#they pop outta the ground specifically to run at us and try to kill us presumably

[front-facing-pokemon]

[atsadi-shenanigans]

What Shall We Become 33 - Maggie Grace

Your shoulder’s dislocated. Gotta be, the way it grinds. The drow hit hard. Didn’t matter you was already on the ground. They snatched you up and threw you back down and wrenched things until something popped and they bound you up like a suckling pig but thrice as beaten. Pain shrieks through your shoulder, across your chest and up your neck every time you move. Every time you breathe.

They strip everything from you but the clothes on your back.

Even your motherfucking soul jar.

You almost protest that. But your teeth stay ground together as they give it a cursory look, pass it around, and turn it over to the bitch queen in charge of this shitshow. She was the one that mind-whammied you.

She hums and says something. Gives it to a slightly smaller woman (all of them shorter than you but them fuckers is toned).

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You can’t feel your hands after a couple a minutes. Complaining would make things worse (they can always get worse, which is why you don’t never give nobody nothing if you can help it).

Worst thing that happens if they open it is you die and become a ringwraith. You suppose you can haunt their asses until the end of time.

But the smaller woman slides around a pack she’s carrying and tucks it in there. They stash some of your potions, and throw your clothes (and the panties Astarion made for you) off to the side.

They do pause when they get to—

You try to bury your face against the ground when they pull out that dildo. A few of them snicker. You glance up in time to find Bitch Queen giving it an appraising look, and then nodding to Packmule, who slips it in.

You hope she uses it without boiling it and gets fucking Faerun herpes.

Then they free up your feet enough you can stumble after them, a rope around your neck. This is going to be bad.

They laugh when you fall. Slap the back of your head when you stumble or don’t immediately get up (still gagging). Your knees burn, and blood sticks the knees of your trousers to your skin after a while.

Everything fades into a miserable haze. You let it.

But the world comes back when they shove you down and your shoulder wrenches and you can’t help the scream. They don’t hit you, this time. Too busy setting down bags in a ring around y’all, laying out bedrolls and tucking into dried rations. No fire.

Then a fucking brick shithouse of a drow guy comes outta a nearby cave, followed by a skinny dude leading a giant fucking lizard. With a mcfucking saddle on it.

You fumble for your connection to the others when those two look at you. Your body is stuck here, but your mind…you could maybe get that away enough.

But the instinct to hide runs too deep. Got made part of you like a tree growing over a road sign, until its so buried in the trunk it can’t be removed without killing that tree.

You fall on old, old instincts. The first ones, that you unpacked and set out with your therapists so you could wrap them up and store them safely away again. The drow take that box in your mind, give it a shake, and dump it all over the floor. And all them times you felt the first twinge of pride doing something like saying “no” or going to the bank. It all vanishes.

You lie meek and mild and quiet in the dirt. If you stay still enough, be good enough, the bad things might not notice you. Might not hurt you. And you’d rather chew off your own tongue before you let any of the others ever see you like this.

But the bad things do notice you. Because this ain’t the farmstead. There ain’t no other sea of faces you to try to duck behind. These came after you, specifically. Once they get all cozied up, they come over.

Bitch Queen leads them. Strides over to loom with two women flanking her. She’s changed outta her armor and into some skimpy leather vest. Her hair is bone-white and pulled into a tight bun on top of her head. She says something, but fuck if you can even begin to parse it out (god, your wrists throb, fuck, people get gangrene from that don’t they).

When you stare at her, her eyelids lower. Then the two other women come around to grab your bound arms. The shock of pain slaps the sense outta you. You try to jerk away. Which earns you a kick to the ribs that leaves you dry heaving. They don’t even let you curl over yourself. Just wrench your head back in a fistful of your hair.

You gaze up at Bitch Queen and purple fire engulfs her hand. It reminds you of the dagger Astarion gave you (gone, now). Every bone tries to flinch away, but they got you tight, and Bitch Queen touches her fingers to your forehead.

It’s worse than the dead drow. Not in terms of pain, but in how completely enveloping it is. That Kentucky fried fuckface was a spear stabbing into your mind. This one is a hundred surgical scalpels. Your senses fall off. Go slack and numb. Thoughts race: Grandpa’s ani, choking in the river, Pizzaface flailing around on the ground. Rebecca Whittle presses your face into the dirt as Teresa May and Abigail Jenkins yank on your hair and scissors snip. Back to the river and cold water surging up your nose, past your lips to rush over your teeth you’re gonna drown, good god she’s gonna fucking see—

All your memories, all at once. Shame and horror, delight and awe, the warm comfort of a mint mocha as you stare out through a rain speckled windshield, cold watermelon on a scorching bright day, your bare toes speared by the sharp, dead grass browned around you. All of them and all of you as she sinks her spectral fingers right through your brain.

But it ain’t just gray pudding in there. Nestled within them brainmeats is something else. Soft and gelatinous, save for a tiny, round mouth ringed in teeth. That worm senses the disturbance and it writhes in agitation. Bitch Queen brushes it, pauses, reaches back to grab it.

Mistake.

The brainworm realizes somebody else is in here and it’s a territorial sonuvabitch. A pissed off chihuahua. All but screeches as it blasts out with a psychic wave that shreds the spectral fingers and somebody shouts—

You slump. Your arms ache, the dislocated one grinds horrifically and the air hitches in your lungs. You pant over your knees, take a long moment for your brain to reboot enough to take in data from your eyes and ears.

Did that little fucknugget of a space worm just EMP y’all’s brains?

Drow-speak weaves overhead, fast and tight, the edges of the words clipped. A hand fists in your hair again and jerks you back.

Bitch Queen’s face reminds you of the side of a glacier after it’s calved off a rotten chunk, all shiny and cold and razor fucking sharp. She switches languages, goes immediately to Common. But you can only blink at her even as you catch some familiar syllables.

Then she pulls a knife.

Astarion had summoned that dead drow back to his body after stabbing him, his eyes glowing green, hand misted in eerie light. That kind of magic fucking exists here.

“Talk!” you say in Common. “Talk water! I drink!”

You try to look over to where Packmule set down Bitch Queen’s bag. Hope to fuck she can follow your mashed up grammar.

You can just make out her eyes narrow in the dim glow of the mushrooms around y’all. Then she snaps orders. Dirt crunches and Skinny scuttles over to that pack. Carefully reaches inside and withdraws the potions they took from you.

Bitch Queen says something as Skinny holds them up. You jerk your chin as best you can (scalp bursting into flames of pain). Skinny comes over and holds out the dirt potion.

“Yes,” you say.

He uncorks it. The women holding you do not let go. Which means—

He upends it into your mouth. You try to swallow, but it’s too much and you cough, sputter, hork some of it out your nose. But he don’t stop and they don’t let go and you can only gasp and choke until your mouth is clear again.

You want to go home. You want your bed and your new, nice sheets. Your couch against the wall of the living room with sunlight spilling golden across the fake wood floors. Jesus, you’d settle for your lost tent back in that druid grove, surrounded by trees and half of your group arguing and Astarion sitting nearby, watching you.

You want Uncle Randy. You want Grandpa.

But you don’t get none of that. Just pain and burning and a bunch of fuckers staring down at you.

Then Bitch Queen says, “Speak, slave.”

“I will,” you say. “I’ll tell you whatever you want.”

Cause you got no skin in this game. Don’t care about crystal shenanifucks. Don’t got no shits about whatever adamantium thing they’re after.

“Yes, you will,” Bitch Queen says. And then her eyes and her hands glow purple.

She don’t move, but something of her wraps around your head. Slithers through your hair without actually touching it. It ain’t actually physical. But it does sink into your skull.

It’s like a thousand paper cuts dipped in lemon juice. But in your brain. In your mind.

You choke. Thrash. Pull yourself out of the strong hands on you and the agony in your shoulder squeezes your stomach like a tub of toothpaste.

Don’t matter. Your body is a different thing. A twitching, frothing sack of meat.

It happens over and over again. Slow caresses that at first feel almost soothing, until the stinging pain seeps in.

It stops as abruptly as it starts. You hang open-mouthed and drooling. Panting like a sick pig.

“Why can I not retrieve the coordinates you stole?” Bitch Queen says.

Your tongue is too thick to move. Teeth fit together all wrong. Jaw cracks as you slur, “Accident. Don’t know—”

Claws. Your vision goes gray and speckled. Somebody’s beating the shit outta a goat or something. It wails something terrible.

Then hands release you and you’re kinda aware of falling, limbs twitching and straining against your bindings.

Everything in the world shrinks to the back of your eye sockets and that horrible pain. You try to pull away. Bury yourself. Go somewhere, anywhere. Burt it just keeps going. Doesn’t stop. Ain’t never gonna stop. Gonna shred your mind apart like string cheese—

It vanishes. You’re on your side sucking in dirt. Joints ache. Mouth is full of iron. Oh, that’s blood. You crunched through your tongue.

“Why can I not retrieve the coordinates you stole?”

You want to answer. Need to answer. But your thoughts are soup.

“P-parasite,” you mange. Lips are wet with the taste of metal. “Squid. Illithid. Got b-brainworm. T-tadpole.”

A hushed murmur. Your eyes don’t work right, no more. She’s scrambled you.

“Why have you not changed?”

“D-don’t…”

A mental claw touches you.

“Someone! In d-dreams. Says she, she blocks.”

“Undo it.”

You try to swallow. Your throat hurts. You can only answer one way. And that’s why torture is bullshit. Why it don’t work. Because you only got one truth. You’re happy to share that truth, but she ain’t gonna accept it. And you’re gonna pay for that.

“I can’t,” you say, eyes prickling as you squeeze them shut. “I really…really can’t.”

You know it ain’t gonna help. Ain’t gonna stop. Still, you beg. You got nothing else. Can’t do nothing else.

You just want to go home. You want this all to stop. All of it. Every, single part of this shit ass mess.

But it don’t, because the world is horrible and you got lucky the once. But you ain’t never gotten that lucky ever again. There was only one Sasha in the world. Ain’t nobody every gonna save you.

The claws sink in.

[lokissuper]

Reunion| Dean Winchester x Reader

(So I made a post about this a while ago, this specific idea. Now that im starting to get into writing I thought why not do it myself. So, in this Dean and the reader are dating but also have a kid together. Also, the reader is like a daughter to john so he sees her as so. thx xxoo i will always take feedback and support since im new to this)

-

“Dean! Sam! I’m home,” I yelled when entering the bunker.

Walking down the steps from the door I saw that they around the table in the library. Dead sitting there drinking a beer and Sam looking down at something in his hands, I spoke again, “ Is that it? The thing that is gonna save Dean.”

“Yeah,” Sam said looking at me then over to Dean, “Are you sure you don’t want to call Mom or wait for Cas?”

Dead stood up,” No. If this mojo works like you say, that’s great. But if not...why get their hopes up? I mean you and Y/n being here is fine, I just don’t wan’t you getting your hopes up either.” Dead looked at me then back at Sam, I nodded at him for an okay.

“Yeah.” Sam whispered, “Just hold the pearl and concentrate on what your heart desires.” 

Dean was handed the pearl, “Michael outta my head. Got it.” Picking up the pearl he looks at me for assurance. 

“It’s gonna be fine baby, if it doesn’t work then we’ll figure something else out,” I nodded at him again. 

He looked down at the pearl and closed him eyes shut, and squeezed the pearl in his hand. The electricity crackled, and Sam and I looked at each other as Dean eyes open again. The lights in the bunker turned red, “What the hell?” I spoke quietly. As Sam turned around he saw a dark figure and he lunged at it, me following behind him. The figure punched Sam and I attacked from behind along with Dean, we got a couple of hits in before the mysterious person knocked us to the ground. I groaned, hitting the wood floor but I got over it soon as I heard a gun cock.

“Don’t you move,” the dark figure threatened. 

We all looked at each other then the lights turned back on, we looked up at the man before us. I saw Deans eyes widened and I took a sharp intake of breath, same as Sam.

“Dad?” Dean asked in question.

“John?” I whispered.

The older Winchester looked in question at the three of us on the floor. He finally spoke up,” Dean? Sam? What in the hell? Y/n?” He looked around himself, puzzled at what he found. Sam and Dean slowly got up, Dean helping me up too. 

John continued to speak,”Sammy. Aren’t you supposed to be in Palo Alto?” 

“Palo Alto?” Sammy repeated, looking taken aback by the words.

“What happened to you,” John questioned.

Dean and I still staring at the exchange, Dean finally spoke up,” What year is it?”

John scoffs at us,” Its 2003.” I took a tiny step toward him, the man who raised me. “John, it’s 2019,” I spoke in shock.  He looked skeptical at all of us, not believing the words that were just said.  

“No. How?”

Sam started to sound a little louder, finally finding his voice,” We, uh, I think we summoned you.”

He looked at us like we were crazy,” You guys better tell me what the hell is going on right now.” We nodded at him, actually moving at this point.

“I think we should sit down.” I looked at him.

-

We had made our way to the kitchen and sat down at the table, finally able to catch our breaths after what just happened. Dean and I grabbing some alcohol knowing it would be needed for the future conversation. I knew in the back of my head that Mary was gonna come home soon, and it would be an emotional mess. She had left earlier with Dean and I’s son, wanting to have a day with him.

Dean and I made our way into the kitchen setting down the whiskey and some glasses. Finally sitting down, Dean poured all of us a glass getting ready to talk. 

After telling John about what happened after Yellow-Eyes, sparing the details about Mary and our son. He sat back to take it in, a moment later he spoke,” So, you saved the world? More than once?”

We nodded.

“Then its all true. God, the Devil, and you kids smack in the middle. Now you live in a secret bunker with an angel and Lucifer’s kid.” John said, mind boggled.

“Yeah.” We all spoke together.

“And you’ve done this whole time travel thing before?” John asked.

“A few times,” I looked at him. Dean nodded to my words, finding words himself,” Actually, our grandfather, your dad he’s the one that helped us find this place. I think he’d be real happy to know your finally here.”

They started to talk about the Men of Letters and how Dean and Sam were legacies. John not being able to believe how much we have been through, he spoke” I just wish that I had been there to see it. I went out takin’ out Yellow Eyes. I mean, that was the point, right? Get the thing that killed Mom.” He sipped on his drink nodding. All of us looking at each other, Sam and Dean finally catching on to the fact Mary could be home any minute. Just as Sam was going to tell John, we heard two pairs of footsteps. 

“ Mommy!” I heard a tiny voice yell. I then saw my sons little face peak out and run towards Dean and I.

“Hey baby! Did you have fun?” I smiled at the small child in my arms. 

“Yeah, me and Nana went shopping,” He spoke back to me.

John looked between me and the 4 year old in my arms. He spoke lowly,” Mommy? You have a kid?”

“Yeah, he’s your grandson.” I heard my boyfriend spoke from beside me.

John got teary eyed, “What’s his name? How old is he?”

“His names John Robert Winchester, after you and Bobby. But we do call him Johnny from time to time. Why don’t you show your Papa how old you are?” I asked with tears starting to grow in my eyes too.

Johnny lifted up his fingers showing the number four. I laughed and so did John,” That’s good.”

John smiled at his grandson, but it faltered when he heard a second voice coming from the hallway.

“Sam? Dean? Johnny?” Mary’s voice shouted.

Johns eyes got soft,”Mary?” He turned around at saw Mary standing in the doorway. They locked eyes with each other and they walked toward one another, sharing a kiss. I looked at Sam and Dean nodding at the door, trying to say we should give them some time.

-

I departed from the boys so I could go into mine and Deans room with Johnny. I still couldn’t believe that John was back and how happy Dean must be. It was all he ever wanted, I couldn’t count how many times he told me he wished he could just have one night with his family again. I looked down at Johnny in my arms and smiled.

“Mommy, who was that man with Nana?” he asked me.

I set him down on the bed and sat in front of him.,” That was your grandpa John. I told you that you were named after your Papa, right?” Johnny nodded at me. “Well that was him. Him and Nana are like me and your Daddy.” I spoke to him. 

Dead then walked into the room locking eyes with me. “Hey buddy,” Dean spoke softly to his son. Johnny looked at me and then at his Dad, “Is Papa John here to meet me Daddy?”

Dean looked at Johnny and smiled, kneeling down beside me he said,” Your grandfather travels all over the world and is very busy. He has always wanted to meet you, and now he finally is able to see you.”

Johnny smiled,” Can I go see him?” Dean and I nodded at the happy child sitting in front of us. Dean stood up and told me that he was gonna go check up on his Mom, and that I could bring Johnny to John. 

I walked through the hallways into the Library and saw that John was looking at the books on the shelves. I set Johnny down, and at the noise John turned around. I looked at him in the eye and smiled, Johnny walked over to his grandpa. “Mommy told me that I was named after you,” Johnny spoke up to John. He nodded to his grandson,”Seems that way doesn’t it.”

I walked up to John and said to him,” He is just like Dean in so many ways and with that I can see some of you too. Mostly the stubbornness. ” He smiled at me, and brought me into a hug. I grinned wrapping my arms around him, I heard him say,” It was about damn time you and Dean got together.” I laughed and pulled myself away from him.

“Yeah, I think after what happened with Yellow Eyes it brought us closer together. He tried to pull himself away like he always does but I wouldn’t let him, and I think that’s what caused us to get together.” I sighed but continued on,” We were dating 8 years and then had Johnny, it still blows my mind four years later and we are still going strong.” John smiled at me.

He looked down at Johnny but still spoke to me,” After 12 years and he still hasn’t popped the question. God, I’m gonna need to get on him about that.” I laughed at him. John looked down at Johnny and spoke to him,” You have the best mother and father in the world. Don’t you forget that.” 

Johnny nodded his head,” I know. They always tell me you are the best like Nana.” John looked at me and smiled. 

“No, your Nana is better than me in every way.” John laughed at the little boy, me laughing along with him.

I looked over at John,” Do you know where Sam went?” 

“Him and Dean were gonna head out and grab some stuff for that casserole Mary likes to make,” he responded.

I nodded. 

I bent down toward Johnny and spoke lightly, “How about you and Papa John go and hang out for a while.”

Johnny smiled wide,” Okay!”

He grabbed his grandfather by the hand and led him away. I smiled softly at the image now burned in my brain.

-

“I can’t believe this, we just got him back Dean.” I spoke sternly. “Johnny finally met his grandfather.”

Dean had pulled me aside when him and Sam got back explaining how everything is changing now that John was back.

“I know. But there is something else too,” He looked down at his feet. I looked at him sternly.

“What else?” I asked.

Dean took in a sharp breath before continuing on,” If he stays, it is gonna be like Mom was never here. It’s because we would have never clashed heads with God or the Darkness.” I got teary eyed and tried to say something but Dean held up his hand. He began to speak again,” Also, if he stays Sam thinks that Johnny’s gonna go too. Like you and I never got together because we only ever got together because of Dads death. I already talked to Dad about it.”

I started to silently cry thinking about not having Johnny and not being with Dean. As the tears were falling down my face I asked,” What did John say?”

He pulled me to his chest,”He said that he’s okay with going. That there is no way he is gonna be the reason his grandson can’t grow up, or Mom not being alive again.”

I looked up at him crying harder now, seeing he starting to shed tears too. 

“This sucks,” I said.

“I know, but it’s what he wants.” Dean responded.

I leaned forward and pecked him on the lips then nodded, “Okay.”

Dean then pecked mine back before saying, “ I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

-

We had sat down for dinner, something I knew Dean had always wanted. It was hard to avoid the inevitable but it was good to just be carefree for a while. 

When it was time for John to go back, I had Johnny say goodbye before telling him to go to his room. Me and Dean still not wanting him to be exposed to magic yet. 

Dean, Sam, John, Mary and I all stood in a circle together, ready to see him off. All of us teary eyed and trying to hold in sobs. 

Mary was the first to speak up, “I hate this.”

In which John responded, “So do I.”

John then began to talk to all of us,” Okay.” Looking over at Mary he spoke,”My girl. I miss you so damn much.” Before they kissed each other, for the last time. John then looked at the boys,” You two. You take care of each other.” 

Sam responded,” We always do.”

Dean spoke lightly, “It’s good to see you Dad.”

John sniffled, looking between his sons, “ I am so proud of you boys.” He then turned to me, seeing me there crying.

“And you, I am so proud of the woman you have become. Your no longer that little teenager anymore.” he spoke wiping his eyes before looking between Dean and I.

“You guys deserve each other and that little boy in there. I never thought I would see the day where Dean would grow some balls and ask you out but, here we are,” he said as we all laughed. “You guys take care of that boy, you here me,” John continued.

He then looked sternly at Dean,” If I have to come back just to make sure you finally ask this woman to marry you, I will.” 

We all laughed again. John then leaned forward and brought the three of us into a hug. 

“I love you guys so much.”

Dean sniffled before saying,”We love you too.”

John pulled away telling us he was ready.  He looked at us all one last time, before Sam broke the pearl. We watched as the man we all loved faded away. 

[shirtlesssammy]

6x02: Two and a Half Men

Then:

Sam Winchester’s back from Hell

Now:

A woman runs with her baby from an unseen assailant in her house. She gets herself and her baby under the bed and they stay as quiet as possible. She sees her dead husband on the floor and can barely keep it together, but does, just in time for the assailant to pull her out from the bed, leaving the baby to watch the carnage. 

Dean, Lisa, and Ben start unpacking their life in their new home. 

Sam checks out the murdered couple. The baby is missing.

Dean orders pizza for lunch, disregarding Lisa’s earlier promise to Ben that they’ll check the neighborhood out when they go out for lunch. 

Sam confers with Grampa Campbell about the case. Something weird is happening with babies. Sam doesn’t see it, but notices that the house has a security system that wasn’t set off by the invader. They have a lead. 

Dean wanders into the garage to find Ben messing around with a shotgun from Baby's trunk. He makes it VERY clear that Ben will never shoot a gun. 

Ben wants to do what Dean does. Dean turns on the ol’ John Winchester charm and yells at Ben to shut up about the gun. Ben backs down and walks away, dejected. 

Samuel has found another family that has the same security system --and fits the profile of the previous victims. Sam heads out to find them. 

Lisa confronts Dean about his altercation with Ben. She wants to know what’s up with Dean. If they killed what was after them, why is he acting like this? She gets that he’s trying to protect them, but he’s scaring her. 

Sam gets to the couple’s house only to find them already murdered. He follows bloody footprints through the house. 

The murderer pops out at him and they fight. Sam slices him with a silver knife, and the wound hisses. The assailant runs away. 

While Dean secures the perimeter that night, Sam calls needing his help on a case. Dean insists that he’s out. Sam tells him something so interesting that Dean meets him. 

Sam saved the baby!

The next morning, Dean hands Lisa a gun, tells her to salt the doors and windows, and takes off to work the case with Sam. 

First on the agenda: shopping for baby supplies. As they’re checking out, the baby starts wailing. Neither brother knows what to do --and here I want to question what the hell Dean’s thinking. Sam has an excuse re: no soul, but Dean, you’ve taken care of a baby before. Anyway, they keep looking at the poor thing like it has two heads. 

A nice woman comes up to coo over the baby and asks his name. Dean answers, “Bobby” and Sam answers, “John”. Yep, the baby is named Bobby John. She offers to change his diapers for them. Dean glances over at a security monitor and sees that her eyes are glowing. 

Dean declines. More specifically he says, “Give me the baby before I stab you in the neck.” Bold. The lady takes off running with Bobby John. Sam wrestles the baby from her while Dean full body tackles her to the ground. She plays the old lady card and security comes after Dean. He runs. 

Sam and Dean need to get off the road, especially since the shifter caught Sam’s license plate and is now a cop tracking the number.

At a motel, Dean changes Bobby John’s diaper and then hums him to sleep with Smoke on the Water. EVERY TIME I’m sorry to say this just makes my brain emit a low, steady brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

For Tender Dean Science:

Okay, I’ve rebooted. 

Sam - who has spent the whole time seated in front of research material - is impressed at Dean’s fatherly chops. But like, HE RAISED YOU, SAMMY. You must at least be able to logically analyze your memories? Dean chalks up his skillz to his recent experience parenting Ben. “I know he’s not my kid, but lately I’ve been feeling like...yeah, he is.” He’d like to raise Ben better than they grew up. In related news, do you ever want to just chew off your own arm???

Soulless!Sam informs Dean that moving Lisa and Ben from place to place is just as bad as their own fractured childhood. 

Sam pushes Dean to consider that his paranoid behavior is turning him into their father. I do like that Sam is helping my girl Lisa out with the traumatized man living in her home but DAMN, SAM. While Dean broods over his failures as both a father and a partner, Sam realizes that the dad in the recent deadly home invasion is still alive. He heads out, leaving Dean to dip his finger in whiskey and let Bobby John have a taste.

Bobby John’s dad is...not bereaved. His wife was cheating on him and got pregnant. (So apparently she deserved a gruesome death? Huh. Good to know, dude.) She denied she was cheating, telling him that he’d come back early from a trip and they’d had sex. It’s fun how the layers of trauma this cold open woman goes through just get worse and worse. 

At the motel, Dean’s relaxing on the vibrating bed when there’s a wet explosion from the crib. It’s not a poopy diaper! When he peers over the crib, Bobby John’s an entirely new baby. (He’s the baby on the diapers box and I really hope those parents got to keep that prop!) Sam calls with a new theory - the baby’s father is a shapeshifter!

Bobby John gets cleaned up just in time for a shady manager to knock on the door and demand to be let in. The shapeshifter cop from earlier bursts in just as Dean unlocks the door. He’s there to bring the baby to “our father,” whomever that is! They engage in fisticuffs, until Sam arrives and shoots the shifter.

Later, they’re driving off with Bobby John to find a safe haven for the little tyke. “I didn’t even know they had babies,” Sam says, of shifters. “I thought they were just freaks of nature - like, X-Men style.” Gurl, please. He refers to Bobby John as a monster, but Dean insists that Bobby John is just an innocent baby. If I had a dollar for every time this show danced around this point only to fuck off and forget it in the next episode, I’d have a lot of dollars. 

Sam suggests bringing Bobby John to the Campbells to raise, which Dean thinks is a monumentally poor idea. (I’m Dean/Cas endgame BUT imagine society if Dean had brought Lisa a shapeshifter baby to raise!!!) Sam “not all hunters” the Campbells, then says that Samuel is like Dean. This is...not the slam dunk argument Sam thinks it is. “I’m a freakin’ head case,” Dean rebuts and it is a SOLID REBUTTAL. Still, they head to the Campbell’s compound.

And it is a literal compound, with armed guards standing patrol at the metal gates. In the grim main building, cold Campbells circle Dean and Bobby John like sharks. All the Campbells look like they’re one step away from taking a knife to the baby. Dean refuses to hand over Bobby John to any of the “family.” Sam asks to hold Bobby John. Sam then immediately turns around and hands Bobby John over to Samuel and I CHEW MY OWN ARM OFF I HATE SOULLESS!SAM sometimes. Dean wants to know what the plan is now.

All the dark looks shot between the Campbells make me want to scream, and then weep. 

Dean’s worried about the Campbells wanting to study Bobby John (in the mad scientist way) and Christian Campbell laconically comments that Dean’s mind goes straight to torture. When Dean demands an explanation, it’s revealed that the Campbells know aaalllll about Dean’s torture time in Hell. 

The Campbells also fantasize about what a great hunter a shapeshifter will make. Samuel demands that Dean trust him, and then interrogates Christian about his baby-making failures with his wife. He offers Bobby John to Christian. “The crap I do for this family,” Christian mutters as he takes the baby. READERRRRRRRRRS, I hate him.

Outside, a dog yelps. Dean and Sam flee for the panic room with Bobby John while the Campbells load up with weapons. A shapeshifter arrives, wearing Samuel’s face. They tranquilize him after a fight, and try to take him prisoner. 

The shifter heads down to the panic room wearing Sam’s face, tosses Sam across the room, and then just...shimmers himself into Dean’s form. 

The shifter pins Dean against the wall, cutting off his air until he passes out. He then takes Bobby John and calmly walks out. 

Later, they all reconvene after the fight. Samuel reveals that the shifter was an alpha shifter, who spawned all the other shifters. “The lore” also says that an alpha can sense their babies anywhere. 

As Dean and Sam walk out to the car, Dean goes over the details of the hunt. He wants to know if Sam registered what the shifter at the motel had said about his “father.” Sam lies incredibly poorly, but Dean puts it all together. If Sam knew the alpha was on the hunt, then he would have known that he would come after Bobby John. Dean wants to know if he was using the baby as bait. Sam plays it off - he just thought the Campbell compound was the safest place. UGH DOUBLE UGH at all the terrible layers. 

Samuel has a brief phone call, complaining to an unknown boss about how hard it was to try to take the alpha shifter prisoner. 

Back at Lisa’s, Dean frets about the best way to keep Lisa and Ben safe. He acknowledges that he’s been acting like a prison guard. “You tell yourself you’re not gonna be something...my dad was exactly like this. All the time. Scared the hell outta me.” Lisa tells him that she knows one thing: 

She looks at him, and sees someone who wants to hunt. But she also tells him that he sees himself as “some bad, awful thing. But you're not.” She proposes that Dean head out to hunt with his brother, and stop by when he can. Maybe they can have it all!

Dean smiles a real, honest smile in the garage as he pulls the car cover from Baby. Smoke on the Water plays us through a truly gratuitous hot rod close-up of Baby. The curves! The headlights!

For I’m Just Gonna Give You Two the Room Science:

Dean is back in town!

Baby Quotes:

So either we've got monsters grabbing babies to make baby stew, or we've got a bunch of psychotic yokels grabbing babies to make baby stew. Either way, it's baby stew, which is bad

You think I speak baby?

I've never seen a baby monster before

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[1kook]

acatalepsy

— 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ; 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦

chapter summary; The amount of times he’s seen you stretch yourself thin for this place was unreal. Jungkook liked Oleander as much as the next person, but occasionally he’d get hit with doubts. What would they do once the entity found them? Jungkook thinks he’d run. He’d take you and run far away, leaving this whole place behind. He’ll never tell you this, though, because he knew you loved Oleander too much. And if you didn’t, the responsibilities that tied you to it would never let you abandon the people like that anyway. overall warnings; gorey scenes, depictions of death, appearance of weapons, survival!au, apocalypse!au, super l o o s e bird box!au (no birds - jk is the bird 👀), eventual smut, dark and angsty, major character death chapter specifics; nudity, mentions of masturbation, unreal levels of horniness from jungkook, mentions of death, 1 fight scene, use of weapons, jungkook abusing tf outta pet names, loads of pessimistic jungkook word count; 10k

notes; as always ty to my amazing editor rumu 🥺<333 this part isn't as dark as part one, but anyway enjoy in love but on edge jungkook lmao 

part one ⇠ part two ⇢ part three (soon!)

[ twelve months later]

“Rise and shine!” Taehyung sings, ripping the flap of his tent open for the world (the base) to see, sunlight filtering in through the gap like the trickling of water over a brook. Satisfied with the disruption, Taehyung flounces off to wake another poor soul from their sleep, leaving Jungkook to fend against the rays of the sun by himself. There’s a breeze this morning, one that makes the flimsy flaps bristle with each gush of wind, sunlight roving over him in intervals that leave Jungkook groaning in annoyance.

He can only stand it for so long, eventually rolling off his sleeping bag when he hears more voices outside beginning to grunt, the pop of bones as people do their morning stretches. With a final yawn, Jungkook decides to show his face to the outside world, stumbling out of his tent with sleep crusted eyes that have him bumping into a kid first thing in the morning, a slew of apologies thrown his way.

“Sorry, Jungkook!” The group of them call, skirting off in a fit of giggles. Jungkook waves them off, stretching his arms out in front of him as he waits for Namjoon to wake up.

The man in the tent next door is usually pretty good at rising before Taehyung’s wake up call, more often than not waiting for Jungkook. Today, however, is seemingly an off day. Five minutes roll by and Jungkook's patience is as long as his pinky— short. Such is proven when he barges into the tent only to find Namjoon sprawled out like a starfish inside.

“Hey,” he says, nudging his foot against the unconscious man’s calf. “Joon, we gotta go if you wanna get the good spot by the river.” More silence. Eventually, Jungkook gets mean and leans down to pinch his side, an action that not only wakes Namjoon, but also has him squealing at the touch.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he gasps, scrambling far away from Jungkook in a frenzied rush. Only after he’s knocked over his plastic bottle and the makeshift twig drying rack he dries his clothes and towel on does he calm down. “Oh, Kook. It’s you.”

Jungkook nods, eyes struggling to stay awake. “Yes, it is I, Jungkook, who would love to take a bath before __ yells at me for being late to breakfast again.”

Namjoon grunts as he gets up, taking his towel and day clothes with him as they exit his tent. At the creek, Jungkook drops his boxers—one of the four he owns and wears on rotation—and has to endure three minutes of Seokjin catcalling him. Him and some other fellow are guarding the creek bed today, guns cradled against their chests as Jungkook, Namjoon, and a few more people crawl into the water.

When Jungkook had first arrived, the thought of bathing with so many people made him uncomfortable. His nude form wasn’t something he went around showing everyone, and now he was expected to just show it to a bunch of strangers? Even worse, the people who stood guard against the river, eyes peeled for any potential threats. It all made him very nervous.

Now Seokjin’s calculated expression as he glances over the treeline behind them comforts Jungkook. The world was weird like that.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook groans, the same way he does every other day they bathe, muscles jumping at the cold water that tickles his toes. He sighs as he walks deeper into the freezing coldness. He rinses himself off, half heartedly splashing his body with water; at its deepest it only reaches above his knee.

Namjoon is off today, probably from the extended watch they had last night, eyes scanned over the dark forest as they waited for you and some other people to return from a scavenging trip that took about three days. It was just before dawn when you returned and his replacements relieved them of their duties. When they sit down to wash their hair, he nearly falls face first into Jungkook’s knee.

Jungkook cackles at the sight, trying to pretend like his nipples aren’t freezing as he fully envelopes himself in the water. “You alright, man?” He asks, running his fingernails through his hair. A couple of the people bathing further down the creek get up and leave, dressing by the bank. He knew they were a little late today, but Jesus, were they fast or what?

Namjoon nods, and the poor guy doesn’t even have the energy to defend himself when Jungkook childishly slaps a wave of water his way. “Just tired,” he admits, beginning to wash his own hair. With most of the people finished, Seokjin lets the other guard go early, leaving just the three of them at the creek.

“Hurry it up, ladies,” Seokjin calls, and Jungkook is only a little disappointed that his splash doesn’t reach him all the way over by his perch.

Luckily, before he can retort, there’s a silkier voice drifting through his ears, one that immediately makes every hair on his body stand straight. “What are you trying to say about ladies, Seokjin?” You ask as you come up behind him, and Jungkook is immediately flooded with warmth at your early morning appearance. Seokjin flounders for an answer you pay no mind to, eyes snapping to where Jungkook is instead.

“Need you at the armory in five, Kook,” you tell him, and he wonders if you know the way your voice makes his chest pound.

Pushing those juvenile thoughts away, Jungkook quickly slaps on a goofy grin for you. “Oh? You hear that, boys? Our great leader needs some alone time with me,” he boasts, and Namjoon rolls his eyes at his antics.

“She’d rather choke than be with a pleb like you,” Seokjin snorts, finally dropping his guard stance as Namjoon and him get out of the water. “Jesus, Kook—again?” He groans, covering your eyes with his rifle as Jungkook stands up, half-hard boner and all.

He’s grown used to it, the occasional hard on he gets in the water, like he’s some superhuman who’s developed immunity to the usual effects of cold water on a hard dick. But he can’t help it, it’s been over a year since he last got his dick wet, and being disgustingly in love with a woman who didn’t know certainly didn’t help. “What’s wrong?” You frown, hand wrapping around the barrel of Seokjin’s gun that blocks your vision.

Namjoon tosses him his towel, and he’s just knotted it around his waist when you catch his eye again, unimpressed as usual. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” he teases, turning his body away from you as he shimmies his clothes on. He can still feel your glare on his exposed backside, but living in Oleander has made him comfortable in his birthday suit, so he really doesn’t mind. When he’s halfway dressed, pant legs haphazardly stuffed into the big, chunky boots Namjoon had brought back for him once, he turns around, shirt tossed over his bare shoulder, to follow you back to the base.

“And you’re requesting my presence so early in the morning, why?” He hums, toweling his hair dry as the two of you finally reach Oleander. There’s significantly more people milling about now, kids playing a game of soccer in the middle of the grounds, while others travel to and from the mess hall. There’s a wonderful scent emanating from the mess hall’s open front, and Jungkook wishes desperately you’ll lead him there instead.

You don’t, politely bidding people good morning until you reach the door to the armory, waving Jungkook in. “Needed you,” you explain, clattering around the space in search for something. The armory has gotten some pretty good upgrades in the past year he’s been here, graduating from a shabby box to full on storage container. It took a while to get it to this size, the wood working process more difficult than any of them thought, but they were all proud of it now.

Over the past year, Oleander has grown in size, a fact which causes great turmoil in Jungkook. On one hand, he’s glad he and the others have been able to save more people, take them under their wings in this scary new world. On the other, he feels like he’s always on edge.

It was a known fact that the entity was drawn to established civilizations, and with each new person that joined, Jungkook is left wondering what exactly that means. The last he heard, they were sitting somewhere near one hundred seventy. That was about one hundred more than when he first arrived. Was there some unknown number they had to avoid? Would the entity sense their presence once they reached two hundred residents, deem them an established society that needed wrecking?

He doesn’t know. They’ve been lucky enough so far, never having been caught by the entity on Oleander grounds. But other groups of scavengers hadn’t. Despite their growing numbers, they’ve lost people as well. Some they knew were caught up by neighboring bases—the Magnolians in particular, who killed on sight—and would return in groups smaller than when they were dispatched. Others never returned at all, presumably infected with the madness.

Nonetheless, Oleander continued to grow. They weren’t a spattering of tents and loose rules anymore, erecting more shabbily constructed buildings along the way. Like a privacy room for a pregnant woman they’d found and another small storage for the vegetables they began growing last fall.

Jungkook groans as he settles into a seat across from you, tugging his shirt over his shoulders. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You level him with an unamused glare, tossing a dirt-caked bullet at him. He catches it in one hand, twirls the bronzed metal between his fingers. “What happened to the quiet guy who couldn’t even look me in the eye?” You huff, pulling up a crate to sit before him.

Jungkook squints at the bullet, finally catching sight of an engraved brand name he’s almost certain they don’t have. “Life,” he murmurs absentmindedly. “Where did you get this?” He asks, finally glancing back at you.

Your arms are crossed over your chest, and he’s come to learn you do this one of two times: one when you’re feeling especially confident, unconsciously garnering everyone’s attention with such a pose, and the other when something is bothering you. Judging by the quirk of your lips, Jungkook guesses it’s the latter.

“Found it on our way back,” you relay, huffing as you recall the memory. Jungkook raises a brow at the news, gesturing for you to elaborate. “By the mouth of the creek.”

That’s a couple miles away, he thinks, sitting back in his seat in a pose that mimics yours. He and Taehyung had spent an entire day following the creek behind the base, traced it miles out until they’d reached a larger river that Jungkook only barely remembered learning about in high school geography. A river meant fish, a revelation that had excited them both after eating nothing but canned foods for the past few months. Of course, you hadn’t been as thrilled when they returned to base hours later, having left without telling anyone. He still remembers the watery sheen to your eyes as you had cursed them to hell and back.

“Our creek?” He asks, just to make sure, and you confirm with a nod. “Damn,” he scoffs, rubbing a hand over his chin in a habit he picked up from Hobi. “We gotta go check it out.”

The handful of bases they stumbled upon this past year were far and few between. Most times, you, their leader, would approach any camps you saw first and meet with their respective leader. They hardly ever interacted with you again, because there was always that looming sense of competition between survivor camps like yours.

In fact, the only group Jungkook could think of that blatantly went out of their way to cause problems was the one that had so lovingly almost beat him to death when he was at his lowest: Magnolia. It feels like a lifetime ago.

You agree. “That’s what I was thinking,” you sigh, raising to your feet. “But I don’t wanna risk anyone getting hurt if it is dangerous, y’know?”

He follows after you, leaning against a folding table he and the guys snatched off some lawn during their last scavenge. A bitch to carry back, but it was definitely worth it. “Yeah, keep it small,” he suggests, running through a list of all their active scavengers in his head. “Maybe five?”

You shake your head, nibbling your lip nervously. “Too risky. I was thinking less.”

“Less?” Jungkook chokes. “Babe, you can’t send a smaller group than that, that’s suicide.” Never mind the fact he and Taehyung had been completely okay with dallying off like that just a few months ago. Semantics Jungkook refuses to acknowledge. “Besides, I don’t think anyone would volunteer for that.”

You glance at him for a moment, and he can visibly see your brain working overtime, before you’re turning away with a determined look on your face. “Listen,” you sigh, hands flat on the table. Jungkook peers down at your twisted features. “I’m not asking anyone to volunteer,” you explain. “I’ll go.”

Jungkook scoffs. “Like hell you will,” he retorts. “And when those fuckers catch you all alone and kill you?” You don’t say a word, lower lip caught between your teeth as you glare down at the bullet.

“Then you move on,” you finally breathe. “Get a new leader. Probably move the camp.”

Jungkook could gouge his eyes out. “Babe, what,” he stresses. “No. You’re not gonna go on a mission like that alone.”

Finally turning away from whatever trance the bullet has you in, you cross your arms over your chest. “Really? And what’s stopping me?”

“Me,” he enforces, stepping into your space. “You aren’t gonna go and confront whatever psycho is out there. Baby, do you even realize how reckless that sounds?”

“I do!” You snap. “Which is why I don’t want other people going.” You step away, rub your fingers against your forehead as you lose yourself in an even deeper train of thought.

“Then I'm going too,” Jungkook announces, whirling away before you can tell him no.

A hand catches his shoulder, forcefully tugging him back around. He’s met with your wide eyes, flickering over his face in worry. “Jungkook, now’s not the time to play hero,” you plead.

He scoffs. “Could say the same to you.”

Groaning you push him away. “Please,” you huff. “Just stay here. It’s probably nothing and I’ll come back after sunset.”

“If it’s nothing then I don't see the issue with me going,” he points out. In the back of his head, he’s vaguely aware he’s volunteering himself for the very same plan he claimed no one would volunteer for just a few moments ago. It was crazy what one woman and a thundering heart could do to him. But he’d follow you on a thousand stupid missions if it meant keeping you safe. “When are we leaving?”

To prevent inciting any panic among the Oleanderians over one bullet, the only person you tell about this trip is Hoseok. Jungkook thinks it’s dumb. Actually, Jungkook thinks this whole idea is pretty dumb, and that they could benefit greatly from taking at least one more person along, even if that person was half-asleep Namjoon.

You don’t share the same sentiment as you haul a tiny bag of supplies over his shoulder, gesturing for Jungkook to get moving.

Right as the two of you step off Oleander grounds, Seokjin’s voice comes barreling around the corner. Jungkook sees the noticeable displeasure in your features as the two of you pause, watching the nurse torpedo towards the two of you. “Where are you two going?” He immediately begins interrogating. You glance at Jungkook who only glances back at you, urging you to respond to Jin. Normally, he would’ve told the guy to simply fuck off. But since this is your secret plan he wants to see what lie you’ll toss out this time.

With an indignant roll of your eyes you turn to face the older man. “I’m taking Jungkook out for some practice,” you fib, and Jungkook is a little offended you would even insinuate he needs more practice. “His knee has been hurting again so we wanna take it slow.”

It’s probably the lamest excuse you can give. Seokjin was well aware of the ache in his knee, caused by years of training on the field and torn ligaments that have long since healed over. He knows everything there is to know about Jungkook’s knee, especially the fact it only hurt after a scavenging trip, and as far as he was concerned, Jungkook hadn’t gone on a trip in the past two weeks.

“Uh huh,” Seokjin says, and Jungkook can tell he doesn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth for one second.

At this point, he’s desperate to start down the creek, prove there truly is no harm down there as you suspect, and whisk you back to the O quickly. If that means he has to put the charm on Seokjin, then that’s fine by him.

“Listen, big guy,” Jungkook steps forward, pushing you behind him. “Me and the boss are gonna get some practice,” a greasy wink he’s glad you don’t see, “if you know what I mean. So do me a solid and lay off this once?”

Jungkook’s excuse only makes Seokjin even more wary, but sensing he won’t get a serious answer out of the two of you, he backs off. “Fine,” he agrees, stepping away. He throws a glance over at you, “let me know if this sleaze tries anything with you.”

You nod, tugging Jungkook down towards the creek bed hastily. “Really? That was your best excuse?” You snap with a unbelieving look in your eye. “Another sexual joke?”

Jungkook shrugs. “What can I say? It’s my brand,” he halfheartedly defends, soon falling into step beside you as you hurry alongside the creek bed. He doesn’t see the need to rush, considering this will most likely be a long trip.

It takes about three and half hours to get to the huge river the creek trickles into. The long distance is the main reason fish hadn’t become completely integrated into the mess hall’s admittedly small menu like he and Taehyung had dreamt about. Normally he doesn’t mind the seven hours to and from if he’s with the guys, a scenic walk that’s filled with countless jokes here and there.

With you, however, every nerve in Jungkook’s body is lit ablaze, his thoughts bouncing wildly in his head as the realization he’ll get to spend the whole day with you alone dawns over him.

Despite the fact he’s known you for the past year, there’s still a lot of unknown mystery that surrounds you.

Well, not really a mystery.

Mostly just little things he wants to know about you, the woman who saved him when he was so alone and lost; the woman he feels himself growing more and more enamored with as the days go by.

From what he’s gathered, you were in a master’s program when the entity first appeared, living in a small town just outside the city. You had escaped the entity by sheer luck.

You were on a jog when it happened, you told him, headphones blasting when the calamity hit. Slowly, the world around you had crumbled, people falling victim to the madness and ending their lives before your very eyes. So terrified, you had dropped to the ground in a ball, sobbed to the soundtrack of some Top 50 playlist for hours amidst the dead bodies that littered the streets of your neighborhood. Until, eventually, the entity had left, losing your presence amongst all the death that surrounded you.

This was all something Jungkook had only learned about a few months ago, in a rare moment of vulnerability. That moment had been the only time you had ever laid your heart out like that, shared with him a piece of yourself. Ever since then, he was desperate to learn more.

Not wasting a second longer, Jungkook jumps headfirst into it. “Soooo, what’re we doing for your birthday this year?” He hums, peering down at your features.

You say nothing, eyes glancing furtively through the vast amounts of trees ahead of you for any signs of life. There’s no one out here, a fact both of you know, but he supposes it never hurts to be cautious. “You don’t know my birthday,” you remind him.

“How am I supposed to know it when you hide it away like it’s some mind blowing national secret?” He says cheekily. “I’ll tell you mine. It’s September first.”

Most men would feel discouraged by your lack of interest in the conversation, but not Jungkook. He’s grown used to your aloof exterior, finds it kind of endearing actually. After a moment, you pointedly announce, “Jungkook, I haven’t known what day it is for months now... birthdays practically mean nothing to me.”

“It’s June second,” he says right away, and his confidence surprises you if the way you pause is any indication. He stops beside you, tilts his head at your reluctant gaze.

“How would you know that?” You ask in disbelief, one hand on your hip. The semi-automatic pistol you have strapped to your waist bounces against your thigh. “We haven’t seen a calendar in months, and if we did, we wouldn’t even know what day it was.”

Jungkook shrugs. “It’s mostly just a guess,” he admits, pointing at a patch of pink flowers sprouting near the water. “Oleanders usually bloom at the end of spring. I’m surprised you didn’t know considering you named your little campgrounds after them,” he playfully jabs, crossing his arms over his chest as your eyes trail over toward the pink flowers beside your foot.

His heart falls straight out of his ass when you begin crouching down, fingers outstretched towards the flora. “They’re poisonous, you idiot,” he scolds, yanking you up by the elbow.

Jungkook can count on one hand the moments he’s truly left you flustered, and part of him is a little disappointed that it’s some stupid death flowers that make it onto the list. But your lips are adorably puckered, gaze flickering away from him in embarrassment at your slip up, and Jungkook can’t believe the hammering of his heart. “Oh,” you murmur, and then, impossibly quieter, “sorry.”

He sighs, quiets the thumping in his chest. After a moment, he throws a hand over your shoulders, guiding you back down the creek as if your little moment of stupidity didn’t just happen. “Wow, our brave leader sure is a dummy,” he exclaims, nearly faints at the small smile you hide from him.

“Shut up,” you retort, but there’s no malice in your words and you don’t push Jungkook’s arms away. “I’m bad at remembering which ones are harmful, okay? That’s more down Hoseok’s lane.” It certainly was down Hobi’s lane, considering the man had run a floral business prior to this catastrophe. Jungkook knows he’s the one who gave Oleander its name, at first just as a warning for the younger kids to avoid the flower, but it never hurts to tease you about it.

It’s little things like this that he treasures between the two of you, moments that nestle their way into the cracks of his heart. Not that you’ll ever understand.

The walk to the river ends up being shorter than he remembers, and after a few hours of bantering the tinkling trickle of the creek is replaced with the rapid currents ahead. “Where was it?” He asks, all traces of glee wiped from his face as he keeps his eyes focused on the tree line. He hears your telltale shuffling behind him as you retrace your steps, calculated steps that suddenly come to a halt. “Babe?” He calls out after a moment.

There’s a soft breeze in the air that ruffles his hair. It’s not the gust of wind that precedes the entity, but it still sets Jungkook on edge, hand reaching for his rifle.

A scuffle behind him causes him to whirl around, gun out and pointed at whatever made the sound, only to find you with a gun pressed to your temple. Jungkook swears.

Some guy he’s never seen before holds you captive, gloved palm pressed over your mouth uncomfortably, your hand clutching at his wrist. Jungkook takes comfort in the fact you at least put up a fight, matching the barrel against your forehead with a pistol to the guy’s neck. All in all, it’s pretty even on both ends. Well, not completely, Jungkook thinks, finger tightening on the trigger.

Before he can so much as think, there’s something prodding against his lower back, a low voice purring, “drop it, lover boy,” against his ear.

Knowing when he’s been outdone, Jungkook lowers his arms with a frustrated sigh, letting the guy that snuck up behind him tug the sack you carefully prepared off his shoulders and dump it onto the ground. He catches your gaze, dark eyes seeming to convey a message he doesn’t understand, not the least bit bothered by the man holding you at gunpoint. “Anything good?” The one holding you asks.

The one behind Jungkook steadies the weapon pressed to his back, nudges through the pile on the floor with his foot. “Some snacks, but nothing long lasting.”

The dark haired one cusses, tightening his hold on you. Jungkook wants nothing more than to lunge forward, tear the guy apart for laying his dirty hands on you. “Hey, lover boy,” he barks, and Jungkook’s glare only intensifies. “Where’d you find this stuff?”

Jungkook snorts. “I’m not telling you shit,” he spits, much to their dismay, and Jungkook groans when the one behind him slams the butt of his weapon against the back of his skull, sending him onto his knees. Another flurry of movement, and when his vision clears back up you’ve got your pistol pointed at the man behind Jungkook this time, leaving yourself completely defenseless against your captor. Jungkook curses at your recklessness.

Just once he wants you to put yourself first, value your life the same way he does. Now the both of you are left vulnerable, held at gunpoint by two men presumably from another camp.

“Well,” his attacker leers, “you sure managed to find yourself a good girl out here, huh?”

The second the words leave his mouth Jungkook knows they’re in for a show.

If there was one thing you hated more than anything in this fucked up world, it was being reduced to a man’s accessory. Anyone in Oleander could rave about how great you were—hell, Jungkook did it every chance he got. A lot of the Oleanderians held a lot of respect for you. You were their leader, a title they had pushed onto you until you accepted. To have your grueling efforts, your hard work, brushed aside because of your appearance enraged you like no other.

Just as he predicted, the flame in your gaze grows tenfold, the strength you’d been hiding coming out of the container you usually locked it up in. Your body moves swiftly, knocking back forcefully into your captor before leaning forward, using the hand on his wrist to haul him over your shoulder like a sumo wrestler. Neither of them see it coming, and in his shock, the dark haired one pulls his trigger, a bullet shooting into the ground with a loud crack.

The sound startles Jungkook and the other man but Jungkook capitalizes on their shock first, whirling around to meet the guy’s face for the first time, greeting him with a clenched fist. The intensity of his punch leaves the man recoiling, blindly stumbling back as Jungkook pushes on. When the man falls back, bloody nose and all, Jungkook reaches for his weapon, only to find a steel pipe in its place. Fuck, who were these conmen?

Eventually Jungkook corners him against the base of a tree, fuming at the fact these idiots had fooled him with empty threats, tricked him into thinking he was seriously in danger with a fucking scrap of metal.

Despite the way they had stealthily crept up on the two of you, these guys have neither the experience nor support to successfully pull off a stunt like this. This much is evident when he glances back and finds you wrestling the other guy’s arms behind his back. Following your example, he hauls his attacker up by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the tree. “Who are you with?” He hisses, watching the guy squirm in his hold. “Who the fuck are you with?” He repeats, and the guy finally breaks.

“No one! No one. It’s just the two of us, me and Yoongi, no one else,” he rambles, and Jungkook glances back at you. You were significantly better than him at detecting lies, and one solemn nod from you has him releasing his grip, angrily kicking the damn piece of tubing far into the distance.

“So you’re strays,” you announce a few moments later, arms crossed over your chest in that famous power stance, eyes scanning over the figures of the two men Jungkook had pushed to their knees in front of you.

“Yes,” Jimin, the one who had originally attacked Jungkook, confirms. “It’s been just us two for a few months now.”

You let his answer sit for a few beats. “Where did you get this gun? This is the same one the  Magnolia carry,” you state, and Jungkook wants to laugh at your stern approach, because just minutes ago you were fighting off a smile at his fourth knock knock joke. Instead, he schools his expression, gathering their things back into the sack Jimin had so lovingly dumped earlier.

Yoongi sighs, and Jungkook is extra wary of him, because it seems he is the one who orchestrated their little attack. “We attacked two of them. Took the gun and some other things before they could call for help. We’ve only had it for a few weeks now,” he confesses.

Jungkook snorts. These guys sure were brave, he thinks. One measly gun and they became bold enough to pull a stunt like this. If it were up to him he’d take their admittedly small resources and throw them back out into the forest with nothing for their half-assed efforts.

Sadly, it’s not. He watches you mull over their responses, can practically hear the invitation sitting on the tip of your tongue. It’s not the first time he’s found himself in a situation like this with you, your overwhelming need to invite nearly every stray you stumbled upon back to the O. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you turn someone away.

Briefly he wonders if you had the same doubts as him. How many people constituted a functional society? They’d never know until the day the entity shows up. Until then, he knows you’ll keep taking strays in.

As predicted, the offer appears. “We have a place,” you begin, and Jungkook’s eyes can’t roll far back enough. Leave it to you to invite these half-assed clowns back to Oleander.

Silently, Jungkook walks off to sulk elsewhere, still mad that he’d let some idiot take advantage of his lack of sight to trick him into believing he had a gun to his back.

Later, when you’re wrapping up your extensive history of Oleander to these two strangers, you wander back towards where Jungkook’s been leaning against a tree. The two men follow behind tentatively, and you gesture for them to start up the creek bed, pointing toward the general direction of Oleander.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare, one you have no problem returning. “Really?” He drawls. “Inviting back the guys who tried to kill you?”

You ignore him, falling into step a few meters behind the two men. Jungkook follows. “They don’t have anywhere else to go,” you mention. “Besides, they’re not dangerous.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Babe, these guys were willing to kill you over a bag of granola bars and water,” he emphasizes, throwing a glance their way. “You think they won’t try that at the O?”

You shrug. Jungkook could strangle you.

“Kook, one of them had a pipe. He can’t really kill you with that,” you remind him, as if he isn’t embarrassed enough. “They’re obviously smart guys,” you add, your arm brushing against his. “It wouldn’t hurt to have people who can think like that back at Oleander.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I can get creative, too, y’know,” he huffs.

His childishness makes you snort, a small hand patting the small of his back comfortingly. “I know you can,” you smile. “But for every smart Kook idea, I have ten dumb Namjoon ideas. It would help to have someone else to balance them out.”

Placated, Jungkook lets it go. “I just want you to be careful, babe,” he murmurs, watching the two men ahead of him with caution.

Nodding along to his concern, you call out to the men to carry on left when you reach a break in the creek. “I know, and I’m always grateful to you for that,” you reply, the hand on his back drawing soothing circles. He hates how easily you can calm him down. “Just please trust in my decisions this once.”

It’s a cruel jab that makes his heart ache.

Jungkook doesn’t want you to think he questions your decisions as their leader, even if sometimes he does. He knows how stressful it is for you to have all these people depending on you, so he’ll never tell you you’re doing a bad job. Still, you have your moments where you’re a little too reckless, a little too careless.

Like today. If you had come out alone, Jungkook doesn’t know what these men would have done to you. He doesn’t like when you make decisions like that, sacrifice yourself for others like that, but he also doesn’t want to make you think you’re a bad leader, because you’re not. Just a little dumb sometimes.

Jungkook says nothing, sensing this is a losing battle. They trek back to Oleander in relative silence, a three hour walk that ends a little past sunset.

Jimin and Yoongi get the same golden welcome as every new person does at Oleander, with Hoseok cheerily showing them around the grounds and letting Seokjin check over their health. It’s the exact same process Jungkook went through when he first came here, and perhaps that’s why he feels so put off by the way you skirt around your discovery of them when Hoseok asks. You lie and say you found them on the way back from your training, not mentioning the fact they attacked you.

They end up moving into Namjoon’s tent, with Namjoon moving in with Jungkook. He doesn’t seem the least bit critical of Jimin and Yoongi, and Jungkook guesses no one besides him ever will.

With summer upon them, the seeds they planted last fall sprout beautifully. The chefs at the mess hall serve the most organic pizza Jungkook’s ever had, made in the clay oven Namjoon spent hours on last fall. He eats and leaves right away, ignoring his friends’ confused expressions when he skips out on their evening gossip session at the hall.

The tent feels smaller with Namjoon’s sleeping bag squeezed inside, his casual clothes and Jungkook’s blue tracksuit pushed against the opposite end of the tent.

He wonders how he’s supposed to jack himself off now that he doesn’t have his own private space. The longer he thinks, he realizes this current moment might be the last semblance of privacy he ever has, and scrambles to take advantage of the opportunity. His hand has just unbuckled his belt, the zipper on his pants halfway down, when you suddenly appear unannounced.

“Holy shit,” he yelps, covering his crotch with his hands. You pay him no attention, eyes flickering over the newly remodeled space. “Can you knock?!”

“Jungkook,” you say, dropping down to sit beside him on the ground. He hurries to close the front of his pants. “Are you upset with me?”

“No,” he drones, his last peaceful masturbation session slipping between his fingers. “I was actually quite horny before you broke in and gave me a heart attack.”

You frown, glancing at the front of his pants as if you’re just realizing you interrupted a very precious moment of his. “I didn’t realize,” you mumble apologetically, but Jungkook waves you off quickly.

“Forget it,” he sighs, leaning back on his palms. “What’s up with you, doll?” He asks instead, suddenly aware of the worried pinch between your brows, lips downturned as you regard him.

“Nothing,” you assure him, hands cutely folded into your lap. In another life, in another universe, he imagines you would have sat like that on a first date, fingers nervously fiddling with each other. “It’s just…” you hesitate, something he rarely sees you do. “I get the feeling you’re still upset with me for bringing Jimin and Yoongi back to Oleander,” you confess. “You skipped out on dessert.”

Frankly, he is.

Despite the talk you shared on the way back, Jungkook can’t help but feel bringing those two back was a bad idea.

Sure, they’ve encountered and invited other strays who’d reacted in similar states of distress, refusing to believe that sane, kind people still existed after the appearance of the entity. They’d lash out, hiss at Jungkook and the rest, until they reached a point in which they could calmly talk it through. People lose themselves after being in solitude for so long. Jungkook had only been alone for a little less than a month, and even then he remembers being terrified of you and the others.

But never had a stray pointed a gun at them, at you, and that’s what bothers Jungkook the most.

Part of him worries these guys aren’t the strays they claim to be, but masked members of another survivor camp here to take them over, kill them off. Realistically, they’re baseless worries. One of them is thin beyond belief, and the other had told them their whole life story the second they arrived back at the O. They don’t have that killer aura that the Magnolians have, and Jungkook wants to believe they by no means have the expertise to be specially trained assassins.

If anything, they’re just really cunning strays who happened to draw a lucky card when they got that gun.

On top of that uncertainty was the worry that stemmed from your actions both today and for the past year if he’s being honest.

He’s never questioned your motives for bringing someone back to the haven before, usually trusting in you to do what’s right. After all, Jungkook was hardly the poster boy of moral decisions, so he always left that up to you.

That being said, he feels… disappointed by your lack of logical thinking today. He understands that Yoongi and Jimin are just doing what they can to get by, something he would’ve done too if he was alone. But Jungkook isn’t as forgiving and empathetic as you, which is probably why he feels like this.

“I don’t think it was a good idea,” he admits, listening to the quiet inhale you draw in at his admission. “I get that they’re strays and all… I just think you need to be more careful.” It’s rich coming from him, probably the least cautious person at the base.

You nod, the same understanding one you’d given him on the trip back.

Jungkook knew you had a tender heart. You and Hoseok both did, hence the reason you established Oleander in the first place. Admittedly, Hoseok is even worse than you, which is the main reason he doesn’t go out on scavenging trips, choosing to keep watch over the people they already have.

Before you can reiterate your reasoning from the afternoon, Jungkook cuts you off. He catches your hand, turns it over to knot your fingers with his. “Babe, I need you to take care of yourself first,” he says, watches the befuddled expression that crosses your features.

You blink. “I do?” You defend, and it’s so weak Jungkook could cry.

He sighs, squeezes your hand in his. “You don’t,” he feels a little weird explaining the state of your thoughts to, well, you. “I get that you wanna keep everyone here safe, but what about yourself?”

You say nothing. The quiet bustling of the base outside fills the silence between you.

Jungkook looks away first, choosing to stare a hole into the tent walls before him. “I know you have this huge responsibility on you and that it’s a lot of pressure, __,” he murmurs quietly. “But it’s okay to ask for help, y’know?”

Beside him, your knees curl up into your chest, chin resting on them. You don’t let go of his hand, so he takes it as a sign to continue.

“What’s happening is scary,” he admits. “But you’re not going through this alone. I want you to tell me when things become too much for you,” he emphasizes.

The amount of times he’s seen you stretch yourself thin for this place was unreal. Jungkook liked Oleander as much as the next person, but occasionally he’d get hit with doubts. What would they do once the entity found them? Jungkook thinks he’d run. He’d take you and run far away, leaving this whole place behind. He’ll never tell you this, though, because he knew you loved Oleander too much. And if you didn’t, the responsibilities that tied you to it would never let you abandon the people like that anyway.

From between his fingers, he can feel your hand trembling.  His heart throbs painfully in his chest. Jungkook wishes he could freeze this moment in time, keep the two of you inside this tent away from the crumbling world around you. In another life, in another universe, he reminds himself.

Eventually you let out a shaky exhale, eyes burning into the side of Jungkook’s face until he returns your gaze. Ever so quietly, you murmur, “Kook, I’m so scared.”

It’s the quietness of your confession, like you’re afraid admitting as much will lessen your credibility, that has him leaning forward, forehead knocking against yours gently.

“Oh, baby,” he frowns, doesn’t say a word when you throw yourself into his arms. Your face finds its home buried in the front of his shirt, shoulders shaking. He rubs your back soothingly, the same way you do to him every time he’s riled up, listening to the quiet sniffles that escape you.

“I don’t want people to get hurt,” you cry, your voice small and muffled against the front of his shirt.

His heart falters in his chest, suddenly realizing how small you are curled up in his arms. He can’t even begin to imagine the expression on your face, one you still hide from him, but he guesses it’s nothing less than glossy eyes and puffy face.

For the second time in the past year Jungkook’s known you, he gets a peek into your frail interior. A brief glance to see the woman who had watched the world around her crumble, all alone amidst wave after wave of deaths.

The city had been a horrible sight to see, but at least there he’d been comforted by the fact he was with a group of people he’d known and escaped with. It had been the first of many instances. For you, he can’t even fathom how you managed to pull yourself from the wreckage, maintain yourself until you found Hoseok.

“I’m sorry,” you choke, voice but a thin whisper he barely catches. He brushes you off, leaning his chin on the crown of your head as he continues to rub your back.

Eventually, you calm down.

The trembling of your body slows, and your muted cries disappear. When you lean away, Jungkook keeps his hands on your shoulders. Your eyes are still coated in a thin sheen of tears, the skin around flushed. Jungkook runs a knuckle along your cheekbone, following a faint trail of tears.

You rub the heel of your hand against your eye as you regain your composure. You don’t meet his eyes, but Jungkook doesn’t push. “Thank you, Jungkook,” you tell him, sniffling one last time. “I… really needed that.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, suddenly aware of how close you are. He could lean in and kiss you, but he doesn’t want you to think he’s taking advantage of your emotions. So he doesn’t.

You pat his cheek gently. He leans into the touch, eyes flickering over your bashful expression. “You were amazing today, Kook,” you quietly praise, and he’s never felt this light before. His cheeks flush red, the warmth slowly creeping up his face at your compliment.

Something in Jungkook has him leaning forward, puckered lips pressing against your temple. It’s only when his plush lips meet the skin of your forehead that he suddenly becomes aware of his actions. He stills, tries to find the perfect moment to pull away that will still make it seem friendly.

When his brain has dipped itself into frying oil three times over, it’s you who leans back with a soft smile on your features. You pat his knee once before standing up. “Actually, I heard something interesting today,” you mention, completely ignoring the redness of his face. “Follow me?”

“Anywhere,” he murmurs as he trails after you, passing the rowdy mess hall and the occasional group wandering about the grounds. Eventually you lead him into Seokjin’s medical tent, where Namjoon seems to be interrogating the hell out of Jimin. “What’s going on?” he asks, gaining everyone’s attention, and you motion towards where Jimin is babbling away.

“There they are,” Seokjin claps, “two experiments from the same lab.”

Jungkook flicks him on the forehead as he walks in, ignoring the sharp calling of his name coming from your mouth. “Not a lab experiment,” he defends, not that Seokjin cares. He squeezes around Jin, coming to stand beside Namjoon. Jimin is very quiet in his presence, probably still reflecting on their first meeting. Good, Jungkook thinks, he could drown in his guilt for all he cares.

“This guy says he knows where the new Magnolian base is set up,” Namjoon fills him in, eyeing Jimin. Jungkook doesn’t doubt it, after all, that’s apparently where they got their weapons from. Not that anyone besides you and Jungkook know that. “You believe him?”

Jungkook shrugs. He doesn’t know what to say, because none of you really suspected anyone would ask about Jimin and Yoongi’s origins after the lame story you had made up earlier. Jimin, it seems, is more of a chatterbox than he thought.

“I’m telling you, man,” he whines. “Me and Yoongs saw the damn camp. That’s where we—“

“-Were running from,” you intercept. Jungkook rolls his eyes at your feeble attempts at keeping a secret that was inevitably going to be found out. “Jimin and Yoongi were running from there when we found them.”

Jimin nods frantically. “It’s about twenty miles from here.”

Namjoon nods along, looking deep in thought as he ponders on what exactly that means for Oleander.

Jungkook can help. Basically, it means this: Magnolia setting up a camp in close range of Oleander can only be a result of one of two things:

Either they, A, are unaware that Oleander is in close range and most likely settled due to the various water sources around this area. When they eventually find its current inhabitants, they’ll undoubtedly attack on sight.

Or B, they have caught wind of Oleander’s presence here and have promptly come to, you guessed it, kill them all off just because they can. In both scenarios, Oleander remains at great risk, and everyone in the tent knows this.

“So now what?” He says more than asks, sensing they’ve all more or less reached the same conclusion.

Your foot taps against the ground, lower lip pulled taut between your teeth as you work through a dozen plans in your head.

Namjoon, ever the “wise man”, jumps to the forefront. “We have to do something about their base,” he says.

Jungkook laughs at that, plopping down beside Jimin. “Yeah, let’s just go run up on some psychos with no moral compass and kill them before they kill us. Except, wait—“ he exclaims with a little staged gasp, before leveling Namjoon with the most bored stare he can muster. “None of us have the guts to kill someone.”

Namjoon is very obviously flustered by Jungkook’s dry jab, looking at you to defend him. Jungkook simply brushes off the disapproving frown you send him.

“And when they realize we won’t kill them, guess what, guys?” he asks no one in particular, mimes someone breaking his neck. “We’re dead.”

Silence falls over the medical tent at his blunt descriptions.

Jungkook knows he’s being annoyingly pessimistic, but he can’t help it. His first encounter with Magnolia had left him bleeding at the mouth, body aching for weeks. Occasionally, he has nightmares about that day, about what would happen if you and your friends hadn’t shown up. In most of them, Jungkook’s mind conjures up violent scenes of his death.

You suck in a sharp breath that catches everyone’s attention. Straightening your spine, you step back into the middle of the space, hands on your hips like a superhero. “As much as I hate to admit it, Jungkook is right.” He grins in satisfaction. “Even if they’re not part of our community, I’m sure having too many people congregated in the same area will draw the Thing‘s attention.” Finally, some logical thinking. “But,” you suddenly add, snatching that cocky smirk straight off his face. “That being said, I think it’s best if we look for ways to—“

“No,” he cuts off, surprising everyone in the room with his curt tone. He never outwardly disagreed with you before, always hyped up your ideas like you were the greatest person alive. You were in his eyes, but there was some plans even Jungkook thought were stupid. And given the fact this would be your second stupid plan of the day, he’s more than happy to go against you in front of the others. “It’s stupid.”

“Hey,” Seokjin chides, leveling him with a cold glare he hasn’t seen in a while. “Let her speak.”

“No,” Jungkook repeats, turning his attention back to you. You don’t look the slightest bit pleased with him, and he already knows this will lead to days of you ignoring him like the time he and some of the guys snuck down to the creek after curfew one night. “Baby, going there is reckless—you know this,” he emphasizes, can’t help the gentle way he explains this to you like you’re nothing but a child.

“You haven’t even heard my idea,” you snap angrily. It takes every nerve in Jungkook’s body to keep him from crumbling beneath your hardened gaze. He hates when you look at him like that. “You won’t even let me say what I’m thinking, but you already think it’s stupid.”

“Because it is!” he yells, startling the other men in the tent. “Someone could get seriously hurt, and you know this,” he seethes, suddenly feeling like that whole heart-to-heart moment at his tent meant nothing to you. He deflates, rubs at his temples as if to rid him of the headache pounding behind his skull. “Doll, these are the Magnolians,” he murmurs. “They won’t just threaten you with a gun like Yoongi and Jimin, they will kill you on the spot.”

There’s a shared look of surprise between Seokjin and Namjoon at the news, and Jimin shifts nervously beside him. Jungkook could care less about his slip up, too engrossed in the way your lips pinch up indignantly.

“Fine,” you sneer. “Whatever we do, I’ll make sure to leave you off the list.” And with that, you’re exiting the tent with an angry tug against the door flaps.

A beat of silence as they all stare after you in shock. Jungkook has never been left off the list of scavengers.

“Kook,” Seokjin goes to soothe him, but he's already slipping out of the tent, eyes wildly scanning over the dark perimeter of the base in search of you. He finds you stomping in the direction of your tent, a small thing pressed against the side of the armory.

The ache in his knee be damned as he sprints across the clearing, narrowly avoiding the people who are still out. He catches you just as you duck inside, tearing the flap of your tent wide open.

You jump in surprise, but quickly pull on an expression of annoyance as he towers over you, arms crossing over your chest defensively.

“What did you say?” he seethes, letting the flap fall shut behind him, shrouding the two of you in darkness.

“I said you’re off the list,” you snap without missing a beat, anger rolling off you in waves. “Since you hate my ideas so much, your ass can stay here.”

Jungkook exhales loud and hard, stepping closer to you until you’re nose to nose. “I’m not off the fucking list,” he announces, jaw twitching. You go to retort, pushing him away with a palm flat on his chest that he catches in a flash, tugging you forward until you’re stumbling into his chest. You gape in shock at the hand that tightens around your waist, Jungkook’s steely eyes aiming to pierce into your soul. “If you wanna be stupid and break into the Magnolia base that’s fine by me,” he hisses, “but don’t think for a second I’d ever let you go without me, understood?”

You struggle in his arms. “I never said I wanted that,” you snarl, pushing yourself off and away from him. “But you wouldn’t know that because you wouldn’t even listen to me.”

Jungkook’s arms tighten around your waist, refusing to let you run straight into the hands of danger. “Maybe I would listen if you weren’t always trying to off yourself,” he barks, narrowly avoiding your elbow when you begin flailing in his arms.

“Jungkook— let me go!” you huff, growing more upset the longer he holds on to you. “I don’t wanna talk to you right now.”

He ignores you.

But he greatly underestimated your strength, which ends up being a huge mistake. He had watched you toss Yoongi over your shoulder just this afternoon, so he should’ve known better than anyone about the adrenaline-fueled feats you can do when you’re riled up.

You still, deluding him into thinking you’ve calmed down enough for him to loosen his grip. It’s in that tiny moment of weakness that you strike, wrapping your arms around his waist and throwing the two of you to the side. Luckily, you’re not blinded by fury enough to destroy your own tent, and end up slamming him against the wooden wall of the armory that sits flush to one side of your tent.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, the intensity of the push having a bounce back effect. He staggers forward, arms still around your waist, until the both of you stumble into the ground in a mess of limbs. You yelp at the heavy weight of his body on you, and Jungkook only has half a mind to roll off. “Oh fuck,” he groans, rubbing the back of his head.

The way you’d surged the two of you, him backwards, into the wall had left him vastly unprepared, skull slamming painfully into the wood. That on top of the good thwack Jimin had given him earlier with the pipe had his vision spotting now.

“Jungkook?” you call, shuffling to your knees over him, all traces of anger gone as worry floods over you.”Jungkook, oh my god,” you choke, sitting him up slowly, but given the fragile state of his head it seems fast anyway. The movement makes his head spin like a carousel. He’ll definitely need to see Seokjin for this. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you’d hit your head,” you cry, fluttering around your tent for something to give him. “Here, drink this,” you intrude, thrusting a water bottle into his hand.

He takes it in one hand, rolling his head around once. “Shit, babe, calm down. I’m not dying,” he cracks, though it ends in a groan. He definitely needed to sleep this off.

His joke only makes you more upset, and you lean forward to brush his hair from his face until your beautifully bothered expression is looking down over him. “No,” you groan, “please don’t try to make me feel better. That was a horrible thing for me to do.”

You tug him to his feet, Jungkook wincing at the sudden motion. “Yeah, that was pretty shitty,” he agrees, letting you throw an arm over your shoulders as you guide him out of the tent.

In all honesty the pain had subsided the second he’d sat up. Now he was just left with a slight pounding behind his temples, like a headache on steroids, but he played soccer his whole life; he knows when an injury was serious. This just seems like a mild concussion at most.

Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to milk every second of this. He leans into your side, your arm tightening around his waist.

“You know what’s even more shitty, though?” he prompts. You hum, more concerned with getting him to the safety of his tent. The base is mostly silent now, and the forest surrounding the camp is eerily dark. All the squirrels and rabbits they see during the day have gone to sleep, the only sound being that of the occasional owl hoot. The only people Jungkook sees are the ones on night duty sporadically standing around the perimeter of Oleander. Jungkook doesn’t answer right away, lets you sit in suspense, before announcing, “leaving someone off the list.”

You groan, finally stopping inside his tent. Upon getting closer, he’s reminded of his new roommate waiting for him inside, loud snores surely keeping everyone in a twenty foot radius awake. “I’m sorry,” you frown, moving to stand in front of him. The weight of your apology feels like you’re sorry for multiple things at once. Normally he would press, but you look like you’re about to cry just from upsetting Jungkook. For some reason he gets some twisted excitement from seeing you so torn up over him.

He shakes his head, lets the hair you pushed off his forehead fall back into place. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures you, reaching up to cup the side of your face like you did to him earlier. You lean into the touch, covering his hand with your own. Jungkook’s heart swells.

How could such a pretty little thing be this reckless? he thinks, watching the lashes that tickle your skin with every blink. “Go to bed, doll,” he commands, and you nod cutely, like a bobblehead. “Be stupid again tomorrow.”

He’s rewarded with a soft kick against his shin, a tiny smile curling around your features. “Okay,” you concede, fingers tracing over his knuckles as he finally pulls away. You watch him get into his tent, stay put until he’s glancing at you through the flaps to get moving. “Goodnight, Jungkook,” you make sure to say, waving goodbye as you begin walking back in the direction you came from.

It would’ve been the perfect night, mild concussion and all, if he had been able to truly savor your expressions that day. Instead, he goes to bed with a half hard cock and a snoring bear beside him.

Copyright © July 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[iammultifandomaf]

Once a Leader, Always a Leader

FanFiction: Sweet Home

Chapter 2 - ESCAPE

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13825734/2/

She was fed up by the military. The only thing they did was boss her around. Just like he used to do.

Lee Eun-Yu immediately saddened at the thought of her brother.

I need to escape. I don't feel safe at all. I have no idea where Cha Hyun-Su is... where Eun-Hyeok is.

She knew that her chances to survive out there are low. She didn't know how to fight, let alone properly run because of her ankle. But she didn't want to survive alone. She wants to at least try.

Eun-Yu always encouraged others in a very mean way, especially Eun-Hyeok, to be active and not just sit around. However, she didn't feel that brave and despite her desire to leave, she didn't think that she'd be capable of leaving a military base. The bunch that was rescued from Green Home was kept together for some time now because they were cut off by monsters. So, they were basically stuck, hoping that the army would be able to fight them off or to get help from somewhere else.

One late evening, Eun-Yu was sitting on her bunkbed, watching Son Hye-In who was petting her dog nervously.

"What's with you?" Eun-Yu couldn't hold it for her anymore. Hye-In sent her an awful look and said angrily: "Don't you see him? He's all worked up. Something is wrong!"

"Nonsen-"

Eun-Yu was interrupted by a deafening sound of the alarm going off. It took only seconds before everything turned into chaos. Lee Joon-Woo suddenly appeared at their door with a horrified expresion on his face.

"The monsters got in! They are killing everyone, fuck. I saw one in the corridor! We gotta hide!" he hollared but the moment he finished his sentence, something grabbed him by his back and threw him on the other side of the hallway.

Hye-In's dog began to bark loudly at the threat.

"Shut him up! Jesus!" Eun-Yu snapped, "I am outta here!"

Eun-Yu rose to her feet and tried to sneak out of the room. "Wait for me!" Hye-In whispered loudly and followed the girl quickly, not wanting to be left behind.

Gun shots were echoing through the building as the two women crept throught the hallway, trying to be as silent as possible. They had to pass the now dead corpse of Lee Joon-Woo which made Hye-In give out a weak whimper.

Eun-Yu tried to look around the corner to see what's ahead but that was a grave mistake since a monster just looked that away and started charging into her direction.

Cold sweat was dripping down her forehead as she started backing away.

"What?! What's there?" Hye-In cried out as she saw Eun-Yu's frozen expression while she was walking backwards slowly.

I have no weapon. My leg won't work. I am dead.

Hye-In wanted to follow Eun-Yu in her retreat but was stopped by a sudden appearance of a large figure. It didn't look like a monster nor a human, though. Hye-In wanted to shriek out but the moment, Eun-Yu bumped into it with her back, she stayed silent.

Eun-Yu's heartbeat rose, not only because she noticed the thing's claws on her shoulder, but also because the monster from before had caught up and was now standing in front of them.

Now did Hye-In give a proper scream out of her lungs, trying to run away pass the new creature that appeared but before she was able to escape, a firm grasp on her arm pulled her next to Eun-Yu. They both were let go, though, as the newcomer walked around them and fiercly attacked the monster that had multiple arms and very capable, strong legs. Overall, the monster seemed more likely to win. The other creature didn't seem fazed by the monster's dangerous looks, though, and the only thing he did was to give out a horrendously monstrous roar that made Eun-Yu and Hye-Im cover their ears while Bom, the dog, hid behind Hye-In.

Then it just stopped and with it, everything else went quiet. Even the shooting. And the multiarmed monster was lying on the ground, almost as if it was kneeling while shaking heavily.

With that, the tall human looking creature bend over to grab the monsters neck and smashed it against the wall, creating a huge crack in it.

Eun-Yu wasn't sure what the creature had done to it, but the monster seem to shrink slowly and then just fell apart. Hye-In found Eun-Yu's hand and tightly squeezed it.

The creature in front of them didn't turn back, as if it was hesitating.

"Who the hell are you?!" Eun-Yu's attitude made its way onto the surface yet again which made Hye-In squeeze her hand even tigher and gave her a panicked look. Eun-Yu shook her off, though, and walked closer to the tall 'creature'.

"What? Why did you save us? What's your deal?!" she cried out again angrily but was taken aback by a familiar chuckle.

"I am sorry I lied," he said sadly, still not turning around. Eun-Yu's eyes burned from the tears cummulating at once. No way.

"You bastard!" she cried out and started pounding into his back which made Hye-In yell out in surprise and also fear and run to tear Eun-Yu away.

Now, he turned around, looking down at Eun-Yu with compassion, trying to touch her shoulder again but Eun-Yu shook him and Hye-In off.

"Don't you touch me! Neither or you. Fuck," she screamed at them and wiped away her tears from the cheeks.

Hye-In finally looked up and after watching his face for a bit, she understood, too: "Lee Eun-Hyeok?"

He only nodded, keeping his well-known calm face which was now decorated by silver cold irises.

"How are you like this? You don't look like-" Hye-In began but her dog's unstoppable barking interrupted her, so she picked him up and continued: "You don't look like them..."

"Yeah, I know. What about we talk some more after we're somewhere else?"

"Leave the army?" Hye-In wondered.

"You can stay, if you want. But I can protect you better as it seems. And I also want to find Cha Hyun-Su in the meantime."

Eun-Yu raised her head at Cha Hyun-Su's mention and swallowed her tears. "You want to find him?"

His eyes landed on his sister as he nodded: "Of course, he always helped us out. He has to feel lonely now. I don't want that for him."

"Uhuh. The children are here somewhere...," Eun-Yu said, "Yoon Ji-Su probably, too..."

"What about Seo Yi-Kyung?" Eun-Hyeok asked as he was looking around.

"She stayed outside. She didn't come with us here," Hye-In informed him, receiving a small nod from him.

"Alright, let's go when the monsters are still tamed," he said and started walking away from them. The two women hurried to catch up.

"How did you do it? Tame them?" Hye-In wondered.

"Hm, it's just a thing I can do. Don't ask me why."

They walked along the hallway when suddenly Eun-Hyeok stopped.

"What?" Eun-Yu asked angrily as she almost bumped into him again.

"I think they are here somewhere," Eun-Hyeok said quietly and looked right to the damaged cabinet standing on the floor.

"Su-Yeong? Yeong-Su? Are you in there?" he bend himself down and almost wanted to open the cabinet, however the sight of his own fingers stopped him and turned back to his sister.

"Could you? I don't want to frighten them," he said quietly and stepped back.

Eun-Yu gave him a long look, finally taking in everything that was different. Somehow not wearing his glasses made him seem even more emotionally distanced than before. And I thought it's the glasses. His features in the face didn't change that much, not at least in comparison to his body which was just generally bigger and then of course, the clawed hands were something of an eyecatcher.

And when talking about an eye, his silvery eyes kept staring at her patiently which made her nervous a bit.

The cabinet door opened itself, though, and a small head popped out.

"Eun-Yu?" Su-Yeong said in a weak voice, holding onto her younger brother whose eyes were swollen up.

Eun-Yu sat down on her haunches and smiled at the children. "We're here to take you somewhere safe, okay? You remember my brother, right?" she gestured to her left.

"What happened to Oppa?" Su-Yeong asked carefully.

"Nothing much, just a change of style, come on out."

The children slowly got out of the cabinet and looked around.

"Where is Ji-Su? She told us to hide and then run away," Yeong-Su asked.

"We should look for her," Eun-Hyeok said and looked down at the kids.

"Hey," he said and lowered himself to be at the same height level as them, "I know I look a bit weird now but you'll forgive me that, right?"

The siblings looked at each other and the older sister nodded.

"Great, thank you. And just for moving faster, would you mind if I carried you so we can find Ji-Su as soon as possible?"

Yeong-Su replied with stretching out his arms towards Eun-Hyeok which made him smile.

"I am sorry, I got myself these ugly fingers, I hope it's alright," he said, his voice cracking a bit as he lifted the children, one locked in each arm.

Eun-Yun watched her brother how he carefully held the children so he wouldn't harm them with his claws and quickly looked to the side, trying to hide her glassy eyes. He went through such a change alone.

They walked around for a while, encountering a few monsters that have crouched away when Eun-Hyeok walked passed them. Both and Eun-Yun and Hye-In watched the monsters' reactions in awe.

"If he only turned earlier," Hye-In commented, remembering the lives they have lost. Eun-Hyeok stopped and turned around and looked straight at Hye-In, visibly sighing. He understood, him losing his humanity could've saved many lives. But it's too late to fix it.

Hye-In interpreted his reaction negatively and rose her hand in defense: "I didn't mean to off-"

"No, you are right, it's fine," he interrupted her and nodded to the metalic door in front of them, "I think she's in there."

"How do you know?" his sister asked suspiciously.

"Well, with those pretty eyes came also upgraded ears and my nose picks up specific smells, too. And I smell puss."

"Ew," Eun-Yu furrowed her brows at Eun-Hyeok who gave her an innocent smile in return.

"Kids, you stay here," he said and lowered himself so he could put them down.

"What are you going to do?" Su-Yeong asked anxiously.

"I'll go get her," he answered and smiled at them. His sister was faster, though, and was already trying to open the door.

"It's locked," she said angrily.

"Eun-Yu," her brother said calmly, "you shouldn't be this rash. She's not alone in there, the soldiers are with her. If you opened the door, they could've had killed you."

"Why would they shoot me, I am not a monster!" she said but immediately regreted her words. He is a monster now, too.

"Yeah, I know. But they are afriad. They won't probably act reasonably," he said and laid his hand on the door.

"We are here in peace, we just want to take Ji-Su. Are you there, Ji-Su? It's me, Eun-Hyeok," he said loudly and turned his ear to the door, waiting for a response.

"Why aren't they answering?" Hye-In asked nervously. Eun-Hyeok turned to her and shrugged. "They all seem to be tense."

"Alright, I'm going in, so please, save yourself the bullets," Eun-Hyeok informed them and looked at his sister, "you all go away from the door. They'll definitely be shooting."

"No, don't go! They'll kill you!" Yeong-Su ran to his calf and hugged it.

"Don't worry, I'll make it. And I'll bring Ji-Su, too."

Eun-Yu started at her brother who gently pushed the boy away from him and then continued to the metalic door. He slid his hand on it up and down, as if trying out the material and in a swift movement of his hand, he made its way through it. The shooting, of course, began as soon as he dug his sharp claws through it and the bullet shower continued as he ripped the door out of the frame, using it now as a shield against the bullets.

Eun-Hyeok didn't bother to say anything. He knew what the fear could do and he also knew how he had to look like to them. He focused only on the smell now - the heavy smell of puss.

How could've they leave it like that? She has to have it infected for days.

He located her promptly and looked to his right. They were holding her, covering her mouth so she couldn't have yelled out when he first tried to talk to her. With a few unnaturally fast and strong jumps, he was standing in front of the two soldiers who have been holding her down, not minding the wound they were opening with it.

"I'll be taking her off of your hands now," Eun-Hyeok said as politely as he could but still was hit by multiple bullets in his back. He couldn't help himself but to let out an animalistic grunt that made everyone feel more uneasy.

"Ji-Su," he said softly as she watched him with teary eyes, "God, look guys, I really-" a headshot stopped him from talking. He fell forward onto his door-shield, swearing: "Fuck," as he spit out the bullet that came into his head from behind.

Ji-Su started jerking around with her body, making it harder for the soliders to hold her down.

"Okay, okay," Eun-Hyeok rose to his feet again and grabbed each soilder by their arm, throwing them aside as if they were teddy-bears. Quickly, he pushed his hands beneath Ji-Su and lifted her up as she watched him in silence but her eyes were asking all the questions for her.

"Yeah, I know," he said and pulled her closer to his chest as he prepared to jump his way out of this storage room. A few bullets hit his back but otherwise nothing serious.

He met his sister's eyes who couldn't hide her worrisome look.

"We should probably head out," he said and balanced Ji-Su on his right arm as he dug his claws into a tall metalic cabinet, throwing it in front of the door frame.

"Could you carry the boy?" he turned to his sister who was still staring at the cabinet that he threw with ease at the door frame. She only nodded and automatically picked Yeong-Su.

They all headed to the garages where they found a big black van into which they all climbed in after Hye-In found the keys in a cupboard in a CCTV room.

Eun-Hyeok laid Ji-Su in the back and uncovered her wound. "Don't they have here some medicine? Or alcohol at least?" he asked.

"They told us that they have almost nothing left," Ji-Su said weakly.

"Yeah, we were supposed to be here only temporary. But the monsters were all around, we couldn't get out safely," Hye-Inn explained.

"Hm, I will have to get something for this later, then. Could you drive?" he asked the woman who was still holding tightly onto the dog.

"Me?" she said in shock, "why me?"

"Well, my sister is probably worse at driving than me, Ji-Su isn't feeling the best... and as you said before, there's a lot of monsters out there. I should be on the outside, taking care of them."

"Can't you just do the creepy scream?" Eun-Yu asked.

"That's what I am planning. But it won't reach that far. I'd have to scream all the way."

"Why don't you?"

"Try screaming for 5 minutes yourself, Eun-Yu," he said and stepped out of the car, about to close the door.

Eun-Yu quickly grabbed his wrist, looking up into his eyes. "Are you sure you can fight them alone?"

He smiled at her and put his other hand on hers. "I have to try, you guys can't fight them."

She looked away but didn't let go of his wrist.

"Please, don't leave like last time. Be creepy as you want. Just don't leave," she said quietly, surprising Eun-Hyeok with her honesty and nodded.

"I'll do everything to survive. As I did until now," he said, slipping out of her grip and closing the door. He opened the garage door. It was suspiciously quiet. He looked back at the car and sent them a smile, heading out first.

[seizethecarpe]

Hunting Me, Hunting You || Dave and Rio

Timing: Current @3starsquinn​ @seizethecarpe​ Summary: Dave and Rio meet in the woods for some fun bonding activities Warnings: Some medical blood

Dave collapsed against a nearby tree, gasping with exhaustion. His legs and arms had a few nasty scratches on them, but considering the other guy… Dave wiped at his mouth, trying to clear some of the thick taste of blood from his lips. Instead, all he managed to do was smear it even further, and there was nothing to be done about the blood that had spilled right down his neck. It was his own goddamn fault, Dave thought, if he’d had his rifle with him, would have been a whole less of a problem. Seeing as this town seemed to draw the worst of all sorts of critters, he shoulda been more prepared. Rubbing at the scratch marks, he stared at the cockatrice he’d just torn the head off of with mild shock. Sure wasn’t what he’d had planned for tonight. 

Orion had heard the skirmish, but almost stopped heading towards it when he smelled the blood. He froze, unsure how far away the fight had been, but sure that wherever he was going it could be dangerous. The smell made Rio dizzy, a sickening feeling settling into his stomach. But he had to shake off that fear. Someone could be hurt, or worse. He ducked around trees, smacking his arms off of branches as he tried to weave between the foliage and follow the smell of blood. He finally broke out into a clearing and spotted a man, on the ground against a tree with a familiar creature’s body lying beside it. The cockatrice was a relatively new species that Rio had learned about, but he certainly hadn’t expected to see one lying against the ground beheaded. “Hey uh… are you okay?” Rio approached the man with caution, making sure to hold his hands up so he knew he wasn’t a threat while also trying to maintain a good difference in case the man himself was a danger. Once he got a better look he realized that the blood pooling off of his face and neck had come from his mouth, more specifically the sharp, jagged teeth of a selkie. Woah. “Hey there. Are you okay?” Rio asked again, but this time signed as he spoke, “Do you need me to call someone?” He didn’t know for sure if the man would understand ASL like Skylar did, but he thought it was worth a try. 

There was a piece of cockatrice skin stuck in his back teeth. Dave tongued at it until he could get it out, and spat it out right before he caught sight of the man approaching. For dangerous, haunted woods, there sure were a lot of people walking off the beaten path. Didn’t they know there were bears and screaming moose all over the place, according to the news? Dave stood back up rapidly even though the guy had his hands raised, but that didn’t seem to mean all that much in this town. He shut his mouth, hiding the teeth, but hadn’t caught the first thing Orion had said, so he had no idea what exactly was going on. Dave narrowed his eyes as Rio spoke again, this time following it with sign language. “Don’t call anyone,” he signed back without speaking. “How’d you know I was hard of hearing?”

Figures that the man wouldn’t want Orion to call an ambulance or anything. That seemed to be pretty common here in town, Rio himself included. There were plenty of injuries that Rio had sustained that he should have gone to the hospital for, but refused to. The longer Rio looked at the man, the more injuries he could pick out. The man had quite the battle it seemed, and Rio was worried that the man was in worse shape than he was willing to admit to a stranger. “Okay. I won’t call anyone. But can I come closer? To help?” Rio signed again, hands still raised in the air. How did he explain that he had a feeling the man would be hard at hearing and may know sign language? The easiest option would be to feign ignorance and pretend it was just a lucky guess. But something told him that the man was smarter than that. Instead, Rio decided for the truth. Or at least one facet of the truth. Rio pointed at his own mouth and opened wide to show off his teeth, “I know a couple of people. They are uh- they have teeth like yours.” Rio signed, hoping that told the man what he needed to know. “My name is Rio. Can I help you?” 

So he had seen Dave’s teeth and really recognised them. Sometimes, people tended to gloss right on over them even if they did see it. Same with his shadow. It just was the kind of thing ignorant eyes tended to skate over. Guess the blood drew a whole lot more attention to it. And the dead cockatrice, couldn’t forget about that. Rio didn’t seem uneasy about that, either. He clearly knew more than the average Joe, so after a long moment, Dave nodded. “Not too bad,” he signed, gesturing at the scratches on his arms and legs. They matched the already intense scarring on his limbs all the same. “Dave,” he replied, first by giving his name sign, then spelling out his english one to boot. “It just jumped outta nowhere, all aggressive like. Not a clue why.”

It was a little scary, seeing how much damage those teeth could do. It wasn’t something that Orion had thought much about before. Ricky could fight if needed, but tended to be pretty easy going. And Skylar was one of the nicest, most docile people that Rio knew. Neither had made him consider just how dangerous a selkie could be. Though Rio hardly had room to judge considering his own genetics. “They look pretty painful though.” Along with the blood and wounds, Rio could pick out a myriad of scars and cuts along the man’s body. He had no idea where they came from, but he knew they seemed remarkably similar to the ones hidden beneath Rio’s hoodie and pants. Thinking about them made Rio scratch at his arms reflexively. “I’m familiar with those things.” Rio signed and pointed at the cockatrice. The smell of blood coming from it was intense, and Rio used the sleeve of his shirt to try to block the scent. It only barely worked since he also had to use that hand to sign. “I mean, I’ve never run into one. But I’ve read about them before.” Rio risked taking a few steps forward. The man could be dangerous. The beheaded creature lying next to him was proof enough. But despite this, Rio believed him that he had done it in self defense. So Rio wasn’t scared, even though he maybe should have been. As long as this man didn’t have a deep hatred for hunters and as long as Rio didn’t out himself, all should be good, right? Rio crept closer again, leaning down on the ground in front of the man and sliding the book bag off of his back. “I probably have some wipes in here that we can use to try to clean some of the blood and dirt off. Are you okay with that?”

“Skin like leather, it ain’t too bad,” Dave signed back with a dismissive wave of his hands. Stung like hell and salt water, but it was the sort of pain he was getting more and more often these days. Every hunt was beginning to end with injuries. More and more, ones he couldn’t so easily shrug off. It wasn’t too bad in the water, where he was faster than most of the things around, and smarter. He wasn’t that much faster than anyone on land, and that was where his joints were beginning to give out. “I’ve seen them once before. A big one, nearly as big as a cow. Had killed half the farmer’s family before they got a hunter out for it. Think I got lucky with that one, barely the size of a fox.” He shifted, rolling up his shorts and then his sleeves as permission for Rio to treat him, although he was still watching the guy closely. He just looked like a normal, lanky kid, but that didn’t mean much at all. Looks could be all sorts of deceiving. He had his own shit for cleaning things up in the car, but he wasn’t about to say no to help, nor a friendly face. “So how come you know about selkies and cockatrices?” He asked curiously. 

The story was a scary one, and an eye opener. The book that Orion had read that mentioned the beast hadn’t mentioned them getting that big. It made Rio’s eyes grow wide thinking about. A family taken out by something like that, when they had seemingly not done anything to provoke it. Another case that someone like Adam or Alain would have taken with no reservation. A creature that should have been stopped. There were more and more of those cases popping up in Rio’s life recently. Could Rio have taken the cockatrice’s life by himself, without the likes of Kaden or Alain there to watch over him? “It might sting” Rio signed, not bothering to speak this time. He had never really spent time on the other side of the battle wounds. He was always the one that someone was helping bandage, or trying to clean his own wounds. Being on the outside felt like a sort of out of body experience, like it should have been Rio in the place that Dave was in right now. He started by trying to focus on the bloodiest parts, wiping them clean so he could get a better look at the wound itself. Luckily, like Dave said, they didn’t seem too bad. All the blood must have mostly come from the cockatrice. Orion held his hands up to answer Dave’s question but hesitated for a long moment before actually signing. He hated this part. Trying to explain how he knew what he knew. Having to pick between his lies. Because admitting the truth was so much worse. But now, Rio had a new answer that he hadn’t gotten the chance to use much before. “I’m..” He started but waved his hands away after deciding to restart the sentence, “It’s hard to explain. Have you ever heard of the Scribes?”

Dave nodding, gritting his sharp teeth as Rio moved over. He usually did this shit himself, unless he’d been hunting with someone else and they had to clean up each other. Most people tended to think that his injuries were worse than they were, on account of how goddamn much he bled relative to the average human, how much more blood he had in him. He hissed as Orion wiped away the blood, cleaning him up bit by bit. What was worrying was the way he paused at Dave’s question. Like he was preparing to hide something or lie about something. Not that he didn’t get the need for secrecy,  but jesus, he was bleeding and exposed in front of this kid, was it really that bad to ask for equivalent exchange. “Yeah, but they’re basically extinct nowadays. You’re a little young to have been one, considering they all but vanished fifty years ago.” He signed, and narrowed his eyes a little. “Might as well spit it out. Ain’t about to judge you.”

The man, Dave, yelped as Orion wiped at the blood and each time it made Rio practically jump out of his skin. “Sorry- Sorry. I’m not used to doing this. Especially to someone else.” He hoped this was helping more than it was causing pain, but the amount of blood was definitely concerning. “Right. Of course.” Dave was familiar with the scribes, which Rio couldn’t decide if that surprised him or not. It was hard to determine. On one hand, it had been mostly kept secret back in the day from people that were not knowledgeable of the supernatural. On the other hand, Rio wasn’t alive back then. He had no idea what the circumstances were like for those that did know about the supernatural. Had the Scribes had some lowkey way to advertise themselves? Maybe if Rio knew this man better he would ask. For now, Rio needed to decide how much of the truth he wanted to share. Having his throat torn out for being a hunter wasn’t at the top of his to do list today. “My uncle was one. Back in the day. Sort of.” Rio sighed before continuing to sign, “He tried to be at least. He joined more towards the end. He was always obsessed with the idea of bringing them back.” Obviously, that hadn’t worked out. Unless wherever he disappeared to was currently thriving from supernatural knowledge. For all Rio knew, he could have his own Scribrary now. “He showed me some stuff as a kid. So I try to learn what I can. Help out if possible.” 

"I can do it myself just fine if you ain't comfortable, kid." Dave replied, although it was concerning the way he said he was more used to doing it for himself than others. Especially for a scribe. Maybe if you grew up in a town like this you just got used to being hurt. But hell, the kid was young, right? Surely he couldn't have that much experience unless he was real unlucky, or he was looking for trouble. Which, considering that he called himself a scribe, might have been the case. "But it hurts because I got attacked by a clawed little fucker, not because of you cleaning it." Dave shifted, the harsh crackled barrel of the tree pressing hard against his back, scratching at his skin. I'm the brown of the foliage he caught sight of something moving, a small millipede creeping over and under the dead leaves. It wasn't easy to see when all the colours looked so similar, but that was why Dave kept his eyes focused on it as Rio cleaned, until the kid raised his hands to speak again. "From what I remember, it was always considered a tight line for Scribes. Folks didn't want to share and the scribes had to be really careful about what they knew and told others too. It came apart for a reason. Why do you want to bring it back?"

“It’s okay. You’ve been through enough. Clearly.” Orion gestured at the various wounds. Even if Rio wasn’t comfortable doing this, he needed to be. This was what it meant to help people, right? He would have to do things that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. As far as that possibility went, Rio supposed that trying to clean and dress some wounds was along the more tame of those fears. Even if the smell of blood and the look of wounds were sometimes enough to make Rio dizzy and nauseous. “You’re right. From what I’ve read, at least. They seemed a bit narrow minded.” Rio didn’t know how to describe it any kinder than that. As far as he was concerned, the Scribes' refusal to move forward and think more progressively led to their downfall. But without having actually been there, Rio couldn’t say for sure if that was the nail in the coffin for them. “I want things to be different. I want to help people without being as outdated or… neutral. I don’t want to just keep the knowledge I want to actually use it to help.” Rio realized how idealistic it was even as he said it. “I guess it sounds crazy, huh? I’m just some kid. Restarting a fallen organization seems a bit far fetched.” Rio finished wiping the blood from the man and moved onto wounds themselves. He started to bandage what he could, careful to do it without hurting the man if possible. “Now that the blood has been cleaned up a bit, it doesn’t look as bad as I thought it might be. Can you walk, after this? If we can get to my car I can drive you anywhere you need to go.”

"Hmmm," Dave replied shortly. He’d never been the type to sidestep the difficult stuff, and this kid, no matter how well intentioned, wasn’t going to find his endeavour as easy as he probably thought. Never mind the lack of knowledge and wisdom thing, that just had to come with time. So he asked the difficult question, and weighed his expectations entirely against Rio’s answer. Hell, it wasn’t like he didn’t in theory have need for a Scribe. He needed to hunt down a fury, and he still couldn’t really understand what they hell they were. “But how do you choose the right person to help? How would you know who the right person to help is?” He shrugged off Rio’s concerns about his injuries. “Yeah, I can walk. My van is just a quarter of a mile away. It ain’t too bad, I just sat down because my stamina ain’t what it used to be. ‘Specially not on land.” He pressed his hand against the bark and hefted himself up into standing, some more blood spilling out of his scrapes, but he’d scab over soon enough. “C’mon, scribeling.”

 It was a decent question. Orion liked to hope that in the moment, he would be able to judge that for himself. That he could determine whether or not someone was the right person or not. But it wasn’t entirely lost on him that he tended to be a bit over trusting when it came to anybody without the surname Quinn. It was a quality that he knew needed fixing, but he still clung desperately onto. At the end of the day, that desire to make friends with and understand new people were all Rio felt like he had to offer. If he lost his ability to trust, what did Rio even have left? Still, he wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt if he found out that he helped someone kill an innocent person. “I don’t know, honestly.” Rio finally answered, the silence that lingered between them as he thought, making him too restless, “I don’t want to give out the wrong information to the wrong person.” By that, Rio knew he meant hunters. He wondered how Dave felt about hunters. Was it a given that all supernatural creatures hated them? Rio would understand why. “Maybe I need to develop some vetting process. Make them answer a bunch of questions before I decide if I should help or not.” It wasn’t exactly altruistic, but Rio had no interest in help any random person that wandered by with a supernatural problem. His end goal was to help educate and find some sort of balance or safe zone. Helping a hunter trying to neutralize a werewolf or fae meant nothing to him. The man forced himself up, the movement causing the bleeding to start again. Or speed up at least, Rio wasn’t convinced it had stopped at all. “Scribeling. I like that.” Rio chuckled at the name. He bet Winston would like it too. “Well I’ll just help you get to your van then. Make sure there’s not another one of those things roaming around. I think you’ve lost enough blood for the night.”

 “Alright.” Dave didn’t point out that the kid looked skinny and sorta on the short side, that if something else did jump out then it would be Dave doing the hard work, not the little human scribe who had experience bandaging himself up more than other folks. He took a step carefully, testing how stable he was on his legs before starting to walk in earnest, taking liberal advantage of being able lean on trees as he passed each one. “So, Rio, do you know- Hold up.” Dave said, shutting off his brief attempt at conversing as he gripped the bark of a tree.  Ever so faintly, it rumbled, with each step through the ground. If it hadn’t rained so recently, it would have been harder to tell, but damn, he could feel it. “Something’s coming. Get back, kid.”

Orion watched carefully as Dave stumbled through the forest. He didn’t stay upright so much as he teetered between trees. Rio wanted to let the man cross the distance himself considering he seemed to be pretty independent, but he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t follow closely behind, ready at any moment to try to jump forward to catch the man from falling. As it was, Dave seemed to be managing fairly well on his own, all things considered. The man began asking Rio a question, but cut off mid sentence. Rio paused, hovering closely to the man. Did he need a minute to catch his breath? But of course things couldn’t be as simple as that. Somehow, Dave knew that danger was on its way. The sudden panic made Rio’s own senses perk up. “We should run, then.” Rio suggested, studying the man’s condition. “You’re already hurt enough, right?”

“You should run. I ain’t got a clue which way it’s comin’ from, but I think I got a better chance with this thing than a newfound Scribe. I’ll be safer too, if I ain’t looking to keep the both of us alive. Now.” Dave growled. If he took his hand from the tree, he wouldn’t feel the reverberations of it coming anymore, and it still wasn’t close enough for him to hear, although if it was as close as it felt maybe Rio would be able to hear it soon. He wouldn’t need the tree roots deep in the ground resonating with steps in the soil to tell them that now. Bipedal, possibly something like a tail or pray being dragged along behind it. Please, not another fucking cockamabob. “Now!”

“What? No way. You’re joking right??” Orion asked the man incredulously, staring at him as if he had gone completely insane. He had read about Selkies a lot since befriending Skylar and Ricky. He knew that the amount of blood wasn’t necessarily indicative of the seriousness of the wounds. Selkies just had more blood than humans did. But the extent of the injury didn’t matter. What did matter was that this man would be in serious trouble trying to fight something off on his own. “You’re already hurt. You could die!” Rio was glancing around trying to figure out where the creature was coming from, but his stupid senses weren’t helping right now. “You don’t have to worry about keeping me alive. Seriously.” Rio had no weapons on him. He hated carrying them in the first place. Although he was trying to assure the man that he could take care of himself, Rio had no interest in fighting or wounding anything. But right now he wasn’t sure how much of a choice he would have. He glanced around, hoping to find a big enough rock or something that he might be able to use as a weapon, but nothing immediately stuck out. Eventually, he decided he would have to settle for something a bit less conventional. He grabbed at a large branch towards the bottom of the tree and yanked, cracking in easily and ripping it from the tree. He broke off the extra twigs and leaves attached to it and tried to wield the thing like a club, glancing nervously over at Dave and lifting a hand to sign, “You sure we can’t just run?”

“Like hell I don’t,” Dave replied sharply. They were close now. Where the fuck were they? The bushy undergrowth was hiding whatever it was, and he couldn’t feel enough with the damp soil and complete absence of rain. He was trying to keep quiet, just in case they hadn’t been heard up until right then, but there was little hope in that. Less, when Rio snapped the branch, but Dave pulled out his hunting knife, better prepared this time. It would have been a real good fucking idea to have his net and trident, but tough shit. “I’m sure. This ain’t my first rodeo.” There wasn’t much more to say beyond that, and there wasn’t much time to say anything more at all. Dave grabbed Rio and yanked him to his side just as two more cockatrices leapt out from between the trees, as big as the one he’d just killed. Possibly from the samy brood as this one. Considering how beat up he was, and that he had some human kid at his side, Dave didn’t like his odds. Without waiting a second longer, he feinted hard left, looking to their attention. 

Orion knew this wasn’t a good idea, he just wasn’t exactly sure why yet. Staying in general was a mistake, but Rio wasn’t sure whether he was going to be more of a burden in this fight. The thought of fighting back against the threat made him think of the troll. His arm began shaking while holding the branch and he felt glued to the spot he was in. But this was different, right? The creatures that were attacking were more like spawns. They knew only instincts. If it came to life or death, Rio knew who he needed to protect. Who to fight for. The cockatrices were fast, Rio’s hunter reflexes kicking in as he leapt away from the spot he had been in. Unfortunately, the reflexes didn’t do much for Rio’s balance. He had jumped away from the creature and right into a tree, crashing against it and stealing the breath from Rio’s lungs. He righted himself as quickly as he could, quickly looking around to find Dave. He definitely knew how to fight. Rio needed to make sure to not get in his way while also making sure to keep him safe. Both seemed easier said than done. “Decapitation,” Rio called out, hating the words as he said it, “that’s the easiest way to kill them!”

Great, he’d just get right on that then. Wasn’t exactly easy to decapitate anything fast with just teeth, as Dave’d learned on the first go around. Even as he feinted, he drew both their attentions, and one pounced before he’d even finished moving. Dave threw himself to the ground as it flew right over him, and scrambled back to his feet. Not nearly damn spry enough for this anymore. Didn’t make a difference that both of them were sized like rottweilers, because now there were two of them. He jumped on the one that had just leapt over him, crushing it to the ground as he tore his teeth through the wing closest to his mouth. The beast squawked, twisting and scraping him up as it wriggled out from under him, aiming a bite right at his throat. He threw leaves and forest debris in its face to avoid the deadly teeth, and got back on his feet just for the other to knock him down. “Get OUT of here!” He bellowed at Rio, although he wouldn’t lie, a hand, or even just a distraction wouldn’t be a bad thing right now.

It came down to a decision, as it usually did. Orion had options. Run away like Dave had told him to multiple times already. Try to distract the creatures and by Dave some time. Or try to attack them himself. None of the three were ideal. All three had risks. There was no clear answer, nothing that guaranteed success or a happy ending. So why did Rio have to make this decision when he was so freaking bad at making them? It was enough to make him feel nauseous, but only because it was obvious that Rio knew what the right choice was. He just didn’t want to do it. Not after how the troll had made him feel. Ignoring the sinking pit in his stomach that threatened to root him to the spot he was standing in, Rio pushed himself to move forward and raced up behind one of the cockatrice. He grabbed the thing by it’s tail while it was focused on going after Dave and yanked with as much strength as he could muster. The creature was pulled backwards, lifted off of the ground as Rio chucked it across the opening, its body slamming against a tree and collapsing against the ground. Not dead by anyways, but stunned enough for the moment to even the playing field. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to help.” Rio reassured Dave and stood his ground, just as Adam had been teaching him. The easy part was over. Now he had to figure out if he had what it took to kill the thing.

Dave didn’t question the second weight was lifted from his back and hurled away from him. He pushed himself back onto his feet, wishing they were near a water way. He glanced at Rio just long enough to orientate himself as to where his partner and his foes was. For a scribe, the kid packed a punch, and he stood in a trained stance, preparing himself. But Dave couldn’t shake fear he’d seen in Rio before. Problem with fighting without weapons was that he had to get damn close. Fortunately these things did too. When the first one, called Combsy, Dave decided, on behalf of its bright orange cockerel comb, lunged, this time he jerked right and stomped on its leg until the feather thin bones snapped. One wing down and one leg down, it was a fuck ton less of a threat. Dave hopped back as it lunged for his leg, before it squawked in pain, struggling to keep moving. “Can you deal with this one?” He asked Rio. Combsy wasn’t completely out for the count, but the other was shaking its serpentine neck and coming in for a second taste. 

Could Orion deal with that one? It seemed like a simple enough question from Dave, but not one that Rio felt like he could answer convincingly. “Uh- sure” Rio answered, hoping that he was right. It would have been embarrassing if Dave had to save Rio from this thing after assuring him that he could handle it. It would be even more embarrassing if Rio died to the thing. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, the cockatrice had no problem distinguishing which one Rio was and was nice enough to circle around Rio, ready to pounce at any moment. Rio found himself spinning around, trying to follow its movements but doing little more than dizzying himself. This thing was fast. Rio had the reflexes of a hunter but wasn’t exactly reliable enough to have the coordination of one. Once the thing pounced, Rio wasn’t sure that he would be able to dodge it for long. His only chance was to incapacitate the thing before it did too much damage. He shrugged his denim jacket off, wrapping one of the sleeves around his wrist to fasten it and then spreading out his stance to keep himself stable. Then he waited, until the beast’s movements slowed and Rio realized that he was jumping. He shifted as quickly as he could, raising his arms up as a shield and crying out when the beast bit down into his arm. There was a crushing pressure, but Rio didn’t feel into digging into his skin. One stroke of luck, the thing didn’t seem to have sharp enough fangs to get through the hoodie and denim jacket. Rio worked as quickly as he could, looping the rest of the denim jacket around the creature’s head and pulling it tightly. He tied the sleeves together and double knotted them, only letting go once he was sure the creature could no longer open it’s mouth. It lunged away from him, jumping up and down and rearing its head back and forth as it tried to get the jacket off. Rio took the distraction as an opportunity and found the same stick he had grabbed before and used it to smack against the creature, hoping that he could hit it enough to force it into unconsciousness. 

Unconvinced but satisfied with Rio’s answer, Dave turned his attention back to the cockatrice he’d been fighting, waiting for it to dart forward so he could lunge too, crushing it under his weight. Dave trapped the cockatrice under his body, one knee over each wing. Its broken hollow bones poked into his calf as it screeched worse than any human he’d ever heard. Damn thing wasn’t right, nor wrong, it didn’t deserve to die at all, let alone in pain. Its death was functional, so Dave twisted its neck fast until the crack of its bones echoed off the trees like a gunshot. That wasn’t enough to kill it, but it stopped squirming and screaming, and it made this last part easier. His teeth tore through scales and ligament and bone, until with a horrifying squelch it separated, spewing blood all over his face. The head dropped to the ground, and the body with it. “How you doing, kid?” 

 The monster hadn’t stopped moving, but it had definitely slowed. Orion was pretty sure he had managed to damage its wing. It was on the ground now, hopelessly pawing at the jean jacket wrapped around it’s head. The pointed edge of the large stick Rio had broken from the tree stabbed against the ground, and Rio was very aware how easy it would be to impale the creature and end everything. But everytime he went to lift the stick all he could think about was the troll and the way it had cried out when Rio had taken its life. The familiar loud buzzing noise started ringing in Rio’s ear. It was a familiar sound that took over whenever he became too stressed. The sound only cut out when Dave spoke from behind him. Rio jumped at the sudden words and spun around, glancing between the man and the creature with eyes all too close to bursting into tears. “I can’t do it.” Rio said solemnly, “I hurt him and I don’t- I don’t think I can do it.”

“Right, uh, turn away, kid.” Dave reached past Rio and yanked the branch out of the ground, looked down at the pointed end before nodding to himself that he was convinced it was shapr enough. His arm groaned in protest as he hefted the branch up and stepped down hard on the cockatrice’s wing, pinning it in place. It squawked and shrieked as it struggled against him, clawing up his ankle, but it dropped like a marionette with cut strings when Dave drove the branch through its heart. He watched its last, convulsing breaths, and then its shudder, and then it was over. Dave winced as he turned around, taking in the tear tracks on Rio’s face. “You’re alright, scribeling. It’s over now. I would have been mince meat out here if you hadn’t stepped in. Are you hurt?”

What an embarrassment. Orion was supposed to be the one saving Dave, not the other way around. He had come across an injured man in the woods and yet still somehow ended up being the one in peril. “I’m sorry.” Rio crossed his arms in defeat and stared at the ground as Dave grabbed the stick and moved towards the creature. When the creature started screaming, Rio tried to cover his ears. It didn’t stop him hearing, but it blocked out some of the noise. Dave was trying to comfort Rio, make him feel better. They were kind words, but not ones that Rio could accept at the moment. He wiped at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie and straightened back up. “I’m fine. Just a few scratches. I’m really sorry though. I wanted to get you out of here without any more damage. Guess I kinda failed on that mark.”

“Why’re you apologising?” Dave asked, rubbing his eyes. The cuts along his body stung in the cold air, but these sortsa things happened. He looked at the two dead cockatrices, wondering if they all had hatched from the same nest. Wondered if there was more of them coming. He put his hand against another tree, and didn’t feel anything else nearby, but without fog nor rain, it wasn’t that easy. “Hey, hey, c’mon now. You’re shaken up, I get it, but you didn’t control them things. You can’t blame yourself for us getting jumped. We’re alive, that isn’t failing. It’s the opposite.” He pat Orion gruffly on his back, and began walking haltingly them back out of the woods, holding his side where he’d been scratched up. “You’re alright, kid.” Strong as hell too, but Dave didn’t comment on that just yet.

“Sorry. It’s- I don’t know.” Orion rarely had a good reason to apologize. He seemed to be apologetic towards everything. Like being in his presence was inherently a burden. He knew that wasn’t true anymore. He had been around enough kindness and love now to know that he wasn’t uselessly taking up space. Still, the habit was hard to break. “I was supposed to help you. I ended up needing your help.” Rio tried to rationalize his mood, explain the thought process to Dave. Now didn’t seem like a great time. When Dave patted Rio on the back, a small grin began growing across the boy’s face. “Yeah. Sorry. You’re right.” Rio made a quick attempt to pull himself together, slowly walking over to the dead creature and unwrapping his denim jacket from its knotted position around the creature’s head. Probably a goner, but he didn’t want to just leave it tied around the poor creature. “Thank you. For helping. You’re pretty cool too.” Never one to know how to express his emotions normally, Rio opted for a thumbs up to distract from his blushing. “Are you good to walk. You can lean against me while we get you back out of the woods.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong in needing help. I just did.” Dave replied wrily, shaking his head. “Cool, huh?” Dave scoffed with a chuckle, even more tickled by the thumbs up. He took hold of Rio’s arm. “Let’s call this just in case,” he said with a wry smile, slowly walking them out of the woods. He wanted to know more about this strangely strong and strangely innocent Scribling, but covered in blood and in need of sleep was not the best time to ask. “We’re near my van. You good to get yourself home or do you need a ride?”

The walk to his van wasn’t far from where they had been. If things had only been slightly different, perhaps Dave and Orion could have made it without ever having run into those two extra creatures. But as it was, Rio couldn’t change the outcome for this anymore than he could for the troll that had been killed. Was he just supposed to accept this as the circle of life? It was supposed to be natural, but Rio still couldn’t think about it without a pit forming in his stomach. The extra pressure of Dave leaning against him didn’t had too much strain as they finished their journey out of the woods. Rio tried to be extra careful of twigs or roots to make sure he didn’t send them both stumbling, but he had no trouble supporting the man. The selkie was clearly trained to fight, and Rio had no doubt that he was smart enough to know what a hunter was. Rio had played those cards. Yet Dave hadn’t called him on it yet.  “No, I’m not too far from here. I’ll be fine.” Rio signed, pulling his bag off of his back and digging through it. He eventually pulled out a notepad and scribbled his contact information on it before ripping the page free and holding it out to Dave. “Just in case you need anything, let me know okay? It was nice to meet you. Despite all the violence.”

[dngrdyke]

Kid Valentine Part 1

"Drive, drive, drive!" Faggot shouted as he jumped onto the bike. Dyke revved the engine and sped away, spitting dust into the face of the Scarecrow behind them.

"Motherfuckers!" she screamed, pointing her gun behind her and steering with one hand. She glanced back and took three shots in quick succession.

"Shit! You got her, Dee!" Faggot whooped.

Dyke grinned and put her gun away. She leaned down and sped up across the plains. They'd been chased by that unit since leaving a pile of dead Dracs at an abandoned store at the edge of Bat City.

Dyke had wanted cigarettes.

And it wasn't even her fault they were in that mess, anyway! Faggot had decided to be loud as shit and use his bat to try break open the tobacco cabinet. All he did was make a huge clanging noise and summon all the Dracs in the area.

Good news: they got outta there alive and with Dyke's cigarettes.

Bad news: Blind sent a Scarecrow.

They only ever sent Scarecrows after the iconic rebels. The Killjoys themselves.

"Shit," she muttered.

"Whatcha say?"

"Shit!"

"What now?"

"Fuckin' Blind think we're Killjoys."

"Fuck!"

Dyke was not a Killjoy. Sure, she knew 'em. She was on pretty good terms with them, even. But damn it if she'd be lumped in with pretty-boy Poison and his dumbass crew. He didn't care about staying alive. He'd be more than happy to become a martyr, have the rest of the outlaws rally around his dead body and unite against the oppressive force that was Blind. And, don't get her wrong, Dyke sure wished she didn't have to run at the slightest sign of trouble. But that's what you had to do to stay alive. Those were the danger days. You played by your own rules, and if they said run, then you ran.

"What're we gonna do 'bout it? I don't like Scarecrows!"

"Shit, Fag, there's only one thing to do," Dyke said, pulling a hairpin turn in the other direction. "We gotta talk to the Killjoys."

"How's that gonna help?"

She took a cigarette out of the inside pocket on her denim jacket and stuck it in the side of her mouth.

"I dunno," she said out of the other side. "I guess we're gonna have to figure that out."

They rode for hours across the desert, passing barely anyone, save for the radiation addicts strewn out on the ground.

"Where are we going?" Faggot asked after a while. His voice cracked which snapped Dyke out of her thoughts.

"Shit, you're parched." She slowed to a stop and killed the engine. "Picnic break, kid."

Faggot hopped off the bike and Dyke kicked down the stand.

She drew another cigarette and lit it, taking a drag before speaking again.

"You, my friend, need a goddamn soda."

He scrunched up his nose but said nothing. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

Dyke popped open the back part of the bike seat. In it was four cans of soda, some Twinkies and a can of dog food. For extreme emergencies only.

She tossed Faggot a Twinkie and a soda.

"Eat up, kid. If we're gonna make it to the Meetup before sundown we gotta keep going."

"What is the Meetup?" Faggot asked and shoved the Twinkie in his mouth.

Dyke sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Me and Poison- years ago, now- promised each other that if ever anything happened, we would go to this one place. In that place is a stash of fireworks. Either of us see the fireworks, we haul ass to the Meetup, and fuck the consequences."

"So, you're sayin'," he said, taking a glug of soda, "that this Scarecrow is enough to get you to talk to Poison again?"

She took a drag and kicked the ground, watching as the dust swirled around her shoe and made their neon pink even more faded and dirty.

She blew the smoke up and out through her hair. Fuckin' Poison stealing her hair.

"Yeah."

"Is it enough to get you to apologise to Kobra and Ghoul for beating them up?"

Dyke glared at him. "They painted my bike. Nobody touches my baby but me."

"I ride your bike."

"Yeah, but that's different. You're with me when you're riding. And you don't spray paint it bright pink."

Faggot chugged his soda and crushed the can by swinging his bat over his head and bringing it down on it. He threw it to Dyke, who caught it and put it in the compartment under the seat. She finished her cigarette and stubbed it out under her foot as Faggot stood up.

"How much longer?" he asked.

"As long as it takes. You wanna take out the radio and listen to Doctor D while we drive?"

His face lit up. Dyke never listened to the radio while she drove, unless she was in a really good mood or really nervous. And she wasn't the most talkative of people, either, which meant a lot of long silences with nothing but the bike to listen to. Faggot found himself falling asleep once or twice and had to jerk awake before he fell off. But that was only on super-long journeys.

"You mean it?"

"Sure do, kid. We can get some more supplies when we find the Killjoys, too, so neither of us'll have to eat the dog food."

He grinned and grabbed the radio before hopping back on the bike. Dyke smiled to herself. He was a good kid.

They rode again until the sun began to set and Dyke asked Faggot to turn down the radio.

"I gotta concentrate. Gotta remember where this place is."

Eventually she stopped the bike and, with a satisfied "ha!", she grabbed a bush by the roots and pulled.

It came out of the ground easily to reveal a padlocked metal box inside a plastic bag. The box itself had an X on it and a tiny spider insignia in its corner.

"Thank Destroya it's still here," Dyke said and blew a kiss to the sky. She reached into her top and drew out a key on a string.

"Have you had that the whole time?"

"Yep."

"How in the hell have I never noticed it?"

"I keep my secrets secret."

She picked up the box and took it out of the bag. Sliding the key into the lock and turning, it popped opened with a small click. Dyke stuffed the key back down her collar and flipped the lid open.

The box was packed with fireworks and flares of all colours and sizes.

"Each one means something different. That one there," she said, pointing at a red flare with a skull drawn on it, "means that the other got ghosted and the location of the box has been passed on to the person we trust the most. For me, it's you. For Poison... I dunno. Maybe Kobra. He's like a brother to him. It doesn't matter, anyways, 'cause I ain't dead yet. There used to be two of 'em, but after Carla..." She trailed off. She'd had to light the flare.

She pushed some fireworks gently out of the way.

"This one," Dyke continued, pointing at a blue rocket, "means we're in deep shit."

"So let's set it up, then."

She nodded and took it out before closing and padlocking the box. She put it back in the bag and into its hole before placing the bush back over it and patting down the surrounding dirt.

"Watch carefully, kid. When I get ghosted, you're gonna have to do this."

She stabbed the stick of the rocket into the ground a few times to make a small hole, and wiggled it around to make sure it was secure. She nodded to herself and took out her lighter.

"Faggot, you're gonna wanna get back. Real far."

Slowly and carefully with all the precision of an open heart surgeon, Dyke crouched down by the fuse and flicked the lighter. It caught immediately and she stood up and ran.

"Faggot! What are you doing? GO!" she screamed.

He seemed to catch on then and followed her, feet pounding on the hard ground.

A screaming sound filled the night and a spray of white and blue sparks preceded a loud clap.

"That'll give the desert something to talk about. C'mon. Let's get to the Meetup."

"You mean this isn't it?"

"Nah, it's a few minutes ride towards the moon."

"Oddly specific," Faggot said with a furrowed eyebrow.

"That was a joke, kid," Dyke laughed. "We go ten minutes east 'til we get to the abandoned Analogue trench."

"This is why I make the jokes," he grumbled. "That wasn't even funny."

"Lighten up, kid. We've a price on our head!" She started walking back to the bike before stopping and looking back at him.

"Race ya!"

[impulseislost]

Control and Resist

Warnings: Mentions of injuries and violence, felix does something a little rapey at one poeint

6000 words+ :)

"Jesus, you have to stop getting injured so much." The words shook Felix out if his stupor, his attention targeting on the man in front of him. The ones who's hands were resting on his currently broken arm. The one, his power was ever so helpfully telling him which muscles and bones he could move in.

He ignored that, chuckling nervously as Woojin's hands moved, one to his bruised eye and the other to touch up the numerous scrapes his body was the wary owner of.

"Not even Channie or Jisung get as injured as you this often." He continued. Well Chan and Jisung also didn't decide to take on numerous heroes and thugs in New Seoul's parahuman population every night. Not to mention that fire blaster he ran into today. Fuck, what was that hero called again?

"Sorry, hyung. I know it wears you out." Another human, parahuman specifically his power made a note of, (So not Changbin or Seungmin, got it) entered his range. He waited, listening to Woojin complain about stupid parahumans, as the person made their way to the room Felix and Woojin were in. He had the urge to just make him freeze. Use his powers to make him turn around and go away. But that'd alert the dorm that one of them was a master.

As much as he'd love to do that, Felix didn't want to out his powers accidentally. Not like Woojin had. That'd been an interesting conversation, listening to Woojin awkwardly explain his power to everyone. So he waited as the door opened and Chan's head popped into the room.

"Hey 'Li-- Oh, uh, rough night?" The blonde haired man looked a little embarrassed to come in on the awkward healing that awaited Felix every time he came across the hero team in New Seoul.

Gosh, couldn't they just stay off his turf?

"Yea, got in a fight between a blaster and something else." Woojin's hands finally left Felix's body, allowing him to shrug his shirt back on. Chan nodded sympathetically, before continuing.

"That's rough. Anyway, 'Sung got caught by that master again. You know the one, Marionette I think they called him on the news." And Jisung must have some lingering effects from Felix's power. Got it. Strange, he hadn't realised he'd caught Jisung today. Maybe one of those rouges he came across in town.

"And you want me to do my anti master bullshit again?" Felix stood up, off the bed as he walked into the lounge and felt more of the people he'd been ignoring for the past hour enter his power again.

Everyone knew who the parahumans in the dorm were. Woojin was a striker. That was the only definitive person they knew. It was kinda assumed Jeongin was some kind of master. But other than that... No one had any clue what Minho, Jisung, Felix or Hyunjin were.

Sure, they all knew Felix had some anti human master bullshit. And Hyunjin always looked his best. And Minho could somehow tell who all the parahumans were and always seemed to know something no one else did (Felix's bet was on Minho being a trump). But it wasn't quite a common discussion.

When the topic had first come up, and Chan had told them, that they needed to know who the parahumans were. The amount of heads turning to Minho and Jisung were enough to tell.

Jisung had triggered most recently, in the quiet of their room. He'd been right next to Felix, had seen the way that Felix had dropped to his knees with a pained cry. So it wasn't a surprise when he looked back at Felix. And just like that, all nine of them knew who all seven parahumans were.

Jisung was leaned up against a wall, his body shaking violently. His eyes flickered up to meet Felix as he walked over, struggling to keep himself upright. Damn. Felix must've caught his motor controls. He bit his lip wondering how he could fix this without letting Jisung know.

"Again? Must've really got you this time." He mumbled, kneeling down to hold Jisung still. The moment his finger tips grazed the boy's chest, Felix was undoing the mess his power had created. The boy let out a tired laugh.

"He got me alright." Felix hummed, stepping back from Jisung and feeling the headache he hadn't realised he had fade away. The boy on the ground groaned as he stood up.

"Fuck me, I hate him. So much." That wasn't surprising. Compared to this area's last cape, Felix's way of running the area was more ruthless. Nothing got past him.

"He's a pain, I'm guessing?" Felix asked, turning and just catching Minho giving him a strange look. Like he knew something Felix didn't.

"He's a human master. Human masters are the worst sorta masters. Jesus, can't even have their own minions. He brings random people in on fights. Hides as one of them."

They weren't always randoms. Just... most of the time they were. Felix's hand came to brush through his hair as he listened to Jisung complain about human masters. That was another reason he couldn't share his power.

Back when he'd been in Sydney, he'd heard about the human master in Brockton bay. The one that was with the Undersiders. That was back when Sydney had still been a thing. After Gold Morning... Well, it's a wonder New Seoul even has a shred of normalcy.

Earth Delta was home to New Seoul, and a thriving entertainment industry that picked up right where it left off. Ignoring broken triggers anyway.

All nine of them had witnessed one, not too soon after their group's debut. A little boy had.... The less about that the better.

But either way, it was a common theme, he'd noticed. His family hated human master's, now his new brothers hated them. Wouldn't it be ironic for them to find out he was one?

Felix nodded at Jisung, stretching slightly.

"Fair enough. I'm gonna crash then, if there's nothing else?" At the silence around him (And another weird look from Minho), Felix went to leave the room, yawning once.

He was half way through closing the door when it'd hit him. He'd only fucked around with one person's motor controls tonight. And it was one of two heroes in the area.

Han, Fucking, Jisung, He thought with a sharp frown, you're a fucking cape.

He hated winter nights as a cape. He hated the fact that the fucking heroes (One of which he assumed was Jisung now, ugh) decided that now would be a good time to bother him.

He watched in quiet amusement as the civilian he was controlling with gentle flicks of his fingers dipped and dodged out of the reach of the heroes. He smirked slightly from his perch as Maestro and Counterpart stumbled and the civilian dropped back.

"God I hate masters." a heavily modulates voice hissed, as Counterpart pushed himself up. Felix snorted, letting the civilian pout at them.

"Aw, Counterpart-ah, I'm hurt." He whined, popping off his perch and placing his hands on his hips. The filter in his mask helped hide his voice, with it's naturally deeper tones. The hero hissed at him, as he draped himself over the civilian's shoulders.

"Good." Maestro strolled up to Counterpart, as Felix removed himself from the civilian and skipped back.

"Aw, don't you remember the other night, Counterpart?" He asked, eyeing the pair with a slight frown. Counterpart was a striker with maybe a touch of blaster. There was no way he could get close to fight him head on without using the civilian. Maestro on the other hand... He wasn't sure about that one's classification. The agency they worked for kept it under wraps.

All he knew was that the other was based around music in some way. Realistically, he could probably use his own power, get Counterpart to fight Maestro. But that came with the added problem, of even if he did, the other parahuman could still use his powers.

The answer he decided, he had the civilian walk over to him, running a hand up his arm, before he looked up at Maestro and flicked open his pocket knife. The boy in his arms leaned back into him as Felix ever so casually placed a hand around them with the knife placed against it.

"Now gentlemen. Rather than forcing you out today, lets make an agreement. You fuck off, so I can go home and sleep because I've had, a very long day, and I won't harm this young man's throat." He called to them, letting his influence slip off the civilian and onto the two heroes.

Counterpart lurched, trying to take a step forwards and tripping as the boy in Felix's arms slowly started returning to them. His arms and legs tensed a few times, and his gaze flickered under his hood. After a moment, he froze, head tilting back to stare at Felix.

"That's... " Maestro hesitantly let himself float over to Counterpart, his head turned in Felix's direction. Counterpart made a sound of displeasure.

"And why the hell should we do that?" Felix smirked, a hand reaching up to caress the boy's face. His smirked dropped off his face as he whispered to the boy for a moment. Play along and you won't get hurt. He felt the boy nod, and Felix turned his face back up to the heroes.

"It would be bad rep for a pair of... Capes with a strong reputation to have the problem of failing to save a civilian. See, I'm not above hurting him." Counterpart moved to get up, with Maestro's help mind you.

He glanced at the other hero, waiting for his response. Felix's arm dropped to hold the civilian close again.

"Well?" He asked, eyes flickering between the pair. Maestro seemed to take a deep breath, clipping something round in his hands back onto his belt.

"Promise he'll be let go safely if we do go?" He asked, slowly.

"You have my word. But if you betray me, I will make a show of the next one." Maestro nodded at him, leaning down to whisper at his partner. Counterpart's head jerked up, staring straight at Felix. If Felix could actually see the striker's face under his helmet... He was pretty sure if looks could kill, Felix would be pretty fucking dead right now.

"You don't give us much choice do you, Marionette?" Felix shrugged.

"Just get outta here. For fucks sake." Maestro sighed, motioning quietly to Counterpart before the pair darted away. Felix sighed in relief, removing himself from the civilian and flicking his pocket knife closed.

The boy in question stumbled away, twisting to look at Felix with wide eyes.

"You should get outta here dude. Seriously, I'm not taking you home." The guy paused, tilting his head to watch Felix.

"I have a theory about you, actually." He mumbled, so quietly Felix almost didn't hear it.

"Yeah? Well you can tell me some other time, I'm serious about the fact I want to sleep." He twisted away from the boy, just in time to miss him pull down his hood.

"You sure? Pretty sure you're not gonna want me to say it around any of our hyungs, right Felix-ah?" Felix froze, his power lashing onto the boy and bringing him closer again.

"How the Fuck do you know that?" He hissed twisting to stare at the boy and twisting his hand into the boy's shirt, not that he could resist against Felix if he tried.

The black haired, hard eyed of the appearance before him (Almost like Changbin, Felix thought vaguely) melted into someone with lighter, more ashen brown hair and softer eyes. Hyunjin blinked at him almost innocently an-- Wait, fuck. Hyunjin? Felix's eyes widened and he stumbled back.

"What the fuck? I could've k-- Oh my god, why are you here?" Hyunjin smiled with all the innocence as if Felix hadn't just threatened to kill him, and as if he hadn't just outed his power to him.

It took Felix a moment to realise, that

A) he still had his mask one, and

B) that they were discussing his identity in the open air. Felix hurriedly pulled the mask off, stumbling back again to retrieve his bag.

"I mean, I just wanted to see if I was right or not actually, but I guess... I am. Which also, you're a master and you haven't told anyone? You realise how long you've been fucking Jisung up for right?" Felix's mask was stashed into his bag, quickly followed by his hoodie to be replaced by his orange one. He grunted in response.

"You know exactly why I haven't told anyone, least of all Jisung. Have you seen how everyone reacts to the classification?" Hyunjin paused, before sighing. Felix's bag was hoisted onto his shoulder as he walked back to the elder.

"So what now? You report me? Out me to the dorm? I'm sure Jisung would just love to know I'm the one who's been making it impossible for him to walk." He twisted to stare at the other with a displeased expression. "I'm sure our entire dorm of master hating band mates would love to know that actually."

Hyunjin winced stowing his hands into his pockets.

"Honestly? I was curious about this Marionette person originally, now that I know for sure it's you. I want to help." He smiled again.

Felix quickly shook his head.

"No, that's a stupid idea, do you even know how to fi-Why would you want to be a villain?" Hyunjin raised an eyebrow.

"Everyone bitches about you a lot so it's easy to overlook the little things you do, but I want to help you with them." Felix... He blinked, at Hyunjin. The other man smiled gently at him.

"I... You know what? Fine, Talk to me about this in the morning. But for now, fine." Hyunjin clapped once, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Hyunjin bounced on his back the next morning, as he was entering their practice room for the day. Felix stumbled forwards a few steps, almost using his power out of reflex to push Hyunjin off.

The boy giggled, his arms wrapping around the master's neck and clinging to his body.

"Hey Lix~" He cooed into the younger's ear, pausing before slipping off his back with a practised ease. Felix grunted in mock annoyance.

"Morning Hyunjin."

The elder smiled brightly at Felix, who was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes having got out of bed maybe an hour earlier. There was nothing in their schedule today so, he hadn't bothered with any of the niceties normally required of him. (Honestly, fuck eyeliner so much, he hated that shit)

Around the room, the other seven members drifted around, Minho stood by the mirror with Woojin sending Felix and Hyunjin weird looks, while Jisung was trying to attach himself to Jeongin.

Hyunjin's arms wrapped around Felix again, capturing him into another hug, as his ears picked up on words meant only for him. Minho cast them another look.

"Can we talk about last night." Hyunjin breathed out, before Felix nodded slowly.

"Yea, sure. After practice." There was a pleased laugh, before the elder slipped away to talk to Chan about something.

Felix sighed, watching him for a moment before shaking his head and bouncing up and down a couple times to get his blood flowing.

Practice finished far too fast for Felix's liking and he found himself in an empty practice room with the lie of helping Hyunjin with something to cover them. The music for their title drifted through the room, as Felix went through the choreography as he waited.

The other stood to the side, drifting through social media and standing there. The song ended, with the last notes fading off before he looked up.

"I was serious last night." Hyunjin commented, capturing Felix's attention. The blonde raised an eyebrow before the other continued, "I want to help. I've seen what this area gets like when you're visiting your family."

Felix raised an eyebrow, looking at the elder through the mirror and glancing away once he returned the stare.

He knew what Hyunjin was talking about. Felix had travelled to another world about six months ago to visit his family for a week. Getting to see them had been worth it, but... Coming back and finding that his turf had been run rampant with scum was not the welcome back gift he had wanted.

It'd taken him weeks to get the area back in order, and that was without the added problem of Maestro and Counterpart getting involved.

The Australian offered him a frown, turning to the sound system and starting their title again. He let himself practice along to the music, eyes flicking to Hyunjin.

"... You'd be learning on the go, because I am not stopping to train you." He murmured after a moment, stopping mid motion. "And, I'd say we find you a mask but you don't seem to need one. Do you?" Hyunjin frowned slightly.

"No, but... I might invest in one anyway." And that ended that conversation.

"Just remember to be careful around Maestro. He's a shaker of some kind. Sound perhaps? I can get Counterpart for the most part if you keep him occupied." Hyunjin nodded, already his features melting into someone else's as Felix relayed the plan to him.

"And what if Counterpart shoots at me?" He asked, zipping his jacket up and letting Felix lead him out onto the street.

"Well... I always just threaten a normie, don't I?" Hyunjin snorted.

"Okay, but for people who don't have a psychopath persona to keep up?" Felix opened his mouth to reply before an annoying, familiar modulated voice called his attention.

"You have a friend today." Felix's head flicked up as the armoured figure of Counterpart sauntered down the street. He sighed, rubbing his head gently so as to not disturb his mask.

"Showing the new guy the ropes, couldn't you leave us alone for oh I don't know, three days?" He snapped at the hero, powers flaring out and catching him tightly. The air warmed significantly around the two, as Felix walked forwards, closer to the hero.

"Maybe we would, if you didn't decide you were going to fuck me up every other evening when I'm on patrol routes. You think of that you two face piece of sh--" Counterpart hissed, cutting himself off.

"If you fucks stayed out of my territory we wouldn't be having that problem now, would we?" The temperature rose higher, and Felix felt his arm get caught on by someone. Hyunjin?

He allowed himself to be dragged back from the hero, taking a deep breath.

"I'm done with this shit anyway, we should go Hyung." He muttered, as Hyunjin let go.

The hero behind them chuckled. And a crackle of static signified the communication between one of the other heroes in Seoul. And for fucks sake, Felix was already done with this prick.

The temperature still hadn't gone down, and neither him nor Hyunjin were out of range of his average accurate firing range. Felix did not want to get skewered by a flaming icicle tonight. Which wouldn't have been the first time.

Felix took a deep breath, searching his pockets for the knife he had and turning back to the hero with a frustrated sound.

"Drop the fancy heat show. I'm not doing anything tonight. No murders, no robberies. Just showing a new team mate the area. So, if you could fuck off, that'd be lovely."

Counterpart tilted his head before taking a deep breath.

"You drop the mastering then." His eyebrows furrowed, before he let his power go and took a step back. Hyunjin tilted his head.

There was a quiet moment, before the temperature went back down to bearable and the hero also took a step back.

"We'll be on our way, just leave us alone to night." The hero nodded at Felix's words, before the villain turned around and caught Hyunjin's wrist. Time for us to go then.

As Felix pulled them away from the area, he felt Hyunjin's wrist shift, becoming slimmer. More delicate.

When he turned his head in the direction of the boy, he found he was holding a young woman's wrist. Hyunjin smiled, charmingly, before slipping his (Her?) hand into Felix's. He... Wasn't going to question this, just pulled the boy (girl?) close and kept walking.

They pulled down an alleyway, out of sight before either of them spoke.

"I was so sure you were going to try kill him for a moment." The younger male glanced over, before shrugging.

"Counterpart is annoying, and I wish he'd leave me alone. Tonight I'm in a good mood anyway." Felix mumbled in reply, letting go of the girl (Boy? Fuck if Felix knew) and stepping back. Hyunjin nodded, stepping back and smiling.

"Well then, let's get this over with. So I can sleep."

Long work days always had him stressed the group out. Chan had been snapping at everyone (Save Jeongin for some reason?) all day. Minho had gotten on his case about falling over during a dance practice for Victory Song. Well excuse him if he wasn't all perfect and balanced all the time like their lord and saviour Lee Know.

He'd fucked up his Korean rap in practice as well. It had been a long day, and fuck, Felix didn't even want to go out tonight, cape wise or in general. He just wanted to sleep.

So the moment all nine of them reached the dorms after returning home, Felix darted to the shower to clean himself and sleep. Hell, not going out would be useful for Woojin as well he supposed.

Except the moment he came out of the bathroom, he found everyone else sitting in a circle with various take out menus around them.

Fuck.

"Hyung! What do you want to eat tonight? We're getting takeout!" Jeongin chirped happily from where he was nestled in Woojin's side. The sight would normally be endearing, the youngest of them actually accepting hugs for once, but at the point in time, Felix just wanted to sleep.

"I'm not hungry, Innie. Besides, we're probably just going to end up getting chicken again so why bother asking?" Felix ran his fingers through the now bleach blonde hair he had as he spoke. Honestly, why was he bleach blonde again?

Jisung frowned from beside Jeongin, his own hair now pushed under a grey beanie, "Felix, you need to eat. We have an early practice tomorrow and you don't want to be crashing."

God why couldn't they just leave him alone?

"I'm fine, promise." And then was when fucking Bang Chan decided to get involved apparently. Great.

"He's right Felix," He said, in English, "You should eat. It doesn't even have to be a lot. Just enough that you don't wake up in like two hours to eat."

Why? Why why why why why? Felix groaned.

"Can you please ju--"

"Felix can you please just shut up and agree with them so you can go to be quicker for fucks sake?" Minho commented without looking up from where he was scrolling on this phone. Felix frowned.

It felt like Minho was just trying to bait him now for some reason. It was new. He never did anything like that.

"J-Just do it without me?" He stuttered. Stuttered? Fuck. He... Hadn't stuttered in a while.

"No?" There he went again. Except, this time he looked up, with a smirk ghosting his features. Like he knew what he was doing. And that honestly pissed Felix off.

"Why not? What's your fucking problem? I'm not hungry, I don't want to eat, is that so hard to get through your heads?" He hissed, subconsciously feeling for his pulse without noticing. the feeling of his blood thrumming under his skin calmed him slightly. Minho opened his mouth again.

"Don't!" Felix snapped at him, clenching his fingers, "I'm tired, and not hungry. Let. Me. Sleep."

Chan frowned at him, and oh god Felix was so exasperated already. He took several steps back from the group.

"Felix, you're being rude. This is really uncalled for."

"Uncalled for? You're saying I'm being uncalled for? You're the ones that won't get off my case!" He gestured frantically, taking more steps back. Somewhere distantly, something told him he needed to stop. Needed to go. Before he did something he would regret. Hell, Minho was already giving him that knowing look again.

He hated it.

"Feli--"

"No! Just, just! Shut up! Shut up and leave me alone!" He covered his eyes, taking a step back. He needed to get out of here. Needed to fuck off before-- He felt someone get up.

No.

Without thinking he reached out, grasping at the other them, forcing them back into a seated position. There was a quiet intake of breath along with a rough thump, before he removed his hands from his eyes.

Hyunjin seemed to have landed on his elbow when Felix had forced him down again and he now lay staring at him with widened eyes. Felix took another step back, hesitantly. Shit, he didn't need this.

Jisung's eyes flickered from where Hyunjin lay, following his gaze, to Felix who stared back at him with wide eyes.

"You... Felix what the fuck?" The rapper started to get up himself as Felix took another step back.

"I..." Jisung got up slowly, eyes flicking back to Felix warily. Minho clicked his phone, placing it to the side and watching, that knowing smile still resting on his lips. (unbeknownst to them all, He was really watching four people specifically, counting down the seconds.)

Everyone else watched this warily, Chan slowly getting up himself. Felix took another step back.

"Is there something you want to tell us about your power Felix?" Felix shook his head frantically. Jisung's eyes flickered between him and Chan for a moment, and the pair seemed to come to some sort of agreement.

"You really should, after all... I'm not sure Hyunjinnie is lying like that of his own volition, no?" Jisung commented, frowning when Felix flinched. Slowly the other members of the group slowly started standing, starting with Woojin.

Felix took another step back, his back hitting the wall. Fuck. The blonde swallowed harshly, before Jisung took a slight step forwards.

"Whatever this is, you need to calm down Felix." Jisung took another step close, before Felix forced him back.

"Leave me alone, ple--" He cut himself off seeing Jisung's face. Jisung was frowning, recognition in his eyes. Felix paled.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, before running for the door, barely avoiding Chan's arms and picking his shoes off the floor before running out of their dorm.

He wasn't sure how Minho found him, just he did. He'd been hiding in one of the dance studios (Maybe the one Hyunjin had been using for his lives recently) when the door clicked open to let Minho in. The moment the man was in the door, he was pushed away.

There was a sigh then a knock.

"Can I come in? I just want to talk about... What happened. I promise I won't tell hyung or Jisung where you are." Felix waited for anything else before he let the elder into the room.

After a moment he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He paused, before jogging over to the stereo and plugging in his phone. Felix watched as Minho spent a few minutes scrolling through his playlist before a twice song came on through the speakers.

"It'll look weirder if someone isn't practising in here." The younger looked up to see Minho going through stretches with a yawn. Felix shrugged tucking himself closer the wall. And the brunette fell silent.

The quiet lasted a few more minutes, during which only music and the sounds of Minho's shoes squeaking on the ground broke it. The last song, Yes or yes to Felix's amusement, had just ended before either of them spoke.

"They're going to hate me now, aren't they? They hate masters. They hate my power." Minho looked over, half way through going over Victory Song.

The elder paused, glancing over before he shook his head.

"No. They won't trust you for a bit, especially Jisung, but they'll get over it. This was probably the best option for your power being outed honestly."

Minho had that knowing tone in his voice again, only this time it was comforting rather than infuriating. He stepped over, running his fingers through Felix's hair in a comforting manner.

The younger felt himself relax. After all the stress of the day, Felix just wanted to sleep, maybe curl up to Hyunjin and cry. If, Jisung would even let him inside.

But, something Minho said caught onto his attention and he looked up, frowning.

"What do you mean 'best option'? Are you saying that... They were going to find out anyway?" Minho sighed, crouching down and taking Felix's hand.

"Do you trust me?" When Felix nodded, Minho took a deep breath and Felix's vision was obscured by---

He was in costume, standing-- KNEELING, on the ground, clutching one of his arms uselessly. Hyunjin was lying a little off, a pool of blood around him. Whimpers were coming from the elder, and Felix winced, trying to drag himself closer to him.

Another icicle was blasted into him and he collapsed.

"God, fuck. Stay down." Counterpart hissed at him. Felix coughed, lifting his mask enough to spit out blood and covering his face as he collapsed.

"Counterpart, that's enough. They can't do anything anymore." Maestro grabbed the boy's arm as Felix struggled to stand up, to sit up. He looked up, and there stood Counterpart glaring down at him.

"Fucking heroes. You almost killed him." Felix hissed, glancing to where Hyunjin was still whimpering. Maestro paused, jogging over to the wounded villain and reaching to check his pules before---

"Hyunjin?" Felix froze. Fuck. Oh no nonono no. Counterpart froze, staring between Felix and Hyunjin before lifting the master off the ground in a rough movement. His arm twinged in protest.

"What the fuck did you do to Hyunjin? Why is he out here you little fuck?" The air froze around him and Felix was desperately trying to keep his mask on as he coughed up more blood into the inside.

"I, didn't do anything to him. This was all you." Blood spilled from under his mask, and he weakly slipped his hand under his mask to wipe it clear, knocking his mask loose in the process. He couldn't fix it with one hand so he just had to hope Counterpart decided to leave--

He was dropped to the ground and his mask bounced free. Frantically, Felix tried to cover his face with his arm.

"What did you do to Hyunj--Felix?" Oh. Fuck. Maestro turned around at Counterpart's words, staring at the master, who quickly looked away, saying nothing.

"Coun--" Maestro cut himself off as Counterpart started up again.

"Lee Felix, is the master who's been fucking my life over for the past couple years. Oh that's just royal. A great joke. What a fucking great brother he is." Felix coughed up more blood, spitting it at Counterpart's feet.

"You're not much better, Jisung. At least I've never hurt any of th--" Another icicle shot him in the chest.

"Shut up, you don't talk to me ever again. I'm not your hyung, you're not my brother." Counterpart, no Jisung, hissed.

"Jisung I think you should--"

His vision was back to his own, still desperately clinging onto Minho.

"You're a clairvoyant." Felix gasped out, breath heaving as he let go and frantically checked himself for injuries. Minho shrugged.

"Among other things, but.. That's why this was the best way for them to find out." Felix just nodded numbly.

"I wasn't ready..."

"Were you ever going to be ready Lix ah?" Was he? No, probably not. But that still hadn't made it any easier. Now Jisung knew who it was that'd been doing that to him, and they all knew he was a cape now. It wasn't fair.

"Thought so." Minho went to stop the music, turning back to the younger, "We should probably get you home actually. Before the shit storm gets worse."

As Felix had expected, the moment he was inside the dorm door he'd been pinned to a wall. He chose not to comment that this wasn't exactly standard master countermeasures and that he could probably force them all off him if he chose. Instead rose his hands to shoulder height letting the group see he wasn't doing anything, more for their sake than anything else.

His eyes flickered to Minho for advice, then to Hyunjin who was chewing on his lip as if unsure what to do. Felix shook his head at the elder before looking around again.

"Is this all?" He asked, in an exhausted tone, flicking his eyes around again until they met Chan's. Jisung's grip on his arms and torso were starting to freeze, to feel absurdly cold.

A minute passed, during which Felix just watched Chan. Before it all started to get a little old and Felix decided to breach the news.

"Alright, Jisung, I know you think you're being useful but really," He manoeuvred the rapper away from him carefully, detaching himself and hissing when the cold suddenly became very, very, hot.

"You're not doing much. Master countermeasures do not include pinning human masters to walls." The men around him froze as he took a step away from the wall, hands still raised in the air. "Now that we've proven I don't need my hands to master you, do you actually want to get to the point with this hyung?"

His eyes flickered to Jisung slowly, before glancing back at Chan.

The elder man seemed to be contemplating now, watching Jisung with a frown. After a moment of silence in the dorm, it wasn't Chan who spoke. It was Jisung.

The boy whirled on Felix again, the air burning up around him as he spoke.

"You're a master, and not just any master but the master who's been causing trouble around this area." When Felix nodded, letting his hands drop to his side, Jisung looked up, mouthing words to himself. A moment passed before anyone else spoke.

"You don't have to like me for it, but this is who I am, hyungs, Seungmin, Jeongin. And I've been told that, well, this is probably the better way you found out. I'd say I'm sorry, that I'm ashamed of who I am, what I am. But I'm not, I'm really not. You can kick me out of Stray Kids for all I care, but given the chance, I'd probably do all of this again." Jisung flinched as Felix spoke, the younger's eyes flicking around again and landing on everyone save Minho and Hyunjin.

At this point he didn't have enough energy to care of what they thought of him anymore, just that they know, that they could separate him from his cape persona.

He didn't care.

Chan took a deep breath, nodding to a couple times."

"I won't get you kicked out of Stay Kids... That'd cause too much unrest with Stays, especially because we wouldn't be able to justify it. But you are in so much shit right now Felix." Felix shrugged in response.

"If it helps, I've never intentionally used my power on any of you. Whatever's happened with Jisung has been an accident, and the outburst before was... And accident. I planned on keeping you away from that actually." Jisung rolled his eyes at Felix. God Felix was ready to slap a squirrel.

"That's all, can I finally go sleep now? Or am I going to get a parahuman containment squad called on me?" Chan nodded at Felix, and the younger Australian turned away, stepping past various members of the group and slipping into his shared room. No one stopped him.

Which, was an upgrade from being pinned to the wall, he noted as he was under his covers and half asleep.

An Upgrade.

The next few days were rough for Felix, with most people (Save Hyunjin and Minho) treating him like he was going to blow up and suddenly master them every time they interacted. Jisung wouldn't even look at him.

He payed it no mind. Mostly.

This carried on for about a week, during which he skipped out on a couple broadcasts they had so the others could breathe without him.

The Monday after this, about two weeks before their comeback, Felix had been sitting on the floor reviewing their dance practice when Woojin came to sit beside him, motioning for the phone so he could watch as well.

At first he stared in complete confusion before hesitantly offering the device over.

"We don't hate you, you know 'Lix ah. It's just..." The elder paused in his words, motioning Felix over and pulling him into a hug. That was the first of them.

The next day, Changbin offered to help with his rap again and the day after that Seungmin was nestling into his side.

Felix recognised that, the going and recovering of this information was going to be slow, he knew that. But it still hurt that neither Chan or Jisung would look at him properly.

He couldn't force them, but it wasn't helping his mental state. It was a slow process to recovery after all.

"Hey Felix!" Chan called, poking his head into the door a month later. Felix looked up.

"Yes hyung?" Chan smiled at him.

"Wanna come to the Han River with us?"

Felix had missed that smile being directed at him.

A/N: Because this is a fanfiction for another fandom as well, here are some of the terms used explained:

Parahuman: In the worm universe, a parahuman is someone that has a power

Blaster: Someone who's power allows them to shoot projectiles

Master: Someone who's power allows them to control projections or people, a human master controls people i.e Felix in this

Striker: Someone who's power works on touch

Trump: Someone who's power affects other peoples powers.

Trigger: The moment someone gains a power is called a trigger event.

Cape: If someone is a super hero or super villain, they are a cape.

Earth Delta: One of many new earths after the previous one got destroyed bc of scion

Brockton Bay: A fictional city in the cannon of worm

Undersiders: One of the villain teams in cannon worm

Classifications: The way they label parahumans power types their are a few different types

Shaker: Someone hwos power affects a large area

Countermeasures: Like... each seperate class has it's own countermeasures. its neat

[midnightluck]

Hi it's me again! So just a random thought, prompted by your fairy magic ones, what if Ace and Sabo are together on the MD, like Sabo is there for the Revs, and their both turned into kids, but plot twist they do not have any memories of being older. So the Whitebeards have feral mean child Ace AND. Sabo who while much better than he is as an adult, is still a snarky little shit who enjoys other people annoyance.

Not quite what you asked for, but it follows this and this.

Ace steps off the gangway and onto the dock. The ground is steady under his feet and it takes him a second to adjust, but the salt in the air is as familiar as ever. He glances around the docks, but all the slips are full up and he doesn’t get but a once-over before an arm gets slung across his shoulders.

“Where’re you off to, then?” Thatch asks, propelling him forward. “We’ve got ‘til they get here, so stores? Bars? Restaurants?”

Ace grins at him, then plants his back foot and ducks his head. Thatch’s arm slides right off, and Ace laughs at him and the look on his face.

“Something like that,” he says, even though his plans are nothing like that at all. “You?”

Thatch grimaces and says, “Do you have any idea how much food it takes to feed all of you, even without company coming? I’m off to the markets. I’m always at the markets. The sheer volume of food you, specifically, go through, personally offends me, and--”

Ace makes noncommittal humming noises and lets the monologue wash over him. He follows Thatch anyway, right up until town, and then he slides sideways into the trees while Thatch waves wildly and yells something about cheeses.

It’s soothing, out in the trees, in a way that no ship ever has been. There’s greenery everywhere and he can track the wind by the leaves. There’s sounds, too; there’s birdsong and quiet plant rustling, and a bit of turned earth next to marks in the dirt that he knows means a boar is around.

It’s easy to follow, big and blatant,probably because it doesn’t have much to fear on such an island as Franjibelle. It’s a mild day, pleasant out, and Ace loses an hour or so to tracking. It’s nostalgic, and by the time he catches up to the animal, he’s deep in the woods. Everything is quiet forest noises and the boar snuffling and the familiar sound of Sabo pacing his steps just out of sight. It’s like any hunt from ages back, and he falls into the pattern easy as blinking.

He always starts by going left, and he does this time, too. He falls from the branch and spooks it right. It squeals and rears enough that he’s sure it’s a female, and then turns and runs.

Ace knows this dance, though, and when it hits Sabo and he turns back left, Ace is already in place and waiting. He’s got fire now, and it’s easy enough to surround it with a ring. Then it’s a simple matter of finding the weak spot of the skull, and his eyes trace the lines from ears to opposite eyes, and then it’s just a matter of spinning his dagger hilt into the spot those lines cross.

Everything is fire and noise and danger for a swirl, and then he’s bleeding her out and making sure she stays down. He takes a second to thank her as her eyes go glassy, and doesn’t even blink when boots thud down next to him.

“The fire’s new,” Sabo says, and Ace looks up into scars and a smile he knows like breathing.

“Oh,” Ace says, and if his hands weren’t busy supporting the boar’s head, he’d probably punch that smug face. “What,” he says instead, knees in the dirt.

“Hey, remember a few days back?” Sabo asks, swinging his pipe out of the way and falling to sit next to him. “When you accidentally wished a memory-me into being?”

Ace squints over at him. “So I’m dreaming this time?” he asks. “Or just hallucinating? I don’t think I pissed off any other fae recently.”

“I don’t think you pissed one off at all,” Sabo says mildly. Ace wipes his hands off and tucks his dagger back away. “Seemed more like a favor to me.”

“You’d know,” Ace says and heaves the boar up and over his shoulder. “Being made of magic and all.”

“I’m not,” Sabo says, still sitting. “I’m actually here, Ace.”

“Of course you’re not,” Ace says, trying a step to see if he can manage. He shifts it a bit until the weight distribution isn’t throwing him off and then keeps going. “You’re kinda dead.”

Sabo finally moves, planting one palm in the dirt and using it to pivot both feet under him in a movement they both learned from Gramps. Ace turns his eyes away and glances up. He’s lost quite a bit of time, according to the sun, but they hadn’t intended to leave until nightfall anyway so he’s got plenty of time to get back to the ship and offer Thatch his boar as an apology gift.

“I’m not dead,” Sabo says, falling into step but not reaching out to help. “You think a little thing like fire could kill me?”

Ace fixes his eyes on the ground ahead of him, picking his path and not looking at the specter walking beside him. “You did kinda blow up,” he points out reasonably. “And if that didn’t get you, the drowning would have. The scars are new, though.”

“Mmhmm,” Sabo says, sticking both hands in his pockets. “Got ‘em from that time I didn’t die.”

That’s reasonable, as far as justifications go, but Ace knows better than to get his hopes up. “Sure,” he says, “but I see your hat made it through just fine.”

The fake Sabo huffs and tugs the brim of his hat. “It’s a new one,” he says, which is a blatant lie if ever Ace heard one. “You wouldn’t believe how much it cost to get it made.”

Ace shakes his head and keeps walking. He’s done arguing with the shade of his dead brother, and the fake Sabo’s silence is as comforting as the real one’s was. He even walks with his eyes turned the way Ace’s aren’t, just like the real Sabo would’ve. “How’s Luffy?” he asks instead.

Sabo lights up and talks with his hands, just like he used to. Whatever is causing this illusion, it’s really thorough, but so was the last one. In any case, he seems to know a lot about Luffy, and Ace whistles at his baby bro’s new bounty.

Not-really-Sabo shifts into a story of Luffy visiting Lougetown that takes them all the way back to the forest’s edge, finally winding it up with a quick, “--and then he got them back to ship and they tore outta there,” in just enough time for Ace to skid down a slope and land right beside the small group of Commanders standing on the side of the road.

“Hey!” Ace says cheerfully, swinging the boar around and down at Thatch’s feet. “Look what I brought you!”

Thatch stares at it, then at Ace. “Why,” he asks flatly.

Ace blinks back. “You were complaining about the cost of food. I thought I’d help.”

“So you pulled a disappearing act that gave us all heart attacks and went off into the woods without telling anyone so you could hunt a boar alone, yoi,” Marco says.

Ace looks down at it and them back up at Thatch. “Do you not know how to cook boar? It’s pretty easy.”

“Do I--” Thatch closes his eyes and brings a hand up to massage the bridge of his nose. “That’s not the point, Ace.”

“I can help,” Ace offers, reaching out a hand. “It’s better slow-roasted, but--”

“Don’t do it like that--” Sabo starts, reaching out, and Ace steels his nerves and doesn’t flinch. It’s fine; the hand’ll pass right through--

Sabo’s fingers catch on Ace’s wrist, and the world flips inside out.

--

There’s a whole bunch of strange people who are taller than him, and Ace hisses on instinct and puts his back to Sabo’s.

“Who’re you?” Sabo’s asking, and Ace tenses further. It’s Sabo who knows people, but he apparently doesn’t know these guys and that spells trouble.

“What?” one of the strangers says, leaning in to loom over them. “What just happened?”

“Sabo?” asks one with weird hair, crouching down down get closer, and then his gaze switches. “Ace?”

Ace hisses again and Sabo tenses. “Those aren’t our names,” Sabo says, taking a step back.

“Of course they are,” the first one says again, and throws his arms out. “You think we don’t recognize you?”

Ace flinches and Sabo glares, and they both back up another step.

“C’mon, yoi,” says the second, still on the ground. “Let’s get you back to the ship. Maybe Pops will know something--”

Sabo’s hand flies to Ace’s wrist, and they both turn and bolt.

“Hey!” someone yells from behind them, but Ace puts his head down and runs. He doesn’t know where they are; this forest isn’t familiar. It’s still a forest, though, and he knows those better than any stupid adult.

They make the tree line and keep going, and both make for the first big bush to break line-of-sight. It’s sitting on the edge of an incline, and Ace takes the turn too sharp and slides down just a bit..

Sabo’s hand is still on his wrist, though, and Ace pulls, scrambling upright and planting a hand on the ground to get enough momentum to turn the fall into a swing. Sabo drags him up and around as they make a hard left and keep going further into the forest.

The trees here aren’t as tall or as dense as the ones he knows, and Ace decides climbing them’ll be a pain. They probably won’t have to, though, because it doesn’t seem like anyone’s caught up with them.

They slide into a small ditch, just a shallow holler below ground level, and they stop to catch their breath.

“You think we lost ‘em?” Sabo asks, and Ace holds his breath for a second to listen.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think we did.”

Sabo nods, then starts going through his pockets. “Where are we?”

“I dunno,” Ace says, going through his own. He’s got a sharp rock, a handful of coins, a half-empty box of matches, and a band-aid--everything that he should have. Sabo’s turned up a knife and a handkerchief and some other odds and ends.

Ace squints up at the sky. “We’re gonna need shelter soon,” he says; the sun’s dipping low. “And food.”

Sabo nods. “Hunting? I don’t have my pipe…”

Ace doesn’t either, and they don’t have time to make traps, not when they don’t even know if anything around here is worth trapping. “Let’s keep moving,” he says. “There were people, so there’s gotta be a town.”

“Hunt to hunt,” Sabo agrees, their shorthand term for making towards a town while trying to find something else on the way.

They scramble out of the ditch and Ace looks around, trying to get a feel of the land. Sabo stands back and lets him. Ace knows forests better and they both know it.

Given what they ran past getting here and the pattern of the underbrush, the thicker part of the forest is back that way, so he heads the opposite way, and readjusts as they go. There were people, so there’s bound to be some kind of town or something, and chances are it’s not in the forest.

Sure enough, by the time the sun’s sunk a thumb’s-width towards the horizon, they’ve broken out of the forest and found the outskirts of a settlement just a bit away. It’s too big to be a village but not quite big enough to be a city.

Ace makes the swirl-over-eyes gesture that means scope out a soft target and Sabo nods once, sharp, and disappears down a side street. Ace sticks both hands in his pockets, hunches his shoulders, and works his way into the market area.

The crowds aren’t as big as he’d like, but he’s small and quick and knows how to be invisible.

"Gotcha!" the redhead yells, bodyslamming Ace into the ground.

He's got a couple feet and a lot of weight on Ace, but Ace has no shame and fights dirty. He sinks his teeth into the closest limb and uses his nails as claws. The man squirms and yells, and Ace gets his legs free.

It's enough, and he's scrambling away before he's even upright. There's a flash of blue on the other side of the square and he starts for it. "Sa--!"

His legs are still pumping, but he's not moving forward anymore. He's moving upwards instead, being lifted by his collar from behind.

He hisses and spits and swings both arms over his head to get his nails into the wrist supporting him. It does no good, though; he can feel flesh yielding beneath his fingers but the perpetrator just keeps him aloft. “Can you not, yoi?” the person behind him asks.

“I can kick your face in,” Ace hisses back and squirms harder. “Lemme go!”

“What’d we ever do to you?” Sabo is yelling as a moving chunk of shiny white stone stomps over to them, Sabo in hand. “Put us down!”

“After we went through all this trouble to catch you?” the redhead says, one hand over his eye. “Damn, kid; you’ve got good aim.”

Yes, yes Ace does, but he just huffs and crosses his arms. He doesn’t have to accept compliments from kidnappers.

“Why are you after us?” Sabo asks, still dangling, and oh, that’s something Ace hadn’t thought to ask. “Neither of us are worth anything.”

It’s a good thing Ace knows to let Sabo do the talking, cause he’d never sell a lie that big.

“You’re not?” the person holding Ace asks. “Neither of you?”

“Street brats,” Sabo says, grinning a sharp grin. “No money, no bounty, no ransom, no useful skills. So you may as well let us go.”

The redhead huffs. “I know you’re lying and I still can’t tell.”

“He doesn’t lie!” Ace lies, struggling again.

The person holding him shakes him, just a bit, and says, “We’ve got to get them back to the ship somehow, yoi. Anyone got any rope?”

“I’ve got cuffs,” the redhead says, stepping forward. “Not the right size, but they’ll do if we run.”

“I am not chasing them all over this island again,” the first guy says. “Cuff them.”

“No, no--” Sabo starts scrabbling at the stone arm holding him, trying it climb it to get away from the cuffs. “No, don’t, no--!”

Ace doesn’t have the same issue with handcuffs that Sabo does, but he fights just as hard for the exact same reason. “No! I’ll go quietly! I’m the one you want anyway, don’t put those on him--!”

But it’s too late. One is clicking into place on Ace’s wrist while the redhead slips the other onto Sabo’s ankle.

The moment the metal touches skin, though, the world pops in place and turns right-side in.

~

Ace hits the ground face-first, one arm over his head, and groans. He tries to ask what’s going on, but all he accomplishes is a mouthful of dirt.

There’s an answering groan, though, and Ace goes to push himself up. His hand won’t retract, though, so he tugs hard and looks up in just enough time to catch a boot to the face.

“What?” someone asks just as he yelps “ow!” and several someones laugh.

He groans and rolls over to his back. The sky is nice, at least. The sky isn’t mocking him.

“Ace?” A head pops into his field of vision. “Is that you?”

He doesn’t know the voice, but he knows the cadence, he knows the way his name sounds, and he knows that damn hat. “Sabo?!” he squeaks, sitting upright.

His forehead slams into Sabo’s chin and they both recoil. “What the hell, Ace!” Sabo yells.

“What the hell, Sabo!” Ace says back, sitting up more carefully. “Aren’t you dead?”

“Only as dead as your common sense,” Sabo snaps, and Ace goes to cross his arms and yanks hard enough that Sabo yelps and falls flat as his foot going flying. Ace looks down to see the handcuffs connecting his wrist to Sabo’s ankle. Huh.

That explains the kick. Ugh, he’s gonna have a headache all night, isn’t he? Sabo’s giving him that look and Ace groans and flops back over. “What even,” he says.

This time it’s Marco who leans in to block his view of the sky. “You okay, yoi?”

“No,” Ace says, but Sabo is here, so also, “yes,” but also he’s lost and his head hurts, so probably, “no.”

“Make up your mind,” Sabo says, but he scoots over enough to sit next to Ace and work his fingers into Ace’s hair, so he can’t be too mad.

“Are you a wish again?” Ace asks, reaching up to touch.

“Nah,” Sabo says, and gives him that small fleeting smile that means he’s truly happy. “I got a wish, too. Well, kinda.”

“I bet you got cursed.”

Sabo huffs. “I did not,” he says. “I was given a gift, just like you.”

The sun’s blocked as someone crouches down towards them. “Hey,” he says, and it’s Thatch. “So this is Sabo, all grown up, huh?”

“Pleased to meet you!” Sabo says, dipping his head. “Or, well, it’s good to see you again?”

“I’m sure it is,” Marco says, hands on his hips as he looks down at them. “Now, how about we do this somewhere besides the middle of the town square?”

Is that where they are? Ace looks around and finds that, yeah, they are, and there’s a lot of whispering and pointing going on. He sighs and bats at Sabo’s hands until he can sit up. At least the headache’s lessened.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got the key for these, have you?” Sabo asks Thatch, gesturing at the handcuffs they’re both still wearing.

“Depends,” Thatch says, producing said key. “You gonna run away again if I unlock ‘em?”

Ace very carefully doesn’t look at Sabo. “No,” he says, holding out his arm.

“Of course not,” Sabo says disdainfully, straightening his leg.

Thatch sighs but goes ahead and uncuffs them. Ace huffs and stretches, and Sabo gets up neatly. He turns to Ace and offers a hand up.

Ace meets his eyes and takes it, and his lips quirk. Yeah, they’re thinking the same thing. “You forgive me?” Sabo asks.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” Ace replies, and Sabo pulls him to his feet, already turning.“Meet you back at the ship,” Ace says to the Whitebeards, and he takes off after Sabo.

A whole chorus of shouts raise behind them, but they duck through the people and around the stalls and are out of town long before anyone can catch up.

“Hey!” Sabo yells at him as they barrel towards the tree line. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“No!” Ace shouts back, smiling fit to catch bugs with his teeth. “Why? Does it matter?”

Sabo’s laugh is breathless but loud enough, and they keep running.

[callsignbaphomet]

Oh! I got some questions bout vamps! First, assuming that “bite to turn” is a thing, are there/what are other turning methods? Second, how did the FIRST vampires come to exist? Third, what special abilities do they have, do individual vampires have power(s) unique to them? And lastly, aside from sunlight, what are their weaknesses?

1. The only way to turn someone into a vampire is through a specific bite. Vampires aren't rare but there really aren't too many which is why I'm careful about who I make a vampire and why. So anyway, the virus is transmitted via a bite from a carrier. Not every vampire is a carrier though, once a vampire reaches Mir Rank (201 to 300 years as a vampire) a vampire can turn into a carrier. Nothing physically changes so it's really hard to tell until they try or has a blood test done. Basically it consists of a carrier biting the victim until they have a liter of blood or less but still have some blood left in them and then they leave the victim to let the virus run through what's left of their blood and 24 hours later there's a new vampire. Those 24 hours are excruciating and can be traumatizing as the victim is actually experiencing literal death but they never die. Carriers are the ones that leave bite scars on their victims. When the others bite the wound heals quickly and leaves no scars.Problems with this: Really hard to tell when the victim has a liter of blood or less left. It's a guessing game that is often times lost. Not many vampires make it to Mir Rank. Those that do reach that rank don't bite to turn unless there is a very strong and/or personal reason to turn someone and even then there are risks or it might not even work. Lots of people don't survive the 24 hours of the virus killing and reanimating them because of other reasons (someone knows what's going on and they kill the victim before they can turn, exposure to the elements and so on) and it's often thought of as an inhumane procedure. Not that many carriers, they're rare, 1 in 100 vampires is a carrier. Ginger and Varg are carriers.2. No one knows the actual origins of the very first vampire. Everyone speculates or has their own theory. There are some who say it's an infectious disease, some say that it's a curse like werewolves are. Some even say it's some type of genetic evolution from the werewolf virus. In short no one knows. As far as anyone is concerned they just popped up outta the ground like daisies one day.3. Vampires are more attune to magic. Anyone and anything can learn and use magic but vampires have a more intimate understanding of magic. What abilities they use varies between each individual depending on personal taste. For example, Trevor is kind of afraid of magic and he keeps it at arms length. However he does know a short burst teleportation that puts him 25 feet in any direction. As a sniper this is perfect for finding a suitable crow's nest to have a better view of the area of operations. Abigail's speciality is infiltration so she employs a type of echo location using heart beats to locate hostiles, she can also use a muffling spell that mutes any noice she and anything on her would emit. Her bread and butter though is a type of hypnotic suggestion that requires her victims' hearing and visual senses. Using her vocal cords she emits a humming sound that captivates her victims and once she locks eyes with them they are completely taken over by her and she can command them to do her bidding. It only lasts for a few minutes but it's useful for undercover and quiet work. Ginger, like Angelus, is a master arcanist and can use any magic she so chooses but she prefers defensive and boosting magic to aid her fellow agents in the ao.As a vampire grows older the more abilities easily become available to them without the need to practice and study them. They just one day realize they can do X thing and do it. It's all up to the person and what is more suitable for them.The only thing they should never do is blood magic as it could be dangerous for them.4. Aside from sunlight nothing else really. Silver is like an EMP to electronics for them. Won't kill them but it'll injure them enough to make them back up. Also crosses or stepping on holy ground doesn't work. There are vampires who are devout Christians and go to church when they can. There are even priests, pastors, rabbis, ect. that hold night time services for those who can't make it during the day because sunlight will kill them.

[mechanicalriddle]

rundown of last nights fucking insanity

so long story short, we’re on the hunt for these artifacts, the most powerful man in the world is on the hunt for us, and everything is really touch and go! but we figured we still had time for a party. so we all went and bought nice outfits n shit and attended a grant award gala for a university. im sure nothing at all will go wrong at this party because parties in stories are always nice and fun and never get crashed right

everything is going great, @doctormoreau is still workin on gettin wit Ayrs whose a scientist (they’re both old elf scientist gays & its really cute) and also he’s our bro who hosted us overnight.

Anyway so that happens, the scientist who the gala is being held for (her name is Mabel) mistakes them for a married couple, which was pretty awkward & objectively great. amira is dancing with her tragically soon-to-be-outie scar-crossed-lover drow, isobel is being a goof while the character SHES tryna get wit is just kind of staring her down. 

siobhan is... in the corner moping, because everyone here is very old. eventually she finds a student to dance with, and they have a short scene which is about where shit started to get wack. so we’re dancing and this kids fuckin... sleeper cell programming kicks in. things get awkward before my dance partner fUCKING JUST. CHANGES FORM, PULLS OUT A GUN AND SHOOTS ME DIRECTLY IN THE FKIN FACE (turns out her true form is also a tiefling, hence why i had a premonition earlier of me shooting myself in the face)

thanks to ~*magical destiny bullshit*~ (i think specifically amira’s) the bullet stops right before it hits me and falls to the ground. cue two teenage girls trying to murder each other. klaus DM rules that i can use hellish rebuke so i set her on fire, then try to strangle her, and she grabs me by the arm and t h r o w s m e t h r o u g h a t a b l e (ouch)

then ANOTHER fucking agent (who we all failed perception checks to notice) runs up out of the crowd and goes for amira’s relic necklace, but he can’t yank it off because its essentially superglued on her by magic. so what does amira do? uhh shoots the motherfucker in the stomach. he goes staggering backwards off the stage, falls on his ass, and starts scooting away, probably leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

me + Argyris (WIZARD SQUAD) take down the tiefling, who just kind of falls limply on the ground like a ragdoll but cedryc uses Spare the Dying (and closes her eyes, cuz it’s super fucking creepy why are they still open) then we all kinda converge on this other guy. Amira steps on his coattails and siobhan, who is somehow the best intimidator in the group, fires up burning hands + thaumaturgy and with advantage scares the absolute piss out of this guy (”WHOOOOO SENT YOU”) she kneels down and grabs the guy by the shirt-collar to try and intimidate again, but the guy pops a cynaide pill and dies in her arms.

then the sprinklers go off (THANKS miss i-need-to-shoot-fire-outta-my-hands at every given opportunity) siobhan finally drops him and starts bawling, because triggering your own PTSD is never fun

shortly afterwards we grab the other tief and book it back to Ayrs’s research lab, then strap her down to a table and wake her up. 

When we do wake her up, her sleeper-cell training has clearly turned off, and she’s basically scared to death and strapped down to a table with 4 now quite capable fighters interrogating her. but it doesn’t take too long to notice that something is clearly very, very wrong. a few questions later, we learn her name (Illucid) and successfully determine that this character has been, for lack of a better word, bucky-barnes’d. shes also STILL like my (siobhan’s) age, and has clearly been manipulated for years, because @tillaneesia loves deliberately ripping out my heartstrings. asshole.

Siobhan, who was standing in the doorway, decides now is the time to dash into the room, grab onto illucid as best she can (considering shes strapped down to a table) and the two have a moment, and i drop some dank backstory hints that siobhan and illucid might have a little bit more in common than she is willing to admit

Mabel is also there because Ayrs dragged her along. she has an inkling, and feels around on the back of Illucid’s head where she locates a device that has been essentially installed into the back of her skull. She then states that she thinks she can successfully remove it, and asks Ayrs to bust out all of his marine biology equipment so we can do some quick-and-dirty surgery on this poor kid.

at this point i’m crying, amira is crying, basically everyone is crying. after we all hug it out we leave Mabel alone to... well, work her magic.

we all retreat to our rooms, knowing that our archenemy is  onto us and we will all need to leave tonight. 

BACK TO ISOBEL, and Tachian, who is the DM (@tillaneesia‘s) character. tachian has essentially worn a full body covering for the entire game, and panics every time some article of clothing comes close to falling off. Tachian essentially ran out after Illucid started erratically shape-changing due to incredible emotional distress (i guess the thing in the back of her head let her do that) so after everything’s kind of died down, isobel tries to track her down. the room is completely dark, and isobel (who has fucked up in this aspect before) decides to just. hang out by the door and not look inside. but for once, Tachian actually lets her in. Cue big reveal.

Tachian pulls down her hood. she takes off her gloves, and her eyepatch. turns out she’s like, 8 levels of fucked up. isobel grabs the rest of the group bc i guess we all broke down tachian’s walls enough to get to know her tragic backstory.

turns out, she was born in a laboratory and is, in fact, a failed supersoldier. of course. this geneticist was essentially i guess trying to hand-program a doppleganger who could be controlled and used for military/espionage purposes; unfortunately tachian was one of his earlier iterations, and the first one to actually survive and be a person. she didn’t work right, couldn’t shift, instead wound up being a horrifying patchwork of different races and because of her terribly conflicting biology was essentially in constant, agonizing pain.

i think this was approximately around the time i went and did this:

she was essentially locked in a basement for the first twenty years of her life while her creator would drop by every couple of months, try to fix her, fail, then leave again. unfortunately we found out this guy already drank himself to death, though had i the money i would shell out 25k for a true rez so i can kill the motherfucker a second time. eventually someone found the lab & this poor, incredibly damaged 20 year old with no social or survival skills and brought her to a monastery, and that was like 15 years ago. she spent her isolation reading her “father’s” research materials, became obsessed with finding these artifacts, and eventually set off on her own to meet us, the people who are destined to possess and use the artifacts to unlock their true potential.

also important to note that tachian essentially confirmed that illucid was, quote unquote, “The me that worked,” meaning someone stole her father’s research and is now using it against us. cool cool cOOL COOL COOL COOL

after all this deep ass shit, we all finally decided it was time to leave. All of our new friends. this meant cockblocking the fuck out of poor Argyris and leaving illucid, who was just starting to recover from having a thing, yknow. yanked out of her brain. and we did this with the knowlege that we genuinely may never see these people ever again.

but i know better. what i know, that my character doesn’t know, is that this is a d&d campaign.

@tillaneesia

#BRINKBACKILLUCID2K17