bags out. Would you put it in the snow outside though? The ice is probably melted by now so you’ll wanna keep it cold. And I don’t think Hoseok wants gallons of blood in his fridge.”

“Rather not,” Hoseok agreed, padding past them into a bedroom with some of the bags. “So Jin will sleep with me, and I did have two rooms set up for you and Jimin, but seeing as you’re sharing,” he smirked at them from around the door, “Jungkook can take the extra room as needed.”

“Do you wanna get some?” Jimin asked. Yoongi looked away from the cooler and nodded. “Yeah, a little.”

“Let’s go. Jungkook, hold on a sec,” Jimin called. He and Yoongi rose and headed over. Jungkook turned around, setting the cooler on the ground with a thud.

Yoongi crouched and opened it, scowling. Inside – rather than his pint bags of blood, floating in a pool of water, he saw nothing but vacuum sealed packages of… Meat.

“Jungkook…”

Yoongi reached in, pawing through the meat. Jimin crouched with him, reaching in as well.

“Jungkook, you didn’t—” Jimin whispered. Jungkook looked down. His eyes bulged.

“No—Oh no.” He sank down next to the others and began yanking the meat packages out. “No, no… Jin!” Jungkook whipped around. “You grabbed the wrong cooler!”

Jin turned from where he’d been talking with Hoseok, his smile slowly fading. “No – The red one. Yoongi said the blood was in the red one by the window.”

“The living room window, Jin,” Yoongi hissed.

“My meats – My dried and cured meats – they were in the other red cooler by the kitchen window,” Jungkook said, holding up one of the bags.

Jin’s smile disappeared completely. “Oh no,” he whispered. He looked at Yoongi. “We have to go back down.”

“You can’t,” Hoseok said, grabbing Jin’s arm. “Look at that snowfall. You’d wreck in a heartbeat.”

“He can’t go without food, Hobi,” Jin cried.

“I’ll be okay,” Yoongi said. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he would. The very thought of starving sent a chill down his spine. He knew what happened to vampires who were too deeply starved.

“I can head down the mountain,” he suggested.

“You’d freeze to death,” Jimin argued.

“I’m already dead.”

“You’d still never make it. Dead and immortal doesn’t make you immune to dying in other ways. And freezing solid and shattering is a pretty shitty way to go.”

“Jimin,” Yoongi said softly. “You know better than anyone…”

“We might not be up here three weeks. Maybe the snow will melt faster, and we can get you back to the city.”

“Can’t you eat an animal?” Hoseok offered. “Surely Jungkook could catch something—”

“I can’t drink animal blood. Old vampire myth to make us seem less scary. It makes us very sick. Monster blood is worse, so don’t get any ideas there either.”

“But you drink human blood,” Jimin said softly.

“From a bag.” Yoongi looked over as he spoke, his voice firm. He hated the way Jimin was looking at him. “I’m not even that hungry right now. Jungkook…” He looked to Jungkook, who looked close to tears himself. “I promise I won’t fight with Jimin. Would you please unhandcuff us?”

“Well that takes the fun out of it,” Jungkook pouted.

“Jungkook… You need to uncuff me from him.”

Jungkook scowled at that, looking between Jimin and Yoongi. “But—”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi strained. “I am a vampire. Who is in an isolated cabin with no food. Potentially for multiple weeks. You need to uncuff me from this human.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened a little as the pieces seemed to fall into place. “Oh God, of course. Right, hold on.” He scrambled to his feet and rushed to where his bags were, beginning to dig around in one. “Yoongi…” Jimin reached over, setting his free hand on Yoongi’s upper arm. “You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

“Jimin—”

“I was going to offer anyways. You know… If you were hungry…”

“Don’t.”

The small smile that had been curving Jimin’s mouth disappeared immediately at Yoongi’s tone. Yoongi looked away, hating the way his heart did a little flip at the idea. Sinking his fangs into Jimin’s smooth neck… Tasting that sweet blood… Hearing Jimin’s breath pick up… Yoongi shook his head slightly to knock the image from his mind. He was supposed to hate the stupid human, not want to feed off him.

He hadn’t bitten a living human since he was turned. The shame he felt even now, after all these years, when he thought about what he did when he first turned… Once he was in his right mind he swore he’d rather die than feed from a living human. And he’d kept that promise to himself all these years. Easily, really. Even when blood was hard to come by – the simple thought of feeding on a person was enough to turn his stomach.

So then why did his mind keep drifting to Jimin? The way his veins painted delicate, abstract art on his neck… The sweet, rich scent of his life fluid just… There, right under the surface. The way it made Yoongi’s mouth water, his fangs slipping down, his own pulse – slow and lethargic most of the time – picking up like a horny schoolboy…

“Jungkook,” Yoongi snapped. Jungkook looked up from where he was digging in a second bag. His hair was plastered over his forehead, a look of desperation in his eyes.

“Still looking, it’s a small key. Give me just one more minute, no worries,” he said. Though, any monster in the room could hear his panic… There was a definite need to worry.

“What if we drove down slow?” Jin offered. “You and me could go, Yoongi. You won’t bite me, and even if you get… very hungry—”

Yoongi nodded. “That could work… But if the car gets stuck, you’ll die a hell of a lot faster than I will. It’d be safer for me to creep down on my own.”

“Except the the gas station on the way up the mountain will be closed and you’ll use far more than usual creeping. You’d be on empty long before you get to civilization,” Hoseok argued. “Not to mention, when you get around people again, then what? You eat the first one you see?”

“Hey!” Jimin’s sharp tone surprised Yoongi. He looked over.

“He’s not going to go feral.”

“Jimin…”

“You won’t. You guys keep talking like you have no food.” Jimin tilted his head a little, exposing his neck. “Hate me or not, I’m still a perfectly viable meal. And you can easily feed from me without hurting me. I know you can control yourself.”

“No.” Yoongi shook his head. “I won’t eat live meals.”

“You’re not eating me. You can just drink a little… Every few days, just enough to take the edge off.”

Yoongi scooted back as far as he could, his arm jerking forward with the cuffs. “Jungkook!” He snapped.

Jungkook made a small noise and flopped back on his butt. “I can’t find it.”

“Can’t find the key?!” Yoongi cried. He rose, grabbing Jimin’s wrist and lifting him up easily to drag him over. He sank down in front of Jungkook’s bags, beginning to dig through the piles.

“I’ve looked three times now,” Jungkook said softly, looking near tears. “I can’t find them. I—I must have lost it or left it at home or… Something.”

“Then we pick it!” Yoongi said. He looked to Jin and Hoseok. “Pick it for us.”

“I can’t pick locks,” Hoseok chuckled. “You have far too much faith in me.” “I could try,” Jin said, “but I’m not very good.”

“I don’t care. We have time.”

“Yoongi,” Jimin tried as Yoongi hauled him up once more, dragging him over to where Jin stood.

“Why aren’t you more panicked?” Yoongi asked, seeing Jimin looking incredibly calm… And a little sad.

“Because there isn’t a reason to panic.”

“You’re tied to a thing that fucking eats you.”

“Who I’ve already offered my neck to and he won’t bite. Literally. Yoongi, I’m not scared of you. I’ve said it once and it still stands. I would, however, like you to stop hauling me around like I’m luggage. I can walk. And while I enjoy being manhandled at times, we are both far too clothed for the type I enjoy.” Jimin tugged their cuffed wrists for emphasis.

A series of titters erupted from the other three in the room, and Yoongi scowled. “You crack jokes as if this isn’t serious.”

“Just lightening the mood.” Jimin shrugged.

“As if you’d be able to handle me in bed anyways. Or would want to.”

Jimin shrugged. “Says you.” He looked to Jin. “Wanna try to pick it?”

“Sure. Do you have something I can use, Hobi?”

“Lemme look.” Hoseok headed around the counter into the kitchen and began digging through the drawers.

“Go sit down,” Jin said. “It’ll be easier.”

Yoongi moved to walk, but stopped. He motioned for Jimin to lead the way, feeling a little guilty for dragging him around. It wasn’t his fault they were in this situation, after all. And yeah, Yoongi thought as he walked with Jimin and settled onto the couch with him, after learning the truth… Maybe he was beginning to feel some sympathy for the human. Not that they could ever realistically be friends. They couldn’t stand each other. Jimin was scared of him, or hated him… And he disliked the human. It was just how it was… Or how it should be. But maybe, now that Jimin had shared something with Yoongi about his history, they could at least become tolerant of one another.

Yoongi tried to pretend Jimin wasn’t sitting far too close to him. He wasn’t all that hungry. He’d gone about twelve days without food before, and it was uncomfortable, but he wasn’t feral. So, there was no real reason why he couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than Jimin’s pulse. His infuriatingly slow pulse. How could someone so soft and breakable be so calm hanging off the arm of a predator? And so eager to offer his throat?

Jin came around with a handful of slender items. He crouched, grabbing the cuffs and beginning to try the different things. Brows furrowed, Yoongi could tell he was trying. But as the minutes passed, the pile of untried items grew smaller, and the pile of useless, bent, or broken items got larger and larger.

Jin sighed, picking up a steak knife – the last item in his pile. “There’s no way,” he said.

“Just try it,” Yoongi mumbled. He knew Jin was right, no way would a steak knife open the cuffs. Jin did as he said, jabbing at the hole in the cuffs, trying to get it to release. Nearly a minute of fiddling, and he finally sat back, shaking his head no. “I’m sorry guys, I can’t.”

“It’s okay,” Jimin said. “You tried.”

Yoongi grabbed his cuff and yanked, grimacing when it tugged the skin of his hand. “Did you have to make it so tight?” He growled at Jungkook.

“I wanted to make sure you couldn’t pull it off,” Jungkook said. He came around the side of the couch, looking sheepish. “I know I have a spare key for it… It’s just in my room.”

“Well that won’t do any good up here!” Yoongi snapped. Jungkook flinched, his eyes widening a little.

Yoongi took a steadying breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s my fault. I deserve it.”

“No… You were trying to make us get along. It would have been funny, honestly, if things didn’t turn out like this,” Yoongi said. There is a final option… I just would like to not have to try it until things get… Bad.”

“What are you thinking of, Yoongi?” Jin asked, trepidation clear in his tone.

“Hoseok has a wood stove. A fireplace. Which means he has an axe.”

“No.” Both Jimin and Jungkook spoke in unison. “We’re not cutting any body parts off.”

“Well if I go feral and am still attached to Jimin, you’ll be doing a lot more than cutting off something. You’ll have to put me down.”

“You aren’t a dog!” Jimin cried. “If it gets to that point, we can just dislocate my thumb. It’ll hurt like a mother but the cuffs can come off. But you could prevent getting to that point if you’d just drink from me.”

“I will not let you hurt yourself for my sake,” Yoongi argued.

“Why not? You hate me, don’t you? A stupid hunter’s son.” Yoongi should have said yes. His brain told him that he should say yes. Yet the word wouldn’t come out. Instead, he just shook his head, looking down. “I just won’t let you,” he muttered.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Jin said. He rose, setting his hands on their shoulders. “Come on. This is a setback, but we’re still up here, let’s try to have a good time, right?”

Yoongi smiled softly, nodding. “You’re right. Hobi, how long until the lake freezes over completely do you think?”

“A day or two, why?”

“I know Jungkook’s been dying to take a swim in ice water. Mostly because he’s a lunatic. Want to?”

Hoseok grinned brightly. “I’d love to. You know me, never turn down water.”

“What about you?” Jin asked. He looked at Jimin. “He won’t have the same tolerance to cold…”

Yoongi glanced at Jimin, who’s smile - which had grown at the mention of a cold swim, was sinking.

“Yeah, maybe not, but I don’t much like the cold either. I’m sure I’ll be ready to be done when he is. We can still have fun. I won’t let you drown.”

Jimin looked at him, that sweet smile returning. He nodded. “Deal.”

Yoongi regretted that deal the second they hit the water. Not at any fault of Jimin’s, oh no. But more because Yoongi had forgotten just how much he hated the cold. He was shuddering nearly instantly. Jimin laughed brightly next to him, a high, tinkling sound on the cool wind. Yoongi looked over. Jimin was shivering just as hard as he was.

“This can’t be safe for humans,” Yoongi worried.

“A few minutes is fine. It’s good for the body,” Jimin assured him. “Can we go deeper? I wanna try to get to where Jungkook is.”

Yoongi looked across the lake. About fifteen feet ahead, closer to the center of the unfrozen part of the water, were their three friends. They’d jumped in as humans – but now Yoongi could see a wolf, a fox with many tails, and a seal, all bobbing along the water.

“We’ll try – but remember they are all furred animals. You may not make it that far.”

“I still wanna try.”

Yoongi nodded. He and Jimin set off carefully, their swimming motions needing to be perfectly aligned due to the cuffs. They made it nearly as far as Jungkook when Jimin whined softly. Yoongi glanced over, concern furrowing his brows. Jimin was shivering less, but his arms were covered in gooseflesh, and his lips were turning a startling shade of purple-blue.

“We need to go back,” Yoongi said.

Jimin nodded, not bothering to argue.

“Can you make it?”

“I c—can t-t-t-try,” Jimin chattered.

“Ah, you soft humans,” Yoongi teased with no real venom. He got them turned around. “Here, go over my head so you’re hooked around my shoulders.” He brought the hand with the cuff across his chest. Jimin moved his arm over Yoongi’s head, dropping it against his back.

“Good, try to help me paddle a bit with your free hand okay? And kick some.”

Jimin nodded. Yoongi could barely feel heat from his skin despite their closeness; a rather concerning feeling. He swam them back as quick as he could manage, Jimin doing his best to help. When they reached the ice patch, Yoongi moved to dislodge himself from Jimin’s arm. “Okay, get out.”

Jimin nodded. He braced his hands on the ice and hoisted himself out, spinning around and crouching as he helped Yoongi up and out.

Unfortunately – their wet skin on the ice did nothing in terms of support, and as soon as Yoongi was out of the water, a single step sent them both flying. Yoongi landed on top of Jimin, clearly knocking the breath from his chest. Snow that had puffed up around them in the fall now drifted down, speckling Jimin’s face like glitter. They laid nose to nose for a moment, Jimin’s eyes wide as he looked up at Yoongi.

“I—”

“Sorry,” Yoongi whispered, though he couldn’t bring himself to move. Not because of the ice… But mostly because Jimin felt so good under him.

“It’s okay,” Jimin breathed. His eyes darted down to Yoongi’s mouth, and Yoongi froze. Was he about to kiss him? He jerked back, panic bubbling up in his chest. This was all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be okay with that idea. Carefully, he moved off Jimin and rose, helping Jimin to his feet. Jimin clung to him, shivering harder than ever.

They entered the cabin. “You should strip,” he said.

“S—” Jimin’s eyes bulged.

“As we melt we’re gonna soak the floor. And it’ll be easier to warm up if you’re in just a pair of dry pants than if you’re in soaking wet clothes.

“Right…” Jimin glanced down. “Shit.”

“What?”

“The cuffs. How am I gonna get my shirt off with the cuffs?”

Yoongi looked down as well. He swore under his breath, glaring in the general direction of the lake. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Jimin laughed a little. “Didn’t think that one through, did he?”

“Let’s get to the bathroom. We’re dripping.” Yoongi led him through the cabin into the bathroom. He guided Jimin into the tub. “Okay, so we could cut them off, but then we’d be shirtless for the next three weeks and I’d like to go outside at some point, so…”

“Yeah, no.” Jimin tapped his chin in thought. “What about just letting them hang over the cuff chain to dry? If we set a towel under them, squeeze them out as much as we can here, they should dry in front of the fire too, and we can put them back on?”

Yoongi thought for a moment, his eyes darting from Jimin to their cuffs as he tried to determine if it would succeed. Finally, he nodded. “I think that’ll work. Try it?”

Jimin nodded. He pulled his left arm free, apologizing softly when he tugged Yoongi over so his right hand could be used. Over the head, over his right arm, it dangled on the chain, as predicted, dripping into the tub.

“Perfect!” Jimin said.

Yoongi nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was nodding about though, as he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from Jimin’s bare chest. Though Jimin was slender, under his clothes he was very clearly hiding a lot. A toned chest and firm muscles, the cold water had tightened his dusky nipples to hard little points. His belly was slim, with the faint outlines of muscles that Yoongi knew were probably far tighter than a quick glance. And his hips – cut almost ridiculously perfect into a v shape, visible over the top of his waistband. Though he was clothed from the bottom down, Yoongi could imagine very clearly where that v pointed.

“Yoongi?” Jimin’s voice drew him out of his staring. He looked up, clearing his throat. “Right. Perfect. I’ll do mine.” Yoongi moved a little quicker, yanking his off and adding it to Jimin’s dangling from the chain. After seeing Jimin, he felt a little self-conscious. Though strong – it was all his inhuman nature; he was far less fit and chiseled than the human.

“We should wring them out now.” Yoongi grabbed his own shirt and began to ring it out, twisting it this way and that to get as much water out as he could. Jimin did the same, the water splashing between them like a mini waterfall.

“Great,” Jimin said when they could wring no more water from the shirts. He moved to step out, but Yoongi grabbed his wrist. “Shorts and shoes too – you’ll drip everywhere.”

“Oh—” Jimin hesitated, looking down and then up at Yoongi. “Uh… Naked?” He squeaked.

“Well, yeah.” Yoongi chuckled. “What, you shy about something?”

Jimin looked away, his cheeks pinking up delightfully. “Well, no, I just…”

Yoongi sighed and grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. He turned away from Jimin as well as he could and hung it over his shoulder. “Here, just change and wrap it around your waist. I won’t look.”

He heard a shuffle and felt a tug on his wrist. He was distinctly aware of the fact that if he shifted his right hand at all he would likely be brushing against Jimin’s bare skin. His wrist was pulld again, and this time he felt a towel skim past his fingers.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“Alright, I’m taking mine off now,” Yoongi said. He pulled his hand back, quickly tugging his shoes, socks, jeans, and boxers off. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his own waist.

“Okay, come on.” They stepped out of the bathtub and walked into the room where their bags had been dropped, the wet clothes dangling awkwardly between them. Yoongi let Jimin grab clothes first, looking away politely while he pulled on sweats. He pulled on his own sweats and handed Jimin their towels. Out into the living room, he grabbed a blanket from the chair as they settled onto the loveseat nearest to the fire. He slung the blanket over their shoulders.

“The wet—” Jimin began. “I know, here, just wrap them up with the towels.” They worked together with surprising efficiency to wrap the clothes. Jimin relaxed a bit, pressing closer to Yoongi to get further under the blanket as they sat.

Jimin’s body was warming quickly, radiating heat into his own normally barely lukewarm bones. It was… Comfortable, if Yoongi was being honest. Yoongi felt his head drooping, soothed by the sounds of the fire and the warmth. Jimin shifted, snuggling next to him and resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi quirked his brow, peeking around Jimin’s head. Sure enough, the human was sleeping. Yoongi smiled a little. Yeah, Jimin wasn’t so bad, maybe…

Yoongi was amazed at how much he could simultaneously adore and hate a singular person. If Jungkook hadn’t been a werewolf, Yoongi may have considered feeding on him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t have heard that right.” Yoongi repeated for the second time, staring at Jungkook in the dark bedroom. Jungkook pouted, his bottom lip sticking out and making him look far younger than his twenty-three years would imply.

“I said I’m bored.”

“And you proceeded to grab my dick.”

“Well, what better way to solve boredom?”

“Jungkook, we’re cuffed.”

“Which makes it less sexy how?”

Yoongi’s face remained stoic. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jungkook. I’m still upset with you.”

“For what?!” Jungkook cried, seemingly offended that Yoongi would dare.

Yoongi blinked at him before lifting the cuffs, inadvertently dragging Jimin’s arm up and making Jungkook’s head hit the pillow where he’d been cuddling between the two of them. He gave it a shake.

“Also for losing the key. And for whatever other harebrained ideas you get while we’re up here.”

Jungkook’s pout returned full force. “Well fine. Your loss.”

“My loss?”

“Jimin will keep me company, right?” Jungkook turned to look at Jimin, his grin broadening.

“I—I can’t say no,” Jimin mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry Yoongi.”

Yoongi gaped at Jimin.

“So what, you two are just gonna fuck next to me? Could you be any more obscene?”

“Oh it’s not like you’ve not seen it before, you prude.”

“I haven’t! Not with Jimin.”

“Just go to sleep then.” Jungkook stuck his tongue out at Yoongi. He rolled over, facing away from Yoongi. A shift on the bed, and Yoongi heard the soft sounds of kissing. He scowled at them for a moment. He hated the way his stomach was making those nasty little knots, the way he wanted to reach out and card his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, pull him back from Jimin and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe. Hated the way he wanted to feel Jimin’s mouth too. Sink into his tight heat and find out if his moans were as pretty as his laugh. The days spent cuffed together had done a number on Yoongi. More and more he found himself enjoying Jimin’s company, laughing with him, conversing with him willingly. And more and more he found himself staring at him, wondering more about him, noticing his subtle (and obvious) beauty.

Yoongi shut his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of their kissing, the soft breathy sighs from them, and the shift of fabric as they moved together, slowly stripping.

It worked, for a while. Yoongi managed to remain feigning sleep (how could he actually sleep?) through Jungkook very clearly giving Jimin some amazing oral sex, and through Jungkook prepping Jimin’s soft body for sex. He even managed to feign sleep when Jungkook slid into Jimin, but felt Jimin’s hand grab his own for the briefest second, paired with a sharp, pleasured cry from the human.

But Yoongi’s strength only went so far. He could feel a stirring in his groin as the bed shifted rhythmically, hearing the slick sounds of their skin slapping together as Jungkook thrust into him, their muffled panting.

He opened his eyes the tiniest bit. They wouldn’t notice, not so caught up in their lovemaking. Jimin was covering his mouth with his free hand, muffling his soft whines as Jungkook thrust into him.

From his viewpoint, Yoongi could see Jimin’s hips bent up, his cock hard and leaking onto his belly. Jungkook reached up, pinching Jimin’s nipple and tugging. Jimin moaned, shoving his head back into the pillow and grabbing the sheet. “Jungkook—“ he whined, strained.

Jungkook glanced over, catching Yoongi’s gaze. Yoongi tried to shut his eyes, but knew it was too late. He glanced again, seeing Jungkook lean down. He was whispering, but Yoongi heard it clear as day.

“He’s watching us,” he whispered, “and you’re making him hard.”

Jimin looked over. Yoongi met his gaze openly, wetting his lips. Jungkook wasn’t wrong, his cock was hard in his sweats, pushing up the blanket a little. Yoongi reached down, palming himself as he watched Jungkook make love to Jimin. He could feel his fangs poking his bottom lip, and knew as soon as he spoke they’d be just as obvious as his erection.

“Want me to take care of that?” Jungkook teased. “Or maybe you wanna see if Jimin feels as good as you think he might, hm?”

Yoongi swallowed hard. “Ride me, Jungkook,” he demanded.

Jungkook smirked. He pulled out of Jimin, his cock slick with lube. He pushed the blanket down and tugged Yoongi’s sweats around his ankles. He licked his lips, staring at Yoongi’s dick.

“Come suck him with me, Jimin.”

Jimin obeyed, sitting and moving down. He and Jungkook set to work immediately, dragging a surprised shout out of Yoongi. Their mouths were everywhere, tongues sliding over his sensitive cock, sharing kisses. Jungkook leaned back to grab lube and Jimin took advantage. He sank down on Yoongi, swallowing his cock to the root. Yoongi’s hips jerked up, his tip bumping Jimin’s throat. Jimin swallowed, looking up at him. He began to suck and lick, bobbing his head slow.

Yoongi grabbed his head, his lips parted. He began to guide his head, unable to tear his gaze away from Jimin’s mouth, his perfect lips sliding over his cock like silk.

“Amazing, isn’t he?” Jungkook purred. He was fingering himself open, watching the two. “I don’t know how many times I’ve come just from his mouth when I didn’t plan to.”

Yoongi wanted to answer, but all that came out was an incoherent moan. He had had a lot of blowjobs in his time but none like this. He fisted Jimin’s hair, tugging to pull him off. Jimin obeyed, moaning happily. His eyes rolled back when Yoongi pulled, cock jerking between his muscular thighs.

“Jungkook—” Yoongi strained. He let go of Jimin before he hurt him, grunting when Jimin immediately began to nuzzle and kiss over his thighs and hip.

“Aw, are you that close?” Jungkook teased, pressing kisses along Yoongi’s jaw. Yoongi nodded.

“You sure you don’t wanna see what he feels like? He’s so tight, and warm, and wet inside…”

Yoongi whimpered, looking down at Jimin. He bared his fangs almost instinctively, the sound of Jimin’s blood pumping nearly overwhelming him. Jimin’s breath caught audibly. He crawled up Yoongi’s body, until they were nearly nose to nose.

“You can,” he whispered. He straddled Yoongi’s hips, settling onto his crotch until Yoongi’s cock bumped his hole. “If you want to… And…” Jimin touched Yoongi’s chin, pulling his bottom lip. “This too…” He bared his neck, leaning closer to Yoongi.

Panic bubbled up in Yoongi’s chest when he realized he’d moved forward, mouth opening instinctively. He snapped his jaws shut hard enough to hurt, piercing his own bottom lip with his fangs.

“Jimin—” He gritted. “Get off me.”

Jimin sat back, disappointment clear on his face. He obeyed though, slinking off Yoongi’s hips and laying next to him.

“Yoongi—” Jungkook began.

“Don’t.”

“We don’t have to stop,” Jungkook continued anyways. “Let me finish you off. Or you can watch Jimin and I—”

Embarrassed, shameful tears burned the back of Yoongi’s throat. He closed his eyes, trying to stave them off as long as possible. And he was cuffed – he couldn’t even escape this horribly awkward situation.

“Just go back to what you were doing. I’m sorry I bothered you,” he mumbled. He sat up and yanked his sweats up one handed before rolling to his side, facing away from the two. His cuffed arm twisted back uncomfortably, but he ignored it. He deserved a little discomfort… He nearly bit Jimin – and for what? A fucking orgasm. Nearly broke his vow with a moment of sex. Shame colored his cheeks as he glared at the door.

“Jungkook—” Jimin’s voice was barely above a breath.

“It’s not you,” Jungkook assured him. He had to know Yoongi could hear them. No way to prevent it – his headphones were in the other room.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know, baby. He’s just scared. He’s…” Jungkook drifted off. “He isn’t mad at you.”

“Do you still want me to…”

“Are you still in the mood?”

Jimin chuckled. “I can get into the mood again.”

“No.” Yoongi heard them kiss. “I’m not into it either. I feel bad. I pushed you guys into it. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Guilt clenched Yoongi’s heart. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t Jimin’s either. It was Yoongi’s. He wished he had the nerve to roll back over, to apologize and tell them they were okay, but he couldn’t. So, he laid still, staring at the door as he listened to them pull on their shorts and cuddle, sharing quiet kisses as their breath evened out and they drifted to sleep.

They didn’t talk about it the next morning, or the morning after, or the day after that. In fact, Jungkook and Jimin didn’t bring up that night for the remainder of the week, or the following week. Yoongi was relieved, but also… A little stung. He had wondered if maybe they would want to talk about it, bring it up in some way so he could assure them that it was him, not them. Specifically, not Jimin. But, as the days progressed, it seemed like things were no different, and Yoongi let the situation slip to the back of his mind. He had more pressing things to worry about anyways.

Like, for example, the fact that the snow was showing no signs of melting enough for any sort of safe moving off the mountain. And the fact that it was now day thirteen without blood and he was feeling the effects of hunger. And the fact that Jimin was still stuck to his arm and he smelled so damn delicious that he was fighting the urge to show fang every ten minutes.

And to top it all off, Jin and Jungkook had decided this afternoon was the perfect time to go for a run in the woods. And Hoseok, in his own infinite wisdom, decided to go find a patch of thin ice for a swim in his own animal form. Which left Jimin and Yoongi entirely alone.

Which wouldn’t have been so bad, really. They often spent time just sitting on the couch together, reading or listening to music, talking or just sitting, watching the fire in comfortable silence. Even after the incident in bed the week prior, this feeling of ease and comfort didn’t fade. If anything, it continued to grow.

“I wish you could’ve gone out with them,” Jimin said softly, gazing into the fire. Yoongi glanced up from his notebook.

“Hm?”

“Jin and Jungkook. I’m sure you wanted to run with them.”

“Nah, it’s too cold for me,” Yoongi said. “I’d rather chill with the fire.”

Jimin chuckled. You don’t need to be lazy for my sake.”

“Not for your sake,” Yoongi assured him. “I really j—” A sharp pang in his stomach cut Yoongi’s words off. He doubled over, his fangs slipping out as he cried out.

Jimin reached for him, grabbing his hand that was cuffed together. “Yoongi—”

Yoongi turned, baring his fangs and hissing, nearly catlike.

Instead of shying away, Jimin’s face drooped. “Oh, it’s getting bad, isn’t it?” He asked.

Yoongi dropped his head again, drawing in a deep breath. He felt like he was sweating despite an inability to do that for many years.

“I’m fine,” he huffed.

“No, you’re not. You look sick. And I know you’re in pain. Please, I know you’re scared of hurting me, Yoongi but… Please.”

“It’s more than a fear of hurting you,” Yoongi muttered. He sat upright, closing his eyes for a second as he waited for the pain and nausea to fade. When it did, he drew in another breath and nodded.

“Then what is it, Yoongi? Please trust me to understand.”

Yoongi hesitated. He sat back on the couch, considering. Jimin had shared his story… Maybe it was time for Yoongi to do the same. If they were to be… Friends.

“I was turned about sixty years ago. I was twenty-eight. I don’t know… If you know much about how vampires are turned?”

“Not the details, but I know it’s a big process, death and burying and a whole ordeal.”

“It is. And generally, usually… The one who turns the new vampire stays around, it’s like giving birth to a child when all is said and done.”

Jimin nodded in understanding. Yoongi hesitated, another wave of nausea slipping over him. He remained silent until it passed before continuing.

“I did not have that grand bringing into the world. I never met the person that turned me.”

Yoongi heard Jimin make a small, sympathetic noise. Though he would have normally made a snarky comment, he had to admit, at that moment… It felt kind of nice.

“So, I crawled out of my grave one night… I was… God, I was so hungry. The last thing I remembered was being grabbed, and a pain in my throat. And then… Just dizziness and then darkness. I was so confused and scared and… So hungry. So thirsty.”

Yoongi shuddered despite the warmth, his stomach knotting painfully again. He curled his knees up, grimacing.

“Yoongi,” Jimin whispered. He shifted their hands, holding Yoongi’s tightly. “I’m here.”

“Oh, I know… You smell so… Fucking good, I can’t even pretend you aren’t,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin giggled a little at that.

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Yoongi chuckled. The knots in his stomach released a little, allowing him to continue. “So I stumbled around the graveyard for a bit. I was looking for… Something, I didn’t know what at the time. And this young guy comes up. He was so handsome. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen. Dressed very poor. But he comes up to the gat of the graveyard and calls to me. I was so happy to see someone. Someone who could tell me what happened, or help me somehow. I ran up to him. I knew I must have looked horrid. I mean I just climbed out of my damn grave, but he barely blinked. He was instantly worried for me. Helped me find the entrance gate and started walking with me and checking on me as we headed toward the village for a doctor.

And then the hunger hit again. And it was so much stronger… God, it was like someone was hitting me in the face with every delicious food I’d ever eaten at once. My entire body and mind seemed to ignite. I couldn’t control myself. I can’t tell you exactly what I was thinking at that moment except feed.”

Yoongi hesitated once more. He swallowed hard, not due to his stomach, but due to the painful memories. Jimin moved closer to him, setting his other hand on Yoongi’s thigh. “I’m here,” he whispered again, his head nearly on Yoongi’s shoulder.

“I—I ripped his throat out, Jimin. God, I can still remember the sounds of him dying. The smells, the feeling of the blood and… The taste. The power. I was drunk on it.”

Yoongi paused as another wave of pain hit him, shivers running down his spine. “I came to my senses a few hours later. I was in the woods, covered in blood. Everything hit me then. What I was, what I did. I tried to kill myself. But it… It didn’t work. So instead I swore I’d never place my teeth on another living human. I didn’t care if I starved to death. I’d lock myself up in a cave and wait to die if the only other option was biting a person. Risking doing what I did to that boy… I have kept that vow for sixty years, Jimin. That’s why I won’t bite you.”

“I understand,” Jimin said softly. “I do. What you went through was traumatic. But Yoongi… You don’t have the option of locking yourself up in a cave right now.”

Yoongi closed his eyes. “I know.”

“So if you do reach that point… You will kill me.”

Yoongi grimaced. Jimin squeezed his hand tighter. “I would rather have you drink some now… When you can control yourself. When you can take care of me… When we can both feel good maybe… Than die that way. Because I know you’ll hate yourself afterward.”

“I’ll hate myself either way,” Yoongi whispered.

“Fine. But at least I’ll be around to help you let go of that hate this way. And so will Jungkook.” Jimin’s lips brushed over Yoongi’s cheek. “I keep thinking about last week. How good I felt on your lap… How nice it felt to see you relax. I am sorry I offered my neck, and not just my body… But I am offering both again.”

Yoongi looked over quickly. Jimin smiled softly. “Yoongi, please let me help you.”

“Help me?” Yoongi breathed. He could hear Jimin’s heartbeat, and smell his arousal. He chuckled. “You’re propositioning a hungry vampire to have sex with you.”

“I am. I’ve heard it makes the bite feel better. Do you… Want me? That night, I wasn’t sure. I felt like we pushed…”

“No, no, I wanted you that night.” Yoongi pressed his forehead against Jimin’s. “I still do. I don’t know what changed, I—I can’t stop thinking about you these days.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Yoongi,” Jimin confessed. “But you hated me for my parents…”

“I was wrong.”

“No. You just didn’t know. Now you do.”

“And I do like you. I… God, I fell for you.”

Jimin pulled back this time, his mouth quirking up into a grin. “You did?”

“I did,” Yoongi muttered. “Don’t let it go to your head.

“I won’t.” The two sat in silence. Yoongi’s shudders were coming more regularly, his body edging closer and closer to starvation, rather than hunger.

“Yoongi,” Jimin finally whispered. “Please take me to bed.”

Yoongi’s breath puffed out of his lungs. He nodded. Jimin rose and Yoongi let himself be pulled toward the bedroom. They were so used to the cuffs now that they moved as a unit, knowing how to twist and turn to move fluidly. It would be weird to have them off, Yoongi realized.

Once in the bedroom, Jimin turned, pulling his shirt off. He let it dangle from the chain and smiled shyly. “Do you… Want me to…”

“No,” Yoongi pulled his own shirt off. He stepped forward, going almost chest to chest with Jimin. “The last time we stripped… You made me look away when you took off your jeans… You gonna be shy on me again?”

Jimin laughed. “Not this time.”

“Good.” Yoongi undid Jimin’s jeans, pushing them to the ground for Jimin to step out of. He kicked his own sweats off, and then his boxers, before setting his hands on Jimin’s hips. He caught the band of his boxers. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sure.”

Yoongi pushed them down, stepping back to look Jimin up and down. He reached out with his free hand, palming Jimin’s cock. It twitched and hardened further in his palm, and he gave it a firm stroke. “I didn’t get a good look at you that night… I’m glad to now.”

“Like what you see?” Jimin asked. Yoongi nodded slowly. He let go of Jimin to cup his cheeks, pulling him into a sweet kiss, despite the fire raging in his veins. Jimin wrapped one arm around his shoulders, holding onto his wrist with the cuffed hand. They moved toward the bed in unison, and Jimin let himself fall back onto it. Yoongi went with him, nudging open his smooth thighs.

Jimin looked up at him, his lips wet and full from the kiss, his cheeks rosy with life. His eyes were dark, hair brushed back from his forehead.

“How do you—” Jimin swallowed. “Now? Or…” He touched his neck.

“Not quite yet,” Yoongi said. He reached over to where he knew Jungkook had stashed the lube, pulling the bottle out and opening it.

The two shared soft kisses while Yoongi prepped Jimin, determined not to hurt him any more than necessary. None – if he could have his way. He could smell Jimin’s blood so strongly, his teeth aching like a sweet tooth, mouth watering as they kissed. And Jimin – oh, the creature under him couldn’t be a human – Jimin had to be an imp. Playing with fire, Jimin would scrape his tongue over Yoongi’s fangs, sometimes almost hard enough to draw blood. Each time he did, his cock would jerk against Yoongi’s hip, and Yoongi would have to refrain from giving in and biting Jimin then and there.

He resisted by some miracle, however, and pulled back, lining himself up to Jimin’s body. “Are you ready?”

Jimin nodded, spreading his legs wider. Yoongi laid over him, bracing himself on the hand that was cuffed. Jimin twined their fingers together, meeting Yoongi’s gaze as Yoongi pushed into him for the first time.

Jimin’s lips parted, a sharp gasp breaking the silence of the room. Yoongi bared his fangs, his own vision going a little hazy at the tight heat of Jimin’s body.

“Yoongi…” Jimin’s voice was soft, muffled. Yoongi forced himself to focus, offering what he hoped was a comforting smile – though he knew the fangs probably made that difficult.

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.

“I know. It feels good,” Jimin assured him. He reached his free hand down, gripping Yoongi’s ass. “You can move. I want this.”

Yoongi nodded. He began to thrust at an even pace, mindful of not going too hard. Jimin moaned under him, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. Curious, Yoongi reached out, pinching his left nipple. Jimin shouted, gasping.

“Please—“

“Oh, you are sensitive,” Yoongi teased. “And responsive.”

He pinched again, this time tugging. Jimin shouted, squeezing Yoongi’s cock almost painfully tight. Yoongi continued to thrust, leaning down to gently suck and bite at each hard nub. As he did, he fisted Jimin’s cock, using his ample precome to jerk him in time to his own movements.

He was already so close, he wished it could last longer. He wanted to stay like this, hear Jimin’s sounds of pleasure, for eternity. He moved back up, nuzzling Jimin’s neck.

Jimin’s breath caught, his throat clicking. He let his head fall, baring his neck to Yoongi.

“Yes—“ He whispered. “Please, Yoongi… Do it…”

Yoongi pulled his cock free of Jimin’s hole, chuckling when Jimin whined.

“Don’t stop, please—“

Yoongi began to tease him, prodding and bumping his opening with his tip. Not enough to get any real stimulation, but feeling Jimin’s body open for him, so receptive - and the sounds of his voice as he begged for it… If Yoongi didn’t have other plans he may have come then and there.

He lined himself back up and nuzzled Jimin’s neck once more. A moment to steady himself, and then…

His teeth penetrated Jimin’s soft neck at the same moment he drove himself into Jimin’s body once more.

Jimin screamed, his free hand rising and scratching down Yoongi’s back. He began to pump his hips quickly, swallowing the sweet, hot blood that filled his mouth as he sucked. He ran his tongue over the puncture wounds, his saliva working to clot and slow the blood already so Jimin wouldn’t bleed too much.

Jimin’s entire body jerked, nearly dislodging his mouth. His release spilled, hot and sticky, between their stomachs as he moaned against Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Jesus— Yoongi!” Jungkook’s voice startled Yoongi. He felt Jungkook’s hand on the back of his neck, so he released, afraid he’d drunk too much. But Jimin was grinning brightly, looking all too fucked out.

“Hey Jungkook,” he signed, moaning softly when Yoongi thrust in.

Jungkook looked between the two, letting go of Yoongi’s neck.

“Oh.”

“Sorry we didn’t wait for you,” Jimin teased. “You should join us now.”

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, smiling softly. “I think I will.” He began to strip, grabbing the lube to ready himself.

Yoongi looked back down at Jimin, leaning down to lick a stray dribble of blood on his neck. He thrust in, and Jimin winced. He pushed Yoongi’s chest.

“Too sensitive after I come,” he whined. “Finish with Jungkook. Oh—“ He laughed into Yoongi’s mouth when Yoongi kissed him hard, gently pulling out. He flopped next to him, still holding his hand.

Jungkook straddled his hips, dick hard. He lifted Yoongi’s cock and settled onto it, both of them gasping. He began to ride him almost immediately, leaning down to kiss them both.

Jimin sat up, shifting over to begin sucking Jungkook’s cock as he moved, the soft wet noises punctuating the rougher ones.

Yoongi’s eyes went fuzzy as he watched the two, his toes curling against the mattress.

“I’m close,” he warned Jungkook, who only nodded. His fingers were buried in Jimin’s hair, guiding him along his length.

Jimin coughed and Jungkook grunted, his body shuddering and beginning to clench and relax - a sure sign of his release… Directly down Jimin’s eager throat if the soft gulping was any indication.

Yoongi moaned softly. The pressure around his cock and the absolutely stunning image in front of him became too much far too quickly. With a deep grunt, and a firm hand on Jungkook’s hip to hold him still, Yoongi came, spilling inside Jungkook.

The three ended up in a haphazard cuddle pile as they all came down from their climaxes. Though Yoongi was sure he’d taken less than a pint from Jimin, but he still felt calm and full and strangely sated. Maybe it was due to feeding live. But maybe it was due to the two men snuggled up against his body, warming him from the outside in.

“Any regrets?” Jimin asked sleepily, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“None. You okay?”

“I feel great. How often do you need to feed?”

“Just every few days. I won’t need much, just enough to take the edge off… I don’t want to force you—”

“Shh,” Jimin kissed his mouth to silence him. “I’m offering. You already look better. I want to help. I told you things wouldn’t be like they were sixty years ago.”

Yoongi nodded. “Thank you.” He sighed softly, looking between the two. “I have a question for both of you.”

When they looked up, he smiled. “Jungkook – you mentioned… Changing your relationship with us. And that… I believe… Implied dating.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Do you still feel that way?”

Another nod. “Of course I do.”

“Then… I think now is a good time for me to formally ask you… Both of you… If you’d like to make this situation an official one.”

Jimin made a small noise that was a cross between an ‘oh’ and a giggle. “Are you asking out the vampire hunter’s son, Yoongi?”

Yoongi smirked. “Guess I like to live on the wild side. It’s only fair after I’ve had my teeth in your neck.”

Jimin laughed brightly, nuzzling against Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi glanced at Jungkook, noticing he’d remained silent.

“Jungkook?”

Jungkook smiled softly. He met Yoongi’s gaze. “I never expected… When I cuffed you two together, I didn’t expect things to actually work out.”

“Are you okay with how it did?” Yoongi confirmed.

“You really do care for Jimin? This isn’t some effect of drinking his blood or… Or sex or… For peace in the apartment?”

Yoongi chuckled. He nodded. “I mean, it’ll be nice to have peace in the apartment, but no… And we aren’t affected by blood drinking or anything like that, it’s just like sitting down and having a good steak – No offense.”

“None taken,” Jimin answered.

“So, yeah, I… I’ve really developed a fondness for Jimin over these few weeks. Spending more time with him, learning to work together. I don’t know if it’s love but it’s… Definitely more than tolerance. I do care for him a great deal. Just like you.”

“Were you not wanting this, Jungkook?” Jimin worried. “Like… I know you want me and you want Yoongi, but us… Together.”

“It’s not that.” Jungkook sat up. “I do. This is a dream, all three of us together. I just didn’t expect it. To be honest, I… I keep expecting to wake up.” He looked to Yoongi. “You really don’t hate Jimin?”

“No. I don’t… I don’t think I ever did. I was blaming him for his parents, for hunters who have killed my friends over the years… He was the face of it.” Yoongi paused, brows furrowed as he thought. “But he’s been just as much a victim to vampire hunters as anyone else. Has still been hurt and traumatized by them, in a different way, but… It’s there. I was just too stubborn to hear that until these weeks. And I regret that. Because getting to know the real Jimin these past few weeks has been so fun. I just hope that I can keep learning more about him.”

“And you don’t… Resent him, Jimin? For all that he’s said to you?”

“Not even a little. I wish he’d given me a chance earlier – but I understand fully why he didn’t. And I don’t blame him. I can’t say I would have either, in his shoes. And I’m glad that we’ve gotten over that bump and can move forward with our friendship and… Relationship.”

Jungkook seemed to relax a little, a small smile crossing his face as he looked at the two.

“So, what do you say, Jungkook?” Yoongi pressed. “Is this— Are the three of us… Okay?”

Jungkook remained silent a moment, looking between the two. He nodded then. “You two make a cute couple.”

“And we three will make an adorable throuple,” Jimin said. Jungkook’s soft smile widened then, crinkling his nose and exposing his front teeth.

“We will, won’t we?”

Yoongi grabbed for Jungkook with his free hand, pulling him down into a kiss. After, he turned, kissing Jimin gently. “Amazing how comfortable that feels,” he commented.

“Guess we shoulda been doing it this whole time,” Jimin said.

Yoongi nodded, kissing him once more. “I guess so. We’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

“What a trio we are,” Jungkook said. “A vampire, a human, and a werewolf.”

“Unique and fun, I’d call it.”

“You know,” Jungkook said, nuzzling against Yoongi’s neck. “I’d like to point out that none of this would have happened if I hadn’t thought to cuff you two together.”

Jimin snorted, but Yoongi chuckled. “You’re not wrong… I’m gonna kinda miss being cuffed to you when we get home, Jimin.”

Jimin grinned broadly. “It’s okay, I know you like holding my hand is all. I promise to hold it all the time, even if we’re not joined at the wrist.” He shifted, taking Yoongi’s hand and twining their fingers.

“Only if Jungkook holds my other hand,” Yoongi said, holding his free hand out. Jungkook grinned brightly and grabbed it, lacing his fingers between Yoongi’s before letting it rest on his stomach.

Yoongi closed his eyes, sighing softly. He could hear the steady, firm heartbeats of his boyfriends, and smell their comforting scents. The taste of Jimin’s blood was still present on his tongue, but it didn’t frighten him in the way the thought of it had. It felt safe. He felt safe. Even as a vampire – deadly and near unkillable – there had always been something missing in Yoongi’s world. Something that made him feel exposed, and scared, in a way even he couldn’t pinpoint.

And now, for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel that fear. Instead he felt warmth. And he felt happiness. And he’d spend the rest of his time on earth protecting that happiness, no matter what.

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michaelmyersmalewife · 4 years ago

Text

the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 3/?

- sephiroth/reader

- sfw

You were really starting to regret not getting at least a coffee as you made your way to the briefing room. Maybe it was just your nerves, or the fact you might’ve run a mile in under an hour, but you were feeling some horrible combination of tired and energized. You closed your hands into tight fists to calm your jitters.

You could already see their frosty apparitions just beyond the semi-transparent sliding door, the figure that could’ve only been Sephiroth turning in your direction as you approached. He was leaning against the ring of desks in the center of the room, arms crossed, with Director Lazard seated at a monitor right next to him. The screen gleamed against the glasses perched on his angular face, obscuring his eyes until he looked up at you. They were the same stony grey as his suit, which he smoothed down as he sat up, extending a gloved hand toward you. You shook it, slightly bewildered.

He was kind of a lanky man, his hair the dingy color of wheat. But he had kind eyes, the type that crinkled at the corners when he smiled even a little bit. He gave you a single, firm handshake before taking it back, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

“Good morning! I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.” he said, promptly sitting back down. “This won’t take too long, I assure you.”

Sephiroth gave you a nod in greeting, ambling over to stand beside you. You straightened your posture.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re both on the same page.” he said as he typed something in rapid succession.

“It’s no problem, director.”

Taking his hands off the keyboard, he set his elbows on the desk. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve made great strides in your training.”

Doesn’t feel like it, you wanted to add. You shifted on your feet, trying to keep your attention focused on the director and not on the eyes you felt boring into you from two feet away.

“So, starting today, you’ll be joining Sephiroth on his missions. At his request, of course.”

You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t sure if you could say anything even if you had the words. You turned toward Sephiroth, who - while facing the director - was looking at you through his peripherals, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly before he erased all evidence of it. It happened so fast that it took you a few too many seconds to register it as a grin. You always wondered how he could do that. Suddenly realizing you had been quiet for an embarrassingly long time, gawking like a fool, you cleared your throat.

“I won’t let you down, sir.”

Sephiroth glanced down, the full extent of his attention on you now. Then, he did something strange. He smiled - like, genuinely. Not so much with his mouth, but with his eyes, squinting with something that wasn’t born from tired disapproval or aloof pride. Noticing your jaw had gone slack, you snapped it shut, facing ahead.

“Now that that’s in order,” Lazard started, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the wall-sized screen behind him. “You’ll be sent to Kalm to investigate recent reports of strange activity around its mines.”

The screen blinked to life, showing a map with dozens of little dots with one in particular highlighted among the rest. The tension in your muscles loosened. By all accounts, it was a routine job for soldiers in your class. You’d since lost count of all the times you’ve disposed of monsters and the like in the villages surrounding Midgar. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure why a 1st would be needed for something so mundane, unless they were really bent on getting this over with.

“We sent a group of 3rds to scope it out,” he adjusted his glasses. “All three are currently recovering in the hospital wing.”

Well, shit.

“You’ll be dispatched when we have everything ready. Should take a little over an hour but we’ll send someone for you.” he finished, looking much too optimistic for you. “I’m sure you two can handle this.”

“Sounds good to me, sir.” you said, feebly masking the tremble in your voice.

Lazard nodded. “Dismissed.”

Seeing Sephiroth bow his head, you stiffly followed suit, shuffling to the side as you followed him out of the room.

As you entered the hall, Sephiroth looked over his shoulder, slowing his pace as you eventually caught up to him. He looked at you with that same expression back in the briefing room, flicking his bangs out of his face with a single shake.

“Nervous?”

“Pff, me? Nah.”

There was a pause, and the gap in conversation made you not want to look at him.

“Good.” he said calmly, the sound putting your nerves at ease.

---

Flexing your hand, your knuckles popped, going back to gripping the edge of the seat. You were still being jostled by the uneven road, and it was taking all your concentration not to knock into Sephiroth (who was somehow so stationary you’d think he was glued in place). You were already trying to balance feeling nervous and excited, but when he so easily could’ve sat across from you in the otherwise empty truck, you were sure he was actively trying to make you puke. You stared out the window. You had already been on the road for some time, but it wouldn’t take you more than twenty or so minutes to get to Kalm. But every passing second felt like an hour.

You felt something nudge your arm.

It startled you, but you ignored it, thinking it was just a particularly rough bump in the road that finally shifted Sephiroth out of place.

Another nudge. You cast him a glance.

“You’re tense,” he commented in that flat tone he usually reserved for your training sessions. “Ease up a little.”

Without really thinking, you let your shoulders droop.

“You’ll be fine. Think of it as any other mission you’ve cleared.”

“Right.” you mumbled.

There was a long stretch of silence. For a while - you couldn’t tell, really - all you heard was the sound of rocks and dirt crunching under the truck’s tires. Outside, grassy cliffs filled every corner. The sun wasn’t out today, and you could feel the latent chill from outside seeping in from the pane of glass behind you. Sephiroth leaned his head against the wall of the truck.

“My first mission, my first big one, went horribly.”

You looked over at him. Leaning forward, you perched your elbows on your knees. His chest rose in a silent sigh. You weren’t about to prod him to continue. He was far away in a memory, looking both unreasonably young and old. You shifted in your seat.

“Whatever the outcome, it’ll make for some good experience.” he finally spoke, slowly, like he was rolling the words around in his mind.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He chuckled softly, his eyes fluttering shut. “Yes. Did it work?”

“You kind of suck at it,” you said, sitting upright with your arms folded across your chest. “But yeah..sort of.”

He blinked at you before letting out a bemused laugh, his shoulders shaking with the lilting rumble. You couldn’t help but crack a smile.

Just like that, the truck jolted to a stop, rocking you right into Sephiroth. You muttered an ‘ouch’ as you rubbed the part of your head that collided with his pauldron. You thought you heard a ‘sorry’ in response, but before you could acknowledge it there was a quick succession of bangs from the plate separating you and the driver.

“That was fast.” Sephiroth hummed, pushing himself up and reaching for the door.

Though it was incredibly overcast, you squinted against the brightness from the silver blanket of clouds that shielded the sky. There was a humid chill in the air, uncomfortably clinging to your skin like an ill-fitting sweater. It looked like it wanted to rain.

They had dropped you off just outside of Kalm, the small town peeking out of its cozy nest among a grassy plain. It was a short walk away, but already your presence was attracting attention.

As you entered the town, dirt road abruptly shifting into swirling cobblestone, you felt dozens of eyes on you. The streets were by no means crowded, but the handful of people that were out made no attempt to hide their stares. You had since gotten used to that sort of thing - you had to be, as a member of SOLDIER. But now you shrivelled at the feeling, just a little.

It was easy to ignore the looks - the good and the bad - but with a walking posterboy at your side it wasn’t as easy. It was impossible, and the further you ventured into town the more it seemed to cluster. Your pace broke, and you fell into step just behind him. He didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he made no mention of it.

“Is that him?” a hushed voice passed by you.

Throwing a quick glance over your shoulder, you spotted two teens huddled together, trying to hide excited giggles behind their hands.

“It’s gotta be, who else has hair like that?”

You let out a snort, prompting Sephiroth to turn his head. It swivels to the side, right where you had been up until a minute ago, and there’s almost a hint of something frantic as he spends a second looking around for you. Finally setting his gaze on you - meeting your eyes - he gives you another one of his flash smiles, before refocusing on the path before him. Behind you, the teens burst into giggles, their shoes scraping against the stone floor as they scrambled away.

As you entered the town square, the slowly amalgamating crowd became a singularity, and something in Sephiroth’s demeanor changed. Like the air before a storm, you saw no trace of the man that seemed intent on easing your nerves. This was Sephiroth the war hero.

People were already approaching you - or rather, Sephiroth, who had unwittingly pulled a crowd into his own gravity. It took a fair amount of concentration to single out each voice among the cacophony, as they were barely audible over one another’s frantic questioning.

“Are you here to get rid of the monster?”

“We’ve been out of work for almost a week now!”

“Thank goodness they finally sent a real soldier to take care of this.”

“Mister Sephiroth can you look down here for a second?”

You felt a pulse at your temple, like someone just stuck a needle into your brain matter and pulled it out in the same breath. The crowd was what you’d imagine a rip current to feel like, and without really meaning to, you exited his orbit. To your relief, none of them seemed to notice anyway. You felt a little bad leaving him back there, but as the sound of clashing voices and photos being snapped dulled, you felt the tightening in your chest loosen. Despite the chill in the air, you found that you had been sweating.

“This all started because of them.” a man muttered to someone beside him.

They were standing at the very edge of the crowd, looking on with a certain intensity. Though they were both staring in Sephiroth’s direction, you couldn’t help but feel like that venom was directed at you.

“Oh come on, they’re just a bunch of guard dogs. You know who’s really responsible.”

“Still don’t sit right with me.” the first man said, brimming with spite. “They can show off all they want, still ain’t solving shit.”

You kept walking.

---

You had left the town square entirely, the noise nothing but an echo. Quietly walking past shops and homes, you hadn’t realized that you completely left Sephiroth in the dust. You were tempted to double back and drag him out of there, but as soon as you turned around you twitched in surprise.

There was a kid (a tiny thing, her tawny hair messily tied into twin pigtails and looking like she had just finished wrestling with dirt) standing about a foot in front of you. There was a sparkling curiosity in her eyes despite the impassive expression, and you realized that she wasn’t even looking at you.

“Are those real?” she pointed at the blades strapped to your sides.

You gave them a passing glance. They were nothing special, though you took care of them like they were. They were simple, SOLDIER-issued swords - twins, with black blades that reflected a dull image of you whenever you polished them. You unsheathed the one on your right, leaning over slightly as you lowered it to the kid’s level.

She hesitates, like it’s an animal ready to snap at the hands she has clutched close to her heart. But she takes a closer look, her sparkling eyes reflecting in its dark metal, warped but intrigued.

“Cool.” she says with a simple sort of reverence.

Slipping it back in its sheath, you peer down the path you took from the center of town. You sighed. With no hint of Sephiroth, you continued toward the mines.

You were only able to take about a handful of steps before you heard a soft pattering of shoes against the road shortly behind you. You didn’t have to look to see the kid trotting after you like a small shadow.

“Do you fight monsters with those?” she asked between breaths, struggling slightly to keep up with your pace.

“Yup.”

“It’s a pretty big monster.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“There were some soldier guys here yesterday. They got hurt real bad.”

“Well that’s..that’s why we’re here.”

She looked up at you, over her shoulder, then back at you. “Is your friend coming?”

“He’s not my - where are your parents?”

“I saw him back there, my brother thinks he’s cool.”

You rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling very tired.

“Your friend’s got a big sword. Bet that’s gonna scare the monster away.”

“I’m sure it would.”

“So you’re really gonna fight it alone?”

“Probably.” Stopping mid-step, you felt the kid collide with your arm. “And that means you gotta stay here where it’s safe before the monster eats you. Or something.”

The kid paused, brows furrowing as if deep in thought. After careful consideration, she finally spoke.

“Okay - good luck!”

Seeing the kid trot back where she came, you stretched - your arms reaching for the sky - before you folded them behind your head. You really should’ve gotten that coffee.

#sephiroth #sephiroth x reader #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #crisis core #ff7 crisis core #my fics

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sundimus · 4 years ago

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Request for Awp! 39. Both people freezing in shock at the kiss that just happened before breaking out in laughter and doing it again. + 18. “I’m embarrassed.” “Don’t be.” / Cole/Kai /// Kai doesn’t dance. Well, he does sometimes. For fun mostly, when surrounded by his friends or when he was younger with his sister. It was nothing serious, just a shake of his legs and arms to simulate what dancing vaguely looks like, but he’s never actually tried to dance dance. He’s never learned, and truth be told, he never really wanted to.

Until now it seems, as Cole stands in front of him with one hand holding his own and his other hand resting on his waist. He has a patient smile on his face, but his eyes betray his excitement at having an opportunity to dance with Kai. Kai’s confident, and isn’t deterred by the simple act of dancing, but even he wonders if he’s going to be able to do this. They haven’t even began moving yet, and Kai already feels like he might be in over his head. “You’re overthinking this,” his boyfriend oh-so-helpfully points out. Kai almost rolls his eyes, but the sound of Cole’s voice relaxes him considerably. He didn’t even realize how tense he was. “I’m embarrassed,” he admits. Though not to the extent of his sister, Kai does hold resentment towards failing at something, especially if it’s his first time doing so. Logically, he knows that he can’t be good at everything. Emotionally, he tries to be. “Don’t be. This is just for fun, and I’ll be right here with you walking you through it. And it’s just the two of us, so you don’t have to embarrass yourself in front of anyone else.” Kai huffs a laugh. “I think that might be the problem, actually. If i was learning to dance with literally anyone else, I wouldn’t care. But it’s with you, and your opinion matters the most to me.” “Me? Why me?” “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because not only are you the best dancer out of all of us, you’re also the son of a performer of all people, which means expectations are already high for me. Plus it doesn’t help that I’m in love with you, so I have developed the constant need to impress you.” Cole blushes at the rather blunt confession, his face breaking out in a shy smile that makes Kai’s heart want to burst. “Okay, you are definitely overthinking this. Jay and Nya are the ones who took actual dance lessons - I just taught myself, technically, after getting over my fear of the Triple Tiger Sashay. And I’ve only recently started doing it too! It’s a lot easier to do when you don’t have people literally giving you a grade on it.” “You’re telling me you didn’t learn how to tap dance before you learned how to walk? I’m not sure I believe you.” This time Cole’s the one who actually does roll his eyes, must to Kai’s amusement. “And I’m surprised you weren’t born just as a floating orb of fire.” Now that Kai’s relaxed a bit, he slowly starts to move his feet side to side, and Kai takes the hint to do the same, looking down at their feet to try and match his movements to the same tandem as Cole’s. “See? You’re doing great,” Cole encourages, and Kai flashes him an appreciative smile. Their dance isn’t so much a dance as it is just them swaying back and forth, but neither of them care about that. Kai finds that he very much enjoys the unexpected feeling of intimacy and comfort he’s getting from being this close. They haven’t let go of each other’s hands yet, and he moves his hand from gripping Cole’s shoulder to gently resting it on the back of his neck. He stares at his boyfriend, a sudden fondness for him taking him by surprise. He can see the few beauty marks scattered across his face and neck, and he knows that Cole is able to see his freckles in turn. He can see just how full his eyelashes are, so much so that Kai didn’t know there could be so many on a person’s face. He’s never really bothered to look at someone’s eyelashes before, but still. “It’s weird,” Kai mutters. Cole tilts his head. “What’s weird?” “You’re so pretty up close.” He laughs when Cole softly and purposefully steps on his foot. “Oh, gee, thanks. Did anyone ever tell you that you have such a way with words?” He winks. “I might have heard it a few times.” “Then those people have lied to you.” He mocks a gasp. “How could you say such a thing?” “Hmm... Because it’s easy?” “Wow. I see how it is.” He watches as Cole steps back to do a short spin for fun, still holding his hand in the process. His boyfriend smiles at him when they get close again, and Kai returns it just as happily. “I’m sorry,” Cole apologizes, even though it’s obvious just how unapologetic he actually is. “Anything I can do to help your ‘wound’?” “You could always kiss it better. I bet that would help a lot.” Cole stops moving and stares at him as Kai grins back, noting smugly at the slight pink being dusted across the other’s face. He said what he said before he could really think about it, like he’s done many times before, but flirting with Cole was different. There’s an underlying want beneath his words, rather than the usual semi-serious joking manner he fronts with flirting with anyone else. He wishes he could release the butterflies in his stomach as easily as Zane could. “Alright.” He feels Cole’s lips press against his quickly, retracting just as swiftly before Kai could kiss him back. He feels just as shocked as Cole looks, knowing that his face shares the same exact expression. Only a moment passes between them before Cole smiles, breaking with atmosphere with Kai grinning as well, laughing as he wraps his arms around his torso in a hug, dance momentarily forgotten. “We have got to stop getting embarrassed whenever we kiss each other. This is like our seven-hundredth kiss and yet we still act like it’s our first,” Kai jokes. He grasps Cole’s arm as he leans in to kiss him again, deeper this time. Cole smiles against his lips. “Well, I think we’ve gotten pretty good at this. Our first kiss was terrible - in a good way, I mean.” “Yeah, that’s a pretty good description for it. I wouldn’t have had it any other way either, to be honest.” “You’re just saying that because you finally got to kiss me after years of wanting to but never having the courage to do so,” Cole teases. Kai playfully shoves his shoulder. “Hey, I told you that in confidence!” The amused look Cole gives him returns the butterflies in full force, as though they’re trying to migrate north and right out of his mouth. “You did, and I’m going to remember it and cherish it forever,” Cole says, sickeningly sweet and very much Cole. Kai kisses him again, and their dance resumes.

#guess who has 7 thumbs and recently delved headfirst into another piece of media 😎 this guy #nervous cause this is my first ninjago fanfic aaaaa #actingwithportals #ninjago #lavashipping #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #aaaaaaa #shay writes

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elysiashelby · 4 years ago

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In Another World - T.Shelby Imagine Ch. 21

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 13,178

WARNINGS: ANGST, Cursing, Fluff, Mentions of Sexual Activity (Semi-Explicit), Smoking, Brief scenes of Arguments/Fights, Mentions of Blood, “Vivid” Murder Scene

Summary: A direct continuation from the previous chapter, Aliena takes Michael to the spot Tommy reserved for her and they talk. Michael is introduced to the family. Ali and Tommy are somewhat strained again, but is that a good or bad thing?

MASTERLIST CHAPTER 20 CHAPTER 22

A/N: This chapter is crazy long! I was not expecting to have so much to write about in this chapter. It’s kind of filler, but it’s happier than most of my chapters. Anyway, from this chapter to the next, I’m going to be messing with the timeline a little. So, if you’re a real stickler for staying with timelines, this is going to irk you.

Oh! Sorry for this sorry excuse of a GIF. The clip I used for Aliena had a boy next to her and this was the best way to make sure your focus staying on the chapter, if you get what I mean?

I doubled over on my knees as I panted for air. Michael was faring far better than I was.

“Why. The. Hell. Were we running?” Michael asked.

I held a finger up as a hand flew to cover my mouth. I pivoted my body away from his direction, held my hair back as much I could, and let the contents that filled my stomach escape me.

Michael muttered. “Christ!” Then, he helped me hold my hair away from my face and rubbed my back.

I was finished soon enough. I spat out whatever remained in my mouth before laughing while I sniffled. I stood up straight and wiped my mouth. “Um, we were running because I thought it a good idea at the time. Anyway, come on. We’re not too far from it now.” I waved my hand over in that direction before walking ahead.

I kept leaning as I walked, and my body felt like jelly— but I’d rather be doing this, feeling this than be at the house.

Michael cleared his throat before asking, “Did you ever tell me your name?”

I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him, still walking. “Um, ya know what… Oh my god, I don’t think I told you my name. I’m Aliena Welsh, but everyone usually calls me Ali.” I extended my hand for him to take which he did.

“Henry. Uh, wait. Michael, um, Michael Gray.”

I giggled into my free hand. “I know. Remember?”

Michael chuckled sheepishly while he rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s right, you know me.” There was some silence between us before he asked another question. “You said you worked as the family maid, right?”

I nodded.

“Forgive me for assuming, but how come you look-?”

I interrupted him with a cackle. “How come I look as posh as you?”

Even in this dark night, I could see the blush on his face. “Ye-yeah.”

I sighed as I hiked my coat up to cover my shoulders. “I have rich friends. They buy me stuff from time to time, but I have my own money. Your cousin and mum pay me two pound.”

Michael scoffed. “That’s a lot of money.”

I nodded to myself. “I know. Well, I know that now. I grew up in America, but I was born in Liverpool. Basically, I only knew the US currency system when I arrived back. I figured two pound was an appropriate amount of money for being a maid to such a big family, but now I’m not too sure.” I chuckled at the end of my sentence. I looked up at Michael and smiled.

I gasped as the sight of my parents’ gravestones as they came into view. I grabbed Michael’s hand as I said. “Come on. We’re here!” I began running over to their gravestones.

“Wait! Where the hell are we?”

I didn’t answer him until we were standing in front of them. I walked behind the gravestones and leaned down on them. “These are my parents. Just their gravestones, so you don’t have to be creeped out abar it. Tommy, your cousin, bought me them for my birthday. Well, he bought me ma’s on my 17th birthday and me da’s on me 18th. But, yeah. This little area, even that swing, is mine.”

Michael bent down taking off his cap as he did so, and read them. He peered up at me. “Tommy, he’s the one with the car, isn’t he?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” Actually, the whole family had cars of their own. ‘Cept for Ada, she didn’t want one.

Michael dusted off his cap on his thigh before standing up. “Can you tell me more about them? My family.”

I nodded and then jerked my head over to my swing. We walked over to it and I took a seat facing him, while he leaned against the tree. “Let’s see.” I began. I kicked off my shoes and started to swing a little. “Let’s go in order. Your mum, Polly, is company treasurer. She’s also the heart of the family. She’s not afraid to hit you when you’ve done something stupid or to piss her off, but she’s also incredibly kind. She just looks intimidating.”

I took a deep breath and leaned my head back. “Arthur Shelby is your oldest cousin and the most physically dangerous. He fought in the war alongside his brothers and friends. He packs quite the punch, but he’s a sensitive man deep down. So, as long as you're good with him, he’ll be good with you. Might tease ya ‘cause he can, but doesn’t everybody do that?” I looked up at Michael and we both shared a chuckle.

I cleared my throat and the smile on my face disappeared. “Thomas Shelby is the boss of the family and company. What he says is almost always law. Nothing happens in Birmingham without your cousin knowing. The cops here have less power than him.” I grunted as I gained more momentum in my swinging. “His looks are as intimidating as your mother’s, but unlike her— he doesn’t have a soft side. So, do not go fishing for it or expect it. Um, I’m sure there’s more but I can’t think of anything.”

I cleared my throat again. “Ada Shelby is your only female cousin. Ada lives in London now, so you will rarely see her in Birmingham. She has a son named Karl and her husband passed recently. He died in January. Ada is a communist, but we love her anyway. Yeah, she’s sort of strained in the family right now ‘cause she doesn’t approve of the business.”

I stopped swinging and let myself relax. “John is the third eldest of the men of the family. He has five children. He is one of the smarter ones of the family. He takes care of the books and he has a wife named Esme. She is the mother of his youngest child. She did not give birth to John's first four children. John can pack a punch as well. Um, don’t tell him a fucking thing! His lips are as loose as a… Um, a goose? Is that the saying?”

I shrugged my shoulder then sat up straight. “Finn is the last of the Shelby clan. He’s only little, 13. I think. He does little things for the family, but all you need to know is that he’s the youngest.”

Michael nodded and kicked himself off the tree. He took a few steps and then motioned me to join him. I hopped off the swing and jogged to stand next to him. “Tell me about yourself then. How did you get to know them?” He said.

I giggled then yawned. “Alright then. My da’ died in the war. That was the beginning of my problems. My sister and I weren’t really on good terms, so she didn’t help me and my mum. So, we struggled a lot. Eventually, my mum told me we were heading to England, but she wouldn’t tell me what for. She took sickness on the journey and died. I walked aimlessly around England. I didn’t remember a thing from when I was eight. I ended up in Small Heath. I fell asleep behind some barrels using my suitcases as pillows when Jeremiah, the city’s preacher found me. He introduced me to your cousins and they took me in. That was… Three years ago.” I nodded when I was done talking.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Michael said.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m okay. I’m sorry for what you had to go through. If you don’t mind me asking, were you ever going to search for Polly? Like, do you even remember what happened? How she looks like?”

Michael cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “Um, it’s alright. I’m not sure. I’m still 17, so I couldn’t really leave the house yet. I was debating trying to find… Polly, but yeah. I did think about it. I remember a little of what happened. That day, but I can’t remember anything before that. I, uh, I don’t really remember how Polly looked like.”

I nodded and hummed. “She’s beautiful, really!”

Michael chuckled. “Really?”

I nodded, enthusiastically. We laughed again. The two of us then circled back to the swing and while I sat on that plank of wood— Michael sat down on the grass in front of me.

“Are you not cold?” He asked.

I shook my head. “No, not really. And I have a lot of alcohol to thank for that. Why are you?”

He shook his head. “No, but you’re wearing less than me. That’s why I was asking.”

“Oh.” I drew out while nodding my head. I yawned and sniffled again.

We talked more. We talked so much that I was eventually yawning between every word I was speaking. I grew tired of sitting on the swing and I laid down next to where he sat. I guess Michael didn’t like looking down on me like that as he soon laid beside me.

I yawned. “When we head back to the ‘ouse, you need to stay outside. Polly will eventually come home ‘n you’ll be escorted inside. When we meet inside again, you need to greet me as if we’ve never seen each other. Got it?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good.”

I managed a couple of more sentences before my eyes did not want to lift anymore. I whispered. “Wake me up at dawn, will you?”

Michael whispered back. “Can’t make any promises.”

We woke up when the sun was up. That’s all that matters at this point. As we were walking back, I groaned under my breath. “My feet hurt!”

Michael laughed at me. I blew raspberries at him. Michael looked over at me before he asked. “Do you think my mum is already there?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I hummed ‘I don’t know.’ We trudged all the way over to the house. As we stood outside the door, I pointed at him and said. “Stay.”

Michael glared at me before smiling and shaking his head.

I snickered before opening the door to the house. “By the way, you might want to try and get off any grass you may have on your back. See ya later.” I closed the door in his face and headed up to my room.

I stood in front of Tommy’s door and just tried to listen to see if anyone was in there. When I couldn’t hear anything, I went into my room and began getting ready for the day.

I was asleep for about three to four hours, and I woke up with a nasty hangover. As I stared at the bed beside me, my body was begging me to lie down. But, I couldn’t. I had to work today. There was no Advil or Ibuprofen until 1961. The only thing we had was morphine or opium. I was never going to take the latter, so I was raw dogging the hangover as always.

I covered my face with my hands and sighed deeply. I threw my head back and groaned softly. I wiped my make-up off and reapplied some foundation and concealer. Foundation for the bruise on my chin and concealer for the dark circles under my eyes.

I looked at myself in the mirror and felt nothing.

Last night did not go how I wanted it too. Again, I don’t know what I wanted to happen, but I didn’t think Tommy and I were going to be strained again. Fuck, I can’t believe I caught him in his little escapades again.

If I had to compare the two, this one hurt more. Not only because it was raw, but because I wanted him last night. I wanted something like that for us. But it’s just my useless pinning. God, was I obsessing over him? I hate myself.

I squeezed my eyes shut and cringed. I huffed, angrily, before I yanked off my bra and put a comfier one on. I put on a long skirt and a jumper. I put my hair up messily, not really caring how I looked, before heading downstairs.

Walking straight into the kitchen, I found it empty. I pursed my lips at the sight ‘n shrugged my shoulders. I began my job by getting a kettle of tea on for Polly then I made some eggs and sausage.

The door opened and I knew who it was. I could hear the excited chirping of Polly before she crossed the threshold of the kitchen.

“Oh my-, Aliena! Come ‘ere!”

I turned around. Polly and Michael were standing there side-by-side. Polly’s hands hovered over her son’s shoulders, an ecstatic smile on her face. It would seem that the smile was contagious since all three of us were smiling now.

Polly continued. “Ailena, it’s Michael! My son. Michael, this is Ailena. She’s our maid but we don’t treat her as one. She’s been with us for three years and she’s around your age.”

I walked forward and we shook hands while simultaneously greeting each other. I said. “I’m making eggs and sausage. Would either of you like some?”

Polly looked at Michael expectantly while the latter glanced at her as well.

He nodded. “Yes, please. I’m starving.”

I nodded and turned back around, but I was stopped by Polly. “Wait, Ali, love. Go on, sit down. I got it.”

“Are you sure?” I leaned closer to her and whispered. “I can take care of this for you and you can talk to ‘em.”

She shook her head. “I want you to sit down with him.”

I nodded and flashed her a smile. I faced Michael, pulled out a chair for him before taking my own. I let them talk and sat there quietly. Not like I wanted to chime in on the conversation anyhow. My head was pounding and I just wanted to go to sleep.

I wanted silence and serenity more than anything. I pinched the space between my eyes and took a deep breath.

‘Good thoughts only, Aliena. Good thoughts only!’ I tried soothing myself. It works sometimes.

The plates clattered as they were set down on the table. I opened my eyes and smiled up at Polly. I dug into the scran I made as slowly as I could manage. However, the rubble in my stomach was not going to let me get away with such a slow pace.

“Aliena, have you had any schooling?” Michael asked.

I picked my head up and covered my mouth as I replied. “I finished secondary school, but obviously— I never went to a uni.”

He nodded and asked. “What’s your plans, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I shook my head, my gaze fluttering toward Polly for a second. “I don’t. Um, I’m not sure. I wanted to become an author, but I’m not sure if that’s still on the table for me. Right now, I’m content with where I am. You?”

Michael stammered for words. “I’ve taken courses. Excelled in mathematics, but I’m not sure. I’m thinking of getting an accounting job as soon as I can. Maybe even something else in that field. But, yeah.”

I nodded. “Cool.”

Polly came over with the kettle, poured both of us a cup, and asked Michael. “How was it?”

While looking up at her, he replied. “I was starving, so I would have eaten anything. But really it was super.”

Polly and I shared a small chuckled, but she repeated his word. “Super.”

Never hear that ‘round here.

Michael asked Polly. “So, uh, are you a cook?”

“Not a cook. No.” She set down the kettle and got a cup for herself, scrunching her hair as she did so. I knew she was trying to look her best given the circumstances.

As she took a seat, Michael began talking, “The man who came to the house, he was driving a posh car. He looks rich. What does he do?”

Polly finished pouring her cup as she answered. “He works with horses.”

‘What a blag! Polly, ma’am!’ I thought as I took a sip of tea. My eyes widened and fluttered comically.

“Really? I love horses. I got a bay mare.”

“No.”

“I ride it all the time.”

Polly waved out her hand as she said. “Then, it’s in the blood.”

I was busy eating my breakfast. I wasn’t going to interrupt their bonding moment any time soon. Even though Michael's eyes kept flickering toward me.

Their eyes locked, and Michael had a smile on his face “I’ve got about a million questions.” He said.

“So do I.”

“I’ve had different pictures in my head.”

“Well, here I am.” Polly went for a ciggie while Michael stirred his tea a bit more. Polly moved some of her hair away from her face before asking,“It's all right that it's me, isn't it?”

‘Should I? Shouldn't I? Fuck it, I want one.’ I reached over for Polly’s case, and I gave her a look asking for her permission. She nodded at me while she was exhaling. I got one and lit it up.

“I don’t have any choice.” Michael replied. Polly stubbed out her ciggie as Michael continued. “I mean, you are who you are, aren't you? We don't choose. And that's it.”

I took a long pull and exhaled it slowly.

“Yeah, that’s right. God gave you to me. People took you away.” Polly reached for his hand and grasped onto it. She took a deep breath before placing her other hand onto their grasp. “And it is all right that it's me, isn't it? In a place like this.”

Michael looked around as if he were thinking about it. “I thought it would be worse.”

Polly and I let out a little laugh while Michael just smiled. However, the moment was ruined when Arthur’s booming voice could be heard from outside.

Arthur shouted while bursting through the door with John. “Run for the hills! It's the Digbeth Kid!”

I covered my mouth as a way to stifle my giggles.

“Get out of town, kid, or I will shoot your fucking head off!”

“Time’s Up! Pew!”

I was cackling, bad. I doubled over and tried hiding myself with the table. Polly and Michael’s chairs scraped the floor a little as they stood up.

“You’re dead. Go down. John!”

I wish I could say there was nothing but silence; however, my cackling was filling the room. I held my breath and sat up straight. I moved around in my chair, trying to get comfortable and act right. I looked at John and Arthur and snickered. I muttered under my breath, “I’m fucking dead.” I shook my head as I stifled my laughter while looking down. My body jostled up and down.

As John was putting his gun away, he reached over and tried swatting me. I yelped and tried hitting him back. I cleared my throat as I sat back down. I looked down at my cigarette to see it’s almost finished.

They finally snickered as Arthur said. “All right then, Polly. Who's this?”

The boys looked at me with a mischievous smile and found one on my own. I reached for Polly’s case and got myself another.

Tom said. “Gentlemen, this is your cousin. Polly's son, Michael.”

The looks on Arthur’s and John’s faces were wiped off and a serious look replaced it. I won’t lie. When Tom spoke, I looked at him. A pain shot through my heart, it confused me. So, I numbed it with a quick drag.

Michael walked over to Arthur and shook his hand then John’s. “Pleased to meet you.”

“John.”

“I'm Arthur. You've already met me. I used to throw you out of the window, so John could catch you.”

“Yeah. I used to put you in a shoebox and kick you down Watery Lane.”

Everyone was smiling except for the two troublemakers over here admitting their evil deeds.

Tommy chimed. “I bet you’re glad to be back.”

Michael laughed before saying, “I don't remember any of it. All I remember is the day they took me away.”

I looked over at Polly who looked like she was about to cry from the statement. She walked over to Michael and cupped his face. I averted my eyes.

I knew I was not the only one who looked away as she hugged him. Arthur and John did the same.

When I decided to look back, Tommy began to speak. “Well, you’re here now, son.” Tommy put a hand on Michael’s back. “Welcome to the Shelby family.”

Arthur chimed in. “Later on, we'll show you the ropes.”

While, John added. “Mhmm. Yeah, we'll show you what's what.”

I knew Polly sent Tommy a wary gaze. She didn’t want Michael anywhere near the family business. Poor her.

“Let's leave him be for now, eh? Come on, boys.” As Tom passed by me, he stole my ciggie from my hand. “Ailena.”

“Thomas.” I replied in the same tone as him while arching a brow.

“Nice suit.” Arthur said to Michael.

Polly chuckled before looking back at Michael, fixing his bowtie. Michael looks like he’s been starstruck.

“They seem nice.”

I snickered, looking away immediately after the fact. I looked back at the pair just as Polly began to speak.

“After having a bit more of a talk, how about going with Aliena for a tour of the city? I have a bit of business I need to tidy up and then I’ll be done for the day. What do you both think?”

Michael and I shared a look. I gave a quick smile, nodding. “I’m fine with it.”

“Then, I’m fine with it too.”

“Wonderful,” Polly cheered. “Come now, the both of you.” She took Michael’s arm before walking over to me, and pulled me up to the living room by my arm.

For a while, it was an A and B conversation where C would pop up from time to time. I had to pretend to be engaged, otherwise, Polly would see my head tipping back and she would drag me into the conversation.

Eventually, Polly let out a huge sigh and stood up, which made Michael and I follow suit. “Well then. I should head to the office to finish up my business. Ali, show Michael around the city, will you?”

I nodded. “‘Course, Pol. C’mon, Michael.” I walked ahead of him and out the door. Once he closed the door behind him, I dropped my facade and groaned loudly.

Michael chuckled. “How do you think I did?”

“Someone call a film director and give this man a job.” I giggled. “You did good. I can honestly say I couldn’t lie to your mum for months, but you did it so flawlessly.”

Michael dropped his jaw while scoffing. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

I shrugged my shoulders as I began to walk backwards. “Take it as you want it. C’mon, I’ll show you a couple of spots I love.”

We talked as I showed him Mrs. Davies’ Bakery as well as a few other food joints. I wasn’t going to tell a blag, I’m not an experienced tour guide. So, I’m winging it.

We stopped in front of Arthur’s flat when I sighed. “Alright, I had about enough of this. Did you say you had some lodgings elsewhere?”

Michael struggled to find his words. “Uh… Ye-yeah! I did, why?”

I rushed forward and took his hands into mine. “That’s great! Let’s go.”

“What? You haven’t even finished showing me the city yet.”

“The city will still be there after a nap. I know you’re as desperate as me for some sleep. Now, c’mon before I get anymore grumpy. And you won’t like me when I’m grumpy.” I began walking forward, pulling him behind me.

Michael scoffed. He repositioned our hands, increased his pace, and began pulling me instead. “You don’t even know where I’m staying.” He grumbled.

I chuckled. “That’s true.”

We walked to where he was staying. Got a look from the lady at the desk, I knew she knew me. Michael unlocked his door and noticeably swallowed. He clutched the cap in his hands tightly while smoothing his hair down. “Um, so this is it.”

I rolled my eyes, pushed him out of the way, and flopped down on his bed. I let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Finally, a damn bed!” I closed my eyes while I situated myself on the bed. “C’mon, Michael. Join me.” I patted on the space beside me.

“I can’t possibly-!”

I opened my eyes and glared at him. “Why not?”

“It’s… We hardly know each other.” His face was beet red.

I rolled my eyes again. “Relax. I’m practically your sister, you know. Your mum says she sees me as her daughter.”

“Yeah, but you’re not.”

I hmphed. “Fine then. Sleep on the floor. Wait for mo’! We slept near each other out in the field. How is this any different?”

“This is a bedroom. My bedroom. I’m still a man, you know.”

I let out a cackle. “Don’t flatter yourself, Michael. I can defend myself, so stop arguing and lay down beside me. If you don’t want to, I’m not gonna force ya. But, just know you can.”

I rolled over and faced the wall. I scrambled under the blankets and closed my eyes. I tried going to sleep, but I couldn’t with Mr. Modest standing over there, fidgeting. I didn’t feel at ease until he took the space beside me. The bed dipped and then I felt his presence next to me.

I smiled and finally went to sleep. I woke up sometime in the middle of my nap. Let me rephrase that, Michael woke me up in the middle of my nap. Without opening my eyes, I croaked. “What do you want?”

“I need to use a telephone. They don’t have a working one here.”

“Nearest one is at the Garrison. Go bug Arthur or Tom. Piss off.”

Through squinted eyes, I could see Michael slip out the door. I rolled back over and fell back asleep.

I grunted as I was slammed against the wall. I met his fervent kisses with the same passion. They were so sloppy to the point where he was about to ruin this for me. I tugged him away by his hair and presented him my neck.

He didn’t waste any time kissing, sucking, and nipping. I let out a sigh that was cut off by my smile. I couldn’t deny the pleasure he was giving me. The target tugged my face in his direction, capturing my lips again before I felt his hands under my knees.

I jumped in his arms. He whisked us into his office and closed the door behind us. We threw ourselves in a kiss once we heard the door slam shut. He reached up and pulled out the pin holding my hair in a bun. Well, it was my wig, but same thing, for now.

I parted from him and shook out my hair. He tugged me back down before slamming me against another wall. I grunted, but I can’t deny the pleasure I felt from the pain he caused me. I scratched his face and neck which spurred a groan from him.

I squealed as he ripped open my shirt. ‘Fuck, I’m getting carried away.’ I thought, a lapse of sanity taking over, thank god! But it faded as he began to suck on the top of my breasts. I hugged his head closer to my body which made him chuckle. He whisked me around again and I giggled.

He held me tight to him as he bent us over, and used his arm to wipe away everything on his coffee table. He laid me down on it which made my head fall back. He didn’t waste any time paying attention to my breasts again.

I craned my head up and looked at him. ‘Fuck, fuck fuck! This feels so good.’ I let out a sigh, a sigh I desperately tried to keep in. I bit my bottom lip and let my head fall back again.

The target trailed his kisses down from my stomach to my ear. He whispered. “I’m going to make it so you’d never want another man again.” He chuckled into my ear and the spell was broken. He fucking broke it by opening up his mouth.

I smashed our lips together before I reached into his coat, grabbed the gun, and pulled the trigger multiple times into his side.

He fell to the side, gasping for air. Deadpan, I took my time getting to my feet. I bent down and watched as he struggled to breathe. I was panting a little, my heart still racing from the adrenaline.

I smiled when he took his final breath, what a malicious smile it was. I stood up and walked over to the mirror he had on his wall. I fixed up my lipstick and tried to fix any other blemish.

“Fuck!” There was fucking blood on me. I walked over to the fireplace, wiped the blood off my stomach, and then tossed the shirt in it. The shirt didn’t burn instantly, but it was a nice sight. I turned around, picked up my hairpin and walked out the door. I got my suit jacket from off the floor and buttoned it all the way up.

I didn’t stop for anyone as I walked directly into the car that was waiting for me outside.

“Successful, Ms. Welsh?” Chris, my now permanent driver, asked.

I looked at him through the rear view mirror, sporting a smile. “Of course.”

He smiled back at me before taking off from the company headquarters we were at.

Who calls for a whore so early in the morning? And to meet up at their job, no less! Jesus christ! It’s too bad, he was quite the looker.

Finger traced over my swollen lips.

I won’t deny that I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m so sexually frustrated. I touch myself when I can, but I’m 19-years-old! I’m an even older virgin!

I rested my cheek on my closed fist.

God, I can’t believe my infatuation with Tommy is so bad that I imagined him while I was doing that. The only reason I could prevent myself from going any further was ‘cause that idiot broke my fantasy. He opened his mouth and I realized he wasn’t Tommy.

I rubbed my forehead and huffed. ‘Now, I’m even more frustrated.’ I reached down on the car floor and pulled the suitcase to my side. “Keep your eyes on the road, Chris.” I ordered before I began unbuttoning my suit jacket.

“As always, Ms. Welsh.”

I smiled before shrugging off my jacket. I tugged my regular work dress over my head and smoothed out any wrinkles. I reached down and tugged my heels off to replace them with some shorter heels. Then, I took off my wig. I placed all my items into the case, and threw it back down.

“You know what to do with it right.”

“Of course, Miss. I’ll incinerate it right after I drop you off.”

“What happens if you try to betray us and try to turn this in as evidence?”

“That won’t happen, Ms. Welsh. I promise you.”

“Answer the question, Chris. It’s procedure.”

He cleared his throat. “Mr. Johnson will kill me and my entire family.”

“Right.” I hated doing this part. Chris really was a diligent worker, but I get why I have to do it. Some dogs like to bite the hand that feeds them.

We arrived a few blocks from the main house. I climbed out of the car and walked over to the driver’s side. I smiled at Chris, thanking him for the ride. He tipped his hat before taking off. I jogged over to the shop side of the house, entering it. Men shouting over each other made me sigh.

I’m just glad I didn’t have to deal with it today.

I walked into the kitchen and passed by the living room where Polly and Michael were sitting. I plastered an innocent smile on my face as I began to spew bullshit out of my mouth. “Sorry, I’m late. It took a little longer than I thought.”

Polly shook her head. “It’s all right, love. How did he take it?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Turns out he was cheating on me, just like I suspected.”

Polly tsked before rushing from her seat to hug me. She whispered in my ear, “I’m so sorry, love. Maybe next time.”

I hummed and nodded. We parted and gave each other a grin. Polly looked over at Michael and said. “Come now. I want to show you my house.”

Michael got up from his spot on the couch and walked over to us. I went ahead of them both, opened the door, and then waited for them to exit the house. Then, the three of us walked over to the garage.

“Do you think I could give it a go?” Michael asked as we stood in front of Polly’s car.

I looked over at her to which she met my gaze. She opened her mouth letting out a drawn out, “Uh...”

Michael began pleading his case. “I have experience, promise.”

Polly’s mouth smacked before she spoke. “Oh, all right then. Here you are. Promise to be careful.”

“Of course.”

We all walked to our respective seats, but as Michael passed me— I obnoxiously signed the cross.

“Oh, shut it!” He muttered as he bumped my shoulder.

“Knock it off, you two.”

I cackled all the way till I sat in the back. The ride was hectic to say the bloody least. The boy was gassing it and breaking hard. I’m just thankful we made it to Sutton without an accident or whiplash.

He pulled up to the house with a screeching halt. Polly’s hand was clutching the outside of the car door for dear life as was mine.

“That was great, well done.”

I scoffed. “Don’t lie to him, Pol. We were holding on for dear life.”

She sighed. “Out we get then.”

I laughed as I climbed out. Polly swatted me gently on the stomach with the back of her hand.

She whispered. “Don’t tease him so much.”

With a shit-eating smile on my face, I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I was only joking anyway.”

Polly flashed me a smile of her own before taking my arm and walking toward the house. Once we were on the pavement, she let go of my arm to lean into Michael and talk to him using her ciggie.

She used her ciggie to point toward the house in front of us. “This house is mine. I’ve taken on a different maid. Aliena isn’t a maid here. She’s my guest, so make sure to, you know, treat her as you’ve been. Anyhow, I told her to make up the big room for you.”

Michael crossed his arms as Polly flicked her ciggie away on the street. “Come on, let’s have a look.” She said while walking ahead of us.

I bumped purposely into Michael and jogged to meet up with Pol. I looked behind me and he was chasing after me. I screamed a little and ran faster.

“Oh, enough the both of you! Acting like children!” Polly tried sounding scoldin’ but she was laughing through her words.

Michael and I ran around the front yard a little before I let him catch me in his arms. He carried to the front door before setting me down.

“Go on.” I said while tucking away pieces of hair that had blocked my view. “Unlike you, I’ve already seen the place.”

Michael nodded. “Okay, then.”

I was the last one to walk in, so I closed the door behind me. I could see Michael’s figure disappearing in the living room, so I followed suit.

I could hear Polly say, “I thought we could spend the week here.” Polly walked to the other side of the coffee table while Michael and I took a seat on the couch. “You know, get to know each other again.”

It got quiet between the three of us, which Polly disrupted. “I've got ham. Do you like ham?”

While nodding, Michael said. “I like ham, yes.”

“I do too.” I chimed in, trying to hide a smile. I felt bad like I was interrupting a moment, but it would be weirder for me not to talk from time to time.

Polly took a side step, placing her gloves into the bowl on the coffee table. “I’ve got a maid.” Her tone was nervous. Instantly, made me feel for her.

“Yes, you said.”

I tsked and smacked Michael’s arm. He gave me a look and I gave him one back.

“She’s upstairs. She can give us some tea. Look, I ring this bell. Watch.” Polly took the bell that was resting on the coffee table and rang it.

Under my breath, I grumbled. “I’m bloody well glad I never had a bell to be beckoned with.” Though, I did notice that Polly looked really happy.

Footsteps echoed behind us and I craned my head to face her. She looked like a young adult. Older than me, at least. Good.

“Yes, madam.” She said.

We all just sort of waited for one of us to say something, or perhaps I was missing a cue.

Michael looked to the side a little as he said. “I think we'd like some tea.”

I watched as the maid walked out of our sight. I raised an eyebrow at the sight. I was never like that.

“You get used to it.” Michael added.

I looked back at him, well more like I looked down at him since I was sitting on the couch on my knees. I muttered. “Cheeky bastard.” And I smacked his arm. This caused another fight to break out.

“Will the both of you fucking stop it all ready!”

I don’t know why Michael and I acted so well together. It was like I gained an annoying little brother. Honestly! Talking to him is fun, though, I do get bored from time to time. His list of subjects to talk about is as limited as mine. Makes it quite difficult.

Oh and play fighting! That’s all me. I take responsibility. I provoked him the first time we ever play fought and it became a trend. It’s improper for the time, I understand, but nevertheless. I’m not from these times, and he’s one of the only males around my age. I’m used to roughhousing with John and Arthur. I think it happened only once with Tommy. I think.

I was walking back to the main house after dropping off Tommy’s laundry at his flat. I had to make dinner for Finn. Polly and Michael were back at the house in Sutton. Arthur elected himself my appointed driver to take me to and from the house. As Polly stated before, she doesn't want me sleeping at the main house by myself. Finn gets to stay with John or Arthur. I mean, Tommy is a choice too— but, is he really?

I was chuckling to myself when I bumped into someone. I gasped and instantly began apologizing. “I’m so sorry! I was lost in thought and I should’ve been-!”

“Ali! Ali, it’s all right. It’s just me.”

I finally looked the man in the eye and sighed in relief when it was just Tom.

Ah-! Just Tom. Tom, who I have not spoken to privately since The Garrison’s reopening. The Tom, who I heard having a threesome. Tom. Yeah, okay.

“Ugh, in that case, watch where you’re going.” I shook my head, giggling into my hand. Tom let out a little snicker.

“Right, well. I wanted to see if you’d notice that I was walking toward you. You didn’t.”

I spluttered into my hand, embarrassed. “Alright, alright. Did you need something, Tommy?” ‘Yes, yes… Keep this nice and calm, Aliena. You know nothing and yet everything. God, let me just ascend, right now!’ I took a calming breath, which was actually very loud.

Tom averted his gaze, his eyes wide, and his jaw dropped before pursing his lips. “Polly told me yesterday that you went to break up with one of your gentlemen fellows.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and waved my hands in a “stop” gesture. “Wait, wait, wait! Did you refer-? Did you just say “gentlemen fellows?” ” I blinked dramatically as I leaned forward. I snickered while turning my head away.

“All right, calm down, Aliena.”

I turned my head back and nodded. I held my breath and then let out a sharp exhale. I met his gaze and bit my cheek to prevent my anxious laughter.

‘I don’t remember the name I gave this boyfriend. Please don’t make me say a name!’

Tommy stared at my face, almost inquisitively. I could see his hand inch closer to my face through the corner of my eye.

Tommy took a step closer to me, cleared his throat, and asked. “Can I check Ali?”

I exhaled quickly through my nose before nodding.

With his thumb and index finger, he held onto my chin and checked my face for any new bruises. He rubbed away what little foundation I had covering my almost healed bruise and then stared at it for awhile.

His touch was comforting even if it was just as little as this. His plump lips were so close to mine yet far away given our height difference. He still had a nick on his cheek, not fully healed. It may never and leave a scar behind. I can’t remember fully if it really did leave a scar. God, this man. He makes me want to spew poetry. I swear to all that’s Holy!

As he dropped his hand from my face, he said. “Well, then. It would seem someone’s eyes were spared today.”

“Ha!” I threw my head back. “What’re you talkin’ about? Are you trying to tell me that you would have hunted this guy down and blinded him all for my sake?” I smiled and shook my head.

Quickly, Tommy held my face and brought my gaze up. “Ali, when have I never not fought for your… honor.”

I blinked as I thought about it for a moment. I held onto Tommy's wrists and chuckled with a smile. “Oh, that’s right!” I let out another set of breathy chuckles.

“We care for you, Ali. I care about you.” Tommy flashed me a grin. Keyword, flashed.

I let go of his wrists and he let go of my face. I nodded, feeling heat overwhelm my face and neck.

Tommy smacked his mouth before saying, “There’s another thing I wanted to ask you about,.”

I hummed.

“The night of the party, you never came home. Where were you?”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “How would you know if I was or wasn’t home?”

Tommy was deadpan, no room for laughter. I so badly wanted to say something, but I held my tongue. “I slept in my room that night.” He admitted.

I hummed again this time with more judgement.

‘Crap, crap, crap! Who do I say I was with? I could say I was with John, but then again he’s a bit fucking slow! He or Esme will probably ruin it themselves. And if Finn crashed with him that night, the little bugger will rat me out! Same thing if I say Arthur. He’ll question it before agreeing to it! Or just flat out say no! I can’t even say Polly! Everyone knows she was fucking with that young guy!’

I huffed, hung my head, before looking back up at ‘em. “Right, well. I didn’t spend the night at anyone’s house. I walked all the way to my little space and spent the night swinging.”

“By yourself?”

I nodded. “By myself.”

Tom sighed. “Ali, you know it’s dangerous to be out alone at night. Especially some ways out of the city.”

I tsked, “I know, I know! Things are sensitive right now with the gang entering the London war. Yada, yada, yada! I was drunk, won’t do it again. Promise.” I looked up at him and smiled toothily. I fluttered my eyelashes and asked, cutesy. “Forgive me?”

Tom snickered while shaking his head, his hands in his pockets. “Whatever as long as you know not to do it again.”

I sighed while rocking on the heels of my feet. “Well, anyway. Where you headin’, Tommy?”

Tommy replied. “Charlie’s Yard. Some shipments came in and others need to be exported. Want to pay me Uncle a visit and see them load them. What about you?”

“Oh! I have to head back to the house and make dinner for Finn. Whenever the lad straggles back in. He’s honestly like a stray cat, that one. After that, I’m headed over to Cassie’s. Polly gave me an early weekend.”

Tommy took out a ciggie and held it between his lips as he said. “Ah, Polly! Feeling quite generous right now, isn’t she.”

I replied back with the same tone while cocking my head. “Isn’t she?”

We shared a chuckle.

“Well, then, Tommy. Good luck with your Uncle.”

“Aye. Good luck with dinner.”

We walked our separate ways. That awkwardness that I had when I first began speaking to him vanished into thin air.

I sighed contentedly as I threw myself back onto Cassie’s bed. “Ah, I missed this place.” I crawled over to Cassie, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “I missed you the most, though.” I rubbed my cheek against her shoulder and huffed.

Cassie giggled at my antics, a hand reaching behind herself to pet my head. “How have you been?” She asked.

I sighed, resting my cheek on her shoulder. “Hmm. My life has certainly been eventful these past few days or rather weeks.” I took a deep breath before sliding off her shoulder and laid down next to her.

“Polly, my female boss, admitted to me that she thought of me like a daughter. I didn’t know how to feel about it really. I liked it at the time, but now I don’t really care. I just feel like her feelings are really flexible, you know? I don’t know.” I shrugged my shoulders as I let the piece of hair I was holding fall back down.

“Then, I got into this little argument with Tommy. Hold on, hold on! It wasn’t a serious argument, but there was one, nonetheless. He apologized at this party he threw for the pub’s reopening.” I sprang up from where I laid to my knees. I took her hands and put them onto my lap. “Oh my god! I forgot to tell you. I got all dolled up for the party right. I don’t know what I was expecting to happen, but I wanted Tommy to look at me.”

I inched a bit closer to Cassie, who fixed herself to look at me more clearly. “Well, after he apologized he called me beautiful. So, I had my intended effect for a while. However, I couldn’t get him alone after that since like I was talking to other people. Then, he had a cob on from still being in a fight with Polly, and he sort of took it out on me. He apologized right away and agreed to dance with me. Right! Forgot to tell you, I asked him to dance but he said no and that I should sit down ‘cause I was drunk. I was a little drunk, but the way he said it— I didn’t appreciate it.”

I squinted my eyes and gestured “a little” with my hands. “Anyway, when we were dancing— I noticed his attention was not fully on me, so I wanted a break. I freshened up, right, and when I came back, he was gone. When I went home, he was at the house instead of his fucking flat— fucking two girls in his room!” I nodded my head as Cassie gasped, covering her mouth.

“Aliena, no way!” She exclaimed while smacking my thigh.

I nodded, tears slightly stinging my eyes. “I dressed up for him, kind of made a move. And he still didn’t choose me.” I gnawed on my lip while shrugging. My gaze was on the floor.

Cassie sighed and grabbed my shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly.

I sighed, dabbing away at my eyes. “It’s like I’m scared, Cass. I’ve been smitten with Tommy for so long, right? Practically obsessed with the man at this point.” I scoffed while rolling my eyes. “I can’t even explain why I’m so taken with him. It’s just like my soul and my heart reach out for him.” I shook my head as my tongue prodded the inside of my cheek.

“I just feel that once I confess to Tom, right, and get rejected… I’m going to throw myself into the world. But in a bad, unhealthy way. It’s hard because we are both not getting any younger and I’m tired of pinning over him, yet I don’t want to confess either.” I hugged Cassie and hid my face in the crook of her neck. “Oh, Cassie. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Cassie hummed, stroking my hair away from my chest and toward my back. She rocked us from side-to-side ‘n we stayed like that.

“Aliena, how did you get that bruise on your chin?” Cassie asked me.

My eyes flew open and they widened in shock. I focused on not tensing my body or changing the pitch of my voice. “The bruise on my chin. Oh, I got it from Arthur. He hit me by accident. He was ‘aving an episode.”

Cassie pulled away from me, violently. Her grip on my shoulders hurt. “Aliena, stop lying to me.”

I scoffed with a smile. I shook my head. “I’m not lying to you-...”

Cassie rose to her feet and shouted. “Stop fucking lying to me! I saw you, okay! I saw you with my dad! Are you-! What are you doing with my dad, Aliena?”

I held Cassie’s gaze for a while before I looked down. I tried racking my brain for a lie, but one wasn’t coming up fast enough. How did I know one didn’t conjure up fast enough? Well, it’s because I was struck across the face.

Cassie slapped me across the face as she sobbed. “Don’t try lying to me, Ali, please. I know you’re trying to think of some kind of story to tell me.” She hissed, “I. Know. You.”

I sighed and looked away. “Cassie, I-!” I swallowed harshly before continuing. “It’s not like I-! Fine, I didn’t want you to know because I don’t want to fucking parade this kind of information around. And it’s not like I could bring it up in easy conversation, okay? I realize I should have told you to avoid a misunderstanding, but again— it’s not fucking dinner or tea time talk.”

I took a breath before I told her everything. “On the morning after I killed the man who raped you, I took a job from your father. It was a contract killing. He paid me £1,500 to kill some lawyer, and I killed him. That’s what I’ve been doing, okay? I’m a contract killer, an assassin, a murderer. Cassie!” I rose to my feet and gripped her forearms. I jerked her around as I yelled. “Huh! Well, say something, Cassie! Say something!”

Inside I was nervous out of my mind, but outside I was cold. How was I supposed to feel? Would I lose my best friend? I know we share similar views, but we’re not the same person. We’re both warped, but we only talked about these violent events in theory alone. Now, I was actually committing the things we’ve talked about.

Cassie sniffled before saying, “HOW-! How-?”

“How what, Cassie? Spit it out!”

“How can you do something like that! How can-? Why are you doing this, Aliena? Is it because of me?” Cassie was a mess. She was practically wailing at this point.

I shook my head. My emotions were getting the better of me as I felt my throat constrict and my eyes sting yet again. “Cassie… No. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. I’ve always had it in me. That night, it wasn't the first time I had killed someone. I already knew I was capable of it, and-!” I took a shuddering breath as I averted my gaze to the ceiling. “When your dad gave me the chance to make that kind of money he was offering, I had to take it.”

I dropped my gaze back at Cassie and cradled her face. “I’m not with you for your money, Cassie. It’s a job. A job I can do well. Please understand, I would never hurt you. Please. Please. Please.”

I kept begging her and hid my face in her neck. Cassie took loud inhale from her mouth, it stammered as she did so. My shoulders shook as I cried into her neck. When I felt Cassie’s hand stroke my hair and the other rub my back, I let my sobs become more vocal.

Cassie and I fell to our knees and we hugged each other. Comforted each other.

I wailed into her neck. “I don't know! I don't know why!”

And I truly didn’t. There’s no real logic as to why I’m assassinating people, not in this situation. I can’t tell her that I’m preparing for a life on my own. I can’t tell her that the money I get from these completed jobs will allow me to live on my own in England or perhaps in America. So, I stuck giving her these stupid nonsensical half-truths.

“You hate me now, don’t you?” I whispered, a hiccup messing up my words.

Cassie replied no with a sigh. “No, of course not, Ali. What hurt the most was that you didn’t tell me sooner. I almost thought that you were prostituting yourself or you were with my dad...intimately.”

I laughed at that. “Oh, Cassie. While your dad is certainly still attractive, I could never do that to you besides...”

“I’m/You’re totally in love with Tommy/Thomas Shelby.”

We belted out with laughter, our foreheads resting together.

Cassie leaned back and wiped away the snot that was leaking from her nose. I did the same. She said softly. “Ali, how could you ever think I wouldn’t understand? We’ve murdered a man together, remember? You fucking idiot.”

I chuckled while shrugging my shoulders. “I just didn’t want to ruin anything.”

“You’re a bloody idiot, Aliena.”

I smiled. “At least, I’m rarely an idiot.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, that’s best for everyone.”

Silence fell between us before she asked. “How does it feel? Killing someone for money.”

I hummed while looking away and hugged my right foot closer to my body. “Well, it depends on the person and the method. But I can tell you one thing. When I see their blood, feel it, it’s like a high I can’t describe. My reactions just become so raw and get the better of me sometimes. Like I just want to smile and laugh hysterically, but I got to run so... I can’t allow myself to do it for too long either. Other times, I feel nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Do you regret it? Like are you haunted by it?”

I shook my head while pursing my lips. “No. Not one bit. It’s a little frightening, to be honest. How I’m so at peace with myself, you know? I don’t know how many people I’ve killed, but I can fall asleep easy at night. Their screams and pleas don’t haunt me.”

Cassie nodded. “You are so badass.”

We laughed again and I pulled her into a hug. “I love you, Cassie.”

“I love you too, Ali.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Me too.”

We parted from our hug a little and shared a kiss. I stroked her cheek with my thumb and stared into her blue eyes.

I whispered. “I think you’re one of my soulmates, Cassie.” My mouth smacked as I said through gritted teeth. “Please, don’t ever leave me or betray me or break my heart.”

Cassie nodded. “Never. I ask you the same.”

I smiled. “Never.”

Cassie joined me in my smile and we hid each other’s faces in our necks.

Thank you, God. Thank you, higher power, for blessing me with my soulmate.

I groaned in discomfort as there was this continuous ringing annoying me. Through squinted eyes, I reached for the phone.

“Suite 226, Ritz Hotel.”

“It’s Tommy. I’m calling a family meeting, get here quickly.”

I tried to find words, but ultimately I said. “Right, yeah. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Good.”

Then, he hung up. I put the phone back on the receiver and flopped back down with a sigh. I looked to my left where Cassie laid asleep on my arm.

“Who was it?” She grumbled.

I was rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I replied. “Tommy. It was Tommy.”

“What’d he want?”

“He’s calling a family meeting. Wants me to be there.” I looked down at her and smiled, sadly. I began to get up, but Cassie wrapped her arms around my stomach preventing me from going any further.

She groaned, exaggeratedly. “Nooo! You’re mine for the weekend. You promised.”

I chuckled as I twisted my body to stroke the top of her head. “Cassie, they probably won’t even need me for that long. I’ll come back.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

I huffed as I roughly rubbed my forehead. “You’re right. I can’t.” There was a silence between us.

Cassie let go, using her hands to support herself. “Fine, whatever. You better come back.”

I smiled as I rose to my feet. “I will! Okay, I’ll see you later. Go on back to sleep.” I patted the pillow I was laying on before walking over to the sofa that had my clothes. I was wearing nothing but a tank top and panties.

I looked back at her just in time to see as she pshed me while moving some of her hair away from her face. “Do you even know what time it is? No, I’ma get ready for the day. Same as you.”

I heard her throw off the duvet and stomp away to, perhaps, her drawers. I picked up my bag and tried some appropriate clothing. I wasn’t intending to see them at all till I came back, so I didn’t pack any “modest” clothes.

Unfortunately, I had to settle with yesterday’s clothes which was, unfortunately, a short, purple floral dress. A very short and modern dress.

As I was tugging on my white, knee-high socks, I asked. “Cassie, could you ring Simmons for me, please?”

“Yeah, alright.”

I rolled my eyes. I really didn’t want her ‘ave a cob on for the rest of the day.

Cassie tapped my shoulder as I was putting on my shoes. “He’s downstairs. Just hop in the car when you’re ready.”

I nodded. “Thanks.” I sat up straight and patted her arm as she was knelt over the sofa. I stood on my knees and gave her a toothy smile. “Forgive me?”

She hummed. “It’s not your fault, so there’s nothing to forgive. But! If you don’t come back, then you’ll have to beg for forgiveness.”

I nodded, tapping her arm a few times before I kissed her on the cheek, and made my way to the door. I put on my coat, and flicked out my hair. “See you later then, Cass!”

“Bye!”

I made my way down and into the car. Simmons already knew where I was headed, so I didn’t have to say anything but a greeting.

I can’t remember the exact reason for this family meeting. Only that I have happiness associated with the memory since I have the urge to laugh, all of a sudden.

I ran a hand through my hair and tried to relax.

I can’t describe how liberating it was to finally tell Cassie. I won’t tell a blag. I was never planning on telling her. I just wasn’t. There was no maliciousness behind it nor guilt from me. I just didn’t see a need for her to know.

But now that she knew and understood, I can rest easy. Well, easier.

“We’re here, Ms. Welsh.”

I smiled at Simmons through the rear view mirror and thanked him as I climbed out of the car.

“Do I wait for you, Miss?”

I stammered for an answer. “Uh, um. N-No. I’ll have someone else drive me. Thank you, Simmons.”

He tipped his hat at me and then started up the car. I twirled around, walked toward the door, unlocked, and walked in. I closed the door behind me, took off my coat, hung it up, and began making my way into the shop.

I barely crossed the threshold when I was taken into someone's arms and spun around. I giggled hysterically, my arms wrapping around John’s neck.

“Here’s the little songbird! We were just talking about ya, Ali.” John shouted in my face.

My jaw dropped as I let out breathy laughs. “Oh, really? Alright, you had your fun. Now, put me down, ya big oaf!” I smacked his shoulder.

“If you want something, you gotta ask nicely. C’mon, Ali. Even my kids know that.”

Tom cleared his throat which caught both of our attention. He scratched his cheek with his thumb before saying, “John, put her down.”

John made a face. A face that asked why, and I smiled smugly at him for it.

“You heard the man. Put me down.”

John scoffed. “I don’t ‘ave to listen to him.”

I “ooohed” at the statement. But my smugness was short-lived as John spun me ‘round again. I held onto the man tighter, but my legs were swinging in the air. I hadn’t wrapped my legs around him in fear of showing anything. That’s how short this dress was.

“John!” Tommy yelled. “Stop spinning her ‘round and put ‘er down!” He made a face, one I couldn’t decipher. And neither could John, apparently.

Arthur’s mouth smacked before he pointed at us with his hand. “John, you’re showing her knickers for fuck’s sake!”

John let me go like I burned him ‘n I was glad for it. I tsked, pulled my dress down, and made sure to smack him across the chest a few good times. John snickered as always.

I hissed while still smacking him. “You fucking divvy!”

John shouted. “All right! All right, Ali! I’m sorry.” He caught my wrists and apologized one more time.

He had such a smile on his face that I couldn’t help but mimic it. I pushed his face away from mine as I muttered. “Oh, do one, will you?” We both snickered before finding ourselves a spot to stand. I was leaning against the wall next to John, my legs a little ways out in front of me. My back was arching and I was paying attention to my nails.

Tom cleared his throat again before walking up to me. He whispered. “Ali, how about you head upstairs and change, eh?”

I snickered at him. Looking at him as if that were the most ridiculous thing he’d ever said. I whispered. “I’m alright.”

His jaw clenched. He nodded his head as he looked away. “Alright.”

I tried thinking of reasons for him telling me that. I wasn’t going to get myself in another situation like the one that just happened. So, what was the big deal? Perhaps, it’s because this dress has a v-neckline as well.

Tom walked away and I never took my eyes off him. I didn’t look away as he looked back at me. It wasn’t a long shared glance since he was the one to break it first.

I sniffled before I bumped my shoulder into John. “Oi, you got a ciggie?��

He shook his head. “Nah, but hold on. Arthur, give one over, yeah?”

Arthur took out his carton, lit one up, and then passed it to John. John passed it to me and I nodded to Arthur.

“Anything for you, songbird.” Arthur chimed.

I chuckled before blowing out the smoke. We had to wait a little more till Polly’s car could be heard pulling up from outside. As Tom told John to get Polly and Michael, I walked over to the table to stub out my ciggie.

I was walking back over to the wall I was leaning against, when I heard the door open behind me.

From behind me, Polly said. “This had better be good to interrupt my holiday.”

I took my place as Polly quickly stood in front of the little table that was in front of Tommy.

“Where’s the boy?” Arthur asked.

As she was setting down her things, she answered. “In the back room. I only brought him because afterwards we're going to the museum.”

John chimed in saying, “He wanted to come in and say hello—”

“Shut up, John. There is nothing of interest to Michael in this room.”

I knew I wasn’t the only one who was shocked by her statement. My eyes blew wide and I fought off a tight-lipped smile.

‘Fuck, her eyes settled on me!’

Polly scoffed. “Ali, what in heaven’s name are you wearing?”

“I-!”

She blinked dramatically ‘n jerked her head back as she did so. Polly held up both of her hands before taking a deep breath and faced Tom. “Oh, Tommy, get on with it.”

My jaw dropped a little and I peered up at John, who gave me a similar look of astonishment.

We both turned to Tommy just as he clasped his hands together again. “Last night, one of our men had his throat cut in Winson Green. This morning, I had a telegram saying it was Sabini who ordered it.”

“And it says here that Thomas Shelby's next.” Arthur said as he ripped up the telegram.

Tommy continued. “If our men think we can't look after them in prison, they'll not work for us. Sabini knows that. So we need to get the Green sorted out. Scudboat, you and one of the boys break a couple of windows, get yourselves arrested. I'll have our coppers get you into the Green and you can find the bastards who did it.”

Scudboat asked. “Instead of breaking a window, can we pinch a car?”

Everybody in the room began snickering, except for Polly, Arthur, and Tommy.

Scudboat continued. “What? Everybody else is getting a bloody car.” It made everyone snicker even harder. “I'm still on a donkey.”

Tommy took back control as he said. “All right, just get yourselves fucking arrested, it doesn't matter how. And before you all laugh, a boy is dead.”

Yes, that’s very sad, but that was too fucking funny.

I turned away and hid myself in the wall, my hands covering my face. I stumbled as John pulled me into a hug. I couldn’t stop bloody laughing!

“He was just a kid. We'll start a fund for his family, Pol.”

“Agreed. So is that it? Can I go now?”

I turned back around and quietly thanked John for helping me.

“Well, as company treasurer, I need your permission to spend 1,000 guineas.”

“On what?”

“On a horse.”

“A thousand guineas on a horse?”

Tommy nodded. “That’s right.”

Polly took a moment, taking a couple of steps back with bewilderment on her face. “When was this decided?”

“You've been busy with Michael.”

“Oh, my God. So, in the absence of common sense, you boys have had an idea.”

“Polly, there's a thoroughbred, quarter-Arab filly up for auction at the Doncaster Bloodstock.”

“What do we want with a 1,000-guinea horse?”

“When we make our move on Sabini's racing pitches, any men we get into the betting enclosure will be lifted by Sabini's police. A good racehorse is a passport to the owner's enclosure.”

I knew Arthur was about to chime in and soon after that it would be Loose Lips McGee over here. I began rubbing my lips together harshly as a way to hide my smile.

Arthur said. “We'll be in there with all the toffs. Coppers won't know where to look.”

“Hmm.” John began. “Yeah, the Epsom Derby, Pol. We'll be drinking with the bloody king.”

Polly exclaimed “The Derby?”

Tommy and Arthur both looked at him mean. I snickered and whipped my head away. I used my hair as a shield.

“Did he say the Derby?”

I cleared my throat, faced them again, and held one of my wrists in front of me tightly. I was still rubbing my lips together. A sharp pain erupted on my chest and I groaned softly. I snarled at John and struck him back while hissing, “Watch it! You hit my boob.”

He resorted to snickering.

Tommy sighed, almost defeatedly. “That’s right.” He cleared his throat. “For the last 10 years, Sabini's made it his race. If we're going to take him down, might as well make it there, as a symbol.”

Polly asked. “Did you come up with this idea in a pub by any chance?”

“Pol, good racehorse is an investment, like property. We need to diversify the portfolio.”

‘That’s a load of bullshit!’ I smacked my hand over my mouth and rocked on my heels.

“So when is this sale?”

“Tomorrow.”

Arthur said. “Tommy's had a death threat, so we'll have to go with him for protection.”

Rather irritated, Polly said. “So, you're going to close up the shop, go out on a piss-up and blow 1,000 guineas on a horse that's not even whole Arab.”

Curly’s laughter caught everyone’s attention. “Quarter-Arab is better! Quarter-Arab, it means—”

“Curly, shut up.”

That’s when Michael came ‘round from behind John ‘n stood beside him.

Polly was quick to yell at John. “I thought I told you to lock that door.”

Michael said. “He did. I used the key on the nail. Look, I've been listening. I want to go with them.”

Polly flailed her hands up as she yelled. “You see?” She was looking right at Tommy. Crossed her arms when she was done.

Michael tried pleadin’ his case. “I love horses. I could even help.”

“Over my dead body!”

“It'll be all right, Mum.”

I couldn’t help but notice how much Polly softened as Michael called her mum.

“I've been to loads of horse auctions before with my uncle. They're very respectable. People bring their butlers.”

With a glass raised near his mouth, Arthur added. “Yeah, and their posh wives!”

“And their mistresses.” John said as he elbowed his cousin, playfully.

Arthur said while takin’ a drink. “Let him come, Polly. We'll go there, buy an 'orse, come back.”

John tried helping his cousin as he said. “I'll drop him back at the house in Sutton before it gets dark.”

Polly began shaking her head, tears barely forming in her eyes. “No. Fucking no.”

I pulled back my lips making an “Eee” kind of face before pursing them and looking away with my eyes closed. I knew all three of them were disappointed like little kids. Like little kids being told they can’t have a sleepover.

I could hear as Michael walked away then papers ruffled, and finally, the slam of the door.

Polly looked at Tommy, who was nodding.

He smacked his mouth before saying, “All right, that's it. Back to work. Come on!”

I headed out, posthaste. I caught up with Arthur and clapped my hands on his shoulders.

“Arthur!” I shouted. “Give me a ride to Cassie’s, will ya?”

“Cassie? Your mate’s?”

I nodded while humming.

“All right, hop in the car.”

After Arthur dropped me off at Cassie’s, we soon got a call from Angie. Said she wanted us to be at some event next morning. It was really fancy and I would have to dress nice. There was to be a dress code as well. All white. So, the next morning, Simmons dropped me off at the house in Sutton. As Michael was getting ready to go to the auction— I got ready for the event.

I wore a real modern dress. I got it made by the same person who Tina had make my birthday dress. It was a white, spaghetti strap, fit-and-flare dress. I had a white, fur-lined coat to go with it.

I barely styled my hair, just swept it to one side, really. My make-up was done in lighter shades and I added on jewelry. Had on my heart-shaped locket necklace and wore my pearl earrings.

When I was done slipping on my white heels, I trotted downstairs. I peered into the living room to see Michael showing off his new suit to Polly. I chuckled breathily at the sight before stepping outside.

I waited on the steps for Cassie to come ‘n pick me up. I rummaged through my purse for my lighter and my cigarette case. I put one between my lips and lit it up. I took a long pull and then slowly exhaled. My coat fell from my shoulders and into the crooks of my arms, but I didn’t care to hike it back up.

When I saw that ugly truck pull up, I smiled. I knew it was them ‘cause of the episode. John parked then hopped out of the car. I met him halfway as I ran into his arms.

I squealed as he twirled me around in the air.

“What’s up with your clothes nowadays, Ali? Looking like a rich girl.”

I cackled, mischievously with my head thrown back.

I was put down for a second before I was whisked up in the air again.

Arthur boomed. “Isn’t she a sight Tommy?” He set me down then hugged me from behind.

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh, let me go! Don’t mess up my hair!” I broke free from Arthur’s hug and pushed him away from good measure. With my free hand, I patted down my hair.

“Eh, where you going lookin’ like that, Aliena?” John asked.

I sighed. “One of my friends invited me to a party-event-thingy! It has a dress code. All white. And it’s posh people only, hence, the extravagance!”

I looked at Tom from the corner of my eye. I couldn’t read his face.

He nodded before asking, “ And who paid for the dress, Ali?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. I took a drag before I said. “I did.”

He clicked his tongue and said “oh,” almost mockingly.

I walked closer to him and shoved him, playfully. “I’m not telling you a blag. I bought it myself. I had it custom made. Tina referred me to her dressmaker.”

He hummed and nodded.

I prodded my cheek with my tongue. I gave him a shit-eating grin as I said. “You know, the event is for horses. There's going to be a game of polo or something.”

“Lucky you.”

I scoffed. I didn’t manage to make him smile. Yet. I tiptoed, gaining some leverage by using his shoulder as I whispered into his ear. “You know, Polly’s inside making sandwiches for youse.”

“What?”

I let go, covering my mouth as I nodded. “She’s making sandwiches and put tea in a canteen.”

Tommy ran his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip before smiling while shaking his head.

When there was screeching down the road, our heads whipped around to see who it was. Angie pulled up, roughly.

“Oi, Aliena! Get your arse in this car! I’m about to kill Cassie.” Angie screamed while leaning out the window.

Cassie peaked out her head shouting, “Ali, she’s being mean to me.”

I squeezed my eyes shut looking away from them. I tsked, opening my eyes, and flicking my ciggie away. “Shut up, will youse? You’re fucking embarrassing me!” I shouted at them.

Arthur passed us, saying, “This kid. Fuck it! I’m honking the ‘orn.”

I giggled at the man. I sighed looking back at Tommy. I ran a hand over his arm before I said. “Good luck with your horse, Tommy, and be careful.”

“Yeah, I will. Have a good time.”

While walking backward toward Angie’s car, I replied. “Oh, I will!” I turned around and walked correctly. Just as I hopped inside the car, Arthur began his honking. I giggled again.

The event was fucking boss, la. I never thought I would have so much fun at a posh party. The only reason it was fun was ‘cause my friends made it so. Angie and Horace had so much sexual tension, but Angie-! She was playing the game. Good for her.

I mean the dude has liked her since childhood, but men! “Men go for whoever their dicks point at,” as Polly said. Cassie ended up meeting a man. Oh, he was so handsome!

If I wasn’t so in love with Tommy, I would have wanted to pay this lad some attention. Name was Douglas Clayborne. Anyway, she ended leaving me alone for ‘em. Not that I minded. I wasn’t as anxious as I used to be when I was younger.

Psh! I was, I would have prevented her from leaving with him. I would have asked to join them, at the very least. But that phobia’s been squashed. I’ve killed more than twenty people in my life. There’s no room to still be anxious about the world.

I’m the danger people have to worry about now.

Anyway, Horace ended up driving me home. Tina and Angie were incapacitated. When I walked through the door, Polly was there near the entrance of the living room. She was clearly not expecting it to be me, but greeted me, nonetheless.

I told her all about my day. As I was talking, Michael came home. She asked how it was, smelled his breath, and did all that. I smiled as Michael told her a blag.

When we both headed upstairs, I congratulated him for being about to lie. He smirked saying he had no clue what I was talking about.

After that I went to get undressed; however, I was pulled back down soon after. John had thrown pebbles at my window. He came to get me to help with Arthur. I sneaked downstairs and hopped into the car. He told me what happened, even though I already knew.

I spent the night tending to Arthur’s knuckles, cleaning off any blood on him, and then getting him into new clothes. That took a while and some persuading. I had to crash on the couch once I got him to sleep.

Fucking, christ! Can’t have one thing to myself. I sighed, exhaustedly.

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#in another world #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby fluff #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine

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greekgeek21 · 3 years ago

Text

Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - they steal an old pirate ship

I'm alive!! I'm so sorry for just ditching you guys, but I was in Shasta for a week and didn't have any internet access so I wasn't even able to say that I was gonna not update. But I hope this nice, semi-long chapter makes up for it! Reminder that this is also available on FF, Inkitt, Ao3, Webnovel, and Wattpad

On a completely different note, I'm going to be starting to write a book. Like, a real published book. It'll take a few years but I'm determined and I love the idea I thought of so if any of you are interested, email me at [email protected] and I might be willing to send some samples. I want input, badly. And all the people in my life are biased. Total strangers on the internet are totally made for this, right?

I recently got into readers marauder era fanfics and I'm already in too deep, gays (and yes I meant to say gay, we all know it if you're reading pjo fanfiction). There is no escape.

Anyway, I'm running out of prewritten chapters, so I have to get to writing that while preparing to write a book. Wish me luck! Happy pride month! 🏳️‍🌈✨

- your author

Ω ♆ Ω

"Run it by me again. Just one more time," Steve asked, still highly confused.

They had made it to Florida and were now at a private dock. Percy had just briefly explained his control over any water vehicle and the Captain was not getting the point.It was understandable. Percy still barely got it.

However, they didn't have a whole lot of time, and every second they wasted discussing Percy's weird powers was another second Annabeth's captors had to hurt her. They did not have time for this.

"We are going to steal a boat, and I'm going to sail us the rest of the way," Percy sighed.

"Ok, but, how are we going to sail it if only you know how to do it?" Steve asked.

Even Piper was getting frustrated now. "He can control the boat! We won't have to do anything! The boat will listen to his will! Oh my gods!"

"But how is that possible!?" Steve shouted.

"How would I know?! I was just born with the freaky powers!" Percy yelled right back, getting fed up with this never-ending conversation.

Jason decided to cut in before things got too out of hand. They had to save Annabeth.

"Guys! This doesn't matter! What matters is that we save Annabeth, and we can't do that if we're stuck here arguing over something that is out of our control," he said.

Percy huffed. "He started it."

Hazel rolled her eyes. "How does Annabeth put up with you?"

"Honestly? No idea," Percy smirked.

"Let's just get going, team. We have a boat to steal, right?" Tony asked.

"Yep. And I think this place has the perfect one for the job." The son of Poseidon then started walking away, apparently following his weird sailing powers.

I guess we're supposed to follow him, thought Piper.

Ω ♆ Ω

"This is supposed to take us through the most cursed waters on the planet?" Bruce asked, looking the boat up and down.

"Yes. Isn't it beautiful?" Percy said and smiled, running his hand along the side.

Tony leaned over to Frank. "Is he seeing the same boat we are?"

Frank just shrugged, used to Percy's weirdness by now. Honestly, it was a little hard for him to imagine the team taking what was in front of them to Polyphemus' island. It seemed like it wouldn't survive the normal ocean.

To be clear, what Percy was suggesting they take was an old pirate ship, currently on display inside of a warehouse at the dock. It was covered in dried-up barnacles, and the mast was split in half. There were also holes all along the sides. It was a miracle the thing hadn't crumbled already.

"Yes, Tony, I am. This thing will run for me. It doesn't even need to be repaired, I can handle that. The only thing that matters is that it is built to withstand the type of waters we're going out in," Percy said. "We need all the advantages we can get."

Natasha, to everyone's surprise, spoke up, "I think we should trust Percy. If he says it'll work, then it'll work. He's the son of Poseidon, right? Nothing can hurt us while in the ocean. Am I correct, Percy?"

Jason cleared his throat and gave Percy a significant look. The Avengers needed to know that they were basically powerless in the triangle. The older teen looked ready to explain, but Frank spoke before he had the chance.

"Actually, no. The Sea of Monsters is outside of Poseidon's realm of power, hence the name. Percy won't have the same access to his father's domain as he does out here," he said, "So, basically, we're entering a dangerous situation, with no backup, and an inexperienced team. Should be fun, right?"

The Avengers were shocked, to say the least. Not at what the boy had said, but who had said it. As far as they had seen, Frank wasn't as confident as his physical form portrayed. They were wrong. Frank was confident, and his friends were proud of him for it, too. It had been a large transformation from when Percy had first met the son of Mars.

"Well, I think we should start heading out. We want to get as far as possible before the sun goes down, right?" Piper asked.

"Right," Percy nodded.

She wasn't really certain about all of this sailing stuff. Sure, she had been on the Argo II, but that was different than an actual boat. For one, it could fly and was controlled by a gaming console. She hadn't really bothered learning how to actually run a ship for that.

But now, she had to act like she knew what she was doing, and that was scary. The Avengers may put on a confident front, but she saw the insecurities in all of them. Some were harder to find than others, but finding insecurities was her specialty.

They really were going into a completely unknown situation. At least Piper and the Seven had been in this world for a little while, but the Avengers hadn't even encountered a monster before. It would sure be a shock when they were faced with some of the worst ones for their first fights. So, she and the rest of the demigods had a responsibility to be the examples, no matter how much the "adults" liked to point out that it was "ethically wrong" for them to do that.

Ω ♆ Ω

Turns out, the kid hadn't been lying about being able to sail the ship. Tony would be the first to admit that he was skeptical of the structure of the vessel, but he was proved wrong when, after the group had gotten the thing into the water, it had started to magically prepare itself for departure. Not a single drop of water leaked into the interior; it was like the water simply moved around the holes.

It was spectacular!

Before he knew it, the group had settled into the boat and were moving away from the dock. The Avengers were marveling at everything around them, considering that Percy wasn't even steering the thing, and yet it was supposedly moving in the right direction. To add to the shock, the ship's parts were moving themselves. It was not logically possible, and yet there Tony was, watching it unfold like some kind of acid trip.

"This is...amazing," he muttered, leaning against the rail with Leo, who he had taken a certain liking to. They were a lot alike.

The son of Hephaestus grinned, "Right? I told you guys Percy had cool powers. You should see him with Blackjack or Arion. It's wacky, man!"

"Who's Blackjack and Arion?" Tony asked, noting the new names.

"Oh. Right, I forgot. Blackjack is Percy's pegasus, and Arion is Hazel's horse. Percy can talk to them because his father created horses," Leo answered.

And just when the man of iron was getting used to all of this, he was pulled back into astonishment.

Ω ♆ Ω

After a couple hours of mingling and exploring, Percy called the team up to the deck. He had started to feel it a while ago when he knew it was still a distance away, but now he knew that they were approaching the Sea of Monsters.

It was a blank spot for him. Everywhere else, he could feel the ocean's power thrumming, waiting for him to control it. But here, there was nothing. Considering they were in the middle of the ocean, it was pretty obvious what it was. That was how he had tracked the place down without a map. It was his blind spot. He would just follow the blankness like it was the North Star.

Once everyone had gathered, he told them the news, and to say the atmosphere changed was an understatement. What smiles they had had disappeared, and their expressions turned serious.

"It's time, guys. Get ready. The first thing we're going to come up on is Scylla and Charybdis. We have to go through them to get into the sea. Now, I've planned this so that we should hopefully be able to pass through without any problems, but with six demigods' luck, we shouldn't rely on that too much. Charybdis only feeds three times a day, so if I planned this right, we should be able to pass over her without a fuss. Everyone got it? Be prepared for a fight, but don't expect it, please. We don't need any more reasons for the Fates to curse us."

Hazel stepped up, "Should the Avengers help us if we end up fighting something? Or should they just observe how we deal with monsters first?"

"We can handle ourselves," Steve defended.

Jason sighed, fed up with the same old arguments, "Alright, that's it! The Avengers will let us take the lead in any fights we may or may not end up in. They will not do anything without one of our approvals because we have actual experience with these beings. They will not be put on the sidelines, but they will also not be on the front lines. Does that work for everyone?"

Percy sent a thankful grin to his cousin, "Thank you, Jason. And yes, it does."

Jason just nodded in return.

"Alright, gang! Buckle up! Make sure to keep your hands and feet inside the ship at all times, and remember, the sword points away from you. It's showtime!" Leo cackled.

Just as he finished, they entered a wall of mist, which was unsettling to say the least. The temperature dropped almost three degrees as they passed through it.

Percy pulled out Riptide before steering the ship towards Charybdis. Hopefully, if everything went to plan, they would be out of this Hades-forsaken place by sunrise.

But, of course, nothing ever went to plan on a demigod's quest.

Ω ♆ Ω

Maybe it wasn't the best idea for me to come, was Bruce's first thought as he got his first glimpse at a greek monster. He had taken refuge inside the sleeping quarters of the ship, practicing his breathing exercises. He was really hoping this didn't turn into a Code Green. This was definitely not the place to let the Hulk loose.

So far, it had been silent upstairs, so Bruce concluded that it was going good so far. He had researched the Greek and Roman myths before they had left and on the plane, and everything that he could find on Charybdis was not reassuring. It was true what Percy said, that she only ate three times a day, but nobody really knew when those times were. Until Percy, apparently. He had survived the Sea of Monsters, so everyone on this ship had to trust his judgement in everything they did here. Bruce could tell that the other Avengers were struggling with taking orders from a "child." But Bruce had learned to not underestimate anyone on his travels while in hiding. Plus, look up any demigod's name and there was a whole list of accomplishments to find.

If Percy said that he knew when the monster liked to eat, then he knew when the monster liked to eat. It was as simple as that.

So, ten minutes into their first obstacle, and things were going fine. Everyone was eerily quiet, but no sign of Charybdis or Scylla yet. Of course, as soon as someone thought about it, an outline of a serpent appeared in the fog surrounding the boat.

Frank was the first one to spot it. "Guys..." He looked up at Percy. "We have a problem."

He pointed into the fog and Percy cursed. "Oh schist. I knew she couldn't just leave us alone."

The Avengers had figured out that something was coming and were unsure what to do. The demigods seemed to be just waiting like sitting ducks for the thing to attack them, and that was not a good plan. The Avengers don't wait for their opponent to strike first.

"Alright, that's it. I'm going to see what it is," Tony mumbled, activating his Iron Man armor.

"No, Tony! That's not a good-" Piper got cut off as the billionaire flew off, "...idea."

If she couldn't yell at that idiot, she was gonna yell at his teammates. She turned around, prepared to cuss out some idiot "superheroes," but Hazel beat her to it. "What was he thinking?! Why didn't you idiots stop him?! He has no idea what he's getting himself into! That monster is NOT something you guys can handle without our help! Mortalium tam stultus!"*

Natasha appraised the small demigod. She sure was a young spitfire. And from what she had seen already, a powerful one.

"Ok, let's just calm down, alright? Tony should be able to hold his own until we can go save his stupid ass," Leo sighed. Working with mortals was draining.

They were always so brash about things. And yes, coming from a greek, that statement was pretty hypocritical, but it still wasn't a lie. He idolized Mr. Stark's work, but man if only the guy could learn some restraint and he would be perfect.

Just as Leo had spoken, an explosion was heard, followed by a muffled string of curses. Only Tony Stark could come up with those creative swear words, so at least there was proof that the guy was still alive. For now, at least. The group needed to get that soon.

"Alright, hold on! This is gonna get bumpy!" Percy shouted, steering the ship towards the sound of fighting.

He willed the vessel to move faster, and it, of course, obeyed. In his head, Percy was just thinking rush rush rush. They needed to get this fight out of the way and get to Annabeth right after. Percy was praying to any god that would listen for there to not be any more disruptions to their journey. He just had to be confident in his skills. He had done this before, so he knew what lay ahead of them.

And it was going to be a challenge.

Ω ♆ Ω

Tony would deny any claim of him being held in the mouth of a sea serpent by his leg. Cuz that didn't happen. Totally.

But if it did, then the rest of the questing group would have worked together to fend off the monster until they could get away. Percy would've used Riptide to stab the monster in the leg, while Jason flew up and used his gladius to cut open her eye. The rest of the group basically just put on a full-frontal assault until Scylla released their idiotic teammate. Leo blew some fire, Hazel manipulated the Mist so that the Avengers could all see it for what it was, Piper made it loosen its grip with her charmspeak, Frank and Clint released some well-placed arrows, Natasha fired some gunshots, and Steve sliced into it with his shield.

All in all, the thing realized quickly that it was outmatched.

Then, after Tony received a very stern reprimanding by Piper and Steve, the group carried on. They didn't have time to dilly-dally. Saving Annabeth was their top priority.

Ω ♆ Ω

Meanwhile...

"Let me go, you skatá!"* Annabeth screamed, kicking her captor in the knees.

She had been knocked out as soon as they had shadow traveled, so she hadn't woken up until an hour ago. When she had, her wrists and ankles had been shackled to a stone wall with imperial gold shackles. The terrorists had stepped up their game.

There was dim lighting, but from what she could figure out before, she was in a cave of some kind. They had completely cleared out the area around her, so there weren't any visible location markers. That is, until they moved her.

The people who had grabbed her were strong and bulky and covered in black. They had black combat suits with black ski masks covering their features. Stereotypically, Annabeth would've figured the goons to be stupid, but they kept her shackles on and put a sack over her head so they at least has someone smart on their team.

Annabeth was getting really sick of not knowing anything, though.

So that's where she found herself at the moment: as a "defenseless" hostage. It was quite comical, really. Did these idiots really think that she would go quiet?

She felt one of her kicks come into contact with a kneecap and heard a satisfying grunt of pain from one of the thugs. Good, she thought, I hope that hurt.

Then, she was thrown onto the cold, stone floor and forced to hold her head up. The whole situation was so stereotypical that she wanted to laugh. But then she also didn't want to come off as more psycho than her captors, so she kept it to herself.

"This is quite interesting," a voice said, "The prideful daughter of Athena, reduced to a simple mortal's hostage.

The sack on her head was yanked off, so Annabeth spat down at the man's feet, glaring at him with a burning hatred. Taking a quick survey of the room, Annabeth found that she was being held captive on Polyphemus' island. The room was the main room of his cave; the one where she, Percy, and Grover further blinded the cyclops.

"If you had actually gotten me on your own, it might have been impressive, but having to use monsters is just pathetic," she said.

The leader growled and kicked her in the jaw. It didn't have enough power to break it, but it did cause her to bite through her tongue.

Annabeth spit out the blood produced in her mouth, dirtying the man's shiny shoes. The guy would have to do a lot worse than that to scare her.

"Hmm... I like your spirit. It's going to be that much more fun when I break it," he hissed, kneeling down to her eye level.

"I hope you rot in Hades," is all Annabeth responded with.

The guy laughed. ACTUALLY laughed. So, he was a crazy sociopath hades-bent on tearing down the natural order of the universe, Annabeth decided, how nice.

Ω ♆ Ω

I kinda really love this and I hope you did too. Now, to get into some unasked political shit: Love is love. I like all genders, and I still don't want to see any of them practically having sex in front of me. So just, accept yourself and others for who they are and move on. Is that so hard? Happy pride month & happy Father's Day!!

- your author

PS Remember to comment, like, and reblog!

other chapters :)

Ω ♆ Ω

Bonus scene!

The group was spending time in the dining room of the ship when all of a sudden, Percy remembered something truly horrifying. Like, beyond disgusting!

“Oh, my gods! Guys!!!” he exclaimed.

Hazel rolled her eyes and said, “What, Percy?”

“Charybdis is my half-sister! Ew ew ew ew ew EW EW EW EW!!!” Percy shouted his answer.

Everyone simultaneously gagged.

(Inside, Steve was starting to get seriously concerned about these kids’ chaotic family.)

#happy pride 🌈#pjo #fanfiction #fanfic #pjo fanfic #ao3 #the avengers #mcu #marvel #superheroes #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #wattpad #inkitt #webnovel

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Text

Hello, lovely readers! Welcome back. Buckle up, this chapter — and its accompanying recap — is one of our longest so far.

To start, I am grappling with my surprise over the opening sentence of Chapter Seven:

“Scarlet was disappointed that there’d been no big celebration following reinitiation.”

I’m sorry, reinitiation is over? First, this goes against the expectations set up last chapter. Sun, Velvet, and Scarlet had a whole conversation about how this test looked exactly like normal initiation, so obviously there must be some key difference in order to both differentiate it from regular initiation, and ensure that students originally from Shade don’t have a major advantage. They seemed to expect a twist to this test so I expected a twist too. In fact, as a reader looking for entertainment, a twist was all but assured. Or so I thought. When nothing much happened during Velvet’s adventure — she just drops down the first hole she sees, immediately spots the relic, and dodges some grimm on her way out — I thought, “There must be a Part II coming up.” The airship isn’t taking them back to Shade, it’s taking them to the next sequence in the test. …Apparently not. It really is just like regular initiation.

Second, what about the rest of Team CFVY? What about Team SSSN? We don’t need to follow every character individually (that would indeed take a while), but at least do something similar to what we just got with Velvet and Sun undergoing the same challenge. If I remember correctly, the student body was divided into three or four groups, meaning that by default every member of our teams will be mixed up with someone else and, based on Velvet’s challenge, every airbus team is given the same task. So just show us two more adventures and you’re done. Given how short most chapters are (Chapter Eight is a mere six pages) and the fact that we’ve got twenty-one of them overall, that’s not much of a hardship. As it stands this is… weird. Why Velvet? Why, out of eight separate characters — two of which are team leaders and seemingly more of a main character than she is, as least two others who we know next to nothing about — does she get the extra time and attention? It’s like if RWBYJNR underwent a test but we only heard about Jaune and Blake’s experience, with Jaune dropped halfway through the chapter and everything else is told through Blake’s PoV. Like yeah, that’s technically fine, we can assume they all completed the same task, and Blake is great! But it’s still weird when you’ve got seven other characters to balance.

Not to mention missing out on everything else that I assumed we’d get answers to. Velvet obviously never found Yatsuhashi since we were never given a test section where they were together. How did Yatsuhashi deal with the panic he was struggling with when we left him? Did Fox have to rely on someone else to get him a relic since he couldn’t see them? What does Coco think about all this??

We might get flashbacks at some point, but right now we’re starting Chapter Seven having skipped all of this including, as Scarlet points out, the immediate emotional aftermath. I don’t really care about another Beacon Brigade meeting, I care about the shocking change that was thrown at our characters and changed the whole dynamic of this school… but apparently we’re moving on.

As said, Scarlet is sad there was no party because he, unlike everyone else, is pretty thrilled with the new teams. Yup, they actually changed. At least that’s an engaging development. Especially given how uh… volatile these teams are likely to be. Scarlet now fights with Coco who is no longer the team leader. Instead, it’s a girl named Reese who “didn’t strike [Scarlet] as a born leader. On the other hand, she wasn’t Sun, so she was definitely an upgrade.” Yeah, it becomes clear within a couple of paragraphs that Scarlet straight up hates Sun, rather than simply grappling with frustration over his recent behavior.

He’s likewise critical of the Beacon Brigade, mentally referring to them as a “pity party” which 1. Yikes, Scarlet, people died and 2. Why is he here? It seems like everyone whose perspective we’ve gotten so far — with the exception of Velvet — thinks these get-togethers are a waste of time, yet they continue to attend them. From a writing standpoint it’s easy to see why you’d want these characters there to prompt personal conflict, but I’m confused as to the in-world reasons for why so many of them are sitting through something they only have criticism for. Is it peer pressure? Loyalty to their friends? Lack of anything better to do? The disgust or indifference for this group is well established, though not what makes all these characters attend it anyway.

We’re at least told that Sun was “dragged” here by Velvet which… okay? Why? Last chapter Velvet didn’t particularly like Sun either, so I suppose she’s simply looking to improve him or something? Honestly, the Velvet we’ve given while seeing the world through her eyes and the Velvet of other chapters seem radically different from one another. By that I don’t mean that Velvet sees herself differently than she really is. An example of that would be Ruby thinking that she’s bad at making friends, when in reality she forms deep bonds incredibly quickly.

It’s a characteristic that has always existed, obvious to the viewer too, but Ruby simply doesn’t notice it due to her own self-confidence, self-esteem, etc. Velvet, meanwhile, is written as a different character altogether. The Velvet who exists across most of this book comes across as far quite kind and patient, whereas when we’re in her head Velvet is both internally and externally mean. Her attitude flips on and off like a switch. I know I said last time that Sun’s admiration at her avoiding the Ravagers might finally start changing her tune about him, and that could indeed be an explanation for why she brought him back to the Beacon Brigade, but that doesn’t explain the extreme change in how she holds a conversation with him. Remember that last chapter we had “tough love” Velvet who was insulting Sun almost every chance she got. This Velvet speaks calmly and patiently until Sun understands their reasoning behind forming this group… which yeah, is a good thing. I’m glad someone is offering to explain things to Sun instead of just assuming the worst of him, but we’re nevertheless left with very inconsistent characterization. How and why did this change come about? Will Velvet revert back to tough love? Who can say? Certainly not me.

At least Scarlet’s opinions are clear: “just when [he] was ready to get a little distance from [Sun]” he shows up again. He goes on to think about how he just wanted a fresh start which, okay. Fair. That’s partly the point of this whole exercise and but right now Scarlet is convinced that a fresh start isn’t possible “with Sun in charge.” So Sun as an individual seems to be the problem here, not Scarlet’s team as a whole. Which would likewise be fair if I had a better understanding of where such intense opinions were coming from. In this chapter we’re suddenly told that Sun running off isn’t a new occurrence:

“Well, you were always leaving us and going solo. We were never sure why,” Scarlet said. They might not be on the same team now, but his questions hadn’t gone away.

Sage still had questions, too. “Were we not good enough for you?” he asked.

Okay, that definitely sounds like a legitimate flaw that would alienate your team members from you... but when did this happen? Granted, the answer to this might (again) just be, “In After the Fall, Clyde” but we’re nearly a hundred pages into this book and this issue hasn’t come up before now—something that would be very easy to accomplish when each chapter is changing perspectives. Upon reflection, Sun is doing things semi-solo in a lot of the main series, but that never came across as anything other than an easy writing choice to me. Meaning, Sun originally existed as a faunus friend for Blake, someone outside of Team RWBY to get involved in the White Fang fight. Introducing him as a single character is easier, having him meet with Blake alone makes sense, etc. Not only is the concept of teams existing as a single unit that always does everything together ridiculous, but Neptune was clearly meant to exist as a representation of the rest of the team without having to write three distinct characters alongside Sun every time he comes on screen. Sun is solo on the docks. Sun is at the cafeteria with Neptune. Sun infiltrates the White Fang with Blake. Sun eavesdrops on Team RWBY with Neptune. In the main series I never got the sense that Sun was avoiding his team, only that he had a life outside of his team and that his team was otherwise represented through one guy instead of three. Three wouldn’t have worked for most of these scenes.

All of which isn’t to say that Sun didn’t avoid his team — I’m not claiming Scarlet is lying — only that I’m not convinced we’ve seen that flaw. Which is incredibly common in RWBY. Characters will make quite significant statements and the viewer/reader is left wondering when this thing happened, or why the contradictions we can easily see in the story aren’t acknowledged. If Sun, as leader, has a habit of ditching his friends, both leaving them to function as a team without him and acting as if he doesn’t like spending time with them… then yeah, that’s absolutely something that needs to be addressed. But where is that Sun? Why haven’t I seen that characterization? Every time they’re together his team avoids him (Scarlet being a perfect example). Even Sun baffled by the accusations.

How could he not know? Scarlet wondered.

I don’t know either! This certainly seems to be a misunderstanding, but oddly the one person who can shed some light on the miscommunication doesn’t speak. Sun looks to Neptune in his confusion which makes perfect sense because: Hey, best friend! The guy I do everything with and who functions as clear evidence that I’m not always going solo like Scarlet claims, can you explain what’s going on here? We might have gotten an exchange where Neptune points out that spending time with him doesn’t equal spending time with the whole team, Scarlet and Sage feel left out, and that’s absolutely a claim that would stand up within the canon… but Neptune says nothing. Sun is simply accused of being a horrible leader who doesn’t want anything to do with his team, despite there being very little basis for this in the text. All we’ve got is him leaving with Blake which, as I’ve explained, is something he does need to apologize for. But that’s the conflict we’ve seen, not this broad, wishy-washy claim that Sun is an all around bad person.

What it comes down to is that Scarlet’s disdain is apparently rooted in more than just a single action of Sun’s, it’s apparently a pattern of behavior that he takes issue with, but I haven’t seen him be a particularly bad leader/friend lately. Or, I should say, certainly no worse than everyone else around him, given that this entire group does what they want and insults one another on a regular basis. Sun isn’t an exception in that. Both the book and this conversation feels like an attack on Sun’s character, not the event we know he needs to redeem himself for. When Blake left, Team RWY didn’t speak ad nauseum about how horrible a person she is, not talented enough to fight with them, incapable of doing anything right… insults that are separate from the issue at hand. The mistakes we’ve seen Sun make aren’t aligning with the complaints other characters have about him, but nor is the story acknowledging that his friends might be biased or simply wrong. Basically, like Velvet’s character, it’s a confusing, inconsistent mess.

And if it feels like I’m repeating myself every chapter it’s because the book is repeating itself every chapter. How many times are we going to tell the reader who awful Sun is? We’re nearly a hundred pages in, folks.

I’ve been getting very ahead of myself though. Before we delve into Sun’s apology and the resulting confessions, let’s quickly lay out the new teams. Yatshuhashi and Neptune have ended up together, which explains a certain scene that I know is coming later. I figured that the entirety of CFVYSSSN was conducting their investigation together and some cross team duos came about. Turns out they’re actually part of a team now. It’s an interesting premise! Too bad I know it’s heading in the worst possible direction.

Also, everyone already has color names. That’s the true evidence for non-random assignments! The instructors would never come up with enough color related terms otherwise lol.

“Oh brilliant headmaster, why did you choose to put me on this team? Was it because I worked so well with this peer of mine? Or does my semblance compliment another’s?”

“No, kid. Your name just happens to start with an ‘F’ and we needed one to get an abridged version of ‘Forest.’”

“…ah. I see. One more thing, sir.”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to transfer to a less stupid institution.”

These conversations had to have happened.

Velvet has been paired with Octavia as well as another Beacon hating student named Nebula. No surprise there. Then, just to make sure we don’t go more than a few paragraphs without insulting Sun, we’re told that “poor Sage” is still “stuck with him.” Sage is now the team leader, another choice that Scarlet doesn’t understand. Indeed, he actually says that this is “proof of the utter randomness of the exercise.” I’m both inclined to agree (in the sense that, as said, managing all these team aspects intentionally is nearly impossible) and also point out that by all intents and purposes Jaune should have read as an idiotic choice too. “How can you say that, Clyde? Jaune showed astounding leadership during his own initiation!” No he didn’t. Jaune noticed that a scorpion’s tail was loose, yelled out a generic call to action, Pyrrha figured out what to do, and then he told Nora to finish it off. Jaune said they needed to help get across the gap and help them in the first place (no duh) but Nora is the one who figures out how. It’s really not much, especially compared to things like spending most of his initiation stuck in trees and having no idea how to wield his sword. If Jaune can be made leader Sage should absolutely be given the chance. Everyone should be given the chance compared to the guy who became team leader without knowing what a landing strategy was.

Scarlet concludes all this by saying that “Sun didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by not being the boss,” but remember, when a character is already inclined to think the worst of someone, their assumptions about their emotions aren’t necessarily accurate. We won’t know until/if we get back into Sun’s head whether he’s truly indifferent to these changes or not. Not that Scarlet needs any such confirmation. He decides that Sun “probably didn’t care who was in charge because he wasn’t going to listen, anyway.”

This is still so confusing to me. Did the rest of team SSSN tell Sun not to leave and he blew him off? Am I forgetting a time recently where he made his team do something they didn’t agree with? If not, where is this ‘Sun doesn’t listen to anyone’ criticism coming from? Even if we establish that it’s true — perhaps supported by the free spirit personality Sun wields, though that’s not the same thing as ignoring orders — why is he the only one getting heat for it? Coco doesn’t listen to anyone either. She’s out here metaphorically flipping Rumpole off to conduct an investigation that Sage and Scarlet didn’t seem to agree with, but Sun, trying to integrate everyone into Vacuan culture, is the one who abandons everyone to do what he wants?

But this is normal for RWBY. A flaw is a flaw until it’s applied to the character this story supports, then it becomes something to praise instead. In some respects, this is even more frustrating to experience in the novel because unlike in the webseries, there’s plenty of time here to explain a character’s opinions, show us their memories, lay out the nuance in these relationships, all the techniques that would help convince the reader of a difference in behavior when actions seem pretty identical at first glance… yet here we are, not utilizing that time or, when we are, providing inconsistent information. There have been precious few moments in this novel where I’ve felt like I have a firm handle on a protagonist: what their motivations are, what actions they’ve taken in response to that, how those actions have been received, and whether that reception is justified.

Honestly, the most consistent aspect of this novel is how closely it aligns with the webseires: both texts don’t make good internal sense and leave me scratching my head over what I’m supposed to take away from the story, let alone whether that takeaway makes sense based on what I’ve been shown.

But I promised you all Sun’s apology. Let’s just chuck out the whole thing:

“Here we go again with the Beacon Brigade stuff,” Sun muttered.

“Excuse me?” Velvet frowned. “I thought you came back here to apologize.”

Scarlet laughed. How could she even believe that? “Sun’s pretty bad at apologies.”

“I can apologize!” Sun’s tail swept back and forth.

“Go on, then.” Scarlet said, prompting him.

Sun put his hands into his pockets and looked down. “I’m sorry I said all those mean things and stormed out of here last time,” he said quickly.

“Thank you—” Velvet began.

Sun lifted his head. “But I was only trying to help you understand how elitist this group looks to everyone else.”

Scarlet rolled his eyes. He leaned back to watch the show.

I’m going to fall back on a list for this one.

1. As said in the past, I’m well aware that a story needn’t show us every scene but should rather provide information that allows us to extrapolate things based on the context and basic logic. e.g. “I haven’t read a scene yet where these characters brush their teeth, but I can assume it’s happening and we just don’t see it because that’s incidental to the plot and would (theoretically) be boring.” In fact, a story that provides too much information—be it in world building, characterization, every detail of the current event—will often have failed in one of its core intentions: entertainment. I get that. However, it feels like more often than not RWBY struggles to pinpoint which moments should be shown and which should be relegated off screen. I, for one, would have liked to see this conversation between Velvet and Sun. Not because a conversation inviting him to another Beacon Brigade meeting is inherently exciting, but because we’ve been given a context wherein such a conversation is significant for both of their developments. Velvet was incredibly critical of Sun last chapter. Now she’s “dragged him” back to this meeting. Is it because she’s changed her tune about him, or because she hopes to change him further? That’s important. Sun, last we saw, was digging his heels in regarding the meetings, the new teams, and the refugees’ overall approach to living at Shade. Now, Velvet tosses out that he “came back here to apologize.” What changed Sun’s mind and got him to admit he overstepped? Or is Velvet wrong in her assumption about what he intended to do? This story is character driven—we’ve gotten very little action thus far, none of which has been integrated into the emotional stakes—yet consistently the story fails to answer questions like, “What does this character want?” “What made them change their mind about this?” and “Do we trust their perspective and interpretation of events?” Like skipping out on everyone else’s reinitiation, it’s impossible to get invested in the “development” of characters when we’re always unclear about where they started, where they’re heading, and what in the world happened to enact any change we see between chapters.

2. Similarly, we’re told that “Sun’s pretty bad at apologies.” Did anyone else know this prior to Scarlet announcing it to the group (the reader)? Yes, Sun has yet to apologize for leaving with Blake, but that is, as I’ve stated above, one event that is not necessarily indicative of a behavioral trend. I’d much rather have known a Sun across the webseries and this book who consistently demonstrates an inability to admit when he’s wrong, not simply be told that by a character when it becomes relevant to the scene. Or, at the very least, allow our time with characters like Scarlet to provide that information in a more persuasive, fulfilling manner. Maybe he thinks about all the times Sun has let him down and then refused to acknowledge it. Maybe we get another flashback to a similar event that this is reminding Scarlet of. Maybe he and Sun actually talk and we get a sense of how this opinion formed. Something other than an announcement simply informing us of an impactful character flaw that we haven’t seen up until now.

3. Especially given that Sun does apologize and it’s not a bad apology either, it’s just that he’s chosen to apologize for the things he’s actually sorry for: saying mean stuff and storming out. It takes a lot to admit that two of his responses weren’t appropriate and there’s enough specificity and sincerity here that Velvet immediately accepts it with a “Thank you.” Where Sun arguably messes up is in continuing his apology with a “But…” yet here I’d like to reiterate that the simplistic advice we find on tumblr isn’t applicable to every situation. Meaning, I’ve seen a lot of posts lately about apologies, reminding people that it should be about acknowledging how you hurt someone regardless of your intentions, not using your intentions as an excuse for your actions. I agree with that. I likewise think Sun did this. He admits that he hurt people despite not meaning to and he owns up to that, even if he does so in a quickly, clearly uncomfortable manner. Acknowledging that you hurt someone despite your intentions doesn’t mean that your intentions can never be brought up again. If I accidentally insult someone in the act of confronting them about, say, destructive behavior, I should indeed apologize for that… but that doesn’t mean the issue itself—the destructive behavior—is forever off the table. It’s an important topic and Sun likewise has an important topic he’s trying to broach again, this time in a more respectful manner. Sun is sorry for the cruel things he said, he’s sorry for storming out, he’s sorry for how he responded to things… but he’s not sorry for his opinion about the situation itself, and that’s fair. Apologizing for your behavior does not require that you suddenly agree with the person you’ve hurt. Indeed, it’s only Sun challenging the group again—this time in a non-insulting, non-storming out manner—that the group itself realizes that they haven’t been clear about their own intentions. The issue was never whether the group is a good thing or a bad thing, but rather that the group didn’t bother to explain to Sun why they were doing this in the first place, leaving him to come to his own conclusions—and then getting upset when those conclusions turned out to be inaccurate. Up until this moment, no one in this room is inclined to spend time with Sun, let alone ensure that he has an accurate view of what this group means, so is it any surprise that he took things at face value? The group who named themselves after Beacon doesn’t want to be a part of Shade. That’s what it looks like on the surface and thus, that’s what he assumed.

4. Despite the complexity of this situation—by far the best Myers has managed thus far in this novel—Scarlet doesn’t acknowledge any of it. Not the group’s behavior towards Sun that resulted in a lack of understanding, not Sun’s understandable assumptions, not his inappropriate response to them, nor his apology. Scarlet said Sun was bad at apologies and Sun just proved him wrong… but acknowledging that requires likewise acknowledging everything in the above paragraph. Scarlet doesn’t want to think about what Sun is apologizing for vs. concerns he still has, he just hears a “But” and “rolled his eyes" to “watch the show.” What’s perhaps the most strange about all this — and the easiest to pinpoint as a potential problem — is that Scarlet agrees with Sun. He thinks the Beacon Brigade is a waste of time too! In another story I would expect to either a) have Scarlet grudgingly admit that Sun had a point, helping to lead him to some realizations about his bias, or b) have the story itself acknowledge that Scarlet is interested only in criticizing Sun no matter what he might actually say or do. If we boil the conversation down we’ve got:

[Scarlet is critical of the Beacon Brigade]

[Sun is critical of the Beacon Brigade]

[Scarlet ignores that tie between them]

and

[Scarlet thinks that Sun isn’t capable of apologizing]

[Sun apologizes]

[Scarlet ignores this]

This trend is likewise seen at the start of the meeting when Scarlet goes, “The gall of it. It was so obvious what Sun was doing—he was practically gleeful to be rid of his teammates” in response to Sun not seeming devastated by the changes. It’s the same situation we got last chapter with Velvet, wherein one character’s interpretation of a situation — Sun doesn’t look sad enough to my liking — doesn’t necessarily match up with reality. Indeed, when Scarlet throws out another accusation we’re shown precisely how inaccurate his perspective is:

“I guess it’s not hard to move on when you’re always moving, huh?” He sat up straight and looked at Sun. “Just how ecstatic are you to be moving on from us? Be honest. While we’re at it, maybe you can explain why.”

Sun was taken aback. “What?”

Sun is shocked by the idea that he’s “ecstatic” over these changes because he’s clearly not. There’s so much miscommunication among these characters and, thus far, incredibly little done to resolve it. This conversation explaining the Beacon Brigade to Sun is the major exception and, as a result, is one of the only worthwhile scenes. I feel like our characters have finally changed in some way. Yet to continually balance out any enjoyable bits, Scarlet’s bias stands in contrast to this improvement we see with Sun. It’s even more obvious when we factor in Scarlet’s revelation about Nolan in the same conversation. Despite witnessing nothing nearly as concrete as an apology when he said apologies weren’t something Sun was good at, Scarlet comes to the conclusion that he had been “underestimating Nolan all this time” and seems, from a single comment, to form a much higher opinion of him. The kicker is that not only does this moment not jumpstart a similar revelation regarding Sun, but is rather used as another segue into criticism of him: “Just like Sun had been underestimating the rest of them. But would Sun ever see that?”

Sun is indeed blind to some things, but so is Scarlet. Arguably more-so. At least here we see Sun listening to the others and flat out admitting that he was wrong. The confusing nature of Scarlet’s anger — is he upset about the Blake incident or something that seems to exist ‘off screen’? — coupled with his inability to acknowledge the improvements Sun is striving to make when they’re literally happening right in front of him, makes for a frustrating read. So as always: Yay flawed characters? It’s just too bad that this cast seems to be made up primarily of flaws and are doing incredibly little to improve themselves. Unless you factor in things like Velvet’s randomly changing personality.

As said though, I think the group does a good job explaining their perspective to Sun, largely because they bother to take a moment to connect with him, see how and why he came to these conclusions, and respectfully lay out their own perspective. Velvet explains that names are important, a part of your identity, and thus when they came to Vacuo they wanted a new name to reflect their new life. “Beacon was the obvious choice.” By the end of the scene Sun freely admits his mistake — “Maybe I was wrong,” Sun said — but still maintains that his misunderstanding stemmed from something. All of these (somewhat convoluted) explanations involving names, identity, belonging, moving on, but keeping their past is in no way obvious when you just hear the name Beacon Brigade. “‘Well, you’ve been sending a mixed message with this group, at least to Vacuans,’ Sun said stubbornly” except that “stubbornly” is uncharitable because he’s right. Not about the Beacon Brigade being a useless waste of time like we saw a few chapters back, but about the name and meeting sending the wrong message without that complicated context attached. The name alone has no connection to Vacuo. The name sounds like they’re refusing to move on. The name is also weirdly about being an army despite this being a therapy group, but we’ve already mentioned that. The statements “Your reasons for having this group and naming it this are valid,” “It’s not your fault that the Vacuans are refusing to accept you,” and “On the surface that name and these meetings send an unintended bad message that doesn’t help your already iffy social status” can and all do exist simultaneously.

The fact that Sun is using this opportunity to understand where the Beacon Brigade is coming from, but the Beacon Brigade is continually insisting that his perspective has no merit, just reinforces that the only one undergoing any growth here is Sun. Which, coming into this novel, I would have said is justified. He abandoned his team! He followed Blake! He listened in on her private conversations! He hasn’t even apologized to his team yet! Sun obviously has things to work on. But the expectation of him being the most in need of improvement rests on those around him being more level-headed, empathetic, talented people than he is… and they’re not. In this novel, the people Sun has hurt can be just as stubborn and cruel, making just as many iffy decisions. So when we’ve got a whole school of incredibly flawed teens, with one individual clearly striving to do better while the others endlessly pile on him… uh, I’m in that guy’s corner. At least I understand how Sun’s development is coming about, unlike Velvet. At least Sun admits when he’s made mistakes, unlike Coco and Scarlet. At least Sun hasn’t done anything close to the horror that I know is coming with Fox and Yatsuhashi…

So yes, to say that this scene and its resulting implications is complicated is an understatement. For the love of God, let’s move on.

We get another flashback, this time to Team SSSN arriving in Vacuo to meet with Headmaster Theodore and Rumpole. Recall that we were shown the exact same situation with Team CFVY… but wow is Theodore different here. Previously, I praised his compassion and ability to inspire new students because in that scene it was clear he was thrilled to have Team CFVY joining his school. Theodore is not thrilled to accept Team SSSN and I’m honestly unclear as to why. Both did well in the Vytal Tournament, which is something Rumpole apparently looked over when evaluating the students. Both participated in — and survived — the Battle of Beacon. Both are here now, hoping for a new place to call home, yet the reception SSSN receives is distinctly frosty.

Granted, this is at least partly because we’re still seeing things through Scarlet’s perspective, but that doesn’t cover everything. Theodore starts the flashback by reminding them that he believes “Actions speak louder than words,” to which Sun wholeheartedly agrees. Rather than acknowledging that they have similar outlooks, Rumpole tells him to be quiet — “[she] put a finger over her lips” — and when Sun doesn’t seem to notice the gesture Scarlet interprets this as him being “cocky.” That… doesn’t really line up. Regardless, Theodore is interested to know why Sun didn’t attend Vacuo if he grew up here, seeming to read that choice as some sort of insult towards him and his school: “He exchanged a look with Professor Rumpole. Then he looked sternly at Scarlet, Sage, and Nexpeptune.” When Sun explains that he wanted to see more of the world before settling down, Theodore and Rumpole jump on the word choice.

Sage snickered. Rumpole’s eyes flashed gold.

“So you think of Vacuo as ‘settling’?” Theodore asked.

Wait.

Excuse me, educator, but the phrase “settling down” is not comparable to “settling.” The former means to live a quieter, stable life usually after, yes, traveling the world for a time. It has few (if any) negative connotations. In fact, it’s quite positive. The implication is that you’ve been to many places, seen a great deal, experienced much of what life has to offer you, and now you’re choosing this place as your home. It’s also framed after a sought-after end goal. The weary hero longs to settle down but is unable to due to their quest. Settling down with friends and family is the prize given at the end of a story. It’s good. In contrast, “settling” for something does have a number of negative implications attached to it. It suggests that it’s not what you want, but you’re willing to put up with it at the end of the day given that you have no other choice. It’s second or third best, at most, but you’ll tolerate it. The concept of settling for something is insulting because it says that given different circumstances, you never would have chosen it.

Sun says he’s “settling down” in Vacuo; this is the home he’s choosing. Theodore and Rumpole both interpret this as “settling;” he’s choosing them only because he has to. But why? Where did this interpretation come from? Schools were a mix of people from different kingdoms long before Salem shook things up, so why is Sun getting heat for going to Mistral? Especially with the rather persuasive justification of, ‘I’d like to see more than just my backyard, thanks’? Are Vacuans so xenophobic that the mere act of one of their own leaving for a short time makes them an outsider? Why is this never explained then? Why doesn’t Sun, the Vacuan, understand this and seek to defend himself?

I’m still so confused, folks!

Things just go downhill from there. Sun asks if he can call Theodore “Theo,” which doesn’t go over well.

“No!” barked Theodore and Rumpole at the same time.

“Right. Sorry. Professor—”

“Headmaster.”

This is unnecessarily strict. As someone who has known a number of “You must refer to me as ‘Doctor’” people, I have never heard a single one “bark” out a negative in response to asking about using a different address. They respectfully correct a student because instructors — and people in general — should strive to be respectful. Then Theodore nitpicks about “Professor” vs. “Headmaster.” A look back at what I read does show a consistency of students addressing him as “Headmaster,” but if that’s a preference why not just say that? As it is, the curt correction feels like he’s trying to limit Sun’s options, especially when we’ve heard others like Ozpin be referred to as “Professor.” It’s not exactly a weird mistake.

Then Theodore goes,

“And which of you is the leader again? I know it’s not Neptune, but you can tell that just by looking at him.” Neptune’s jaw dropped.

What is wrong? With this cast?? Theodore was a splendid Headmaster whom I loved a few chapters back, now suddenly — as soon as he’s talking to Team SSSN — he’s become downright mean. What the absolute hell was that comment? “You can tell that just by looking at him”? That’s so insulting! He’s another Velvet, turning basic compassion on and off depending on who he’s speaking to, yet I still remain in the dark as to why everyone in this novel hates Sun, to the point where even his teammates bear the brunt of that negativity. Because, you know, when Sun says he’s the leader,

Rumpole was momentarily speechless.

Hold on. Let’s take a hot second to summarize what Sun has done in this conversation thus far, AKA everything that exists to form such a horrible opinion of him that Rumpole would be “speechless” at the thought of him leading. Sun has:

Agreed with Headmaster Theodore regarding a life philosophy.

Says he grew up in Vacuo.

Admits that he wants to settle down here, making Shade his permanent home.

Asked to address the Headmaster as “Theo.”

Apologies for his presumptiveness.

Correctly changes his address to “Headmaster Theodore.”

Explains that he was on a “special assignment” last semester and that’s why he wasn’t at Haven. Scarlet mutters that the assignment was given “by himself.”

So Sun is a native who’s heart has “grown fonder” for his kingdom and who agrees with Theodore’s outlook. He is willing to apologize and change his behavior as instructed. The only marks against him so far are 1. Being overly friendly with an authority figure and 2. The implication that he simply ran off without justification, though thus far it’s Sun’s word against Scarlet’s. That should hardly count until the accusation is proven one way or the other.

So Sun is implied to be an unfit leader because he was friendly? That outweighs positives like being from Vacuo and taking direction?

Everyone is really just out to paint Sun as The Worst Person Ever, huh? Here’s your trophy, bud.

After this stunning display ranging from indifference to what appears to be outright disgust, Theodore says that they can stay on through what’s essentially a trial period. “Until you wash out, or he changes his mind,” Rumpole explained. “Frankly, that happens a lot.” Again, Team CFVY didn’t receive such a threat. Theodore concludes the meeting by requiring a written account of the White Fang attack, something Sun is nervous about. “You do know how to write?” Theodore asks, just casually tossing in a final insult. Scarlet reassures him that they’ll help Sun with the “big words.”

Wow. The farther I get into this story the less surprised I am that the fandom has been hissing at it like an angry pack of cats. Or at least, a solid chunk of the fandom here on tumblr. I can’t recall if I mentioned this in an earlier Chapter, but at the start of this project I popped onto Goodreads and was somewhat shocked at Before the Dawn’s 4.16 rating, accompanied by numerous glowing reviews. Were we given different copies of the book? Then again, I often feel as if I’m watching a different show than the fandom talks up. I too would love to be watching a gripping, emotionally compelling, complex RWBY story of the sort that I’ve heard about. Ah well.

Back to the text at hand.

It’s the next day and everyone is attending Professor Rowena Sunnybrook’s Weapons Training Class. I briefly grapple with the image of Rowena Ravenclaw at Sunnybrook Farm. Then I consider how close “Rowena” is to “Rebecca.” Then I remember that in the stories Rebecca’s middle name was Rowena. Then I move on with my life.

(How badly am I dating myself if I bring up Shirley Temple?)

There’s a sandpit set up in the middle of that classroom which “had always seemed odd to Scarlet. If you wanted to fight in sand, why not just go outside? There was plenty of sand in this place.” Honest answer: ease of access and control over your environment. It’s the same reason why you’d take students to an indoor track rather than just telling them to run anywhere there’s space outside. There may be qualities to the sand that make it a better practice tool — less coarse, no rocks hidden underneath — and it’s presented in an accessible, otherwise safe classroom. No one is wasting time finding a spot outside. No sand storms will suddenly interrupt an exercise. Rowena and the students alike aren’t fighting against the wind, or the sun, the grimm, or anything else they might have to pay attention to. Given the tech of this world, there may even be cameras in the classroom that allows instructors to record and revisit their students’ practice. Unless you’re looking to prepare them for the unpredictability of the real world in a given lesson, this is just an all around easier choice. A pain to set up, perhaps, but easier once the pit is in place.

So Scarlet is, per the trend, in somewhat of a bad mood. He says he’s excited to see what class is like with his new teammates, but he doesn’t understand why you’d have a sand pit inside (in a world where competitions like the Vytal Festival exist…) and he likewise doesn’t get why anyone would fight on sand if they didn’t have to. But… you do have to? Scarlet just got done reminding everyone that they live in a desert now. He doesn’t get much of a say in whether he’s fighting on sand or not, so he’d better learn how to do it. I don’t think the grimm and occasional baddie is going to let Scarlet choose the setting before a fight begins.

Scarlet is also exhausted, which I can definitely understand. I’m tired just reading about the week they’ve been through. We get a tiny glimpse into the Chapter That Never Was where he thinks that “Spending hours in an underground Dust mine fighting a herd of Jackalopes wasn’t exactly a fun time.” Too bad we didn’t get to read about it. Though I do quite like the tiny insight into Scarlet we get here. He’s extra tired because he was “staying up so late to clean his clothes and shine his shoes.” Yeah, I could say something about implied-to-be gay guys and their obsession with clothes, though considering that Scarlet’s sexuality is nonexistent in this text or the main series, it feels disingenuous to make any claims about stereotyping. Besides, that may be a reach even if he was confirmed as queer. Rather, I like the line because it can be read in different ways, one of which is further confirmation that Scarlet seems to be a straight-laced, eager to please authority sort of guy. He doesn’t like having a spontaneous team leader. He hopes that Theodore will see his worth over Sun’s. Scarlet already comes across as the sort of student who would put additional time into shining his shoes while everyone else gets some much needed sleep. Appearances matter to him.

This entire time Sunnybrook has been lecturing, though seemingly not about anything important. Scarlet is surprised that they haven’t started an activity yet. The stalling is explained when Rumpole shows up, stomping into the classroom and grousing that Sunnybrook started without her. She rightfully points out, “You’re late, and this is my class.”

Ooh, Scarlet thought. Sunnybrook just went from chatty to catty.

…No? Beyond my ardent love of writers insisting that women are “catty” whenever they show an ounce of assertiveness or self-respect (/s), how is Sunnybrook being “catty” when she’s literally just stating two facts? Rumpole is late. This is her class. Both those things are true. There is an implied criticism there, but it’s hardly undeserved. If anyone is close to being “catty” right now it’s Rumpole, arriving late without an apology and criticizing Sunnybrook for doing her job in Rumpole’s absence.

Which begins the very strange read of watching Rumpole give an excellent lesson while the story characterizes her as the bad guy (we’ve been down this road before...).

Outside of that rude entrance, I don’t think Rumpole does much wrong here, but it becomes clear by the end of the chapter that she’s someone we’re meant to dislike.

She begins her lesson by pointing out that “Before you got here, some of you were trained to rely on your teams. But what do you do when your team is gone and you’re on your own?” Yes! Excellent point! Just like Scarlet needs to know how to fight on sand while living in a desert, every huntsmen needs to know how to defend themselves solo in case they’re separated from their team, their team is knocked out, or they’re killed. Wasn’t Sun alone at the start of this novel? Didn’t Ruby fall through the floor into a White Fang hideout by herself? Wasn’t Blake out in the woods alone when she encountered Adam? In each case they either sought out additional help or help thankfully arrived in time — you should strive to have backup — but in the case that there’s none to be found, how well can you defend yourself? It honestly shocks me that these talented, experienced fighters so often reject learning something that’s so obviously useful, whether we’re talking about Ruby telling Ozpin they already know how to fight, or Scarlet scoffing at fighting on sand in Vacuo.

Rumpole also says that they need to learn how to fight without their weapons.

“The room filled with whispers. Fight without weapons? In Weapons Training? Is she kidding?”

See, this is the kind of nonsense I’m talking about. Are you telling me that none of these fighters have ever lost their weapon in battle? It’s never broken (Blake)? That they can’t reach the basic conclusion of their fists being a weapon too? Too often RWBY introduces entirely unnecessary reactions that don’t fit with the characters’ intelligence, experience, and overall world view. They say and do ridiculous things in the context of their fictional lives. I could bring up a Volume 8 “Divide” example, but I’m trying to keep these recaps spoiler free. For those of you who have seen the premiere though, you likely know what Ruby moment I’m talking about.

So the whole class is upset for an incredibly stupid reason. Scarlet has gone from his usual grumpy to downright pissed. Things only go from bad to worse when Rumpole chooses Velvet to fight Nebula.

“Oh, come on!” Coco said, intervening for her former teammate.

What exactly is the problem here? According to Scarlet it’s that they’re on the same team. “This is so not cool,” he whispers to Coco. He believes they “shouldn’t be forced to fight each other,” but why? He admits freely that they’ve all fought against peers before. What do they think this is? It’s just another sparing session. Apparently the distinction is “with the intent of beating them, especially in front of an audience.” So when sparing you normally don’t intend to win? Or if you spar no one can be there to see you do it? Both of those defeat the purpose of sparing in the first place: to improve, partly by receiving feedback.

Arslan provides a bit of clarification with “They should not fight each other. We’re teammates, and we have to learn to work together. This just undermines that goal” but that is a staggeringly narrow view of what it means to “work together.” Frankly, a worrisome one too. Are team relationships truly so fragile that they can’t handle a little competition? You wouldn’t think so given the continuing message of teams as friends, family, and coworkers — those relationships are rock solid — yet Arslan seems to believe that a single exercise would undermine all that. There might have been some justification if she’d specifically brought up the problem of fighting new team members, prior to forming those bonds, with the added difficulty of working with people who might not think much of you yet… but she doesn’t. No one here seems to think that teammates should fight, period.

So then what do we make of Ruby vs. Oscar in Volume 5? That’s almost the exact same setup, with two teammates fighting one another, one of whom is new and hasn’t formed a solid bond, in front of an audience, with an instructor — Ozpin — evaluating their performance. Do we honestly believe that because Ruby got frustrated for a hot second that any care she had towards Oscar evaporated?

Is Team CRDL incapable of fighting beside Pyrrha in the Battle of Beacon because she absolutely kicked their ass in class? Does Weiss grow to hate Winter because she beat her during training? Of course not. There is something to be said for an institution that constantly pits teammates against each other in a manner that interferes with the ability to form those bonds… but this isn’t it. This is a single exercise for students who are currently shocked that they’d ever need to fight solo/without a weapon, so they clearly need the lesson, yet their reactions are extreme. Coco yelling, Scarlet muttering about how bad this is, both of them praising Arslan like she stood up against an actual attack on Velvet — “Good for you, Arslan,” Coco whispered. Now there’s a leader for you, Scarlet thought. — and Yatsuhashi is going so far as to stand in front of Velvet to protect her. They’re all acting like Rumpole told them to engage in a death match, not do the exact thing they’ve come to this school for: learn how to fight.

So yeah, that all is exceptionally weird imo and feeds into the general sense that Rumpole is the supposed to be the bad guy here, but it’s not done persuasively. She’s oh so evilly making them fight one another, evilly smiling about it, evilly telling Coco that that’s enough… though none of this is actually, you know, evil. The closest we get is a moment when Rumpole “haughtily” says that “In the heat of battle, a weak teammate can be worse than the most powerful enemy,” which frankly comes out of nowhere given that she’s responding to Arslan’s criticism of the test as the whole. If you say, ‘We shouldn’t fight other because we need to learn to work together’ and your teacher responds with ‘Weak teammates are more dangerous than your enemy,’ that’s very nearly a non sequitur. Yeah, the general subjects of teammates and fighting are the same, but otherwise these points seem to belong to different conversations. What Rumpole says in the context she says it is nearly nonsensical and serves only to make her look cruel. She tosses out a startling truth unprompted, leaving the reader going, “Wow! Rumpole is awful!” unless they’re inclined to consider whether any of that makes sense.

That moment with Coco did catch my attention though, simply because we’re told that Rumpole’s eyes flashed and then Coco gasped, cluing Scarlet into the fact that she’s not as “unshakable as she usually let on.” That’s another extreme reaction to a tame event, as well as the second time this chapter that we’ve heard about Rumpole’s flashing eyes, the first occurring in the flashback when she was displeased with Sun. So perhaps it’s something involving her Semblance? I’d look it up, but I kind of what to be surprised in the next 173 pages. Got to find things to look forward to in all this lol.

One the group realizes that they do actually have to fight one another (the horror) Velvet and Nebula give up their weapons. As expected, Nebula jokes about how she hasn’t lost anything, “What good’s a camera in a fight, anyway?” which produces applause from other Shade students. Right, because Velvet got into a top academy and survived the Fall of Beacon without a weapon. I’m not sure if this is just bullying for the sake of bullying, outside the bounds of logic, or if these students, living in their magic-infused, crazy tech world, legitimately can’t reach the conclusion that Velvet uses photos as a weapon, even if they can’t figure out how. Either way, it’s not endearing, but at least this time my reaction aligns with what the text is aiming for. Rumpole tells them to “Save it for the arena” with “a hard edge in her voice,” but of course no one comments on when she sticks up for Velvet. Asking her to complete a simple exercise results in fury, but telling her own students to leave the newcomer alone results in silence. Seems about right.

The fight finally begins and it’s a tad underwhelming. There’s nothing specifically wrong with it—nothing that stands out on first read through anyway—it just not a particularly compelling action sequence. Any interesting tidbits are seen in the dialogue instead. Nebula continually establishes herself as another Mean Girl character, taunting Velvet with how she’s “been wanting to do this for a while” and how “fun” it is to fight her. The spectators, specifically Scarlet and Coco, comment on how Velvet is able to use her semblance outside of the hard light weaponry. Here, she draws on moves from “Pyrrha Nikos, Yang Xiao Long, and even Sun.”

Pyrrha 😭😭😭😭

Why the “even” though? 😒

Coco summarizes her style by saying that “Velvet may fight like a lot of different people, but no one else fights like Velvet.” I quite like that. Velvet is a living embodiment of being more than just the sum of your parts.

As the fight continues Nebula’s taunts grow more vicious, saying that she is better than Velvet because “We left Beacon because we knew it was a lost cause.” Beyond that just being a horrific thing to say, I want to ward off any potential comparisons between our Volume 7 conflict and this statement. RWBY might be trying to draw a parallel between the mean student who would abandon her school and the villainous general who would abandon his city (depending on how my Myers knew about upcoming plotlines), but there’s a huge difference between fighting a grimm army and fighting Salem herself with a grimm army. Velvet and the others were absolutely correct to fight for Beacon because they had a shot at taking it back. A slim one, but a shot nonetheless. Volume 7 provided none of that in regards to Team RWBY’s stance.

This remark does its job though and soon after Velvet becomes stuck in the sand, distracted and upset. Rumpole goes full Mean Teacher then, telling them to keep going. In fact, she quickly becomes the only mean person in the room because the formerly feuding teams are all banding together in Velvet’s defense and even Nebula randomly demonstrates honor—

(sorry I had to)—in how she approaches Velvet now: “[she] reached a hand down to help Velvet up.” Rumpole is clearly meant to be the enemy here, uniting friends, bullies, and even Sunnybrook too. Thing is, it’s once again not that bad? I’m not going to pretend that she isn’t harsh. Too harsh for a normal school? Absolutely. Too harsh for a combat school where these students are learning how to defend themselves from monsters and murderers during a war? Ehhh. Rumpole says that Velvet “beat herself” because “You don’t stop fighting until you can’t fight anymore.” That’s true. Within the context of a school exercise where everyone knows they’re safe and can stop the battle at any moment, it feels finished when Velvet gets stuck, but an actual life or death fight? Do we really think Velvet would stop trying to defend herself, passively staring up at her attacker while they do whatever they please with her? Of course not. She’d either find a way out or she’d go down fighting. You’re telling me that students who frequently break apart stone or, in Ruby’s case, blast through steel doors specifically meant to keep people inside can’t punch downwards and free themselves from some sand? Are the pieces of either of their weapons anywhere within reach? Can Velvet trick her attacker, pretending to be down for the count and then lashing out when she gets close? At the very least, as we saw with Sun’s first encounter this novel, can she talk enough to buy herself time until others arrive to help. Obviously there’s no arriving in this structured exercise, but the point is to try. Rumpole is telling them not to stop trying — to treat this exercise seriously (which they haven’t done from the start) — and they’re throwing back that challenging Velvet to get creative is too mean? In the same way that the students shouldn’t be pit against each other 24/7, they shouldn’t be pushed to their limit 24/7 either… but for once class? One lesson? When they know an attack is on the way and have already watched people die?

See, this is why I can’t take this cast seriously as the leaders of this war. When we’ve got scenes like this the characterization — whether intentional or not — is that they’re not nearly as devoted to their and others’ safety as they should be. Such characterization is fine when one group isn’t conducting a secret investigation, the other hasn’t been given licenses early, and both haven’t been through a battle that cost them the lives of numerous friends. But when they have experienced all these things, you have to wonder what they’re doing complaining about a teacher who says, ‘Hey, don’t just roll over and accept defeat.’

Eventually Coco, Yatsuhashi, Fox, and Arslan step in front of Velvet to keep the fight from continuing. Yatsuhashi pulls her from the sand and when free “she pushed his hands away.” That’s the other thing: no one seems interested in what Velvet wants. They all speak for her in deciding that she can’t and shouldn’t fight anymore.

As a suggested change, I would have liked this so much more if we have the group uncomfortable with the fight continuing, Velvet insisting that she can keep going, and then she asks them for help. Rumpole never laid down a hard rule that this was a 1v1 fight. That’s the unspoken assumption, yeah, but she speaks far more about them not using their weapons. If Velvet had called for reinforcements, so to speak, and the group had dropped their weapons before entering the sandpit, it would have arguably just been an extension of what they learned in reinitiation: “The only rule is survival.” Allies are right here, why wouldn’t she use them? Friends of Nebula step forward to back her up, Rumpole puts a stop to things before it becomes an all out brawl, she compliments Velvet for bending the rules to her advantage, and reminds everyone that this is why it’s so important to learn to work with their new teams: they’re your lifeline so long as you have them. Honestly though, a RWBY story that doesn’t make everyone over 30 out to be a literal or personal villain? Unrealistic.

What Rumpole does instead is remind them that they have to be prepared for the worst and the unexpected to happen. They no longer have the excuse of “No one could have predicted that”: “We know a threat is out there. We know it’s coming to Vacuo. To not prepare for that eventuality would be irresponsible, dangerous, and naïve.” Exactly! Too bad no one else wants to think about that truth. Instead, Scarlet mentally criticizes her for the “cheap shot” and Coco waylays Sunnybrook to ask if she thinks Rumpole seems alright. Of course, Sunnybrook agrees that she’s being too hard on them. She’s “mean” now and “picking on” Velvet.

It astounds me that these characters are grieving over their murdered friends in one chapter and then going ‘You’re mean to challenge us in training :( ’ the next. Don’t any of them want to defend themselves the next time? Or avenge their lost peers? Whatever other faults RWBY has, I think they did right by Jaune and Ren by making the former (briefly) Cinder obsessed and the latter angry that they’re going to a party rather than training. Going too far in those directions obviously isn’t healthy, but neither is demonizing the instructor trying to keep everyone alive. It’s the same underlying problem as Ironwood’s antagonism in Volume 7: armies and threats of martial law are a problem when there isn’t a justified emergency for them. RWBY has, time and time again, given us that emergency in a variety of ways, so why do the characters act as if they’re living in our world where such measures are extreme?

It’s a question I’ll never get an answer to, I’m sure. That’s where we leave the cast though, with Scarlet thinking about how “As long as they were here, every day was going to be a bad day in Vacuo.” Fantastically emo ending for this long and frustrating chapter. I am massively behind on my NaNoWriMo challenge thanks to normal RWBY Recaps, but this? This was a substantial boost. If you somehow made it to the end of all this please accept my virtual cookies.

I’d share the actual gingersnaps I made if that were possible :(

Alright. I’ve kept you all here long enough. Until next time! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #mymetas #BTD Recaps #Before the Dawn

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splicejunction · 4 years ago

Note

Please tell me about shatterstar's Childhood

oh my god anon okay I’m assuming in context of what I’ve recently posted you want like... my version of events rather than what’s canon but just in case I hope you know that there’s basically zero canon material that actually describes his childhood/young adulthood beyond “I was a warrior born” or whatever the fuck. if you want to know about that idk go on the fucken... marvel wiki page or something

also--I hate that I have to put this out here and I doubt anyone would actually do this but just in case--I have spent like 1 million hours thinking about this because I have brain disorders and it is very close to my heart so please do not A) use this in fics, etc without letting me know/getting my permission in advance or B) reblog this post

anyways. this is a can of worms so I’m going to do a cheeky lil

first we have to get something out of the way: I hate the “shatterstar’s his own grandpa” paradox. I am sorry if this angers people but it makes me mad so I ignore it. the reason it bothers me is because it means alison blaire essentially married her grandson, which is A) weird and B) bad from a genetics perspective.

in my version of canon ‘star IS the biological child of longshot and dazzler but longshot wasn’t cloned using ‘star’s DNA because..... oh god... another whole separate post can be made about this but... in my head, on mojoworld the way genetic engineering works is not really the same as it is here. here genetic engineering generally means taking an existing genome and inserting or deleting genes. this is how they make, for example, animals that glow, or confer pesticide resistance to plants.

but on mojoworld I think the way they genetically engineer is more like... the way we mechanically engineer. like the entire organism is built from the ground up. there’s a master genetic blueprint which is essentially the “minimal genome” required for a functioning humanoid. this was created by study of Earth humans by arize and the other genetic engineers. they can then go in and customize by adding elements to the genome that code for the signals/building blocks that control things like height, strength, hair color, eye color, having hollow bones etc. so in my head longshot was sort of... designed with ‘star as the inspiration, but not directly cloned. that wouldn’t even make sense anyways because A) different hair color and B) LONGSHOT HAS 3 FINGERS ON EACH HAND and shatterstar has 4!! thats NOT HOW CLONES WOULD WORK!!!!

(side note, the concept of a minimal functional genome is a real thing in biology! some scientists have taken a bacterium that already has a small genome and reduced it to the minimum size required for viability. here is a wikipedia article on it and here is the original paper (DOI: 10.1126/science.286.5447.2165) which I can explain in more detail because I took a class on synthetic biology which this technically falls under and I had to read this paper very closely).

fuck I’ve written 4 paragraphs and not even talked about his childhood yet. I am so sorry. anyways. so the way I think they raise the gladiators on mojoworld is they create them in batches of 5 to 10 identical copies of a certain “model”, place each copy in a different “class” with a set of 2-3 mentors/teachers, and train them to fight until they are 13 or 14. until this time the only names they have are the names that identify the “model”--like for shatterstar that would be gaveedra-seven where the model identifier is “gaveedra” and he is (in the lore that I have come up with) the 7th of 8 total.

the reason they create multiples and put them in different classes is each mentor is going to have a slightly different style of teaching which is going to work better for some and worse for others, so it allows them to have more mass production while increasing the chances of creating a truly great champion. it’s classic nature versus nurture--the genetic engineers create your nature, but you don’t end up exactly the same as others of your model. maybe you get an edge, maybe you don’t.

another thing that happens is different mentors believe in different ways of raising the kids in their care. shatterstar specifically was raised in a class where there was absolutely zero emotional development at all and no attachments allowed beyond fighting alliances. that’s not the case in all classes, and it also had the effect of making him somewhat of an outsider even within the other gladiators as he got older.

at 13 or 14--and yes I realize this is very fucked up but dude its fucking mojoworld idk what you expected--they start participating in fights. the first ones aren’t to the death and they’re as teams and they’re not usually televised they’re more like high school sports games that are attended by scouts (here, they’re “sponsors”--I think that’s a canonical term but I honestly can’t remember) and if you get sponsored you leave your class and join a new “team” that’s really just a bunch of people who all have the same sponsorship. this is where things can get interesting because they’ve all been raised with slightly different fighting styles but more importantly, slightly different degrees of Personhood.

also at this point I should mention that by this time, there are usually only 2, maybe 3 of each model left. either they died or were recognized as not having talent so they were sent to eventually fulfill other roles in the network. in ‘star’s case there was just him and gaveedra-five. once you get to the stage where you’re sponsored and you’re actually fighting to the death one of the first people you’ll fight is any remaining members of your model group.

by the time you’re the only one left of your group, you’re also eligible to earn a stage name. this usually happens if you have a particularly epic fight with a lot of viewers, you win and the commentators will typically say something like “Let’s give this crowd a real name to cheer!” and they’ll have a few candidate names and they’ll kind of just pick one. AUGH I actually have this scene written out in story form but its too long so I think I’ll save it.... :)

after you get a name you also get a cool outfit and usually some kind of mark or tattoo that serves as a brand. this brings me to another important point--shatterstar inherited the X-gene from alison and therefore he IS a mutant. his mutation is the swords vibration thing and the glowing eye. the star mark is a tattoo and teleportation is benjamin russell’s mutation (how he fits into all this is... for another post). basically after he got his name the costuming department guys were like “hey your eye glows, you look like the Legendary Warrior of Old, Longshot, we’re gonna pattern your look after him” so they gave him the star tattoo and the outfit that’s literally inverse colors of longshot’s.

also this brings me to another aside: you’re probably wondering “if he’s the biological kid of longshot and alison how are there 8 gaveedras?” when the genetic engineers got a hold on him as a baby they were like Sick! free baby! free genetic material! thats our job done for us! so they cloned him (in the traditional sense) and made 7 copies. this was also to kind of conceal his identity as technically being from outside mojoworld, which would make him stick out and thus be a target. they DID edit out the x-gene in the other gaveedra models though. this wasn’t a problem for ‘star because his mutation didn’t manifest until he was already sponsored.

I think that’s .... pretty much it for macroscopic lore on what it was like to be a kid gladiator on mojoworld. now let me give you some Tidbits of his life specifically:

like I said he was raised in a particularly cold and ruthless class. the mentors that raised him are like well-known by everyone to produce some of the best warriors but also there’s discourse on mojoworld because some people say perfectly emotionless killing machines aren’t as fun to watch. when he was sponsored there were 4-5 others in the same sponsorship and they were like Theres Something Wrong With You LOL

they speak earth languages on mojoworld because they’re imitating the broadcasts they (the spineless ones) used to hear from earth. however, most of the lower-class as well as almost all arena fighters and other television personalities speak cadre or other languages which are native to the planet. the stage names are all vaguely in english, but the gladiators don’t really understand them at first.

shatterstar got his name before he got the glowing eye, and when he learned what stars are, and saw his eye as a little star, he was like wow :) this is Me :) which is why that name is so important to him. it’s also one of the first things that wholly belonged to him.

(you can’t see stars on mojoworld because of light pollution and also because it’s a pocket dimension and there just aren’t that many stars to see)

I hate to bring up the s**ley miniseries but I do think it would be interesting to have him have a sort of ... mentor/first friend, similar to the concept of gringrave but they were NOT in a relationship. it was more like... another kid who was a year or so older than him got a soft spot for him and helped him not be so clueless. she didn’t make as much progress as xforce did, obviously. but they were.... something like friends.

unfortunately she was used by spiral to get shatterstar to murder the first rebel guy who tried to get him out of there. then she got switched sponsors (this can happen) and he had to kill her, and he was like well I will simply never develop any kind of attachment to anyone ever again.

he almost didn’t make it out of the first training session with his sponsorship group (this is semi-canon--there’s a reference when he’s teaching terry to swordfight to almost not surviving the first time he was in a gladiator class or whatever it was).

the closest he ever came to losing was the day he got the name. that’s why the crowds loved it so much.

the double-bladed sword was a gimmick weapon but when he got his mutation they realized it works way better if there’s resonance between two parallel blades so they redesigned it as an actual weapon.

(forgot this but I feel like I should include it) at 17 he escaped the arenas and joined the cadre alliance. two years later he came to earth and joined xforce.

I think that’s going to have to be it for now because it’s literally almost midnight and I have work tomorrow and I did NOT intend to stay up this late but I did. thank you for this opportunity anon :) feel free to ask me any other questions and also I realize a lot of this probably makes no fucking sense and that’s because I am not a writer or anything I’m just a biochemist with brain problems that cause me to obsess over stupid shit

#answered #shatterstar #GHKDJFDKHGRJ I KNOW THERES SOMETHING WRONG W/ ME THAT THIS FEELS LIKE EXPOSING MY SOUL....#Anonymous #long post #NSCU #<-thats my new tag since other people have asked about this #it stands for nadine shatterstar cinematic universe

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novantinuum · 5 years ago

Text

Shattering Atlas (a corrupted!Steven one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depression and body horror)

Words: 4.2K~

Summary: A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much.

Folks, here it is! I’m finally finished. AO3 link to be posted in the reblogs.

Disclaimer: This is absolutely far darker and more drastic than I believe canon would EVER tread if this theory had the faintest chance of being anywhere close to the truth, but sometimes you just feel like being super angsty for angst's sake, y'feel? It was an interesting writing experiment nonetheless. Not gonna lie, this is kinda a vent piece. Please do heed those tags. This delves into some difficult territory both mentally and otherwise, as it's written entirely from Steven's POV.

_____

Steven knows he’s messed-up.

It’s not something he tries to advertise to all the sweet, innocent people who somehow after all this time still choose to stand by his side, but he can’t lie to himself. Spending a significant chunk of your childhood actively doubting your own personhood shatters you in ways no amount of unconditional love can ever hope to mend. And sure, he’s not his mom. He knows that. Been there, had the mental breakdown, seen it, done it. The proof’s in his gem half. He knows. But as much as everyone in his life coddles him, gently tries to reassure him while he tirelessly works day and night to realign the foundation of an entire ancient civilization...

“You’re almost an adult now, isn’t that exciting?”

“Don’t worry about the future, the futures I see for you are as limitless as they are bright.”

“Take a break if you need to, ‘kay? You totally deserve one, little man.”

“Y’know, Schtu-ball, the wonderful thing about adulthood is that you can choose to fly wherever the wind takes you!”

...it’s clear none of that matters anyways. Because it’s not true, not for him. Because beyond his identity as a Crystal Gem, beyond that bottomless desire for belonging he’s been chasing all his life, ever since the fateful moment early in his childhood in which he finally realized— small, pudgy hands clutching at the oversized hand-me-down shirt right over the pink hand-me-down gem in his belly— that he isn’t like anyone else and never will be, the truth is that he genuinely doesn’t know what he wants. Who he is.

Everyone else does.

Connie has plans. Hopes, dreams. A future. She’s already thinking about college, and aims on double majoring in political science and environmental science. (A combination only she’s daring enough to pursue, but if anyone’s got the drive to succeed in that it’s her.) Dad’s still manager for Sadie Killer and the Suspects, and they’re going strong. Amethyst has been playing tour guide to all her fellow Prime sisters lately, galavanting with them all around planet Earth. Garnet is currently on the search for terrified cross-fusion Gems still in hiding across the galaxy. Pearl, Bismuth, and a number of the boardies have spearheaded a campaign to help slowly teach and integrate the humans of the Zoo into modern day society. Lapis and Peridot recently built another barn in the outskirts of Little Homeworld, and are enjoying each other’s company.

But him? When all is said and done, as the restructured Gem society stabilizes and soon no one will need him for anything anymore, when Gems and humans alike stop knocking on his metaphoric door with handfuls of their problems for him to drop everything and solve, he has nothing left. He’s no one. No future, no clue. He’s been drained empty.

He’s just drifting through life with the parking break on, continuously waiting— his nerves jittering at every quiet moment— for the next big crisis to crash into his universe and drop feed him even the tinniest shard of purpose.

After all, what is one to do when they’ve spent their entire life training to save the world, but the world has already been saved?

_____

He can’t recall exactly when his current predicament began anymore.

Time’s been hard to keep track of as of late— the days and weeks blending together in an incomprehensible fashion— and yet simultaneously, he might as well have lived a lifetime in the span of the blink of an eye. That being said, he’s pretty sure his most recent gem troubles didn’t truly kick into gear until after the incident with the, erm... cactus monstrosities.

He genuinely didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he didn’t. He only wanted to help... to heal. To try and repair but a shred of the damage Homeworld wrought on this innocent world. It worked when Earth was poisoned, so it should work in the Kindergartens too, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

His stomach churns as he catches a glimpse of a silly photo of Peridot and himself hanging on the wall by the stairs. A static monument to his shame. Lapis is (still, days later— or is it weeks?) taking care of her gemstone at this very moment, sure, but remembering what happened before that... holding Peridot’s cracked gem in his quivering hands, biting back cries of hopelessness as he ran to the nearest warp pad, escaping from the malformed, hurting creatures born of his own magic... it‘s the kind of horror that he’s sure will linger in his dreams for a long time yet.

It’s like he’s broken. Like his powers just aren’t coming as naturally to him anymore. It’s not quite like that time with the rejuvenator. There’s no sickly glow flickering in and out of existence. No external force acting upon it. No, it’s deeper than that. It’s not a gem sourced problem, it’s him. He’s just... wrong. He’ll try to use his healing ability and it’ll backfire, he’ll summon his bubbles and shields but they’re noticeably less durable, he’ll birth life from his very soul and it’ll grow bitter and corrupt, every bit a mirror of his present mental state. He’ll jump up high in the sky to burn out years of repressed stress in semi-peace and before he can actually do so gravity will grab ahold of him like he’s a petulant, disobedient child and drag him back to the shore. It makes him want to scream, to grind his fingers into the sand so hard his knuckles go white as he sobs out every last one of his stupid, meaningless frustrations, but instead his house is always swarming with people, and his bedroom has no real door, (and he’s too embarrassed to ask for one), and in sum he can never find enough time alone to freely be his genuine messed-up self. It’s fine, though. He doubts he’s capable of crying at this point anyways.

“Dude, you okay?” Amethyst asks with brows furrowed in concern, snapping him back to reality.

His GameStation controller rests precariously in his loose grasp, entirely forgotten in the previous moment. The game they’re playing is paused. He must have blanked out again, and completely ruined their co-op fight. He lets out a shaky breath as he tightens his fingers around the plastic grips, digging into them as if they’re his sole handle on reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says swiftly, plastering a smile on his face with the ease of someone who’s been growing adept at this endless charade for months and months. “Didn’t sleep too well last night. Muscle cramps from training, y’know?”

He watches her closely, catalogues every minute shift in her features. Her eyes narrow so slightly that anyone else might’ve missed it. But he doesn’t. He’s observant. He’s gotta be. It’s the only way he’s kept going for this long, the only way he can ensure no one else knows. They don’t need any more worry. Regardless, Amethyst’s lack of subtlety betrays her, because it’s clear she’s searching his expression and body language right back. His chest pounds. Hastily, he holds up the controller, feeling his face go pale under her scrutiny.

Geeze, how pathetic.

No matter how hard he tries to mask it, he‘s already falling apart.

“So... we gonna play another round, or?” Right as he says this, his stomach chooses to let out an inopportune gurgle. He bites at the insides of his cheeks, inwardly cursing at the bad timing.

It’s thankfully enough to divert Amethyst’s attention from... other matters, though.

“Yo. Ste-man. Your stomach’s straight up monologuing. Have you even eaten today?”

He dimly considers this as he tries not to focus on how empty and faint his body currently feels, mind turning to fuzz. “Uhh...”

She frowns, and promptly pulls herself to her feet. “Yeah, so I’m gonna take that as a no. I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get us some cheese!” she declares bombastically, putting on a mock announcer voice.

He watches her leave his room, prancing downstairs like she doesn’t have a care in the world. A faint huff of sheer relief passes through his nostrils. Absentmindedly, his thumbs jiggle the controller’s joystick, unable to strike the earlier image of Amethyst— concern engulfing her usually carefree self— from his mind. He really should be more careful about what he says. How he acts.

He honestly couldn’t live with himself if he slipped up and became yet another emotionally taxing problem for them to deal with. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl... all his family, his friends. They deserve peace. They deserve to be satisfied, they deserve their happily ever after. They certainly don’t deserve him, self-destructing all over the bright and shining future they’d won.

Or nearly shattering them.

Putting them in needless danger, danger that’s all his fault, because he’s broken.

His throat grows tight, airway constricted, images of black beady eyes, razor sharp fangs, and malformed limbs invading his thoughts, clawing away at insecurities long scabbed over until they ooze a bitter red. Peridot’s shrill yelp as she’s overtaken in an instant. That dreadful, immediately recognizable sound, a cracking Gem, seared onto his heart for the rest of time.

He... he can’t deny it anymore. His magic’s gone toxic. He’s toxic, bringing suffering and decay where once he brought healing. All his Gem powers are fading, maybe forever. And with them fading, he’ll soon be of no use to anyone, and when they realize why they faded they won’t want him around anyways, and y’know, it’s probably for the better they’ll have a concrete reason to finally push him away. He’s not stupid. He’s always known what an emotionally taxing strain he’s been on everyone, ever since the day Mom died for him to be born.

Steven grips the controller so hard that his fingers grow numb, mind stewing in the dark fantasies of what he’d like to do with himself when he’s left behind for good.

And then... his heart leaps in his throat as he dimly hears Amethyst begin to whisper to the others (they’re back? They’re back?? When did they return, why didn’t you notice them, how could you just miss—) downstairs.

“Y’guys,” he hears her say frantically, under her breath, “I think we really gotta talk with Steven. Something’s seriously wrong, and he won’t tell me what.”

“What, you mean to say he’s in danger? Garnet, do you see anything?”

“Hmm. I don’t foresee any external threats to Steven’s safety in the near future, but...”

“Amethyst, he’s clearly still upset about Peridot. And once she reforms in a few days, when she’s ready, he’ll be fine! Trust me.“

“No, trust me, I genuinely think this is more than just Peridot! It’s getting me super worried. He hasn’t been eating like he should, y’guys. I don’t think he’s showered in days. Sometimes it’s like he’s... I dunno, like, he isn’t even fully present. And y’know, thinking about it now? It’s been like this for a while. Since before all the cactus stuff.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not sure how we could—“

“We need to call Greg over,” Garnet interrupts Pearl, a new, thinly veiled panic rising in her voice. “Right now.”

His eyes stretch open wide.

Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no... Not here, not now, not— please, not now!

His breath hastens, his body outright shaking now. He curls tight into himself, the game controller dropping from his slackened fingers onto the floor as he clutches his knees to his chest. Sweat beads in droplets on his forehead. He outright yanks at his hair.

Amethyst, she can’t just waltz downstairs and!—

I don’t want to—

Peridot, getting cracked, I- it’s all my fault and she didn’t—

I- all of this- I’m so useless, careless, l- I’m losing my mind, what’s even wrong- why are you panicking!- I don’t—

T-they can’t know, they can’t know, they CAN’T—

He can’t fully bite back his cries as his gem flares burning hot, a rush of pure, unadulterated agony spiking through his hard light veins in an indescribably eternal split-second, the very experience of hypocrisy. Every single muscle in his body seizes. His ears ring, filled with a cacophonous clamor of sound that slashes through his mind with the deadly force of a long blade. Crippling. Debilitating. All-consuming. Hell. This is hell. Because then his head is pounding, and his limbs are all weak and shaky, and for a moment he’s bathed in a faint wash of pink, the glow enveloping him like his own corona of sickness as he succumbs to the pain he’s sequestered inside, bitterly festering for all these years.

Hell eventually recedes, both its note and its physical touch, but the dark clouds looming over his mind do not. Slowly, he loosens his grip on his curls, trying desperately to bring balance to his breathing. His ears are still ringing. His head is still cotton. Questions abound. For instance: what on Earth was that?? Stars, is something else wrong with his gem now, too? Thoroughly disorientated, he yanks up the hem of his shirt.

“Steven?!” Pearl calls frantically from downstairs, right as his trembling fingers gently trace the exposed facets of his gem. “Are you okay up there?”

He squints, features compressing in his sheer confusion. Visually, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. No imperfections, no flickering light, nothing. So then what’s—

“Hey, Steven? Yo?? You, uh- maybe wanna come eat downstairs, or?”

A shudder runs clear through his form, starting from his gem and coursing outwards to the furthest extremities. He grits his teeth as he rides through the stabbing discomfort, clutching at his stomach. It’s like he’s about to vomit. Sure, so maybe he was really hungry before, and maybe that has a little to do with what he’s experiencing now, but... this... still doesn’t feel right. Spots swim in his vision as he glances down again.

And that’s when he sees it, slowly creeping across the skin of his bare forearm as clear as day.

It’s a patch of dull, pinkish hide. Not human skin, hide. He runs his index finger along its perimeter, all of reality screeching to a halt as his brain performs somersaults in a desperate last-ditch attempt to contextualize the information his eyes are sending him right now.

“What?” he whispers in disbelief, (even though he has a few terrifying theories), frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

“I’m checking on him,” Garnet says, just loud enough that he knows for certain she intends him to hear. Solid footsteps creep across the floorboards, advancing towards the foot of the stairs.

It’s frankly impressive how fast a single stimulus can turn panic to outright paranoia.

He almost trips over himself diving to retrieve his jacket off the floor, forcing his arms through the sleeves faster than any of the Gems could ever summon their weapons. Hide it. Hide it away. They can’t see you, they can’t know you’re corru- NO! Stop.

Bathroom. He needs to get to the bathroom.

His bare feet solidly connect with the floor, toes curling inwards as he shudders again. A pulsing ache settles into the bones of his skull. Then a prickle at his neck. Reflexively, he slaps his hand against the affected locale. There’s another spot steadily growing there.

Alone, NOW.

The whole world’s spinning as he turns on his heels and flies across the length of his bedroom— sprinting past the TV, shoving past Garnet, who’s already halfway up the open stairwell, and leaping clear over the couch from midway down the last set of steps. (Everyone’s shouting in blind panic as he enters their sight. Fear. Needless, unwanted worry. Calling his name, calling for peace, but his ears are still ringing and their voices are overlapping and he can’t distinguish any of it.) When he reaches the bathroom his hand grips the knob so hard that the metal almost crumples under his force, and he swings himself through the doorway, slams it shut, and turns the lock with pink-splotched fingers faster than any one of the Gems can move to stop him.

For a split moment, things are okay. He’s alone. Moreover, he’s safe.

(But are you really?)

His head is pounding again, the pulsing at his temples soon coalescing into a constant inescapable misery. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he lets his forehead lull against the door. Flexes his knuckles, imagines the splotches disappearing from sight as easily as eye bags under makeup. He tries to calm his breathing in the meditative way Garnet once showed him. In for four counts... and out. In... and out. Come on, just ride it out, Universe. You’re a Gem- a diamond, for cripe’s sake! Control it. Conceal. Move on.

“Steven?!” Amethyst calls from outside. “Please talk to us, what’s goin’ on?”

"Whatever it is, you don't have to be alone!" Pearl adds. He doesn't even have to see her face to know that she's crying.

A renewed burst of panic spikes through his veins at this realization.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m fine!” he bites back on impulse.

“No, you’re NOT!” Amethyst hollers, and then... after a thoughtful pause, her tone softening: “I- I know you’re not.”

He stares down at his hands, brows threading together, watching as the patch of hide continues to inch across his skin. The genuine concern interlaced in every syllable of her speech is enough to make his gut churn with guilt.

“Steven, I... stars, I know you probably overheard me talking to everyone jus’ a second ago, and I know I probably betrayed every scrap of trust we ever had ‘coz of that, and I wanna say I’m sorry, but I can’t just stand aside and watch you treat yourself like garbage. Please, the door’s jammed. Let us in. We just wanna help!”

His lip quivers, despite himself. “I don’t need any help!” he insists, stubbornly pushing past the crack in his voice. “I’m just—“

He’s interrupted by a rush of crippling agony radiating upwards from his gem once more, the ache at either side of his head intensifying into three points. Hands rush to the site on automatic. Fingers grasping, searching. Discovering.

There’s something growing at his temples, he realizes with a rush of horror. Something hard, faceted. Disturbingly cold to the touch.

There’s no way to bite back his screams as the growths fully protrude, none at all, even with his mouth clamped shut, and even though he can’t see them he can sense their weight as they wind upwards and back, up and out of his curls, and he’s shaking, oh stars is he shaking, chest heaving up and down so hard he’s not sure he’ll ever be free of these awful tremors ever again, and— A hoarse sob forces its way to the surface as a third growth crowns his forehead. Trembling fingers scrape down the length of the door as he collapses to his knees, nails sharpening into gnarled talons as they sink further and further into the wood, carving through it like butter. He clenches his jaw back together so hard that with any greater pressure he might shatter his own teeth.

Still quite woozy under the threat of hyperventilation, he slowly turns his head. Extricates those dreadful claws from the door. Dares himself to look. Forcing himself back up to his feet, he gazes deep into the depths of the mirror. And as the creature trapped on the other side stares back through sickeningly pink irises— blotches of color steadily creeping up their jawline and across their cheek, inching to meet the base of those glistening crystalline horns— all known reality shatters into smithereens.

Not me, not me, not me, is the mantra he chants to himself like a prayer, stubbornly clinging to any vestige of normalcy as if this is all but a vivid nightmare he can stir awake from.

(As if deep down, a tiny, beaten-down part of himself still wants to believe he deserves a future too.)

But the darkness reflected in that mirror is following his every jerky, erratic movement as all the despair and guilt and self-hatred festering within continues to consume him like a matchstick to fire.

Not real. It’s not real! I don’t need help. I don’t need the Gems, they don’t need to know, I’m fine, I’m FINE, this isn’t corru - NO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! YOU CAN’T—

They’re yelling outside. Arguing, probably. (And true to form, Pearl‘s cries are the shrillest.) But he can’t be certain of anything anymore while smothered under the fog’s thickening surface, with the rest of the world relegated to mere static and stimuli. Not a word, not a clue. No way to know if it’s an argument about him or with him.

And in his mind their distress stands as yet another sign. Just another slice of proof that they truly are at their happiest without him, that his continued existence only serves as a complication. He can’t deny it anymore. He can’t lie, can’t tiptoe around the inevitable truth; like this, he’s nothing but a liability. A ticking time bomb, set to shatter everything and everyone in his path. Shaking like a leaf, he unfurls his fists, watching as the dull pink hide overtakes the last clear patches of flesh upon his misshapen, monstrous fingers.

They’re better off without you.

The passing seconds cease to exist as he convulses again, this time centralized at the base of the spinal column. He doubles over, leans into the pain. Rides it through vertebrae by vertebrae, raking his claws deep into the wood floor as a fifth limb emerges from where the spine left off, steadily lengthening— fortifying itself with jagged crystalline spikes as it grows ever longer. Its weight is entirely foreign, yet it shifts upon his slightest command. Panic overruling all logic once more, he thrashes about, the tail swinging across the bathroom counter like a whip. His toothbrush, comb, and other various toiletries he hasn't made use of in days clatter to the floor, abandoned.

R u n.

The thought rampages through his shattered soul like an avalanche. Yanks him by the horns. Consumes his mind and body like a trance. He has to escape from here, from the house, the Gems, has to run quick, before it’s too late and you can’t do anything more but wordlessly scream.

He doesn’t stop to question this impulse. Doesn’t stop to peer at that poor tortured creature in the mirror again. For a moment his claws struggle to grasp the crumpled door knob, fumbling in failure’s wake.

When he finally forces the door open, the whole world holds its breath.

Pearl’s eyes blow wide upon the no-doubt horrifying sight. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Steven?!”

Even Amethyst reacts in an adverse manner, stepping back towards the support of the wall. “Holy...” she breathes, face paling.

And just knowing he’s out here now, every gnarled, nightmarish feature exposed in front of his family like a raw nerve, makes his blotchy, spot-covered skin crawl.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME, I’m FINE!” he hollers as he sprints to the warp pad, barbed tail whipping wildly behind him. Pearl yelps in alarm as she only barely dodges its mace-like swing. Unable to hold back his sobs anymore, he collapses to his knees on the hard crystal. Coils his tail around himself by sheer instinct. Hides his face away behind arms. Hot tears spill from his eyes, vision blurring and sharpening in rhythm to the unbearable ache pounding in his head. “I’m fine,” he whispers pathetically, voice catching.

He can practically feel the vibrations through the floor as someone approaches. It’s Garnet. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it can only be her. His breath hastens against his better wishes. Can’t stop, won’t stop, can’t stop... The vision of the temple door begins to pirouette in dizzy circles around him as he arches his back, and with a sharp gasp feels something tear its way through his shirt and jacket right above his spine, all jagged and spiked and— NO! He grinds his jaw together, shrinking further into himself. Not real. It’s not real, not real, not—

“Steven,” she says in a measured tone as he heaves for air. (No, with hesitation. Fear. She’s hesitating because she’s afraid of you, she’s afraid because you’re a monster NO.) “I know you’re hurting, but I need you to take a deep breath with me, and try to calm down. Please, let us help you...”

A heart wrenchingly familiar hand reaches out to him, adorned by a ruby gem and a golden wedding band. His fingers clamp around thick, greasy curls, brushing against the horns protruding from his temples. A keening cry slips out from his mouth against his better wishes. They want to help. They only want to help...

He peeks at her through the crook of his arm, his most likely reddened, blotchy eyes meeting hers. She’s taken off her visor. She’s crying too.

For a glimmer of a second, he considers reaching out. Taking her offered hand with his own clawed one. But then...

Haven’t you been a burden enough already?

His face screws up, and his hands clench into fists.

“NO,” he shouts, slamming them down upon the warp pad. It activates, (blessedly still accessible at this early stage of corruption NO don’t think about it!!), glowing a bright cyan as he envisions where he wants to go: no particular destination in his mind but away, away, away.

After all, he already knows he’s a monster.

So... he might as well become one too.

_____

Notes:

Some days you just gotta have an entire mental breakdown and go full wyrm, y'hear?

HCs I tapped into for this fic:

After being healed, formerly cracked Gems take longer to reform than Gems who were only poofed. Peridot will be okay eventually, she just hasn’t reformed quite yet.

Steven is still able to warp because he hasn’t quite passed the threshold of corruption that prevents a Gem from accessing the warp stream. I imagine it's very much a matter of mental connection, and having the right presence of mind to tap into it. Probably a few minutes after this, if Steven were to continue going downhill and his mind fully fell into the fog of corruption, he’d no longer be able to warp. He got super lucky here.

This potential future blindsided Garnet because previously- like how Steven’s newfound maturity threw her off as discussed in Pool Hopping- she hadn’t factored in the idea of Steven being in such a low mental state. Amethyst was the first to really see past his attempts to mask it because she personally had dealt with depression like this before and knew what it looked like.

Maybe one day after SUF airs I'll write more on this topic, but as for now this will remain a one-shot. I 100% imagine Steven would ultimately be okay in this timeline, though. They'd be able to help him, stop the corruption. Steven goes to heckin' therapy. He'll live on, he'll begin to recover and cope. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Thank you for reading!

#su #su future #steven universe #corrupted steven theory #su fanfic #garnet #amethyst #pearl #su fanfiction #corrupted steven #corrupt!steven #body horror #my writing stuff #the mighty 500

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