#all mob mentally the moment they decide one person is not good enough for them

[raplinesmoon]

Après Moi, Le Deluge (JHS x F!Reader)

pairing: Hoseok x afab!reader genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, mafia au, sort of arranged marriage au, exes au, 18+ summary: It was one night. One night where Hoseok sought refuge from the storm outside, from the life he led, from the past that haunted him. And where else does fate lead him but back into your arms?

word count: 8.2k

warnings: the mafia, mentions minor character death, cursing, smoking, alcohol use, use of weapons, strained relationships with parents, mental health issues, mentions threats against people Hoseok cares about, brief, non-graphic depiction of blood and injuries, breakups, makeups, a cameo by one Xu Minghao, Hoseok and OC are both very closed off and bad at communicating, Hoseok is lowkey an asshole for most of this, happy-ish ending, smut warnings: making out, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, marking, teeny bit of cockwarming

a/n: Hello it is me, profusely apologising because there is no reason this should have taken this long to write, other than I had the worst case of writer's block ever, but I missed Hoseok and I needed to see this through. This fic is set in the same universe as Doom Boy, my Namjoon mafia fic! You don't necessarily have to read Doom Boy to read this, but it may help some of the moments mentioned here make sense! The title is a reference to a famous saying by King Louis XV of France, or if you're me, season 1 episode 11 of The Originals. I hope you all enjoy <3

listen to the playlist here!

The rain slams down on the pavement, rendering the soles of Hoseok’s shoes even more sodden than they’d previously been. A cold, sticky feeling settles across his spine, and he heaves for breath, wishing he could just stop and take a break. But he can’t. He has to keep moving. Resisting the urge to shiver and warm himself up, he rounds the corner.

The day had started off normal enough. Hoseok had been assigned patrol duty for the day by Namjoon, a task he was more than familiar with. After the collapse of the Kim empire and his father’s death, Namjoon had returned to clean up the family business. And he was doing a damn good job at it, training the younger ones like Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook in how to run a business.

But there was more to this than a business, and Namjoon knew that well enough. Someone had to be around to air out the dirty laundry, to clean up the streets. And who better for the job than Hoseok? 

He was used to it anyway, more comfortable around knives and guns than he’d ever been around people who weren’t Namjoon, Yoongi, or Seokjin. It was partly the reason he’d been sent out tonight, to monitor the slimy activities that took place under the cover of night. 

Yet sometimes, the downpour got the best of Hoseok. He hadn’t been expecting the Choi cronies to spot him, much less for them to be armed. Luckily they were as thick-skulled as Hoseok expected them to be, and he’d been able to craft a quick escape. For the time being.

But it wouldn’t last for long. Hoseok knew the men would be on his tail all night, and as much as he wanted to call for backup, he didn’t feel like bothering Namjoon, Yoongi, or their families, at this time of night. He wouldn’t have had a problem bothering Seokjin, but that fucker had run the moment he’d shot up Namjoon’s father. 

Looking around, he falters. The buildings around him loom ominously, stretching much taller than he’s used to, the lights from the highest floors creating artificial stars against the cloudy backdrop of the sky. Hoseok gathers that he must be in the swanky part of town. He scoffs, knowing from personal experience the rich were no better than the mobs and gangs they pretended to look down upon, licking at their bootstraps whenever the necessity arose.

Still, he decides it’s better to take cover. He spots the sleeping security guard from outside one of the buildings, and slips in, shaking the raindrops from his hair. Making his way to the elevators at the end of the lobby, his mind ran with plans of how he’d clean up the mess with the Choi men in a way that Namjoon would approve of. 

Which is why he misses the other person entering the elevator at the same time as him, instead collapsing against the railing and letting out a loud sigh, rubbing at his eyes.

“H-Hoseok?” the voice that calls out to him is quiet, barely above a whisper. But its familiarity sends a chill down Hoseok’s spine. It’s a voice he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes open slowly, and he sees his shocked reflection mirrored in the ones directly across from him, eyes that he’d never been able to forget. The way they look at him now is the same way they’d been the last time he saw you, on a similarly cloudy day.

The eyes of his former fiancée.

The doors of the elevator screech shut, the sound doing nothing to drown out the pounding of your heart. The soft tiny plops of raindrops echo on the grey floor, falling from Hoseok’s hair as he freezes at the sound of your voice.

You suck in a breath, lungs desperately searching for air, unable to squeak out anything beyond his name. Brows furrowing, you check him for any signs of injury, relieved when you find nothing but his blank eyes blinking back at you. You didn’t have to ask him where he’d been tonight. Both of you already knew.

It infuriates you that even after everything, after all this time, he still manages to have this effect on you. You hate how you can’t take your eyes off the lean curve of his neck, or the tiny mole above his heart-shaped smile.

A chill runs down your spine, despite having never stepped foot out in the rain. 

“Why are you…” your throat feels heavy, struggling to get the words out, to ask him why he ended up here of all places. Especially when you made it clear you never wanted to see him again after the last time.

“Choi’s men were tailing me, I had to get them off my back,” he barks, immediately regretting his harsh tone when he looks into your weary eyes, on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” he adds on, more gently this time. “If I’d have known, I would never…”

Never what? Never managed to infiltrate the one place you thought you could be free of him, from the past the two of you shared?

Your shoulders slump against the panel, and you realize you’d never pressed the button to go up, too consumed by his presence. Finally managing to muster up the focus, you turn away, hearing the elevator creak to life.

“You’re always sorry. How can I be sure that this time, you mean it?”

Hoseok is annoyed. First of all, this damn elevator is taking nearly too long to go anywhere, and he longs for escape from this metallic box that’s imprisoning you both. Second of all, your words cut at him, sharper than any knife and hotter than any bullet any of Choi’s men could have sent his way tonight.

As far as he remembers, you’d been the one to end it. You’d been the one to walk away from your arrangement.

He doesn’t know why he grits his teeth, biting down to combat the throbbing pain in his temples. You were supposed to be gone, your goodbye delivered in the same way the designer bags and packages piled up at your doorstep - neat, polished, shallow, the ties that had brought you together unraveling before they’d even had a chance to be joined properly. 

Unfinished business. That’s what you were. And Hoseok hated unfinished business. But somehow, he’d never managed to hate you. You’d never given him a fair chance.

. . .

Hoseok shrugged the wife beater over his head with a grunt, immediately turning around to see if he’d woken up his sleeping companion, but she remained unfazed, her soft snores echoing into the pillow. 

He lets his eyes linger over her body appreciatively one last time before he slips on his leather jacket and is out the door. For a brief moment, his hand twitches, yearning to reach into his pocket and call Namjoon for old times’ sake, detailing every last detail of his lascivious romp. The thought is abandoned immediately, Hoseok’s mood souring at the thought of his former best friend. Namjoon had no trouble leaving all of them behind, so why should he even bother? Instead, he reaches into his other pocket, his frenzied emotions finally calming down when he pulls out the lighter. Ducking under an awning, he checks his surroundings for anything suspicious before affirming that the coast is clear, lighting up and taking a drag. The smoke drifts away on the nighttime breeze, and Hoseok follows, roaming the city streets. 

It’s lonely at this hour, not another soul in sight, but Hoseok prefers it that way. Gone are the days when he and his friends would run through the city, stealing cars and honking horns at everyone for fun. Now, shit had hit the fan big time, and there was no room for fun anymore. With Namjoon gone, Hoseok, along with Seokjin and Yoongi, had been sucked into the tangled web of duties he’d left behind, each stepping up in their own way.

Holding a gun in his hands for the first time had been a sobering experience for Hoseok. It rattled him that if he pressed down on the trigger, so many things could change in a split second. He’d heard the higher-ups in the organization rave with glee about how much fun it was putting the city’s other families in line, Namjoon’s father at the head of them. And for a brief moment, Hoseok understood what it was that Namjoon had run away from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still pissed off about it though. 

His lips turn up in a smile when he takes in the graffiti on the building in front of him, thinking back to his younger, more rebellious self, before faltering. Someone else was there. 

He wonders if you’re cold, the thin satin gown doing nothing to protect you from the chill, and he wants to laugh at the contrast between his well-worn leather jacket and the jewels dripping from your ears. They must cost a few thousands of dollars, money he’d never had in his pocket. His eyes scan around for someone, anyone – a boyfriend, or a husband maybe. But you’re alone.

Nobility has never been Hoseok’s forte - Namjoon and Seokjin had always been the womanizers, and poor Yoongi had been in love with the same woman for over ten years, but he clears his throat, prompting you to turn around, eyes widening at your company.

If he catches a glimpse of unshed tears in your eyes, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Kids these days, huh? They’ll do anything to cause a little chaos,” he quips, a sinking feeling building up in his chest when you don’t respond.

“Ma’am,” he grapples with whether he should ask for your name, “do you need me to walk you home?”

“Did you read it?” your voice is quieter than he expects, yet he draws closer, wanting to hear more of it. Coming to stand beside you, he takes in the captivating features of your face, made all the more alluring by the shadows cast across them.

Following your gaze, he looks at the mural on the wall. A giant wave, Hosukai-style, crashing into a set of words. “After me, the flood,” your voice whispers, and Hoseok feels a rush of emotion at the way you say it, his mind circling back to everything that had happened in the past few years - the dark cloud that had settled over all their lives with Namjoon leaving, the city’s underbelly coming to life, crawling out of the woodwork. 

“I have to go,” you interrupt him, heels clacking against the pavement, before Hoseok’s gaze turns sharply on you, the desperation in his eyes begging you not to go. Come sunrise, he’d be forced back into the same grim routine, but right now, it felt nice, standing here with you.

“Will you be okay getting home alone?” he asks, grappling for any chance to prolong the moment.

“My driver is around the corner,” you tell him. “Thank you for keeping me company, –”

“Hoseok,” he fills you in, his chest aching with the desire to ask for your own name, but you’re already gone.

. . .

Hoseok wakes up the next morning to the rattling of the blinds, the sunlight causing him to immediately shut his eyes and bite back a groan. There was only one person who’d have access to his apartment at this hour – and exploit it.

“Eomma?” he rasps, burrowing his head further into the sheets. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you forget Hoseok-ah? Hurry up and get dressed, everyone’s waiting! You have five minutes.”

Forget what? His mother’s fussing continues in the background as she leafs through his closet, no doubt trying to find him a suitable outfit amongst the many pairs of ripped denim and oversized shirts he prefers on a day-to-day basis. Hoseok wracks his brain, trying to remember what could have called for such an occasion, but comes up empty, his mother’s stern warning echoing in his ears. 

As per usual, if it had anything to do with the organization, he’d do best not to ignore it.

Slipping on the stark white shirt and tie she’d chosen, the fabric itches against his skin, and he rakes his fingers through his hair, attempting to comb the mess into something somewhat presentable. He’s sure there was little to be done about the bags under his eyes, and the faint smell of tobacco emanating from him, and hoped that whoever these important guests were, they wouldn’t catch onto his late-night activities from the previous day. 

Stumbling into the hallway, Hoseok hears the faint chatter of voices, his father’s bellowing laugh a stark contrast to his mother’s delicate titter, and is immediately confused. Conversations with the bosses of the organization weren’t usually so… enthusiastic. 

When he rounds the corner to his living room, he stops in his tracks. Sitting next to his mother and father is another older couple he doesn’t recognize. They reek of wealth that his family could never even imagine, he notes, the polished Italian leather of the man’s shoes and the older woman’s massive diamond ring speaking for themselves. But he could honestly care less. Because to their left side, sitting on his favorite armchair, is you. The woman from in front of the mural. You’re clad in a simple sundress today, but you still manage to be nothing short of breathtaking against the backdrop of the sun’s rays. 

“There you are, Hoseok!” his father beckons him over jovially, but Hoseok remains frozen. “This is Mr. and Mrs. ____, and their daughter ____.”

Hoseok’s turns his gaze to his father, watching him recoil at the sharpness present in his son’s expression, a thousand unspoken questions lingering on his lips as to why these people were here, what purpose they had in his home, his space.

“We’d like for the two of you to get to know each other,” your mother speaks up with a smile so wide, he’d assume it’d been plastered onto her face. 

“Why?” he finally manages to whistle out in between grit teeth, looking only at you. But you don’t meet his eyes. Instead, your gaze is looking out his window, at the city beyond, the same loneliness from last night ever present in your eyes. 

“Because,” his father continues uncertainly, fidgeting the glass of wine in his hands, “___ is going to be your wife.”

You can feel Hoseok’s eyes glaring into the back of your head as he follows you wordlessly down the hallway. Moments pass before you come to a stop outside your apartment, and you hear the faint stumble of Hoseok’s boots as he stops unexpectedly in his tracks. His warm breath fans against the back of your neck for a brief moment before he straightens with a grunt, and you resist the urge to shiver, despite having never stepped foot into the rain.

The lock clicks, and he follows you inside. You can hear him rustle behind you as he struggles to remove his coat and boots, but you look straight ahead, hoping the darkness can hide how your fingernails are digging into your palm. 

“I won’t stay long,” his low voice breaks the silence. “Just until the storm passes.”

“Please,” you manage to muster up your most polite sounding voice. “Have a seat. I can get you something, maybe some water, o-or a cup of tea…” 

You want to curse your voice for wobbling in his presence, hating the way he still affected you even after all this time apart. Your brain bades you to walk away instinctively, and so you pad into the kitchen, wanting to put distance in between you and Hoseok so he can’t hear the rapid fluttering of your heart. The noise pounds in your ears as you rattle around in the cupboards, cursing when you realized you’d forgotten to turn on the light. It seemed embarrassing to do it now, and so you reach aimlessly, looking for some coffee. 

The pot bubbles, and in mere moments, you’re clutching two steaming mugs, finding your way back onto the living room. Hoseok has settled himself onto your couch, taking extra care not to rest his soaked shirt against the back of it, instead hunched over and dangling an unlit cigarette from his fingertips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you’d be okay with me…” he gestures to it, twirling it around in his fingers. “I know you don’t like the smell.”

You’re unsure whether to be touched that he remembers, or uneasy at the way he says it so monotonously, as if you’d still judge him for something so mundane when so much else had happened in between you.

“Here,” you set down the coffee in front of him, taking the seat directly opposite. “It’ll help take the edge off.”

The warm liquid burns your throat as you rush to take a sip, and you nearly sputter trying to keep it down. Over the rim of your cup, Hoseok remains frozen, his own mug steaming and untouched. His dark eyes bore into you, studying your face, and you feel your cheeks begin to burn.

If he notices the bags under your eyes, he says nothing. The same way he says nothing when he probably remarks at your simplistic clothes and lack of jewelry, a far cry from the expensive dresses and diamonds he’d been used to seeing you in. 

“Were you about to go out?” Hoseok asks, and the question catches you off guard. “I’m sorry if I stopped you from going somewhere.”

“Or meeting someone.” The last part is a hushed whisper, mumbled underneath his breath, in the hopes that you wouldn’t catch him. But you had. You wish he’d stop apologizing. It makes you feel guilty when you shouldn’t be, like he’s trying and you’re shutting him out, when in reality it’d been the exact opposite. 

All of a sudden, your phone buzzes to life, a text message lighting up the screen. You freeze when you see who it’s from, quickly snatching your phone and cursing in your head. Minghao was a friend of a friend, the two of you running into each other a number of times over the past couple of weeks, before he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask you for a coffee date.

You’d told him you’d think about it, and now here he was, lighting up your phone to ask you about your decision. Of course, how was he supposed to know that the reason you’d been holding off was the very man sitting in your living room, whom you’d almost married, and still couldn’t seem to let go?

Clutching your phone to your chest, you turn it to silent, setting it down beside you. Hoseok’s eyes are alight with curiosity, his lips turned up in a faint smirk, as though he’s remembering his statement from earlier. 

You take another sip, willing the caffeine to give you some strength, to rein in the bare threads of this conversation back to your control.

“How are your parents?”

Hoseok is taken aback by the question. He hadn’t expected it from you. There had once been a time where you’d been bright eyed and eager, wanting to know everything about him, bombarding him with question after question every time you were together. And yet somehow, he’d never managed to give you the time of day, always giving brusque answers and half-hearted excuses that there were other things that needed his attention.

He knew it was just a poor attempt to fill the silence, but his heart lurches at the thought that there’s so much you don’t know anymore. Namjoon coming back, Seokjin running away, the life that Hoseok knew being turned inside out. What’s more unsettling is the fact that he yearns to tell you, despite knowing he’d lost the privilege to do so.

“They’re okay. Doing well,” he lies through his teeth. “We all are. How about yours?”

He thinks it’s an innocent question, but he watches your fingers blanch as you grip the mug so tight, he thinks it’ll break. 

“I wouldn’t know,” you whisper out softly, and his heart stops. “I haven’t spoken to them since– you know.”

Hoseok feels dizzy at your confession. What do you mean you hadn’t spoken to them? Suddenly, it all begins to make sense in his head. The fact that he hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, because he hadn’t expected you to live alone, with your austere clothes and hair tossed up into a messy bun. It was so different from the woman he’d known, the dazzling one he’d written off as hollow in his mind, the one he was incapable of forming a real relationship with. 

And here you were, living the exact opposite of the cozy life he’d painted for you in his head. He thought you’d be fine, that you’d move on, your family offering you up to the next prospect that came along. And you’d accept them, like you’d accepted Hoseok with all his flaws, not caring that he could barely give you what you deserved.

His thoughts flash back to the last conversation you had, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed.

I can’t live like this anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and he watches annoyance flash across your face. He knows he’s done nothing but apologize this entire time, but it probably isn’t even worth a damn. No consolation would ever make up for losing someone that meant everything to you. He’d known that when Namjoon had run away.

“Hey,” you set the mug down, leaning over the table. For a brief second, he sees your hand reach out blindly in the darkness, almost as if it’s searching for his, but you withdraw just as quickly. “I’m okay. I really am.”

“I wish you’d stop pretending,” Hoseok blurts out, and he watches you jolt in surprise. “Why do you always have to pretend like everything’s okay, like nothing affects you? Is it the society training? Or do you really just not care about what happened at all?”

You chew the inside of your cheek, mulling over Hoseok’s words in your head.

“The same way you can pull the trigger on someone and be able to lie in your bed and fall asleep,” you seethe, a venom that Hoseok has never heard in your voice. 

“I knew who you were Hoseok. I knew what kind of man I was marrying. You think it didn’t affect me? You think I wasn’t scared out of my wits because of what you did, what other people could do to you?” 

You rise up, palms quivering as you open and close them, strolling over to the window. Hoseok watches your shoulders shake before they slump completely, and he knows that you’re crying.

He’s up before he can stop himself, feet ready to walk out the door. He’d fucked up the moment he’d stayed in the elevator with you, all the ugly feelings between you coming to a head, ones he’d struggled so hard to keep buried. 

But his body betrays him, instead leading him right behind. He pauses until he’s just close enough that if he reaches out, he’d be able to grab your arm and turn you around to face him. But he waits instead.

“I did what I did because I realized I was chasing a ghost,” you huff out, resignation in your tone. “I wanted you to be someone you weren’t. I wanted you to care so badly. But you didn’t. I don’t want any part in whatever you’re caught up in, Hoseok. Whatever has a hold on you so badly that you couldn’t even look beyond your cynicism to give me a chance.”

“I just want to survive.”

Hoseok grips the bathroom sink, knuckles turning white. His cell phone clatters on the counter beside him and he has to keep from heaving. This whole thing was a mess – no one had counted on Namjoon coming back. Even less so on him refusing to take up his father’s mantle. And so the threats continued – the words from the anonymous phone call still ringing in his ear, your name echoing across the line.

While he didn’t know what he felt for you, or whether he could even marry you, Hoseok knew you were an innocent person. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of your parents’ greed, them using you to bury their secrets in the hands of even more powerful people. You deserved gardens full of flowers and meals together every night, not coming home to an empty bed. Or a fiancé who couldn’t spare a moment during the entire night to even dance with you. 

He’s so lost in his brooding that he doesn’t hear the door the click behind him, the soft tapping of heels on the floor coming up behind him. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask him gently, and he feels the bristle of your hand on his jacket. 

So much was wrong. You couldn’t even begin to understand. 

“It’s fine,” he clears his throat, straightening up to adjust his jacket. “I’ll need to leave soon. I can have the car stay behind for you.”

The farther away he got from you, the better. That way no one could hurt you – or him. 

“I can go with you,” your voice echoes from beside him, “I was getting tired anyway.”

Hoseok turns to face you, watching you recoil at the red rimming his eyes, the bags underneath them becoming even more prominent in the dim lighting of the bathroom.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to reach for the single strand of hair that has managed to escape your polished bun, but he watches you suck in a breath, lips parting in surprise.

Before he knows it, your face is drawing in closer, and he can smell the rosé on your breath. Your lips barely ghost against his, and he has to fight every nerve ending not to grab your hand and run away from here, somewhere where he wasn’t Hoseok, and you weren’t ____, and you didn’t need protecting from everything around you – most of all him. 

His paralysis slowly melts away and he’s pushing you away without realizing, the door to the bathroom suddenly materialising in front of him. 

“Like I said,” he doesn’t bother turning around, knowing his heart would twist at whatever expression he found on your face. “I’ll have the car stay behind for you.”

Before you can wrestle with the weight of your confession to Hoseok, a hand is clamping over your mouth. Caught in a silent scream, you turn your eyes to see Hoseok lifting a finger to his lips, willing you to stay quiet. And that’s when you hear them. The voices.

Raucous laughter echoes through the hallway, tinged with malevolent glee. The air around you feels cold, a breeze at the base of your spine, and you instinctively curl into Hoseok.

“Come out, come out,” the disembodied voice cackles from the hallway. “Are you hiding from us, Jung? Found some poor rich girl to use as a body shield?”

Your hand seizes Hoseok’s wrist clamped against your mouth, nails digging into his arm, the fear taking over. Slowly, his wrist lowers, slipping to take your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?” 

He’s so quiet you almost can’t tell he’s said it at all. You nod reluctantly, eyes continuing to dart to the door.

“Go hide underneath the bed. Lock the door. I may or may not come back but please stay inside. Don’t come looking for me.”

His voice is clipped, the faint hint of nerves colouring his tone, but his eyes are filled with a resoluteness you know all too well. You’d spent the better part of over a year staring into them, hoping they’d look back. And now they finally were. 

“Be safe.” Your voice comes out louder than you’d intended, but there’s no anger in Hoseok’s expression. All he does is nod, and then you turn, stumbling down the hallway to your room, never bothering to look back until you hear the door click behind you.

. . .

Hoseok’s heart pounds in his chest, a strange pain settling in his ribs – he never expected to be in this position again. His sense of duty had always been his biggest downfall – and while you were no longer his, he owed it to you to make sure he gave you exactly what you’d asked him for – the chance to survive, to come out on the other side of this. That’s why he had to settle this once and for all.

Choi’s cronies linger at the other end of the hallway, too dumb to notice Hoseok slipping out of your door, reaching for the revolver he’d kept hidden in his coat pocket. A chill settles in his bones as he runs his fingers over the metal.

The brief events of the night play over in his head – the rain pounding against the pavement, the ding of the elevator, the now-cold mug of coffee that sat on your coffee table. And then there was you – your eyes, the softness of your skin, the faint smell of gardenias that lingered on your skin.

And it hits Hoseok that while he was very much alive – he’d been in mourning. Mourning for the friendships he’d never be able to recover, for the youth that had been taken away from him. But most of all, Hoseok’s heart mourns for the relationship he’d never gotten to have with you. The glass walls he’d so carefully put up around himself shatter, making way for a torrential deluge. 

After me, the flood.

He remembers the first night you’d met, how he’d been drawn to you without even trying, the portrait of the wave. He remembers the months that passed afterwards, where you drew closer to him and he drew back. He remembers the regret he’d buried deep in his heart for not kissing you back the night of the gala, not knowing he’d never get another chance.

But most of all, he remembers the somber expression on your face the day you’d ended things, pressing the engagement ring back into his hands, the very same ring that was still sitting in the first drawer of his nightstand. 

Choi’s men finally perk up, noticing Hoseok’s solitary figure lingering at the end of the hallway, smirks twisting on their grotesque faces. A shot rings out, and Hoseok thinks of you now, hiding under your bed. And then he charges.

The alleyway was grim at this time of day, the sunlight barely able to reach beyond the towering skyscrapers, the clouds casting everything in grey. Rain fell softly from the sky. You clutch your coat tighter around you, unable to stop looking at the mural of the wave.

So much had changed since you’d first seen it. And yet it was still the same.

You know Hoseok from the thud of his boots against the pavement, coming up beside you. His head turns, an eyebrow raised in your direction, wondering why you’d asked to meet him here of all places.

You avoid his eyes, fingers clasping around the blue velvet in your pocket. His eyes widen with surprise when he sees the box, confusion marring his handsome face. 

A knot forms in your chest when you watch the confusion turn into alarm as you press the box into his hand, the dazzling diamond no longer on your left finger.

“I don’t understand,” he grunts, breath visible in the cold air.

“We can’t do this anymore, Hoseok. I can’t do this. I can’t live like this.”

“Was it something that I did?” he questions you, desperation creeping into his voice.

You scoff, watching him flinch, pain on his face. 

“No, it’s the opposite. It’s what you haven’t ever been able to do. It’s been an entire year, Hoseok. I’ve watched you answer every phone call that comes your way, disappear into the night to do god knows what, run whenever your friends call. And in that entire time, have you ever thought about us? About the future?”

You take a deep breath.

“I know that neither of us chose this, but Hoseok, we were engaged. Did that mean anything to you?”

He squares his shoulders, fists clenching at his sides, a tick in his jaw.

“You don’t understand. I-I’m not good for you, ___. I dont think I’ll ever be. There’s too much that’s happened, too much I’ve lost. But please don’t walk away like this.

“I thought it’d be enough,” you whisper, and Hoseok freezes. You didn’t know he’d heard you.

“I thought me loving you would be enough for the both of us. But it’s not. I need more. I need someone who I know will come home to me every night. But what I need even more than that, is for you to let me walk away so I can breathe again. So I can be myself.”

Your eyes are just as sad as the first time Hoseok saw them, and all of a sudden, you remark at how stagnant the two of you had been together.

“Hoseok please, I know I can’t ask you to do it if you love me, but if you’ve ever cared about me, even the tiniest bit, let me go.”

You watch him open the box, gazing at the ring. Moments pass by before he slips it into his own pocket, his eyes flitting to the wave as he gives you a small smile, the most genuine one you’d ever seen.

“Goodbye, ____. 

Hoseok’s fist rattles against the door, before he slumps over, heaving for breath. The pain in his side licks at him like the flames of a fire. He hisses when he presses a hand to it, eyes widening when it comes away covered in blood. Those fuckers had managed to get him. Shit.

His eyes are about to close when the door springs open, the wide eyes of Kim Namjoon taking in his battered figure. 

“Hobi, what the fuck?” Namjoon seethes, offering him an arm and pulling him inside. Slinging an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, the two of them hobble to Namjoon’s kitchen, the burning in Hoseok chest causing him to let out a loud groan.

“Hyun is sleeping,” Namjoon chastises him, and Hoseok bites his tongue, remembering that this Namjoon was dealing with a pregnant wife and a toddler. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened, or do I have to force it out of you?”

“I made a mistake, Namjoon. I went somewhere I shouldn’t have tonight. I fucked up, but I-I didn’t mean to I swear…”

Hoseok feels himself shake as the words pour out, the ruined mission the furthest thing from his mind. He tells Namjoon everything – from being tailed to running into to you, to how he’d left, not knowing whether you were okay or not. 

“That was a dick move,” Namjoon huffs.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok looks up at his best friend, who looks more pissed off than he’s ever seen him. 

“I said what I said. That was a dick move, just leaving her like that.”

“I don’t need a lecture on running away from you, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon wipes away the blood on his side, and Hoseok bites his tongue at the sting of the alcohol, before slumping into the chair next to him. 

“You’re an idiot, Jung Hoseok. You’ve been so afraid of letting yourself feel things for so long, and I know it’s because you think that everyone around you is going to leave, or that you’ll lose them. But I’m telling you right now, that’s the stupidest thing you could ever do.”

“You have to let yourself just be, Hobi. Just let go. Enjoy things - life, your friends, your family. Be open to the possibility of love. It’s the only thing that can keep the darkness away.”

Namjoon’s voice shrinks when he says the last line, and Hoseok knows his friend is far off in his own mind, battling the demons that plague him. 

“I think I’m too far gone for that, Namjoon,” Hoseok tells him. “Maybe some of us weren’t meant for happiness. Maybe some of us needed to make sacrifices so others could live the lives they wanted to.”

“That’s a damn lie if I’ve ever heard one, Hoseok.” Namjoon striaghtens, rising up from the chair. “I know you’ve been angry at me for leaving, for keeping you all in the dark. I know how much it hurts to not be able to share your happiest moments with people you love. And I’m sorry for that. But you have a chance to change things.”

“Listen Hobi,” Namjoon crouches down to his level. “I want to be the best man at your wedding – I want to be there for you in all the ways you didn’t get to do for me. This is my way of making amends, but you need to fix whatever this is between you two.”

“What makes you think she’ll even take me back? I was awful to her… god, she didn’t deserve that Joon. She deserves so much better.”

“Do you love her?” Namjoon asks him, and Hoseok is shocked when he doesn’t even have to pause to think about it. He wants to start over, to be by your side, to have a chance to love you properly this time around. 

“Second chances come when you least expect them, Hobi. Think about what would have happened if you hadn’t stepped out into the rain last night. And don’t let it happen again.”

The knock at the door startles you, your phone clattering to the floor. Swearing under your breath, you pick it up, perusing the message from Minghao once again. He was nothing if not persistent. And Hoseok was never coming back. You’d convinced yourself of that.

It’d been over a week since he’d left you that night - the promise to keep you safe burrowing its way into your heart. And then radio silence. You’d heard the gunshots in the hallway, but when you’d opened the door, no one was there, the only evidence of the showdown being the faint splatters of blood on the wall. When the police had questioned you, you’d left Hoseok’s name out of it – those words echoing in your mind, instilling a false sense of loyalty in you.

Why did you think things would be different this time around? It’d been foolish to assume that Hoseok thought anything more of you. But you couldn’t forget the look in his eyes, the gentle touches, the way he’d promise he would never let anything happen to you, and you fell for him all over again.

Throwing your phone aside, you grumble as you make your way to the door, making a mental note to respond to Minghao later, agreeing to the date.

Swinging it open, you freeze when you see who’s on the other end. Hoseok, looking worse for wear with bruises on his jaw and a nasty cut on his forehead, nervously twirling a tiny bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You’re dumbfounded - unable to speak as you take him in, his dark, inquisitive eyes gazing into your shocked ones. 

“You better let me in, ____,” he says with a grin. “Or the neighbours are gonna think I did something really bad this time.”

Wordlessly, you open the door to allow him to enter, watching as he slips off his coat and shoes, an exact repeat of a week ago. You watch him, trying to open your mouth and say something, ask him anything, but nothing will come out. 

“These are for you,” Hoseok nearly shoves the bouquet in your hands and you watch him rub at the back of his neck, his ears reddening.

“Are you okay Hoseok?” you finally manage to ask him, setting the flowers on your coffee table. Your concern wins out over your confusion once again, but the whole scene is odd – him, smiling in your apartment, the late afternoon sunlight casting half his angular face in a mysterious shadow.

“Just a little nick to my side,” he lifts his shirt up, your eyes widening at the bandages on his abdomen. “But actually, I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay since the day I let you walk away, and I can’t live with it anymore.”

You take a step back, unable to breathe. The space in between you seems to have lessened considerably, and you can make out every delicate detail of his face. Dizzy, you put some distance in between the two of you.

“Everything hurts, ___. It hurts because I look at you and I feel like I can’t breathe anymore, knowing how much pain I put you through. It hurts knowing that you’re so kind, so understanding of someone like me, when I don’t deserve it at all. And what hurts the most is knowing that I love you, and I’ve been lying to myself this entire time because I’m afraid you’ll leave just like everyone else, but I lost you anyway.”

Hoseok’s voice cracks on the last words, and you watch him sway, gripping onto your counter for support.

“I thought it was just me this entire time,” you finally manage to look him in the eyes, tears spilling out of your own. “I thought I was crazy, because ever since you walked out that door a week ago, all I’ve been doing is waiting for you to come back.”

“I’m here,” Hoseok closes the gap between you, arms wrapping around you. You breathe in the faint scent of tobacco on his leather jacket, mixed with the spice of his cologne. “And I’m not leaving. Not this time.”

You grip his lapels, before your arms come up to wrap around his neck, running your fingers through the soft hair at his nape. 

“What if it’s not different this time around?” you whisper into his neck. “What if nothing changes?”

“What if it is?” his low voice rumbles into your hair. “Can you trust me, ___? One more time?”

You take his hand in yours, bringing it to your chest, his lips parting in awe at the fluttering of your heartbeat.

“Only you can do that to me,” you say softly, a smile gracing your lips. 

Before you know it, Hoseok’s lips are crashing against yours, and you can feel him release a euphoric sigh, groaning into your mouth. It’s slow, tentative in the way he waits for your body to respond, never pushing more than you’re comfortable with. Eventually, even the small bit of distance in between you becomes too much to bear. You card your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, warmth blossoming in your chest.

It feels too short when he pulls away all too soon, lips tinged with red and eyes dark with something that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since the night of the gala,” he rasps, warmth blooming in your chest at his confession. “You were—, I mean you still are, breathtaking.”

You can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse point right there below your fingertips, and you reach for his hand, watching his entire body soften at your touch. 

“Come with me,” you ask him, eyes turning down the hallway to your bedroom. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for. 

Hoseok tries to ignore the rapid rushing of blood in his ears, his focus narrowing to your head resting on his shoulder, the two of you looking out at the city together for the last little while from your bed. It’s somewhere he never imagined he’d be, but he’d felt the ice around his heart melt the moment he’d finally kissed you for real, warmth filling his veins.

And despite relishing in your presence, it was spiking to a fever pitch. He’d tasted you, and now he couldn’t get enough. All it takes is a brief moment for you to look in his eyes, and he’s pulling you into him once again, mouth hard on yours, unable to resist the desire for more, more, more. 

You whine into his mouth, hands fisting at the edge of his shirt, struggling to pull it over his head. He uses one hand to pin both arms behind you, reaching over with the other to hike your dress up to your stomach, finally peeling it off, and you lie back, eyes alight with desire as you take him in. 

He kisses you again, his lean body hovering over yours, hands roaming everywhere – your arms, up your neck, and on your thighs. He inches higher and higher, fingers ghosting over your core.

“Hoseok please,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You part your thighs for him, and he wastes no time, pulling your soaked underwear to the side and dipping his fingers into your arousal. He presses another hard kiss to your lips, catching your moans in his mouth while he works you open, leaving you trembling underneath him.

You whine when his fingers leave you, clenching around nothing, coming up to cup your exposed breasts in both hands while he licks and sucks at your nipples.

“Fuck,” he groans against your chest. “How are you so perfect? How are you even mine?”

His voice breaks, and you mouth at his jaw, mirroring his actions until purple bruises begin to bloom in the spots where your lips previously were.

“I’m yours,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Believe me,” he smirks. “I like it. I like it a lot actually. Let me show you how much.”

With adept skill, he manages to remove your panties in seconds, throwing them to the wall. The clinking sound of his belt drives you mad, and your hands join his, the two of you awkwardly fumbling to remove it.

You feel your mouth go dry when his cock springs free, and he chuckles at the depraved look in your eyes.

“Some other time, love,” he whispers, voice lowering a few octaves. “Right now, I need to feel you.”

You gasp when he pushes in, and he pauses, wondering if it’s too much, but you nod, letting him know it’s okay. He thrusts shallowly, before pushing in all the way, watching you squirm underneath him while rutting your hips.

“Move, please,” you beg him, and he obliges, hiking one leg up over his shoulder to open you up for him, the wet sounds of your pussy accompanying the fluid snap of his hips. His knuckles grip the headboard, turning white while he pins you underneath him, unable to take his eyes off the way your tits bounce with every thrust. His hands grip at your ass, every jerk of his hips an excuse to hold you tighter, until he can see your skin redden underneath his fingers. 

“Oh my god, Hoseok, I can’t–, it’s too much,” you groan, rocking against him in an attempt to quell the sparks underneath your skin, lighting you up like a livewire.

“Come for me,” he grunts, trapping your clit in between his fingers, rubbing tight circles until you snap, seeking his lips once again, your orgasm flooding your entire body like a wave. Hoseok speeds up his thrusts to join you, roaring when he feels himself explode, before slumping against you, chest heaving with the weight of his breaths. 

Moments pass like this, him remaining inside you while he burrows into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your damp skin. Eventually he pulls out of you with a soft whine, brushing away the sweat-soaked strands of hair at your temple, before rising. 

You trap his wrist in your hand, panic settling in. He watches your expression change and immediately stiffens, cradling you against his chest.

“That expression you always talk about, the flood. I-, I looked it up. And I know the life I have isn’t ideal, and maybe things will only get harder, but I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I don’t want to live out the rest of my life not caring anymore.”

“Do you know what I was thinking of that night, looking at the wave?” you mumble in his ear, and he gazes at you inquisitively, watching the way your skin glows under the moonlight as you take a breath.

“My whole life, people have forced me into this box, this image, of someone they want me to be – the perfect daughter, the perfect wife. It’s been suffocating. All I wanted that night was a taste of freedom - that feeling of happiness you have on a beach, feeling the waves crash at your feet. And then I saw you.”

Hoseok leaves a kiss in your hair, his fingers intertwining with yours. Briefly, his heart drops at the absence of the ring he’d given you on your finger, but he knows when you’re ready, it’ll be waiting for you. He’ll be waiting for you. And the two of you will step into the flood, together. 

a/n pt. 2:  Okay long ending note here. First, please visualize this Hoseok with the undercut ;) Second, I don't normally say this but the writer's block really got me good with this one, so I apologize if it's not up to my usual standards (pls be kind tho). And third and last, this fic definitely would never exist if it weren't for the wonderful Guarded series by Ana (@xjoonchildx). I think about it more than is necessary and this is definitely my tribute to the impeccable Captain Jung.

As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be removed): @jalexad @secfir @hobi-love @back2bluesidex @temptingempress

#bts #bangtanbathhouse #micdropnet #kvanity #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts au #bts imagines #bts fic #bts fanfic #hoseok #jung hoseok #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #j hope #jhope #j hope x reader #jhope x reader #hoseok smut #j hope smut #jhope smut #hoseok angst #hoseok imagine #j hope angst #j hope imagine #hoseok fic #j hope fic #jhope angst

[just-an-enby-lemon]

After a small eternity. I'm finally making my OC infodump I told @girlbossgoroakechi I would do. I'm really sorry for taking forever I was organazing my thoughs and when I finally did it Icollege started to really take my time.

Anyway. Let's talk about Dante.

Dante is one of the protagonists of a superhero series that exists only in my mind. Before his appearance and even after he is always mentioned by people who don't know him personally as this powerfull misterious shady genius that can answer any question and provide any information for a price and later as the guy who revolutionized magic. In reality he is mostly a depressed anxious queer guy that really just wants to play bass in his garage band, has max carisma but zero people skills and is a huge dork.

He didn't had the best life. His parents were very conservative and abusive with him and his older sister and as he was queer and neurodivergent he got the worst part of it all. His older sister mostly only was punished when she tried to protect him. And since he lived in a small religious conservative town his bad name as the weird kid spread. Most parents didn't want his kids hanging with him and most kids bullied him (and whoever decided to try befriend him wich of course made him think he hurted anyone who got close). As he grew his friends were the few people on the town that were also seing as weird. The blind old man who lived on the edge of town and whose late wife read tarot cards, the brown jewish woman kids called a wich but was kind and smart and really funny and also maybe the best cookies, her son who was his first crush, the town's prostitute, the uncle with down syndrome who worked as a cashier and teached him to play guitar, the openly gay teen who gave him a bass because he knew to play the guitar and it was similar and his high school band didn't had a bass player, the muslin family specially their twin kids and of course his sister who followed the normacy rules but was tolerant and kind and accepted everyone. This were his people. Wich of course meant his parents sended him to a far away nun school the moment they got the chance because the family name.

School was bad enough and when his second crush and best friend comited suicide in his second year. His sister gave him a bass for his birthday and on his junior year he just packed his things and went away. He was a genius. Got things to quick for his own good and had no emotional inteligence so he was always in trouble. He teached himself to fix cars and radios and computers. To do compurter programs, to hack and manipulate and trick. The best ways to find information and do research all to make some money to survive.

He got the attention of a local mob boss. In a world of heros and villains information is gold and soon he evolved from an annoyance to a treat and from a danger to an asset. He was more ethic in his early days. Trying to help heros and good people. But he still got catch in a bust and he was a easy pray. He was arrested and placed on a female prison to his despair but thanks to his habilities with information and carisma he was doing alright. But he bonded to his young cellmate. And by trying to defend them went to solitary. Now solitary is torture. But is extra bad for someone with mental health issues. He broke. If that was the price of caring he was done with playing it.

He escaped in the first change he had after he was out of solitary. He started selling any information to anyone who payed high enough. He prefered favours and new information to money.

Now when I saw heros I mean hero. At this point there is only one vigilante around. Shadowcast. And while he doesn't kill he doesn't care if the criminals end up dying in the hospital. He hates crime, barely believes in rehabilitation and works ALONE. He refused help and activaly stoped any possible ally/other hero around. Including some important charscthers like one of the other protagonists a black trans lesbian named Kenya who used to be a rather famous stunt artist and martial artisit before transitioning and now is a karate/self defense teacher who teachs poor kids for free and during one of the movies discovered that her mother helped a weird creature during the pregnancy and the whole story about how she survived the dificult pregnancy was thanks to the creature that also gave her fire powers, a non-binary latine speedester who got his powers thanks to a lab accident and a flirty jornalist by day art thief by night (she actually gives stolen artifacts back to the people it should always belong to). Dante and him worked together sometimes. But is easy to see why Dante ended up closer to the villains side of the story.

It was thanks to them that he discovered magic. A whole powerfully wolrd hidden from most people and that he apparently belonged to. He learned some spells and to potions but wasn't the best. That being said one of the best magicians a moraly gray young man who wsnted to know everything about magic by some dubious means if need and definitve villain was also his first long term relationship. He and Miles were barely adults and while they weren't abusive and loved each other a lot they weren't a healthy relationship either. The good moments were the best moments but the bad moments were the worst and they had a pretty bad break up after almost five years together (they do reconcile way later when older and with way more experience and become best friends and than lovers but it takes a while). That meant he was more villain than hero. During this years he also started taking T and did bottom and top surgery.

He ended up in jail again at his late twenties. Although he got into supervillain jail and this prison was not divided by gender. He stayed there for a year and a half. At this point he was stsrting to feel burned out. He had never expected to leave past his 20s but now with twenty-eigth getting to 30 was becaming a ream possibility. He got out of jail for good behavior around the time the reason for the stories start.

Shawdowcast misteriously disapeared and his adoptive baby brother (though people don't know the connection) not only discovered his brother was a hero but got the mantle (though he would slowly evoulve to his own hero called Nightingale. Kellar- the new hero - is vastly different from his brother, he is unprepared, falls a lot and jokes even more but he learns quickly, is actually a good fighter, cares way more, believes in people and that villains can change and more importantly does not work alone, he incetivazes the people his brother casted away to help him, to also become heros and team up and offer new perspectives and he is also really open to new heros).

So Dante is back and purposiless. Miles disapeared of the face of earth since the break up almost four years ago. Without many options he decides to look for his sister and try to recover their relationship. Thing is his sister was recently victim of a misterious crime and is on a coma. Now that he is legally not a criminal that means he is the next of kin to his niece (June).A feroucious pre-teen who wants to become a vigilante. So he is raising his niece (and basically raising her best friend because his parents don't care), after giving up on stopoing her trying to make sure she doesn't die on her new "past-time job". He has enough money for a simple life and does keep his information act but only if they really need cash and is trying to just take his meds, find a therapist and deal with all this bottled up mental health issues that are finally manifesting. And that is when his niece finds his old bass on her mother stuff and asks him to teach her. He does. And he finds that he never felt better than when playing. He rediscovers his pashion.

Not long after on their small hero gig (that soon involves his niece best friend, the girl his niece has a crush on and this girl older brother and suddently he has two kids and two half-ish kids because the other two have good avaliable parents wich on the bad side means he now has parents to bond with) they discover that the reason that May (his sister) is still on a coma is because is a magical coma. So he has to go back to magic. And he isn't good at it. Until one day he is too tired and he decides to play a bit to calm down and suddently the music appears like a language and just makes sense and as he slowly realizes that for magical people an activity they are emotionaly conected to can bring the most magic if they know how to apply it and reads a bunch of tomes he invents bardling. And he suddently becames really good a magic because now he is making it in a way that makese sense for him. He also teaches his niece but hers manifets as combat magic mostly.

Only after they brought his sister back and he is teaching his new magic sometimes, living with them and doing a bit better is that they end up in a waay bigger mess and get in the same story as the rest of the hero gang. Who are all sorta shocked and disapointed that the misterious legendary oracle they were hearing about is just a short insominiac that doesn't know when to speak and when to shut up and got lost at the mail because he got distracted by a sudden wish to learn to play the flute and suddently was alone in an instrument store and as he buyed the flute and got out was very overwhelmed by the noise and touch and lights and people.

He gets to do a lot of other stuff. Like adopting a five year old girl that is super cute and sweet and also an eldrish creature and also a normal teen who is his's niece best friend. Playing spy for the heros more than once. Getting back to his ex. Making the life of his ex abusive ex-boyfriend hell. Comiting lots of arson. Playing games. Just a bunch of things.

#i don't know if his personality got through #but i hope it did #his arc is in a lot of points of him relearning to care #about how he used to care soo much about people and had it beaten out of him and know is getting it back #he is very sarcastic #he has a lot of sensory issues #like a lot #his time in solitary only made it worse #he is afraid of darkness because of it #he loves indie games #oc #meet my ocs

[grewlikefancyflowers]

‘Intrusion’ extra, what it says about Jiang Cheng’s role in MDZS, and how Wei Wuxian looks back on his past with the Jiangs

I said back in like June that I’d write meta on this and then put it off for a few months, oops! Here we are, finally!

First things first, both the ‘Intrusion’ and ‘Iron Hook’ extras are not just silly romps featuring married wangxian and fanservice, as some people seem to believe?? I’d say both of them clear up pretty neatly, for those that are still confused, points of contention in the fandom - such as Wei Wuxian’s heroism, and Jiang Cheng’s role as an antagonist. Specifically, if his actions were justified or sympathetic, and if he was punished unfairly by the narrative.

The first and most obvious statement made in ‘Intrusion’ is the parallel between the story of Young Master Qin (YMQ), and JC and WWX’s youths. I’ll summarise quickly the relationship between YMQ and the fierce corpse that has been bothering him.

They grew up together in YMQ’s grandmother’s house, since they were a similar age they played together

The fierce corpse (FC) was a servant in YMQ’s grandmother’s household

The grandmother took a liking to FC, and he was in some ways treated less like a servant, and more like a member of their clan, and was allowed to attend school with the other boys

YMQ specifically notes that his grandmother used to praise FC a lot

YMQ describes a story at the school in which someone answered a question, and FC incorrectly claimed he answered wrongly. When FC pushed the matter, the other students became annoyed and drove him out of the class

It is very heavily implied (to the point where ‘implied’ isn’t really the right word) that ‘someone’ was YMQ, that he had actually answered the question wrongly, and that he felt shown up by someone he felt should be below him proving so, and that he led the other boys in driving FC away

FC left the school and didn’t attend again

I probably don’t need to lay out where the similarities are…?

In response to YMQ’s story, Wei Wuxian (rhetorically) says this - ‘“Regarding the solution to that problem, in the end, who was right and who was wrong?”’

Aside from just exposing the kind of person YMQ is, in reference to a story wherein ‘FC’ is clearly a stand in for WWX, and YMQ for JC, MXTX’s decision to highlight specifically that it was FC that had the right solution to the problem is not insignificant. Nor how she specifies that he was the instigator of FC’s expulsion, while hiding behind the mob mentality of the other students.

Another interesting detail is that YMQ deliberately obscures the truth throughout the chapter, because despite his refusal to acknowledge it, possibly even to himself, he knows that between him and FC he is the one in the wrong. Similarly, JC obscures the truth about WWX, to the wider cultivation world during the period of WWX’s ‘downfall,’ (Ch.73) but also, more importantly, to JL after WWX’s death. JL believes that WWX ordered WN to kill both JZX and JYL (Ch.42). Of course, if JC did not have a guilty conscience, he would not feel it necessary to lie about these things. Or rather, convince himself that they are true, as he still blames WWX for the deaths of his parents’ and JYL and the end of the story (Ch.102).

YMQ’s attitude about servants is bad enough that it upsets Sizhui quite a lot, and shortly after their interaction with him, we have this exchange between LSZ and Wangxian.

‘Lan SiZhui thought about it, “I do not know either.” He responded with honesty, “He never did anything truly evil, but perhaps I find it difficult to deal with people of such character. I do not particularly like the tone with which he mentioned the word ‘servant’…”

He paused at this point. Wei WuXian was oblivious to it, “Typical, typical. Most of the people in this world looks down upon servants. Servants sometimes even look down upon themselves… Why are you two looking at me like that?”

Halfway through, he interrupted, not knowing whether to laugh or frown, “Stop—is there a misunderstanding here? How could I compare? Lotus Pier isn’t the usual household, after all. I’ve beaten Jiang Cheng up way more times than he’s ever beaten me!”

Lan WangJi didn’t say anything, but instead gave him a silent hug. Wei WuXian couldn’t help but smiled. He hugged back, stroking Lan WangJi’s back a couple of times. Lan SiZhui coughed. Seeing how confident Wei WuXian looked, not at all sensitive to the word ‘servant’, he was finally at ease.’

There’s a lot going on here...

Firstly, WWX definitely does not think badly of himself because his father was a servant, because WWX doesn’t think badly of servants. It is also true that Lotus Pier wasn’t so strict with hierarchy as other sects (Ch.51, Ch.71), and that WWX and JC sometimes playfully fought on equal terms in their youths. But WWX was also very clearly treated badly in the Jiang household due to his status, notably by YZY (Ch.51, Ch.56, Ch.57, Lotus Seed Pod extra), JC does also repeatedly enact real physical violence against WWX, that he simply brushes off (Ch.56, Ch.59). You could argue that the example from Ch.59 is under extenuating circumstances and therefore should not count, but the same excuse cannot apply to Ch.56.

Knowing this, Lan Wangji’s response to this, to hug WWX, does not feel casual at all. Instead it comes across as if he is offering comfort, which WWX accepts.

Finally, this exchange finishes with ‘Seeing how confident Wei WuXian looked, not at all sensitive to the word ‘servant’, he [LSZ] was finally at ease.’ To me, this seems to suggest that the entire purpose of this was not at all reader directed exposition about how good and equal the Jiang household was, but rather a WWX-typical veneer meant to appease LSZ’s concerns (taking a moment to quietly fangirl about how good MXTX is at ‘show, don’t tell’). Also suggests that WWX is aware on some level that he was treated badly, and LWJ is too - presumably, it is something that they have spoken about.

Continuing with the story of YMQ and FC…

YMQ returns to his home village as an adult wearing a jade pendant that belonged to his now deceased grandmother

FC asks to borrow it, YMQ allows it, thinking FC is missing his grandmother

FC returns telling him he has lost the pendant, YMQ thinks he has actually sold it, and has him beaten, it is very heavily implied that he breaks his leg

In the present, YMQ admits that he doesn’t actually think FC would have gone so far as to sell something of his grandmother’s

This is reflective of JC’s attitude towards WWX throughout his life, with regards to how he frequently comes to the worst conclusions about him, without having any real evidence, and lashes out at him for it. I spoke about this a bit before here. Most notable example is probably during their conversation in the demon-slaughtering cave wherein they discuss WWX’s defection, and JC decides that WWX is acting carelessly and playing the hero, though admits himself that WWX is following the Jiang Sect’s teachings, then declares WWX an enemy of the cultivation world behind his back.

The ambiguity of FC’s death, and YMQ’s role in it discussed in part 3 of the extra is referencing WWX’s own death, and JC’s role in it. In the end the conclusion is that whether or not YMQ was responsible, FC did not hold him to it.

In the end, FC is content to simply throw some fruit, and punch YMQ in the face in vengeance for his death, and even goes out of his way to avoid hurting LSZ when he is fighting him. He returns the jade pendant, that he really did lose and not steal, and goes back to resting peacefully.

WWX, LWJ, and LSZ’s views on YMQ’s fate are as follows

‘Lan WangJi gently tugged Lil’ Apple’s rein, his voice calm, “He was fortunate.”

Wei WuXian agreed, “Indeed. Young Master Qin has got quite the luck.”

After some time, Lan SiZhui finally couldn’t hold his words back any longer. Sincerely, he spoke, “But I still feel that only one punch might be a bit insufficient…”’

JC didn’t even get a punch to the face. I’d say he got off very lightly indeed.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #jiang cheng #jc wank #wei wuxian

[lubdubsworld]

The Devil’s Own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.) 

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things. 

Chapter 1

“ Sign it. ”

I glared at him, feeling sick at the tone. The entitlement.

“No.” I said sharply and I could feel his anger swelling, morphing into something dangerous and deadly but I couldn’t care anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. This cat and mouse game had gone on , long enough. It wasn’t an even playing field, in any sense of the qword.

If today was the day I died, so be it. I would accept it. I would even welcome it.

I was done.

He had everything : an empire at his beck and call , enough money to pave the streets of Seoul in gold and an army of loyal associates behind him. His face was plastered on Billboards across the country , the President posted pictures of him on his fucking SNS and delegates from other countries had to wait weeks , just to get an appointment with the youngest billionaire South Korea had ever seen.

And yet none of those white collared dignitaries saw this side of him. The dirty, violent ruthless man who had more blood on his hands than anyone else in the country. My father’s. My brothers’.

Jeon Jungkook was both the most revered business man in the country and the undisputed king of Seoul’s criminal underbelly.

“You defiance only makes me want to break you in other ways Elena.” He said warningly and I felt my throat go dry. I stared at him, wondering how someone could look so expensively gorgeous and yet, like a hardened criminal.

The expensive silk shirt, the fitted slacks and the handmade shoes ought to clash with the dark ink that covered his entire arm and neck, the piercing on his eyebrow and the glint of metal on his tongue but it didn’t.

It just all came together to make him the most attractive man in existence.

I took a deep breath. Perhaps begging was the way to go?

“ You have my father’s company. You have my brother’s Hospital and you have the family mansion. It’s all yours. This bakery belongs to my mother. It’s all I have left of her. My sister in law is pregnant , due any day. She needs a place to stay and I don’t… I don’t have money to rent anywhere else.” I said desperately, thinking of the paltry wage I earned waiting tables. I could barely afford food for myself let alone for Jisoo and the baby on the way.

The bakery was abandoned but it had a roof. The furniture was crumbling but I could fix that. If I didn’t have to worry about rent, I could save up enough to make it livable. At least till I got a better job.

“I’ve offered you solutions for all of that.” He reminded me softly, eyes trained unblinkingly on me and I stared at him.

“I’m not going to be your whore.” I felt my voice shake.

He grimaced.

“You aren’t qualified to be my whore. And I don’t need one either. Whores are not my thing. I have a beautiful fiancée, don’t you remember? ” He grinned. I felt my heart ache because that fiancée was once my best friend. The only person I had trusted with my entire life. Lisa had betrayed my trust, had spied on my father’s operations and brought him down and I had the horrible, horrible inkling that she had also had something to do with my father and brother’s untimely death in a car crash.

But I couldn’t think about that. Every time I thought about her my heart broke and head spun, and I had to be at my maximum mental capacity if I was going to deal with her heartless fiancée.

“ If you ask me, you’re not fit for anything more than a back alley blowjob for a couple bucks. But Hoseok thinks you have potential. Join his agency, there are a lot of very wealthy men who have a bone to pick with your father. He made a shit ton of enemies. Most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of you. ”

His words felt like worms crawling all over my skin and I could feel the nausea churn inside me.

“I’m not signing the bakery over. You can call the creditors. I still have another year and half to pay the one remaining loan and they won’t come for me till then.” I felt my head begin to throb and Jungkook sighed.

“Suit yourself.” He stood up and I stayed still, watching his tall frame tower over me with ease. He gave me a small bitter smile. It was fraught with hatred and I stared back at him, knowing the emotion was probably mirrored in my gaze.

“Beautiful Elena. As pretty as the day you left me at the altar.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Your vengeance is petty and pointless and unfair…just like you.” I said angrily, frustration building u at his words. The way he talked about our broken engagement like it even mattered. It hadn’t even been real. We had hardly spoken and my father had called the wedding off at the last moment. But apparently, that had been the last straw for the Jeons. They had come after my father’s entire existence with a single minded intent to destroy him and they had succeeded. The man was dead . His two sons were dead.

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook stared at me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe. But it’s also deadly and potent. And it won’t rest until I see you reduced to nothing but a whore on the streets, spreading your legs for every man who can afford you.” He laughed. “ Saying no is a luxury , one that you’ll soon be unable to afford.”

I refused to be cowed, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words scared me. Because they did.

They scared me so damn much.

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

“This bed is so lumpy… I’m so sorry, unnie..” I said apologetically but Jisoo shook her head quickly, palms cupping my face as I held her elbows, gently lowering her to the bed. I stared at her feet, feeling my heart race at how swollen they looked. That can’t be normal, a voice whispered and

I didn’t know if that was normal and I had no money to take her to a clinic. The social center we usually went to only allowed three visits per month and we had used it all up. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the thirty thousand won it would take but that would mean no groceries for a week and surely bread and eggs wouldn’t stretch that long, even if I could sneak meals in the restaurant for myself.

“I’ve been feeling a little dizzy…I’ll just sleep.” She said tiredly. She was thirty six weeks along, not due for another four weeks but her blood pressure was erratic. Her lab numbers were oscillating and there had been talks of an emergency c section. Even with insurance it was way more than I could afford but I had my own jewelry, a few expensive trinkets from my teenage years. I’d been obsessed with diamonds and my father had indulged me and I had a pair of earrings left. I’d already sold the rest but this would take care of the medical bills for the birth itself.

“My shift starts in ten minutes. I have to go. Give me a call if you need anything…” I said softly and I saw the familiar blank and listless look come into her eyes. I knew she was depressed, dealing with grief and pregnancy and loss but there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing. I had applied for a bunch of other jobs but they never wrote back. It wasn’t easy, being rejected over and over again but it wasn’t like there was much else I could do. And the truth was I was resigned to this, accepted that at some point I would have to take more loans and be stuck in an endless cycle of debt for the rest of my life.

And I had made peace with that.

There was no future for me. And I was okay with just surviving.

If only Jungkook would let me.

Apparently, watching me wipe down greasy tables and mop up floors and toilets trying to earn just enough to get a few square meals didn’t soothe his anger. It only fueled it. Jungkook couldn’t fathom that it had been six whole months of me on the streets of Seoul and I wasn’t completely destitute yet. I’d kept myself and my sister in law alive, safe and it pissed him off.

He wanted to see me broken and on my knees, begging him for help. The idea of me somehow surviving despite him taking everything away from me, it just didn’t sit well with him.

I couldn’t afford to have him as an enemy so all I could really hope was that one day he would wake up and give up. One day he would just wake up and decide that I wasn’t worth it.

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

When I walked into my shift and noticed a familiar pair of high heeled Louboutins , completely out of place in my seedy place of employment, I knew I was in trouble. Lisa sat against one of the booths and her gaze was fixated on the door which meant she was waiting for someone. And when her eyes narrowed at the sight of me, I just knew I was the someone.

She wants to get me fired.

It wasn’t rocket science and I felt the urge to turn right back around and leave.  But I tamped down on it. I could get through this. I would get through this. Lisa and Jungkook got off on invoking reactions and I wouldn’t give them that.

Except it wasn’t that easy.

It was a nightmare, watching her demand and reject and walk all over me but the sleeplessness from the past few days made spacing out easier and I just stared away at the wall as she yelled and complained and made a scene.

“You’ve stopped fighting? Finally giving up? Good…” She hissed when the manager apologized to her and told me to meet him after my shift and I felt myself tremble in indignation.

“I won’t fight you or Jungkook, you and I both know I can’t afford to.” I said quietly and she went still, something flashing in her eyes for a second. It was gone before I could fully process it but it had been there. Guilt.

Lisa wasn’t a terrible human. She had been a dear friend. We had grown up together and she had even hugged and teased me when I’d been betrothed to Jungkook, all those years ago. I had been twenty back then, naïve and spoiled. While Jungkook had taken my father’s entire legacy apart, piece by piece, Lisa had been nothing more than a pawn. I remembered all the times I had let her home, how she would disappear for lengths of time.

Planting bugs all over the house. All over his office. Jungkook had been smart. Someone like Lisa, so fascinated by thr wealth she had grown up around would naturally jump at the idea of more. It wasn’t greed. It was human nature. And with her help he had destroyed everything my father had built over decades.

I shuddered. My father hadn’t been a good man. He had been greedy, yes. But he hadn’t deserved to die. And Jungkook would have to pay for that sin, someday.

“There’s a job waiting for you in Hoseok’s club.” She smiled cruelly , “ you don’t need this one.”

“The fact that you want to take it away from me, tells me that maybe there’s nothing left in you save.” I said blankly and she turned her nose up at me.

“I have Jungkook. I don’t need to be saved.”

I shook my head. She was so naïve. Men like Jungkook cared for nothing but themselves. But I wondered if women like her didn’t care for anything but the money that came with being his. Money was precious, I thought bitterly. I’d never realized how privileged I had been until I’d had it all ripped away.

“He’s the one you need saving from. And one day you’ll realize that.” I shrugged, not in the mood to offer her anymore life advice.  If she was alright with being a trophy wife in exchange for a few pretty shoes that was her prerogative.

Before she could reply,  my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked nervously and I felt my heart drop to my knees when I heard who it was.

I turned on my heel rushing inside and my manager gave me a look of surprise.

“ My sister..she’s… she’s sick. I need to go.” I said desperately and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst timing. He was already annoyed because of Lisa and I stared in disbelief as he quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry Elena…I just can’t let you leave like that…” He said sharply.

It was so unfair.

“I haven’t taken a single day off in five months…” I said desperately..” Please, she’s pregnant..She needs me, she-“

“If you leave, you won’t have a job to come back to. I can’t do this.. First you make trouble with a customer and now you just want to walk out in the middle of your shift without any notice…”

“Fine. Fire me.” I snapped, because I’d just had enough of it. I was exhausted, and tomorrow I’d go knocking on some other tore and I’d get a job. I lived in Seoul …How hard could it be? For now, I had to get to Jisoo. I had to get the hospital and things would be okay.

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

It wasn’t okay.

“I… You want to keep her in? So soon?”

“Her blood pressure is through the roof. There are signs of severe pre eclampsia and we want to get her started on a magnesium drip. Steroids to help the baby’s lungs incase we need to deliver…”

“Deliver..?” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, I’m sorry…. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down we’re going to have to deliver.”

I nodded, glancing at the bed where Jisoo was sleeping, her face swollen and I knew that she was sick. Really sick. She looked pallid and ill.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked hoarsely.

“We’re going to do what we can… But I’m going to be honest, we’re looking at a c section, a lot of meds and also some time in the NICU for the baby…. Can you afford it? Your sister’s insurance only covers 80% .”

I blinked, completely thrown. White noise rushed through my ears,  a dull throb settling right at the base of my skull and beginning to spread all the way to my arms and back. It was panic mixed wth anxiety mixed with despair and I couldn’t quite cope. The earrings wouldn’t cover all that.

“Oh… Oh..yeah.” I said dully, “ Of course I can… Let me just…. Can I have a moment? There’s somethings I need to do.”

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

I carefully slipped the cash into the envelope, swallowing as I sat on the pavement. I’d got another call from the hospital, they had administered the steroids but Jisoo’s condition seemed to be worsening. They wanted to try inducing labour soon but they wanted me to pay for the room and for the medicines, and apparently, the earrings weren’t as valuable as I thought they were.

I fought nausea wrapping arms around myself as I stared at the cars whizzing by, the putrid city air clogging my lungs as I tried to come to terms with what was happening. Jisoo needed help. She was the only one left and she carried my brother’s son. I felt my throat clog when I thought of Daehwan. He had been a good guy. I had loved him. It wasn’t fair, what Jungkook had done to my family, I thought miserably .

And the only reason I wasn’t driven by vengeance or anger was because I was nothing like Jungkook. I hated him. I didn’t want him to live in my head, didn’t want to waste any part of myself on him , not even my anger. But it was hard when he wouldn’t let me breathe, always at my heels like a wolf : jaws snapping and blood thirsty eyes trained on me at all times. I couldn’t fathom his obsession sometimes. Surely, his hatred was uncalled for now? He’d taken everything from me anyway.  

There was a dull roaring in my ears, one that said that this was not really a surprise. I’d thought about it way too often, had considered it countless times. Had even spent one absolutely horrifying evening scouring the streets of Seoul’s red light district just to see how sex workers behaved.

I’d also realized that in the face of desperation, dignity didn’t hold much value.

You are going to pay your debts on your back and on your knees.

The first time Jungkook had thrown it at my face, eyes glinting with glee, my stomach had rebelled so hard. I’d been absolutely infuriated, had thrown a vase at him. And it had been awful,  watching him catch it out of the air with ease, his mocking laughter making my bones rattle as he shook his head, “ That’s how this ends, Elena. Mark my words.”

And it was pitiful ,  that he went through life so consumed with hatred and vindictive cruelty that he couldn’t leave me alone . He was pathetic. That’s how I saw him. A pathetic child who refused to stop tormenting the helpless ant on the floor although it was no match for his cruelty.

At some point Jungkook was going to win. And his idea of winning was seeing me stripped bare of the one thing that kept me alive : my freedom.

It had just happened sooner than I’d thought.

Because I knew what it would mean, to go to Hoseok. He would own me. Hoseok’s whores were all slaves, tangled in his web so badly that there was no hope of escape. He wasn’t cruel but he was smart. No one left the his ‘ agency’ once they went in. I would be lost, forever. And I couldn’t stomach it.

I stared at my knees, fists clenched on the fabric of my skirt. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. I considered it carefully. I had to do this on my terms. Had to make sure I retained some sort of control here.

And I knew just how to do it.

Hoseok picked up on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“I need help.” I croaked out.

The deep chuckle made my skin crawl.

“Elena Gong. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise. What can I do you for?” He drawled.

“Well sweetheart, I’m all out of charity so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m a virgin.” I whispered.

The line went completely silent.

“What?” The amusement in his voice died.

“You heard me and I’ll let you cash in on it. I’ll let you auction it off…” I tamped down on the burning protest in my lung, the screaming inside my head that said it was horrifying, that I was considering this. “ But only if you keep my terms.”

“What makes you think you have a say in that.” He said sharply and I laughed.

“I belong to your world, Hoseok. Did you forget that we were friends, once.” I whispered and he didn’t reply.

Laughter, kindness, a big brother I could always count on, hobi oppa, nine year old me with my fingers curled around his wrist as we ran all around the gardens , a smile so wide that he could spread sunshine on the gloomiest days. Different from Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi and the others. Willing to include a ‘ girl’ in his playtime. Lisa and I the only girls, not even fazed watching as the rest of them wielded toy guns and mock interrogation scenes, pretending to kill and maim and torture because that was the world we were born into.

“We’re not friends, Elena. Let’s get that straight. The only part of you that holds any value to me is th part between your legs. So tell me, what do you want.”

“When was the last time you auctioned off someone’s virginity? You know how much money you can make off something like that. Not just from the sale itself but from the entire night. Your club… Your gaming hell…. All of it.”

“You expect me to believe you’re a virgin. At twenty seven.” He scoffed.

“Put the word out, everywhere. If you find one man who says he’s slept with me , I’ll back off.”

“That would require me to tarnish your  family name. And you’re alright with that?”

I smiled biotterly.

“Isn’t that what you and your precious Jungkookie want? To see the last living Gong, be labeled as a whore and a slut.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’ll give you that. You can do it… You know that will only interest more people. As Jungkook so eloquently put it, most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of me.”

“What’s the catch. What do you want. ”

“2 billion won.”  I said firmly “It will be one night. One night only and I want enough money to pay off every one of my father’s debts, to get me an apartment for my sister in law and to support her and her baby for a year at least.”

“Done.” He said without missing a beat and I went still. What must it be like, to throw around money like that without a care in the world. And it sickened me that Jungkook was probably ten times as rich as Hoseok , the money my father owed him and his associates not even pocket change in comparison to his gargantuan wealth and yet, he stayed on my heels, snapping his jaws like a dog with a bone.

“And Jungkook doesn’t get to watch.” I said softly, knowing exactly what Jungkook would get off on.

That made Hoseok laugh.

“You know him too well. I keep forgetting he was madly in love with you once.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. Jungkook didn’t know love. He knew ownership. He didn’t love me, he thought he owned me. That I was his to play with…. For the rest of his life. And when my father had denied him that, just like a toddler in a toy store being denied a shiny toy to break and trample on, he had thrown a temper tantrum.

Except his tantrums always ended in death and destruction.

“That’s the deal. He doesn’t turn up there to gloat.”

“He’s heading out to Switzerland for a week , two days from now.” Hoseok said evenly.

“Good then. My sister in law…she “ I swallowed. “ She’s in a hospital in Yongsan. I’ll send you the address.”  

“I’ll take care of it. But I want you here tonight. I’m not going to drop a couple billion won on your head without making sure I’m getting my money’s worth. And I can’t have you changing your mind and bolting either. My reputation is on the line here. If I put out the word that I’m serving something so fucking delicious and then back out, they’re not going to want to buy Hobi’s wares anymore. You understand what I’m saying darling?” Hoseok drawled and I knew exactly what he was saying. If I agreed to this, it was blanket consent for him to whatever he wanted.

“I won’t back out. I can’t. But this is one night. One night with whichever bastard you choose and that’s it. I want out.  I don’t want you or Jungkook hounding me again. Ever.” My voice shook as I dug my fingers into my knees.  

“My men will be there in ten minutes. Sit tight, princess.”

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

I stared at Hoseok as he carefully poured me a finger of whiskey, neat. He gave me a smirk and I shrugged.

“you remember.” I said casually, throat itching because it had been way too long since I’d had quality alcohol. I missed the burn,  the warmth , the numbness that followed.

“Of course I do. You could drink all of us under the table with little effort. It was spectacular.” He laughed and I leaned back against the couch, letting my head fall back.

“I was half certain that you would have a doctor around to make sure I’m a virgin.” I stared at him and he shrugged. “ Pointless. You’re twenty seven, you’ve probably had stuff up there anyway… Not like your hymen’s still going to be intact.”

I thought it was rather horrifying, that I didn’t feel nearly as mortified as I should. This was how Hoseok talked, matter of fact and open and that was why he was so popular. Anytime an important person came into the country, Hobi was the one who offered entertainment for the night. Hobi’s girls were always the prettiest, most well behaved and perfect. They were educated, knew what they were talking about and he didn’t force them into the life. They loved it, enjoyed it and it showed.

Not to say he was a saint.

Far from it.

Hoseok knew how to dine with kings in castles  but also how to wrestle with  swine in the gutter. The seedy brothels in Seoul’s back alleys were his as well, and he ruled his kingdom with an iron hand. The prostitutes there feared him, one look or word enough to silence any rebellion, any thought of escape.

He was called Hope. And yet somehow that was exactly what he denied the women under him. There was no hope here. There was only lust and power and money. You came to Hobi…. You never left .

I took the glass he offered, taking a small sip, savoring the taste.

“But you believe me. I wonder why.” I watched him closely and he scoffed.

“Between your father and Jungkook, no one ever really had the pluck to come anywhere near you  did they?”

Undisputable.

I sighed, leaning back to stare at him.

“Do you think dying hurts?” I asked softly.

It was frightening, how his entire body went stiff, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“Elena, what the fuck-“

“Its just a question. You’ve killed people. You’ve watched them die… how do you think they feel?” I asked , curious.

“None of them wanted to die. If that’s what you’re asking.” The look in his eyes made me nervous.

I stared at him and the question was obvious. None of them wanted to die, but do you?

I didn’t.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself , oppa.  Stop looking so horrified.” I laughed. He shook his head.

“ Don’t joke about that. It’s not fucking funny.”

I sobered up, remembering with a jolt. Ah, of course.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said quietly.

Hoseok’s little sister had killed herself when I was seventeen. She was a year older than me and her father had lost her in a wager to a seventy year old man, known for torturing his bedmates. She had heard the news, taken a deep breath and taken a deep dive off the seventeeth floor of the condo where she lived with her mother.

I’d been engaged to Jungkook by then. And I had almost wanted it. Jungkook wasn’t old at least… twenty one to my seventeen.

“Just so you know, he’s going to find out. And he’s not going to like it.”

I shrugged. Three years is a long time to be preyed upon and now my mind was resigned to a life of being hunted. Hoseok was right. Jungkook would find out and he wouldn’t like it.

Good.

“I don’t care what he does anymore. All I care is that Jisoo and the baby are left out of whatever plans he has…. If you promise me you’ll keep them safe , I’ll cooperate.”

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

It was a baby boy.

I stared, fingers itching to hold the baby but it was impossible, the little one whisked away to the NICU right after with respiratory distress and Jisoo had gone into a seizure, eyes rolling back into her eyes.

She as alright now, resting in a VIP room with the best care money could buy. Hoseok had asked me if I was happy with the arrangements, and if I would name the boy after him.

I stared at the room, large and breezy and filled with flowers and gifts, toys and baby stuff and I knew right then that I had sealed my fate. I was going to have to go through with this. I could imagine how much Jisoo would protest when she came to her senses. The only relief was that it would take her a few days to be good enough to fight or protest. But then this would all be over and done with.

Jungkook would leave this afternoon. His flight was at three.

I would reach the club at five. The patrons would arrive at seven.

One night, I reminded myself , staring at the gentle rise and fall of Jisoo’s chest as she slept, my fingers playing with the soft skin on her wrist. The IV line went through her veins and I watched the gentle drip of it.

One night.

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

I didn’t know how auctions happened and while I’d been prepared for the worst kind of humiliation,  Hoseok assured me that he wasn’t going to make me stand naked on some podium or something.

“Generally, I would do something like that simply for the flair of it but consider this a favor ….a respite because you were, as you said, once a friend.” He gave me an even smile and I could only nod in mute relief.

I was grateful. Beyond grateful.

And what was more, he hadn’t told anyone, who I was.

That stunned me. Because wasn’t that the selling point? The murderous, greedy mob rat Gong Hyo Suk’s only daughter forced to spread her legs for one lucky stranger? If Hoseok had cashed in on that he would have made a fortune. But he hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would , whoever it was be upset if he recognized me?

I was led to a bedroom, large and tastefully decorated with silky satin sheets and dark curtains and dim lighting that lit up parts of the room and left other parts plunged in darkness. Hoseok had told me to wear whatever I wanted and I realized with a pang that he really didn’t see this as some sort of transaction. He was trying to make it as easy as possible without making any decisions for me. Offering me choices and options and some illusion of being in control.

I didn’t have anything fancy so it was just a dress shirt that I borrowed from Hoseok. I’d left the underwear off, eager to merely get the whole thing over with. I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh out loud.

If Jungkook were here he really would have lost his damn mind, simply because of how little this whole thing affected me. And that was it, really. He was always desperate for a reaction.

Earlier when this whole thing had started, I’d obliged him with that. I would scream, rant and yell….launch myself at him like a wildcat, scratching at him , fists flying  and it was obscene, how much he seemed to enjoy that. He would press me up against walls and tables , fingers choking the breath out of my lung, just so he could see me struggle and push back.

He fed off from every negative reaction I offered him and it had taken me a long long time that the way to beat him was to become passive, unresponsive. I would go limp in his arms, stare at him blankly as he tried to manhandle me and that…that had pissed him off. Because that meant I wasn’t playing his game anymore.

If the prey wasn’t playing, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It was drab.

Boring.

And I knew that Jungkook kept raising the stakes, kept tightening the noose around my neck….just to bring that girl out again. The one that had wanted to put up a fight . The one that wanted to mouth off even with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her head. The one who would spit in his face in front of all his associates, even if it earned her a vicious strike of his hand across her face.

I shuddered. They weren’t memories I liked reliving.

Well, if that was who he wanted, I’d make sure he would never see her again.

The door opening made me jump and Hoseok came in , with a wide grin on his face.

“Baby…. Your guest for the night.” He said softly and I peered over his shoulders, my heart and mind grinding to a halt when I caught sight of what had to be the most breathtakingly beautiful man on the face of the planet.

I felt my heart begin to pound, fear taking over because this wasn’t okay. Not really. I was okay with old, creepy and disgusting , not able to get it up for more than ten minutes.

I wasn’t okay with someone who looked like they stepped right out of the latest issue of GQ.

Hoseok left quickly, closing the door behind him and the man stepped into the light, the brightness lighting up his perfect features even more. I felt my throat go dry, and fought the urge to get up and run. Growing up as the daughter of a mobster , I’d learned how to trust my instincts over appearances.

And right now, every single one of those instincts screamed at me that this man was absolutely dangerous.

“Well, you are beautiful. I’ll give you that. “ He said casually.

“Thank you.” I said stiltedly, watching as he tugged on his tie, pulling it off his neck deftly . Instead of tossing it aside , he wrapped it a bunch of times around his wrist over and over as he smiled at me.

“Don’t thank me yet. The only reason I like beautiful things is because of how easily they break.” He smiled.  “ I haven’t been with a virgin in a while…. I miss the screams.”

And there it was the full blown panic that came with stark terror. I crawled back on the bed, staring as he moved closer and there was no mistaking the look on his face, the harsh grip of his hand on my ankle telling me that I was going to regret every one of the choices that led me here.

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

“Hoseok wasn’t at the airport.” Jungkook observed casually, glancing at Yoongi as the latter finished cleaning his gun carefully, eyes fixed on his weapon with utmost concentration.

“He’s holding some sort of auction tonight. Some chick …” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook hummed. It was not the kind of thing he was interested in. Anonymous bids were often boring : actresses or female idols past their prime, desperate to make some money to survive. He had no interest in those but he was a little peeved that Hoseok hadn’t told him anything about it.

Hoseok was one of Jungkook’s most trusted friends. He was almost as powerfully rich as Jungkook and the only reason Jungkook reigned supreme was because Hoseok had no interest in challenging him for the throne. Hoseok was dangerous and cunning and loyal and Jungkook was grateful to have him on his side and he had hoped to see him before leaving. Just to ask him to keep an eye on Elena.

He grimaced, hating himself.

God, he couldn’t go two hours without thinking of her. It fucked with his head, the amount of space she took up inside him. Jungkook , for all his wealth and power, was driven solely by his need to prove himself. He wanted to be powerful and terrifying yes, but more than that , he wanted people to know.

He wanted people to look him in the eye and acknowledge him for what he was : the most dangerous man in the country. He liked seeing that fear, that worship, that admiration. He got off on it. He wanted it , craved it and for some reason he craved it more from her , than anyone else.

And instead of giving him what he wanted, instead of begging on her knees for mercy, instead of licking his shoes and begging for him to let her live….she ignored him. She looked at him with defiance and pride, her chin straight and her back unbending, her gaze locked right on him like she was his fucking equal….

And Jungkook, he’d taken a lot of insults. Taken more than his fair share of hits in life …..

But when she looked at him like that , like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe….

Fuck it drove him wild with fury.

It made him want to teach her a fucking lesson, to remind her that he owned her because he owned everything. To break her down, snuff out the flames of defiance that burned so bright in those ember eyes… Take her into his bed and brand her with his body. Till she was on the floor, on her knees covered in his spit and cum begging for mercy….

Because no one looked at Jeon Jungkook like that and lived to tell the tale..

“Seokjin’s here. Landed in Korea a couple of hours ago. ” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook smiled a bit at that. He loved his older brother, technically a step brother and growing up he had only saw him when he visited his mother in China. That meant a couple of months a year and now as adults,  a bit more often because Seokjin loved Jungkook and liked to visit him often.

Seokjin was a celebrity trainer, working with actors and athletes and he did a good amount of modeling as well. He was rich,  handsome and well liked and the only thing that gave away the Jeon blood in him was the fact that he was a sexual sadist.

The face of an angel with a devilish streak, he had a penchant for sadism and inflicting pain on his partners and while Jungkook didn’t particularly enjoy indulging him, he knew there were women who were into that and usually had them arranged for when Seokjin dropped by in Korea. His hyung’s visit seldom lasted more than a few weeks at a time and it was a pity that he would miss out one whole week of it .

But the issue in Switzerland was a little pressing and Jungkook had to be there in person to sort it out.

He leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window, sighing.

“An unsullied dove ….What the fuck is this shit..” Yoongi muttered and Jungkook turned, curious.

“What?”

“Hoseok’s been hyping up some new girl for the auction and Seokjin hyung’s bidding on her.”

Jungkook laughed at that.

“Jungkook…..” Yoongi’s voice is completely stunned, his eyes confused as he looks up at Jungkook.”  Its Elena.”

Jungkook’s thought process came to a grinding halt.

There’s a sound between his ears, a dull rushing sound like the wind in a storm and he can’t quite comprehend what he just heard. Even Namjoon who had been buried in his laptop , looked up then, tugging an airpod out of his ear.

“Wait…did you say Elena?” His eyes were wide , lips parted in shock. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, no doubt bracing themselves for the explosion that was to follow.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“Turn the fucking plane around.”

That jolted Namjoon out of his stunned stupor..

“Turn-? Jungkook what…. We’re on a fourteen hour flight-“ Namjoon began but the look on Jungkook’s face made him stop.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?”

Namjoon swore.

“Fucking hell… alright just calm the fuck down, Jesus…just put a fucking bullet in that girl’s head and spare us all the headache fuck…” He growled, unbuckling his seat belt and rushing to the cockpit and Yoongi groaned.

“ Let me guess you want me to get in touch with someone in Seoul and ask Hoseok to hold off on letting Seokjin near her…”

Jungkook glared at him.

“If you already know that why the fuck are you still here…” He growled and Yoongi gave him a look.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her and let us live, Jeon Jungkook.”

In love….. what the fuck….

He glared at Yoongi’s back, his asinine words making him madder. God he wanted to crush someone’s skull into dust with his bare hands.

And right now, in his head , that skull belonged to Jung fucking Hoseok.

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

 “What just happened?” I asked, frantic staring at the door as Hoseok’s men casually led a fuming Seokjin away while the man himself stared at me, looking pale as parchment.

“ Jungkook found out.” He said shortly and I felt my heart drop although I was half relieved because there had been something insane in Kim Seokjin’s gaze when he’d reached for me , a cruel glint of hunger that told me he would have hurt me really badly if Hoseok hadn’t barged into the room , frantic and worried.

He had given Seokjin a wide smile and then, “ I’m so sorry. We were waiting on her blood results and turns out she has a…. well, certain occupational disease that is very infectious.”

Seokjin’s mouth had dropped open even wider than mine.

“I thought she was a fucking virgin.” He had snapped, and I flinched at how cold and furious he had sounded.

But apparently there was a reason this whole thing had happened.

“What do you mean Jungkook knows? What does that mean?” I asked frantically, fear taking over.

“ He’s heading back here… He wants to see you.”

I felt my entire body go ice cold as I shook my head…

“No…fucking no bring Seokjin back here , he can fuck me that was the fucking deal, Hobi, please don’t../…”

“Elena , I’m so fucking sorry.. Seokjin…he’s fucked in the head…. He likes hurting his whores, likes making them bleed and he would have fucking destroyed you…”

I gaped at him horrified.

“What?!” I hissed shaking my head in disbelief.

“He’s Jungkook’ stepbrother. I’ve arranged whores for him before, I knew he was a little crazy but I’d never seen him before and I didn’t know he was the Kim Seokjin…fuck he outbid everyone and fucker looks like a fucking angel, how the fuck was I supposed to know he’s unhinged? Thankfully, I messaged Yoongi and …. Fuck… Listen… I know I paid for your sister’s surgery but you’re going to have to pay me back….”

I felt my body convulse in rebellion.

“I can’t.. You know I fucking can’t…”

“I can’t make an enemy out of Jungkook…. I can’t.” Hoseok shook his head. “ You can get out of here now if you want but I’d advise you to stay. If you run it’s only going to make Jungkook angrier.”

“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO HIM?!!!” I screamed, feeling my composure crumble into smithereens. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT FROM ME?!!”

Hoseok flinched, stepping back and holding his hands up.

“Whether I want to or not, I answer to Jungkook.  I shouldn’t have done this in the first place , I’m sorry Elena.” He shook his head and stepped back like the coward that he was and I wanted to hurt him. To shake him and ask him to fucking remember who I was. That I had nothing to do with my father’s sins . That I had been a fucking marionette in his hands, had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So much for being a friend…” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t look guilty. None of them ever did. It was like guilt didn’t exist in their world. They did what they wanted to whoever they wanted , whenever they wanted and they got away with it because that bastard’s word was law. What Jeon Jungkook wanted, he got.

“I’ll get your clothes sent in.”

I watched him leave, the door slamming shut behind him and sagged against the bed, staring at myself. What had just happened?

Was I born to endless misery and misfortune?

Couldn’t I catch a fucking break?

I’d agreed to sell myself hadn’t I? Would have even let Seokjin hurt me if that was what he wanted. Because it was one night. It was one night of this…whatever the hell this was and then freedom. That was the deal.

The door opened again and I stared as a young girl brought me a pile of my clothes neatly folded.

“Do you work here?” I said sharply.

She blinked before bowing her head.

“Yes, mistress.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t call me mistress , I’m here to get fucked, just like you. Tell me does Jungkook ever use the women here.” I demanded.

She looked trapped, glancing at the door, clearly wanting to run .

“Tell me.” I snapped and she flinched.

“I..uh..yes. Sometimes.” She said softly.

“Can you tell whoever fucks him next to kick him in the fucking balls?”

The girl bowed deeply and all but ran out and I sighed, feeling myself shaking. Jungkook was on the way here and I wanted to yell and scream and rave at him but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. I wanted to deny him the satisfaction …wanted to act all cool and composed in front of him but it was impossible…

Because I hadn’t realized just how tired I was of this whole thing, till right this moment, when the end had been in sight. I was supposed to get my two billion won pay off all the debt , give Jisoo the rest of the money and disappear. I was so tired, so tired of this life I’d gotten trapped into, slaving over for hours on end just to afford a couple of meals a day. No friends, no boyfriends, no hope of a future …..

The door banged open and I jumped, crawling back when I recognized the man who had just entered.

“Yoongi-“

“Jungkook wants to see you.” He ground out and I swallowed.

“I need to get dressed. Please just wait outside.” I said shakily.

And then the door opened further and a tall looming shadow stepped in familiar and vomit inducing.

Jungkook looked livid, piercing glinting through the dimply lit room and I stared at him. He was dressed in a tight black t shirt, he sleeves stretched thin over his biceps and the tattoos stark against his skin.

“Leave us.” He said softly and Yoongi moved away to the door leaving me alone with the devil himself. I cursed myself for not putting at least my panties on, I was naked underneath this shirt and although it was big it left nothing to the imagination.

Jungkook’s eyes raked over my form before resting on my face.

“You think you’re smart enough to outsmart me, Elena?” He whispered softly.

I swallowed.

“Send you brother back in. He can fuck me and I’ll pay you back.”

Jungkook hummed, stepping closer and grabbing my clothes from the bed, he grabbed the plain white bra and the pastel pink underwear and then to my complete and utter mortification he brought the clothing up to his face, breathing in .

“Fucking pervert!!!” I screamed, feeling the action like a physical touch and wanting to claw his eyes out and the smirk on his face told me that this was exactly what he wanted but I was too fucking gone to care.

“If you want me to be a whore, fine. I’ll be a whore. But on my terms…” I spat out and he shook his head, laughing.

“I don’t just want you to be a whore, Elena. I want everyone to know that you are one…” He dropped my clothes and moved closer, holding a hand out. “ Come here.”

I stared at the inked fingers, adorned with sterling silver rings and bracelets with the motifs of his gang. I shook my head.

“No. I’m not playing this game with you.” I turned my face away.

His hand shot out gripping my upper arm with enough strength to bruise and I screamed, agony shooting up my arm and shoulders as he dragged me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed hard, hips and elbows bruising from impact and I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been to gentle with you. You’ve forgotten your fucking place.” He bent over and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to my feet so hard that it felt like my scalp had been ripped away from my skull.

“Okay…okay…Okay Jungkook..just…!!” I said softly, flinching because my pain tolerance was almost zero and Jungkook’s grip was so hard that my eyes were beginning to water now. He let me go, grabbing my panties off the floor and tossing them at me.

“I’m going to count to five. Put those on and get out.”

He walked out of the door and I stumbled a little fumbling with the fabric before quickly, slipping my legs in and yanking it up to my waist. I made to put on something else but his voice came, loud and impatient.

“Get the fuck out here.”

I walked out of the door and he was standing there next to Hoseok. I couldn’t meet either of their gazes , hating how they had so much power over my life. I stared at the floor. It was tempting to yell at them and scream but that never led anywhere.

“ I’ve asked them to stop the payment on the Hospital bill. Seeing as Elena hasn’t kept her end of the bargain.”

I felt my breath hitch at that, willing down the tears as I glared at him.

“What do you want?” I snapped. “ Tell me who you want me to fuck…. I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with so you can go back to whatever sewer you fucking climbed out of. ….”

Hoseok’s breath caught like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said and the look in his eye was a warning but I was sick of this. Sick of them all.

Jungkook turned to Hoseok with a laugh.

“You see hyung? See why I can’t let her go? If I let her scot free, everyone’s going to think I’m a pushover….that any worthless bitch can talk to me any way she wants and get away with it….” He shook his head, staring at me with a glint in his eye. “ I’m not going to choose. They are. You think you can charm your way into Hoseok’s heart and get special treatment? You think you’re ready to be a whore, Elena? Let me show you how a real whore gets treated in Hoseok’s club.”

He gripped my wrist, yanking me behind him as he stalked off down the narrow corridor that opened up into the club. I let myself get dragged out into the club dismally aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. I could feel eyes on me but I kept mine on the back of Jungkook’s head as he dragged me all the way to the front. I knew what he was going to do and at this point I was just numb.

There was no point reasoning with the devil.

I glared at him as he pointed at the stage. “ Get up there.” He whispered harshly.

I stared back at him, not moving. I saw Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“Either you go up there by yourself, with your clothes on. Or I carry you up there, after stripping you naked. What’s it going to be? ”

I glared at him, pursing my lips before climbing up using the small stair in the side. I moved to the center, right in front of the stage lights, so the rest of the room would disappear. I had no wish to see any of the bastards in the room.

“I think all of you recognize this little beauty here, don’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was cheerful, friendly even and I bit my lips, fists clenched. “ Well, if you don’t let me tell you . This is Gong Hyo Suk’s daughter. Remember that bastard? He put a hit out on my father. Killed him and my mom on the night I was supposed to be marrying his fucking daughter. A daughter who later called off the wedding, because I was too poor now, to give her the life she deserved. ”

I felt the familiar ice cold guilt in my vein. I was seventeen, I wanted to scream. I was seventeen and all I did was say what my father asked me to say, do what my father asked me to do.

“ That was nine fucking years ago… and you know what I told myself…. I told myself, that a greedy little bitch like this, doesn’t deserve shit.” He laughed. “ If money’s what she values the most, then the only thing she deserves is to be treated like the whore she is.”

“Why don’t you guys tell me, how much money you’d be willing to spend, to fuck her? Come on, Hobi’s been treating you guys so well lets help him make some money tonight… be generous. ”

I could barely hear what they were calling out but when Jungkook climbed onto the stage next to me, I jumped. Moving back instinctively, I winced when brought a forearm around my throat nearly choking me as he dragged up against his body.

“90 million won….That’s a lot.” He grinned. “ Jihan hyung….. that was you right? You’re gonna pay 90 million won for her?”

I felt my heart race, it was a lot. More than enough for the Hospital Bills, would even leave extra to get a decent apartment somewhere... I grabbed his wrist as it pressed into my throat, trying to pull his hand off me but he just wrapped his free hand around my waist, wrapping his entire body around mine and chuckling into my hair.

Jungkook pressed his head against mine and I froze, hating the close contact.

“Okay…but since I’m feeling a bit left out here…Why don’t I pitch in… 500 Won.” Jungkook said loud and clear.

I froze. An eerie silence fell over the club, laughter stilling and the clink of glasses slowing down.

What.

I struggled to get away from his but his hold tightened.

“Anyone else?” He called out. “ Come on… Not even thousand? Surely you think this one here’s worth a thousand won? Aren’t you going to outbid me?”

No one responded of course they didn’t. Jungkook’s anger was palpable and no one was going to get on his wrong side …..

“Ahh… is that it then? Bid’s going to close for 500 won then…. Hear that baby?” He whispered against my ears and I swallowed. “ 90, million won to five hundred won in a few seconds… What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you’re a fucking psychopath in love with your own voice… Get off me.” I hissed.

“No. What it tells you is that only I get to decide how much that body of yours is worth, not you. . You don’t get to go sell your fucking body behind my back for two billion won and then pay off all your debts and ride off into the sunset, that is not how this works….”

I went limp in his arms fighting tears because he never played fair. Never.

“Hear that Hoseok-ah… I win her for the night for 500 won…fair and square…. Is that alright?” He called out into the darkness and I felt the first inkling of dread begin to seep in.

“No.. No… get off me.” I hissed and he laughed, dragging me off the stage with ease. I screamed, kicking out in disbelief.

Jungkook grinned at me, before grabbing both my arms and yanking them behind me, and I whimpered, unable to move as he easily pulled me along to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind us I heard Hoseok’s voice.

“Jungkook, don’t be impulsive. Think about whatever you’re going to do.”

I flinched at that, panic building.

“He’s not going to do anything. I’ll fucking kill him if he touches me , I-“

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” He shook me hard till my teeth rattled and I sobbed out.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok warned but he merely snarled.

“I know what I’m doing hyung, just…. Don’t disturb us. And make sure everyone here knows that she’s open for business.” It was loud enough to carry through the club and I felt humiliation burn my throat, acrid like acid.

I froze in disbelief.

“Jungkook …” Hoseok’s voice held a tone of reproach.

“ And tell them that her body is amazing. Tell them she spent the night with me , the best fuck I’ve ever had , mouth made for cock.”

I stared straight ahead as he pulled me all the way to the room we had left earlier and I tripped when he shoved me inside, landing on my hands and knees . I quickly rolled back around to land on my ass, crawling back as he slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

He stared down at me, mouth grim.

“You do owe me a wedding night. I was so ready to fuck your tight cunt, nine years ago… I think I’ve waited long enough yeah.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, to yell and scream and protest and fight so he could get off and forcing me…. Fucking psychopath.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“If you pay for my sister in laws bills, and give me an apartment sure. “ I shrugged. “You’re not any different from any of the bastards here. I don’t give a damn which one of you idiots wants to rut into me like the absolute animal that you are…. I don’t care…” I said softly.

“you don’t? Really? You want me to tell you what your brother said when one of my men put a gun into his mouth…. He begged for his life…said he had a kid on the way….” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “I told him it was better than what his father did…. My sister was six months pregnant when his lieutenant gunned her down on the streets.”

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Why are you telling me this…” I snapped.

“Because she didn’t deserve it did she, Elena? She didn’t fucking deserve to die like that , like a dog on the street when she had nothing to do with any of this…. She didn’t deserve it.” He growled, bending down and gripping my chin hard.

“Maybe she did deserve it.” I spat out. “ If I deserve to be here, maybe your sister deserved to die too. “

He snarled, hand flying to my hair and dragging me up off the floor in one sharp yank. I whimpered as he pushed me on the bed, before climbing on top of me. I felt like every bone in my body was about to snap in two, the weight of him unbearable on me.

“I won the bid tonight…. I won it fair and square… You signed the waiver didn’t you…that you agreed to the auction…I won and I’m going to fucking collect.” He growled, and I kicked out, trying to buck him off of my body.

“Get off me.” I hissed. “ I’m not letting you fuck me for 500 won.”

“How about for your Jisoo then?” He whispered and I went still.

“What?”

He chuckled, reaching down and I felt my pulse pound as he pulled his phone out, dialing quickly and turning on the speakers.

Yoongi’s voice made me go ice cold. Everyone knew what Yoongi did for Jungkook.

“Daehwan’s wife is in a hospital room in Yongsan. Hobi’s got the details. I think she’s served her purpose.”

“No!! JUNGKOOK NO!!” I  screamed , thrashing so hard my head began to spin but he grunted pressing down into me harder.

“Are you serious? I’m not home yet… I can take care of it tonight.” Yoongi said, voice casual and I sobbed, shaking my head in sheer terror.

“Okay… I’ll behave.. I promise.. please just don’t…”

Jungkook hummed.

“Well, that was easy… Yoongi-yah… why don’t you stay on the phone yeah…. Going to get that wedding night I’m owed and if my baby doesn’t co operate you know what to do, yeah?”  

I bit my lips, glaring into the sheets as he gripped my waist, pulling me up.

“Ass up like the bitch that you are, baby.” He whispered and I felt my entire body shudder in disgust. It was worse because I hadn’t done this before. Didn’t know what to expect. But I couldn’t let him know that. If Jungkook knew that I was a virgin, I could just imagine how much fun he’d have with that info.

Hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed and I turned my face away when I felt the press of his lips on my cheeks. He gripped both my wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned over my head and I flinched when I felt his fingers pulling the fabric of my panties aside, just enough for the blunt head of his cock to press against my slit.

“Yoongi, you there?” Jungkook said softly and Yoongi grunted over the phone. I felt my face flame in embarrassment.

“You’re a sick bastard but I’m used to it. What’s up?” he said casually.

“Remember how we used to wonder just how tight Elena’s cunt was… back when we were in school.”

Fucking monster, I thought in disbelief. I hate him I hate him I hate him….

“Good times…” Yoongi chuckled lightly .

Jungkook pushed into me in one hard thrust and pain shot straight up my spine, my insides burning like he’d fucked me with a knife and not his body. I couldn’t stop the cry of agony that got torn of me, my eyes tearing up and tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

“Damn Jungkook, she okay?” Yoongi’s chuckle made me want to claw his face off, and just the urge to kill was growing inside me.

“Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact just as tight as we thought…” He grunted, thrusting into me at a pace that was inhumane, every push and drag of him rubbing my insides raw and I bit down on the sheets under me, afraid that I would do something absolutely humiliating, like beg him to stop.

“Good, you should let me take that tight ass for a ride someday then. With her permission of course…. I’m a gentleman after all. Big on consent.” He laughed and I swallowed the urge to tell him that I would puncture his balls with a switchblade if he came anywhere near me.  

“Oh, she’s going to do whatever I ask her to….aren’t you baby…” He grunted, “ Turn around so I can see you.”

He pulled out of me, his weight lifting off my body as he moved away. I couldn’t move, limbs numb and insides throbbing in pain . His palm landed on my thigh, hard and the sharp sting of it made me jump.

“I said turn around, I want to see your face when I fuck you.” Jungkook growled. I stayed limp, breathing hard and he grunted impatient, fingers sinking into my hair , yanking me to my knees and the movement made my legs scream in protest.

“How’s she so quiet? You fucked the voice out of her, kook-ah?” Yoongi asked amused and Jungkook pulled me by the hair, dragging me to the center and pushing me down till my head landed on the pillow.

“Hyung you should see her right now, all fucked out …. Like she’s never had a dick in her before.” He shook his head, “ Fucking slut. Take that off and hold yourself open for me.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending and he grabbed both my hands, placing them on my knees.

“Grab your knees and pull your legs back… So I can fuck that tight cunt the way I want to.” He said slowly, like I was a dog he was trying to train and I stared at him , defiantly.

“ Go to hell.” I whispered.

Yoongi’s laughter came from somewhere to the right.

“Your dirty talk needs work, Kook ah… Tell her she’s a precious little kitten and she makes you feel really good…. Bitches love that shit…”

Jungkook hovered over me, grabbing the back of my thighs and spreading them wide enough to make me whimper in pain.

“Is that so babygirl? You want me to tell you that? That you make daddy’s cock feel good?” He cooed, nudging the tip against me again and I had never hated anyone so much in my life. I stared up at his face, and he smiled at me, a cheeky little grin that made his bunny teeth stand out and for a second he looked so deceptively angelic and the glimmer of his piercing caught my eye.

I couldn’t help but swallow, gaze trained on the glint of metal on his tongue.

“You like that?” He grinned suddenly, sticking his tongue out for me to see, I felt my eyes widen at how sinfully good he looked .” Hyung she likes my tongue piercing.”

“Show her how it feels on her clit.” Yoongi laughed and I could barely fully process what I heard before Jungkook was crawling down my body, arms, curling on my thighs and yanking me onto his tongue .

I felt the press of his tongue on my slit, licking right into me and the jolt of pleasure was so unexpected, the pleasure so unwanted and yet so overwhelming and I couldn’t stop the way my body thrashed against the streets, lips parted as I practically mewled out in pleasure.

“Definitely a kitten…” Yoongi called out and I shuddered as Jungkook slipped two fingers into me , the ice cold press of his ring inside me making me jump. I wanted to pull away, grab his hair and yank him off but I couldn’t because it was

“Next time I’ll put the dick piercing in too, yeah? Fuck you with a bit of metal on my cock so you can feel that up there…. ” He laughed into my thighs and I screamed when he bit into the flesh there , hard.

“I’m getting bored… Either turn on facetime so I can at least jerk off to this , or I’m hanging up…” Yoongi called out .

“Hyung she clenches down on me every time she hears your voice… Just stay on for a few more minutes yeah, she tastes so fucking good, I’m gonna cum soon….” Jungkook added another finger, slipping in deep before spreading them apart inside me. I whimpered when he pushed his tongue in between the wet digits, licking into my walls and I could feel the ball of his piercing drag against my walls, ice cold and hard.

Was it fucked up that I did clench down on him again, my body apparently a slave to my base desires even as my mind screamed that he was the absolute worst bastard on the face of the planet.

“Elena, you owe me a blowjob at least for this…” Yoongi called out and I glared at the phone.

“I’ll bite your fucking dick off if you come anywhere near me.” I snapped.

“Fuck, I could get off just to that mouthy fuckhole of hers…..” Yoongi grunted.

Jungkook pulled away, climbing back up over me and lightly slapping my breasts.

“Now, how about you open that mouth and let me fuck it?”

Yoongi snorted from behind us and Jungkook glared at the phone before glaring at me again.

“Well?”

“You want to know how hard I can bite?” I said sharply, the pleasure ebbing away into nothing and resentment taking it place, the momentarily physicality of the situation fading and the reminder of who he was and who I was entering my sex addled brain.

“No.. You’re right…. But you know what, I’m not feeling it anymore. I was right.. you really aren’t qualified to be my whore. Your body…it’s frigid like a fucking popsicle…such a fucking turn off. ” He reached over and hung up on the phone.

“Now…”he whispered, leaning in closer and I yelped, when his fingers closed over my throat..” Shut your mouth and take what I give you like a grateful bitch.”

I swallowed when he pushed into me again, his pace steady as he fucked into me, eyes closed and I realized that he was almost fully dressed having just unbuttoned himself enough to get his cock out.

When he stiffened, spilling into me his eyes blew open and he locked eyes with me, wide eyed and for one horrible second he looked young and vulnerable and hurt.

I blinked as he pulled out, the sticky warm mess of his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the sheets.

“Well, that was much worse than I thought it would be.”  He said and I stayed on the bed as he grabbed his phone and buttoned himself back up.

He smirked at me and then reached into his pocket.

I quickly pulled myself together, ignoring the aches and pains and getting to my knees before reaching for my dress on the bed. it was kind of pointless because I still had Hoseok’s shirt on and I wasn’t going to take that off in front of Jungkook.

“Well, I’m a man of my word , Elena so…here you go..just as we discussed.” He tossed a coin on the bed and I stared at the engraved 500 on the shiny surface, feeling my rage swell inside me.

“If you still want to work out a payment plan for your sister’s bills …. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow?” He tossed his card on the bed before  moving away to the door.

Fucking bastard.

Author’s note : My whole life is filled with regrets . 

#jungkook smut #bts smut #ts fics #jungkook fics #bts fanfic #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

[stellocchia]

So, I once made a post about c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship throughout season 1 (which you can find here), but today I was thinking, why not do the same for the Exile Arc?

There are some people that still don’t seem to have a comprehensive idea of what actually went down during that time (either because they joined the fandom afterwards or haven’t watched it at the time) so I’ll try to do that here. I’ll cover the first 2 streams here, and then continue in the next part because this is gonna be way too damn long otherwise...

As always I’ll be talking only about the characters and the roleplay from here on out and also I’ll be touching on some very heavy topics under the cut (such as gaslighting and abuse). Also this is gonna be another one of my Overly Long Analysis, so... you know... be warned of that.

I’ll be going through this vod by vod, so It will be so long... God why do I always do this to myself?

Let’s start with TommyInnit Is Exiled From The Dream SMP... which is the vod when Tommy actually get’s exiled.

So, the exile scene per se has been covered a 100 times over, but, right after Tubbo asking Dream to “please detain and excort Tommy out of my country” Dream yeets Tommy off the walls and then he immediately establishes the general idea of how it’ll be in exile: “I don’t think you wanna die Tommy. You need to- to listen to me”.

Also it is to be noted that in this “exile” time and time again Dream establishes arbitrary rules that were most certanly not meant in the initial sentence (which is why it’s much more of a kidnapping then an actual exile). Starting from before they even leave L’Manburg completely. In fact when they are still in the vc with the others and still just down from the obsidian walls, Tommy and Dream have this exchange:

“Do I have any time to speak words? What can...” “NO. NO. NO. NO!” “what the...” 

And then right after (just after leaving the vc):

“Do you have food?” “Yeah...” “Good, we’ll be going a long while still” “Am I not allowed- well surely- surely I’m only exiled from L’Manburg-” “Oh, no no no. You’re exiled from everywhere that’s been touched”

The sentence was only for him to be exiled from L’Manburg. Dream theoretically only had authority over the Greater Dream smp in any case, so how come immediately Tommy’s “sentence” becomes being exiled from “everywhere that has been touched”? What authority did Dream have to exile him from the Badlands? Or the Holy Grounds (considering those are widely considered neutral)?

This is from right after Ghostbur joins them:

“Well, I don’t- I don’t have to come with you” “Well, I mean, I’ll kill you” (...) "I don’t have to follow you! I don’t-” “Tommy! Then I’ll just kill you. What happens if I kill you?” “I die...”

Again, technically Tubbo only asked Dream to escort Tommy out of his country, not all the way to his place of exile. Tommy here is right, he is exiled, he is not supposed to have a jailor going with him, he is not supposed to be imprisoned. All he supposedly had to do was get off the lands he wasn’t allowed into and then he’d be good. Of course Dream’s plans were different there.

Also the trend of constantly undermining anything Tommy is feeling at any given moment sure doesn’t stop with the Exile Arc! 

“No, no! I don’t want to head anywhere! I wanna to go back! I wanna go back!” “Fine fine, we’ll head this way then. It’s fine, this is fine” “I don’t wanna go!” “Tommy come on...”

Honorable mention to Dream talking about the first time he exiled Tommy:

“Do you remember- this is actually funny! Do you remember the first time you ever joined the server? And uhm... you got exiled? By me?” “Yeah?” “It’s kinda like that, except now if you don’t listen you die”

And the conditioning begins all the way here, with Dream trying to decide Tommy’s emotions for him:

“Oh... I hate you” “*laughs* Okay Tommy, you don’t hate me” “No, no I definitely do” “Noooo, you don’t hate me”

Cue Dream just blowing up Tommy’s second Summer Home after he explained that it was supposed to be a safe haven for him and Tubbo. Also note that Dream is already getting rid of any mob attacking Tommy even if at this point he still had armour and weapons to defend himself. I talked about this before, but Dream does seem to want Tommy to be as dependent on him as he is on Tommy, which is why during exile he made him dependent on him for protection/safety and company and in prison for food. Also Ghostbur going: “I don’t think this man is very nice...”, thank you Ghostbur, I wish you could remember that, but you’re trying your best and I appreciate it...

“How long is- how long am I exiled for? When can I just go back?” “You can’t (...) if you go back you die”

Again, not Dream’s decision to make. Tubbo was the one exiling Tommy meaning that, if Tubbo actually had the decision power in that istance, Tubbo was the one who should have decided when he could come back. Also, again reiterating the point from before:

“I thought I was only banished from L’Manburg, that was the deal, not the entirety of the smp-” “Oh no. No you’re banished far enough where they don’t see you”

Also, a little look into Tommy’s mentality here:

“Tubbo said he wasn’t thinking with emotion, but with reason, but: what the fuck is the point if there isn’t any- any emotion?!”

This is honestly why he is Dream’s exact opposite and probably why he finds him fun, while Tubbo is irrelevant to him. Tommy thinks emotions should always be taken into account when making decisions and he values sentimentality over everything. Dream is the opposite, to him emotions are irrelevant and sentimentality is a weakness. Tubbo is a bit of both, which makes his clash of ideologies with Dream a lot less evident. 

Anyway, they get to the island and Dream builds Tommy a dirt shack for him to set his spawn into. And then there is the first istance of Dream taking all of Tommy’s stuff (building blocks and food included) and blowing it up. Which, again, is in no way an actual exile condition. Tommy is in jail basically. He got kidnapped and now he is in jail. Also right after that Dream gives them food and obsidian (of course acting like he is doing them a big favour, when he actually just created that need), which Tommy bromptly refuses, later burning the obsidian.

Also Dream’s parting words here are: “I’ll see you never”. Which couldn’t be less true! There is quite a bit more after that, of Tommy and Ghostbur settling in, finding a ruined portal with some armour and the village nearby and Techno visiting, but this is about c!Dream and c!Tommy and it’s already incredibly long as is, so maybe I’ll talk about everything else another time...

Onto the next one: Tommy Is Alone in Exile with Dream...

This stream starts off with Bad visiting Tommy to give him a few presents (which consist of Chirp, 2 diamonds, an enderchest, and almost dead diamond pick with silk touch, some coocked chicken some bones and a few stacks of oak wood logs). Also Tommy sees Logsteshire for the first time. Then Dream arrives and he is not happy about the present (something something, having other people giving Tommy useful stuff would make him less reliant on Dream). Also Bad seems to be slightly scared of Dream since he immediately tells Tommy that he should not say that any of the stuff he gave him was from him. Anyway, Dream destroys everything, but Tommy, with Bad’s help, manages to save Chirp. Here’s their exchange in this scene of course:

“Tommy?” “Yes! Yes?!” “Do you have uh... something you wanna put on the floor here?” “Yes *throws in 3 red concrete blocks*” “Anything else Tommy?” “No! You’re evil by the way, you’re an evil man-” “Come on... I know there is something else you wanna drop down here...” “No there-... *gives disk to Bad* I don’t reckon there is!” “Okay are you sure...?” “Yes!” “Alright... how about uh- how about your armour Tommy?” “No this is- I actually earned this myself” “I know you did! Just drop it in the hole Tommy” “No, no! You can’t just come and demand things from me! I’ve been exiled, I’ve done your shit! What- what do you mean-” “Tommy~” “What?” *Dream hits Tommy with an enchanted netherite axe* “Drop them down~” “Hooooo okay okay okay!”

So, in case anyone was wondering, physical abuse is there as well. And this is fully depicted as physical abuse. Like, normally, with this being Minecraft, it is implied that violence is generally inconsequential, here though c!Tommy reacts to it clearly in pain and shock. There is no doubt there. 

Sapnap arrives at this point as well. After that Dream makes it a point that Tommy cannot have the enderchast that Bad gave him because you can never have enough random arbitrary rules when kidnapping someone apparently! 

“Why are you here? Why are you here? What- what could you- what could you possibly want more from me? You’ve tortured me-” “I’m just! I’m just... keeping an eye on you Tommy” 

I’ve highlighted this because, considering the last time Dream was there he said he would never see Tommy again, Tommy’s confusion here is more then understandable. But of course Dream acts like it’s obvious that he would be there and that it’s necessary to make sure that Tommy is not “up to no good”. Also, another extremely important exchange: 

“You’ve exiled me you stupid manipulative green bastard!” “Yeah I know! I know! And you know why I did that” “Yes? Yes?” “No, you know why” “Why?” “Because you don’t listen to me ever. You’re the only person who doesn’t ever listen to me (...) listen, you are like a little annoying bug in my room and it pisses me off so I take you and I put you outside and that’s what I did. And now I’m just making sure that you stay outside”

So... the bullshit about this being about George’s house is out of the window by the first proper exile stream. Also Dream goes in the ever increasing list of villains who, if annoyed enough, will reveal all their evil plans to the protagonist. Like Tommy screaches enough and Dream will immediately go in evil monologuing mode...

“So what do you actually want from me then?” “Well nothing, I’m just here to talk to you. Tommy, we’re still friends ok? Just because I exiled you doesn’t mean we’re not friends-” “Just because I killed your friends and family doesn’t mean we can’t be bros...” “Well, it’s true!”

Ok so, it’s confirmed that Dream would still go on with this “friendship” facade even if he killed Tubbo or Wilbur then. Also:

*Tommy sees a creeper* then in the most monotone tone ever: “Help me” Dream sprinting from the other side of the cave: “TOMMY!”. I love this scene and I love this two dumbasses (and I mean the cc’s here). Also, to go back to the serious stuff: once again Dream is the one killing every single mob around Tommy because he blew up all his means for defence. Also Bad and Sapnap are still there as well, but Dream is always the on interveening (mostly because he is the one following Tommy around more closely). I’ll have a few of the more interesting quotes here afterwards until the next interesting scene:

“If I had 8 legs I would fuck you all up” “Oooh, no you wouldn’t” (Dream de-valuing Tommy’s anger once again)

“Stop following me” “NO” “Well okay then...” (honestly this was just funny...)

“Can I call you Wilbur? Or is it Ghostbur...?” “You can call me whatever you like” (for those saying that Ghostbur not correcting Tommy was weird)

“Alright Wilbur, what do you need an enderchest for? I might make an exception but-” “We- we need it so that we can access our stuff from the old world, the old world” “But not to go back” “How would we be able to go back with an enderchest?” “Well I don’t know maybe there is stuff in there that’s... better” “Tommy do you have anything that could get you to go back? In the enderchest?” “A boat? What’d you mean?” “Yeah to be honest we just need wood to get back, it’s not really-” 

Here we have Ghostbur poking holes in one of the new rules that Dream added that day. As a matter of fact, why would an enderchest be dangerous? Tommy mostly keeps sentimental stuff in there and a bit of iron. Still that’s the whole point: Dream is trying to get Tommy under his control so he needs to bring him to a point where he’ll listen to his orders even when they don’t make any actual sense. Also, btw, Dream doesn’t actually give them an enderchest after this exchange.

“Do you want to come with me Tommy? Do you want to come with me and visit the old library?” “No no no” “Yes! Yes please!” “No he wants to stay here with me” “I don’t. I definitely don’t” “He does! He’s just trying to be nice to you Wilbur. He’s trying to be nice to you” “I’m not Wilbur, I want to come with you” (way to gaslight an amnesiac ghost...)

“So how long is Tommy supposed to be here?” “Like a week?” “Oh, a week is not bad!” “*laughing* No he’s here forever” (Like goddamn, imagine if every minor griefing was punished with permanent exile!)

“M-maybe like- does Tommy gets like visitations? Like once every month he get’s to go to L’Manburg-” “No! No no no” “No visitation, huh?” “No visitation” (well, let’s thank Sapnap for trying...)

So, after this Tommy gets his plan to go through the Nether and find a quick way to and from L’Manburg to, perhaps, sneak in unnoticed at some points. Dream “allows” him here to go to the Nether (even though technically there is no reason why the exile would extend to there as well), so they get to work on fixing a ruined portal. “Did you know, I apparently blew up a nation and killed everyone” (thank God we have Ghostbur, he makes everything better). One thing I want to note though: at this point Tommy still kills the mobs attacking him when Dream is not stalking him and doing it for him, which is kind of nice. We are still at the first exile stream though...

“Can I go back for like an hour and see all my friends?” “No, they can come here though. I-I mean Tommy, I think- I think that someone could come here and visit you, but you can’t ever go back. Like I-I don’t have anything against people coming here and visiting you if they want to. They don’t HAVE to, but they can if they really want to” “Tommy think of it this way: whenever you’re in prison you can’t just go and visit your friends, but they can come and visit you” “They can come and visit you, yeah, that’s actually a very- that’s a perfect analogy”

I wonder why the best analogy for Tommy’s situation is not a f*cking exile analogy, but actual prison. Maybe because he is confined to one place, not allowed to keep any personal items and never allowed to go back? Also they actually get to Nether hub at this point and there is the famous scene with Tommy looking at the lava: 

A curious thing about this scene (aside from being a clear indication of the beginning of Tommy’s depressive spiral) is both that Dream didn��t seem to particularly care about Tommy dying up until now (and in the future as well) as long as he is the one to kill him. Meaning that he seemed fine with it as long as he had control over it. And yet at the end there he agrees with Tommy’s statement of “it’s never my time to die” which kinda makes me think that Dream by this point was already entirely set on his idea of Tommy needing to be alive for Dream to control the whole server. Tommy and Dream head back to Logstedshire after this scene.

*Tommy looks at the lava while standing very close to the edge* “I’ll go back through just to... check and see” *Dream hits Tommy away from the edge* “Come on” *Tommy goes back to the edge and Dream pushes him away again, this time covering the hole* “It’s not your time to die yet Tommy” “It’s never my time to die” “That’s true” 

“Home sweet home...” “Home sweet home. I think it’ll be good! People might visit you all the time, I mean, I can visit you! It’s- it’s actually fun to come here! It’s a little bit- it’s a change of scenery, you know?” “It’s not fun to be stuck here” “Well... you’re not ’stuck’ it’s your vacation home!” “Can I go back? I’m ready...” “No but you can leave this area, you can go somewhere else. This is just- like, I took you far away, you can go further if you want”

So, if anyone is wondering, this is not, in fact, Dream giving Tommy more freedom. Especially considering that when Tommy does leave Logstedshire later on Dream literally hunts him down, so no, that was never an option. What Dream is doing here is make himself sound benevolent by comparison by telling Tommy that the only other options he has are worse since they are even further away.

“I’m here for a good time, not for a long time” (more hints towards Tommy’s depressive spiral)

“Guys how do you know when it’s too much?” (and again)

“Can I go and see the tree?” “Tommy, you can’t go and see the tree” “Dream why don’t you let him just- it’s not in L’Manburg! Why don’t you let him just see the tree and then escort him back?” 

Ghostbur my beloved, pointing out holes in Dream’s rules all the time. Something tells me that’s the reason why Dream tried to kill him later on...

Anyway! This concludes this first post because it’s... Oh fuck this is REALLY long.... welp! I’ll make the others in the next few days! 

#dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #ghostbur #dream smp #exile arc #tw abuse #tw manipulation #c!dream critical #character analysis #relationship analysis #this was supposed to be just all the quotes of c!dream being an asshole during the exile arc #then I went 'how about I write a couple of my thoughts in as well?' #and mistakes were made... #long post #my post

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part III)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

Summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: It will take more than a betrayal and blood blath for the reader to stop protecting those who really need it.

Words count: 4.7k

I knew things were going to go from bad to worse when we returned to Paradis; but I never imagined that I would have a letter from the Supreme Commander on my desk. Days had passed since my fiasco conversation with Eren, spreading the word of my insubordination towards the lack of notification to the respective authorities. Sure, the guards had let me into the cell just because they knew me, but I never had the decency to tell Hange-san or even ask for a meeting with the Supreme Commander.

And here I was. Wrapped up in a much bigger shit roll since I decided to enlist in the Survey Corps, with a simple letter demanding my presence in his office for a little "talk."

The medical center where I could do my practices with ease was quite far from the justice’s court where the Supreme Commander was, having to go out to ride through the beautifully paved streets. A street I crossed, a street I saw citizens read the newspapers that had brought so much catastrophe to peace within the walls. People were revolting against the militancy, demanding Eren's immediate release, praising he was the only one who could lead Eldia to its ultimate glory.

If they could heard themself right now. They spoke as if Paradis itself had become an empire, a power on the verge of attacking and taking every country under its feet. It was as if they wanted to turn the game around, to be us the empire and our enemies the war slaves.

I was still far from my destination, but the crowd could be seen cowering above the barred court doors. Men and women with posters screaming without sense or unity, an angry mob demanding explanations, ready to use violence to make their way into the hierarchy.

I got off my horse when I faced the crowd, needing to get up front and through the secured gate and with my loyal traveling companion I wasn't going to make it. I left him tied up outside a local, asking the owner to take care of him, if necessary, I would give him a monetary compensation on my returned.

I tried to get through the mob, asking permission, even nudging some people, but no matter how hard I tried to take a step forward, there was always a bastard blocking my way or pulling me back; They even had the decency to grab my coat and throw me off.

"Excuse me, but I need to pass"

Empty words at this situation. If they didn’t listen to the specialized people of the militancy, it was obvious that they wouldn’t listen to me, a simple doctor in practice for the legion.

"Free the leader of the Eldian empire"

"Free Eren Jaeger"

"Give us some damn answer"

"Fuck off you cheap bitch"

The day wasn’t even beginning and I was already receiving hateful comments, typical of closed minds.

I looked around for a solution, I was wasting valuable time and starting to get irritated. If I was late for my meeting with the Supreme Commander, who knows what punishment he would give me apart from my insubordination.

Besides of the mob there wasn’t much more than a few elegant houses and shops, no other entrance except the one in the backyard, but to get there, I would have to go all the way around the building and it would take much longer. The walls were too high to jump alone and too smooth to climb, otherwise enough people would have sneaked in by now.

I turned my head towards my horse, which was still in the same position where I left him, patiently awaiting my return. Surely what I was about to do wasn’t going to please him one bit.

I ran as fast as I could and unhooked him from the wooden post, ignoring the comments of the owner of the premises who was indisputably claiming for his pay. Without turning my head to such scum, I motioned for the horse to turn around and run down the avenue, against the crowd. Being at a considered distance, I again instructed him to turn around and go as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry Phillip, you're going to have to forgive me for what I'm going to do"

We were a few meters from the mob, mentally preparing myself for the feat that was about to be accomplished. Almost arriving, about to impact, I gave him a little jerk to the right, guiding us towards the wall, and raised my legs towards his back, squatting against him, waiting for the right moment and the impulse he would give when braking hard.

When he was about to slam his trunk against the wall, Phillip stopped his galloping, propelling me forward and flying toward one of the door columns. I grabbed the stone as best I could, avoiding falling on my backside, and raised my legs towards the top, finally reaching my goal. Being already on top and looking at the terrified faces of the rebels, I went down to the other side of the door, slightly hurting my feet and hands in the fall.

"That was quite a show"

Hitch was already in front of me, malicious and proud on her face. She was giving a few applause to the air, trying to lift the spirits of the people of the military squad, even if her acting was a bit cocky.

"Desperate situations call for desperate measures." I waved my hands over the coat, looking at her with the same smug visage she was giving me.

I didn't like Hitch per se, but we weren't friends either. The way she acted and talked gave me bad vibes and I planned to stay as neutral as possible in her presence. Even her gazes seemed to want to pierce the soul of whoever she was speaking to, as if she wanted to undress you internally and seek your darkest and most shameful secrets. I would stick my hands in the fire by assuming that in her younger years she had been a bully or a blackmailer.

But it was better to keep those thoughts for yourself, before generating greater repercussions in the times that hugged us.

"Did you come to see Armin and Mikasa?"

Any thoughts I had of her dissipated.

"They ... are they here?"

I was fuzzy. Not because of the fact that I was uninformed about their actions when they left the legion barracks in the morning, which I was getting used to since last year, but because they were in the same place as me. What a coincidence.

To be honest, the two of them never owed me anything and it wasn't their duty to tell me where they were going every minute of the day, just like Hange. Each one of us had their own will to go where we were sung; But if the three of us were in court, and if they gave me the chance to guess, I would say that to see the Supreme Commander, it made me a bit suspicious.

"Yes, they are talking to the Supreme Commander to try to go talk to Eren"

I must have hit my head at some point in the battle of Marley, because lately every occurrence was quite impossible to believe. They were the ones who asked me to go talk to him a few days ago, they were the ones who questioned me when I returned to the waiting room where the few survivors of 104° Squad were;it was them who gave me a compassionate look as they saw I hadn’t accomplished much and I had ended any relationship that bound me with Eren.

And now here they were, demanding an audience with their childhood friend, while I would have to be judged for the same action. Something wasn’t fitting. I looked around trying to find them, or maybe to find an answer to the thousands of questions that were forming in my head, and finding no help, I turned to Hitch.

"What is going on? Why-"

Before I could finish my question, an explosion rumbled across the cobblestone floor, hurting our ears and knocking us to the ground. Fire and debris couldn’t only be seen in the air but also smelled, flooding our nostrils, causing us to cough and cover our eyes with debris.

I looked up to find a flare coming from one of the court offices and a heavy body falling in our direction. I couldn't make it out until it fell to the ground, leaving a stain of blood and ash around it, apart from leaving a trail of smoke from where it flew off. My eyes were opened with shock and amazement, since the person in front of me was nothing more and nothing less than the same militant leader, half of the body lost and burned by the explosion.

"Well ... that's new"

In all my years of service I have seen every horror inside and outside the walls. True, even the Survey Corps had acted against the law, but it was for the greater good, to expose the bastards who lived on the wall farthest from the sea. I had seen people hit and kick another for a piece of food when the wall Maria fell. I had seen how we were massacred one by one with bullets to the head as we tried to go beyond the walls.

But never in those years I had seen a rebellion like the one taking place, being willing to eliminate such an authoritarian figure as Darius Zackly.

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The chaos went unnoticed by a large part of the population, only those who were present at the time of the explosion and the military police were aware. Faced with such an atrocious event of treason, a small meeting was convened involving the most important heads of each faction; unfortunately I couldn’t be there, my presence had been required in a clinic a few meters from the court. There were quite a few injured.

Some had mild and harmless burns, others had large parts of the body with third degree burns. Some had splinters stuck in their arms and faces, some had a piece of wood stuck in their stomach.

A couple of hours had passed which seemed like weeks to me. I had been assigned the milder cases, but as I pulled the splinters out of a patient's eyes, I had the countless howls of people echoing in my head, listening as they took their last painful breaths. People who asked to die on purpose to ease the pain.

Hours passed and welcomed the next day. I had terrible black circles under my tired eyes, hands stained with dried blood and splintered; they’re fucked up and I needed to heal them as quickly as possible before they got infected. I grabbed the cutting tools and placed them on a metal tray, the cold of the surface soothing the pain in my hands, and although it wasn’t too heavy I felt like it trembled on my grip.

I heard the door open wide at the other side of my last patient's room, the front door, letting in multiple heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor. Apparently, the soldier who had entered was in a hurry or was about to deliver terrible news...I wish I had been wrong in the second option.

"Bad news, Eren Jaeger has escaped from the underground cell"

I dropped the metal tray on my feet, making the sound of metal and utensils rumble across the room. My hands were shaking even more and surely if I saw myself in a mirror I would see my face completely pale.

"If you want to free yourself from this cell, go ahead"

My words invaded my mind like a bucket of cold water, as if they wanted to make me see that I was to blame for his escape. I knew that sooner or later he’s going to free himself, his eyes showed it and by not getting an answer that contrasted with mine, it was perfect evidence of his plans. But even knowing it, even Hange knowing it, I didn't expect him to do it in a moment of such betrayal.

I cleaned my hands as best I could with a towel hanging over the room sink and grabbed my coat, rushing out of the clinic.

"I’m sorry, I need to go"

But where to go was the question. I had no idea where Eren might be, and even if I knew what he was going to win, surely he was with his followers and with the simple image of me approaching from the horizon, I would be dead in a matter of seconds ... or imprisoned, whatever happen first.

At the exit of the clinic, there were two soldiers of the military police standing guard and watching the justice’s court from the distance. I approached them with the intention of asking them about the whereabouts of the Survey Corps, but they looked at me like I had the plague and pushed me aside hostilely, almost knocking me to the ground. I kept my composure as best I could and looked for someone else to ask; I didn’t have to wait long, since a woman of my age with mahogany hair, extremely black and matted, pointed the way where my comareds had gone. According to her words, they’re heading towards a large and luxurious building in the middle of one of the main avenues, recognizing the word restaurant from the conversation between the riders.

The only place that matched that description was the restaurant where Nicolo worked.

I hurried out with Phillip galloping through people, avoiding stepping on them and apologizing on my back. If there was something clear to me in all this mess, it was that Hange would go to find answers among the working Marleyans of that place. Maybe something could be solved.

I was very wrong.

I rushed into the building, finding only a long entrance hall and a corridor that led to god knows where. No one was even around to see me panic and I didn't see a soul nearby either, the only thing if I could hear a heated discussion far away and heavy footsteps on the floor. I let myself be guided by the sound, running back to its origins and finding a bizarre and meaningless scene in front of my eyes.

The room that seemed to be the main one hosted the orphaned children of the Blouse farm as well as Sasha's parents, sad and anguished parents if I paid better attention. The children were just as sad, with tears in their eyes, especially Kaya; they were crying the same way as on the day Sasha's death was reported. They were cornered under a window all together, hugging each other and letting the rays of the sun streaming through the window illuminate their figures, as if those rays could replace the heat that Sasha had left behind.

That scene broke my still fragile heart. I would have liked to reach out to them and try to help them move on, as I would have liked to stay on the farm with them when we came back from Marley to help them get by; obviously I could never have replaced Sasha and they could never have replaced my family, but in these times of battle, what mattered most was healing the wounds between all of us.

I would have liked to talk to them, but my eyes shifted from the Blouse family to the figure of Hange carefully placing a child on the floor. The blond boy was very badly injured on the side of his head, he was bleeding and his clothes had stuck to his body due to the large amount of liquid that had flowed down his torso.

"Hange-san, Wha-" As I stared at the blond boy on the floor, I could see that he was one of the children who had sneaked into our war balloon.

“Isn't that one of the Marleyan children? Why is he here and why is he bleeding?"

Unconsciously my body leaned forward, resting on one knee on the ground and reaching out to the boy. My instincts as a doctor were screaming for me to tend to the poor injured boy regardless of his race and I was willing to do so.

"We will take care of him, go to the room continue with Mikasa and Armin"

I got up without hesitation, taking one last look at the room I was in and it was just at that moment that I recognized Nicolo and Jean in a corner away from everyone else. They both looked very distressed, but I didn't have the opportunity to ask why, they had given me an order and I had to carry it out. I would have to wait until got back to base to understand this terrible situation.

The room they sent me to was at the end of the corridor, the door was closed but every step I took I could hear the soft voices of Mikasa and Armin, apparently talking to someone else. Well, that conversation must have to get a pause because I was about to slam the door in and leave the doors wide open.

“What the hell is going on? Why is a Marleyan child unconscious in the kitchen?"

Upon entering, all excited, my eyes only saw the figures of Armin and Mikasa around a table. They both looked up at me in disbelief when they saw me standing on the threshold. For the second time that day, I looked back across the stage in front of me and spotted a small brown-haired figure sitting at the same table. With a little more attention, I saw that the small figure was trembling, perhaps from fear or from adrenaline, at the same time that its face was bruised and full of blood; and putting all my attention on that bloody face I realized that I recognized those eyes, those same eyes that I had looked at with contempt and had looked back at me with the same feeling the night of the invasion.

The missing girl from the Marleyan duo was sitting across from me staring with sheep's eyes.

All exaltation I had in my body dissipated, my gaze fell, leaving nothing more than a neutral countenance. But ... anyone who could see through my eyes, would know they reflected the fatigue and sadness of several accumulated days. Seeing the girl was perhaps a way of attaching all the harmful feelings in a single part of my body.

I let out a long sigh and closed the door slowly behind me. I walked slowly towards where the girl was, running Mikasa to the side and looked at her with the best possible adult countenance. She had a red nose, it looked like it had been hit right on her septum causing her to bleed and stain her dress, which I assumed was courtesy of the Blouse family. Her cheek was scratched and red too, traces of broken and inflamed skin could be seen around her wound, but without any bleeding. This girl would have a swollen face the next day if we don't give her some ice.

“You’re hurt. Care to explain me what happened?"

I reached my hand out to her, but was greeted with a flinch from her. I could tell she was scared and she had every right to be.Either way, way I brought my hand to her face, placing my index finger and thumb on her jaw to move her head and look for other injuries.

Her face was the one that received the most impact, nothing in her eyes which was a very good sign, and I didn’t notice any kind of fracture in the bones of her cheek or septum. Good. I looked around the room for something I could use, but I only found empty tables adorned with a classic tablecloth and a very well elaborated and cared wine cellar, apart from showing off one of the best wine collections in recent years.

"Armin, can you go get some alcohol to disinfect the wounds? Surely they have something in the kitchen "

The blonde gave me a slight nod and left the room, leaving me alone with Mikasa, who was absolved of the situation, but still maintaining an imposing posture. The girl was still shaking on my hand, so I pushed her away and inspected her body for more injuries.

The palms of her hands were stained with blood, I guessed from the bleeding from her nose, but they also had some slight scratches, perhaps she had fallen to the floor. Her dress didn’t seem torn in the area of ​​the knees, so I assumed that they weren’t injured or it was a very slight scratch, almost no bleeding. Her arms seemed intact as did her torso. I turned to the back of her head, running her hair gently trying to find any trace of blow that could generate a contusion. I didn’t find anything that could be fatal or serious, but I did see something that caught my attention.

“You have marks on your head, diffuse, but they are there. What happened?"

"... A horse bit me"

Of all the situations that could have led to those brands, I didn't expect to hear this one. I didn’t expect it, not at all. It caught me off guard and I let out a giggle which I covered with the back of my hand.

"Sorry, shouldn't laugh… you deserve it thou" I gave her a little pat on the top of her head before ruffling it a bit and bending down to look into her eyes.

Armin returned to the room, alcohol in hand and a clean cloth. Thank God something was clean in this whole city, I was beginning to lose my faith in the cleanliness of this people. I reached for the items and I proceeded to apply a large amount of alcohol to the cloth and apply it first to the frightened girl's cheek.

"Why are you so good to me? I killed a one of your friends"

That comment made me stop for a second, just like I stopped looking at her wound. My gaze fell to the floor in search of an answer; I searched, searched and searched for answers to questions that didn’t have one or weren’t as simple as they seemed...or simply looked in the wrong places and the answers were always in my mind, only that my heart wasn’t prepared to face them.

"The girl you killed the night of the invasion was called Sasha Blouse and she was the best archer and sniper of the legion"

I turned my gaze to her, continuing to heal her wound on her cheek. When I saw that there was only a small pink stain left on the surface, I moistened the cloth further with alcohol and ran it under her nose, removing any trace of blood. The girl pulled back a bit when she felt it’s smell her nostrils and I had the opportunity to cover her nose for a few seconds to stop the bleeding.

"You know ... you remind me of a boy exactly like you"

When I saw that the bleeding stopped and the girl stopped moving due to the burning and itching that the alcohol was surely causing, I grabbed her hands and began to clean them with small touches avoiding tearing her skin.

“Just as intense and ready to fight for what he thinks is fair. You are just a little girl who was taught that we were the bad guys. It’s the way you were raised, the way you see the world. They taught us something else, but at the end of the day, apart from everything... we are the same"

It hurt. Yes, it hurt to see the one guilty of the death of my best friend, but it hurt more to see in her eyes the hatred and contempt they had taught her towards our race. The hate cycle we were getting into wasn't going to get us anywhere and it was better to nip it in the bud, even with baby steps.

When I finished cleaning all her wounds, I put the cloth on the table and looked at my performance with deep pride. It wasn't much, but it was enough; Not only had I cleaned a few simple wounds, but perhaps, I wished that perhaps, it would begin to heal her mind ... and mine as well.

I got up heavily, noticing how my knees creaked when squatting for a long time and I stretched my body generating more crunches, but noting at the same time how the heaviness of my back left and leave behind a much lighter load.

“Very good, you’ve been a good patient. Surely there is something sweet in the kitchen that I can give you” I patted her head again and gave her a sincere smile, one that I hadn't given anyone for quite a while. I headed to the door unconcerned about the situation I assumed was still going on in the main room.

"What's going to happen to Eren Jaeger?"

What will happen to him? And why does she ask me that?

"Don't worry, I'm not letting him put a finger on you" A sincere answer to a question asked out of fear. I reached the door and in the middle of the sentence I turned the knob wanting to make my way into the hall, but a tall figure blocked my way.

Eren was right on the threshold with the intention of opening it.

Well mark me impress

My body jerked back instinctively, avoiding taking my eyes off his. I moved to the right side, avoiding the figure of the Marleyan girl from being in Eren's point of view. I didn't know why he was here or if the others knew about it, but whatever the reason, he surely wasn’t alone and this wasn’t going to lead to anything good.

"Sit down"

He took a few steps forward, closing the door with his foot, not even paying attention to his surroundings, or maybe yes, now everything was a confusion when it came to the brunette in front of us.

"You can't tell me what to do" I planted myself in front of him, without taking a step back. We were both facing each other, him carrying me several inches tall, several dominating inches that made my legs shake and my heart race.

If it had been in any other situation, that trembling, that acceleration would have been very well received. It was impossible not to feel small next to Eren, the damn bastard had hit a big stretch and there was a great difference around the body between the two, a difference that I always loved to admire.

But not now. Not at this moment when everything was going to shit and I had to stand up to the figure of a little girl who was internally dying of fear thanks to him.

"Sit. Down"

Few centimeters separated us from each other, his chest too close to mine, I could feel how it swelled with each breath. He raised his hand to my face, letting me see his cut palm and dripping blood. Fear took hold of me, making me stand even more in my position, but I wasn’t going to give in so easily.

"You wouldn't" I looked him in the eye, defiant, longed for and everything in between.

"Try me"

It was all he said before grabbing onto my shoulders and pulling me back. My body collided with the table and instinctively I placed my hands on it. I heard how Armin and Mikasa tried to get closer to where we were, but a single glance from Eren made them stay still, submissive, as they lost in their positions. His gaze returned to mine. My breath hitched and I had to avoid with all my might thinking about the position we were entwined.

It wasn’t the time to think about how my hips were slightly elevated, just my butt up on the table and one leg dangling, his knee between my legs, preventing me from closing them and keeping the leg that was hanging in the air. His gaze wandered between our bodies and he returned to my eyes. He tightened his grip on my shoulders and pushed me to the side of the table, dropping me onto the chair next to the girl.

"I said. Sit. Down"

He took his hands off my shoulders, took the seat next to me and Armin and Mikasa sat with him, leaving an air of discomfort and tension in the environment.

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[stillness-in-green]

MVA In Memoriam (4/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party) (Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade)

Part Four, Episode 111: Origin: Shimura Tenko

Chapter 233 – Bright Future

• Twice clearly having arranged a Skeptic puppet to where its arm can be used as a pillow for Toga’s neck. A cute little character detail while also being kind of disturbing? Very on-brand for the League! A not-immediately-plot-crucial visual of a member of the League demonstrating obvious care for another member? The guillotine awaits!

• A little explanation about how clones’ physicality and memories work relative to the last time Twice saw the people the clones are based on. This is a very useful little nod of explanation to something that remained unclear from the dialogue of Mr. Clone-press last chapter. Twice’s quirk is pretty arcane in its ins and outs, frankly, and the clearer those details are, the fewer plot holes you’re leaving for later.

• The scene of Skeptic being right on the verge of confronting Twice. Skeptic has, oh, about five moments where he’s obviously a big tense neurotic who’s unpleasant to be around if things aren’t going his way, and the anime deleted or downplayed all but two of them. As ever, it’s obscenely damaging to the characterization of the MLA cast, who we have little enough time with as it is. Further, it was a particularly weird choice to make with Skeptic, who is as of this writing the only major MLA character who’ll emerge still free and active from the War Arc. Why shaft the characterization of the one of new characters who’s going to be getting the most attention out of any of them in the next arc, with yet more scenes yet to come after?[1]

• A full page’s-worth of Spinner’s rationalizations on targeting Trumpet and ordering the Twice doubles to do the same. This lays out the details on why targeting Trumpet stands to relieve some of the load on Shigaraki. It isn’t because Trumpet’s quirk makes the crowds more dangerous, though that is true. Spinner targets Trumpet because he’s seen enough to know that attacking the MLA’s leaders gets them crazy riled up; he knows that if he makes himself a threat to Trumpet, then all Trumpet’s followers’ attention will shift focus to Spinner, leaving Shigaraki with less to deal with.           Spinner also knows that that is ludicrously dangerous to him personally, given his weak quirk, but he actively makes that choice anyway, because that’s how much he’s devoted himself to Shigaraki without (yet) quite articulating the nature and reasons for that devotion. Targeting Trumpet without any of that reasoning made for a perfectly sound tactical decision, but it missed the regard Spinner shows the unnamed mobs of the MLA, and it really missed the probable savage beatdown and even possible death that Spinner consciously chooses to risk for Shigaraki’s sake.           Of course, a chunk of what the episode deleted is flashbacks to scenes the anime also cut, so they couldn’t figure into Anime!Spinner’s reasoning. This does not excuse yet more cuts to Spinner’s arc and characterization; it only adds to how badly the anime maimed him.           Also, on a less salty but still confused note, deleting all the Twice clones from the beginning of the scene and just having Spinner running along a wall past mobs of people instead of laboriously fighting his way through the street to the van was really dumb. Why did all those MLA people just stand there and let him run by? Where did all the Twice clones that just helped save Spinner from a huge flurry of long-distance attacks disappear to? Come on.

• Trumpet’s thought that using Sevens Loud will draw every bit of strength from their warriors, but that it’s necessary. Setting aside that it looks far less necessary when there hasn’t been a crowd of Twice clones fighting Trumpet’s people this whole time, just Spinner by his lonesome, we still lost quite a bit to this cut. Firstly, a nuance on the trade-off Incite gives—that its stat-boost is temporary, and that it’s borrowing from the future to pay for the present, a stock that is limited and a bill that will come due when the effect wears off.           Secondly, it’s another demonstration that the MLA leaders aren’t just thoughtlessly wasting their followers’ lives; they’re very consciously doing cost/benefit analysis on how much danger their people are in versus what stands to be gained by the potential exertion or outright deaths those people will suffer. It’s cold reasoning, yes, but that’s how the Liberation Army operates: not for the personal gain or lackadaisical ease of the people on top—Trumpet would just have been in the tower speaking through city-wide loudspeakers, if that were the case—but for the advancement of the group’s ideals.           It also just grants Trumpet some interiority, but of course the anime can’t have that.

• The note in Trumpet’s meta-ability explanation that the more his voice causes the air to vibrate, the stronger Incite’s effect. This is—good god, it is literally the entire design mentality behind Sevens Loud! Sevens Loud purpose isn't to make his voice louder so more people can hear him (which I would think is the most logical assumption an anime-only person would make as to why he puts it on); it’s to make himself louder because being louder enhances the boost. It’s about the quality of the effect, not the quantity of targets. This is why Trumpet has the thought about how using Sevens Loud will drain the strength reserves of his people. There’d be no correlation there if Sevens Loud were only about boosting his range.

• When Spinner got porcupined in the anime, they did a close-up on his face, possibly to avoid the gore of showing the spines piercing through his forearm. That’s fine, but they also emphasized the reaction by having him lose his grip on the huge fuck-off knife he had clutched in his teeth. In the manga, sure, he yells in pain, but he doesn’t lose the knife. Indeed, he gets the guy off him by slashing at him with it—a shot the anime dropped. So Spinner doesn’t even get to keep displays of his pain tolerance, a trait he doubtless improved during those six weeks against Machia. Why does the anime hate Spinner so much, you guys? Why did it go out of its way to make him look lamer, when Dabi and Toga were out there getting anime-original flourishes to make them look cooler?

• Spinner’s thoughts, “When I get inspired to act, I don’t know what the heck I’m doing! I’m just a loser jumping on a bandwagon. Or at least that’s what it looks like.” A humorous bit of self-awareness from Spinner here. The anime got at the self-awareness. The humor, as we’ll see, not so much.

• Spinner’s thoughts, “Look at me. Look at me!! With all that prejudice in your eyes!” Hah hah, laughed BNHA the anime nervously, what prejudice are you talking about, Spinner? No idea what you could possibly be referring to there! This one’s particularly annoying because, while one might think that the anime was just dodging the heteromorphobia angle it eradicated all references to back at the beginning of the arc, the prejudice line isn’t even about heteromorphobia, not really.           See, the Japanese line there literally translates to, “With those colored glasses!”—to see with colored glasses being a Japanese idiom for seeing something from a biased viewpoint. So aside from being a wordplay jab at Trumpet’s choice in eyewear, it’s also about Trumpet’s expressed view that Spinner, having been a shut-in with a weak quirk who decided to take his resentment out on the world, can’t possibly amount to anything much. So, what, did the people in charge of making those cuts think Trumpet was right? Why even keep the line where he disparages Spinner if you’re not going to let Spinner call it what it is? He’s not calling out fantasy racism there, anime! He’s calling out the bias against weak quirks that even the good guys in this world sometimes partake in!           Possibly it’s because non-villains in the world[2] sometimes use reasoning that leads logically to quirk supremacism that the anime got gunshy with it, or it was more reluctance to give the villains—and the Too-Real Iguchi Shuuichi especially—moral ground for accusations against their society that get too close to real life. Whatever the motivation, it’s a bullshit cut.

• Shigaraki calling RD “Detnerat,” presumably because he neither knows RD’s real name nor cares to dignify him by using his code name. The anime, again, made neither the connection nor Shigaraki’s recognition explicit, so it lost the specificity and pettiness of that little snub.

• A little exchange between Giran and a Twice clone as they flee. It doesn’t give you much you wouldn’t assume just from seeing them flee, but it always feels more immediate and empathetic when the characters talk and you can see their expressions, instead of just a quick shot of them from behind as they run away in complete silence. Heck, running away in complete silence is actively out of character for Twice!

• Because the anime has some kind of aversion/restriction on showing hand-related violence, it radically changed how Shigaraki lost his fingers,[3] resulting in the loss of several important shots. To the best of my parsing, in the manga, when Re-Destro makes that first big jump to avoid Shigaraki’s decay wave, he comes back down specifically aiming for Shigaraki’s outstretched left hand, spread wide and flat on the ground. Shigaraki tries to evade (you can see the blur of his left arm in the panel where RD lands), but either RD does manage to clip the hand or he simply hits the ground with so much force that the sheer explosive burst of rock shreds Shigaraki’s hand and part of his coat sleeve. Being so much larger, RD then simply snags Shigaraki by the wrist before he can get out of range. It’s very fast, a burst of speed and violence, and very different (read: cooler) from Shigaraki flipping end over end in slow motion in a way that seemed to imply visually that he was thrown well out of RD’s grabbing range.           As to the shots we lost? I counted three. First, Hana’s hand crumpling amidst all the flying debris. Second, that big dramatic panel of Shigaraki’s maimed hand ribboning blood into the air as the narration box finally drops Re-Destro’s identity and code name. Third, the shot of him catching Shigaraki, almost delicately, between one thumb and forefinger and delivering the, “Was it this hand that committed such evil acts?” line—a clear threat to what of that hand Shigaraki has remaining—as we find out what his meta-ability is.           This is all hugely dramatic in the manga, because, of course, readers always assumed Shigaraki needed all five fingers to activate his quirk, and here Re-Destro nigh-effortlessly robs him of fully half his capacity to use it. It’s a shocking turn-around and instantly ups RD’s threat level by allowing him to permanently maim Shigaraki in a way that no one, hero or villain, has done before or since. Robbing Re-Destro of the immediacy of that seemingly devastating blow—inflicted within moments of meeting the real Shigaraki—did immeasurable damage to his credibility as an arc boss.           The shot in the manga is also just arresting visually, with RD finally getting to properly loom over Shigaraki. Most of the shots up to this point have been framed such that, while RD is obviously bigger, he and Shigaraki have still been moving and fighting in a pretty level way. This is the first place where the viewer is situated so squarely behind Shigaraki that they can really feel how massive RD is in comparison. It’s certainly a more impressive visual than this mess—thanks, anime; thanks, whatever broadcasting standards forced overworked and uninspired animators to undertake a redraw of RD’s quirk reveal panel when every other member of the MLA brass had theirs carried over directly from the manga.

• A chapter-ending cliffhanger of Slidin’ Go helping direct traffic on the outskirts of Deika and the warning rumble as Gigantomachia approaches. Aside from being a nice little tension boost—Will Gigantomachia roll up just in time to see Re-Destro making a mess of Shigaraki? Who will he target? Will Shigaraki ever be able to win him over if he sees a scene like that?—it’s good foreshadowing for what the news reports will eventually be saying. Remember, the claim is that a bunch of villains lured Deika’s heroes away and then attacked the city while it was defenseless; that’s why we never see any of the MLA’s heroes involved with the fight once it starts. And now, here, we find out where they’ve been the whole time: making sure no outsiders get in who might be able to undermine that narrative.

Framing Shifts

• Once again had an MLA member using their Detnerat item say its name out loud, when it’s clear in the manga that they’re just thinking the names internally. Once again, it was kind of silly.

• When Spinner flashes back to watching Stain on TV and being inspired, the manga uses a shot of Stain’s face, snarling and defiant. The anime used—a shot of Stain from behind, only visible from the shoulders to the knees, hunched so that his lower back and ass were towards the camera. Bones… What exactly were you implying lit Spinner’s fire there? Or did you just not have the time or budget to go pull Stain’s reference sheets for drawing his face?

• A tone issue, but a major one: Spinner should be grinning, face alight with accusatory challenge, as he hurls his accusations of the MLA/Trumpet being the same bandwagon-jumping nobodies that he is. This is the moment in the manga where we see Spinner truly throw his hesitations and his doubts to the wind and embrace Shigaraki’s nihilistic fervor and the beauty, value and profundity of emptiness. So what if I’m empty? So what if he wants emptiness? Who cares about other peoples’ ideals if their ideals leave no room for me? It’s not a heroic triumph, but it’s a triumph all the same, and losing Spinner’s smile made the moment far too bitter.

• Meanwhile, in exactly the opposite problem, Shigaraki by this point is not smiling. In fact, he’s barely on his feet, swaying violently in place with accompanying sound effects. While his words are openly mocking, he seems to wholly lack the energy to back them up with his usual verve. The anime didn’t have him smiling, admittedly, but the whole time the ‘camera’ wasn’t directly on his face, his voice actor was reading the lines with an uneven, chuckling cadence that suggested Shigaraki was seconds away from breaking into howls of laughter. He was also, of course, impossibly clean, at a point at which his manga counterpart is muddy, bloody and tattered from the horrifically extended combat he’s been living for six weeks. It’s stuff like this that made it so impossible to take the Army or even Machia as much of a threat in the anime, when, other than the red cords on his hands being broken, Shigaraki looked absolutely no different than usual.

Additions

• Gave Spinner a tiny bit of new animation when he got mobbed by people hopped up on Incite. It was nice, but if they were going to give him a flourish, I’d rather it have come when he swipes Porcupine Dude off him with a combat knife. Or, you know, just kept the bit of him telling the Twices to attack and his reasoning on why.

• Cut inside briefly to show a ballerina girl dancing through a darkened apartment right before she sliced a neat circle out of the wall. I love it, A+, exactly the kind of expansion on the action of the manga I wanted to see. My only complaint is that her manga self looked more like Pearl from Steven Universe.[4] XD

• A quick new shot of RD when Shigaraki was hounding him about his feelings. His teeth were visibly gritted, the corners of his mouth pulled down. It stands out because there’s only one shot of RD there in the manga, and in it, he’s smiling, close-mouthed and calm. The anime copied said shot, smile and all, then cut away, and when it cut back, Re-Destro had a totally different expression on his face. Baffling. Anime!RD having a dour scowl everywhere manga!RD is smiling in a tight, controlled way was all over the fight scene, and it detracted from the sense of RD’s menace every time.

Chapter 234 – Destruction Sense

• The illustration(s) accompanying Re-Destro’s, “Let’s not judge people by their quirks,” line. The pictures are cute, but the real loss there was the note informing us that they’re excerpts from a children’s book published by Shoowaysha—Curious’s outfit—called Quirks and Us. That’s a very concrete illustration of the kinds of things the MLA is getting up to in the world, and an equally concrete thing an anime-only viewer lost. Of course, that viewer never even found out Curious was in publishing, so it wouldn’t have meant anything on that front, but there is one other thing I think is notable: the way that book implies that the only people explicitly pushing a “don’t judge other people by their quirks” message are the radical Liberationists.           See, the rest of the story touches on the virtues of a nonjudgmental attitude here and there, but actually finding people willing to say it out loud is—unprecedented, I think. Deku comes across situations where he could say something like that multiple times and he never, ever does—not to Shouto, nor to Shinsou, nor to Eri, nor to the giant fox lady. And that’s not even touching on Shouji’s mask, or the discrimination Spinner faced, or the CRC “losing support” without being declared illegal. I think the manga itself is against judging people by their quirks, but it’s interesting that it doesn’t make its characters into mouthpieces to say as much. This is because its characters are thoroughly enmeshed in a society that very much does judge people by their quirks, regardless of whether or not it will say that doing so is bad or rude or prejudiced.           Re-Destro and the MLA aren’t immune, of course—Re-Destro himself says that quirks are linked to personality—but they adhere to a different set of values than the larger society does. While Hero Society talks about quirks in terms of being heroic and/or useful versus villainous and/or useless, the MLA spectrums instead emphasize how capable a person’s quirk is of helping them exert their will and how ambitious the quirk’s bearer is in that exertion. That is, their ethics are less about morality and utility-to-society than they are about aspiration and utility-to-self.[5] Both worldviews have their pros and cons, but that, I think, is what the children’s book is getting at when it says not to “judge”—don’t assign an arbitrary moral value to a quirk; judge a person by their actions.           And isn’t it interesting, that the only explicit verbal statement of that value comes from the leader of a radical cult descended from a famous insurrectionist quoting a children’s book published by a member of selfsame radical cult? The value is not ever stated by a member of the heroic cast, so are we to assume that the heroes don't actually believe it? Do people profess to believe it but everyone knows it’s only for courtesy’s sake, with only the MLA willing to breach that wall of “things we don’t talk about in polite society” to actually talk about it in anything other than platitudes? Obviously, you lose this entire line of discussion when the "don't judge people by their quirks" value is just never mentioned at all.

• The phrase, “In that case,” from RD’s, “You will never measure up to me.” It establishes continuity to what RD was saying before. He’s not taking breaks from talking while Shigaraki has flashbacks; the two are happening concurrently.

• RD’s, “Cracking apart…?” reaction to his Decayed fingertip, and the dripping blood from the injury. I’m not hugely fussed about the former, but I like the latter as indicative of what Re-Destro’s Stress powers actually do. That is to say, he isn’t covering himself in a thick shell of Stress power or something; his Stress powers make him physically larger, infusing his body and swelling his size. That’s why he bleeds when Shigaraki touches his fingertip.           Admittedly, the size distinction was more obvious in the anime, where the audience watched RD’s shoulders inflate like balloons last episode, compared to the manga, where you don’t get in-between animation. Still, given that RD still has that wound even when he goes back down to normal size, and is still wearing bandages for his speech a week later,[6] it’d be nice to mark the severity of the wound with a bit of blood. Oddly, the anime did keep the wound for the crater scene, visible red slices opened in the flesh along the length of his finger, very obviously the sort of injury that would have bled upon being first sustained. Maybe RD ran afoul of whatever the studio mandate is on when Decay has a dust effect and when it leaves gore? (More of that later.)

• Shigaraki’s, “Mother!” for the first panel we see of her. It’s obvious enough who she probably is, but odd that we got a whole bunch of narration for Hana, and likewise an acknowledgment of his grandparents, but not even a single word for Nao.

• Very significantly drops the grandfather’s, “Eating yummy things helps make the sadness go away.” Grandpa’s not just randomly handing Tenko his favorite snack in that memory—he’s trying to treat some kind of grief or wrong without actually addressing the wrong, opting to just put a flavorful band-aid on it. That could be fine if it were something outside Grandpa’s control, but we’ve already gotten some early hints from Hana’s phrasing that things are not okay in the household, and thus the grandfather’s attempt to bribe Tenko with sweets is just as ominous a sign of what’s to come as the grandmother’s attempt to guilt him into not crying lest he make her cry too.

• A little shot of Shigaraki stirring in the rubble when RD answers the phone. It’s a nice demonstration of their size difference, especially comparing both of them to Machia, who we just saw tearing through buildings like the kaiju his theme music declares him to be.

Framing Shifts

• When Shigaraki narrates that Hana always took him by the hand when he got weepy, she actually does take his hand in the manga, her fingers wrapped around his, his clasped over hers. It emphasizes that this is what he can’t do anymore, simply hold hands with people, the innocence lost aspect, and it suggests the closeness he once had with his sister.           In the anime, she reached out a hand but wound up taking him by the wrist instead, his hand splayed open beneath hers. This suggested, albeit very implicitly, that maybe that innocence was something he never had from the beginning; it also suggested less reciprocity in his relationship with Hana. Even though Tomura said in narration that their hands were joined, what we saw was that Hana just pulled him where she wanted him and he didn’t fight her on it, not that he held her hand in return.           Alternatively, the anime could have been drawing a parallel to how her hand would eventually be gripping his wrist in a much different context (a more necrotic one, for starters) later in life, though if that's what they were going for, they could have stood to tweak the dialogue so it actually matched the onscreen action. (Credit to @robotlesbianjavert and @aysall respectively for these two theories!)

• Shigaraki still having his fingers when Re-Destro squeezed his hand made RD look like a real moron. I assume the intention was that he assumed he’d done enough damage—broken bones, torn ligaments, etc—to prevent Shigaraki from being able to move his hand in more than spastic twitches, but like, if all it takes is a hard enough spasmodic clench to dust you, you are playing much riskier games than the MLA is generally portrayed as favoring. (Not that the anime kept many of the scenes that demonstrated all the planning and prep that the MLA did as groundwork for their attack, as I have complained about at length.)           In the same sequence, Anime!RD turned and bodily hurled Shigaraki away from him, while Manga!RD threw him a similar distance with nothing more than a flick of a finger. Anime, why you gotta make Re-Destro look so lame all the time?

Additions

• Just one episode prior, the anime managed to turn in an entirely reasonable assemblage of swiping and dodging between Shigaraki and Re-Destro while RD was rambling on about the Mother of Quirks. What the hell was the excuse for this episode’s ridiculous shot of Shigaraki literally running circles—big, broad circles—around RD multiple times in the time it took RD to finish one (1) thought? For heaven’s sake, if you don’t have the budget for flashy, just use slow motion or more flashback animation or something. I know there’s more leeway for long thoughts in manga, where the reader understands that thoughts are moving far faster than action, and that it can be hard to bridge that gap for anime, where motion is motion but voice acting still has to rattle its way to the end of a sentence. I understand that measures have to be taken to account for that. Still, I promise, something that just looks a bit padded is much preferable to something that looks outright dumb.

• I admit to having found huge Stress monster RD pulling out a teeeeeny-tiny cellphone very funny—even more so the distinct cracking sound it made when Skeptic reported in bad news and RD’s fingers tightened infinitesimally—but the manga suggests fairly strongly that RD’s just answering on some kind of earpiece or micro-receiver, the same kind of thing Ujiko hands out and that Skeptic is associated with on multiple occasions. It’d be nice if RD could have kept more of the jokes he actually makes, the ones that stem from his native good humor, rather than the anime making up new ones based entirely in the contrast of Re-Destro and the viewer’s expectations of Re-Destro.

Chapter 235 – Shimura Tenko: Origin

• The man at the door, whom Nao is apologizing to at the beginning of the Tenko flashback and the apparent reason Tenko got busted for playing hero. I don’t love the way deleting this obscured that Tenko, in some fashion, troubled someone to lead to Kotarou dragging him down the hall (the anime also dropped Kotarou’s subsequent line, “Causing trouble?!” that’s supposed to supplement his, “Playing hero again?”), but it’s not like the manga doesn’t imply that the same thing would happen for any hero-based rules infraction, regardless of whether it troubled strangers or not. No, the much, much funnier thing to me is how it just fuckin’ torpedoed the most obvious thing people point to when they posit that All For One gave Tenko Decay, kicking off the entire tragedy: the man at the door with the conspicuously shadowed face and the even more conspicuously AFO-like suit and dress shirt with the top button unfastened.           Listen, I hate that theory and what it would do to the narrative of Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko as Hero Society’s long-overdue reckoning, the villain they can’t put down and the victim they can’t silence, so watching the anime summarily cut out the scene that really kicked the theory into overdrive was very validating! Conversely, I still can't deny that it's a plausible theory, so if it does turn out to be true, that means the anime shot itself in the foot on the most obvious bit of foreshadowing this side of AFO addressing Tenko by name when he finds him in the alley. The schadenfreude of that would also be very funny. Really, unlike every other cut this season, I regard this one as win-win for my personal experience with the anime.           Incidentally, I was very prepared to complain about the anime dropping all the changes of clothes the Shimura family goes through over the course of the flashback—I regard the timelapse as one of the major points against the AFO Gave Tenko Decay theory, since it’s never taken a quirk bestowed by AFO multiple days, maybe even multiple weeks, to kick in before—but it turns out I’m a lot less bothered about them not taking the time to change the side characters’ clothes when the anime also deletes the dude at the door who is the only reason I care about clarity re: how much time the flashback covers! But just for the record, while they had more outfits than I was expecting them to, the family did go through fewer changes of clothes in the anime than in the manga.

• The full echo of the line about kids being sneaky and simple in favor of Narrator!Shigaraki just letting out this exhausted, rueful, “Ahhh, kids are…” I actually rather like it. It’s a clear reference back to the earlier line without having to restate the whole thing, and Uchiyama Kouki’s delivery is really excellent.

• Kotaro’s first slap of Tenko, the only one directly portrayed on-panel, and Mon-chan’s barking in response. On the one hand, I think there’s an argument to be made for the scene flowing a bit better like this—why wouldn’t Grandpa try to stop him from going for that second slap; why wouldn’t Nao pass Hana off to Grandma and do something instead of just standing there yelling for the entire scene? It makes a bit more sense if they’re hesitant to intervene because Kotarou has “only” grabbed at Tenko’s collar and they don’t yet know how that it’s going to escalate to naked physical violence in a way that it never has before.           On the other hand, that first slap is so visceral and shocking. Nowhere else in the manga is domestic violence portrayed more sharply and directly, in greater detail or more cruelly generous panel space than in this moment. It’s in the difference in size between Kotarou and Tenko, the force behind the hit that’s enough to knock Tenko clear off his feet, the pages upon pages of gut-churning lead-up to this moment and what we know will be following soon after.           Also too, it makes the family’s failure to help Tenko much worse that no one else acts when Kotarou pulls back for a second hit. The first one, you could almost excuse because no one saw it coming; the second throws those justifications out the window and spits on them afterward. Two hits are important—not only for what they tell Tenko in the moment about his family's inaction, but because two hits speak in ways one hit doesn't to how wildly uneven the power balance is in the house, that Nao and her parents could witness something like that and not only fail to intercede, but then take who knows how long to work up the courage to confront Kotarou afterwards.           I understand very well the fear of showing this in a family TV timeslot—the violence is so much more real than any big fantasy beat-‘em-up could ever be—but it’s the kind of thing that really drives home what Tenko needed to be saved from even back then, a social issue that heroes as they currently exist were in no position to address. Far from demonstrating that heroes aren't at fault for what happened to Tenko, though, what this scene truly does is vividly illustrate the flaws in All Might's social contract, in which his power and smile seem to promise that he can save absolutely everyone, only to leave children like Tenko out in the cold with no explanation as to why. It's brutal because it has to be, and the anime shying away from depicting Kotarou's physical abuse undercut that.

Framing Shifts

• There was a bizarre, nonsensical change to the scene at the beginning of the chapter where RD is figuring out how Shigaraki survived/got back up after taking a Burden attack head-on. The manga’s explanation is that Shigaraki didn’t actually take a full force hit because he was Decaying it even as it was blowing him back. This is somewhat silly, given that even a reduced-strength Burden is still strong enough to put him through multiple buildings. It is, however, less silly than the anime’s take, in which Shigaraki touched Re-Destro rather than the corporealized Stress of Burden. How Re-Destro survived a full-fingered touch from Shigaraki’s completely uninjured right hand[7] went totally unexplained; the problem was then compounded by Re-Destro delivering manga-accurate lines about Burden not being an evadable attack despite “evasion” having nothing to do with Shigaraki’s actions.           Anime!Shigaraki didn’t dodge the Burden attack any more than Manga!Shigaraki did; unlike Manga!Shigaraki, however, Anime!Shigaraki also did nothing to reduce the impact of the attack. So not only was how Shigaraki survived the Burden attack not explained, the change to the material also opened up the plot hole of how Re-Destro survived a direct touch attack that Shigaraki in the manga never lands.

• There was also an extremely weird decision made to give Tenko dark, gray-blue eyes, obviously reminiscent of Nana’s, and suggest that they became red at the same time as his hair was changing to white. But in the manga, other than the size, there’s no difference between young Tenko’s eyes and how Shigaraki’s eyes have always been drawn—an unshaded iris with a visible pupil and a relatively thick line delineating the iris from the white of the sclera. Tenko’s eyes never matched those of anyone else in his family, least of all his dark-eyed grandmother. His hair changed color because of a trauma response,[8] but his eyes were always red.

• Relocated Shigaraki’s first, “Little kids…are sneakier than you’d expect. And simpler,” to underscore Hana showing him Nana’s picture in the study, squarely centering the line on her. And like, yes, that line does get its bitter echo later when Hana panics in the face of her father’s fury and throws the blame onto Tenko—but that line isn’t just about her; it’s also about what Tenko wanted to hear from the other adults in his life. It didn’t matter that his father didn’t approve; if he could get at least one adult to say he could be a hero, to take his side, then he could feel vindicated.           It’s a child’s sneaky, simple reasoning: if an adult’s words are absolute, you just have to get one (1) adult to agree with you. It’s asking Dad if you can do something you don’t think Mom will agree to, and then going to Mom with Dad’s permission held defensively in-hand. Laying the line over Hana obscures that it’s as much about Tenko’s craving for external validation as it is Hana’s (entirely understandable) deceitful streak.

• After half a season full of internal monologue being voiced aloud even when it made little sense to do so, the anime decided to render clearly talk-bubbled dialogue—Tenko’s chatting at Mon about how he feels like he could take on the world—as internal monologue instead. Who talks to their animals in their heads when they could be talking at them directly like pet owners the world over?

Additions

• Added a few extra stills of Kotarou rebuking Tenko and dragging him around. I don’t think they’re inaccurate to the situation, though I wonder if it really needed to be underlined two more times than the manga did. Maybe they were trying to make up in advance for deleting the first slap?

• Added a few new stills of Nana and child!Kotarou. They hurt my soul and I love them without reservation.

Chapter 236 – Shimura Tenko: Origin, Part 2

• Hana’s second apology. What needs to get across was communicated with her first apology, but I do think the second one adds some naturalism to the dialogue. It feels very normal for a child feeling extremely guilty to apologize multiple times, like the more times they say it, the more true/convincing it will become.

• A bit of Tenko’s internal monologue—thinking Hana’s name, and Mon’s, and that he can’t talk. The anime slipped some attempts at verbalizing “Mon” into the dialogue, and it was painfully obvious just from listening to him gag and choke that he was too horror-struck to get words out, in ways that would be a little harder to convey on the page. Also, he thinks again that he can’t talk just as Hana runs away, so it gets across regardless. No real complaints here.

• Some thoughts about how he’s itchy, which, given what his itch represents (or at least what he thinks it does), they probably should have kept for continuity’s sake.

• Tenko’s last, “Hana-chan!” just as he grabs for her. I can imagine it having just that little bit more desperate impact, especially given Sekine Arisa’s great delivery of the first “Hana-chan!” but his delivery of the first one was great—weeks later, I can still remember it clearly—so it’s not a snip I’m inclined to doomsay about.

• Hana’s verbalization as the Decay hits her. Given that they kept Mon-chan’s last whimper, it’s kind of inconsistent not to keep this. It’s grueling, sure, but no more so than the rest of the horror show shortly to follow.

• An echo of Nao’s defense of Kotarou’s anti-hero stance. Frankly, I think anime already over-indulges in echoing dialogue we’ve heard not ten minutes prior, so I don’t mind losing this—in the manga, the moments would have fallen in different chapters, so it makes more sense to squeeze in the little reminder, but that wasn’t necessary for the anime, in which the original moment and the callback happened barely more than five minutes apart. It was obvious what the mental image was meant to draw attention to, since Tomura was narrating about exactly what his grievance was, and the image was followed by the two equivalent moments with the grandparents. (Admittedly, it hurt that correlation a bit that Grandpa’s line about the ohagi being intended to make the sadness go away got cut, but the sentiment was pretty clear from the man’s expression of nervy, abashed guilt regardless.)

• The line of Decay that splits Nao’s eye, one of the more vividly horrific little grace notes in the chapter. It undercut the grotesquerie just the tiniest bit, but the scene’s grotesque as-is, so I can understand that slight edit for TV standards. The discrepancy between Decay-to-dust and Decay-to-gore, discussed below in Framing Shifts, was much more damaging.

• A shot of Kotarou just after he hits Tenko with the tree pruning shears in which he looks, briefly, incredibly distraught, like he’s just realized what a monster he’s become. The anime didn’t make the slightest of attempts to keep that spasm of horror, grief, and regret, and thus lost that last moment of sympathy for a man deeply traumatized by a heroic character’s actions. It’s my only complaint about Anime!Kotarou, who I was otherwise far more pleased with than I was afraid might be the case, but it’s a complaint I must register nonetheless.

• A bit of inarticulate yelling before Tenko screams, “You... Die!!” It helps get across Tenko’s rage overflowing, to have that wordless garble before he can actually wrap words around it. He was still having trouble talking, too, so it makes sense that his first vocalization would just be a long, incomprehensible screech. That said, with the music there to supplement the mood in a way the manga would lack, I don’t think the anime’s rendition of the scene suffered overmuch from its absence.

Framing Shifts

• The anime, of course, has always gone the dust route for Decay because Decay is a little too gruesome for family hour TV, and anyway, when Tomura gets as fast with Decay as he is in Deika, he really is just insta-dusting people, such that not even blood remains. But he wasn’t that fast or that thorough as a child, hence why it’s all so much gorier—and it needs to be, because it’s hard to imagine Hana freaking out like she does if all she sees is a pile of dust instead of, well, dog gobbets. (Also, if his family had gone the dust route, it would have been very hard to convince the audience that Tomura’s hands are his family hands and not fakes provided to AFO by Ujiko.)           This obviously put the anime in a difficult spot, but apparently the decision they settled on was—to not decide? Everyone we saw in the active process of decaying decayed into dust as usual, but then once they were done decaying, once that transition from person to ruin was complete, there were all these heaps of gore everywhere. It was a very strange and distracting inconsistency that hurt the scene much more than any of the nearly invisible cuts, and I hope the blu-rays will change it.

• Added Grandpa catching Grandma as she staggered at the sight of things in the yard. Since his body language in the manga (the only non-Decayed shot of him in the sequence) has him leaned more forward, like he’s still halfway through running towards the kids, I thought this was a nice little touch on why he stopped, for reasons other than just the obvious.

                                                         ---

Episode 111 was about half of a really strong episode. Most of my complaints about the Shimura Family flashback are very minor, and most of the ones that are less minor are still easy to overlook when the rest of the presentation was so strong. Unfortunately, the non-flashback half of the episode had as many problems as ever, and those aren't over yet.

Come back next time for Part Five, Episode 112: Origin: Shigaraki Tomura. Assuming my complaining about the finalized gutting of Spinner's arc doesn't get too out of hand—which it may; if so, I'll tack on one final part to wrap things up—I'll also be running down a quick overview of the Paranormal Liberation Front scenes in the Endeavor Agency arc and some various odds & ends.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Yes, I know the Skeptic Confronts Twice scene goes nowhere, but maybe, instead of deleting it, they could have patched it up by showing Skeptic turning away from the confrontation when the tower went down? You know, actually made an effort to improve on the material?

[2] Bakugou, of course, but also Inko, Kotarou, and, very prominently, even All Might. Deku circa MVA has an entire arc lying in wait for him about how much he’s internalized All Might’s paternalism re: having the strongest quirk.

[3] Indeed, as of the scene in the crater, he still hadn’t lost them at all! He had his prosthetic by the time of the speech, so I guess we’re meant to assume that Ujiko or some MLA doctor declared them past saving and amputated them. I hope I don’t need to tell you how unbelievably lame it is to have a shounen manga character sustain a permanent injury like that off-panel.

[4] It’s the pointy nose.

[5] That, at least, is the best way I’ve found to reconcile all the related-but-distinct values professed by the various members of the MLA brass, from Re-Destro’s focus on liberation and purpose, what exactly Trumpet chooses to cite when he’s talking about Spinner not “amounting” to anything much, Geten’s open extolling of quirk supremacy, and so on.

[6] In the first big double-page spread. Oddly, no bandaging is visible in the other panel that has a good shot of that hand, possibly because Horikoshi was more focused on drawing RD’s empty pant leg. The anime kept the obvious wound during the crater scene, but not the bandages during the speech.

[7] I assume, anyway, that Re-Destro only survives Shigaraki’s first touch because it’s a weaker Decay, coming as it does from only from two fingers rather than five.

[8] The fabled Marie Antoinette Syndrome. Never been scientifically documented as such (hair can whiten because of extreme stress, but not overnight) but it endures in fiction because it’s pleasingly dramatic. Trauma-based eye-color changes, not so much.

#my villain academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha meta #my writing #stillness has salt

[petersasteria]

The Life of A Mobster's Wife || Arvin Russell

Russell || Main || Taglist

Mob!Arvin x Reader (Modern AU) Requested? Nah 9,818 words (pls send feedback bc this is the longest mob fic i've done and i want to know if it's alright or if i should just leave the mob au alone sksk) W: asshole!arvin, doesn't follow canon, curse words, killing, cheating, so many fucked up shit

* * * *

Being married to a mobster wasn’t easy. Everything has to be kept under wraps whilst having a lavish lifestyle. But when you’re young, you’re naive and you think that everything will work out and you’ll live happily ever after like some Disney fairytale. Everyone seems to forget that Disney princess stories were adapted from the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen. You didn’t know that your life would take such a dark turn the moment you met Arvin. The second he smiled at you, you were a goner. You were hooked on him; addicted. Everything should’ve been a red flag and the people around you told you that something about him seemed off. That should have alarmed you, but you took what they said personally. One by one, they all left you and only Arvin was left by your side. That should have been a sign too.

You told yourself that you’d be happy and you were. You were together for six months and then you got married. Now, six years later, you have a son who just turned six and a husband who doesn’t even sleep in the same bed as you anymore. You didn’t know what went wrong, but everything suddenly changed.

Arvin made sure you and your son were away from him, so he bought a big apartment in the Upper East Side for both of you. Arvin would stay there sometimes, but most of the time, he was working; killing, kidnapping people for ransom, selling weapons, selling drugs, etc. He wanted you away from those especially, Hayden; your son.

You wanted for things to change because Hayden hardly ever sees Arvin and they don’t have a connection. You also wanted another baby and you felt like Arvin was too busy for that. Wanting to focus on your husband, you decided it was best to hire a nanny to attend to your son’s needs. However, it was difficult to look for a nanny when you’re keeping everything a secret. You were lucky enough to hire a personal doctor.

Amelia Avery Hudson is a trauma surgeon, but you hired her as your personal doctor to treat your husband and his men if they have wounds. The other doctors you asked turned down your offer. When you asked Amelia, she immediately agreed. Amelia didn’t really have a choice. She applied because she needed to pay her student loans back. Plus, she needed to keep a roof over her head and rent was expensive in New York. She’s a fresh graduate and she had trouble finding a job that fitted her career path. Your offer was perfect and she saw it just in time. She hoped that no one took the job yet and luck was on her side because she’s been your personal doctor ever since.

Amelia’s only there during the evening from 7PM until 12 midnight. Having signed an NDA, she had no one to tell about the things she’s seen. She knew that if she even tried, Arvin would somehow find out and kill her with no mercy. She didn’t want to risk it.

Amelia’s feisty, but she was nice. The poor girl had a terrible life. She kept moving from one foster home to another when she was younger. Because of that, she grew up strong. She’s a remarkable woman and you were glad that you met her. You weren’t close, but you had a good relationship with her. Sometimes, she’d entertain Hayden which meant a lot to you.

You put up a poster for the nanny position and a few applicants were interested. You looked through their resumes and interviewed them one by one. Out of everyone, only one person stood out. Her name was Celeste.

“Tell me more about yourself, Celeste.” You smiled at her. You didn’t feel comfortable interviewing people in your apartment, so you always made sure the interviewees met you in your favorite restaurant in the upper east side.

“I-I’m Celeste Regina Dela Cruz. Eighteen years old. Um-”

“I know those things.” You laughed. “It’s on your resume. Just loosen up and tell me about yourself. Would it make you more comfortable if I went first?”

Celeste nodded, clearly intimidated. You smiled and said, “I’m Y/N Russell and I never finished college because I got married. I dropped out and left everything behind to be with my husband. I was also pregnant when we got married, so we never really had a decent alone time. I volunteer a lot for my son’s school and I make sure that my son has everything. Right now, he’s on a waiting list for multiple colleges.”

“Wait, how old is he?”

“He’s 6 years old.” You said before taking a sip of water. “It’s nice to be prepared, though. At least we know that he has a slot when the time comes.”

Celeste nodded and you motioned for her to start talking about herself. She widened her eyes and opened her mouth to talk, but the waiter arrived with your food. You both thanked the waiter and began eating.

“Please continue, Celeste.” You said as you took a bite of your food.

“I’m Celeste and I’m from the Philippines.” She said. “No wonder your accent is thick.” You pointed out and nodded for her to continue.

“I was able to come here because my tita- ay sorry- aunt; my aunt brought me here a year ago. I graduated high school, but I can’t go to college yet because my aunt is sick and she’s the one who pays for my schooling. College is very expensive and we can’t afford it anymore because of my aunt’s medicines.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You frowned. You felt bad, truly. Here you were, a college dropout but you’re living a luxurious lifestyle. Of course, that’s all thanks to Arvin. You were just lucky that you married a rich man. But as you sat in front of Celeste, you felt the need to do something nice for her. After all, in your mind, she was hired already.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Celeste smiled. “We’re getting by. My friend told me to apply to you and that’s why I’m here.”

“I understand.” You said as you folded your hands on the table. “When can you start?”

“Ha? What?” Celeste furrowed her eyebrows.

“You’re hired, Celeste.” You chuckled. “When can you start?”

“Um… as soon as possible!” Celeste exclaimed and you nodded.

“Pack your things and I’ll send for Pemberley to pick you up at your home address. I’d just like to confirm that your address on your resume is still your home, yes?” You asked and she nodded quickly.

“Okay. I’ll give it to Pemberley. He’ll pick you up at 9:30AM sharp.” You grinned. You both shook hands and continued eating.

The next day, you welcomed Celeste in your apartment and gave her a tour. She looked amazed at everything and it was entertaining to see. You told her that she wasn’t allowed in the master bedroom unless told and she wasn’t allowed in Arvin’s office.

You looked at your watch and gasped, “Oh, my! I’m late for a meeting. Make yourself at home and don’t forget to pick up Hayden from pre-school at 2:15. I have a note for you in your room. Please read it.” You quickly grabbed your bag and coat and left.

Celeste stood there and made her way to her room. After roaming around for 2 minutes, she finally saw her room and read the note.

Hello, Celeste! These are the rules:

Hayden can’t eat seafood. He is allergic.

No sugar-y or chocolate-y drinks before bed. Only one glass of milk with no sugar.

Sandwiches are not allowed to be eaten in his room because of crumbs.

If Hayden has no classes, you may take him to the park or the museum. As long as there are only a few people.

Stay away from crowded places. I beg.

Give Hayden a bath before bed.

Call me only when severe emergencies happen.

Your laundry schedule is the same as Hayden’s; TTh.

Always bring a small first aid kit in your bag and make sure you have a full container of hand sanitizer AT ALL TIMES.

Keep an eye on Hayden. He is your main priority.

P.S. Have fun! Eat whatever you want and if you need anything, please give Jose your own list before he goes grocery shopping.

Celeste taped the note on the wall next to her bed and started unpacking her things. She looked at her watch and realized that it was time to pick up Hayden from school. She quickly grabbed her small bag and ran to the front door.

Hayden’s school was just around the corner, so it was easy for Celeste to pick him up. There were many nannies waiting for kids to be picked up and Celeste was a bit overwhelmed that her job was actually starting. She never had training or anything.

A few more minutes of waiting, the door opened and out came a plethora of running and screaming children. During the apartment tour you gave her from hours before, she remembered you showing her a family picture that was recently taken. With that in mind, Celeste was able to remember what Hayden looked like.

Celeste looked around and saw a young boy by the steps, looking around. “Hayden!” Celeste shouted, causing the boy to look at her. Celeste walked over and said, “Hayden Russell?”

The boy nodded. She smiled, “I’m your new nanny. My name is Celeste.”

Using his manners, Hayden shook Celeste’s hand. Celeste grinned and took Hayden’s bag from him. She held his hand and they walked home. The walk home was short and quiet, but it was comfortable. When they walked into the fancy apartment building and into the elevator, Hayden spoke up.

“Can I call you ‘Celie’, instead? Like a super agent secret name? It’ll be cool.” Hayden said, causing Celeste to smile at him.

“Sure!” Celeste said.

When they arrived in the apartment unit, you were already home. Hayden ran up to you and you bent down to pick him up and hug him.

“How was school?” You asked as you kissed his forehead.

“It was fun! We learned so many things and we had arts and crafts and we-”

“That’s great, sweetie!” You smiled before putting him down. “You can play sudoku in the living room.”

Hayden made a face, “But I hate sudoku.”

“Yes, but it’ll help you stimulate your brain. Think of it as a mental exercise.” You grinned before softly nudging him to the living room where his sudoku book was waiting for him on the coffee table. Hayden begrudgingly walked to the living room and you turned to Celeste, “We need to talk.”

You turned around and walked to your husband’s office. He wasn’t there anyway and you had the freedom to speak business there. “Follow me.” You said without looking behind you. Celeste was scared shitless. She did the sign of the cross and prayed on her way to Arvin’s office.

“Aba Ginoong Maria, napupuno ka ng grasya, Ang Panginoong Diyos ay sumasaiyo. Bukod kang pinagpala sa babaeng lahat at pinagpala rin naman ang anak mong si Hesus. Santa Maria, Ina ng Diyos, ipanalangin mo kaming makasalanan ngayon at kung kami’y mamamatay. Amen. (Hail Mary, Full of Grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you amongst women and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners. Now and at the hour of our death. Amen.)” Celeste muttered under her breath. You opened the door to Arvin’s office and was immediately met with the darkness due to the closed curtains and lights that were not switched on. The only light present was the sun’s light peeping through the spaces between the curtains. You walked in and Celeste followed suit and closed the door behind her.

You sat on Arvin’s chair and read the papers that you previously laid there on the table. “Please, sit.” You motioned for her to sit in front of you and she did.

“I told you that I had a meeting earlier. I met with important people and we went through your records.” You told Celeste. Celeste knew that she didn’t do anything wrong and that she had a clean record, but that didn’t stop her from worrying.

Was she in trouble for declining her father’s call from the Philippines? Or perhaps she was in trouble for cursing her cousin. She wasn’t sure.

“And I’d like to applaud you for having remarkable and outstanding grades. Straight A’s?! I didn’t know you were smart. You didn’t put in your resume that you were a valedictorian.” You smiled sweetly. You were impressed.

“I didn’t put it because I don’t want to be hired because I’m a valedictorian. I want to be hired because you want me for the job.” Celeste said and you nodded in understanding.

“That’s very humble of you.” You smiled. “Anyway, I submitted your records to multiple colleges and they immediately got back to me.”

You opened the drawer and took out at least ten envelopes from well known universities. You handed the envelopes to her and motioned for her to read each one.

Yale University

Stanford University

Harvard University

New York University

Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Cornell University

Brown University

University of California, Los Angeles

University of Pennsylvania

Columbia University

“I want you to look through those and read each one. You also have the freedom to check each university’s website to see what they look and what they offer and if what they’re offering is what you want, tell me.” You told her.

“That’s very nice of you, ma’am.” Celeste said, clearly overwhelmed with what you just told her. “I can’t afford it. It’s too- mahal. Ang mahal po kasi.(expensive. It’s too expensive.)”

You stared at her as she spoke to you in a foreign language. Not just any foreign language, her native language. She quickly realized what she said and said, “The tuition fee is too expensive.”

“You know, for a valedictorian, you’re kind of slow.” You joked. “Sweetie, you don’t have to worry about it because we’ll pay for your tuition fee.”

She gasped and squealed, “Thank you!”. She jumped out of her chair, did a small dance, and went up to hug you which took you by surprise. You smiled brightly and patted her arm as a sign of affection. It felt nice to do something good for once even though your husband does a lot of bad things. Sometimes you think that all the good things you’ve done are payback for all the bad things Arvin has done.

Celeste quickly let go of you and went back to her seat. She cleared her throat and apologized and you waved your hand and said that it was nothing. You debated with yourself on whether you should tell Celeste about your husband’s mob or not. You decided against it and told yourself that you’ll tell her when she asks.

“I’ll enroll you in any university you pick and I’ll make an arrangement that your tasks during the day until you pick up Hayden, are done face to face. Meaning, you’ll physically attend classes at the university of choice. Of course, that only applies here in New York.” You explained.

“Should you choose a university that isn't in New York, you'll be enrolled in online classes." You told her and she nodded.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you so much!" Celeste said sincerely which made you smile.

"You're welcome. Study well and you can join Hayden in the living room now. I'm sure he's done with his sudoku. He should be reading his French book now." You said as you looked at the time on your phone before standing up. Celeste stood up too and held the letters close to her chest.

"I think my husband is coming home tonight, so we'll eat dinner at his favorite restaurant. Get ready at 6PM. Knowing him, he'll be late." You said and left the office with Celeste following behind. She closed the door and quickly went to the living room to check out the letters.

You went straight to your shared bedroom with Arvin and quickly went to your walk in closet that Arvin built for you. You scanned through the rack for dresses and scanned through multiple shoes to match your dress. You knew it was still 3:30PM, but you liked being prepared.

Your phone rang and you immediately answered it without looking to see who it was. “Hello?” You answered while grabbing a cerulean colored cocktail dress from the rack and holding it against you and checking it in front of a mirror.

“Y/N, honey, it’s me.” Arvin said. His voice was raspy and there’s no doubt that it’s because of his smoking habit. He’s trying to lessen it because according to him, he didn’t want to have cancer and he didn’t want his life cut short. Despite that, he still smoked… less than before. He was really trying. Key word: trying.

“You’re smoking right now, huh?” You asked, already tired of his shit. You loved him so much, but you didn’t have the energy of being his wife anymore. Probably because he doesn’t treat you like one.

“Mind your own business, woman!” Arvin hissed. You knew he didn’t mean it, but it still kind of hurt. “I’m just worried about you and you said that you’ll lessen the smoking.” You said calmly. You didn’t want to fight with him; it’s useless.

“I am. This is my third stick today and it’s late in the afternoon.” Arvin said, pushing his hair back. “Anyway, I called to tell you that I’ll be coming home tonight and I’m sleeping there.”

“Wow, it’s been a while. How long will you stay here?” You asked, hiding your excitement.

“I’m taking 7 days off. Starting tomorrow.” Arvin said. He gathered his things, got up from his seat and walked out of his office. “I’m leaving The Hamptons as we speak.”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting for you.” You said.

“What’re you up to right now, darling?” He asked, exiting the mansion and went straight to the limo. The door was being held open by Jeeves, the chauffeur. Arvin got inside and Jeeves closed the door before quickly getting in and driving.

“I’m picking a dress for tonight. I made reservations because you’re coming home.” You told him and he smiled.

“That’s sweet of you, darling. I’ll text you when I’m almost home, okay?” Arvin said.

“Oh, ok-”

Arvin hung up the phone and you sighed. You put the phone on top of the small chair before picking another dress.

Hours later, you received a text from Arvin saying that he was already around the corner and that he’ll just wait for you in the limo. You quickly finished getting ready and walked out of your room wearing a steel blue dress that you knew Arvin loved. You wore heels that matched it and wore dangling earrings that you wore on your wedding anniversary.

Celeste was wearing a polka-dotted blouse and a skirt that ran until her knees. She was wearing an old pair of Mary Jane’s and her hair was neatly combed. She had a hairpin to clip it back and on her shoulder, was a ‘nanny bag’ that you gave her. Hayden was wearing black pants and a button up that you bought last year. He was wearing black sneakers to match his outfit.

All three of you left the apartment and quickly made your way to the elevator. The elevator ride was short and before you knew it, you were in the lobby. Seeing the limo from afar, Hayden ran towards it causing Celeste to run after him. You walked quickly knowing that Arvin hated waiting.

Hayden opened the limo’s door and went inside to give his father a hug. “I missed you, daddy!” Hayden said with a smile and kissed his cheek. Arvin hugged back tightly and kissed the top of his head.

Arvin loved Hayden. The boy was like a copy of him and Hayden was Arvin’s most prized possession. He was the reason that Arvin worked hard and he was the reason that Arvin is sane. Although he doesn’t mind having more kids, Hayden was more than enough for him and he was content with that.

“I missed you too, buddy!” Arvin smiled widely and sat Hayden on his lap. Hayden started talking about what happened while he was away and Arvin was listening. Celeste went inside the limo and sat across from Arvin causing him to glance at Celeste up and down with furrowed eyebrows. You quickly got in the limo next to Arvin and closed the door. Jeeves asked if everyone was ready and you said yes. Jeeves started driving and he turned the music down a bit.

This caught your attention and you internally groaned. You looked at Arvin and quietly said, “Really? You’re playing this music again?”

Not leaving his gaze on Celeste, he said, “My limo, my music.”

You rolled your eyes and looked out the window. Arvin’s music played through the speakers and you decided to help yourself with a glass of champagne just to get through the night.

“Are you washed? (Are you washed?) In the blood (In the blood) In the soul cleansing blood of the lamb?”

The music filled the quiet limo, Hayden stopped talking a minute ago, finding the scenery more amusing than his own stories. Arvin nudged you and whispered, “Who the hell is the chick?”

“Hayden’s new nanny.” You whispered. “I hired her yesterday. She’s from the Philippines and-”

“You know what? I’ll interview her during dinner.” Arvin cut you off. “I already interviewed her and she’s qualified.” You hissed.

“Really? Doesn’t seem like it.” Arvin said. “I’ll do the talking. You already got to know her and it’s my turn now. I want the best for my son.”

“She’s very intelligent, you know.”

“I don’t give a shit, Y/N.”

“Daddy said a no-no word.” Hayden said, his eyes not leaving the window. “Also, can I get a puppy? Jason’s daddy bought him a new puppy and I want one too.”

“Tomorrow.” Arvin answered. “I’ll pick you up after school and we’ll buy a puppy.”

“Arvin, babe, he’s not responsible enough for a puppy yet.” You told him, but Arvin shrugged you off. He didn’t care what you thought. If his son wants a puppy, he’s getting a puppy.

You arrived at the restaurant and immediately got out of the car. You went down first and Hayden followed after. Arvin glanced at Celeste and motioned for her to get out first and she did. Arvin was last and he closed the door behind him. “Buy yourself some food, Jeeves.” Arvin said as he handed $200 to Jeeves through the driver’s side. “Pick us up when I text you. Don’t be too far, alright?”

“Yes, sir.” Jeeves said before driving off.

You all waited for Arvin and all four of you entered the fancy restaurant. The hostess led you to your table that had a small card that said: ‘Reserved for Mrs. Russell’ in cursive. All four of you sat down and the hostess provided menus for you, Arvin, and Celeste. A kids’ menu was handed to Hayden and he smiled and thanked the hostess. Holding a menu made Hayden feel like a real man. He wanted to be just like his father and that scared you because Hayden doesn’t know about Arvin’s job. Neither did Celeste and you felt sick to your stomach knowing that you brought two innocent people in danger. If things get worse, you’ll fire Celeste and let her go back to her family while you make sure that traces of her are gone. After all, if they find Celeste, she might get killed. Chances are, her family gets killed too. It’s all connected.

Anyway, all Hayden knew was that his father takes down bad guys. To him, Arvin’s a hero. But you knew better. Hayden will find out when he’s older. One day, he’ll understand that not all people who take down bad guys are heroes.

You all ordered and handed the hostess back the menus. Arvin took a sip of his water and cleared his throat before turning his attention to Celeste. “What’s your name, and where are you from?” Arvin asked.

Celeste stared at him in shock, “A-Are you talking to me, sir?”

“Who else would I be talking to? Of course, I’m talking to you.” He scoffed which made you slap his arm lightly. “Introduce yourself to me. We haven’t met and if my wife thinks you’re qualified for this job, it is also my right to see if you’re qualified as well.”

“U-Um, okay. My name is Celeste Regina Dela Cruz and I’m from the Philippines. My aunt brought me here last year. I only graduated high school and-”

“Alright. How did you find out about this job?” Arvin asked.

“My friend told me about it, so I applied.” Celeste said. A waiter came by and poured champagne on yours and Arvin’s glasses while he poured water on Celeste’s and Hayden’s.

Arvin nodded, “Alright. Were you a nanny before this?”

“No, sir.” Celeste answered.

“So, what makes you qualified for this job? Why are you here?” Arvin questioned.

“I’m here because… I want to work and I think that being a nanny is the only way.” Celeste answered and Arvin nodded before turning to you.

“Have you discussed her salary?” He asked and you shook your head. He nodded and turned to Celeste, “Will $100 a day be enough?”

“Yes, sir.” Celeste nodded furiously.

“Alright, then. $100, it is. I’ll give you extra if you’re good.” He said before taking out his phone and kept himself busy. You gave Celeste a tight lipped smile and did the same.

What Arvin said struck a nerve on you. You knew of his affairs and ladies, that’s why you never visited your mansion in The Hamptons. You knew there’d be a plethora of girls who are throwing themselves at your husband. You also knew that he wasn’t faithful and you knew that because he smelled like women’s perfume and sometimes he’d have a smudge of foundation on his white shirt. You stayed with him anyway.

“Thank you, sir.” Celeste said with a small smile. She turned her attention to Hayden and entertained him with stories from back home.

“How was work?” You asked Arvin and he shrugged.

“Nothing special. Rodriguez finally paid back what he owes, so that’s that. Also, dad visited me this morning. He said that he wanted to see Hayden. I told him I’ll think about it.” Arvin said with no emotion.

Arvin’s relationship with his dad, Willard, was rocky. It was no secret that Arvin preferred the company of his mom rather than his dad. Charlotte, Arvin’s mom, was the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. She helped you with your pregnancy and she’s the one who told Arvin to keep you away from the mob things. She didn’t want Hayden to grow up in such a bloody environment. Besides, it wasn’t safe. She’d occasionally visit you and Hayden when she’s not busy.

“How were things while I was gone?” Arvin asked.

“Same old. The only new thing was hiring Celeste.” You told him and he nodded. He moved closer to you and asked in a low voice, “Does she know?”

You shook your head and he nodded, “Good. It should be kept that way.”

“We’ll be paying for her college education.” You said quietly and Arvin’s head quickly turned to you as he glared daggers at you. You paid him no mind as you took a sip of your champagne. “We’ll talk later.” Arvin said sternly.

The waiter arrived with your orders and all four of you began eating in silence. Celeste was too awkward to start a conversation, Hayden didn’t know what to say, Arvin will talk to you later in his office, and you didn’t want to engage in a conversation nor start it.

After that, you ordered desserts. You initially didn’t plan to order any, but Hayden wanted the strawberry cake that he saw at the other table. Therefore, Arvin ordered four slices of that. As Arvin took bites of it, he chuckled which made you look at him through your peripheral vision.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, before eating the cake that was on your fork and chewing it. Arvin shook his head, “Nothing. I just remembered our wedding cake. It was similar to this.”

You smiled at the thought and nodded, “Yeah, they are similar.”

Your complicated marriage with Arvin made you stressed. You didn’t know how to act around him, but he was a great actor. He acted like he wasn’t cheating on you, he acted like he wanted the domesticated life, he acted like everything about his family was normal, and above all, he acted like he was still in love with you.

The truth is, Arvin isn’t in love with you anymore. But he loved you; he still does. He will never stop loving and caring about you. He just doesn’t get the same feelings as he used to. Before, one look at you gave him butterflies in his stomach and the world turned into slow motion. Now, he looks at you and he feels nothing. In his mind, you’re just his wife and the mother of his child. He didn’t know what to do anymore, but he knew he couldn’t leave you. Leaving you would ruin him because he knew you’d take Hayden away from him.

Being unfaithful wasn’t part of his plan, but it just happened. Then it kept happening with different girls and he hated himself every time. He knew that you knew. After all, he wasn’t discreet about it either. Both of you just pretend that nothing’s happening, it’s all swept under the rug and it’s killing you.

After dessert, Arvin texted Jeeves to pick you up as you called a waiter for your bill. After paying, Jeeves was already outside. Celeste got up from her seat and carried Hayden, who was falling asleep already. You and Arvin followed.

The ride home was shorter and quicker. When you arrived in the apartment, Celeste went straight to Hayden’s room with him fast asleep in her arms. Arvin cleared his throat which caught your attention. You looked at him and he nodded his head towards his office. He went there and you trailed behind him.

When he opened the door, he switched on the lights and went straight to his desk. You entered and closed the door. You sat in front of him and waited for him to talk.

“Since when were we paying for someone else’s education?” Arvin asked.

“Since now.” You answered boldly. He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded, “Why?”

“I’ve seen her records. She’s a valedictorian and she deserves to go to college. Her aunt can’t pay for it and I volunteered. It’s a little ‘thank you’ for taking care of Hayden. Taking care of a child isn’t easy.” You explained.

“That’s her job. Her little ‘thank you’ is her salary.” Arvin said with his thick accent.

“She deserves more than that.” You told him. “We have so much money, anyway. Paying for her college education won’t even cause a dent in our bank account. Besides, you told her that if she’s good, you’ll give her extra cash. Now, what do you mean by that?”

You and Arvin stared at each other in silence. The tension was thick. It was obvious that you both have problems that you refused to bring up.

“Let’s go to bed.” Arvin said after a minute. He stood up and you stood up too. Both of you left his office and he turned the lights off. He went straight to your shared bedroom and you went to Hayden’s bedroom. When you peeked inside, Hayden was already asleep and wearing his pajamas. You took off your shoes and walked to his bed. You laid down next to him and hugged him as tears streamed down your face.

Being Arvin’s wife wasn’t easy and it wasn’t like the fantasy you had initially thought. You wanted a happy family, but Arvin doesn’t even lay with you anymore. Your day was tiring and chaotic with a mix of high and low emotions. You knew that it would repeat the next day and you already dreaded it. For now, you’ll just cuddle your 6-year-old son and try to get some sleep.

The next few days consisted of doing your daily tasks. The only difference is, Arvin was home and he joined in various tasks. He accompanied Celeste in picking up Hayden at school and true to his word, Arvin bought Hayden a puppy.

Now, the puppy is part of your daily tasks too. Hayden named his puppy 'Jack' and he loved it. Part of his new daily life, Hayden always made sure that Jack was nearby whenever he did anything whether it be sudoku or reading his French picture books.

Arvin loved Jack too. He even swore to Jack that he'd come home often. You rolled your eyes at that, but chose not to say anything. While you thought that nothing in your marriage will surprise you, you thought wrong. After his 7 days off, Arvin came home every night solely because of Jack and Hayden.

'Perfect.' You thought. 'At least he's coming home every night.'

It was now Sunday which meant that Hayden had horseback riding lessons at the back of your mansion in The Hamptons. Celeste was watching over Hayden with her cheap sunglasses on. The skirt of her dress was slightly lifting up due to the wind. You offered your hat to her, but she declined. She said that she was used to the sun because of the weather in the Philippines.

You and Arvin were in his office looking over Celeste’s university of choice. You were making calls and Arvin was checking out the university’s website on his laptop. You were currently on hold and you grabbed Celeste’s acceptance letter from Arvin’s desk. The envelope was open and you sat down on Arvin’s desk as you took out the letter from the envelope and read it.

Cornell University

Celeste Regina Dela Cruz 2264 Oak Street Manhattan, New York 10021

Dear Celeste Regina:

Congratulations on your acceptance into the College of Engineering at Cornell University! We are very pleased to be welcoming you to this coming academic year.

Very soon, you will receive your official letter of acceptance from us in the mail. We are excited that you will be joining the Cornell community and know that you will make a very positive contribution to the university.

Best regards,

Amanda K. Bishop Associate Vice Provost for Enrollment Cornell University

ENROLL AND DEPOSIT ONLINE: Please retain the URL and PIN provided in the notification email you received, as well as the password you created to view this letter. You will need all three in order to log in again to complete the Enrollment Response Form and submit your enrollment deposit.

You finished reading and before you knew it, you weren’t on hold anymore. You began talking to the person in charge and Arvin glanced at you from time to time while scrolling through Cornell’s website.

“I think she’ll enjoy Cornell, darling.” Arvin said, exiting Cornell’s site and you glanced at him and gave him a thumbs up before turning your attention to the call again. After an hour, you end the call and turn to Arvin.

“They agreed to let her do online classes and occasionally attend classes physically.” You informed him and he nodded.

“Do you think Hayden will get into Cornell? It’s a nice university.” Arvin asked. “I don’t really care where he gets in. I’ll be proud regardless.”

You gave him a small smile and said, “That’s wonderful. Speaking of Hayden, his horseback riding lessons should be done by now. Let’s go.”

You left Arvin’s office and he quickly followed behind you. “Is there something wrong?” He asked and you shook your head, not saying anything.

Days went on that way. You talked to Arvin less and less and he was starting to catch on to that. He also noticed that you don’t sleep next to him anymore and that you always made sure that you weren’t home when he comes home from the mob business.

-

The party was in full swing and the children were having so much fun. Arvin wasn’t a fan of parties, but he decided that it would be nice to have other children around the apartment. Hayden’s friends and classmates played around and the nannies were all huddled in one corner as they watched the children. Some of them even played with Jack.

You were with the parents and you couldn’t find Arvin. It was time for Hayden to blow the candles and you wanted you and Arvin to be there beside him. You looked for him everywhere and you forgot to check his home office. ‘He’s most likely in there.’ You told yourself.

Without knocking, you walked in and gasped when you saw the sight in front of you. The back of Arvin’s chair was facing you, but you didn’t need the chair to fully face you to know what they’re doing. A young woman, in her early 20s, was sitting on Arvin’s lap and you could see her bouncing up and down. Arvin wasn’t even hiding the fact that he was enjoying it. You quickly left and closed the door.

You knew he was cheating on you, but seeing him in action made it so real. You told yourself that you weren’t going to cry, but the tears you held back were freely streaming down your face. You quickly wiped them away and Celeste saw you.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” She asked. She was worried about you. You faked a smile and nodded, “Yeah, I’m alright. I just can’t believe that Hayden is 7 already! Time flies by so fast.”

Celeste nodded and smiled, “Okay. Hayden wants to blow his cake now.”

“Okay. Tell him to get ready.” You told her and she nodded, quickly leaving you alone. You glanced at the door of Arvin’s office and debated on calling Arvin’s attention or not. You decided that you weren’t going to call for him. If he cared about the little family you made, he would have the decency to not cheat on you on your son’s birthday. With that in mind, you held your head high and walked to the kitchen where everyone was waiting. Hayden was sitting on the bar stool while his cake was placed in front of him, on top of the countertop.

You smiled brightly at him and stood next to him. You kissed his cheek and gave him a side hug. “Where’s daddy?” Hayden asked you, looking up at you with innocent eyes.

“He’s busy cheating on mommy, sweetheart.” You wanted to say so bad, but you held back. It wasn’t nice to bring personal problems to parties. Especially your 7-year-old son’s party.

“He’s answering an important call for work, buddy. He’ll catch up later.” You lied. Hayden frowned, but his mood changed when everyone started singing ‘Happy Birthday’ while some took pictures of you two. Celeste lit the candle that was shaped like the number 7. After the song, Hayden closed his eyes and made a wish before blowing his candle. Everyone clapped and you gave everyone a slice of cake.

When everyone was eating, Arvin finally walked out of his office with the young woman with him. He gave her $100 and whispered, “This is for not telling anyone and for spending time with me.” He winked at her and she blushed before quickly walking off to the kid she was watching.

Unbeknownst to them, Celeste saw the whole thing. She looked at you, Hayden, and Arvin and she looked torn. She wanted to tell you, but she was scared of Arvin. She thought that he was sketchy and she didn’t fully trust him. If she doesn't tell you, she’ll feel bad. So she quickly went to her room, called her sister and sat on her bed.

Toni, her sister, answered, “Oh, bakit ka napatawag? (Why did you call?)”

“May chika ako! Tangina, ‘di ko alam kung ano gagawin ko. (I have tea! Fuck, I don’t know what to do.)” Celeste said. She was panicking in her room and she truly didn’t know what to do.

“Ano ‘yon? (What is it?)” Toni asked.

“‘Di ako sigurado pero parang nambababae itong tatay ng alaga ko. Sabihin ko kaya sa asawa niya? (I’m not sure, but I think the dad of the kid I’m taking care of is cheating on his wife. What if I tell his wife?)” Celeste bit her nails nervously. Toni was quiet and said, “Ikaw bahala. Kung sa tingin mong kakainin ka ng konsensya mo, sabihin mo na. Kung kaya mong magkunwari na wala kang alam, edi ‘wag mo sabihin. (It’s up to you. If you think that your conscience will eat you alive, tell her. If you can pretend that you don’t know anything, then don’t say anything.)”

“Kung ikaw nasa pwesto ko, ano gagawin mo? (If you were in my place, what would you do?)”

“Wala. Kunwari wala akong alam. Saka ko na lang sasabihin pag tinanong ako. (Nothing. I’ll pretend that I don’t know anything. I’ll just tell her if she asks me.)” Toni answered.

“Sige. Chat nalang kita mamaya. Kailangan na ako sa labas. (Okay. I’ll chat with you later. I think they need me outside.)”

“Okay, bye!” Toni said before hanging up. Celeste took a deep breath and walked out of her room.

Some people were already leaving and Celeste immediately grabbed a big garbage bag to pick up the paper plates and paper cups that were left behind.

“Where have you been?” You asked Celeste sweetly. She jumped at the sound of your voice which was weird because she wasn’t jumpy.

“I-I went to my room to talk to my sister.” Celeste said. It was true, but she didn’t tell you why. You nodded and said, “Send her my regards.”

Celeste nodded and proceeded to clean up. You walked away and thanked your guests for coming to Hayden’s party. You’ve been avoiding Arvin for hours now and it was like he wanted to talk to you alone. You didn’t want to.

When everything was clean, it was already time for Hayden’s nighttime yoga routine. He quickly went to his room and started getting dressed in his yoga outfit. Celeste went to her room to grab her books, so that she could read while Hayden did his yoga. Jack went with them and Celeste was more than happy to know that the dog was joining them.

It was only you and Arvin in the living room. The tension was thick. You closed the door after the last guest left and Arvin started talking, “Why didn’t you call me when Hayden blew out his candle?”

“Was I supposed to?” You snapped and gave him a death glare which he seemed to return.

“Of course you were supposed to! I’m his dad and I should be there for him!”

“Why weren’t you present for most of the day, then? Where were you when I needed you? Where were you when I needed help with Hayden’s gifts? When I needed someone to give drinks to the adults, where were you? You weren’t around, Arvin. You were busy with God knows what!” You raised your voice.

“What are you saying?!” Arvin shouted.

“I’m saying that you’re not there for me and you haven’t been for a long fucking time!” You shouted back. This started a screaming match between the two of you. You didn’t even notice how loud you were shouting.

Hayden stopped doing yoga and looked at Celeste, “What’s going on?” Celeste looked at Hayden while listening closely. She sighed and told him, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Celeste walked out of Hayden’s room not knowing that Hayden followed her out. She only realized that Hayden followed her when she heard Hayden shout, “Stop fighting!”

You and Arvin stopped to turn your heads to Hayden who was already crying at the sight of his angry parents. The sight of Hayden crying made you cry too. You walked towards him, but he ran away to hide in his room. He locked the door and Celeste was just standing there awkwardly.

You wiped away your tears and to your surprise, Celeste spoke up. “Ma’am, sir, um, please don’t fight anymore because Hayden will not like it. If you can’t stop fighting each other, do it for Hayden.” Celeste said softly as she looked at both of you.

“Hayden is a very nice kid and he’s very smart and he’s very obedient. He does everything you tell him to do even if he doesn’t like it because he knows that it will make you happy. He doesn’t deserve to have parents that are fighting all the time and he doesn’t deserve a family that has problems. If you have problems, just talk about it. Don’t yell.” Celeste told both of you. She was trying to be a peacemaker and both of you commended her for it. It wasn’t her job to be a peacemaker, but she’s being one right now.

“Sir, I saw you a while ago at the party with a girl and you gave her money. Being unfaithful is not nice. You should be faithful to your wife because she’s doing her best. If you don’t love her anymore, why are you here?” Celeste said. You knew she didn’t mean anything wrong, but Arvin took it the wrong way.

“Excuse me?” Arvin asked, offended. “I’m offended that you had to ask me why I’m here. I’m here because I live here. It’s my money, it’s my apartment, and everything here is from me! So don’t ask me why I’m-”

“She’s right, Arvin.” You said and turned to look at him. “I’m tired of all this fighting and all this pretending. From now on, I’ll sleep in Hayden’s room. If you enjoy sleeping with different women, you’re surely going to enjoy sleeping alone.” You snapped before leaving the living room to go to the bathroom to wash up.

Arvin glared at Celeste angrily and she said, “Sir, I understand if you fire me. It’s fine. I’m sorry for disrespecting you in your house. But before you fire me, think about what I said, sir. Also, think about your son. You can’t take care of him because of your job and your wife can’t take care of him because she’s busy with different things. If you fire me, no one else will look out for Hayden. Thank you for listening, sir.”

Celeste looked down and went to Hayden’s room in hopes that she could coax him into unlocking the door and letting her in.

Arvin sighed in distress and rubbed his face with his hands before going to the master’s bedroom and slamming the door.

-

Arvin didn’t know what happened. All he remembered was going to an event that was attended by his mob allies when all of a sudden, his rival mob attacked them all. A lot of shooting happened and he was sure that his mob friends were killed. He hoped they weren’t.

People were screaming and he heard someone crying at some point. His people were scattered everywhere and he didn’t know if they were alright. He didn’t get out scott-free, though. He got shot on his side and he was shooting his rivals all while trying to get out of the venue to get in the car and go back to his mansion.

When he arrived, Amelia was already on her feet and doing her tasks. She was the only doctor, but she pushed through and it amazed Arvin how Amelia could help them. He admired her and thought that she was strong. Her job isn’t easy, after all.

A few hours of taking out bullets from bodies and declaring one person dead on arrival, Amelia was finally finished with her job. She was in Arvin’s office to get her paycheck while Arvin wrote her salary on a check.

“$20,000” Arvin wrote before handing it to her with a tight-lipped smile. Amelia took the check gratefully.

“Thank you, Mr. Russell.” Amelia smiled before grabbing her bag and leaving. Arvin sighed and leaned back on his chair. He hasn’t been home for a while and Hayden didn’t want to speak with him whenever he called you to talk to Hayden. It broke his heart.

He put a hand on his gun wound and closed his eyes to rest for a while to think about his life. He never really thought that his life would turn out like this, but he knew that someday he’d have to take over the mob. When he took over, that’s when he met you.

In truth, he didn’t know how or what to feel when it comes to you. He’s confused. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing which made him groan. He opened his eyes, grabbed his phone, and answered it without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Hello, Russell.” His rival, George, said. Arvin could almost imagine the smug look on George’s face. Arvin gripped his phone tighter, “What do you want? You killed one of my men. Isn’t that enough?”

“Quite frankly, no. I would send my condolences to the deceased family, but I don’t really give a shit. Besides, it would teach you a lesson from stealing from me!”

“For the last time, I didn’t steal from you!” Arvin shouted.

“Your men joined my mob and stole from me!”

“It’s not stealing if they’re getting what’s rightfully ours.” Arvin hissed. “If anything, you stole from me!”

George scoffed, “If you really think that way, fine. Just know that you’ll pay for it.”

“I’m not paying for anything, George.” Arvin chuckled bitterly before pouring himself some scotch with one hand.

“Not even for your family?” George asked. “Wow, that shit’s cold.”

“What’re you talking about?” Arvin asked with furrowed eyebrows as he took a sip of his drink.

“Oh, you’re not informed?” George said sarcastically. “Your wife and son are here with me. If you don’t give me back what you stole from me, I’ll kill them. You know where to find me, Russell.”

George hung up and Arvin yelled in frustration. He sat up and winced because of his wound. He ran a hand through his hair and thought about how he’ll save you and Hayden. Him and his men talked about plans and when they were able to finalize, they wasted no time in going to George’s place.

The plan was going to George and giving him a duffel bag filled with rocks, so that he’ll think it’s the thing he was looking for; the thing he claimed Arvin’s men stole. Arvin decided that it’d be best for his men to ‘give it back’ to George while he and a few guys would look for you and Hayden.

Arvin heard George shouting about everything being fake and he heard gunshots. In a span of a few hours, his mob was shooting people again. He heard Hayden’s familiar cries and followed it while being covered by Javier, one of his men.

When Arvin found the room where George kept you and Hayden, he gasped when he saw you lying in your own blood, unconscious next to a weeping Hayden.

“Daddy!” Hayden cried and it made Arvin’s heart break. He had so many questions running through his mind. How long have you been unconscious? Why are you unconscious? Did they hurt both of you? Where’s Celeste?

Arvin quickly untied Hayden and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him. “It’s okay, buddy. Everything’ll be okay.” Arvin whispered and kissed the top of Hayden’s head. He lets go of Hayden and knelt beside your body. He untied you and panicked when he saw multiple gun wounds on you. He knew that if you stayed longer, you’d die.

Arvin turned to Hayden and said, “Listen to me, okay? Take care of mommy and don’t go anywhere. Got it?”

Hayden nodded and wiped his tears. “Are you coming back?”

“Of course, I’m coming back.” Arvin reassured him. He stood up and quickly left the room and shot every person from his rival mob. When he saw George, all Arvin saw was red and started beating the shit out of his rival.

George didn’t get a chance to defend himself because Arvin just kept throwing punches and hits. Arvin wanted George dead for bringing his family into their problems. Arvin didn’t care about George’s bloody and bruised state. Arvin pushed George to the ground and whipped out his gun.

“This is for my family.” Arvin panted. He looked at George in the eye and shot his head mercilessly. He looked at his surroundings and saw that almost everyone in George’s mob was dead and the few that were alive, are either unconscious or terribly bruised.

Arvin ran back to the room and picked up Hayden. “I told you I’d be back.” He said as Hayden rested his head on the crook of Arvin’s neck.

Arvin ordered one of his men to carry you and immediately drove to the mansion. Arvin called Amelia and said that he needed her ASAP.

“Mr. Russell, it’s late and it’s not my schedule.” Amelia said groggily. She was already deeply sleeping and Arvin disturbed her greatly.

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. I need you ASAP, Amelia. It’s my wife this time.” Arvin said frantically. They arrived at the mansion and rushed you to the medical room where Amelia was hours before.

Hayden was asleep in Arvin’s arms and he went to his room to let Hayden sleep there comfortably. He hears shuffling around on Amelia’s end as he did his best to tuck Hayden in.

“I’m on my way.” Amelia said.

“Okay, please hurry.” Arvin pleaded before hanging up. He looked at Hayden and smiled a bit at the sight of his son fast asleep. He quietly left the room and rushed to the medical room where you were being kept. He wasn’t a doctor and he didn’t know what to do. Time was running out and for the first time in years, he finally saw you.

He finally realized how important you are in his life. He finally realized that it would hurt him deeply if you were gone. He couldn’t imagine going on with life without you by his side. He didn’t notice Amelia walking in the medical room and he only acknowledged her presence when he was being escorted out of the room by her.

“Wait, no! I want to say, Am-”

“You know you can’t.” Amelia said sternly. “It’s protocol. You can’t be here. Just wait outside.” Amelia pushed the mobster out the room and locked it. The whole time he waited, Arvin was pacing back and forth. He was restless. Who wouldn’t be? If your spouse is undergoing a procedure, you’d want to know about them, right? Arvin had no clue how you were doing.

Three hours later, the door opened and Amelia stepped out of the room. She was clearly tired. Arvin stopped pacing and stared at Amelia who only said, “She’s okay.”

“Thank you.” Arvin sighed in relief as he walked towards the room.

“You don’t need to pay me. Consider it a freebie. I know what it’s like to grow up without a mom at a young age and I don’t want that to happen to Hayden. Take care, sir.” Amelia smiled softly before leaving.

Arvin went into the room and pulled up a chair to sit next to your bed. He held your hand and stared at you. It’s been a long time since he’s seen your face. You were beautiful. You always have been and always will. Seeing you unconscious scared him greatly and it made him realize how much he still loves and cares about you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry this happened to you. I mean it.” Arvin said softly. “I love you. I’m sorry it took me almost losing you to realize that. You don’t know how sorry I am, sweetheart.”

“I can’t imagine the pain you must have felt when Celeste came clean about seeing me and some other girl on Hayden’s birthday. But I know you, Y/N. I know that you’ve always had a feeling that I was unfaithful and I can’t imagine your heartbreak when you found out about it being true.”

“When we first got together, I promised I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I’m sorry for breaking that promise. I’ll be better for you, Y/N. I’ll come home and I’ll stay with you whenever you need me. I’ll be present for Hayden and I don’t want to argue with you anymore. I want us to go back to normal and I know it’ll be hard for you, but I’m willing to try.” Arvin said with hope in his eyes.

“I also know that you’re awake and that you can hear me clearly.” He added as he looked at you. You slowly opened your eyes and looked at him, “I hate that you know me well.”

“I actually love it. It makes me feel like I’m still in touch with you. Lord knows I’d be heartbroken if I can’t read you anymore.” He chuckled lightly before pressing a light kiss on your hand.

“Did you mean what you said? Trying again?” You asked and he nodded. “Then, I’ll try too.”

Being married to a mobster wasn’t easy. Everything has to be kept under wraps whilst having a lavish lifestyle. But when you’re young, you’re naive and you think that everything will work out and you’ll live happily ever after like some Disney fairytale. Everyone seems to forget that Disney princess stories were adapted from the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen.

However, some relationships work out and your marriage turns into something better than before. It happened to you and Arvin. He kept his promises and soon, you were blessed with a second child. Celeste was alright and you treated her like a sister you never had. In return for sending her to college, she did well in her studies and made sure to show you her grades which made you proud.

Everything was coming together and you were thankful that things took a nice turn. Your life as a mobster's wife wasn’t so bad, after all.

* * * *

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @cocoamoonmalfoy @parkerpeter24 @slutforsr @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @quxxnxfhxll @bora-world @supred12 @more-like-reyna

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow @bi-lmg @emmastarz

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell x y/n #arvin russell one shots #arvin russell blurbs #arvin russell fic #arvin russell imagine #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

[r0-boat]

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Champions, mob bosses, anyone with a connection to the underground from all around the world. All now in one place.

For what reason? A call was sent out by the famous info broker, Z. They were supposedly going to be attending a battle contest, and everyone wanted a chance to be able to finally meet this infamous person.

None of them knew if this was true, Z was one for trickery even on a good day after all, however none of them were willing to risk this opportunity if correct.

Soon, numbers and names were being called. It was time to battle. Strenuous and stressful, a select few rose through each battle coming out on top.

In the end though, only one would win and there was still no sign of Z anywhere.

At least, as far as they were aware. Choosing to not appear in their usual underground attire, they decided to attend as themselves. Their public self, anyway. As a simple trainer with their beloved Eevee by their side, after all! No one would suspect someone known for their love of battling.

Even if they never tended to battle themselves.

It amused them deeply, how many showed up just for the chance of glimpsing them. The winner most definitely should be rewarded. Good boys deserve treats, do they not?

Mentally debating the reward with Mew, who was in her eevee transformation at the moment. They settled on a nice handkerchief with some lipstick on it. The specific one had the letter 'Z' embroidered in one of the corners. Proving authenticity.

As the final battle neared, they were more curious than ever. The two competing were equally matched yet had very differing strengths. It was a tossup who would win.

In the end though, it would all be the same.

At the end of the match, a notification would appear in their phone from Z. Informing them to check their pockets. Inside, would be the handkerchief with lipstick stains and the embroidered letter Z in one of the corners.

With no one being any the wiser of who Z truly was.

-Kitsune

There's no way a single one of them would play fairly LMAO Z doesn't expect them with the Only Rule being no recovery non held items.

The two people I expect a cheat with probably be Volo and N but only because N expects everyone else to cheat

#ro.chatting #pokemon champion mob boss au #mob boss mc

[master-sass-blast]

Children of the Gods: Part Three, Chapter Two.

I had to input every single italic you see in this fic by hand because Tumblr doesn’t hold text format when I paste it innnnnn. *pained smile*

Please give this chapter some love, because that was fucking painful to do.

Summary: The aftermath of capturing Allison proves messy -both in dealing with the teen's evident trauma, and in all the skeletons in various closets that get unleashed soon after.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Frank Castle x Karen Page, and Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin.

Rating: M for gun violence, depictions of death and injuries, depictions of emotional trauma, and gratuitous use of the word “fuck.”

Word count: 8.9k.

Set after “Children of the Gods: Part Three, Chapter One.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @leo-writer, @emma-frxst, @sadstone-s

“What the hell were you thinking!”

“Ooh, careful there, Doohan,” Wade snarks, head rolling to indicate he’s rolling his eyes. “Get any more agitated and you’ll be saying all the no-no words.”

Scott scowls at Wade. “Stuff it, Wilson.”

“Every damn night, laser pointer.”

A mixture of grimaces, sighs, and groans go up through the crowd.

You’re all gathered in the medical wing of Xavier’s –the X-Force and nearly all of the X-Men. Allison’s off being examined by Dr. McCoy and Alyssa –to make sure she’s stable enough to be taken out of the handcuffs and the suppression band—and Frank and Karen are sequestered in a separate room until it's clear how everything's going to shake out.

Because, naturally, there’s been a wrench thrown in the situation.

Or maybe the whole damn toolbox, you mentally amend as Wade and Scott resume arguing.

“We cannot harbor a mob criminal here—”

“She’s thirteen, Summers!” Wade snaps. The eyes on his mask narrow into slits. “She’s not a criminal –and her parents’ choice don’t automatically make her guilty!”

“Murder, illegal theft and possession of firearms, assault, stalking, kidnapping,” Scott starts listing, ticking off each of Allison’s misdeeds on his fingers.

“She lost her family,” Nathan interjects, voice going to gravel. “Where the fuck were all of you when she needed support? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

The room goes silent. Many of the X-Men members look away or hang their heads slightly.

“We had no way of knowing that Allison was a mutant,” Ororo speaks up. “Without the proper information, we can’t help. It’s unfortunate, yes, but out of our control all the same.”

“But you know now,” Wade argues. “You knew with Russell. You knew with all the kids at Essex house. You turned your back on him and those kids, just like you’re turning your back on Allison now.” He scoffs, disgusted. “Same shit, different day. You’re all a bunch of cowardly cocksuckers.”

“We do have limits,” Professor Xavier speaks up from his chair. “Russell and the other members of Essex house were considered wards of the state. Legally, that meant Essex house had custody of them until they turned eighteen. We wrote petitions. We did as much as we could to bring attention to the issue. Unfortunately, it got swept under the rug or stonewalled by anti-mutant members of the legal system. As for Allison…” He sighs. “Taking in wards with criminal connections put the school at risk. Not just for fear of retaliation –as would certainly be a risk with Miss Ricci’s connections to the mafia—but also our funding and licensing. As an orphaned mutant, she is certainly deserving of our help—” he pauses to glare sternly at Scott and a few of the more stubborn, self-righteous members present “—but we have to consider the needs of our other residents and students, too.”

“I think we’re overlooking that Allison is here right now,” Jean pipes up. “Whether or not she stays with us is one thing, but we need to decide what to do for at least the next forty-eight hours.”

“She stays here,” you say automatically. “As far as we know, she has no other guardians, potentially even nowhere to go. I don’t think it’s gonna kill us to give her a bed and some food to eat.”

“Absolutely not,” Scott fires back –and, behind him, Angel and Iceman nod. “She’s far too aggressive to possibly put the students at risk.”

“She’s agitated and traumatized,” you reason, “but that doesn’t mean she’s going to lash out at people left and right.”

“Doesn’t she have a guardian of sorts?” Neena pipes up. “Artemis? Has anyone gotten ahold of them?”

“We reached out with the number Miss Ricci gave us,” Xavier explains. “The call picked up, but there wasn’t any verbal response for the duration of the call.”

Well, that bodes well. “What about her attorney?” you ask. “If we can’t keep her here, wouldn’t her attorney be able to arrange some sort of safe place for her to stay.”

“Thus far, we haven’t been able to reach her attorney.”

And that bodes even worse. You fight the urge to sigh or roll your eyes, and instead mentally curse monkey wrenches and whoever thought to invent the damn things.

“For the time being, I’ve contacted some of our external resources” –the glance Xavier shoots at both you and Piotr tells you that it’s your uncle and Alexandra—“to help with matters until the dust settles. They should be arriving soon, so—”

There’s a loud crash from down the hall, the sound of glass shattering, and an angry screech that sounds suspiciously like, “Fuck you, Castle!”

You give into the urge to sigh before booking it towards the sound of chaos and rage. Great. Now it’s an entire toolshed.

***

Subduing Allison this time, at least, is easier for several reasons.

First, she’s still wearing the repression cuff on her wrist. Without her powers –without a way to pop in and out of this existence, specifically—she’s much easier to catch.

Second, she’s tired. It’s not just the bags under her eyes or the sweat glistening at her furrowed brow. She’s stumbling unevenly, panting as she tries to exact her revenge.

Third, Illyana happens to show up at the exact same time with your uncle and Alexandra (and Nikolai as well, though he has less involvement in the “subduing process”).

Alex reacts fastest. She hooks one strong arm around Allison’s waist, then scoops her away from Karen and a hangdog-looking Frank. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Allison, however, doesn’t seem to agree. (Though whether it’s due to general teenage contrariness or trauma-induced rage, the jury’s still out.

…Actually, it’s probably both.)

“You don’t even get it, Castle!” Allison snaps with a manic grin, eyes wide and haunted. “You killed a good man. My dad was getting out! He was going to testify against them—”

Alex clamps a hand over the teen’s mouth, making her cut herself off with a garbled grunt. “I said enough.”

Allison thrashes in the older woman’s iron-clad grasp –to no avail, unsurprisingly. Her face scrunches up, then her jaw starts flexing. There’s a moment where her expression goes slack when Alex doesn’t react, then her nose scrunches up again and her jaw starts working harder.

Alex sighs, then starts carrying Allison back down the hall (she’s astonishingly unfazed by been chomped down on). “Come on. Let’s get you calmed down, malen’kiy.”

At the other end of the hall, Neena pokes her head into the fray. “Someone who calls herself Artemis is at the front door.”

Professor Xavier nods, then says, “Please escort her back to Miss Ricci’s room,” before wheeling after Alex and Artemis.

You look between Neena and the Professor –then, in the interest of going where you’re actually allowed to be (and not being bored out of your mind because you’ll be literally shut out of the room), you head towards the foyer.

…

“Do you think Frank was set up to stop the trial?”

Your uncle shrugs; the two of you have taken up a spot at the back of the room, where you can watch things unfold and gossip like the two old ladies you are in spirit. “It’s possible. It’s also possible that it was retribution for Allison being a mutant. The Ricci syndicate is notoriously… intolerant.”

You grimace. You certainly understand just how far people will go against their own flesh and blood for intolerance’s sake. “Blood and water.”

Your uncle nods, expression equally sour. “You fucking said it, punk.”

There’s not much point in hashing it out any further –both from the standpoint of “forbidden knowledge” and digging up old trauma—so you settle back into watching Artemis go through the mandatory security check.

She’s tall, with broad shoulders. Her hair’s dark, just starting to streak with silver at the temples, and her eyes are deep, intense, borderline black color. Her nose is slightly crooked –comes with the territory in this walk of life—and she’s dressed in black motorcycle wear and combat boots.

She honestly looks so fucking familiar.

You frown, brows pinching together as you try and place her face in your memory. Failing your own abilities at recollection, you lean over and whisper, “Is she one of your team members? I swear I’ve seen her before.”

“Uh –no,” your uncle replies (and it’s too fast and shaky, but you’re too caught up in figuring out whom the fuck you’re looking at to notice). “I mean –everyone has a doppelganger, right?”

“I guess.” You squint at Artemis, as though physically narrowing your eyes will help your brain puzzle things out—

And then Alex strides into the foyer –wiping the hand that Allison bit, and if you look close enough you’re pretty sure you can still see a few bloody teeth marks—and the cloud of confusion lifts from your mind.

“Oh!” you gasp quietly. “That’s why she looks familiar! She looks like Alex.” You look from the Rasputin matriarch, to the other black-leather clad woman, then back again. “She looks… a lot like Alex, actually.” You laugh softly –coincidence is a hell of a thing—then keep rambling when your uncle doesn’t say anything. “Two women who love the color black and carry enough weapons on their person to stock an army. You’d think the universe broke the mold with Alex, huh?”

Your uncle shifts from foot to foot next to you, but says nothing.

“You really weren’t kidding about the whole ‘doppelganger’ thing, huh.” You cock your head to one side, then frown as another epiphany starts growing in your mind. “Actually… she kind of looks like you, too.”

Your uncle makes a quiet, pained choking noise. “Punk—”

“Yeah, she’s got more of your build…”

“Punk.”

“And her lower lip has that weird lopsided curve like yours—”

“Punk—”

You peer closer at Artemis’s face. “Actually, her nose looks like you took yours and Alex’s and mashed them together—”

“Punk.”

You finally look up at him and take in the pale, wide-eyed, tight-lipped expression on his face. “What?” When he doesn’t say anything, you look at Artemis, then Alex, and then back at him—

Oh God.

Oh God.

Holy fucking shit.

You stare up at your uncle, agape. “Wait a second –you and—”

“Okay, shut the fuck up!” he hisses, panicked, before dragging you out of the foyer and into the nearest hallway.

“You and Alex had a baby,” you blurt –albeit in a voice no louder than a harsh whisper. “Artemis is your and her lovechild!”

He winces, then holds up his hands. “I can explain—”

“I don’t think you can!” you hiss. “Why didn’t you tell me that I have a cousin who happens to be my husband’s half fucking sister! Oh God, does Piotr know? Do any of the Rasputins know?”

“I…” He trails off, then cringes. He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not sure, actually.”

You stare up at him, dumbfounded. “You’re not sure. How are you not sure? Nick knows who you are –what, you think Alex just kept a whole child from his knowledge—”

“I mean, he probably knows that there was a baby at one point—”

“The baby is in this fucking house!” you snap in a quiet growl, arms flailing wildly. “She’s a full grown adult who probably pays taxes and has a 401k going! Why wouldn’t Alex tell her husband—”

“Look,” your uncle interjects, cutting you off. “As far as Alex knows… she thinks she’s… dead?”

You gape. Then, as quietly as you can manage (given the circumstances), you exclaim, “What the fuck!”

“Keep your voice down!” your uncle hisses, gesturing wildly in panic. He looks over his shoulder, then when he’s certain no one overheard you, he sighs and looks back to you. “Look, it’s a long story—”

“I’m sure it fucking is!” You cross your arms over your chest when he winces. “How is it that you know your secret lovechild is alive, but Alex doesn’t? What, did she just abandon her?”

“No, no—”

“Didn’t think so. So what the fuck happened?”

He sighs, shoulder slumping, and runs one hand through his already disheveled hair. “Look –long story short, the people who ‘made’ Alex took the baby—”

“Artemis. Her daughter. Your daughter.”

He purses his lips, but concedes with a nod. “They took her away after she was born and told Alex she was dead –and that’s actually what prompted her to get out, but that’s another story for another day—”

“Okay, hang on a second.” You squeeze your eyes shut and hold up one hand. “Alex thinks her baby is dead –probably one of the most traumatic things in her whole life. You’ve known that she’s alive…” You open your eyes again and fix your uncle with a stern stare. “Okay, how long have you known for?”

He grimaces and shifts uncomfortably. “…well, the US took her, but she didn’t present early, so they turned her loose into the foster system because she didn’t have potential as an ‘asset’—”

“How fucking long?”

He ducks his head, carefully avoiding your gaze. “…tracked her down when she was ten.”

Your eyes widen –and then you slug him in the shoulder. “You fucking colossal asshole!”

He panics again, motioning for you to keep it down while checking over his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up!”

“No! Not only have you lied to Alex for decades—”

“She never asked—”

“A lie by omission is still a fucking lie!” you snap in a gravelly whisper. “So, not only did you lie to her, but you also abandoned your daughter to the mercies of the US foster care system!”

“My life wasn’t safe to keep a kid around!” he hisses back at you. “I couldn’t take care of you, and I couldn’t take care of her! If anything, it was safer for her if the government thought I didn’t know she was alive!”

You sigh, pinch the bridge of your nose, and wave dismissively with your other hand. “Okay –fine. That still doesn’t justify the whole lying thing, but whatever. Does Artemis know that you and Alex are her parents?”

“…Yes. She tracked me down when she was in her twenties and I told her the truth.”

“Well, it sounds like determination runs in the family,” you mutter. “But at least you two have kept in touch…” You look up, see your uncle’s grimace, and sigh. “You didn’t keep in touch with her.”

He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Pretty sure ‘not like that’ is a good answer.” You sigh again, then shrug and put your hands on your hips. “Well, you’ve probably solved your own problem. She’ll probably just tell Alex who she is just to spite you, assuming she got the ‘petty vengeance’ gene too.”

Your uncle’s eyebrows spike to his hairline, and his expression goes through the five stages of grief in a matter of seconds. “She –she can’t—”

“She can and she probably will.”

He hunches over, crouching, and grips the back of his head. “Shitfuckshitfuckshitfuckshitfuck—”

“Myshka?”

You and your uncle both jump, then whirl in unison and give your husband your best convincing, “we’re totally not talking about long lost, hidden family members and other poor life choices” smiles that you can each manage.

(Consider that you don’t look like you just shit your pants, you win.)

Piotr’s forehead wrinkles with concern. “What… is everything alright?”

“Just fine, baby,” you assure him, subtly kicking your uncle so he relaxes. “Just talking about what happens next.”

Piotr nods after a moment, likely picking up on that whatever’s going on right now isn’t life or death and that you’ll fill him in later. “I actually came to find you,” he says, gesturing to your uncle. “Professor Xavier still cannot reach Allison’s lawyer. He has asked for your assistance.”

“Right. Absolutely. On it,” your uncle says with a none-too-convincing smile. He shoots your husband a pair of finger guns, then books it out of the hall and towards the medical wing of the mansion.

Piotr stares after him, then shoots you a confused frown. “Is he okay?”

You shrug. “He’s doing about his usual.” You decide to further sidestep the issue by ambling over to him and giving him a gentle hug. “How are you?” Are doing okay?”

Piotr wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. “I am fine now. Just a little sore.”

“Me too.” You nuzzle your cheek against his burly chest. “We really should invest in that hot tub we keep talking about getting. It’d be great for post-mission recovery.”

“Hot tubs are expensive, myshka,” he chuckles.

“Yes, but we’re not getting any younger. It’d be a good investment in taking care of our bodies.” You tilt your head back and grin up at him. “I thought you were all about that life.”

He sighs and shakes his head, feigning exasperation, but his amused smile is a dead giveaway. “Whatever shall I do with you, myshka?”

You grin wider. “You could kiss me.”

Piotr grins back, then dips his head and presses his lips against yours—

Mikhail appears next to you out of thin air. “Ah. Gross. Big meeting is happening. All hands on deck.”

Piotr rolls his eyes when his elder brother teleports away once more, then looks back down at you and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, baby.” You unwind your arms from his massive trunk of a torso, then slide your fingers between his as the two of you walk towards the medical wing.

…

“—I am telling you, Charles, not being able to reach this kid’s lawyer is a bad fucking sign.”

You and Piotr walk into a conference room to find your uncle and Professor Xavier locked in a heated argument.

Wade, Nate, and Neena are leaning against the table to watch, occasionally leaning over to whisper bits of commentary to each other (or, in Wade’s case, speak at normal volume).

In the corner of the room, where a couple of armchairs are positioned, Nikolai sits with his two other children; they’re speaking in hushed Russian, but none of them seem too concerned about everything else going on.

“As I previously stated,” Xavier says, words clipped, “we cannot release Miss Ricci without speaking first to her attorney. The X-Men operate as a special law enforcement service, and failure to comply with criminal and civil statutes will have enormous consequences for the Institute—”

“There’s going to be a bunch of fucking ‘enormous consequences’ for the Institute,” your uncle interrupts, growling through clenched teeth, “if you don’t evacuate this building right fucking now! Fuck’s sake, Charles –you hired me as a security advisor; just listen to me.”

Piotr frowns and curls one hand over your shoulder. “What is happening?”

“What’s happening,” a new, strong, feminine voice interjects from the hall, “is that we’re leaving.” Artemis shoulders past your husband –a feat not easily achieved by many—with Allison in tow, then holds up the teen’s arm that has the repression cuff still attached. She glares at Xavier (and God, she really looks like Alex when she does that), then spits out through gritted, bared teeth, “Get this fucking thing off my kid.”

There’s a longsuffering sigh in the hall, and then Alex steps into the doorway. “She has that cuff on for her own safety –as I already told you—”

Artemis whirls, face contorted by a vicious scowl, and snaps, “I didn’t fucking ask for you input!”

(Boy, if that doesn’t just scream ‘repressed trauma and mommy issues.’)

Your uncle looks like he’s about to pass out again, but Alex seems remarkably nonplussed. She merely raises one eyebrow at Artemis, as if to say ‘that’s all you got?’

There’s no way she knows, you think as you watch the two stare each other down. Not with how much she cares about her kids. There’s no fucking way—

“Actually, we’ve got bigger problems,” your uncle pipes up, voice quavering slightly before he clears his throat. “We can’t reach your kid’s shark.”

“They have other clients,” Artemis retorts, upper lip curling in a derisive sneer. Her dark eyes smolder with barely constrained hatred as she tosses a withering glance in his direction (daddy issues, too, this chick won the whole lottery). “Or maybe they got stuck in traffic.”

Your uncle narrows his eyes at that (and now the two of them look so much alike, overcome by ire as they are). “You cannot possibly be that fucking stupid.”

Artemis sucks a breath through her teeth, eyes widening with rage and hurt. “You fucking dick—”

In the corner of the room, Illyana bolts upright before going stock still. Then, she gasps and reaches out towards her mother. “Mama!”

(The way Artemis’s face mars with a pained grimace makes your heart ache.)

Alex tenses, eyes glowing gold as she starts scanning the horizon (presumably checking for heat signatures). “Gde?”

The room goes quiet –and then you hear it.

The sound of engines rumbling –multiple engines—and car wheels crunching against gravel. Doors thumping open and shut, followed by footsteps. Hushed voices.

You scamper over to the nearest window and float up, just enough to see several men clad in black and Kevlar and carrying rifles stalking towards the front door and around the sides of the house in groups. “Guys with guns. Lots of them.”

“Then get down!” Nate hisses before yanking you back from the window.

“Lights out,” Alex orders before hitting the switch herself. “Get everyone to a reinforced room.”

“There’s a safe room at the end of the hall,” Xavier says before wheeling himself towards the door.

Allison clings to Artemis’s sleeve, much like a baby koala. “What’s going on? What’s going to happen?”

“Go with the Professor,” Artemis says. She quickly –but gently—frees her arm, then clasps the teen’s face with both hands. “Look at me. Listen to the Professor, and stay put until I come get you. Okay?”

Allison’s forehead puckers, and her lower lip starts trembling. “But—”

“Is alright,” Nikolai interjects with a kind, reassuring smile. He gently ushers Allison towards the door, then down the hall before she can protest further.

A few doors down, Karen pokes her head out of the room where she and Frank have holed up. She frowns as she takes in the chaos. “What’s going on?”

“Mafia men with guns!” Wade chirps as he half-skips, half-jogs towards the mansion’s entryway. “Tell your boy to suit up!”

“There’s a safe room at the end of the hall,” Neena adds as she runs after Wade.

Frank squeezes around Karen and kisses her temple before falling in line behind the two assassins.

You step to the side so Karen can run past you, then turn and press a hasty kiss against Piotr’s cheek. “Love you.”

He kisses your cheek in return, equally as brief. “Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu.”

And then the two of you run towards the danger bearing down on your home.

***

In all the firefights you’ve been in, there’s always this moment of silence. A calm before the storm. A moment where everything goes still, while both sides wait for the other to make a move.

You duck behind a wall as the mafia gunmen continue hammering away at the front door, tucking yourself in a shadow. Your stomach tenses, breathing going quick and hard as your mind starts putting a plan together. Don’t want to risk collapsing part of the house by doing a pressure vacuum. Best option is to probably knock them to the ground so the others can jump them.

The door rattles. The wooden portal splits on one side, sending jagged splinters poking out into the air.

You slow your breathing, forcing yourself into a calm, focused state. Wait for them to get past the entryway so you can hit as many of them as possible.

In the back of the house, near the kitchen, you hear glass shatter.

They’re in. You clench your fists at your sides, watching as the front door slowly gives way. Three… two… one…

The door breaks open, swinging inwards as the first gunmen step into the foyer—

And then the door snaps off its hinges and slams into the men, taking them out like bowling pins.

Strike, a small, inane part of your brain giggles.

Shouts go up through the house. You can hear the sounds of rushed footsteps, shattering glass, and what sounds like people being bodyslammed through tables (and, given the type of people fighting for your side, it just might be that). Gunfire pierces the air –and is accompanied by the telltale, metallic plinks of the bullets ricocheting off your husband’s armor.

Angry screams emanate from the front step. Men barge in, firing down the hall, towards some unseen target (likely Alex or Nate, given the door trick).

You wait until as many men are piled into the foyer as possible, then send down a downdraft that blows out the windows on either side of the door.

The gunmen tumble to the floor, swearing in a mixture of English and Italian.

Nate, Wade, and Neena swoop in. They descend upon the mafia men like a pack of wolves, breaking bones, dislocating joints, and cracking skulls as they disarm –and, in some cases “un-alive”—the gunmen.

“It’s raining men!” Wade sings as he runs one of his katanas through the gut of one assailant. “Hallelujah! It’s raining men!” He ramps off a nearby wall, then t-bags another man before stabbing him through the temple. “Amen!”

You crouch, tracking the movement of the scuffle. You tense when you see a couple of the men jump Nathan, then charge towards the railing and dive over when a few more try to break past to run down the hallway. You flip in the air, land in the hallway ahead of them, and unleash a blast of wind right in their faces.

The mafia men fly out through the front door. They sail over half the front drive, then bounce off the gravel surface and roll several times before coming to a stop.

You let out a harsh breath, then dart down the hall towards the kitchen when you hear glass shattering and the sound of Frank bellowing angrily.

The kitchen and rec room are a mess. Glass shards from shattered windows coat the floor, glittering before being crushed underfoot. Doors are cracked from having people slammed into them. The rec room couch is overturned –and is sagging suspiciously on one side, hinting at a cracked frame. The entertainment system is shattered, with smoking bullet holes littering the TV, speakers, and media systems.

Frank has one of the guys pinned down over the sink. He’s snarling as he uses the lip of the sink to choke the guy out. There’s blood smeared his lips and chins, trailing back up to his chin.

Another gunman stalks in through the dining room, gun trained on Frank’s head.

You whip a blast of air at the second man, sending him sailing into the wall so hard the drywall cracks.

He drops to the ground, unconscious.

There’s some terrified shrieking –and then a gunman is punted up and out of the basement stairwell. He sails through the kitchen window headfirst, crumpling in a heap in the hedges outside.

Your husband storms up the staircase, teeth bared in an angry snarl. The waning daylight glints off his metal exterior, almost making him look like some sort of avenging angel. He stops short when he sees you, though; his irate expression vanishes, replaced by concern. “Ty v poryadke?”

You manage a smile and flash him a thumbs up—

And then a truck with a Gatling gun strapped to the roof rolls up to the back door.

“Get down!” Frank hollers before tackling you to the ground behind the kitchen island.

The room explodes into chaos. Bullets plow into the walls, sending up spurts of drywall dust in their wake. Wooden doorframes and floorboards crack, unleashing cascades of splinters in every direction. Glass shatters, raining down upon everything in its reach.

Frank positions himself over you, shielding you as fragmented bullets rain down upon your both. He cups your head with his hands, doing his best to protect you from the hellfire.

Over the din, you can just make out a loud, angry bellow –and then the sound of bullets hitting metal. Heavy, deliberate stomps make the floor shake.

The gunfire cuts off. A shriek pierces the air just before you hear what sounds like a car being tossed into a tree.

(As you’ll discover later, that’s precisely what you heard.)

Frank lifts his head, then carefully rolls off you. He crouches next to you and holds out a hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Your ears are ringing, and you’re pretty sure you’ve got glass shards and splinters in your hair, but you’ve been worse. You take his hand, flinching when you hear the sound of more gunfire outside.

Frank peers over the lip of the island. “Reinforcements. At least five more cars headed our way.”

You suck in a breath. “Piotr—”

“Is holding his own for now,” Frank says.

“I’m gonna help him,” you rasp out. “Make sure everyone in the house that’s not on our side… stays down. And that we’ve still got all our people.”

Frank nods, then runs off towards the foyer.

You catch your breath, then creep towards the back door (better safe than sorry). You flatten yourself against the wall next to the doorway, then peer around the broken frame.

Piotr’s facing off against the new influx of cars. He’s got one hand on the hood of one Range Rover, arm extended out like he’s fending off a five-year-old. With his other hand, he flips another SUV over, causing the thing to land on its roof and putting the vehicle squarely out of commission.

Your stomach sinks when five more Range Rovers tear across the lawn, leaving deep, muddy tracks in their wake –and are followed by three more trucks with Gatling guns attached to the roofs. You sprint out the door, take a flying leap over Piotr, then send out a shockwave of air when you land on the ground.

A few of the cars fly backwards, rolling across the lawn like tumbleweeds. A majority of them, however, manage to stay upright or bump into each other and recover.

Your eyes widen when one of the Gatling gun operators aims directly at you. Shit.

Piotr leaps in front of you, whirling so his back is to the gun. He curls his body over yours, shielding you as gunfire rains down on you both.

You grit your teeth, grunting. You can feel the impact of the gunfire resonating through your husband’s metal body. Worry clutches at your heart when Piotr lets out sharp, ragged groans; he’s largely invulnerable in his armor, not to mention his sense of touch is severely dulled, but you know that with shit like this he’s still feeling some sort of pain –and there’s nothing you can do. You’re both pinned down, and as powerful as your shockwaves are, they’re not enough to stop or even skew the trajectory of a bullet—

Blue light washes over both of you. The sound of the gunfire wanes, replaced by warbling, pinging noises instead.

You peer around Piotr’s side to see Illyana standing between the two of you and the oncoming cars. She has her arms outstretched, palms facing the onslaught of adversaries. A shimmering, sky blue shield with various magical incantations floating through it surrounds all of you, stretching into the sky for at least forty feet.

Illyana grunts. She’s being shoved backwards from the force of impact from the bullets. Her feet are digging into the ground, leaving ruts as she tries to hold her stance. “We need new plan!”

“How about ‘stay alive?’” Piotr shouts back as he digs shrapnel out of the grooves on his arms.

Wade, Neena, Nate, and Frank come barreling out the back door, faces streaked with soot and blood. They dive for the ground, covering the backs of their heads and necks with their hands—

An explosion goes off inside the mansion. The shockwave shatters windows on both the first and second floor, blowing out window frames and trim.

Piotr covers your body with his once more. He cups your head with his hand, shielding you from the falling debris and the worst of the shockwave.

You cough and hack as smoke billows out the broken windows and doors. You do your best to make a vortex to suck the smoke away and send it up into the air. Your lungs burn, and your ears are ringing like a bell from all the gunfire and the explosion—

Four more gunmen emerge from the smoke pouring out the back door.

You snarl, then whip blasts of air at them, slamming them into the exterior walls of the house.

One of them goes down, while the other three are merely stunned.

Mikhail comes barreling out next. He lets out a guttural battle cry, then sucker punches one of the men in the back of the head before aiming a blast of rust colored energy at another’s gut.

The man screams as he sails into the air, arcing over the tree line and disappearing somewhere in the canopies.

The third man aims his gun at Mikhail –then staggers and drops to the ground when a beam of golden energy sears through his chest.

Alex storms out of the smoke with Artemis and your uncle trailing close behind her. She glares down the remaining gunmen and cars, teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Blood is flecked across her face and spattered over her leather jacket. “House is clear!”

“Yeah, except now we’re about to be cleared out!” Wade hollers back. “As in, ‘all sales final, no returns, no exchanges!’”

“If we could make plan,” Illyana screams, voice strained with the effort of holding the shield, “would be very great!”

You look over to Alex –and see her eyes widen. You whirl towards the gunmen just in time to see one of them aim a rocket launcher at all of you. “Oh, for the love of—”

The first hit is technically deflected by Illyana’s shield, insomuch that the projectile and the shield both shatter the moment they meet. The force of the magic breaking sends out a shockwave of blue energy that flies backwards into all of you, knocking those who managed to get up back off their feet and stunning the rest of you.

You groan, head reeling. Your vision clears slowly, casting double images when you move too quickly. Shit.

You can make out Piotr, just next to you. He’s lying face down on the lawn, grunting and moving in slow, clumsy movements. He turns his head, brow furrowing when he sees you, and reaches out towards you.

You extend your hand to grab his –but he’s just out of your reach, no matter how far you strain. Your body feels heavy with fatigue and pain; everything inside you is screaming to get up, to fight, to keep moving because death is knocking right on your door, and you’ll be damned if this is how you go out—

Alex recovers first –no surprise there. She shoves herself to her feet, seething and growling like a feral beast. She hurls a blast of energy at one of the cars –and, from the sounds of the carnage, makes a direct hit. She storms towards the sea of mafia men like an avenging angel, hell bound on vengeance and blood.

Audible gasps go up from the amassed assassins.

You lift your head to see several of the gunmen backing away from the mansion and crossing themselves with shaking hands. You chalk it up to Alex being Alex, and make to drop your head back against the ground once more—

And then you see Allison standing in the ruined doorway.

She’s glaring down the gunmen with a viciousness that doesn’t suit the youthful roundness of her face. Her brows are knit together, and her mouth is twisted into an ugly scowl. Her eyes are glowing a brilliant shade of blue and give off little wisps of azure colored smoke. Her skin and hair are smoking as well, creating an aura around her body. Blood drips down from her nose and onto her shirt –which is stained with ash and soot. There are burn marks and indents on her wrists from where the repression cuff and the handcuffs used to be, respectively, but the restraints themselves are gone.

The ground begins to shake. Two patches of cerulean light appear underneath the grass, growing larger until they form swirling vortexes of magical energy. The ground begins to crumble at the edges of the portals, eroding away and growing wider until they make gaping tunnels that channel so deeply into the earth there’s no telling how far they truly go.

You recoil when the smell of sulfur and smoke blenches forth from the tunnels. Shit, did she hit a gas line? Fucking dammit, like this day can get any worse—

Echoing, blood-chilling howls emanate from the tunnels.

Your eyes widen –and then your heart starts working overtime when you see two, then four massive hellhounds (like the ones Allison summoned at the mall) crawl out of the tunnels.

Shrieks of terror sound from the gunmen. Several take off running, while others try to shoot the beasts.

The hounds snap and snarl at the gunmen, then charge at the group. Two of them go off after the runners, while the other two start lunging after the assassins like they’re rabbits.

You stare at the chaos in disbelief –and then a set of strong hands grab you underneath the arms.

“Get up.” You uncle tugs you to your feet, keeping you steady when you stumble. “You can’t be in the flow of traffic for this.”

Behind you, Allison is panting like she’s run a marathon. The aura of blue smoke is growing around her, trailing into the air and floating over the ground. Veins of light spread across her face and arms, glowing the same shade of vibrant blue as her eyes. Her breathing grows louder and more ragged, until she’s growling and shaking with each exhale— and then she screams.

Much like the first confrontation in the cemetery, all those months ago, the scream unleashes a shockwave of blue energy. This time, though, the shockwave is far from a decoy for escape. It washes over you, the X-Force, your uncle, the other Rasputins, Frank, and Artemis harmlessly enough –then slams into the mafia forces and vehicles like the wall of a hurricane.

Alex charges after the shockwave, carefully trailing behind it. She waits until it clears the first line of gunmen, then slams her fist into the face of the man closest to her. She blocks his attempt to strike her, then twists his arm –dislocating the shoulder, which makes him shriek in pain. Then, she wrenches his rifle away from him. She shoots him once in the center of his forehead, then turns the firearm on his fellow men and keeps firing.

Mikhail and Artemis go after the one surviving Gatling gun. Mikhail teleports onto the truck bed; he sweeps the back of one man’s jacket over his head, effectively blinding him, then kicks the other man present in the balls before shoving him over the side of the truck.

Artemis, on the other hand, stops a few feet away from the truck. She uses her telekinesis to rip the Gatling gun off its mount, then yanks the driver out through the windscreen –headfirst, no less—and dumps him on the lawn.

He doesn’t get back up.

“Come on,” your uncle says, pointing towards the further reaches of the property, where some of the gunmen are still trying to outrun the hellhounds. “Let’s give the dogs a helping hand.”

The two of you reach out, creating a wind current that slices through the air and slams into the stragglers.

The men careen into nearby hedges –and the hellhounds have it from there.

The familiar sonic blast of Nathan’s gun rips through the air. The shot slams into the last remaining SUV, rendering the vehicle to little more than glass shards and mangled metal.

The back lawn and gardens fall silent, save for the sounds of groans of pain and the hellhounds chewing on various gunmen.

Mikhail takes a fall off the back of the truck bed. He flops onto the ruined grass below, limbs splaying like a rag doll’s. “Alright. Is time for nap. Wake me… never.”

Illyana scoffs from where she’s sat next to a smoldering bush. She picks up a nearby stone, then chucks it at her eldest brother’s head (and hits her target, no less). “There is still clean up. Bezdel'nik.”

Mikhail flips her off, then groans as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

“She’s right,” Alex lectures her eldest as she picks her way through the carnage. She nudges one body with the toe of her combat boot, then shoots him through the temple when he groans.

“Mama!” Piotr gapes at her, expression scandalized. He sputters, looking between her and the body at her feet.

“Chto? Vy khotite yego zhivym? Chtoby on mog dolozhit' svoim khozyayevam? Chtoby on mog obrushit' adskiy ogon' na etu shkolu i vsekh, kogo vy lyubite? No –no.” She holds up her index finger and stares sternly at Piotr when he tries to argue. “You do not leave enemies on your six o’clock, medvezhonok. First rule of survival.”

Piotr swallows hard, then says softly, “X-Men do not kill.”

Alex shrugs. “And I am not an X-Man.”

“We’ll handle it,” Nathan says. He holds his hand out for Alex’s rifle, nodding when she hands it to him after a moment’s hesitation.

(Wade and Frank are already working their way through the sea of dead and wounded. Frank’s traversing the chaos methodically, sticking to minimal shots to kill the survivors, while Wade’s alternating between singing “Dancing Queen” and getting post-mortem revenge.

“You shot my dick off inside!” Wade gasps as he peers down at a –slightly chewed on—corpse. “Extra bullets for you!” He then shoots the dead body several times before resuming his pitchy serenade.)

“What now?” Allison asks, staring out at the carnage with a slightly shocked expression.

“‘What now?’” Artemis repeats, laughing incredulously. She stomps towards Allison, pulling a pack of tissues out of her inner jacket pocket. “What the hell are you even doing out here? You were supposed to stay in the safe room—”

“They had cameras in there,” Allison says with a roll of her eyes, as if that justifies her decision to join the fracas. “You guys were getting your asses kicked.”

“We would’ve handled it.”

“Yeah, except you weren’t,” Allison fires back. She scrunches up her face when Artemis starts wiping the blood off her face, but otherwise takes the mothering without any complaint.

“It’s not your responsibility to deal with this shit,” Artemis says, voice and expression softening for a moment. She cleans up Allison’s face –then scowls. “And where the fuck are your cuffs? How did you even get out of them?”

Allison shrugs. “I used my powers to short the repression cuff out and ash it off.”

Illyana’s, Alex’s, and your uncle’s heads all snap around to stare at Allison.

“Are you kidding me?” Artemis hisses through clenched teeth. “You could’ve fucking killed yourself!”

“Or caused magical paradox that ripped hole in space-time continuum,” Illyana snaps.

“Ruptured blood vessels in your brain and caused an aneurysm, made the cuff deliver a lethal electrical shock, turned your magic against your own body and rendered yourself to ash,” your uncle continues, ticking off items on his fingers.

“Well, I didn’t do any of that!” Allison snarls, glaring at the others while Artemis keeps cleaning up her face. “And I made sure you losers won the fight –so fuck off!”

“Get her something to eat and drink,” Alex says. “Her blood sugar is bound to be low after pulling a stunt like that.”

Artemis glares at Alex and opens her mouth to respond—

Across the yard, Wade lets out a pained shriek. “My balls are not fetch toys! Bad Fido! Bad!”

Your eyes widen as you watch one of the hellhounds swing Wade around by his legs. You bite down on your lip, holding in a shock-induced laugh.

“Where’s this mutt’s off-switch –hey, hey! No!” Wade wriggles in the hellhound’s mouth, panicking as another beast bounds towards him. “My spine is not a tug toy! Can someone get rid of Fido and Rufus before they rip me in half!”

Allison snorts –then, before anyone can stop her, holds out her hand and flicks her wrist.

All four hellhounds melt back into the ground, disappearing to the depths of hell from whence they came.

Artemis swears under her breath, then catches the teen when she stumbles. She moves frantically, grabbing more tissues as blood starts pouring out of Allison’s nose once more. “You fucking idiot. Why the fuck did you do that? When are you going to fucking learn that you’re not invincible—”

Allison lets out a sharp, hoarse laugh –then passes out.

…

The wreckage inside the mansion is heartbreaking.

You stare at the ruined furniture, the scorched walls, the splintered doors, the ruined rec room and kitchen, and you have to wonder what was the fucking point?

Part of you understands that the mafia came prepared for war; they were going up against powerful mutants, so –naturally—they would want to be prepared. Having the strongest, most powerful weapons available increased their chances of success. Logically –from a strictly tactical standpoint—it makes sense.

Glass crunches under your shoes. You stare down at a litany of fallen picture frames, heart wrenching as you stare at the ruined pictures of graduates, students, and workers inside. We’re just a school. We work with kids. What was the point of trying to wipe us out?

Piotr ambles up behind you. He puts his arms around your shoulders and kisses the top of your head. “Cleaners and repairmen will be here in less than one hour.”

You feel numb. You place your hand on his arm. “That’s good.”

“We have back ups of pictures,” he murmurs. He kisses your cheek. “Insurance to cover replacing damaged items. We will be fine.”

“I know.” You sigh, leaning back against your husband’s chest. “We’re just a school. What… what was the point? Why try to wipe us out?”

“I do not know.” Piotr kisses your other cheek, hugging you reassuringly. “Perhaps they believed we knew information about ‘family business.’ Or that we were protecting Allison for some reason.”

“She’s just a kid,” you argue, voice breaking as your grief and exhaustion wells up and threatens to overtake you. “She’s only thirteen…”

Piotr says nothing, merely holds you closer.

You sigh—

And then a door slams. Hurried stomps echo down the hall. There’s creaking as a door opens again, followed by more footsteps and exasperated shouts.

Allison storms past you and Piotr, heading towards the kitchen. Her jaw is set, fists clenched at her sides.

You and Piotr look at each other –then follow after her, if only to be sure that nothing else is going to explode today.

She slams her hands down on the island counter –and, on the opposite side, Frank and Karen both flinch and stare at her warily.

Allison glares at Frank, jaw working convulsively. Her shoulders heave with each breath she takes. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, making the bags underneath seem darker and deeper by comparison. She trembles, expression flickering wildly between grief, white hot rage, and the neutral mask she’s trying so desperately to hold. She sucks in a breath that sounds more like a pained sob, then stares Frank down and spits out through gritted teeth, “You leave my people alone, I leave yours alone. Deal?”

Frank sighs. He nods, expression heavy with grief and eyes shining with remorse. “Yeah, kid. You got a deal.”

Allison clenches the edge of the island so hard her hands go white. She lets out a strangled, angry laugh as the tears finally start to fall. She ducks her head briefly, then glares back up at Frank. “I fucking hate you.”

Frank grimaces, but nods and says, “I know kid. It’s okay. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“That ain’t worth shit.”

“I know… believe me, I know.”

Artemis –who’d previously been watching at the kitchen threshold—steps forward and puts her arm around Allison’s shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

Allison clenches her teeth together, but still lets out a choked sob. She presses her lips together, looking around the room to try and regain her composure, to stop the flow of tears. She manages a deep breath, then takes one last look at Frank and snarls, “If I have to see your fucking face again, I’m ripping out your guts,” before storming out of the room.

Frank, to his credit, doesn’t respond (though you suspect he feels too guilty to even consider arguing). He merely hangs his head, expression that of a kicked dog.

Karen leans against him. She interlocks her fingers with his, murmuring in his ear (likely about how it isn’t his fault, and while it looks like that may technically be the case, you’re glad you don’t have to walk the spider’s silk of a line those facts lie upon).

What a shitshow.

Piotr puts an arm around your shoulders and gently leads you out of the kitchen. “Come on, myshka. Let’s go find spot to rest.”

…

Frank and Karen leave shortly after “making the deal” with Allison.

Allison and Artemis hang back for a bit to talk to Xavier. You don’t get all the gorey details but from what you can tell, it’s essentially an offer to help train Allison’s powers so she doesn’t hurt herself rolled in with a warning to keep her nose clean, stay on the straight and narrow, etcetera etcetera.

The sun’s just starting its descent from the sky before the two of them walk out of the meeting room.

Allison is wearing Artemis’s jacket and looks downright haggard.

Artemis has her arm around the teen and is gently guiding her while she talks to Xavier (though, perhaps the term “talk” is too generous, considering most of her responses are nods or terse, one-to-two word replies).

The rest of the Rasputin family, you, Piotr, and your uncle are all gathered in the foyer to make sure Allison and Artemis leave without too much trouble (or causing more trouble themselves).

Your uncle is sweating bullets and looks like he just shit his pants; he’s glancing between Alex and their daughter so fast it’s a miracle he hasn’t given himself a headache yet.

Now or never, you think, watching him with pursed lips. Tell your secrets before they’re told for you.

Alex kneels down next to Allison. “Are you okay?”

Allison’s gaze doesn’t leave the floor. “The fuck do you think?”

She quirks her mouth to the side. “Not all that good.” Alex ducks her head lower, trying to catch Allison’s gaze. “You remember what we talked about?”

Allison’s eyes narrow. She moves her gaze away from Alex. “Go to hell. I know what I know.”

“Sometimes… it’s better to not,” Alex says. She stares at Allison for a moment longer, then pats her shoulder before standing and walking away.

Artemis stares after Alex, expression morphing rapidly between fury and shock. She sputters for a moment before snapping, “What –that’s all you have to fucking say?”

Alex pauses, turning slightly so she can see Artemis. She raises one eyebrow, otherwise looking unbothered. “Is there something else I should be saying?”

“You don’t have anything to say to me?” Artemis presses, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nothing at all?”

“Is there something you want me to say to you?” Alex fires back, smirking slightly.

Artemis stares at Alex for a long, hard moment. She shakes her head, eyes welling up with tears, then turns her glare onto your uncle. “You really didn’t fucking tell her.”

“What?” Alex’s expression sobers, going wary as she looks between your uncle and Artemis. “What didn’t you—”

“This really isn’t the time or place—” Your uncle tries.

And here it goes.

“I’ve gotta do all the work, then,” Artemis snarls with a vicious smile. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense, considering I’m not your favorite,” she tacks on with an angry glare towards you. She storms towards Alex, one hand outstretched, with a cruel, angry smile stretched across her face. “Hey, mom. How’s it going?”

Alex’s eyes widen. She stares at Artemis, eyes tracking over the younger woman’s face. “What…”

“You fucking heard me.”

Illyana, Piotr, and Mikhail look at each other, then at Alex, then at Nikolai. They explode into confused Russian, gesturing between their parents, Artemis, and your uncle—

Realization dawns in Alex’s dark eyes. Her expression trembles, tears welling up in her eyes as she stares at Artemis’s face.

And then she uses her telekinesis to yank your uncle over and decks him.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #frank castle x karen page #alexandra rasputin x nikolai rasputin #love me some soap opera style drama #and frankly so does marvel #and honestly if marvel can have whatever tf infinity war and endgame were i can have this #probably shouldn't have built alex's whole backstory and have it be outside the scope of this series bUT OH WELL #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

[licensed-fan-girl]

Pride and Perception - ch. 3

Hello again, lovely readers! Things are starting to heat up now, I hope you enjoy!

this story can now also be found on my ao3!

Masterlist chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

summary: James Barnes was the mob king of Brooklyn. Everything he wanted, he got, and anyone standing in his way was eliminated, but there was never enough evidence left behind to really convict him. He was not one to be trifled with and everybody knew it. Eveline Stone had only been the boss of Queens for six years, but that was more than enough time to know a bad deal when she saw one. If Barnes thought he could come in and buy her city or take it by force, he had another thing coming. He was the most infuriating man she'd ever met, but he was also probably the only person in New York who could help her find who she was looking for.

pairing: Mob!Bucky x Mob!oc: Eveline Stone (can be read like a reader insert)

chapter warnings: mentions of sex trafficking, domestic abuse, rape, and hostages (nothing actually happens)

word count: 3846

Thanks for reading!!

Nat and Eveline had arranged with Carol Danvers, the owner of the Captain’s Café, to have this meeting take place after her café closed. Carol – known as ‘the captain’ around town – liked Eveline and the support she provided young women but didn’t want to get too involved with the mafia. Her neutrality made her café the perfect place for this meeting. They had arrived right after closing to meet Carol and get the key so they could lock up when they finished.

“You know I like you girls,” Carol had said, “But nothing happens to my shop, understand?” She fixed them with a small glare.

Eveline laughed softly, “of course, Carol, we’d never let anything happen to our favorite coffee shop!”

With a smile, Carol handed them the key, “then be careful, you two” she called before heading out into the night.

Natasha and Eveline now sat waiting for Barnes and Rogers to arrive. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into this” Eveline said, rapping her fingernails on the table-top between them.

“Because you know that it’s a good idea to finally figure out what the hell he wants, and that an alliance with him is the perfect solution to our problem.”

Deep down, Eveline knew she was right but was still skeptical of Bucky’s motives. “I just don’t trust him.”

“which is exactly why we are having this meeting.” Eveline envied her friend’s optimism.

Shortly after 9:15, Bucky and Steve came through the door. Eveline walked over to meet their guests. They took a few moments to silently appraise each other before Eveline turned her eyes to Steve. “Nat, would you like some help cleaning up?” She turned and asked her friend.

“oh, I’d love some,” Natasha responded with a condescending smile, heading for the kitchens in the back.

With a dismissive tone, Eveline asked: “Rogers, would you be a dear and go help Natasha in the kitchen?” And without waiting for an answer, she walked over to a table and sat down, leaving Steve no choice but to agree, and Bucky none but to follow.

Once seated, Bucky looked at her expectantly, almost hesitant to begin speaking.

“Well, let’s hear it” Eveline began, “as long as it’s not as dumb as the last offer you wasted my time with.”

Bucky scoffed, “You mean the solid business deal I proposed to you several weeks ago?”

Eveline could not believe the audacity and arrogance this man possessed. “Solid business deal?” She said incredulously. “Imagine with me for a moment Mr. Barnes, that tomorrow, I walk into your office, and offer to buy your precious Brooklyn from you.” Bucky chuckled softly to himself. “Seems silly doesn’t it? So tell me,” She continued leaning across the table between them, “Why the fuck, would I sell anything to you?”

A moment of silence passed between them where all Bucky could manage to do was stare into her eyes. Eveline decided he was cute when he was flustered – and then mentally scolded herself for thinking such things about her enemy. Well, not quite a true enemy, she reminded herself, that would all depend on the outcome of this meeting, she supposed.

“You know, Nat thinks I should be nice to you,” Eveline said, sinking back into her seat with a shake of her head, “she thinks we could use your help finding and relocating a couple of targets that have found themselves in Brooklyn…” She watched as Bucky’s eyebrows raised slightly before continuing, “But after your performance in the park yesterday… I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be of any use at all.”

At that, Bucky’s eyes widened and Eveline could see a multitude of emotions ranging from shock to amusement flash across them before he schooled his expression back to the classic smirk. “You have targets in Brooklyn?” he asked with a laugh.

“A couple of sex-traffickers,” She said her eyes darkening, “domestic abuse, rape, the whole nine yards… we’ve been after them for months.” Intensity seeped into her voice as she spoke, “we aren’t entirely sure where they are, but,” She paused as a whirlwind of emotions welled up inside her, “we know they’ve taken hostages with them from Queens.” Just thinking of those young girls on their own made her blood boil.

Raising one eyebrow, he responded, “So this is a rescue mission?”

“of sorts”

Sensing the shift in tone, Barnes leaned back and crossed his arms, thinking before his next words. “They’re out of your territory now,” he said calmly, “why do you care?”

This question was one Eveline had not been prepared for. What did he mean, why did she care? Feeling her emotions begin to rise, Eveline took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself before answering, “because no girl should ever have to live like that. These girls are from Queens,” she said, slowly bringing her head up to meet his eyes, “that makes them my responsibility.”

Bucky nodded slowly, his usual arrogance returning, “Well, good luck with that sweetheart, but even if I did tolerate that kind of shit, what makes you think I’d let you do any kind of digging in my city?”

“Oh, sweetheart” Eveline responded with a syrupy tone, “I’ve already started” she finished, her voice turning cold. She enjoyed the way Bucky’s mouth literally fell open at her words before continuing. “How do you think I even know where to look? Your precious Brooklyn isn’t near as clean as you might like to think, and it doesn’t matter if you ‘tolerate’ sex trafficking because it’s happening right under your nose! Hell, it’s happening under your own roof, and you-” She stopped herself, feeling her anger at his willful ignorance beginning to take over. Eveline took a moment to gather her thoughts, allowing a cold calculation to return to her gaze before continuing with the same intensity, “You refuse to do anything about it, but somebody should. I would appreciate it if you’d let that somebody be me.”

※ ※

Bucky recognized the look in Eveline’s eyes as she finished her sentence. Hell, he’d seen it in his own eyes plenty of times before. The feeling of righteous anger was one he knew all too well.

“You’re really passionate about this aren’t you?” He asked softly, allowing his usual cocky façade to fall, extending a laurel branch.

“I could use your help” She responded, avoiding the question.

Realizing he had reached the end of her rope, Bucky stopped pressing. If she didn’t want to tell him, she wouldn’t, but Eveline wasn’t as good at hiding her feelings as she would like to believe.

“what did you have in mind?” he asked.

A look of confusion crossed her face, “hold on,” she said raising one hand in a cautionary gesture, “weren’t you the one who was so desperate for this meeting? What’s in it for you?” He watched her eyes as once again her walls began building back up.

He’d been so caught up in watching her, that he’d momentarily forgotten what he was doing there in the first place. Coming back into the reality of where he was, Bucky took a breath and gathered himself. “Right, well,” he said, clearing his throat, “there is the small matter of your spies somehow finding the location of a great number of my safe houses and private businesses that I’d like to discuss.”

He watched as a slight smirk slowly grew on her face, “oh that” she said with a shrug, “what exactly would you like to discuss?”

“I want them out” he responded with a commanding tone, having returned to the business mindset he inherited from his mother. “Here’s how this is going to work, dol-, Eveline.” He paused catching the glint that reappeared in her eyes. “I will offer to help you in your manhunt, so long as you take your targets back with you to Queens to deal out your punishments and get your team out of Brooklyn. For good.” She sat up a little straighter, becoming every inch the mafia boss, he was learning to expect. “And, if you tell me how you managed to locate and enter some of the most well-hidden locations in New York.”

He watched as she thought about it, her head tilting slightly to the left. “Alright,” she conceded, her acceptance releasing the tension from his shoulders. “I’m willing to work with those terms, if you allow me into your territory with access to your resources – temporarily – in order to most effectively and efficiently locate my targets for elimination.”

Once again, Bucky was taken aback by the directness with which she addressed him in stating her terms. He’d made many deals in his time on top, and very few men had ever spoken to him with such authority and tenacity. Eveline Stone continued to impress him.

He wasn’t thrilled about the notion of allowing her access into his business, though, no matter how limited. “Very Well,” He replied slowly, “I will take your terms under consideration. Allow me a week to consider, and I will get back to you.” She arched a single eyebrow, causing him to roll his eyes, “And I promise not to contact you in any form until I have an answer.”

Eveline nodded her head with a smirk. “Okay,” she said lifting her chin, “Mr. Barnes, it would appear you have yourself a deal.” She extended her hand to him across the table and as he took it in a surprisingly firm handshake, Bucky couldn’t help but wonder what he was getting himself into.

* * *

Back in his office in Brooklyn, Bucky was pacing. He could not believe the conversation he’d had with Eveline stone not three hours ago. He’d had something entirely different in mind when he imagined meeting with her to talk. He hadn’t expected such fierce anger from her, and the strangest part was that it wasn’t entirely directed at him. Bucky paused to look out the window of his office thinking about who exactly it was Eveline was after and why the hell they would have run to Brooklyn. Her accusations against the integrity of his family resonated in the back of his mind. Could there be any truth to them? He didn’t think so, but he also didn’t think she was lying.

Bucky had been pacing and thinking in his office for those three hours when Steve came in to check on him.

“Buck what are you still doing up? It’s almost one in the morning!”

“I know, I know, I just…”

Steve rolled his eyes with a sigh. This was not an unusual occurrence for them.

“you can’t get her out of your mind, I know” Steve paused and looked at his friend for a minute in thought before continuing. “The results of all the background checks won’t come through until the morning at the earliest, so you might as well go on to bed. You obviously need your rest, you look like shit, jerk.”

Bucky chuckled to himself. Steve was one of only three people alive who could get away with talking to him like that. He knew his friend was right, and that staying up wasn’t going to do him any good, but he also knew he wouldn’t be sleeping a wink until those results came in and he could fact check Eveline’s claims. He just couldn’t get his mind to rest until he was certain one way or the other.

“I know punk, and I promise I’ll head to bed soon, but you shouldn’t stay up any later on my account, I know Peggy’s waiting for you.”

At the sound of his wife’s name, Steve’s face softened into a light smile. “Alright, just don’t stay up too late. You’re of no use to anyone if you haven’t slept.” and with that, Bucky was alone again with his thoughts. He knew he was in for a long night. It was part of the reason he had bothered to stay in his office, hoping to at least be able to get some work done while he was up. But his mind was too preoccupied with a particular person to allow him to think clearly about anything else. Get it together, Bucky scolded himself. He was the leader of the largest mafia in New York, he didn’t get distracted by women, no matter how beautiful and passionate they were. Bucky groaned, closing his eyes and pinching his brow as he turned to shut off his computer for the night. He’d just have to wait until the morning.

* * *

When the sun finally rose, Bucky rolled right out of bed and headed into his office. Much to his disappointment, there was no news. The background checks he’d called for last night on a handful of his Brooklyn business partners were taking their sweet time coming together, and Bucky was growing impatient. He could still hear the disgust in Eveline’s voice as she spoke of the sex traffickers that she claimed were rampant not only in his city but among his own men. Background checks were a standard requirement Bucky insisted on for the acceptance of new members, but he had never taken such measures when determining who to partner with; it was bad for business.

Bucky sighed, frustrated with his own impatience as much as with the slowness of the process. Deciding to do something else to pass the time, he sat down to answer some emails and sort through the mountains of paperwork he knew would be waiting for him in his filing cabinet. As he began sifting through various reports from around town, his mind kept drifting back to Eveline. From their very first meeting, he had been unable to keep himself from admiring her tenacity and boldness. It had surprised him to discover the authority Eveline commanded. She knew who she was and what her business was about and was not about to let anyone threaten it. As someone in a similar position, Bucky could understand and respect her ability to hold her own. If he was being honest, she reminded him of both his mother and his sister. Before that slightly unnerving thought could get much further, there was a knock on his office door. When Bucky gave the okay, his third, Tony Stark, walked through the door with a file folder in his hands.

“These are the results of the background checks you requested.” Bucky took the folder with as much composure as he could muster, though he was sure Tony could likely tell how nervous he was.

“Thank you, Tony,” Bucky trailed off, all of his focus having turned to the file in his hands. With a nod of his head, Tony left the office, closing the door softly.

He had waited so intently to have this information, but now that it was in his hands, Bucky was hesitant to open it. What if Eveline was right? What could he do about it? Some of these men were bosses in their own rights and had been loyal business partners for years, he couldn’t simply cut them off, or try to shut them down. Although that’s what Eveline’s done, he thought to himself. If she could do it in Queens… Bucky shook his head, and before he could get any farther ahead of himself, he opened the file and began reading.

※ ※

A grand total of five days had passed since their meeting with no word from Bucky, and Eveline’s concern was growing. When the first two days had gone by with complete radio silence, she began to think that she had been too harsh in her critique of Brooklyn. Her original intention had not been to insult his business methods, but had it come across that way in the moment? What did he think of her, knowing she had a moral weakness? Would he see it as a weakness? What would he have told Steve about her on their way home? Eveline chided herself for having such concerns. It shouldn’t matter what he thought of her, or if she hurt his feelings, her accusations were correct – she just hoped she hadn’t ruined her chances of securing this deal.

In the midst of these frequent self-debates, responses had come in from Pepper and Peggy. About a week ago, Eveline had asked them for any updates on their target’s location along with updated descriptions of the women they had taken hostage. Neither had heard or seen anything of the sort, but Peggy had told her that Steve felt the meeting had gone well and informed her that Bucky had ordered a background check on several of his top business associates. Eveline was only slightly offended that he felt the need to fact-check her, but she hoped that the results would encourage his cooperation.

This train of thought was interrupted as Gomora knocked on the door and poked her head into the office. “Anything?” Eveline asked her assistant – a bit too eagerly if the smirk Gomora gave her was anything to go on.

“He’s on line two.” She said before closing the door once again.

Suddenly a ball of nerves, Eveline picked up the receiver on her desk and pressed number two. “Mr. Barnes,” she began doing her best to sound nonchalant, “Were you satisfied with the results of your background checks, or do you require more convincing?”

She could hear the surprise in the pause before Bucky conceded, “believe me, Miss Stone, I have all the proof I need.”

“Excellent!” she grinned, “so we’re confirming the deal?” Eveline heard him suck in a breath before continuing. “There are a few changes I’d like to make to the original terms, first” he stated. “I’m not sure how you learned of the background checks, but yes I looked into a few of my top business associates to confirm or deny your claims and was surprised and disgusted to find you were correct.” Eveline was surprised to find him admitting it so easily. “Having made such a discovery, I’d like to make some additions to the terms we laid out last week.”

She didn’t quite know what to make of that, but she was willing to hear him out. “Alright, go ahead” she relented hesitantly.

“Your terms were, if I recall, temporary access into Brooklyn and some of its resources in order to locate a few runaway targets, whom you agreed to take out of my city limits to deal with, correct?” He pressed. “Well, I’d like to allow you round-the-clock access to Brooklyn’s resources, though only in a partial capacity, free reign to handle anyone you find however you see fit, and a place to stay for you and whoever else you might need.” Eveline had expected many things when he said he wanted to change terms, but this was not one of them. It made her wary. “Let me get this straight, you want me to move into Brooklyn, increase my access to your resources, and allow me full control of punishment for whoever I decide deserves it?”

“Only temporarily,” he assured her, “I’m not asking you to buy a house, just come stay with me – with us – while you’re working…” he seemed to stumble over his words, “you know, for the sake of effectiveness and efficiency.” It seemed Eveline wasn’t the only one nervous about the outcome of this conversation.

“Why do I need to move to Brooklyn for this to work?” she asked with confusion.

Bucky cleared his throat before continuing, “We’ve agreed that you’ll remove your spies and inform me of their methods, I’d like to ask you to also inform my head of security and consider critiquing their training regimen.”

Now that was a real surprise. Bucky Barnes, King of Brooklyn, wanted her to strengthen his security team? “I still don’t see why I need to move to Brooklyn.” She could see him rolling his eyes as she heard him sigh through the phone “I’d just prefer if the person I’m divulging secrets to was… I don’t know...” “right under your nose?”

Bucky released a breath. “Yeah, something like that.”

Eveline decided even if he had acted like an idiot the first time they met, it was clear now that Bucky knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He knew how to play his cards right, protecting his own just as she would have done. She gained an ounce of respect for the man, and, seeing the reason in his request, yielded to it. “Alright, Mr. Barnes, I concede to the logic behind these changes, but there’s one thing I still don’t understand,” she said turning in her chair to look out the window behind her desk. “You have sweetened my end of the deal considerably and have only asked for a training session in return. What are you really getting out of this exchange?”

Bucky hesitated on the other end of the line. Eveline could tell that whatever he was about to say, he wanted to phrase carefully so as not to reveal all of his cards at once. “We’re mafia, Miss Stone. You and I know what kind of life we signed up for when we took this job.” His voice had taken on a weightier tone than before. “My life has been a series of crimes, many of them repeated offenses, for which I feel no remorse. I do not pretend to be a moral man, Miss Stone, but I am not without a conscience.” He spoke with a sincerity she had never heard him use before. “I will put up with and even encourage a great deal of immoral actions, but I will not tolerate abuse of any kind,” Bucky stated firmly, “especially not against innocent young women.” There was a distant feeling in the silence as he finished speaking as if he was lost in memory or thought. Eveline wondered where he had gone.

Wherever his mind had taken him, it was clear that no matter their differences, the two of them stood together on this issue. “I was greatly disappointed to discover that nine of the fifteen associates I ran checks on participate or support various modes of sexual abuse regularly,” he said, once again addressing her. “At our last meeting, you offered to help me clean up shop. I’d like to take you up on that.” She wondered if he’d run similar checks on any of the men he claimed as family but thought better of asking. This was a tentative alliance, and she didn’t need to test its limits so soon. Eveline smiled softly to herself. This phone call had gone better than she could have hoped. “Well then,” she asserted with a renewed sense of control. “I look forward to our partnership, Mr. Barnes.” “As do I, Miss Stone.”

Their conversation lasted another 20 minutes as they worked out the finer details of their agreement, and when Eveline hung up the phone, she did so with the distinct feeling that they were finally beginning to understand one another.

///

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! It would mean the world to me if you could let me know what you thought, and if you noticed any mistakes, or if I neglected to include a chapter warning you think applies!

Tag list (open):

@marvel-ous-miss-maisie @learisa @simplybombshell@buckysbabyyy @tonystankschild @peacelovehobbitness

#Pride and Perception #mob!bucky #mobster!bucky #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers imagine #Victoria writes

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Conner Kent Week 2021, Day Two: Rarepair

Jason knew jokes about how pale Tim was, about how he was either a vampire or the perfect blue blood, about how he needed to get out and absorb some sun for God’s sake. They were met with glares, scathing retorts, smacks with a bo staff, and on one memorable occasion, a horrified Bruce as Tim barged into the house with visible sunburn all along his arms, shoulder and face. (Bruce hadn’t taken Tim’s accusation of But Jason told me to go get some sun! very well.)

Jason wasn’t joking now. Loosely covered in a hospital gown, Tim’s still body seemed to be more devoid of colour than any of the sheets, machines, and tubes surrounding him and attached to his body, keeping him alive in the most impersonal of ways. 

It was quiet, the sort of quiet that muffled any attempted noise with a soft hush, an invisible reprimand at showing signs of life in a place where there should be none. The beeping of the various machines didn’t register, the hum of the fluorescent lights was ignorable. Even the rhythmic tapping of Jason’s foot on the linoleum, a nervous habit he’d never been able to break, was utterly silent. 

It was quiet. At least until Conner Kent barged into the room, his heavy combat boots thudding on the ground and his breath coming out in pants, the terrified look on his face telling Jason that he thought he hadn’t gotten here fast enough.

“He’s fine,” Jason managed not to cough while speaking, the roughness of his throat a physical ache that was just now flaring up. “Full recovery, they said.”

“Good, good, that’s...” Conner dropped into the remaining hospital chair, right next to Jason. “That’s good.”

Silence blanketed them once again. Jason hadn’t ever been in a regular hospital room. He had supposedly spent a while as a patient in one when he’d risen from the dead and trembled around Gotham like a 21st century zombie, but he couldn’t remember any of it. He didn’t think Tim’s best friend had ever been in one either, given a good majority of Tim’s team was invulnerable or had advanced healing in some way. 

Jason was sure Bruce was itching to take Tim to the cave’s medbay, and honestly, Jason found himself on Bruce’s side in this. As much as he liked to distrust the entire Bat clan, he knew they’d give everything they had to make sure Tim was okay, while the hospital was only giving Tim their best care because of the “Wayne” tacked onto the end of his name. Jason had been about to demand Bruce bring him back to the cave no matter what, but Oracle butted in, telling him that Tim been shot as Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne in broad daylight. Bruce couldn’t take Tim home, not without raising some very complicated questions.

So that led them here. Jason being slammed full-force in the face with how much he’d let himself care about the tiny little toothpick, unable to make himself move for fear that Tim would slip away in the one moment he was gone. (Once he’d come back to life and seen how chummy Dick was with Bruce all of a sudden, he’d always expected Dick to drag him back kicking and screaming. He never thought Tim’s unobtrusive yet steady presence, doing his tech work in exchange for food, would lead to the word brother coming to his lips as easy as a breath.)

Next to him, Conner shuffled, and snapped Jason out of his thoughts. “I thought Nightwing would be here.” A statement, subtly posed as a question.

But, still one Jason had an answer to. “Deep cover. A mission he’d been planning for weeks. He doesn’t know.” And he would probably throw a fit about it too, when he came back. Even Jason had to wince a bit at the horrible sense of déjà vu Dick would end up feeling.

“So they sent you instead,” Conner said, and his tone was simple, but Jason found himself getting heated anyway.

“What, you thought the fill-in for Big Bird would be a little better?”

Jason was just burning for a fight, the helplessness he felt at being able to do nothing but sit in a low-quality plastic chair skating up his body and down his arms, forcing his fingers to curl in a fist. He expected the other boy to rise to the bait, having heard Tim’s complaints on how hot-headed Superboy was. 

But something about their current situation caused Conner to just turn and glare at him flatly instead. “You once put him a hospital bed, too. Don’t act like you care about him now when you would’ve celebrated this a couple years ago.” His tone was dismissive, and that dug under Jason’s skin much more than he expected. 

“Well then, it’s a good thing time travel’s reserved for the speedsters, huh? ‘Cause lucky for you, I’m not the same guy I was a couple years ago,” Jason replied scathingly. The next words were ripped from Jason’s throat, and he could almost see the blood splattered on them. “That’s my brother in the shitty hospital bed right there.”

“Yeah? And how long have you even cared about that ‘brother’ of yours?” There it was. Jason could see red trickling into Conner’s cheeks as he let Jason’s words get to him, and found himself oddly curious about that flush.

Still. Argument to win. “Long enough to know him,” Jason shot back. “Long enough to help piece him together after he almost broke. Where were you during that time? Fucking around with your friends or dead?”

“Trying to hold together the team that Tim helped build,” Conner shifted a bit to face Jason more directly head on. “All you’ve done is tear people apart. News flash: having a sort-of truce with Tim doesn’t automatically mean your family loves you again.”

That one hurt. Years of training to keep his emotions hidden was the only thing that kept him from flinching back visibly, but Jason still felt like he’d been slapped. Because the boy was right; just because Tim liked dropping by one of his safehouses every other week doesn’t mean the rest of the family was anywhere near comfortable with him, not after all the pain he’d caused them. And he couldn’t even fault Conner on it, because it wasn’t like he was wrong and it wasn’t like it wasn’t Jason’s own damn fault.

Still. He couldn’t just let that slide. “At least my family loved me to begin with. What do you have? Megalomaniac scientists who built you from an evil billionaire who thinks of you as an experiment at best and supposedly one of the best men on Earth who still thinks you’re not worth his time.”

Too late, Jason realized his insult came out a little too scathing. Conner’s eyes widened, and Jason saw him blink back pinpricks of tears...fuck. He didn’t know when mutual antagonizing had turned into a caustic competition, but he was pretty sure Tim wouldn’t be very happy with the two of them biting each other’s heads off. And Jason was the one that goaded Conner into this to begin with, to let some of his own helpless anger loose. Conner just wanted to make sure his friend was alright.

So, slightly reluctantly, Jason said, “Sorry. That was a bit too far.”

Conner shot him a grimace. “S’okay. You’re keyed up ‘cause of Tim. I get it. You’re still a jackass, though.” After saying his bit, the other boy turned away, taking up another vigil by Tim’s bedside.

...What the hell. It wasn’t like Jason had lied, anyway. If there was one person that had worse daddy issues than Jason did, it was this poor son of a bitch. Back when he was first catching glimpses of updates on what happened in the larger superhero world while he was letting green overtake his mind, he’d marveled a bit at Superboy, and the way the Justice League seemed to speak about it. How bad do you have to be to be Superman’s own son, (sorta), and still have him hold you at arms length. But after Tim’s stories, and after meeting him now, Jason was pretty sure Superman was in the wrong.

You really couldn’t trust anyone, could you?

“Nah. You’re right,” Jason said. “God knows none of the Bats want anything to do with me, so this stupid sort-of truce with this stupid brother’s all I got.”

Conner glanced over at him, surprised. Jason couldn’t blame him, he was a little taken aback at how easily the confession had spilled out of him too. They both knew how closed off people in their line of work were, but Conner seemed to take Jason’s words as an olive branch.

“You were right too. Found out the fun way that parents aren’t worth shit. So the team’s all I got, and Tim’s a big part of that.”

“The kid fucking hates you,” Jason said, putting some good-natured humor into his words to let Conner know he wasn’t entirely serious. “Loves you to death, but complains about you to me all the time.”

Conner snorted. “Look who’s talking. Every week at Titans Tower, it’s all ‘Jason won’t stop scaring off all my informants’ and ‘Jason spit on my copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.’”

“You can’t blame me for that last one, aight?” 

“No, I agree with you,” Conner said. “That movie was terrible. I don’t know why Tim likes it.”

“Because he’s a goddamn loser,” Jason said. He couldn’t say he was expecting Conner to know who he was, much less from stories Tim had told him. But it felt...good, in a way. Nice to be recognized by his media tastes instead of his bone-chilling reputation. Nice to know that the guy Tim wouldn’t shut up about to him knew who he was.

Silence fell in between them again, but it was comfortable, mutually acknowledged and let rest. Jason didn’t break it when Conner stood up, brushed a kiss to Tim’s hair, and left the hospital much quieter than he came. Jason didn’t break it when he made to leave either, squeezing Tim’s hand and mentally willing him to heal faster. Jason didn’t break it all the way home. 

The next day found Jason in a similar position. The positive side of being a mob boss: he didn’t have much in the way of a day job. He didn’t know why cramming himself into an uncomfortable position to stare, with a tight throat, at a kid in a medically induced coma was what he decided to do with his day.

Maybe because the kid had grown on him, latched onto his heart like a leech and didn’t let go until Jason could ruffle his hair and think of him as a little brother without physically throwing up. 

And maybe because he wanted to see Conner again. He didn’t know why, but their brief talk yesterday had loosened something inside his chest. He was used mulling over his regrets, used to Bruce condemning him and giving up on him as a lost cause, used to Dick trying to brush everything aside and form a bond with him again. He wasn’t used to someone staring his sins in the face, then shrugging and forgiving him. 

Forgiveness was much lighter and much less guilt-ridden than Jason expected, and he wanted more of it. From the way Conner had sunk into the same line of thinking as Jason, he wanted more of it too.

Conner didn’t disappoint him, but Jason wasn’t sure when he’d gotten his hopes up high enough to be disappointed in the first place. Calmer, now that he knew Tim was doing better, Conner leaned against the doorframe of hospital room, staring at their resident comatose with a little frown on his lips.

Jason took the time to study him. A black leather jacket stretched across his shoulders, a little more showy than the practical brown one draped across the back of the chair Jason was sitting on. He supposed it fitted in with Superboy’s theme, because anyone who wore that pinwheel-bright costume with the fucking thigh holster Jason saw pictures of online was more than a little showy. There wasn’t much proof of in his simple t-shirt and jeans, though, and Jason almost would’ve been disappointed if it weren’t for the earring hanging from his left earlobe and the tall black boots with glinting metal lace hooks that stretched up their length. Jason bet he owned the exact pair of fingerless gloves that were wrapped around Conner’s wrists right now.

In all of Tim’s vivid descriptions of the guy, Jason never realized how much he had in common with the guy, at least cosmetically.

“How’s he doing?” Conner asked, and jolted Jason out of his reverie. He didn’t make any indication he caught Jason looking, but Jason eyed him in slight embarrassment just in case.

Realizing that Conner was actually waiting for an answer, Jason cleared his throat and leaned forward a bit from his relaxed sprawl. “They say they’ll bring him out of it tomorrow, then a week here before he can go home. That is, if he doesn’t wake up on his own. The doctors say they’re astounded at how fast he’s recovering.”

Conner snorted, then stepped fully into the room. “Can you build up an immunity to injury? Or, like, have your body develop a mini healing factor or something? Just based on the kind of shit we’ve gone through over the years?”

Jason didn’t miss the way Conner put feather’s touch more emphasis on “we,” or the way his eyes flicked over to Jason. “At this point, I’m sure it’s the only way we’ve stayed alive so long.”

“No you didn’t,” Conner chuckled.

Jason’s head whipped up, staring at the other boy with disbelief threading through his mind. It had taken months for Dick to start making death jokes, and even then, he hesitated a bit, as if making sure Jason was okay with it. But after one meeting, Conner just steamrolled ahead, every bit as confident as he appeared to be. Jason found himself laughing too, with genuine amusement albeit a little punched out.

Crossing the room to seat himself in the remaining plastic chair, Conner sunk down with a sigh. “I just want him to wake up already.”

“Yeah, well. Who doesn’t?” Jason said, feeling unreasonably a little disappointed. Of course Conner wanted to talk about Tim, that was the whole reason he’d come to the hospital in the first place. He’d only known Jason for an hour, and a large part of that was spent trading insults back and forth. Of course he didn’t want to talk about how Jason was doing.

“So,” Conner said, turning away from the hospital bed. “How are you doing?”

Or maybe he did. Jason didn’t know what to call the little bubble of satisfaction that flew up his throat and popped in his mouth. “Not bad. Life as a mob boss is kinda boring, whaddya know. You?”

“Playing den mother for a bunch of hypercompetent yet cluelessly stupid baby superheroes is not how I imagined my life going.”

“Playing den mother?”

Conner wrinkled his nose, in a motion that was in no way cute, honestly kind of gross and flat. Jason found himself staring nonetheless. “Bart used to call me Team Mom back when we founded the team, and it caught on. Now, Cassie leads, but since even she says it, everyone fucking says it. They ask me for granola bars and money to buy movie tickets.”

“And?”

Conner sighed. “I give them granola bars and money to buy movie tickets.”

“There you go,” Jason  said, his voice dripping with smug amusement.

“I swear I’m not usually this lame,” Conner pleaded, and his half-smile was aimed straight towards Jason.

“No, no, I believe you. Tim’s told me stories,” Jason said. “Didn’t you once throw some guy into a police car so hard, the car dented and they had to call in a helicopter so the guy didn’t die on the way to the hospital?”

Conner flushed, and Jason found it just as entrancing as last time. “He tried to touch Cassie,” he explained. “And she can take care of herself more than well, I know. I just got a bit...overprotective.”

Jason just laughed. “Don’t worry. I thought it was badass.”

“Really?” Conner’s lips twisted into a sour smile. “Because the League thought it was proof of my, fuck, what was it? Violent, destructive tendencies mirrored on a smaller scale of the schemes of Lex Luthor. Something along those lines.”

Shaking his head with desideration, Jason scoffed. “Sounds about accurate. Besides, you don’t wanna know what the League thinks of me.”

“What?”

“Aside from, like, Joker and Two-Face and Mad Hatter and shit, Red Hood is one one of Batman’s most powerful and dangerous rogues, and must be stopped at all costs.”

Conner was laughing before Jason even finished talking. “I love that for you,” he said. “You’re just so powerful and dangerous. I’m quaking in my boots.”

Jason shoved him lightly, and felt Conner give way on purpose, ignoring how natural and easy the motion felt. “Whatever you say, Luthor Lite.”

“Well, guess I found my new superhero name,” Conner said, finger held up to his chin in mock-thought as if musing something extremely important.

“It’s perfect,” Jason said. “And here we have Conner Kent, ordinary punk-rock farmer. But he’s hiding a secret! When his ‘violent and destructive tendencies’ come out, he turns into...Luthor Lite!”

The two of them collapsed into muffled laughter, Jason stifling his noise by biting his lip and Conner putting his head in the crook of his arm to hide his red face. Pity, Jason liked that flush.

Straightening up with a sigh, Conner offered Jason a little grin. Crimson was still creeping along his cheekbones and the edge of his jaw, and Jason was suddenly struck by the urge to trace it.

“Kon,” Conner said.

“What?”

“Call me Kon,” Conner said. “Everyone does.”

“Kon, huh? With a K, right?” Jason asked, then nodded thoughtfully when Conner made a noise of affirmation. “Is it Kryptonian or something?”

A rueful expression stole it’s way onto Conner’s face, mischievous lips and daring eyes staring at Jason as if challenging him. “Yeah. Kon-el. Kryptonian for ‘abomination’. It’s what they thought of clones.”

A pause. Then, “Wow.” Jason bust out laughing for the second time. “That’s metal as fuck. Good for you, Kon.”

“Says the guy who took the name of the person who killed him, then twisted it into something so horrifying that now, no one else associates it with anything other than you.”

“Is that judgement I hear?”

“Respect,” Kon said, and his smile was oddly shy, the first time he’d shown that emotion since he’d met Jason. Jason liked the way it looked on him; it suited him oddly well.

They were quiet for a minute, grinning at each other like buffoons, but Jason couldn’t find the heart to stop. Eventually, Kon stood up and rolled out his shoulders to stretch. “I gotta get going. I’m meeting Bart and Cassie, updating them about Tim.”

“They’re waking Tim up in the afternoon,” Jason said. “Bruce is gonna be here, plus Steph. So I’d stay clear.”

“Gotcha, thanks. I’ll come in the morning.”

A proposition, if Jason ever saw one, and there was no way he could have refused. “I’ll be here,” he said, and kept his eyes on Kon until he rounded a corner, away from sight.

Kon was already there when Jason came to visit Tim the next day, and he gave him a friendly, if a tad flirtatious, smile. Jason responded, accidentally putting too much emotion into the greeting than he would have liked, but it made Kon brighten, so Jason didn’t feel too bad. 

Dropping heavily into what had become “his” chair, Jason shrugged off his jacket. He gave himself a mental high-five when he noticed Kon staring at his shoulders, but made no motion to address it.

“If all goes to plan, he’ll be the same annoying little prep boy that’s always annoying the hell out of me by tonight,” Jason said.

“He’ll be fine,” Kon said, and his voice was quiet, but there was an undercurrent of confidence curling around his words. He sounded like he had utter faith in Tim. Jason wished some of that would bleed over.

“He’s a tough little shit,” Jason said, then repeated Kon’s words. “He’ll be fine.”

“How ‘bout you?”

“Hm?” Jason raised an inquiring brow. “Oh, I’m all good It’s not me that’s hurt.”

“Jason,” Kon snorted. “If I have learned anything over the past two days, it is the fact that you are most definitely not ‘all good.’”

“Yeah well,” Jason said. “You’re one to talk.”

Kon made a noncommittal noise, and shrugged as if to say what can you do? “We’ve all got issues. But I get the feeling that you’re not as closed off and angry as you let people believe. Or maybe you are, but you don’t want to.”

Jason bit back the first response that came into his mind, telling Kon that no, he was closed off and angry, just not with him. But that wasn’t the truth, and he definitely didn’t have the courage to say it out loud. So instead, he said, “Maybe. Not gonna lie, from the way Tim and everyone talks about you, I was expecting more...”

“Cocky little frat boy?” Kon asked, smirking.

“More or less.”

Kon sighed, then looked down to where his hands were fiddling with each other. “Superman doesn’t act like a cocky little frat boy. Neither does Lex Luthor.”

“You’re not either of them,” Jason said, realization pouring into his mind like spilled oil. “You’re not either of them, but no one else seems to get that, so you make it as obvious as possible.”

“A couple people got that eventually,” Conner said, looking up at Tim with a soft smile. “Not many, though. And none as quickly as you.”

Kon leaned back, level with Jason now, turned to face him, something on his face that Jason couldn’t read. The chairs seemed much closer than Jason could remember, but he wasn’t very much banking on his memory right now. 

“Yeah, well,” Jason said, feeling a little lame. “What can I say. Misery likes company, and companies read each other through water.”

“Never heard that one before.”

“I came up with it,” Jason said. 

“I like it,” Kon smiled, then leaned forward with an ease Jason had been determined to build up first.

A little peeved at Kon beating him to it, Jason closed the distance first, the kiss probably a little too rough. But given the way they’d met, Jason felt like the bite he gave Kon was justified, even if the other boy was invulnerable.

Jason had made plenty of bad decisions in his life, and he knew exactly what they felt like. This wasn’t one of them. There was no chance that the way Kon’s hands coming up to cup Jason’s face, dragging his nail down Jason’s jaw, was anything other than good. No chance the way Kon’s soft hair suddenly threaded through his fingers was anything other than soft, no chance the soft noise Kon made in the back of his throat was anything other than delightful.

Yeah, Jason knew bad decisions. And despite the avalanche of bad decisions that seemed to make up every inch of Jason, from his scarred hands to his chipped nails, despite the pile-up of thoughtless ideas that led to this boy being made, despite how intimately familiar Jason was with regrets, he was certain Conner Kent wasn’t one of them.

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

this was almost 4k what the fuck

also. please imagine tim waking up to see his best friend and older brother aggressively making out in the plastic hospital chairs next to him. 

anway, suddenly i have a new ship.

imma post this on ao3 later, it got a bit long

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump

#scribbles from the swamp #kon-el week #conner kent week #kon el week #superboy week #kon-el #conner kent #superboy #jason todd #red hood #jaykon #dc #kon-el fic #conner kent fic #superboy fic #kon-el headcanon #conner kent headcanon #superboy headcanon #jason todd fic #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #red hood fic #jaykon headcanon #jaykon fic #dc headcanon #dc fic

[chemicalpink]

대취타 (daechwita) | Emperor!Yoongi x Reader | Part ONE

Pairing: Emperor!Yoongi x Assassin!Reader

Words: 2.7k

Genre: Emperor AU, Historical AU (kinda), very badly written SMUT at the end, power play, angsty

Warnings: there is mention of death, killing, smut in public place, some traditional korean things may be wrong, mentions of slavery.

A/N: No thoughts, just Agust D.

Summary: You used to be an assassin, got caught and works at the palace as a servant up until you are escorted to the main palace, either to meet your inevitable destiny or for a change of plans.

OR

The one where Min Yoongi is an Emperor and is cocky and kinda of an asshole but you both get naughty nevertheless.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

After somewhere near to twelve months being forced to work at the Gyeongbok Palace, you have somewhat become accustomed to having both hands and feet chained while moving around the place with a sword always on the back of your head, ready to chop it off were you to do any funny business. It was no secret that there were hundreds of enslaved servants at Gyeongbok Palace that were once top tier criminals, and whilst most of them received a similar treatment, you used to come and go from your assigned place of work with half a dozen more guards than the rest. Just as you would expect it to be, seen as you were Korea’s most famous mercenary. That day, however, the sight of a hooded man completely dressed in black caught you by surprise. That was definitely new.

Your usual companion, a young royal guard named Jungkook, held your arm forcefully while he guided you through the sumptuous building where most public officials and gwageos of Korea made their home while on service. You both made your way through corridors,  sets of stairs and turned right more times than you deemed necessary just so you’d have the lesser chance of finding an exit out of wherever the man was taking you.

At least, that is what Jungkook pretended by doing so, but you were able o pick up his intentions and noticed how you had been up and down the same stairs in a matter of minutes. You also noticed how the dark-haired man was forcing you to zig-zag through different levels, even though Gyeongbok had the plainest structure inside it, just a few sets of stairs on the front and tons of long corridors inside. Truth be told, you would have been insulted if Jungkook weren’t to be that precautious. 

You both headed down a particularly long corridor where not the slightest sound could be heard except the echo of your own footsteps. Jungkook turned your way and stared, you smiled at him. He looked back to the front and grabbed your arm with more strength than before.

You took the gesture as a compliment, even though you had no idea what was the reason behind such a mystery, or why that hooded man dressed in black had exchanged a few words with the head guard before Jungkook had grabbed your arm and taken you away from your workplace by the river. After a whole day of washing who-knows-who clothes, seeing him planted there beside the other six guards you were assigned wasn’t exactly how you pictured your day to end like.

Nevertheless, you were quick to make out the exact words that were exchanged when Jungkook made himself known to the man guarding the main palace’s entrance, Jung Hoseok, captain of the royal guard. Soon enough, the sky above seemed to have darkened a thousand shades, the mountains that could be seen from the front yard seemed to have enlarged and you could have sworn that the earth had trembled under you. It had been a while since you had left yourself feel fear inside you.

You turned to look at the new hand holding your arm. The black leather from his glove, a perfect match to the rest of his attire.

You both made your way down yet another corridor and you managed to entertain yourself looking at the elegant forged sword that he carried. The gleaming pommel was shaped like an eagle in mid-flight. Realizing that you were looking at the weapon, Hoseok rested his gloved hand on the golden head of the bird. 

You had stopped for a second to consider whether you would be able to take to your advantage the lack of security and just shoot your shot at freedom, go berserk and use the captain’s weapon against himself, just like that old man that used to be in charge of you had chosen the worst day to push you roughly and ended up in a ditch. But there was far too much echo in the corridors to attack him without alerting the whole place .

Sometimes you wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to die the night you were betrayed and captured. However, while walking down endless corridors, there were already far better questions to ask yourself. Had they finally decided to behead you? It was a favourite of the emperor’s after all. Your stomach churned. After all, you were deemed relevant enough to be executed by the very own royal guard captain. But, if they were to kill you, why bother the tour around Gyeongbok’s corridors?

You finally came to a halt before some glass doors in red and gold, so thick that it was useless to try and see what was on the other side. Captain Jung Hoseok bowed lightly with his head to the other two guards that flanked the entry and they hit the ground with their spears in salute.

The captain once again grabbed you by the arm with such force you were sure he had let a bruise. He pulled you towards him, but your feet were unable to move.

“Would you prefer to remain enslaved, then?” he asked in a mocking tone

“Maybe if you’d tell me what is all of this for, I wouldn’t be so opposed to it”

“Don’t worry, it won’t be long until you find out for yourself” 

Your palms were most definitely sweating. Yes, you were about to die. It was finally time to.

The doors opened with a crushing sound and before your eyes appeared a throne room.

“Here” groaned the captain as he pushed you forward with his free hand.

Being freed from the chains that held your feet together, you tripped over yourself and your bare feet slipped on the smooth floor when you tried to pick yourself up. You turned your head back around and saw six more guards that ported the royal seal on their garments make their way inside.

Fourteen guards plus Captain Jung Hoseok.They were part of the royal family's personal guard: ruthless and lightning-fast soldiers, trained from childhood to protect the emperor with their own lives. You barely managed no to choke on your own spit. Groggy and bewildered you turned your gaze to the front. Sitting on an ornate wooden and jade throne, a handsome young man awaited. Your heart stopped when you all bowed to him. You were before the very emperor of Korea, Min Yoongi. 

Both your eyes and the emperor’s crossed paths.

Min Yoongi offered her a smirk. One that hid a twisted intention behind it but reeked of royal charisma at the same time. Sprawled on the throne, his chin was propped up in one hand and his almost white-blond hair gleamed in the dim light. He wore a black hanbok on which the royal seal embroidered in gold tones occupied almost the entire bib.

Something in his eyes, and the way they contrasted with his almost white hair, took you apart. He was painfully handsome and should be less than thirty years old.

Emperors are not supposed to be attractive. They are whiny, stupid and disgusting creatures! But he ... he ... how unfair of him to belong to royalty and be handsome at the same time.

Min Yoongi stared at your tensed body and then raised well-groomed eyebrows “I wasn’t expecting you to be so young” he supported his elbows on his thighs “i’ve heard some fascinating stores about you, How’s life now after being used to all the excess you granted yourself before?”

Cocky son of a bitch.

“I couldn’t be happier” you hummed while digging your broken nails into your palms.

“After almost a year here, it kinda seems like you are somewhat alive, how have you been able to achieve it, when life expectancy around here for slaves is barely that of a month?”

“It’s still a mystery, I have no doubt about it” You gave the emperor a seductive look and repositioned the handles as if they were lace gloves.

The emperor turned to his captain

“Such a naughty mouth she’s got, huh? And she doesn't speak like a member of the mob”

“One would hope so” you exclaimed

“Your highness” snapped Hoseok

“Huh?” 

“You must address him as ‘your highness’”

You gave him a mocking smile and then returned your attention to the emperor.

To your surprise, Min Yoongi laughed.

“You are aware that you are a slave, aren’t you? Haven’t you learnt anything from this time you’ve been serving?” he started walking towards you until he was so close that you could easily appreciate the exquisite embroidery of his hanbok and smell the aroma that he gave off, not perfume, but woody and fresh nonetheless. Yoongi smiled.

“I demand to know-” you started but Hoseok pulled you with brutal force before you could come any nearer to the emperor “I wasn’t trying to kill him, you fool!”

“I would watch my words if I were you,” Hoseok said while burning his eyes on her

“i honestly don’t think you would dare”

“Oh yeah, and why is that?” 

Yoongi strode back to the throne and sat down. His gaze shone more than ever.

You looked from one to the other and made yourself stand taller.

“Because you want something from me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have brought me all the way here. I’m not stupid, you know? It is obvious that you are here in fulfilment some type of secret mission. You are testing me to find out if I am in good physical and mental condition. I know that I am not crazy and that I am still in possession of my physical faculties. So I demand that you tell me why you have brought me here and what it is that you need from me if my destiny is not to be beheaded.”

Both men exchanged a look. Yoongi joined the fingertips of both of his hands. “I have a proposition for you”

 “I’m all ears then” 

The emperor's eyes sparkled with amusement at your insolence, but they lingered for a moment too long on your body.

Min Yoongi crossed one leg over the other.

“Leave us alone” he ordered the guards “Hoseok, stay where you are”

You turned to the emperor “So?”

Yoongi limited himself to once again sprawl on his throne “I need some help with the empire. Someone that help me solve the...more complicated cases”

“So what you need is a servant that does the dirty work for you”

“In short, yes”

“So what happens if I agree?”

“After six years of service you will be granted your freedom”

“Six!”

“Five”

Although the emperor tried to hide it, you noticed that he was tense. He wanted you to accept. He needed you to accept so desperately that he was willing to negotiate. Your eyes sparkled.

“Make it four”

“Fine” he replied “It is a deal then. But if you fail, you will be beheaded” 

“My habilities are perfectly fine. Thank you very much”

Yoongi made a gesture with his hand to Hoseok “Take her to her chamber so she can take a bath” he stared at her “You have your first work in the morning. Do not let me down, Y/N”

Every work after the first seemed almost the same, after some official research, you were sent a brief coded message to your room that contained all the information that was needed for the job, the name of the culprit plus the usual places they used to hang out.

A few seconds worth of work were all piling up to your ultimate freedom.

Even thought you were the sword behind all of those crossed out names in the Emperor’s list, you were quick to find out that Min Yoongi was by far, more entertained and playful about the blood that stained his hands than you ever were.

It was a usual day after work that you found yourself enjoying the occasional luxury of the outdoors bathhouse that Min Yoongi’s personal Harem had to offer, minus the presence of the concubines that usually strolled around the palace, the moon shining on top of your head as the steam from the hot water raised highly from the temperature shock.

“I never took you for one to enjoy the luxuries that the concubine life has to offer, Y/N” you couldn’t exactly say you were surprised to see him standing behind you, the whole place was his after all “Should have made it cleared that this place is exclusively for me and my girls to have fun in”

“Yeah? I don’t see anyone else here though” you continued your bath routine but poked open an eye to tease him, just the way you had become accustomed to do so for the past year or so, left hand covering your boobs as you turned to him “Got stood up, again?” 

“Don’t you just love to play with fire, Y/N” though you had already turned your back to him and were convinced on carrying on with your bath, the sudden apparition of two hands holding your hips in place along with the wet kisses that were being left on your right shoulder made you think twice “I think it is time for you to get burn”

His right hand easily found its way down the water and started playing with your folds, your wetness getting mixed with the hot water you both were in, his mouth never ceasing to scrape every inch of skin he could find, his temperature rising by the second and his rock hard cock against your ass.

Your knees buckled unconsciously as two of his fingers were inserted into you and started pumping rapidly and you could feel him smirk on your back.

Your hand was quick to found his cock and pump it a few times a little too roughly “You know” you murmured as you turned to face him, making his hand drop from inside you as you watched his face contorted in pleasure “I don’t think it is fair of you, your highness” you could feel his thighs tensing as you kept on pumping him “to jump on a girl like that” you got close to his ear, grasping it between your teeth “I thought you said I was gonna get burned, what happened then?”

Something snapped inside him that made him slam you to the side of the pool while taking both your hands inside one of his own, having you bent over, his cock grazing your exposed pussy underwater. From behind you, Yoongi slowly teased you. You both moaned loudly, not caring if any guard that may have been in a nocturnal shift might hear you. 

Yoongi chuckled, knowing him, probably about to make a witty remark but you clenched your walls around him “F-fuck,” He moaned, his eyes squeezed tight, “You feel so good around my cock, so wet.”

There was no use denying that you felt so satisfied as Yoongi’s hips pressed into you, his cock buried deep inside you. Something you were trying so hard to conceal of not having dreamt about it before in the past year or so, pretend not have touched yourself to the thought of the Emperor wrecking you the way he did to his official concubines.

Yoongi’s cock twitched inside you. You felt your orgasm building within you, burning brightly. You threw yourself back, trying to prolong the sensation, rolling your hips.

“I don’t think I’ll last much longer” Yoongi said behind you and you shook your hips teasingly, while turning your head with a coy smile “argh you’re such a bitch” He moaned loudly once again “But two can play that game”

The hand he had rested on your hips to keep his pace was soon to find your clit, pinching it, rolling it and driving you to the edge until it suddenly stopped, followed by the heat that erupted from within you when Yoongi cummed inside you, his hand releasing yours from his hold and slapping your ass as he laughed “Such a good girl but I have an early morning tomorrow” 

“Min Yoongi, you son of a-” 

“Later, Y/N!” he said, grinning widely as he exited the bathhouse. 

#bts imagines #bts smut #yoongi smut #min yoongi imagines #bangtanarmynet #yoongi imagine #yoongi fic #yoongi oneshot #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi drabble #yoongi angst #historical au yoongi #historical au bts #emperor!yoongi #hyunglinenetwork

[sassyduckqueen]

Miraculous: Rise of Anatis 62

Ok I was gonna do Kwami Buster next but decided to go with Gamer 2.0 instead. I'm happy with how it came out but I'll try and write up Kwami Buster as the next chapter :D Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. It took some time to write but it came out nicely :D

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Chapter Sixty-Two: Gamer 2.0

Luka sighed as he leaned on the fencing of Marinette's balcony and glanced over at the city. He had been here on many occasions as Anatis but been here as Luka was surreal. He let out a sigh and glanced over to the Eiffel tower. He was suppose to be having another sleepover with Marinette. She had insisted he stayed over and they had a movie night. They had enjoyed watching their movie and they had fallen asleep on each other. However, it didn't last long for him. He had been wrote up by a nightmare. It had shaken him up and caused him to panic as he looked around. A small amount of relief had flooded into his mind when he saw Marinette curled up asleep next to him. He had moved and placed a blanket around her as she curled up on her Chaise lounge before he had climbed up to the balcony to look out to the city as he didn't want to go back to sleep. Not after that nightmare. He had been having the same one recently but it just seemed to be getting worse after his chat with Master Fu. He was no longer just seeing the event from third person but actually experiencing it in first person. He didn't what had happened in the dream to make it that way but in his dream, he is stood near the Eiffel tower and there are huge waves crashing towards him. Lady Noir is knelt down in front of him, crying and for some reason she looks different but he can't quite see why. All he can see are the waves as he stands there. They are crashing and destroying everything in their path and he wants to run. He wants to pick up Lady Noir and swing away from the deadly water but for some reason, he can't. He can't move. He can't scream or blink or even twitch. He is completely paralysed and then the waves hit, washing over him and Lady Noir. Somehow she survives and she is trying to reach towards him as he sees the waves washing her away and god... he wants to reach for her hand but he can't. He just can't and he doesn't know why. He sees cars floating and buildings been destroyed as the tidal waves hit Paris and Lady Noir tries to her hardest to swim towards him. She even gets close enough to place her hands on his cheek. What freaks him out is he can't feel it. He can't feel her touch, even though she has them on his face. The water calms and remains still as Lady Noir holds his face. She even presses her lips to his yet he still can't feel it and he still doesn't know why she's different but he's glad she hasn't drown. It then dawns on him that he should have. He isn't in his aqua form and there's no way he had a chance to hold his breath so he should have drowned yet he didn't. Somehow he was still alive. He is trapped under the water, unable to move and escape yet somehow alive and able to see everything from his place in the water. He hears a splash and hears an echo like something breaking. Apparently Lady Noir does as well because she looks in the direction it came from and she looks terrified. He watches in sorrow as she pulls away from him and swims away. He wants to swim after her and call out her name but he just can't. He can't scream or swim. He's just stuck in that place as still as a statue and trapped deep under the water. As if that wasn't bad enough, a huge monster then swims by. It looks like some sort of sea serpent and the feelings he gets from it makes him want to scream and run but he can't. He thinks that this creature is why Lady Noir looked so afraid and had swam off. He didn't blame her. It scared him too. Just before he wakes up, he swears he can hear it laugh at him as if it finds it funny that he is trapped. He took a deep breath as he tried to shake that feeling off. It was just a dream. That's what he had been telling himself but he knew it wasn't true. It was too real to be a dream and he knew it felt... bad and strong. And he knew something was wrong with Lady Noir. He couldn't see what it was but she was different in his dream. He knew it but he didn't know how. He covered his mouth as he tried to stop the sob coming from him. When had he started crying? Was it because he thought about the Lady Noir in his dream? Or because he still felt paralysed and unable to stop that flood?

 "Luka?" Marinette's voice made him freeze. He didn't want her to see him crying again. He was meant to be strong and she had seen him crying too much recently. He heard her footprints on the flood and the music in her heart. He felt bad. It was singing a song of worry and fear. "Luka?"

 She stopped in front of him as he tried to wipe his tears away.

 "I'm... alright..." He whispered but the frown on her face said she didn't believe him. She gently took his hand and made him face her, frowning even more as she saw his clearly bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks.

 "Lu, you're crying..." She gasped, moving her hand to his cheek and using her thumb to wipe away his tears. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

 "I'm... I'm just..." He wanted to lie and say he was ok but he wasn't ok. He hadn't been ok since Mob Boss and Miracle Queen hadn't helped. "I'm.. not hurt... not physically..."

 "Then what's wrong?" She asked, worry in her bluebell eyes. It made him feel guilty.

 "I keep on having real bad nightmares..." He replied, making her frown. It wasn't a lie. He was having bad nightmares. If it wasn't his recent one, it was ones of him been controlled by Miracle Queen and murdering Lady Noir or even worst Marinette herself. He had that one a few times where Miracle Queen had forced him to murder Marinette. She always looked so scared in them. Then there was the Mob Boss/Issac dreams. Luckily they didn't involve him murdering his girls but it did involve his family and friends attacking him and tying him to a stake. They screamed at him and called him freak, witch or monster and as if that wasn't bad enough, Mob Boss turned up and then sets his pyre on fire to burn him like the witches of old. He begged and screamed for help but no one helped him. Every time, he wakes from it just as the flames consume him. Marinette's hand on his cheek makes him flinch back to reality. A frown still danced on her lips. "S-Sorry,"

 "Don't be," She whispered before wrapping her arms around him. Instantly, he buried his head in her shoulder and hugged her back as she rubbed his back. "Why don't we go back inside? It's pretty cold out here,"

 He didn't say anything and just nodded, causing her to lead him downstairs. He noticed Tikki giving him a worried look from her hiding place and he made a mental note to let her know that he was ok. He was expecting Marinette to let him to the room he was suppose to be staying in but to his surprise, she pulled him over to her bed and made him lie down next to her. She wrapped her arms around him again, causing him to rest his head on her collarbone and wrap his arms around her waist. Even though he was surprised, he was glad. He didn't want to be alone. He closed his eyes as she began to run her free hand through his hair.

 "Have you told Dr Lang about them?" She asked as he hummed a little.

 "I mentioned them in my last appointment but they've gotten worse since then,"

 "When's your next appointment?" She asked, making him glance up at her. "Am I been too nosy?"

 "No," He replied, smiling a little. "It's this monday coming for the appointment..."

 "Two days away..." She muttered as he closed his eyes again. "Promise me you'll talk to her about it?"

 "I promise," He muttered quiet. For a few moments, they remained in a comfortable silence before Luka sighed. "I'm sorry, Melody..."

 "For what?" She asked, looking at him as he looked up at her. A light blush came across his face as he saw her eyes looking at him with a soft and loving look. He wanted to shake his head and say he was imagining it because he had to be. Marinette was his best friend and didn't love him like the way he loved her but then his mind flashed back to how she had been on the trip to NY and their little dance together in the moonlight. She had been so happy to dance with him and he had been happy too. "Lu?"

 "F-For breaking down on you again..." He muttered tiredly before yawning. "You must think I'm pathetic,"

 "No, I don't," She replied, making him look up at her again. "You've been through a lot recently, Luka and bottling it up isn't natural. I know it's been a few weeks since Mob Boss but something like that doesn't just go away. He hurt you and you're allowed to feel that. And if any akumas come to try and get you... I squash them before they can,"

 "Thanks, Marinette," Luka chuckled a little, making her smile. Marinette returned the smile as she ran her fingers through his hair, causing him to calm down. Slowly, he started to hum a little, causing her to smile a little.

 "Are you feeling a bit better?" She asked, causing him to nod. "That's good. Want to try and sleep?"

 "Can I stay with you?" He asked, blushing a little. Marinette nodded and carefully moved, pulling her blanket over them. Luka curled up next to her again and closed his eyes, trying to not to be afraid off been asleep and making a mental promise to talk to Tikki and to mention his dreams to Dr Lang. Well... at least the Mob Boss ones. He yawned a little as he laid next to Marinette. Her song wasn't as worried as it had been before but it was still playing with a bit of fear. However, he also found it comforting in an odd way. Sure, he didn't want Marinette to be worried or afraid for him but it was nice to know she cared so much. Taking a deep breathe, he relaxed and tried to go back to sleep.

 ~Dr Lang's Office, Monday~

 Mila ran her fingers through her hair as she checked on the news website to see the latest on Anatis. He had still been avoiding her and she had talked to Master Fu about it. Fu had explained that Anatis had talked to him about and had seemed upset about her lack of action. He had advised her to keep in contact with him but leave Anatis alone. When he was ready, he would find her. As much as it annoyed her as she wanted to keep an eye on him, she decided to keep her distance and let him approach her. That way it would be on his terms and it would help him trust her. She closed the tabs as her phone vibrated, letting her know her first patient had come into the office. She looked at it and sent a reply, telling her secretary to let him in. A few minutes later, a knock was heard on the door.

 "Come in," She stated, taking out her notes. The door opened and Luka walked in, making her look up at him. "Feel free to take a seat, Luka,"

 "Thanks," He mumbled, sitting down on the sofa as she stood up and walked over with her notes on him. Luka was one of her more concerning cases. He wasn't psychotic or anything like that but he had anxiety and he had a habit of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. She picked up on that from their first session together but she discovered it was something he did frequently and in a bit of unhealthy way. He was constantly trying to fix and save anyone he could. Be it his sister, his best friend or a random stranger on the street. If Luka saw someone who needed help, he would go and help them. However, he seemed to fixate on saving others to the point where he forgets to check on himself. Talking to him about it, she had realized it stemmed from a need to be far from the men who have influenced his life. In particular, his stepfather Issac. Luka had beat it into his head to be nothing like Issac and then acted in a way he thought would define him from that man. Mila understood why. She had been horrified at what that man had done to Luka when he told her some of it but her job was to help Luka learn how to cope with his anxiety and to help him get in a healthy mindset. "How have you been since our last session?"

 She looked up at him as she asked the question and frowned as she finally looked at him. He looked more tired and afraid then she had seen him. 

 "I... I've been better..." He admitted, making her frown even more.

 "Care to explain?" She asked, tapping her pen. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

 "The nightmares are getting worst..." He replied, frowning. 

 "The ones about Issac?" She asked, making him frown. "It's natural to experience-"

 "It's not just that one," He stated, making her frown. "I've been dreaming a new nightmare. One where I'm drowning..."

 "Well, dreams about drowning usually hint at feelings of been overwhelmed at home, at work or at school," She explained, making him frown. "Maybe there's too much going on at school?"

 "What if it isn't that?" He asked, making her frown.

 "What do you mean?"

 "What if it's real?" He asked, making her blink before he realized what he said and shook his head. "N-Nevermind... it's impossible. No one can see the future.."

 "What makes you think it's the future?"

 "I don't!" He snapped, surprising her before he shook his head. "It just... it feels real... Like really real and it's terrifying.."

 "Well, I would imagine it would be but sometimes dreams feel very real," She explained, making him frown. Of course, she didn't understand. How could she? She was just a normal human. "But if you feel it's more then a psychological thing, why don't you look for advice from someone who might understand it?"

 "I don't know anyone like that," He stated, making her frown. "It doesn't matter anyway. They're just dreams..."

 "As I mentioned earlier, dreams of drowning offer represents that we are feeling overwhelmed and overworked in our waking lives," She stated, making him look at her. "So tell me when was the last time you did something relaxing?"

 "I mediated this morning..." 

 "Ok but when was the last time you did something like a normal teenager?" She asked, making him blink. "When was the last time you went to the movies or played a video game with your friends?"

 "I.. The last time I saw a film was... I think it was when Syren attacked actually? And It's been a couple of months since I played a game," He admitted, frowning. "But I went ice skating on my birthday... but that was before I got... taken... so I guess I can't count it?"

 "Not really," She replied, making him sigh. "Ok I want you to do a normal activity for a teenager this week. Go see a film, get an orange juice with a friend or play a game with one of them,"

 "I have a lot to do though,"

 "You're overworking yourself," She stated, making him frown. "If you want to be the best version of yourself, you need to let yourself have down time,"

 "I..." He went to argue but sighed as he knew she was right. "A-Alright... I'll try... will the nightmares go away if I do?"

 "I don't know," She answered, making him frown. "But it might help you cope with them,"

 ~Later that Day~

 Luka sighed to himself as he took a seat in the art room before opening his bag and taking out his notebook. He technically was free for the rest of the day as he always was after his therapy sessions. The school had arranged for him to have the rest of the day off in order to process. However, Juleka wasn't able to come and meet him today due to an important test so he came back to the school and arranged to meet her in the art room after she had finished her class. He took out his earphones and put them in before listening to Jagged's latest album. It was technically not released yet but Jagged wanted his opinion on it. He tapped his pen to the beat as he listened before slowly zoning out the music as he began to write. He jumped when he felt Tikki poke his leg, making him look around before he checked the time. He frowned as forty-five minutes had passed before he looked at his notepad. He frowned deeply as he looked at it. For some reason, he had repeated wrote only one sentence over and over again in different sizes and handwriting. All it said was 'it's coming' but it creeped him out. He quickly tore the page out and screwed it up as the door opened, making him look up. Marc waved at him before he sat down and began to work on his writing. A few minutes later, Nathaniel came in and waved at Luka too before joining Marc to work on their comic. Luka smiled a little as they began to discuss storylines and drawing styles before the door opened and Max came in. He walked straight over to Marc and Nathaniel, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

 "Hello Nathaniel, Hello Marc," He smiled, making them look up from their work. "Could I interest you in playing a game with me? I made it myself and require assistant to ensure that it works. I've included more than fifty characters based on the formerly akumatized and you can loot from their equipment. What do you guys say want to give it a go?"

 "A fighting game that former akumatized people?" Nathaniel gasped, clearly excited about it before he turned to Marc. "What do you say?"

 "As interesting as it sounds, we still have a number of pages to do and the meeting with the editor is next week," Marc replied, glancing up from his note pad. "Sorry, Max but maybe we can play on a later date,"

 "I understand," Max replied, nodding before he turned to leave before he spotted Luka. He smiled and walked over. "Ah, Luka. Would you care to try out my new game? You can battle as any former akumatized person, loot the equipment and possibly taken on Anatis or Lady Noir as the final oppentant. What do you say?"

 "As cool as that sounds, I'm not much of a gamer," Luka muttered, making Max frown. "And I'm waiting for Juleka and Marinette. We have a custom fitting for some t-shirts for Kitty Section,"

 "Oh, I could ask Marinette!" He grinned, tapping his chin. "Maybe after the fitting, she'll be able to play,"

 "I'm not sure," Luka mumbled, making Max frown. "She's been working on some new commissions for some other people not just Kitty Section,"

 "Hmm, I see," Max replied, nodding as Juleka, Rose and Marinette walked in. "Ah, Marinette, would you-"

 "No!" She gasped, making him blink before she shook her head. "I know what you're about to ask and honestly, it sounds so amazing but I am too busy at the moment to play. I'm sorry. I have to sew a poster for Kitty. I mean I have to make a jagged t-shirt. Urg!"

 "Oh no... it's ok," Max replied, nodding. Marinette looked saddened but nodded as well.

 "Hi, everyone!" Lila's voice suddenly echoed, making almost everyone groan in reply but Max pushed up his glasses.

 "Lila, would you like to play-"

 "Oh, I'm so sorry, Max but Prince Ali promised me an afternoon on his yacht this afternoon," She stated, making him frown. "If I was free, I would totally play it instead of making up a terrible fake excuse. What is a Jagged Kitty shirt anyway?"

 "It's not a fake excuse, Lila," Marinette stated, crossing her arms. "Unlike yours,"

 "Oh, no, I didn't mean to insult you," Lila smirked, making Marinette grit her teeth but Luka stood up and gently placed his hand on her shoulder before looking at Lila coldly.

 "Lila, you need to leave," He pointed out, making her frown.

 "I'm allowed to be wherever I want-"

 "The restraining order said you have to be either in a different class room as me during learning periods or 10 meters away from me inside the school," He pointed out, making her frown before she stepped out. Marinette took a deep breath and turned back to Max.

 "I swear I'm not making-"

 "It's ok, Marinette," He smiled, making her nod. "I know you're not. It's just Lila making trouble as usual and don't worry, I'll find someone to play with me,"

 With that, he waved to them and left. Marinette turned to Luka and gave him a smile.

 "That restraining order against Lila is useful," She mumbled, pushing her hair back. "How did you get it?"

 "Penny helped me," He admitted. "Since we're suing her for sexual harassment and she's proven to not take no for an answer, the judge also granted one against her. I'm surprised she still has her job at Gabriel's but it's not like it's public knowledge. Her family's lawyer is trying to convince us to settle instead and they've been keeping it underwraps. He suggested we lift the restraining order and give me a sum of money,"

 "You said no,"

 "Damn right, I did," He stated, making her smile a little. "I know Lila will attach herself to me like a leech the moment I lift that order and it's about time someone made sure she is punished for her actions. Anyway, let's drop the subject for now. Talking about that leech makes me feel sick,"

 Marinette giggled a little before nodding as Juleka gently knocked her arm against his.

 "Should we get going then?" She asked, getting a nod of Luka and Marinette before they got up and headed out of the art room with Rose, waving to Nathaniel and Marc as they did.

 ~At Marinette's home~

 "These are perfect!" Rose gasped, holding up one of the shirts. Luka smiled as he sat on the chaise longue. Marinette couldn't help but grin as Rose tried it on and Mylene praised her attention to detail. Ivan and Juleka were quiet as usual but the smiles on their faces said more then words ever could. It was peaceful and made Luka feel calmer then he had done for days.

 "Are you sure they're good enough?" Marinette asked, making the band chuckle as they nodded. 

 "They're perfect, Melody," Luka smiled but before anyone could answer they disappeared in a bright light, making him jump up in alarm. The TV turned on making him look over at it as Gamer appeared on it. 

 "What do you do when no one wants to play with you?!" He asked, making Luka frown. "You give them no choice!!"

 "Max?" Luka gasped as he looked at the screen as Tikki flew out his pocket.

 "It looks like he couldn't find anyone to play after all," She stated, frowning as Gamer continued to talk.

 "Anatis, Lady Noir! All of these people were once akumatized then either saved by you or by the other two. Well, if you want another chance at freeing them then you're gonna have to come and play with me," He sang as Luka and Tikki stared at the screen before he turned to her.

 "It looks like we have to beat Gamer at his own game," He muttered, swiping his earrings. "Tikki! Spots On!!"

 He transformed and climbed out of the skylight before swinging across to the big pyramid. He landed on the building opposite it and frowned as he glanced around. No Lady Noir yet. That was odd. He took out his yoyo and dialled her baton, placing it to his ear. He frowned as it went straight to her voicemail, meaning she wasn't transformed. He hung up as two floating pyramids came towards him. They turned on their sides and opened up, revealing a video of Gamer. He blinked in surprise. 

 "Huh?! Where's Lady Noir?!" He gasped, causing Anatis to shrug. "But she has to be here! It's a two player game!!"

 "Well, she's not so why don't you surrender your akuma and we can call it a day?" Anatis stated, making Gamer frown. "I have better things then to play a game,"

 "If you don't play then I won't free the people trapped in it!!"

 "Urg fine but since Lady Noir is unavailable, I'll have to find a player two," Anatis stated, narrowing his eyes. Gamer looked at him for a second before nodding.

 "Very well, you have half an hour to find a suitable player," He declared, causing Anatis to nod before he swung off. He had no idea who he get as a second player and he was concerned as to why Lady Noir hasn't turned up but maybe Plagg would be at Master Fu's. Though he wasn't sure if Plagg would make a good player two. He landed in the alleyway and detransformed before rushing up into Master Fu's apartment, making the old man look up. 

 "Master, Gamer has returned and has captured a bunch of people in Paris to force them to play with him," He explained, glancing around for Plagg. "He's challenged me to a game but I need a second player as Lady Noir hasn't turned up. Isn't Plagg here?"

 "No, he isn't," Master Fu frowned as he got up and took out the miracle box. "Lady Noir should have turned up by now,"

 "I know. It's not like her to not turn up for a fight which means she physically can't," Luka frowned as Master Fu opened the box.

 "Luka Couffaine, choose an ally to fight or in this case play alongside of you for this mission," He declared as Luka glanced over the miraculous. "Choose wisely. Such powers are meant for the greater good. Once the mission is complete, you will return the miraculous to me. Do you have anyone in mind?"

 "Most of my allies have been akumatized at least once meaning they're trapped in the game," He muttered as he glanced over before his eyes landed on the snake. His mind drifted back to the first time Gamer attacked. Adrien had been part of the gaming team as well. He picked it up and held it. "But I know one of them who wasn't,"

 "Aspik?" Master Fu asked as Luka got up and put the bracelet in one of the smaller boxes. "If I recall, he's quite the gamer too. A good choice,"

 "Exactly," Luka replied before frowning a little. "I just hope Lady Noir is ok and not hurt..."

 "I'm sure she'll be fine but for now, focus on defeating the akuma,"

 "Right," Luka nodded, putting the box in his pocket. "Thank you, Master,"

 He rushed out and transformed into Anatis before swinging across to the school, landing on the school roof. Luckily, Adrien was there, trying to help Mrs Mendeleiev and the art teacher stop the remaining students, who hadn't been akumatized, from panicking. Anatis frowned as he looked down. Mireille, Aurore's best friend, was crying as both Aurora and Jean would have disappeared into the game since there were both akumatized. Anatis frowned a little more as Adrien tried to calm her down before taking out his yoyo and pulling up Adrien's number. He sent him a text, causing him to look at his phone before he looked up and turned to Mrs Mendeleiev. He told her something, causing her to nod before he rushed off. A few minutes later, he rushed out onto the roof.

 "Anatis," He gasped, holding his knees. "A number of students and teachers have disappeared including everyone else in my class-"

 "I know," He stated, turning to him. "Gamer has returned and challenged me to a game. I win and he frees his victims. He wins-"

 "And he gets your miraculous," Adrien replied, nodding. "But why aren't you playing?"

 "It's a two player game," Anatis replied, frowning. Adrien went to ask about Lady Noir but Anatis shook his head. "Lady Noir... is currently unavailable. I'm not sure why but it must be something to do with her civilian life..."

 He had a suspicion as to why she didn't turn. He knew the only reason was if she couldn't but there was only one reason why she wouldn't be able to. She must be stuck in the game, meaning she had been akumatized in her civilian form. His mind briefly flashed back to his nightmare, making him frown. She wasn't akumatized as Lady Noir so why didn't his mind go to that? He shook the thought from his head as he didn't want to dwell on it. He would ask her later but right now, he needed to win the game, free the victims and her. He opened his yoyo and took out the box, holding it out to Adrien.

 "I need Aspik," He stated, making Adrien nod and open the box. He put on the bracelet as Sass manifested.

 "Hello again, Adrien," The snake smiled as he floated before he turned to Anatis. "Master Anatis, it's good to see you too,"

 "Likewise," Anatis smiled as Adrien grinned.

 "Hey, Sass. I'm glad to see you again," He smiled, making the snake grin before he held up his arms. "Sass, scales slither!"

 He transformed into Aspik before the two heroes headed back to Gamer's pyramid. Aspik frowned a little as he saw the pyrapods before the video feed of Gamer appeared in them.

 "Ah back and with ten minutes to spare," He smirked before he looked over at Aspik. "Aspik? An interesting partner choice but I'm afraid it lowers your chance at winning by 10%,"

 "Let's just get on with the game, Gamer," Anatis declared, narrowing his eyes.

 "Very well. Please step into the Pyrapods if you ready," He stated, causing Aspik to turn to Anatis.

 "Anatis, what if this is a trap?" He asked, concerned. Anatis frowned before shaking his head. It didn't feel like a trap.

 "I don't think it is," He replied, taking out his yoyo and pressing the middle spot, causing it to raise up. "Gamer just wants to play so let's keep in touch,"

 Aspik nodded and took out an earpiece from his lyre as Anatis placed his in his ear before the two of them stepped into the Pyrapods. The pods closed and jolted as they flew over to the pyramid before the screen changed and showed the area. Anatis frowned a little as they came to a stop before a rubix shape appeared in front of him.

 "Take your pyrapad," Gamer ordered, causing Anatis to put his hands into it. A green light appeared, causing him to try and pull back but his hands were stuck.

 "Anatis, I can't move my hands from the controls," Aspik stated in his ear.

 "I think it's to make sure we don't try to get away from gaming," He replied as a small square appeared on the screen, showing Gamer.

 "Welcome to Miraculous All Star Brawl," He stated, grinning. "If you win, I'll set you and all of the characters free,"

 "They're real people, Max," Anatis growled as the screen showed the different akumas but Gamer ignored him.

 "If I win, you surrender your miraculous and give me Lady Noir's location," He declared, causing Anatis to frown before he picked a character. He chose The Mime, causing Gamer to chose Riposte. 

 "The Mime! Riposte! Ready?!" A deep voice stated. "Fight!"

 Riposte charged at the mime, talking with Gamer's voice. Anatis mimed a wall, causing her to push him back towards the edge.

 "Shouldn't you mind an Aspik to try and help you?" Aspik suggested, making Anatis groan.

 "I know what I'm doing!" He declared, causing the wall to disappear. He mentally cursed himself.

 "Careful!" Aspik gasped as he mimed a block to block her attack. "If you talk, the mime will stop working,"

 "Thank you, Captain Obvious!" Anatis replied before tripping Riposte up and miming his yoyo before using it to throw her off the edge, winning the round. Her ring appeared in his inventory. "There I won! Now let everyone go!!"

 "A game in just one round?!" He replied, making Anatis frown. "Where's the fun in that, Anatis? It doesn't end up til you've battled all of the characters,"

 "Seriously?! That will take forever!" Anatis groaned as Gamer laughed. He did not have time to game. He wanted to finish hanging out with Marinette and Kitty section then go home and try to sleep.

 "That's the best part about it!!" Gamer gasped, clearly happy to be playing. "The longer the better!!"

 "My turn!! My turn!!" Aspik gasped, making Anatis groan again as he flicked through the characters. "Frightingale! Stormy Weather! Awesome!! But a little too awesome for a first battle. Oh! Lady Copycat!! Or maybe your Copy cat! Well... Actis! I've always wanted to be you!!"

 "Just hurry up and pick Actis!!" Anatis gasped, clearly annoyed.

 "Fine, if we need to hurry this up," Aspik replied but he moved the controls and picked Mr Pigeon instead.

 "You have gotta to be kidding me!" Anatis gasped, groaning as Gamer laughed.

 "What? I've always wanted to train Pigeons," Aspik admitted as Mr Pigeon. Dark Cupid appeared in the area as Anatis groaned.

 "There ain't even any pigeons in this stadium!" He declared in Gamer's voice again as Mr Pigeon took out his whistle and blew it. A few seconds later, one pigeon flew over and landed on his outstretched arm.

 "There's one and I'm gonna call him...." Mr Pigeon made a thinking face. "Fiery Phoenix!"

 He dabbed, causing the pigeon to the same as Anatis groaned again. Dark Cupid flew up and began to fire at him, causing him to run away.

 "More like Megaflop phoenix," He declared, laughing. "It's gonna be the first victory ever!"

 He looked up as Fiery Phoenix flew towards him in flames and hit him in the chest, knocking him down before he repeatedly attacked him, causing Gamer to scream.

 "Ah! Go away, you flying rat!!" He shouted as Mr Pigeon ran over to him and grabbed his ankle.

 "Double Ankle grab and Smash!" Aspik declared, pulling him down and throwing him into the ground before he jumped high into the air and jumped down towards Dark Cupid. "Somersault wrap tap!"

 He landed in the middle of his chest, causing Dark Cupid to cry out as he lifted his arm.

 "Feathered face wash!!" He declared, causing Fiery Phoenix to land on Dark Cupid's face and brush his tail feathers on him. He grabbed his pin and threw it away from him before jumping towards it. "The volatile's elbow!"

 He landed his elbow on it, crushing it.

 "Mr Pigeon wins!" The deep voice declared as he held up his arms. Fiery Phoenix flew over and landed on him, causing him to hold up his fist.

 "Pound it, Fiery Phoenix," He grinned, causing the bird to tap his fist with it's head. Dark Cupid disappeared and the loot went to Aspik.

 "Impossible!" Gamer declared. 

 "There we both won!" Anatis groaned. "Can we do now?!"

 "Not yet!" He declared, making him groan. "We have some many characters to go through first and then the final boss,"

 "Great," Anatis stated in a dull voice, picking Befana. Gamer picked Dark Owl before the two started to fight. Anatis fired at him but Gamer used Owl Mist then knocked him off the bike before kicking him into the ground, causing Anatis to lose before he dabbed and said something about been the dark owl, complete with a dab. Anatis rolled his eyes. "Lucky shot,"

 "My turn!!" Aspik declared, choosing Reflekta. Anatis resisted having a go at him. "Ohh this brings back memories,"

 Reflekta appeared in the arena as Gamer chose Rogercop. The deep voice announced the fight but the two stood there, staring each other down. They twitched their fingers, causing Anatis to groan again as they were taking their time. Reflekta lifted her hand, causing Roger to fire at her but she hit him first as he missed, turning him into her clone. He stumbled around as she walked over.

 "They see me Catwalking," Aspik declared as Gamer stumbled over to the edge before he pushed him off it, winning the round. "They hating,"

 "Urg! Stop boasting!" He groaned, picking Actis next. Gamer picked Puppeteer. "Anti-Charm!"

 He summoned a sword and charged at her but she took out a puppet of him.

 "Actis! Come to Life!" Gamer declared, taking control and making him stab himself. Anatis growled and picked another character, ignoring Aspik's protest. He picked Gorzilla, causing Gamer to pick Stoneheart. He rushed over and punched him, making him grow in size and dropped him off the edge. Anatis stared at the screen before lowering his head in shame. He should have remembered Stoneheart grown in size. He shouldn't have rushed in. He was stupid. Aspik stated something and played as some character but he didn't pay attention. He was so tired and drained it was unreal. He felt his eyes water as he tried to hold back his emotions and not cry. He was tired of crying. He wanted to know why he was plagued by nightmares and why he seemed cursed. 

 "Anatis?" Aspik's voice echoed, making him sniff as he blinked away tears. "Are... are you ok?"

 "No," He replied, honestly. "I'm so tired of everything! I haven't slept in days and I can't even play these games anyway! I'm not good at them at all! Lady Noir is the gamer not me and I have no idea where she is!! I don't know how to play!"

 "Ok, don't worry, my bug friend," Aspik tried to reassure. "I got this!"

 He picked Lady Wifi and Gamer chose Time Breaker. He paused her instantly.

 "Anatis, the best way to win isn't knowing how to play or been a gamer. That's not the point of games," Aspik stated, making Anatis. "Sure, I'm a hardcore gamer but that's just me. Not everyone is like that but doesn't mean you can't enjoy them. You're smart and games like this need that. You need to think about your moves and come up with a plan. Just like your lucky charm. And I get you haven't slept but maybe this game can help you relax. Maybe the reason why you can't sleep is because you're stressed out. A game like this can really help with that. I love playing a brawl game when my day's been too much or my dad's ignored me again. I pretend it's him or that I'm someone else,"

 He pushed Time breaker of the edge, winning the round before choose Zombiezou.

 "It's not about winning. It's all about loving to play and having fun," He stated, skipping around and defeating Horrificator. "Playing is the best way to do something you'd never do in real life. You can be anyone you want in games. That's why I love them. There's no expectations or impossible standards to meet! It's time to let yourself have some fun. Do that, Anatis and Gamer won't stand a chance,"

 "... Playing is the best way to do something that you wouldn't normally do in real life..." Anatis repeated, looking up as he looked at Volpina, Mob Boss and a few other characters including the Collector and Blackout. "You know there's a few things I've always wanted to do,"

 He selected Evillustrator as a counter to Volpina and drew a massive boxing glove, punching her off the edge. He couldn't help but grin as he always wanted to do that. With Blackout, he used Verity Queen to capturing him and force him off the edge. Aspik took out Pixalator with Desparada and used Troublemaker against Darkblade. Anatis used Princess Fragrance against Prime Queen and took out the Collector with Malediktator. They used Style Queen against Vanisher and Ikari Gozen against Loveater. Using Frozer, Anatis took on Mob Boss, freezing him in place and pushing him off the edge. That was really satisfying. He picked out Princess Justice and used her against the Bubbler. They continued to battle until they came to the last three triangles, declaring how much they loved the game as they did.

 "Might I remind you this isn't just a game!" Gamer declared, making Anatis smirk.

 "You're the one who wanted us to have fun!" He retorted back. "I think we're ready for the final boss. Right, Aspik?"

 "Damn right!" He replied, smirking. "Stop hiding behind your toys and get in the ring, Gamer!"

 "I am the final boss," He admitted, showing himself at the top of the diamond. "But how are we gonna figure out who should fight me?"

 "What?" Anatis gasped before he suddenly appeared in the actual arena, opposite Aspik, who looked just as surprise.

 "Admittedly, I would have liked to have seen you vs Lady Noir but I'll set for a fight between you and Aspik, Anatis since two against one would be really unfair," Gamer declared as they stared at each other.

 "Anatis! Aspik! Ready! Fight!" The deep voice declared as they stared at each other.

 "What are you waiting for?! Start fighting!" Gamer declared, making Anatis narrow his eyes. "If you don't, everyone will be imprisoned forever,"

 "I'm sorry, Aspik but I can't let that happen," Anatis replied, unhooking his yoyo. "I don't want to fight you but..."

 "I get it, Anatis," He smiled understandingly. "We have to save them but there's no way I could ever fight against you, Boss,"

 He began to walk backwards, surprising Anatis.

 "We both know you have to fight Gamer. You're the only one who can fix everything..." He stated, stopping the edge.

 "You could use my power!" Anatis gasped but Aspik frowned and shook his head.

 "We don't know if the cure would work though," He replied, making Anatis frown. He had a point. "For all we know, Gamer has rigged it to ensure I can't use the cure or there could be a bug in that wouldn't allow it! I'd just end up in a constant loop, reliving my failures over and over again. At least this way, we know for certain you can fix everything. So let me do what the snake does best and give you time..."

 He closed his eyes and held out his arms.

 "Save them," He whispered before letting himself drop. Anatis rushed to the edge and looked over as Aspik fell, causing him to look at him. "I trust you to bring me back, Anatis..."

 "Anatis wins!" The voice declared as he hit the ground and disappeared.

 "You're the one who wanted to get it over with," Gamer declared, making Anatis grit his teeth before a screen appeared in front of him. "Now since this is the final round, you can pick four other powers, along with your own superpower,"

 Anatis narrowed his eyes and went to pick out Evillustrator's pen, Aspik's Bracelet, Style Queen's Rose and Gigtitian's bracelet as Gamer went on about how it didn't matter as he would win anyway. However, he stopped and thought about it before shaking his head and removing the items. He needed to work out a good plan and one that worked with his lucky charm. He threw his yoyo up into the air.

 "Lucky charm!" He declared, summoning a small bag of flour and catching it, making Gamer laugh.

 "You intend to beat me, the creator of the gamer, with a bag of flour?!" He asked as Anatis looked the screen, smirking as certain items lit up. He picked Lady Copycat's ring, Troublemaker's Pen, Sandboy's Pillow and Volpina's Necklace, turning them into their items. "Give what you have chose in peicely 1 minutes and 36 seconds, you will lose,"

 "Will I?" Anatis smirked as he put Lady Copycat's ring, tucked the pen into his belt and placed the flute onto his back. He grabbed the pillow and looked up at Gamer as he appeared in the arena, switching between characters as the voice announced their fight. "Ready to lose, gamer?"

 "You'll be the one who's losing," He declared. "Though I wish it could have last longer but my statics are never wrong,"

 "Really?" Anatis asked, smirking. "Did they predict this? Cataclysm!"

 He slammed his hand onto the ground, cracking it and jumped onto Sandboy's pillow as Gamer fell and laughed.

 "I'm the game master!" He declared, changing into Banfana and flying up. "I can play any character. Now be a nice fairy and give me your miraculous,"

 He fired at him but Anatis clicked Troublemaker's pen, making intangible. Nothing Gamer did touched him, making him cry out in frustration.

 "You're ruining it!" He declared, making Anatis smirk a little.

 "Too bad," He replied, looking at him as he tried to attack him. "You missed.... by the way in Chess, this is known as a pat. A can't win, can't lose situation. What was it you said? The longer the better?"

 "Why you!" He growled but Anatis's earrings beeped. "Oh you thought you're so clever?! Well, checkmate Anatis! I just have to wait this for you to transform back,"

 "Hmm... well, this is was just step one of my plan," He replied, making Gamer glare at him as he clicked the pen. "Time for step two,"

 He stabbed the flour bag, causing a smoke screen of flour to appear. He quickly pulled out the flute and played a tune on it.

 "Mirage!" He declared, throwing the ball before playing a second tune. This time it made him invisible as the first illusion made a bunch of clones to distract Gamer and fly around as well. He flew behind part of the stage before taking out the flute and whispering. "Mirage,"

 A ball of light appeared, allowing him to create a third illusion of himself flying around and dodging Gamer's attack. He allowed this version to fly upside down and fall of it's pillow, landing on the ground.

 "I've won! You're out, Anatis!" Gamer declared, smirking but Anatis didn't disappear, making him gasp as he turned into Reverser. "What?! There's no way!!"

 "I don't believe it!" Anatis declared as he whispered into the ball of light before he laughed. "Your game has a bug in it, Gamer!"

 "No!! That's impossible!" He declared, flying over.

 "Even the best designed games has bugs in it," Anatis replied as Gamer leaned over and carefully touched the ground, causing him to turn back into himself.

 "Ring out!" The announcer declared. "Anatis wins!"

 Gamer gasped and touched the illusion, causing it to disappear as the real Anatis flew out.

 "But sometimes they don't," He replied as Gamer looked at him in surprise.

 "Well played, Anatis," He replied, smiling. "Good Game,"

 He disappeared, leaving his glasses. Anatis grabbed them and snapped them in half before capturing the butterfly and re-releasing it once it was purified before he took out the bag of flour and threw it up into the air, releasing the cure. Aspik reappeared with Gamer as the pyramid disappeared, causing Anatis to walk over to them.

 "Thank you for your help today, Aspik," He smiled, making the hero nod before he turned to Gamer, who had turned back to Max. "Your game looks amazing and I'm sure you'll find someone to play it,"

 "Thank you, Anatis," He smiled as the two heroes left. They made a way to an alleyway and Aspik turned back into Adrien.

 "You know if you need someone to talk to, you can reach out to me," He declared, making Anatis nod. "And maybe try some herbal tea. It might help with your sleep. Father has me drink for my sleep pattern,"

 "Thanks, Adrien. I'll give it a go,"

 ~Later That Night~

 Anatis hummed as he waited for Lady Noir. He felt someone land next to him but he knew it wasn't her. Instead, Koro sat next to him.

 "You handled the situation well today,"

 "I almost didn't," He replied, frowning before looking at her. "What do you want?"

 "To see how you are," She replied, looking back. "Your partner didn't turn up,"

 "She had her reasons,"

 "You trust her?"

 "She's never let me down,"

 "And you think I have?" She asked, making him frown as he thought about it before he nodded. "I see,"

 For a moment, they were silence.

 "It's funny actually," He stated, making her look at him. "I feel like I can trust you but you didn't do anything about Hawkmoth and then just turned up out of nowhere. I could have used help on Heroes day or during Princess Justice but you didn't turn up then so I find it hard to trust you, despite what my gut says. Why didn't you turn up?"

 "Honestly... because I'm a coward," She stated, frowning. "I ran from the order and abandoned their ways. When Hawkmoth turned up, I moved here to look into it but I was too afraid to reveal myself or bring out my box. It got worse when Aspik and Ryuko turned up. I was afraid to reveal myself to the guardian because I thought it might have been Su Han or his followers. I would have killed them. I still want to. Revenge has been my life for centuries but I knew if I killed them, Hawkmoth might win so I stayed away until Toutai warned me about Miracle Queen. I don't know why he did. He must be so ashamed of me,"

 "He isn't," Anatis stated quickly, making her look at him. "I know he isn't... but I think you need to let go of that anger. I know it's hard to but it will do you no favors and only make you bitter,"

 "You've lost someone yourself?" She asked, making him frown and shake his head.

 "No... it's just... a feeling I have," He replied, looking down. It wasn't just a feeling. It came from Feng. It was his emotions. "Look, I'm sorry I had a go at you..."

 "No, I get it," She replied, nodding. "You have every right to be angry,"

 "Right... but I don't want to be," He replied, looking at her. "I have my team and Fu but we need allies so... let's try again. I don't trust you 100 percent yet but how can I learn to if we don't interact?"

 "That is a good point," She replied as Lady Noir landed on the roof and walked over. She stood and bowed. "I'll take my leave... you're wise beyond your years, Anatis,"

 "Right," He nodded as she jumped away. As soon as she was gone, Lady Noir turned to him as he stood up. She played with her hands and looked down.

 "I am-" She started but he cut her off by engulfing her in a hug. She blinked and hugged back, standing there for a few seconds before he pulled away.

 "You're safe," He smiled gently, making her eyes fill with tears. "I'm glad,"

 "I'm so sorry I couldn't turn up," She gasped, blinking away her tears. "I was..."

 "Trapped in the game," He stated, making her blink. "I know... you've been akumatized before you were Lady Noir. I'm guessing it was before I was Anatis..."

 "Y-Yeah," She replied. It wasn't a lie. She had become Princess Justice before he appeared. "I'm sorry... I should have told you but I was embarrassed and afraid you'd hate me,"

 "I could never hate you," He replied, hugging her again. "And I'm sorry you got akumatized and felt like you couldn't tell me. I won't ask who you were as I'm sure it might reveal the girl under the mask and I'm sure you don't want me to know... but you're still amazing and my best friend, Lady Noir. I don't think of you any less,"

 "Anatis..." She whispered, hugging him back. "Thank you for been so understanding,"

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

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

#luka couffaine #Ladybug Luka Couffaine | Anatis #protective luka couffaine #sad luka #angry luka #Snake Adrien Agreste | Aspik #marinette dupain cheng #cat marinette dupain cheng | lady noir #Gamer 2.0 #Lila is terrible #more details on that later #lukanette #lukanette moment #lukanette is endgame #lukanette endgame #rise of anatis #return of actis and lady copycat briefly #hua mulan #let luka sleep #nightmares #foreshadowing #bad feelings #darkness is coming #foresight #aspik #gamer bros #anatis can't game #does his best #badass marinette #akumatized

[prettyyoungandbored]

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Seven

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: This chapter contains description of a heavy panic attack. Please read at your own risk.

Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho (Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!)

Author’s Note: A chunk of dialogue in this chapter comes from the movie and has been expanded on to fit the storyline. 

Previous

“And when exactly is your mother planning to visit us?” Monsignor O’Malley inquired as he followed Demetria. 

Demetria snapped a photo of the hallway before looking over her shoulder. “Most likely next month. Once I send her the photos , she’ll work on drafts and whenever she comes, we can all sit down and discuss how to go about the process.” She snapped her fingers. “You know what, I have her business card with me because she sometimes does work in Gotham City.” 

She pulled out her wallet from her purse and handed Monsignor O’Malley the thing off white card. “She’ll be happy to answer any of your questions and or concerns.” 

He smiled as he took the card. “This is awfully generous of you, Ms. Gallagher. We can’t tell you how grateful we are.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” she waved her hand. “Both Bruce and I want to make sure you, the sisters, and the boys are taken care of with whatever you need.” She paused. “How are the boys doing?” 

“They’re wonderful.” 

“Oh good! I was actually wondering if I could go say ‘hi’ or-.” 

“Unfortunately the boys are on a field trip with the sisters.”

Demetria nodded understandingly, trying to hide her disappointment. “Absolutely.” Then an idea hit her. “Do the nuns teach the boys?” 

“Some do. We’ve been thinking about incorporating more schooling into the boys schedules, but we’re a little short staffed and not all the nuns feel comfortable teaching certain subjects.” 

“I’d love to step in,” Demetria offered. 

Monsignor O’Malley raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What is it you would teach?” 

“I’m excellent at English. All levels. I was a TA my senior year of high school. I even minored in it in college.” 

Monsignor O’Malley nodded his head, impressed. “Well, if it doesn’t interfere with your schedule-.” 

“I don’t have one,” she laughed. 

He chuckled. “Then I suppose it’s something we can try out. Are you free next week?”

Her eyes lit up. “Absolutely!’ I would love that!”

Before she could say more, the sound of her phone ringing cut her off. She gave Monsignor O’Malley an apologetic smile as she dug into her bag. “Excuse me one second.” 

She glanced down to see it was a reminder that she had to start getting ready for the fundraiser. 

“Please excuse me, but I’ve got to head out,” Demetria said. “Remember, if you have any questions, you have my number as well as my mom’s.” 

“Of course. I also look forward to discussing you working here.” 

“I do as well.” 

The two shook hands and Demetria headed out of the orphanage.

She had taken Bruce’s Cadillac XLR, seeing as it was the only semi-low-key-looking car he owned and the only one she didn’t get anxious driving. She wished he had owned something a little less glamorous for trips like this, hating how it made her look, but it was what it was.

As she she opened the driver’s side door, she noticed a photographer snapping her from the distance. The two stared at each for a moment, acknowledging just what was going on. She exhaled softly, mentally reminding herself to keep it together.

Since her essay was published, the media outlets had backed off a bit. The Gotham Times were still insistent of doing a piece on her and published one on her, but it turned out to be a dud as no one close to her would speak to them with the exception of her former News Director and the Head Booker, her other boss. It also helped that a local mob boss was mysteriously killed and the news decided to fixate on that. 

She gave him a quick, tired smile before she slid inside and closed the door, driving off.

===================================================

Back at the Wayne Penthouse, Bruce adjusted the cuffs of his pristine white dress shirt as he made his way down the stairs. 

Alfred wrapped up his conversation with the party planners and turned his attention to Bruce. 

“I think your fundraiser will be a great success,” Alfred remarked. 

“Why do you think I want to hold a party for Harvey Dent?” Bruce questioned, almost annoyed at the thought of it. 

“I assumed it was your usual reason for socializing beyond myself and the scum of Gotham’s underbelly to try to impress Miss Gallagher.” 

“Very droll, very wrong,” Bruce responded, glancing up for a brief moment. 

Alfred looked over his shoulder for a moment, noticing the party planners were not in the room. “Have you considered telling Miss Gallagher what it is you’re doing at night?” Alfred inquired in a voice low enough for Bruce to hear him. 

Bruce glanced up. It wasn’t the first time this conversation came up between the two. “Soon.” 

“Before or after you say ‘I do’?” 

“When the time is right.” 

“Perhaps she should truly know what she’s getting herself into.” 

Bruce stopped in his tracks. “What are you implying, Alfred?” 

“Miss Gallagher has given you every ounce of herself.” 

“Who says I-.” 

Bruce’s attention was caught by the low sound of the television. He looked over to find GCN airing what appeared to be a figure of Batman, hanging with a rope around it’s neck on a building.  The lower third read “BATMAN DEAD?”

Demetria walked down the stairs and into the living room, tightening the belt on her cozy white bathrobe when she saw Bruce and Alfred staring at the tv. Curious, her eyes darted to the tv when she saw the lower third. 

Her blood ran cold with disbelief and shock, heart dropping into her stomach. 

The camera cut back to GCN anchor, Mike Engel. 

“Be aware, the image is disturbing,” he warned. 

The camera then cut to a man dressed in a cheap Batman getup, his plump cheeks spilling out of the cowl. He was sat on the floor of what looked like the back kitchen area of a butcher shop with a silver cart and a large pieces of animal meat hanging behind the victim. He had his hands tied behind them, his face lowered to the game. 

“Tell them your name,” the camera man said in a menacing, sing-song voice. 

“Brian Douglas,” the fake Batman answered weakly.

“Are you the real Batman?” There was a childish, teasing tone in the voice behind the camera to a point where it was menacing. It was almost as if whoever it was took immense pleasure in this man’s torture. 

“No.” Brian was barely hanging on. 

“No?” the voice repeated back, almost in a whine to mimic Brian’s pain. 

“No.”

“No?” The voice giggled. An arm reached over and pulled the cowl off Brian. “Then why do you dress up like him?” The camera pulled back, the arm dangling the cowl in front of Brian. The voice laughed a stomach curdling “Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!”

“Because he’s a symbol...that we don't have to be afraid of scum like you,” Brian retorted with a slight bit of courage in his weak tone. 

“Yeah. You do, Brian.” The hand grabbed the side of Brian’s face, the camera coming in close. “You really do.”

The hand pulled the top of Brian’s head as the man whimpered. The hand turned back and stroked Brian’s cheek. “Oh, shh shh shh.” 

Demetria shook her head, her stomach growing weak. Bruce’s eyes fixated on the TV, his expression stone cold with eyes colored in disbelief. 

“So,” the voice continued on, “you think the Batman's helped Gotham? Hmm?”

Brian didn’t respond. 

“LOOK AT ME!” 

The roaring voice caused Demetria to jump back, her hand slapping on her mouth. 

The camera swung around to reveal the person behind the voice, the sight causing Demetria to yelp, “Jesus Christ!” 

The red smeared smile was complimented by his chalk-white foundation and accentuated the long scars on the sides of his face. Two lazily painted black eyeshadow covered his eyes and he revealed his dark yellow teeth. 

“You see, this is how crazy Batman's made Gotham. You want order in Gotham, Batman must take off his mask, and turn himself in.”

It was something behind the clown that Demetria recognized. A memory popped up in her mind, her jaw dropping at the realization. 

“Oh, and everyday he doesn’t, people will die. Starting tonight. I’m a man of my word.”

As the camera switched around, the man let out a menacing cackle as Brian screamed in the background. Demetria, overcome with her realization and the man’s grim promise, hurried up the stairs, Bruce and Alfred watching her. Bruce turned off the television and glanced at Alfred who shot him a look. He gave the old man a nod, indicating the message was received.

In their bedroom, Demetria grabbed a notebook from her nightstand as well as a pen. She began writing hurriedly, her cursive handwriting slightly smudged from the pen. Upon finishing, she ripped the page from her notebook and folded it. She reached back into the drawer, grabbing an empty envelope and shoving the folded paper in there. She licked the envelope, sealing tightly with her fingers and placed it back into the drawer. 

Just as she went to close the drawer, she heard the door unlock and grabbed her anti-anxiety meds.

Bruce entered the room.

“Everything ok?” he asked, gentle concern laced in his tone.

She waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just that video was, uh, pretty overwhelming to watch. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.” 

He eyed the pilll bottle in her hand. “You know you should probably put that in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”

She chuckled. “You’re right. I’m just used to putting them in nightstand drawer. But considering we’re having a bunch of random people over, I guess you’re right.” She paused, a smirk playing on her lips. “Should I leave some viagra in a little bowl for our older guests trying to impress their much younger dates?”

He sat beside her on the bed, smirking at her. “I don’t have any because I don’t need it.”

She hummed, patting his leg. “I wouldn’t say that.”

He pulled her close, his breath hitting her lips. “Not funny.” 

“Oh, but it is. It really is.”

She gave him a chaste kiss, nuzzling her nose against his. “You think maybe we should cancel this party? I mean, I don’t think it’s safe.” 

“We’re going to be fine,” Bruce reassured. 

She sighed, realizing there was no point in changing his mind. “Then I guess I better continue getting ready.” 

He chuckled. “Well, don’t get too excited, sweetheart.” 

“It’s just...” she stepped back, “I don’t know.” Her fingers toyed the robed belt. “I figured you’d cancel the party and we could spend the night in here...” She continued to move back toward the bathroom area, throwing off the robe to reveal her naked body to him. “And I’d let you do whatever you want to me. But since you won’t cancel it...” She shrugged. “Oh well.” 

Bruce could feel his pants grow a little tight and he was ready to have her pay the price. His hungry eyes stayed on her, like a lion ready to pounce on it’s prey. “You get back here. Right. Now.” 

She shook her head. “I have to get ready.” She pointed to the tent in his pants. “I suggest you take care of that situation before you leave this room.” 

She grabbed the robe from the floor and closed the door behind her, locking it so Bruce wouldn’t try anything. 

She exhaled and ran a hand through her damp hair. She wasn’t sure how long this party would last, but she had to make sure Batman got her letter. 

==================================================

Bruce waited outside near the helicopter landing pad, his hands in his pockets. He watched as the navy blue sky took over the sunset, but once he turned his head, his breath was taken away by an even more beautiful sight. 

Demetria walked out on to the helicopter landing pad, her black hair in an updo with long, curled strands of hair framing her face. Her navy blue gown was strapless with a subtle reverse sweetheart neckline, and hugged her small curves just right before flowing out on to the floor.  Her makeup stayed on the subtle side with her eyeliner and mascara accentuating her warm, emerald green eyes and her Goldilocks lips were the perfect shade of pink. 

“Is it too much?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. She put a hand on her stomach, feeling the knot inside tightening. Her face fell into a panic. “Oh shit, it is, isn’t it?” 

He shook his head, his thumb grazing her cheek as he smiled at her adoringly. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”

Color filled her cheeks as her pink lips curved into a bashful smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Wayne.” 

His lips gently crashed on to hers as he cradled the side of her face. For a moment, as they relished in their kiss, the world was still and time froze. Neither of them could remember the last time they shared such a moment, but they truly savored it while they still could. 

Bruce pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers. “For the record, you still owe me from before.” 

She hummed against his lips. “I’ll take it into consideration.” 

He smirked at her. “You’re lucky I like you. C’mon, let’s go.”

He took her hand in his, leading her onto the helicopter. The pilot helped her up first, Bruce following right after. As the two sat in the back, Demetria turned to him.  “What’s the point of doing this again?”  

He took her hand once again. “Grand entrances are fun. Plus, wait til’ you see the view from above.” 

He felt her latch on to his arm as the sound of the choppers roared in. Soon enough, the helicopter began rising, the weight of the ground lifting. As it took off into Gotham City, Demetria watched the twinkling city below her.

As childish as it seemed, Demetria felt like Jasmine did on that magic carpet with Aladdin. Seeing Gotham from a bird’s eye view, the city looked beautiful and peaceful. 

Bruce relished in watching his fiancé’s amazement, hoping he could make her feel this way for the rest of their lives. 

She looked over at him. “You were right. This is incredible.” 

She scooted closer to him, leaning back on his shoulder as she continued to look out the window. Bruce pressed a kiss to her temple, reaching his hand over to hers on her lap, clasping them. 

Both stayed in the moment, wishing they could stay like this forever. 

But once the helicopter scoured every inch part of Gotham, it was time to descend back onto the landing pad. 

Bruce helped Demetria off the helicopter. Her eyes shifted to the once empty ballroom which was now filled with a large crowd inside staring at her. Her chest grew heavy, palms sweating.

“They’re staring at us,” she told Bruce. 

He took her hand. “They see how you beautiful you look”. He gave it squeeze. “Remember, I’ve got you.” 

She nodded and exhaled softly as the two made their way inside. 

She followed him as the door opened to the gala room. All eyes stayed on them. She flashed a closed mouth smile at partygoers until her eyes met Harvey’s. It wasn’t until his familiar, warm smile that hers became more genuine and honest. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Bruce announced. “Glad you started without us!” He let go of Demetria’s hand, clapping his together. “Where's Rachel?!”

Demetria eye’s turned to Rachel, who cringed slightly. 

Bruce motioned to her. “Rachel Dawes- my oldest friend. When she told me she was dating Harvey Dent, I had one thing to say... ‘the guy from those god-awful campaign commercials? 'I Believe in Harvey Dent?' Nice slogan, Harvey.” 

As the crowd chuckled, Demetria’s smile faltered even more. She was thrown off by the Bruce that was speaking. It was like the second his hand left hers, he’d become another man. He’d become like everyone else in the crowd - pompous and slightly arrogance.

He’s putting on a show for them, she thought to herself. This is not the real him.

“Certainly caught Rachel's attention,” Bruce went on. “But then I started paying attention to Harvey, and all he's been doing as our new D.A., and you know what? I believe in Harvey Dent. On his watch, Gotham can feel a little safer. A little more optimistic. But what he’s done for Gotham isn’t just the only good thing Harvey Dent has done.”

He then shifted his tone and his gaze, now looking at Demetria who’s heart dropped to her stomach. 

“Harvey convinced his good friend from college, Demetria Gallagher, to move to Gotham,” Bruce continued, smiling at her. “It’s because of Harvey and Rachel that I was introduced to the love of my life.” 

The crowd let out a collective “aw” as Demetria gave him a small smile.

“I spent years thinking I’d never find the ‘one’.” He turned back to the crowd. “I figured if I’m never gonna find her, why not have some fun? And I did.”

The crowd laughed. Demetria rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“Then I ran into Rachel having a lunch with this beautiful woman and I couldn’t help myself. I asked her three times to have dinner with me.” Bruce shifted his attention to Demetria, taking her hand in his. “While I will never know who or what convinced you to say ‘yes’, all I know is that from the moment I left that dinner, I knew this witty, kind, beautiful woman was who I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Demetria, to say you are my heart and my soul is simply not enough. There will never be enough words or adjectives or uses of symbolism to describe how much you mean to me and how happy you make me. I love you more than anything.”

The crowd, once again, “awed” as he pecked Demetria’s cheek. He then grabbed two glasses of champagne off the server’s tray, handing one to Demetria. He then  turned back to the crowd, raising his glass. “To-.” 

“I just want to say something really quickly,” Demetria spoke up, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “If that’s, ok?”

Bruce smiled, her sudden burst of confidence bringing him pride. “By all means.”

She turned to the crowd. “You all know Harvey as your DA, but I know him as  my confidant, my greatest friend, and above all, my family. He’s also my get out of jail free card, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Everyone laughed as Harvey shook his head. Demetria turned to her best friend, her smile fading a bit. 

“Harvey, you’re selflessness and dedication to making Gotham City a safer one for its citizens is not just admirable, but also inspirational. You fight for the voiceless, the scared, and for those who want to make their home a better place. You’re one of the reasons Gotham has a brighter future.”

“So get out your checkbooks and let's make sure that he stays right where all of Gotham wants him,” Bruce toasted. “All except Gotham's criminals, of course. To the face of Gotham's bright future- Harvey Dent.” 

Everyone toasted and took a sip of their champagne.

As the crowd went back to their party, Bruce turned to Demetria.

“I’m going to go outside for a bit,” he told her, pecking her cheek. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

She opened her mouth to protest but it was too late - he’d wandered off. She sighed, wondering how he could he just leave her to fend for herself at their first gala together. She took a sip of her champagne, giving up and giving in to the situation at hand.  

“You’re a very lucky woman,” an elderly woman marveled. “And quite adorable. I bet Martha would’ve loved you.”

“Thank you, that’s so kind,” Demetria remarked. “Were you a friend of hers?”

“We were both on the chair for many charities. Such a wonderful woman. If you’re interested, I would love to bring you aboard some of them and get you acquainted.”

“I would love that! I’m actually working with the boy’s home and helping them with renovations and whatnot.”

“How wonderful!”

“I’ve also expressed interest in helping them with schooling and whatnot.” 

The gleam in the woman’s eyes softened. “Oh...really, now?” 

“Yeah, I would love to do some teaching.” 

“She’s going to do a fantastic job,” Harvey remarked, chiming in. He threw his hand around Demetria’s shoulders. “Those kids are going to be well looked after thanks to her.”

“I don’t doubt that,” the woman agreed before walking off. 

Demetria turned to Harvey. “I think she realized I wasn’t one of them.” 

“Who cares?” he shrugged. “But forgetting that, you’re seriously going to become a teacher?” 

“I brought it up to Monsignor O’Malley about the possibility of teaching English. Besides, it would give me something to do that I actually like. You know, talking to them about novels and what it means to express yourself in your writing.” 

“That’s fantastic!” Harvey remarked. “You would be perfect for that.” 

“I hope so. How are you handling this...whatever it is?” 

He sighed. “I’m...just here. How about you?” 

“I wanna go into my bedroom and go under the covers and wait til’ everyone leaves.” 

“Well for what it’s worth, you look beautiful tonight.” 

“I’m working with what I’ve got.”

“Bruce is very lucky.”

“Yeah, he should be. But he decided to give up on the party.” 

Harvey furrowed his eyebrows as Demetria motioned her head to the outside. He then turned his head, the two watching Bruce and Rachel engage in what appeared to be an intense conversation. 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Demetria wondered aloud. 

He quickly glanced over and took a look sip of his champagne. “Probably nothing.”

Her lips curved into a smirk as she eyed Harvey. “Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re getting defensive.”

“And you’re annoying me.”

“After that heartfelt speech I gave, that’s the thanks I get?” 

“It was alright.” 

She punched him in the shoulder, causing him to cringe. “Asshole. I gave a beautiful speech.”

He rubbed his shoulder. “Well, hopefully it will be just a nice ad one you’ll give at my wedding.” 

Her eyes widened. “Shut the fuck up. You proposed to Rachel?” 

“Not yet. I’m planning to.” 

Her mouth hung open as she leaned in close. “Holy shit, dude! When?!” 

“Well first there are some things I gotta-.”

“So you two are friends, yes?” another female guest inquired, cutting him off. Her arm was linked with a man who looked at least 20 years older than she did.

Harvey and Demetria turned to her. “We most certainly are,” Demetria agreed, pinching his cheek. 

“So how long ago did you two date?” one man remarked, chuckling. 

Harvey and Demetria’s eyes went wide.

“We never have,” Harvey answered.

The man elbowed Harvey, laughing. “Aw, c’mon son. It’s alright.” 

“He’s basically my brother,” Demetria said. 

The man shook his head as he and his concerned date turned away. Demetria and Harvey turned to each other.

“Oh my god these people suck,” she giggled to Harvey. “At least they’ll fund you.”

“Yeah, I could give a shit,” he retorted. 

“Mind if I steal him for a bit?” Rachel asked, chiming in. 

“By all means,” Demetria motioned. 

Harvey and Rachel went off when Demetria  noticed Bruce still standing outside. She made her way out.

“Doing ok there?”

Bruce turned to her, smiling. “So far, so good.” 

“I love you but you’re not the best liar,” she chuckled, her fingers gently combing his hair. “Babe, if you want to leave, say the word and we’ll sneak out. We can go anywhere.” 

“Tempting,” he remarked, smirking. “Where do you propose we go?” 

She cocked her head back, shoulders shrugging. “Anywhere. We could literally get in a car and go anywhere we want.” She paused. “Anywhere you want.” 

Bruce’s body turned to face her, giving her his full undivided attention. She set her glass down on the railing. 

“While I think it’s sweet that you threw this for Harvey, I don’t want to be alone in a room with people I don’t know let alone give a shit about. I would rather be with you in the middle of nowhere where we don’t have to pretend we’re people that we’re not.”

His smile faltered, his eyes going to the ground. Demeteria shoulders tightened, fear creeping into her now uneasy stomach.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “What did I do?” 

He shook his head. “No, you did nothing wrong. It’s...” He sighed. “I never want to keep anything from you.” 

“What have you been keeping from me?” she questioned, her voice low 

He scanned the area as well as the inside of the ballroom. Realizing he wasn’t the safest, let alone most secure place, he leaned closer toward her. “I’ll go in the bedroom and grab a couple things. Go tell Alfred we’re heading out. We’ll meet at the elevator, alright?” 

“Bruce-.” 

He kissed her cheek and made his way inside. Bruce pushed through the crowd, fielding attempts of conversation from partygoers. She threw her hands up in defeat as an annoyed exhale left her mouth. 

“At least we’re leaving,” she muttered under her breath.

========================================================

In their bedroom, Bruce grabbed a set of keys for one of the cars from his safe in their closet. Realizing it was probably best to bring her anxiety med, he went into the medicine cabinet only to find it wasn’t there. 

He then remembered her saying she always kept it in the drawer in her nightside table. 

Figuring she put it back, he went over to it and opened the drawer and there it was. When he pulled it out, he noticed an envelope underneath with ‘For Batman’ written on it. 

He quickly glanced back at the door to make sure the door was closed. He then set down the bag and opened the envelope to find a handwritten letter.

My Night Friend ,

There’s something you need to know about that viral video of the copycat. 

I recognize the kitchen in the video. It’s the Fatted Calf on East 28th. A guy I briefly saw in college worked there and I hung out with him in the kitchen while he was closing up the shop. 

What people don’t know is that there’s a secret room. The guy told me the owner had it made to be used as a bomb shelter back in the day. It’s located right beside the freezer. If you can get into the boss’ office, there’s a special key inside a safe that can open the door. The Joker may be taking shelter in there. 

Take what you will with this information. I hope it serves you well.

Sincerely,

Your Rooftop Friend 

Bruce’s couldn’t believe what he was reading. His fiancé, the love of his life, was helping the Batman. The severity of the situation as well as time the huge piece of information made him realize he needed to get both of them out of the penthouse and into the Batcave. He could explain everything to her there. 

Shoving the letter into the bag, he zipped it up and made his way to the door when something on the security camera screen made him stop. 

It was The Joker followed by some henchmen. 

He threw the bag in the closet hurriedly, closing the door, and made his way to the party. Seeing Harvey Dent close by talking to Rachel, he figured he’d had enough time to get Harvey to safety and then grab Demetria. 

He came up behind Harvey, putting Harvey in a headlock as Rachel’s eyes widened in fear. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” she exclaimed. 

“They’re coming for him,” Bruce said, using his Batman voice. “Go grab her and get yourselves to safety.”

========================================================

Demetria spotted Alfred near the wall area. She made her way over, catching the old man’s attention. 

“There you Miss Gallagher,” he greeted. “Are you having fun?”

“I feel like a zoo animal. I’ve had more people stare at me than actually talk to me. Anyway, Bruce and I are heading out.” 

Alfred chuckled. “You and Master Wayne are a truly perfect fit.” 

She eyed the room before leaning closer toward Alfred. “Alfred, he said he had something he’d been meaning to tell me. Any idea what it could be?” 

Just then, the sound of a single gunshot silence the room. Everyone turned, including Demetria and Alfred, to see The Joker, the man from the video, enter the ballroom with his posse of men behind him wearing clown masks. 

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” he greeted in a sing-song voice. 

His posse pointed guns at the crowd, a silent order to step back. The crowd formed a circle around The Joker. 

Alfred, who was a few rows behind the crowd, stood in front of Demetria. 

“Stay behind me,” he whispered to her. 

She watched from behind his shoulder. 

The sound of tray hitting the ground, broke the silence. The Joker looked back for a moment before turning back to the crowd. 

“We are...tonight’s entertainment.” He grabbed a piece of shrimp from a table, stuffing it into his mouth. He looked around. “Only one question - where is Harvey Dent?”

He eyed around, pointing the gun at a group of women before ripping one of their glasses of champagne from their hands and taking a swig of it. He set back on the table and began questioning those he passed, occasionally grabbing at them. 

“You know where Harvey is? Do you know who he is?”

He squeezed one guy’s cheek. “Do you know where Harvey is? I need to talk to him about something. Something little.” 

He went up to an old white man. “You know I’ll settle for his loved ones.” 

Meanwhile, Demetria felt someone grab her hand. She turned to find Rachel. 

“We need to get you out of here,” Rachel whispered. 

Demetria went to follow Rachel when she felt someone grab her hand. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, sweetcheeks?” one of the masked men retorted. 

He grabbed Demetria, despite her attempts to break free. Her heart rate quickened, stomach growing weak as the man pushed her in front of the crowd. 

“Hey boss!” He called out. “It’s her!”

The Joker turned to her, his fixation on her making her blood run cold. She stood frozen and helpless. He got into her face. “So this is the future Mrs. Wayne. You’re also Harvey Dent’s best friend.” 

He grabbed Demetria’s face, cradling it forcefully. 

“Harvey is your best friend, isn’t he? Your buddy ol pal?” He let out a vicious cackle. “Possibly an old lover? An unrequited love? Either way, you’re somewhat of an asset to him.”

She moved her eyes, looking around as the crowd watched her in fear.

“C'mere, look at me.” 

She whimpered, closing her eyes. 

He tightened his grip on her hair “LOOK AT ME!” 

She yelped, opening her eyes as tears filled to the brim.

“Please,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh shh, shh, shh,” he hushed her teasingly. “Well you look upset.” He asked, pointing to scars on his mouth with his knife. “Is it these? Is it the scars? You wanna know how I got ‘em?”

She didn’t have time to answer, at least he didn’t bother to give her a chance to. She went to move her head when he grabbed her again. “Hey, look at me.”

She stopped moving, her eyes on him. “So, I had a wife, who was beautiful...like you, who tells me I worry too much, who tells me I oughta smile more, who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks.” 

She squirmed when The Joker pulled her back. “One day they carve her face. And we got no money for surgeries. She can't take it. I just want to see her smile again. Hmm? I just wanted to let her know that I don't care about the scars. So, I stick a razor in my mouth and do this to myself. ”

She squeaked, frightened as he put the knife to his scars. 

“And you know what? She can't stand the sight of me! She leaves! Now I see the funny side. Now, I'm always smiling!” 

He pulled her back, took the knife, and slashed her forearm, the sharp stinging, sensation causing her to let out a blood curdling scream.  She collapsed onto the ground, blood spilling down her arm and onto the marble floor. 

Demetria couldn’t move, her body frozen, mind unable to process what had just happened. She opened her mouth to speak, her chest stinging in pain and her head growing lightheaded as the Joker stepped on her bleeding arm.

“Please help me,” she begged in between her hyperventilating. “Please...I’m...I can’t...help!”

“Why doesn’t Harvey Dent come save his best friend?!” The Joker called out.

“Let her go!”

Rachel made her way. The Joker stomped on Demetria’s arm one last time.

Alfred rushed to her side. “Deep breaths, Miss,” he whispered. “Deep breaths.” 

“Alfred...I’m gonna....don’t let me...” 

“You’re going to be alright.” 

“Step back!” one of the masked henchman ordered, pointing a gun at Alfred. 

Alfred held up his hands stepping back from Demetria. The henchman walked away as Demetria continued to hyperventilate. 

She was going to die in front of everyone. Her vision became blurry, her breath uncontrollable. She watched in what she thought would be her final moments Batman attack The Joker. 

In and out of blackness, she heard glass shatter followed by footsteps. 

Tears strolled down her face as she struggled to breathe, trying to hold on to whatever breath she had left, her body shivering. Alfred rushed to her once again.

“Don’t just stand there!” he cried out. “Someone call a bloody ambulance!” 

He gave Demetria his hand, which she held onto tightly. 

“Stay with me,” he told her. “Stay with me.” 

But she wasn’t sure how long she could last. Between the chest pains and the pains from her wound and the light-headedness, she was barely holding on. 

How badly she wanted to see Bruce....and how could he leave her like this?

__________________________________________________________________

Dress: 

Hair/Makeup:

#bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne imagine #batman #batman imagine #batman fanfic #the dark knight #the dark knight fanfiction #the joker #christian bale #christian bale x reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bale!batman

[archadianskies]

croissant aux amandes

→ on Ao3

@dbhrarepairs​ Saturday Day 6: Meet the Family •  Reverse AU; Mob AU RK900/Simon

Ronan supposes he should be thankful his mother is keeping this particular meeting just between them. He’d rather be uncomfortable in private than openly humiliated though he thinks there’s a degree of humiliation regardless.

“We could do with a connection to the DPD,” Amanda swipes up on her tablet and the screen fills with a detailed profile. “Gavin Reed, former detective, freshly made Lieutenant as of two months ago. Negligible age gap, questionable morals but gets the job done. He likes cats, which is in your favour.”

“With all due respect, mother,” Ronan makes a face, “I’d rather be disowned.”

“Duly noted,” she nods, swiping a new profile onto the screen. “David Allen is your senior by thirteen years, Captain of SWAT Unit 32 and wields immense influence. His team is loyal to him, and he is known to be a kind, honorable man. He likes dogs which isn’t to your favour, though he is not against cats.”

Ronan studies the profile for a few moments- it wouldn’t be a bad match but it still didn’t feel right. “Perhaps in another life?”

“I will put Captain Allen as a ‘maybe’,” Amanda notes. “If not the DPD, then we could accept Carl Manfred’s offer.” The screen populates with a new profile, lengthier and more detailed. “Markus Manfred is an excellent candidate: no age gap, powerful family, powerful connections. Kind, thoughtful, charitable, and very well educated. Not sure where he stands about cats, but he’d be cordial about it I’m sure.”

“I find the older brother far more tolerable company,” Ronan scoffs, turning away.

“Leo?” Amanda says incredulously. “Leo Manfred has nothing to offer, that son squandered his inheritance and spent half a decade high on red ice, disgracing his family.”

“He’s gotten clean and is redeeming himself. He’d be a far better companion than his pretentious, insufferable -”

“Enough,” his mother commands, and Ronan cuts himself off. “There is of course Elijah Kamski, since he is unmarried and of similar age to his cousin Reed. We already have the Kamski connection through your brother, though.”

He tries again. “Are they the only options?”

“They are the best options we have researched,” Amanda turns the screen off. “There are female candidates as a backup but you said you prefer men so these are the male candidates. The gender is of course irrelevant; your fiance must be the one who brings the most to the table.”

“Mother,” Ronan sighs miserably, and Amanda sits beside him. She rests her hand over his, and knowing she is not an overly physically affectionate person only makes the gesture more meaningful. 

“You have submitted no candidates yourself, Ronan, these men are just the ones my team have found,” she reminds him carefully. “I want you to be happy with your choice, whether it be genuine affection, or an amicable arrangement like your brother.”

He knows it could be worse. He knows she could force an arrangement and there would be nothing he could do about it. The Stern family controls this city and it isn’t out of character for his mother to want an advantageous match now he’s turned thirty and declared no intentions to marry yet. It is a kindness, doing all this for him when he has been dragging his feet the past year, knowing this was to come. 

“I can postpone the luncheon, if you would like more time,” she says gently, squeezing his hand. 

“I’ll have an answer by then, I promise,” Ronan vows, because he does not want to disappoint her and delaying it will only prolong this particular brand of suffering. 

 *

Connor finds him under his favourite tree by the pond, and Ronan scoots over to make room on the blanket.

“That bad huh?” His older brother teases, though his smile is apologetic.

“It wasn’t...bad,” he concedes with a wince, “just awkward. And uncomfortable. She suggested Reed at the DPD.”

“Oh, yikes!” Connor laughs and Ronan manages a brief smile. His expression softens as he shifts to wrap an arm around Ronan’s shoulders. “Hey, it doesn’t have to be The One, you know? I don’t- I’m not... inclined romantically or sexually. Chloe is a wonderful friend, and I treasure her company. Our marriage provides her power and influence and security, and safety to nurture her relationship with North under the guise of a bodyguard.”

“You are...happy?” Ronan asks curiously, and Connor smiles.

“I’m very happy,” he nods. “It might not be romantic love, but there’s love in our friendship. You can have that too, brother, if you want.”

 *

It’s a lot to think about. It’s too much to think about, really, and so after too many hours of being stuck in his own head, Ronan escapes to his favourite spot in the whole city: Jericho. 

The cafe is somehow in the heart of town but so hidden it feels like stepping into an entirely different world, and he’s been escaping to its bare brick walls and cosy interior for years now. It’s owned by the Lambert twins, Daniel and Simon. Though the older twin is abrasive and curt, the younger is shy and gentle and always has time for Ronan.

“You look like you’ve had quite the day,” Simon laughs, already reaching for a mug and starting to make him coffee. “Take a seat, I saved an almond croissant for you.”

“You’re an angel, thank you,” Ronan takes the corner booth and watches as Simon goes through the familiar, well practiced motions. It’s close to closing and there’s only one other patron, so Simon decides to sit opposite him with his own mug of coffee.

“What’s got you looking like you’re carrying the whole world on your shoulders, hm?” The blond prods, and Ronan delays answering in favour of sipping the perfectly brewed mug of coffee in his hands. 

“My mother was being a little...overbearing this morning,” Ronan says hesitantly, leaving out the big details. “With the best of intentions, of course. She means well, but I still feel like I’m being slowly backed into a corner.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that, it must be difficult,” Simon frowns empathetically, earnestly, because he is a good and kind friend. Ronan thinks if he weren’t the son of a crime family, he would marry Simon. 

They would have a soft, quiet life full of love and be entirely uneventful and Ronan would manage the business side of things for the cafe so Simon would never have to worry. Maybe they could adopt a cat or two. He wouldn’t even mind a dog, honestly. He’s partial to german shepherds. 

But that’s never going to happen, and it’s with a sinking feeling Ronan realises once he marries he may have to cut ties with Simon completely as he takes on more and more of their family’s work in the criminal underworld. 

“I… am to be married,” he says no louder than a whisper but Simon hears it, Simon’s lovely blue eyes widen at those words. “Well, in the future I mean. My mother is trying to matchmake me with- with certain friends’ sons.”

“In 2038?” Simon asks in disbelief. “Your mother is trying to matchmake you in the year 2038?”

“She means well,” Ronan repeats, sighing tiredly. “She just wants me to marry ‘the one who brings the most to the table’.” He echoes her words with the same regal air and Simon laughs though not unkindly.

“Sounds intense.”

“I have a luncheon next weekend with all of our extended family and friends, and she expects me to announce an answer then.” He picks at the almond croissant, and it’s as perfect as always- buttery, flaky and fresh. The layers are light, the almond slivers paper thin, and the sweetness just right. It feels like a last supper, knowing he probably won’t be able to return. He’d never want to drag Simon into his world of blood. 

 *~*

Danny arrives in time to help him sweep and mop up. His brother is a warm, comforting presence in his peripheral, and Simon soaks it up like warmth from a blanket.

“Saw one of those supervillain black cars the Sterns use on the way here, was it Ronan again?” Danny asks as they’re putting the mops away. “You know he’s getting engaged next weekend, right?”

“How did you know that?” Simon blinks in surprise as he hangs up his apron.

“Leo told me,” Danny shrugs. “The old man said he’s pushing for Markus to marry him.”

“Oh,” Simon tries not to sound so disappointed, and he’s not even sure what for- that Markus is to be married, or that Ronan is the one marrying him. 

“Yeah, I know right? Ugh, gross,” his twin makes a disgusted face. “Poor Ronan, imagine having to marry Mr Perfect and run the criminal underworld.”

“They’re a respectable family!” Simon argues, feeling a twinge of indignant anger on Ronan’s behalf. “The Sterns have transformed the educational landscape of the city- Kara was able to open a kindergarten because of their philanthropy! Imagine having that influence- I’d- I’d completely revamp child services and open shelters and proper mental health centers for abused children and adolescents. I’d make sure no one ever had to go through what we went through.”

“You sweet sweet child,” Danny snorts back a laugh, though it isn’t mocking in the least. “They’re a necessary evil for this city because the senator is an incompetent but dangerous fuckwit. Don’t get me wrong, I like them- they get things done. It’s just the thought of the Manfreds joining that circle that gives me bad indigestion.”

“Markus Manfred is- he’s an amazing man, Danny. Ronan and he would be perfectly matched,” Simon chews his lip, feeling his chest ache. “He certainly would bring the most to the table.”

“What?”

“Oh, it’s just something Ronan said,” Simon flashes an apologetic smile. “He said he has to marry ‘the one who brings the most to the table’.”

“Brings the most to the table ,” Danny repeats, stressing the start and end of the sentence. Simon looks at him, eyes wide. “You don’t think-”

“Oh I do think,” his brother’s grin falters slightly, “But only if you want to, Simon. It’s a pretty crazy idea and uh, we might mysteriously disappear only for our bodies to be found in an underpass somewhere in a couple of weeks.”

It’s a ridiculously crazy idea, Simon knows this for a fact, but it’s so crazy it might just work.

* 

The Stern estate is beautiful, even from the other side of the huge wrought-iron gates. 

“You boys must be lost,” a guard drawls, sauntering over to the driver’s side. “Best you head back down the driveway and forget you ever came this way.”

“We're catering for the luncheon you dumbass,” Danny rolls his eyes. “So best you step aside and let us through so we can set up.”

The guard falters, frowning heavily. “There’s no mention of-” he looks at the side of the delivery van, “Jericho Cafe on the guest list.”

“Because we’re not guests,” Simon tries to mimic Danny’s impatient, snappy tone. “We’re catering for the guests.”

“Hey, listen, honest mistake,” Danny shakes his head. “No harm done. Let us in and we’ll do our job and you can do yours.”

“I-I’ll run it by the boss,” the guard fumbles for his phone.

“Ask Ronan,” Simon says firmly. “He’s the one who booked us, not- not the boss.”

The stretch of time as they wait for an answer feels like an eternity, like Simon is awaiting sentencing where the outcome could very well be execution. Is he signing his own hit? Is dragging his twin into this the worst mistake of his life?

“Alright, sorry about that,” the guard apologises, pocketing his phone and waving at someone up ahead. The gates part, and Simon doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or even more fear. “Go on through, the service entrance is on the right-hand side.”

“Thanks buddy,” Danny salutes lazily before driving through the now opened gates. He’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white.

“Danny-”

“No, shut up, we’re doing this. He ran it by Ronan and Ronan okayed us to come through,” Danny exhales slowly as he brings the van to the service entrance. A couple of confused kitchen staff come out to see them. 

“Alright,” Simon swallows thickly. “We’re doing this.”

* 

They unload and designate whole delivery trays laden with baked goods to be carried by the staff. Simon leads the way, trying to will his hands not to shake as he carries the feast he and Danny spent all yesterday prepping for, and all this morning from the crack of dawn baking so it would be as fresh as fresh can be for this very moment. 

He enters the dining room and there is Amanda Stern, matriarch of the Stern family. There is Ronan Stern, handsome as can be in a sharp tailored suit, and beside him are a couple- his brother Connor Stern, given the resemblance, and a lovely blonde lady in a periwinkle blue dress.

“Simon-”

“Madam, I have come to ask for your son’s hand in marriage,” Simon commends his voice for not trembling as he sets down the tray on the long dining table. Behind him, Daniel places his tray down and soon the staff follow, more and more until the table is absolutely brimming with food. “This is what I bring to the table.”

Amanda looks at him, expression unreadable and Simon thinks oh, he’s absolutely about to be executed. “You’re the Lambert boy,” she looks him over as if taking him apart atom by atom. “That cafe in Capitol Park.” “Yes ma’am,” Simon nods, clasping his hands behind his back so she won’t see how badly he’s shaking now he isn’t holding anything. She turns her eyes to the spread on the table.

“What is Ronan’s favourite?”

“The almond croissants,” Simon answers immediately, gesturing at them. Amanda nods and he picks one up using a pair of tongs, serving it to her on one of the bread plates. He risks a glance at Ronan who still seems frozen in shock, and it’s as if everyone is waiting with baited breath as Amanda bites into the croissant. Chewing thoughtfully, she sets the plate down and looks over at him. 

“I prefer blueberry danishes, but I can see why he likes these,” she’s smiling now, an amused matronly smile. “Is he your chosen fiance, Ronan?”

“If he would have me,” Ronan replies softly, reaching for Simon’s hands. “If a life with me is what he wants.”

“Yes,” Simon smiles, “I do.”

~*~*~

{ Inspired by [this tumblr post] about the intricacies and formalities of the 'Bride Price'.}

#rk900 #simon pl600 #daniel pl600 #detroit: become human #amanda stern #connor rk800 #dbhrarepairsweek #simon900 #annie writes: dbh