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#and finished it only now when someones harass people over a ship. AGAIN.

edalynn · 2 years

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i just want the show to finish airing already man. i am tired of people calling hunter and/or willow straight on tiktok and erasing lgbt identities. i am tired of the harassment i see people get for literally anything. this fandom used to be so fun but now it feels like you’re on landmines of being harassed or accused of the most horrendous shit if you just. aren’t in the echo chamber. i loved this show and now i’m just tired and frustrated thinking about it. i want people to move on and stop.

YEAH i'm kinda in the same boat rn. Like I just want it to end, but TOH is too ingrained in my identity at this point to actually end up disliking it, which makes the whole hunt/low bs even harder. Tiktok was a mistake. The lowest point in human history. I will say it's never been said, but it is clear through visuals and implications that Hunter is bi. Also I said he was bi a year and a half ago and I am always right, so clearly /j. I'm just. So fucking sick and tired of straight people. This show isn't for you. Like please, enjoy it, watch it, give it views, but also know your fucking place and when to sit down and shut the fuck up. But when have straights ever known that. Willow at least has never had anything said about her sexuality other than her only being shown blushing at girls in S1, which would imply imo that no matter what she's not straight. But again, she's never been said to be either straight or queer or really actually have any interest in anyone romantically in general (aroace Willow please, thanks). I really am sick of seeing my friends be harrassed for disliking h/l and I'm tired of seeing h/ls say with total confidence that their ship is canon when it's not. But I'm really, really sick of seeing h/ls going fucking rabid on nonshippers, claiming any type of "x"-phobic they can to "prove" you're some type of bigot by not shipping them. They biphobic asks I got were kina funny at first because they were just so batshit off the wall and insane to me, but I keep getting them saying the same thing over and over and it's like. You can just stop. You can just drop it. You're making yourself and every other person that ships hunt/low looks stupid (not hard to do) and you're devaluing the actual problem of biphobia by crying wolf just because someone doesn't like your awful ship. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of seeing huntlow and im sick of the fucking shippers being such fucking aggressors

#taako talks #toh #the owl house #asks #anons #huntl0w negative

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 2 years

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Hi BMT ! How are you ?

What I wanted to talk about was how this fandom just makes theories up and just spread it as if it was a fact ? When I first got into BTS late 2019, I saw all these fans spreading the theory that Jungkook’s army + J tattoo was meant for all the members as if it was a fact Jungkook stated himself and I remember thinking, wtf are these people talking about and why do I have to go through mental gymnastics to figure out which letters represent which member and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why Jungkook, someone I consider as a clever and intelligent person, mixed their stage and real names ? And I questioned so many army back then about where they got this information from, where Jungkook might have said it and no one could give me an answer. It’s honestly scary how one individual makes shit up and people just go with it and a very few actually take the time to think about the things that are said instead of just blindly following the mass. I personally saw the tattoo as ARMY + JM and at the time I wasn’t even aware of ships or whatever. I also find it a little weird and boring how everything a duo in the group does (one specifically) becomes or gets turned into a Ot7 moment. I personally think that brotherhood kumbaya OT7 agenda gets pushed way too far and it honestly sometimes makes things not as enjoyable to me. I can obviously see that the 7 of them are really great friends, it’s just that this fandom makes sure any new fan that shows interest in the band must be aware that they’re BROTHERS and a family and my favorite (not), how Jungkook was raised by his members as if he doesn’t have parents and a biological brother as well. Sorry this is probably all over the place but after finding your blog I finally feel like I can express the frustration that I might be feeling towards this fandom without being harassed or called an OT7 anti.

Have a great day!!

Hey, anon! I'm good, I just finished watching Joel Kim Booster's Netflix special, Psychosexual, and now I'm back for some late night blogging 😊

Isn't it crazy how fan theories just become facts in the fandom? And so many people are not even questioning it. And what's worse is that, just as you said, they spread it for new fans when they try to "educate them". Twitter for example or tiktok are platforms that have a major contribution to disinformation. I see it all the time. They don't fact check, even if it's something quite simple that can be easily resolved with a basic google search. Instead they ask other users and if one says it's like that or someone/something is problematic, they just take it as it is and go with it. Laziness and a lack of patience. Residents of social media who don't know how to use the internet outside of their go-to platforms are guilty of this behavior. And once a theory gets picked up, especially if it serves the fans' desires, then they embrace without question. And that's how the word army became also the bts members' initials, despite not making any sense.

I am also with you about the central narrative of Jungkook being raised by the rest of BTS. Of course the people with whom he lived so closely had had an influence on him, but it's not the end of it all. He has his biological family, he has other friends and people in his life. Jungkook did not grew up isolated with only 6 other men, despite the fandom trying to portray it like that. Of course it's a result of mostly seeing Jungkook with them in the past 10 years, but who in their right mind would believe he is mostly a product of sharing experiences with his bandmates? And last but not least, he is his own person, he's not just made up of an amalgam of other people's influence on him. How is this something that needs to be explained? That's not how life works and our relationship with other people and our own self. Once again, I believe this happens because fans look at it as if this is a story with characters and they forget that real life doesn't work like that.

#bmt asks #bts fandom #bts fandom theory #bts fandom behavior #jungkook #jungkook army tattoo

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httpjeon · 3 years

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heajix ― jungkook (m.)

jungkook/reader | alien!au | angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 13.1k

contents: violence, blood, stabbing, minor character death, murder, mentions of mass genocide, knotting, breeding kink/impreg kink, light size kink, dirty talk, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, begging, multiple orgasms, light cumflation, cum eating, cum sharing

― synopsis: you find yourself on palacios, home to the sehebon. unfortunately, it’s not by choice and you quickly realize how deadly the planet is.

note: heajix is pronounced hay-jicks

blog masterlist ― made of stardust masterlist

You'd been traveling, backpacking to be precise, through Fanet IV System — the newest system to be open for interplanetary travel. While you were traveling and exploring the newly available system and planets you began experiencing extreme technical difficulties. You wound up having to make an emergency landing on the planet of perpetual night called Palacios, home of the Heajix — an obscure, secretive race small in population.

Unfortunately, the least developed planet hadn't taken too kindly to their status of open-for-visits and had seemingly gone into a global lockdown of some sort since it began.

The second you stepped off your craft, you began to cough. The pollution in the air and smog that you could see had you scrambling for the mask you'd been given ahead of your visit.

You were in the heart of the capital city, Yathe, and it was nothing like you'd expected. Instead of a bustling metropolis like on all the other planets — it was nothing but abandoned buildings and graffiti covered walls. There seemed to be limited electricity supplied as street lamps flickered on and off, though most didn't work. The ones that were flickering helped you navigate your way around regardless.

The place was basically lawless, from what you knew, and the citizens did what they wanted to for the most part.

Pulling your backpack over your shoulders, you began to make your way through a nearby residential area. The houses, if you could call them that, were dilapidated and run-down; some had broken windows and others were completely destroyed. The Heajix's native tongue was plastered all over the ruined buildings and, while you weren't fluent, were talking shit about the other planets.

Using the flashlight on your phone, and aided by the illumination of the moon, you managed to find yourself in front of a house. It was small and wooden, no doubt old. When you walked inside, you realized it was just a simple one-room house with an attached bathroom as the only other room.

It was a gamble to assume it was unoccupied but, you really didn't have any other choices since you really couldn't spend the night out on the street. Your communications were down and there was no cell service.

You sighed and stepped inside, wincing at the visible dust floating around the room — thankful for your mask. When you turned to lock the door, you were dismayed to find there was only a broken locking mechanism. Groaning, you banged your head against the door.

"Why does my life suck? This planet might actually kill me!" You grumbled to yourself.

You dropped your backpack on the floor, unraveling the sleeping bag that was attached at the bottom and dropping it in a suitable sleeping place. There was a window right beside the front door, large enough for you to clearly see outside and allowing the moonlight to drift in.

You placed your bag in the corner near your sleeping bag and sat down. It was soft and cushioned, helping you to not feel the hard, rough floor beneath. There was a pillow sewn into the sleeping bag which you laid your head on.

The trip had been long and grueling, taking a week to complete so sleep quickly caught up to you. As your eyes fluttered closed, just before darkness completely overtook you, you swear you saw someone moving in the window.

Waking up to no sunlight was definitely jarring and you quickly realized that your circadian rhythm was going to flip out. Regardless, you looked at the time and it was just past 9 in the morning so you stood up and stretched, intending to take a shower. Grabbing your backpack, you dragged it over to the bathroom. Toting the thing made you realize how heavy it was — you'd packed so much into it for the trip. It hit the floor with a clunk and you were briefly concerned it would break the wood floor beneath.

There was a shower — a rusted spigot and a broken hot water nozzle. You groaned, realizing how shitty your morning was about to be. You reached in, turning the nozzle. The pipes clanged loudly and made a high pitched wailing noise before spurting out water. Your jaw dropped open and you let out a cry of despair at the yellowed water.

After finishing your horrifying shower, 20 minutes of holding in shrieks from the cold polluted water, you sat on the floor in the main area by the window. You did notice that the moon was a lot brighter than it had been and provided more visibility. Pulling out your file from your backpack, you hunched over the floor to take note of the crummy conditions the planet lived in along with their lack of fresh, clean water.

It was a hobby of sorts, traveling through newly opened solar systems and journaling your stay on the planets.

Checking your phone, you noticed it was nearing noon and your stomach began to growl. You slipped your shoes on and put the mask back on your face before stepping out; hiding your belongings in the bathroom to make it seem like the house was empty should anyone come by.

When you stepped outside, you felt a shiver travel up your spine at the ominous atmosphere. It was completely silent, not a single soul in sight and it set you on edge. Pulling the hood of your hoodie up, you kept your head down as you began to walk towards the area where your ship had been parked.

Truth be told, it was quite common on planets of weaker economies for the Capital Planet to provide the citizen with rations.

There were other planets you'd seen them on, and as you walked through the smoggy city you were pleased to find a run-down building marked with a giant red symbol of Vulia — capital of Fanet IV.

The glass doors were smashed open and you easily stepped inside. It was dark and dusty with minimal light helping to guide you. Finally giving in, you turned your cell phone's flashlight on and began to look around.

The place was massive and you were shocked to see that the shelves were still lined with food. It wasn't abundant but it was clear not many people had been picking from the rations.

You grabbed some things from the shelf, realizing you should have brought your backpack. Most of the food was marked in foreign text but you didn’t care. You just needed food or else you wouldn’t survive long enough, on the planet, to even figure out how to get home.

You put some in your pockets and carried others in your hands as you swiftly left the building. Looking around, you felt like someone was watching you but the streets were pedestrian-free. In fact it was eerily empty — it was reminiscent of a ghost town. Strange considering it was the capital city of the planet.

Not wanting to risk getting into trouble, you hurried on your way the your ‘home’. Regretfully, as you shut the door, you remembered the door didn’t properly lock. You weren’t particularly handy enough to really fix it by yourself, unfortunately.

You saved as much food as you could in order to avoid having to go back out and quickly found yourself bored. Looking at the clock, you realized it was only about 2pm. There was no way you could go outside to find something to do. Aside from the fact you knew close to nothing about the planet, you also didn't feel safe out and about.

So you sat there, watching the hours tick by. Your phone battery was depleting and there was no way to charge it — the planet wasn’t quite equipped with outlets and electricity. Once it was dead you were going to be so fucked — no flashlight and no way to tell the time.

It was still early when you decided to roll out your sleeping bag and lay down. You spent a while simply staring at the walls and ceiling daydreaming.

As you lay there in your own world, out of the corner of your eye, something shifted in the darkness of your window.

You sat up quickly, turning your head to look but found nothing to see.

"Now I'm starting to hallucinate," You grumbled, laying back down and turning your back to the window.

You sighed when you woke back up, glancing at your phone indicated it'd only been a couple hours. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, your gaze shifted to the window once again.

Your breath caught in your chest when you could make out the shape of a person standing there — silhouetted against the moon's light.

You couldn't see their face but you knew they could see you, you could feel their gaze burning into you, as they brought their hand to the glass and tapped three times. You didn't breathe, eyes wide with fear you watched as their head tilted to the side. They lifted their hand up again, no doubt intending to knock again when they froze.

You swear you could hear muffled voices but it was so faint it was nearly impossible to be sure that's what you heard. The person's head snapped to the side, body going stiff.

Much to your horror, a second figure made an appearance from a few feet behind them.

All was still for a second before the first figure bolted and took off running. The second person stood there for a second and you were scared they were going to harass you as well. However, the person turned and walked in the opposite direction the other one ran.

With your sleeping bag pulled up to your eyes, you knew you weren't going to be falling asleep again.

When the morning came, you began trying to fix the lock — the night before having made you terrified for your safety. It was a simple type of latch and it took you hours to figure out a way to get it to work — with the help of a bobby pin and a spare pen you had in your bag.

It wasn't the best but it gave you a sense of peace of mind.

You hoped you'd be able to sleep.

Staring at the window, you sighed — maybe you could find something to cover it up when you grew the courage to go out again. You really needed to, having run out of rations and on your last bottle of water that you had collected.

Your phone was almost completely dead after you had been using it to light your work on the lock. The bar was red indicating a sad 18% power left.

The time was a bit past 5PM and you decided to go while it was still technically daytime. Once outside, you wanted to cry with how much you hated it.

Curse you and you terrible luck.

You could only hope that the signals for help you'd sent out would miraculously find their way to someone who could help you. There was also the possibility of you finding someone in Yathe who could help you — whenever you gained the courage to venture around and find help for yourself.

Until then, you'd just suffer by yourself.

You did the rounds again, this time you stuffed much more into your backpack — which you’d remembered to take. Every little creak and gust of wind caused you to jump, the image of that person standing at your window was still haunting you.

You were going to be severely out of luck soon; with no phone, no way to contact Earth or a nearby planet to get to for safety, along with the apparent stalkers hiding in the dark. With worries weighing heavily on your mind, you found yourself drifting into your thoughts. Anxiety riddled your being and you cursed yourself for not having been prepared for an event like the one you were in.

The only thing that pulled you from your thoughts were the heavy footsteps not far behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end and your hands began to tremble. Taking a glance over your shoulder, you saw a broad-shouldered individual meandering around behind you. With their hood pulled over their head, you couldn't see their face but you were sure it was a man.

When he noticed you looking, he picked up his pace intending to catch up to you. You held a whimper of fear in, speeding up your own pace.

His footsteps sped up again and you felt tears of fear pricking at your eyes — your house was right up ahead. You could get inside and lock him out.

Just before you reached your house, the footsteps stopped altogether. When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw the man talking to another person.

He had a friend.

You were in such deep shit.

Practically bolting to your house, you locked the door shut and placed your backpack in front of it — it was heavy and it wouldn't do much. Nonetheless, it helped you feel safe. You slid to the floor underneath the window, out of view.

Despite your fear, your stomach began to grumble with hunger. You chanced a peek out of the window and found there was not another soul in sight.

Your hands were shaking so bad it made it difficult to bring your drink safely to your lips. It took you an hour, according to your phone, to eat some of your food as you had kept drifting off into space.

A loud bang made your eyes shoot open, having fallen asleep against the wall with your knees to your chest. Drowsy, you looked around for the source of what woke you up.

Another bang and you saw your poorly locked door move with the weight of someone slamming against it. You scrambled backwards away from the door, eyes wide as tears pricked at them in fear.

There was nothing you could do as the lock gave and the door flew open. A man stood there, shoulders heaving as he glared at you. You could see only his eyes as his face was masked with scarf.

"Please..." You whispered, backing yourself into a corner.

"I knew you were a human," He growled, voice gruff and raw. "You know you're not welcome here."

"I-I..." Your mind blanked with any defense you could have made.

Just as he took another step forward, a second larger figured barreled through the open doorway. He was covered by an oversized black hoodie and black face mask. The heavy black boots on his feet added more to his height. You saw your life flash before your eyes and you just knew you were doomed.

"You—" The new man moved forward in the blink of an eye and had the other man jacked up against the wall by the front of his shirt.

"What did I tell you?" The second man asked, voice muffled by the full-face white mask he wore.

"Look—" The first man began but stopped when the second tightened his grip. "Fuck fine, I'll go."

The second man said nothing, simply letting the other go for him to run out the door. He sighed, shoulders relaxing as he turned to you.

You were frozen where you sat, his dark eyes, through the dark shadow his long bangs casted, doing nothing to quell your fear.

"What's your name?" He suddenly asked.

"_-_____," You muttered, not taking your eyes off him as he began to walk around your house. His boots thunked against the wood floors as he investigated whatever he saw.

"Well ______," He turned to you and sighed. "My name's Jungkook."

He crouched in front of you, the chain hanging on his jeans jingling when it met the floor, pulling the bands around his ears off and removed his mask.

It felt like the air was promptly knocked out of you. Even in the dark you could make out beautiful features on his face; wide, sparkling doe eyes with long curly bangs that hung in them. He had pretty, delicate lips with a small freckle beneath and a sharp jawline.

He was young and really good looking.

"N-Nice to meet you, Jungkook..." You stuttered.

He cocked his head to the side, fully sitting on the floor in front of you with his legs spread and arms resting on his knees. His dark eyes analyzed you, scanning over your features and body.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice portraying no identifiable emotion.

"I-I just found this e-empty house and—"

"No, I mean why are you here...on Palacios," He nibbled on his bottom lip as he stared at you.

"I um...I was traveling and had to make an emergency landing on the nearest planet," You explained.

"Why are you still here?" Jungkook's eyebrows were furrowed.

"My...my communications are down and Palacios doesn't have cell reception," You explained. "I attempted to send out an emergency beacon when I landed but there's no telling if it went through. And I've been too scared to try and make the trek back to see."

"It's probably been looted and dismantled by now for spare parts," He said, making you groan in despair.

"Are there any like...Embassy officials I can talk to? Government officials that can help me?" With every question, you felt your heart beginning to race with anxiety once more.

Jungkook's shoulders shrugged as he shook his head. "Do you not know anything about this place?"

"Only what's been released through the media," You replied honestly. "That you guys went into a lockdown or something."

"We don't...like outsiders here," He whispered before looking away. "There's no one who can help you. We're governless and we have no officials."

"Well how do you have laws a-and—"

"Does it look like we have laws, _____?" He snapped, making you flinch. "Look around. This isn't Earth. We don't have the luxury of being law-abiding citizens. We do what we have to to survive."

"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean—"

"Let's go," He cut you off again, standing up.

"Where?" You whispered, staring up at him.

"I said let's go," He growled, reaching down and grabbing your elbow. You whined when he aggressively jerked you to your feet, ignoring the painful grip he had on you.

"Wait! My things!" You complained, trying to break out of his harsh grip.

Jungkook growled, snatching up your backpack and tossing it over his shoulder.

"My sleeping bag..."

"You don't need it," He grumbled, yanking you out of the broken doorway.

As you walked, you noticed he tugged his mask back on — hiding his face. To your surprise, he pulled you only a few houses down from the one you had been in. He pulled out a key ring from the belt loops on his jeans and slid a key in the lock.

The house was still fairy dilapidated but it had clearly been renovated and fixed up to suit his needs. He hastily slammed the door behind him and locked the three locks that were there — a knob lock, deadbolt, and a simple latch lock like the one in the place you’d been hiding in.

The house was a bit bigger than the one you'd been in — it had an actual bedroom. All except a single window towards the back of the house and a window you could see in the bedroom were boarded up. Jungkook dropped your belongings on the floor with a thud and dropped to sit on the tattered couch in the living area.

"Um..." You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching as he removed his mask again and tossed it away. His eyes cut to you and he raised a brow in question. "Why am I here?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, closing his eyes as he laid his head on the back of the couch.

"I mean...at your house, why...am I in your house?"

He chuckled at your question and you bit your lip at the sight of his crooked smirk. "Well, you were nearly killed over there. Did you want to spend your night there?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Look," He sat up and sighed. "There was no way you could survive on your own in this place. Actual Heajix can barely survive. So, I'm doing you a favor and helping you out, okay? The least you could say is thank you."

"I...thank you." It came out more as a question and Jungkook scoffed.

"You can sleep here," He mumbled, getting to his feet and stalking past you to his room. As he passed you, a sweet smell, delicate scent wafted off of him and you couldn’t help but inhale. It was nice.

You felt around your pockets and realized you had left your phone behind. You whined as you sat down on the couch, not willing to ask Jungkook to go and retrieve it for you. Jungkook's door clicked shut and you were left alone and in silence. It was dark, the moonlight from the back window barely reaching where you were sitting.

You curled up, shivering at the cool draft and your lack of a blanket. Closing your eyes, you hoped for sleep to overtake you.

Soft footsteps moved around you and your eyes fluttered open. Jungkook stood in the kitchenette, shuffling with something on a plate. Sitting up, you winced at how sore your muscles were from curled up on the small space all night. Your neck felt stiff and hurt when you moved it a certain way.

"Um what time is it?" You asked, voice groggy from sleep.

"I don't know," He replied, not looking at you.

"What do you mean you don't know?" You asked.

He turned around, carrying a plate over to the coffee table and placing it down. He was wearing a loose white sweater and sweatpants, long curly hair messy and hanging in his eyes. "I mean...we don't exactly have a concept of time anymore. There aren't really functioning clocks so we all just...run on our own schedules."

"I see..." You watched him pick at some food on the plate and pop it in his mouth. It looked like some kind of diced meat. "What is this?"

"Food," He replied shortly, not offering any other information even as you glared at him. "Eat before you die of starvation."

You sighed but couldn't deny the hunger pains in your stomach. Albeit suspiciously, you took a piece of meat and popped it in your mouth. You hummed, finding nothing strange tasting about it — it tasted similar to ham.

The two of you finished it together and he leaned back on the couch with a groan, patting his stomach. You sat in silence, listening to the wind blowing outside.

"It's probably going to storm soon," He muttered suddenly, eyes drifting towards the window.

You hummed in response, picking at a thread around a hole in your jeans. You weren’t sure how to reply to him, truthfully his tough attitude and mannerisms intimidated you. The last thing you wanted to do was make him mad enough to kick you out and it seemed like he had a bit of a short fuse.

"Do you want a shower?" He suddenly asked, making you jump.

"Um...yeah I guess," You dreaded taking another shower in the filthy water but it’d give you a chance to be away from him and relax a bit.

Jungkook led you to the bathroom and you were surprised by how well maintained it was. He grabbed a towel from a shelf on the wall and tossed it to you. Then without uttering another word, he shut the door and left you alone.

You were pleased to see a hot water handle and eagerly turned it. Then, much to your surprise, the water came out perfectly clean and clear. Without wasting a second, you eagerly stripped and stepped under the warm shower.

It felt like you were in there for ages, having to use some soap Jungkook had to clean yourself. You hoped he didn't mind, though it smelled very good.

When you stepped out, you felt fresher and you were surprised to see new clothes on the countertop.

He had come in while you were shower.

Your face burned hot, hoping he hadn't looked. Throwing on the clothes, you hummed at how clean and nice you felt for the first time since being on the planet. When you walked out of the bathroom, Jungkook was sitting on the couch with his eyes closed and arms over his chest like he was napping.

"H-How did you have clean water?" You asked, taking a seat beside him.

You heard him inhale and felt his body tense. For a second you thought he was going to yell at you, but instead he opened his eyes to look at you. "I hooked all my piping to a private water reservoir that continuously purifies the water."

"That's...impressive," You whispered. "How'd you learn to do that?"

He shrugged. "Took a lot of testing, trial and error with the purification. But my parents were mechanical engineers in Zlathe."

"Zlathe?" You asked.

"It was another city a long time ago," He replied, running a hand through his hair revealing his forehead.

"...Was? What do you mean?" You sat up straighter and he sighed.

"Before everything fell, Zlathe was a neighboring city even bigger than Yathe," He explained.

"I don't understand," You muttered. "What do you mean everything fell?"

"You really are ignorant," He chuckled, though it held no mirth. You couldn’t find it in you to be offended because it was true; but no one outside knew anything about the planet.

"Well it's not my fault your planet is a secret," You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

"We were less developed than everyone...the other planets," His voice held nothing but spite as he spat out the words. "Palacios is the smallest and collectively they all decided, even as we rejected the idea, to create landfills here to dispose of their waste so their own planets didn't become a mess."

"So...that's what caused the pollution?" You asked.

He nodded. "The more toxic the air became, the more sick people became. Those who were able to leave did and those who couldn't were trapped. All of our government leaders left us without a word. Everything went to complete chaos."

"That's horrible! They just abandoned their citizens?" You gasped, eyes wide with shock.

"One by one the cities became desolate. Yathe is, from what we know, the only standing safe city. When the population became crammed into this last safezone those fucking Vorderans swept in and raided every nook and cranny they could. We went from 500,000 people to a mere maybe...20,000?"

"Vorderans?" You hummed. "The people of Vulia? Capital Planet for Fanet IV? Why did they do that?"

Jungkook scoffed. "Why would I tell you? So you can report it back to the Humans and they can take what's left of an already dying people? We're a doomed species — pushed to the brink of extinction over greed and classicism. Why do you think we kill any outside official that comes here, huh?"

"W-We just...everyone just said Heajix were very...private," You muttered, a little startled by his aggressive attitude.

"Yeah they would," He spat. "They don't want to have to explain the complete genocide and decimation of a planet they spearheaded."

"Did you say kill?" You suddenly whispered, brain catching up to what he’d previous confessed.

"Of course, any foreign person who comes to us...after we warned the Embassy to leave us alone...they sign their own death warrant," He said, absolutely no remorse in his voice.

"Is that why that guy broke in?" You asked, which he nodded at.

"Yeah, you were targeted by him even though it wasn't even discussed," When he heard you hum in confusion. "We may not have people in high positions telling us what to do but we do maintain some order. Any foreign person who comes here is watched and if they're deemed a threat we take them out. So far...every person has proved themselves to be so. But you...we hadn't caught you doing anything other than trying to survive and hide so we voted to leave you alone."

"So why did that guy—"

"He went off the deep end I guess, didn't trust you and wanted to take you out on his own terms to be safe. He'll be punished and dealt with appropriately," He said, pulling his sleeves of his sweatshirt up to show a wide expanse of tattoos written in a foreign text. "All criminals after punishment are made to have a tattoo on their skin detailing the nature and severity of the crime. It's kind of like a way to shame us for behaving that way. It’s a little piece of our culture we’ve maintained even after the fall."

You leaned closer, looking over the intricate text that was displayed. He had a handful from what you could tell.

"I take it you're not going to tell me what your crimes are?" You asked, unsurprised when he yanked his sleeve down harshly.

"What the hell happened to your arm?" He suddenly asked, changing the subject, eyes pinned to your arm.

When you looked down to follow his gaze, you were shocked to see a nasty purpling bruise around your elbow.

"I have no idea," You muttered. However, he grabbed your wrist and you gasped, attempting to yank yourself away. "That hurts, you know! Jeez, why are you so rough?"

"Rough?" He scoffed. "I'm barely even touching you!"

"Well, you've got a twisted concept of gentle," You muttered, rubbing your now sore wrist. "Oh."

"What?" He grumbled, pouting at having been chewed out by you.

"It's where you grabbed me yesterday," You muttered. "Jeez I knew you were rough but..."

"I wasn't that rough..." At the tone of his voice, you looked up and saw him frowning. He lightly ran his fingers over the bruise. "I didn't meant to hurt you."

"I..." You were shocked by how upset he seemed over it, showing actual concern. "It's okay...it'll heal. J-Just be more careful next time, okay?"

"I didn't realize how easy you are to hurt," He muttered, still staring at your bruise. "You're a delicate race, huh? I'll be more careful, I promise."

You smiled at him and nodded. His lips twitched upward in his own smile and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

The following day, Jungkook stood before you with a backpack on his shoulders. His mask was in place and he looked at you where you sat on his couch.

"When I leave, lock the door behind me," He ordered you, watching as you quickly nodded your head. "And don't open up until you're sure it's me, got it?"

"Got it," You replied, feeling anxious over the situation.

His boots stomped against the floor as he walked to the door, casting one strong glance at you over his shoulder before walking out and slamming it shut. You quickly raced over and slid the latch lock in place and twisted the deadbolt while he locked the knob. Left alone in the silence, you felt extremely uncomfortable.

You looked around, eyes falling on the door to Jungkook's bedroom. Debating for a moment, you decided he'd probably be gone long enough for you to have a peek.

Pushing the door open, you were pleased at how nice it smelled — Jungkook's clean scent permeating from every inch.

As you stepped inside, you noticed a pile of old, worn books in one corner. He had a table beside his bed with a picture frame on it. Taking a seat on his mattress, you grabbed the frame and examined it. There was a picture of Jungkook, albeit a bit younger, standing with a man and woman on either side of him and behind him a taller man who looked similar to Jungkook.

You opened the drawer of his table, having to pull hard as it seemed to be off the track. It was empty inside aside from a paper you couldn't read and a bottle of lotion. Humming, you simply pushed the drawer back closed and looked around the room some more.

Deciding there was nothing else worth looking at, you stepped out of his room and shut the door. Boredom struck immediately and you dropped down onto the couch and curled up.

The least you could do is take a nap.

Your rest didn't last long because you were startled awake by violent knocks on the door. From outside, you could hear Jungkook calling your name. Jumping to your feet, you scrambled to unlock the door and let him in. He sounded so panicked that your hands were shaking by the time you slid the latch lock open.

Jungkook burst in the second the door was open and promptly fell to the ground with a groan. You shut the door and shakily locked it again before turning to him.

"J-Jungkook? What happened?" You crouched down and helped him pull his backpack off.

He winced, making a hissing noise the second he was made to move. You gasped, noticing the way that he was holding his side — red seeping through his fingers.

"Oh my god, what happened?!" You cried, hands hovering above him not knowing what to do.

"J-Just a stupid accident," He groaned, the back of his head hitting the floor harshly when he tossed it back. The impact didn’t seem to bother him. "Was chasin' some animal and I fell. Caught myself on some scrap metal on the way down."

"Holy crap, how bad is it?" You urged him to move his hand so you could see his wound.

The metal had torn a hole in his shirt and you could see a deep gash across his ribs. There was blood gushing from it and you were worried about the possibility of infection.

"It needs to be cleaned and probably stitched, Jungkook," You muttered, watching him put his hand back over it to slow the bleeding.

"I don't have t-to clean it or stitch it," His eyebrows were drawn together and his jaw was clenched in pain.

"I have a first aid kit in my backpack," You stood up quickly, ignoring his protests, dashing over to where your backpack was leaning against the wall.

Zipping it open, you began to fish through your belongings searching for the little white box. You pulled out a towel, deciding it might be good to help clean him up some. You made a soft sound when you finally spotted the kit, pulling it out and holding it up in triumph.

Sitting beside Jungkook again, you helped him remove his shirt. There were a few tattoos and scars scattered along his chest and abdomen but you didn't have time to ogle at his naked body. You pressed the spare towel against his wound and apologized as he hissed in pain. His hand was covered red in blood — some of it having dripped down his wrist to his elbow. You noticed that his mask was gone as well.

"Okay, I'm going to put some antiseptic on it alright?" You asked, pulling the towel off slightly. "It's going to burn like...really bad but—"

"Just do it," He groaned. "Nothing can top this pain right now."

You sighed and ripped open an alcohol wipe. The second it touched the wound, Jungkook's entire body jerked and he let out a sharp word in his mother tongue that you assumed was a cuss. In another situation, you would have laughed at the reaction. Next, you cleaned it with some hydrogen peroxide, making sure to flush the wound as best you could.

"Wh-Where did you learn to do this?" He asked, voice tight with pain.

"Well...I have just basic knowledge from things I've seen on like TV and..stuff like that. So I don't actually know if I'm doing it right or not," You whispered. "But the point is it's getting cleaned, right?"

"Shit, I guess you're right," He mumbled, eyes focused on the ceiling above him.

"I-It's still bleeding, it really will need stitches...it's so deep," You whispered, watching as blood continued to seep through.

"Can you do it?" He asked.

"I don't know...the only thing we can do is try, right?" You were lucky you had a full first aid kit, complete with a sterile needle and thread.

It was quite dark and you had to lean close to see the edges of the wound. You took it slow, apologizing to Jungkook whenever the needle pierced the torn skin. Little by little, the wound was closed until you managed to tie a tight knot to ensure the stitches wouldn't open back up.

Sitting back, you let out a sigh of relief. "I have some pain medicine," You said, taking out a few tablets of Ibuprofen from the first aid kit.

"Thanks," He popped them in his mouth, wincing as he had to swallow them dry.

Then was a big sigh, his body finally relaxed against the floor. He blinked slowly, as if he was struggling to stay awake. You assumed his adrenaline rush crashed and he was growing tired — no doubt exhausted from the adrenaline crash.

"This is insane," He mumbled suddenly, voice sounding slurred.

"What is?" You questioned.

"Before I would just think of getting myself home safe and that'd be the end of it," His lashes fluttered as he fought the sleep that threatened to overtake him. "But this time...all I could think was that I had to get back to you so you would be safe. Unbelievable."

You couldn't help but smile, though he missed it as his eyes finally closed. In a matter of moments, his breathing evened out and you knew he fell asleep.

Right on the floor.

Chuckling, you shook your head and wandered to his bedroom to pull the blanket off his bed — just a thin throw blanket and one of his pillows. You returned to him and carefully, doing your best not to wake him, placed the pillow beneath his head and the blanket over his body.

Your own exhaustion seemed to catch up to you and you curled up on the couch, your own eyes shutting as you stared at Jungkook's sleeping form.

When you woke up, it was on your own. You saw Jungkook was still asleep and sighed. Quickly pulling yourself up, you wandered over to him. Sitting down, you peeled the blanket off of him. You moved his arm off his chest so you could look at his wound but you let out a harsh gasp at what you saw. Jungkook's eyes immediately popped open and sharply turned to look at you.

"What is it?" He asked, body relaxing when he realized it was just you.

"Y-Your wound..." You leaned down to get a closer look, looking at your uneven stitching over the red skin.

"What about it?" He hummed, looking down to take a look at himself.

"It's healed up..." Beneath the stitches, the skin was still reddened but there was no sign of the open wound that was once there. Just a puffy looking scar was left in its wake.

"Oh good," He sat up and stretched his arms — his joints popping at the action, making him groan. "Hand me my backpack, yeah?"

"What do you mean good?! Yesterday you were bleeding out on the floor a-and now you're acting like it's just okay?!" You cried, throwing your hands up in frustration.

He stared at you for a moment, looking confused before sighing. He rolled over and grabbed his backpack, pulling it into his lap and digging through.

"Eat something and then we'll talk, okay?" He pulled out a bar of something and when you opened it, it resembled a granola bar but was much softer.

When you took a bite, you were surprised that it tasted like meat. But it wasn't bad. Jungkook pulled out his own and quietly began eating. It was silent between the two of you, as you simply ate. Before long, you were finished and Jungkook simply threw the wrappers into his backpack.

"Now will you tell me?" You muttered, raising a brow when he sighed.

He stood up and moved over to the couch, leaving you kneeling beside his makeshift bed. He sat down and looked at you expectantly, making you rise to your feet and stumble over to sit beside him.

"I guess there's no reason to hide it," You scanned over him as he spoke, taking the opportunity to look over his body again. He was fit, no doubt, with faint abs and lovely, veiny forearms.

"So you have super healing abilities?" You asked quietly.

"We...our species produces a chemical naturally that can heal virtually anything," He explained. "It's in any fluid we excrete; even sweat. And it's in our blood, obviously."

"That's amazing..." You whispered, eyes drifting back to his wound. "Why did you let me take care of it if you knew it was going to heal up?"

"I...Because the other planets use us for it," He muttered, fists clenching. "Do you remember what I told you? About the Vorderans?" You nodded and he continued, "They...collected us for the chemical. They produce the highest quality super medicine in the solar system. And it's because they slaughtered thousands of us to get it."

"So...you didn't trust me to tell me?" You asked, though there was no tone to indicate you were trying to guilt him.

"No," He sighed. "But since you did take care of me...I figured I could at least give it a try, right?"

"Thank you, Jungkook," You smiled. "I'm really happy you're okay, you know. I was really worried. Without you, I'd be doomed here."

"That's very true," He smirked, relaxing into the couch. "You're absolutely helpless!"

"Hey!" You pouted. "You could teach me, you know?"

"Teach you how to survive out there?" He asked, nodding his head towards the door. You nodded and he shook his head. "You're too much of a target. I wouldn't be able to handle looking after you and trying to scavenge."

"I guess that's true," You muttered. "I just don't want to be a burden. You went out of your way to help me and I've done nothing in return for the fact you keep helping me."

He wore a frown as he looked at you. "You're not a burden. In fact, I actually appreciate having you around."

"You do?" You asked, your heart stuttering in your chest as he looked at you with sparkling eyes.

"Yeah," He smiled. "I hadn't realized how lonely I was. But with you here now, I feel a lot...happier. Lighter. It feels nice to not be alone."

"I...I'm happy I can make you feel that way, Jungkook," You whispered, meeting his eyes.

The two of you sat like that in silence. You felt a soft brush of Jungkook's fingers on your hand and he easily laced his fingers through yours.

You felt content; happy even.

You were curled up on the couch, unable to sleep through the howling sound of the wind outside. Rain was pouring down and the thunder was so loud your ears were ringing. Clouds blocked out the moon, blanketing you in complete and total darkness.

It was cold, Jungkook still hadn't given you a blanket and you were beginning to think he forgot. The storm had brought the temperature down drastically, leaving your teeth chattering in effect.

The storm was unlike anything you'd experienced on Earth. It was actually a bit scary.

You sat up, finally unable to take it anymore. There was no reason for you to suffer like you were.

You tiptoed over to Jungkook's bedroom and suddenly hesitated. You didn't want to wake him up for a silly blanket, you'd feel bad. Your shoulders sagged and you turned back to sit back down on the couch.

Somehow, you managed to doze off, curled up in a ball in an attempt to keep warm.

You were awoken very soon after by the weight of something warm being laid upon you. Eyes fluttering open, you met Jungkook's eyes. His brows were furrowed and when he saw you were awake, knelt down beside the couch.

"You're freezing, why didn't you ask me for a blanket?" He whispered, mindlessly tucking the blanket around you.

"I-I didn't want to wake you," You mumbled, voice wobbly from shivering.

"Don't worry about that," He grumbled. "I'd rather you wake me up than fucking freeze to death during a storm."

"I'm sorry," You whispered, eyes fluttering again as you finally warmed up. It felt so cozy beneath the blanket and it smelled just like Jungkook. "Thank you, Jungkook."

"Don't worry about it," He whispered, brushing some stray hair off your face as your eyes closed once again.

"It's my duty to take care of you now," He uttered once he was sure you were asleep.

The first time you noticed something was wrong was when you began to get dizzy randomly — usually accompanying a roaring headache. You ignored it, however, choosing to nap off the headache and continue your days on like usual.

Jungkook began going out for scavenging more and more — bringing home killed rodents and other animals. Sometimes he would come home with some rations or a snack from when the world was a functioning metropolis.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked one morning while the two of you ate some breakfast you prepared.

"Huh?" You looked up from your plate at him.

He was gazing at you, brows furrowed as usual but his head was cocked to the side. "You just look really dazed. And you're barely touching your food."

"Ah, I just..." You cleared your throat. "I lost my appetite, I guess."

"Well, I'm going to go out again today," He said, eating the last of what was on his plate. "I'll be back tonight as usual, alright?"

"Yeah, be careful okay?" You whispered, watching as he hesitated staring at you.

He lifted his hand and placed it softly on your head, smiling.

"I'll see you soon."

Left alone, you ate as much of the food as you could before you had to toss it. You found yourself laying on the couch once again, feeling sluggish and lazy. Deciding a nice nap was in order, you let your eyes flutter shut.

When you woke back up, it felt like you were hit by a bus. You groaned, your head pounding making you whine. Sitting up proved to be a bad move as you felt your stomach turn. Immediately you let yourself flop back down.

Of course you'd get sick on a dystopian planet with no access to medicine.

The hours ticked by and there was no sign of Jungkook. You'd gotten accustomed to his schedule and the general time frame you both ran in so you knew he was well overdue for his return.

You became antsy, pacing around and taking naps when you could. The cold you'd acquired seemed to only get worse as you were plagued with an unfortunate fever. Hiding under your blanket didn't help and being out from the blanket didn't help either. You whined, knowing you didn't have any medicine to help break your fever.

Feeling crappy and concerned about Jungkook made tears sting your eyes; you were always a cry baby when sick.

The door opening finally is what woke you up. Jungkook grumbled, slamming the door.

"Why the hell wasn't the door properly locked?" He snapped, dropping his bag on the floor with a bang.

"Hey...that's loud," You whined, flinching at the way your head began to pound.

"Answer me—hey...what's the matter?" He asked, losing his anger for concern.

"I'm sick," You complained, watching as he kneeled down.

"Sick?" He mumbled, looking over your face — noticing your glassy eyes.

"I have a fever," You explained with a sigh.

He hummed, bringing his hand up to press his palm against your forehead. He hissed, pulling back and sighing.

"I was so scared you weren't coming back, you were gone so long," You whispered, shakily sitting up.

Jungkook's hands hovered in the air, ready to help or catch you if you fell. "I'm sorry, I went a little further than I usually do. But I was only gone overnight. It wasn't that long."

"It felt like days," You whined, tears stinging your eyes.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, cupping your cheek and brushing some hair away from your eye. "I didn't mean to upset you so much."

"It's okay, I'm just...a crybaby," You muttered, cheeks flushing at the fond smile that crossed Jungkook's face — a cute bunny-like smile.

"I...can help you feel better, if you'd let me," He asked, moving to sit beside you on the couch. "My species can cure illnesses, remember?"

"How will you do that?" You asked, voice a little slurred.

"Well..." In the moon's illumination, you could see his ears burning red. "I...I can kiss you?"

Your mind blanked at those words, blinking several times to take in what he said. You recalled what he said about his saliva, or any fluid, possessing the chemical to cure illnesses. Still, despite the fact it was for medicinal purposes, your stomach fluttered with butterflies and your heart stuttered in your chest the idea of kissing him.

"I-I don't mind..." You uttered, subconsciously licking your lips.

He cupped your cheek, leaning down and ever so softly brushed his lips against yours. When you sighed happily at the contact, he surged forward and pulled you into a much deeper kiss. Your lips moved in unison and you couldn't help but reach up to wrap your arms around his neck.

Shuddering, you held in a whimper when his tongue met your lips. You eagerly opened your mouth, shuddering as the taste of him lingered upon your tongue. Your fingers clutched at his hair as you continued to deepen the kiss.

After several long, lovely seconds of the kiss — he finally pulled away. There was a small strand of saliva still connecting the two of you. He brushed his thumb across your lips, breaking the strand.

The two of you sighed, falling silent but he kept his hand on your cheek.

"You should rest now, you'll feel better soon," He whispered, standing up and stepping away.

You missed his touch immediately, and watched him until he disappeared behind his bedroom door.

You curled up under the blanket, fingers pressed to your lips as the feeling of him kissing you lingered. The way your heart began to race made you sigh heavily; what an effect he had on you.

The next day, you were feeling much better and were back to eating properly. You could tell Jungkook was happy; he was positively beaming and smiling at you every chance he got.

It was cute.

The two of you were playing a card game; using some cards you'd had in your bag for when you were bored on the trip through Fanet IV. You were teaching him Earth games and how to play.

You were just about to beat him for the 5th time at Go Fish when there was a heavy knock on the door. Both of you jumped and Jungkook was on his feet in a second.

His whole body was tense and his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. He carefully moved in front of you, shielding your body from the door subconsciously.

"Wh-What is it?" You asked, keeping your voice low.

"No one should come here," He whispered back. "Go hide in the bedroom, alright?"

"But Jungkook—"

"Just do it!" He snapped, giving a gentle push to your back to urge you into the open doorway.

You spared him a longing glance before he pulled the door shut with a soft click.

You took a seat on his bed, listening through the thin walls as Jungkook's heavy footsteps moved towards the door. There was a loud click as he unlocked the deadbolt.

There was a quick beat of silence before a slam so loud that you had to cover your mouth to keep from shrieking.

"Fuck! What the fuck are you doing here?!" You heard Jungkook shout.

"Followed you home," Came a gruff, almost bored-sounding reply. "You weren't very smart. Didn't even notice you were being tailed."

"Fuck," You heard Jungkook swear.

"Now, I hope you make this easy for me and just come along nicely," The stranger asked. “Maybe if you tell me where more are hiding, I'll go easy on you.”

Jungkook didn't offer a reply but you could hear heavy boots approaching the bedroom door. You kept your hands over your mouth to keep from making a peep as you slid off the bed and huddled yourself into a dark corner.

The stranger suddenly shrieked and there was a heavy thud of someone falling to the floor. Jungkook let out a string of curses before there was a crash, grunting and scuffling filling your ears.

What was going on?

From where you hid, you could see a little box beneath Jungkook's bed. As quietly as you could, you pulled it out and opened it up.

It was an array of several different knives. Eyes flicking over to the door, you hatched an idea to hopefully help.

If Jungkook didn't win, the man was going to take him away. The mere thought of that happening sent a spark of terror through you.

Picking up the biggest knife that was in the box, you tiptoed over to the door. You could still hear the two of them fighting, the sound covering up the soft click of the door opening. Peeking through the crack, you were shocked to see the table smashed completely. The man was pinning Jungkook down by his throat. Jungkook was struggling, obviously unable to get air. The stranger laughed mockingly down at him.

Your hands and knees were trembling as you quickly crept out.

"You barely even put up a fight," The stranger spat at Jungkook. "You Heajix never were able to take us on though, isn't that right? That's why we were able to kill so many of you! Such incredible strength yet still unable to protect yourselves. Pathetic.”

You couldn't even register his words as you finally stood behind him. Jungkook's eyes were fluttering and he was dangerously close to passing out.

Steeling yourself, you raised the knife overhead and brought it down as hard as you could. The man shrieked so loud that your ears were ringing. The knife was stuck in his back, buried more than halfway through. Part of you felt proud for putting the power behind the attack.

Jungkook let out a desperate gasp, finally getting the oxygen he desperately needed. While you were distracted looking at Jungkook, the strange man spun around and grabbed you by your throat.

"I knew there was someone else here," The man snarled, squeezing your neck as hard as he could.

You couldn't even make a sound of pain as your feet were lifted off the ground. Your vision was swimming but you could make you Jungkook getting to his feet. The man, you noticed, had strange glowing eyes — as if a light were coming from behind them and illuminating the whites.

In the blink of an eye, Jungkook ripped the knife from your assailants back — making him drop you in shock. You hit the ground hard, knocking what little air you had left in you right out.

Jungkook was on the man before he could even blink, stabbing him several times until he was on his knees. Jungkook paused, chest and shoulders heaving as he glared down at the man.

Then, you watched with wide eyes as Jungkook lifted his leg and kicked the man so hard his body physically flew back. The man was limp, blood dripping from his mouth and nose — eyes open and unseeing.

"Holy shit..." You whispered from where you were still laying on the floor.

"Are you alright?" Jungkook asked, helping you sit up with a gentleness that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. His hands were coated in the intruders blood but you didn't mind.

Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you knocked him down on his butt. You hugged him tight, sighing when you felt him wrap his own arms around you.

"I-I didn't know what to do," You whispered. "He was saying he was going to take you away. I saw you were about to pass out and I knew he would take you. I'm sorry I got involved."

"Hey, it's okay," Jungkook pulled back and smiled. "You saved me! Maybe you aren't as helpless as I thought."

You smiled, shaking your head. Then, without thinking, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. He froze for a fraction of a second but quickly cupped the back of your head and returned the kiss.

When you parted, you asked, "So what do we do with him?"

"The Vorderans are going to come looking for him when they notice he's not reported back to them," Jungkook mumbled, looking over his shoulder at the body. "I'll take him out somewhere and dump him off where they won't be able to link it to me."

"You're going to leave right after that?" You asked, your shoulders slumping.

"I shouldn't be gone long, _____," He smiled, brushing his thumb over your pouted lips.

"But what if there are more of them? What if they take you away and I don't even know!"

As if sensing the panic in your voice, he cupped your cheeks and brought your gaze to him.

"That won't happen," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead — sending your heart into painful palpitations. "It'll be easier to hide out there and easier to lose them if they do find me. I promise, I'll come back and everything will be okay."

"I'm just...scared, Jungkook," You admitted, feeling your eyes burn.

"I know," He sighed, pressing another kiss to your forehead. Your cheeks immediately felt like they were on fire. "But I would never leave you like that."

You clung onto him as long as he allowed you before he decided it was best to get going. He told you to hide in his room until he got back and to just rest.

"Don't open the door," He warned, though he already knew he didn't have to worry about that.

Left alone, you didn't know what to do with yourself. You'd watched Jungkook lift the body like it was nothing — which only reminded you of what the Vorderan has said; Heajix just had incredible physical strength.

You had a much better concept of time since you weren't sick and you were sure 2 days had passed since you'd last seen Jungkook. You could barely sleep, anxiety plaguing every second that he was gone.

You'd taken to sleeping in his bed, taking comfort in his scent surrounding you. Thankfully, Jungkook had managed to stock up on food so you were able to properly eat in his absence. Though it was more a mechanical task to pass the time than it was for actually sustaining you.

It hadn't occurred to you how much he had changed until you were laying in his bed one night. You thought back to the rough, cold exterior he had when you first met him. And now you were blessed with his smile and comforting caresses.

He made your heart ache in the best way and you wanted to hold him and have him kiss you over and over again. He was so sweet and did his best to take care of you.

You'd really been lucky that he was around when he was that night.

The fact he hadn't returned didn't help quell the fears of more Vorderans being around just waiting for someone to come around. For a Heajix to take away.

You didn't think you would hate an alien planet over the sake of another alien race but you knew the Heajix had been treated unfairly. It was cruel and the fact it was just allowed to happen and no one cared really made you angry.

If you ever got back to Earth you were going to do something to help.

You were lost thinking about the things you could do to help when the front door clicked open.

A spark of fear went down your spine as you sat straight up in the bed. Through the door and walls, you could hear heavy footsteps moving around.

They moved to the door and paused. You held your breath, pulling the covers up to your chin as you watched the door creak open.

A black head of fluffy hair popped in and smiled when he saw you sitting there.

"I was wondering where you—!" He was cut off by you flying off the bed and throwing yourself into his arms.

"You're home!" You gasped, burying your face in his neck. You didn't bother fighting the tears that tumbled down your cheeks.

"Yeah..." You could hear the smile in his voice as he wrapped his arms around you, fisting the back of your shirt tightly as if you would slip away. "I'm home."

"I was so worried and..." Your cheeks burned before you muttered, "I missed you."

Reaching up, he cupped both your cheeks in his hands, making you look up at him. You leaned into the feeling of his touch on your skin as he wiped your tears away ever so carefully. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours.

"I missed you too," He smiled, pecking your lips again. "But I'm back just like I promised I would be. I told you I'd never leave you, right?"

"You're right," You whispered, moving forward to kiss him again. He eagerly reciprocated and you whined into his lips.

He gripped your hips, rough and harsh. You winced, pulling your lips away slightly only for him to chase them — muttering a soft apology before relaxing his grip.

Neither of you wasted time moving to the bed. With your back pressed against the mattress and his wide shoulders above you, you couldn’t help the shiver running down your spine.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him down for another kiss.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” He breathed against your lips.

“Please,” You whispered, reaching down to tug at the hem of his dirty shirt.

“So pretty when you beg,” He growled, sitting up on his knees to pull the shirt off.

Immediately, your hands were roaming across his chest — grazing over scars and tattoos.

He groaned when your fingers brushed over his pebbled nipples. Leaning down, he nipped against the sensitive skin of your neck. As you sighed in pleasure, he began to push your own shirt up until he was able to toss it away.

Sitting up, he let out a curse at the sight of your bare breasts. One large hand cupped one, thumb rolling the nipple harshly until you whimpered. His lips moved down your neck to take the other nipple into his hot mouth, tongue flicking the bud. Your hands wound into his hand, back arching to get more of the delicious feeling.

“Jungkook, please…” You whined, arching your hips upwards. “I-I want you so much.”

“Yeah?” He groaned against your breast, moving to take your other perked nipple into his mouth. “Who would have figured I’d already have you begging?”

“I missed you so much, Jungkook,” You whined, sniffling softly as the emotions came rushing back. “I need you to touch me, please.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” He whispered, leaning back up to peck your lips.

In one swift move, your pants were tugged down your legs until you were left in just your panties. He hummed cupping your heat through the fabric, easily finding your clit and pressing against it. You sighed, head rolling back as you ground your hips down into his touch. Unable to take it, you reached down and tugged your panties off. He allowed you, watching as you kicked them away and spread your legs for him.

“Fuck,” He groaned, dropping onto his stomach between your legs. “So pretty and wet.”

Your legs trembled as he slid two fingers between your folds, spreading them to expose your leaking entrance. He groaned, low in his chest before quickly diving in to catch some of your arousal on his tongue. You sighed, eyes fluttering close as he swirled his tongue over your clit.

“Ah, Jungkook!” You cried, gripping his hair.

“Fuck,” He growled, pulling back slightly. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“G-Gentle,” You whined, gripping his hair tighter. “It’s sensitive.”

He didn’t respond, simply chuckled before diving back in. He took your clit into his mouth and sucked until your back arched. Soon, he introduced his fingers — easily sliding two in. There was a slight burn but it lasted only a second.

“You can take 3, right?” He chuckled, rolling his tongue over your clit. “You’re gonna need that many to even think of trying to take my knot.”

“Kn-Knot?” You gasped, unable to wrap your head fully around his words as he pumped the two digits in and out.

Your hips bucked when he hit your g-spot. Your eyes rolled as he continued to abuse the spot while playing with your clit in any way he could.

“I’m gonna cum soon, Kook,” You whined, unaware the pet name had slipped through your lips.

He growled, viciously pounding his fingers upwards and suckling your clit into his mouth. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, a tight coil of pleasure winding in your stomach. Opening your eyes, you looked down to see his bangs matted to his forehead with sweat. His eyes were closed and his brows were furrowed in concentration. He looked like he was in utopia himself.

What broke the cord, however, was when he eased the third finger into you. You gasped, back arching as you cried out his name — cumming around the digits. He didn’t stop, fucking your spasming hole and sucking on your twitching clit throughout your entire high until you were whining and pushing him away.

He separated his mouth from you with a lewd pop and slid his fingers out. You felt empty, clenching around nothing as he popped his cum soaked fingers in his mouth. His eyes rolled back at your taste and he chased what was left on his lips until there was nothing left of your cum.

He stood at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and letting them slide to the floor until he could step out of them. He wasn’t wearing any underwear and you nearly drooled at the sight of his hard cock— weeping at the flushed, red tip with a soft swell at the base of his cock.

You scooted forward on your knees, wrapping your hand around his shaft and leaning forward to slide your tongue of the slit. He sighed, head falling back on his shoulders as you took the thick head on your mouth and sucked. The taste of his precum was delectable — salty-sweet with a bitter tang.

“You’ll make me cum too fast with your pretty lips on me like that, baby,” He whispered, gripping your hair to pull you away.

You whined at the loss but let him urge you onto your back. Your feet hanging off the end of the bed and Jungkook standing at the end with a fist wrapped around his cock made you lick your lips. He looked so powerful standing over you like he was.

“Scoot back,” He ordered, crawling onto the bed after you.

With your head in the pillows, you spread your legs for him. Knees on either side of his waist, you both looked down to watch as he slid the head of his cock between your wet folds — coating himself in your juices. A split second of hesitation as he positioned his tip at your entrance felt like an eternity.

“Are you sure you want to…?” He asked softly, mindlessly slapped your clit with the head of himself.

“Please,” You gasped, wrapping your hand in his hair to tug him down.

Your mouths simultaneously fell open as he pressed inside, the fat head spreading your walls open. The sound was wet as he sunk inside, dirty and obscene. Your eyes rolled back as he finally bottomed out — the base of him almost as thick as his head.

He dropped down onto his elbows beside your head, pulling you in for another kiss as he began to thrust in and out of your clenching walls.

Every time he sunk inside, he grazed your g-spot making you moan.

“So fucking tight,” He growled. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to take my knot, babygirl.”

“K-Kook—”

“Fuck!” He snarled, cock twitching at the sound of the nickname, slamming his cock into you harshly, making you whined. “Keep calling me that.”

“Kook!” You cried, scrambling to claw at his muscled back.

“I’m gonna knock you up, beautiful,” He breathed, chuckling when he felt you clench around him. “Oh? You like the sound of that? Tell me.”

“Pl-Please kn-knock me up, Kook,” You begged, voice breathy as you fought back sobs of pleasure.

“Yeah, sound so pretty begging for my cum,” He chuckled, reached down to find your swollen clit. “How about you cum for me first?”

Your mouth fell open as everything became even more intense. He didn’t stop the rapid circles on your clit until you were crying out his name and arching. You gushed around him, walls spasming uncontrollably as he fucked you through the high.

As you came down, everything became more intense and sensitive. Every time he sunk inside, the base of his cock would catch at your entrance and stretch you just a tad more. You clung to him, eyes closed as he fucked his knot into your sensitive walls.

“I’m gonna cum,” He warned, suddenly pausing balls deep — his knot popped into your walls, swollen big enough that he couldn't pull back out.

You could feel his cock as it pulsed inside of you — a hot rush of cum immediately following. His head fell into the crook of your neck as he moaned and trembled above you. The knot at the base of his cock throbbed — urging more and more cum out of his cock.

He chuckled darkly, looking down at your swelling tummy — having been stuffed full of his cum that couldn’t escape around his knot.

Your cunt clenched around him and you whined. You felt so full but it felt so good.

Jungkook's nimble fingers found your clit and began to circle the hardened bud in brutal circles. With a dark smirk on his lips, he met your gaze where your eyes were wide and your mouth was open in a silent moan.

"That's it...give it to me, baby," He ordered, grinding his hips against you — his knot and cock stirring your sensitive walls up. “Cum on my knot for me, like a good girl.”

Your head fell back against the pillow as your back arched. The both of you moaned in unison at your orgasm, the tight squeeze and gush from your orgasm set him off again. Tightening his grip on your hips made you whine but the pain blended into the pleasure as Jungkook's knot throbbed as more cum poured into your already well-filled cunt. Slowly, his body relaxed and he heaved a sigh before beginning to change your positions.

His knot tugged at your walls, making you both hiss. You laid side by side, your head resting on his arm.

As you both caught your breath, you felt his knot slowly shrink until he was able to pull out completely. You whimpered at the gush of cum that followed — oozing out of your stretched entrance and staining the bed beneath you.

He groaned, dropping back onto his stomach between your legs. Feeling embarrassed, you moved to close your legs but his strong hands caught you and forced them back open. You covered your face with your hands and whined as he suddenly slid his tongue across your cum-soaked folds.

Absolutely obscene sounds of him moaning and licking you clean filled the space. Your hips jerked in oversensitivity whenever he brushed over your clit.

Sliding his tongue into your entrance, he caught and swallowed down everything he could reach. Him eating his own cum out of you had your walls clenching again and he chuckled before pulling away.

Pulling your hands away from your heated cheeks, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You whined, circling your arms around his neck as he fed his cum into your mouth for you to swallow.

You moaned at the taste of him, swallowing everything he gave you — continuing to kiss long after you swallowed it. The remnants of his cum lingered on your tongue and on his lips.

Pulling back, he leaned his forehead against yours and moved to lay on his side beside you once again. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled your body close to his.

The two of you dissolved into a comfortable silence; his fingers tracing random shapes along your skin and you taking in his sweet scent and enjoying the warmth of his arms around you.

You were sitting with Jungkook on the floor in front of the couch. Since the table was broken, the two of you were using the couch as a makeshift table. He had an array of papers and old book across the surface and had been spending the last two days teaching you to read the Heajix written alphabet. It was difficult and you frequently confused letters but Jungkook was patient — and gave you kisses whenever you got something right which was great incentive.

Unfortunately, the relaxing atmosphere was broken by a series of knocks on the front door. Jungkook was on his feet immediately, knife drawn and at the ready.

You stayed back, watching as he approached the door and slowly unlocked it. You watched as he took a deep breath and threw the door open.

"What—" Jungkook was at a loss. There was a man standing at the door with his hands up to show he was unarmed.

"My name is Hakyeon," He said, motioning to his badge. "I work for the Interplanetary Embassy on Earth. We received an Emergency beacon and we've been told the human was here."

"Holy shit! It actually got through?!" You cried, jumping to your feet and running over to the open door. "Why did it take you so damn long?"

Hakyeon looked confused, shaking his head. "We received it only 2 days ago...I was the nearest representative and was tasked with finding you."

"Weird..." You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders. "I guess I can go home now, right?"

"If that's what you wish still, yes," He replied, eyeing Jungkook by your side.

"Um," You cleared your throat. "Your ship will be nearby right?"

"Yes, I'll...wait for you there," Hakyeon said, taking the hint.

The door shut and Jungkook was silent.

"Jungkook—"

"I guess you're leaving, right?" He asked, keeping his eyes down. "There's no logical reason for me to ask you to stay here...it's dangerous and you should be somewhere safe."

"But Jungkook..." You reached forward to touch him but he backed away.

"If I'm honest, ______," He wandered away, leaving you to watch him. His voice was shaky, wobbling with the onslaught of tears. "I really don't want you to go and I know that's selfish! But I really don't think I can be alone again. Especially after finding someone I can actually love."

"Jungkook!" You snapped, making him look at you. You sighed speedily walking up to him and pressing your lips to his before he could back away. "I love you too."

"But—"

"Come with me," You whispered, clutching the front of his shirt in your hands. "Come back to Earth with me. We'll find someone there who will help. The Embassy would be more than willing to assist in the cleanup and protection of Palacios and Heajix. You can speak for everyone here who is struggling to survive and those you haven't."

"You want me to come with you?" He breathed, covering your hands with his. Tears still fell from his eyes but in a matter of seconds, he was smiling and pulling you against him in a hug so tight it knocked the air out of you.

"Of course I do, stupid!" You laughed, hugging him back as tight as you could. "Why would I leave you when you refused to leave me, huh?"

"...I love you," He whispered, giving you another kiss.

"Let's get our things together," You said before the two of you separated.

Jungkook packed his bag with anything important, sentimental or not. You noticed he packed his picture away with a sad smile.

Once the two of you were ready, you took his hand and walked out the door. He paused and looked behind him, at the house he'd been living in for the longest time. The boarded up windows and the water reservoir he'd spent ages perfecting.

You squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. He smiled, taking the first step away.

You felt yourself relax against the seat once the two of you were on the craft. Jungkook was gripping your hand tight — it was hurting a bit but you didn't say anything. His gaze was locked on the window, watching as his home planet disappeared from view.

The surface was covered in a green, gaseous layer of pollution and smog that he seemed almost surprised to see. The pollution of the planet was most evident one outside of the planet's atmosphere.

"I'm happy you're here, Jungkook," You whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I am too," He replied, resting his head against yours as he watched the stars and planets pass by until Palacios was out of view.

#btssmutclub #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jeongguk smut #jeongguk scenarios #jeongguk imagines #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #bts x reader #bangtan x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jeongguk fanfic #bangtan fanfic

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Left Behind - Chapter 6 - Once a Promise, Always a Promise.

Gif was made by my official gif maker friend @abimess

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses.

Words: 4.753k

A/N> It's been 84 years... I just hope someone still reads this haha Let me know what you think

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Series Masterlist

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Chapter 6 - Once a Promise, Always a Promise.

When you wake up, you get your ass beaten up by an unknown woman.

You awaken all at once, advancing against the woman who was watching you sleep. Her surprise only lasts a second, however, as the next she returns your blow and knocks you to the ground, a gun pointed straight at your face.

Wide-eyed, you realize where you are and raise your hands.

"Sorry, sorry." You can quickly. "I thought I was in the lab again. Who the hell are you by the way?"

The woman raises her eyebrow at you.

"Cap, get over here before I shoot her."

And the next second, a blond man is running into the area of the ship where you are, looking worried.

"Let's all calm down, okay?" He asks as he sees the gun extended, and waits for the woman to put it down. You sigh lightly, rising to stand up.

"I'm sorry I attacked you, Miss." You ask as soon as you are on your feet, and massage your shoulder, which hit the ground hard when she knocked you down.

"It's fine, you just got beat up anyway." She teases, making you give a short laugh.

You were about to ask if they could let you off the ship anywhere, but a low groan of pain beside you caught your attention.

Just then you noticed the man lying on the stretcher next to you a few feet away, a large wound in his rib. You are also able to notice the rest of the ship, there is a man piloting a few meters away, and two men sitting further ahead, talking to each other.

"Hey, I can help." You stated immediately, but as soon as you moved, the woman stood in front of you, looking at you with suspicion and defiance, and you swallowed dryly. "I-I can heal him." You clarified, but the woman only changed her posture when the man next to you touched her forearm.

"Can you do that?" He asks you, and you nod. You wait for the woman to take a step back to approach the man on the stretcher.

"Hey, are you guys sure of this?" The man lying down asked uncomfortably, and you raise your hands in the air.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, I won't hurt you, I promise. "You guarantee it." Can I heal your injuries?" You ask and wait for him to confirm.

The wound is deep, but you have dealt with much worse.

"How did you do that?"

"It was nothing." You say as you put your hands down. His skin was completely intact again.

"This sure is cooler than lightning, huh, Thor?" Commented the blond as he sat down on the stretcher, clearly feeling better. The long-haired man at the back of the ship looks at you curiously as he stands up, and when he notices his colleague completely healed, he looks impressed.

"This sure is an interesting skill for a mortal." He says to you, and you don't know exactly what to make of those words, but you don't have time to comment, because he is already approaching to introduce himself. "My name is Thor Odinson, god of thunder."

You frown.

"G-god of thunder?" You repeat confused. "Sorry, is that some kind of joke?"

The woman next to you giggles, moving to sit on the stretcher next to the man you healed. The blond man in front of you looks slightly offended, but his expression softens immediately.

"I understand that at first, mortals may be incredulous at such a..."

"No, I just thought the title was funny." You interrupt the blond man, surprising him. "You guys are the Avengers, aren't you? My master has already told me about you."

“Your master?”

It is the other blond guy in the blue uniform who asks. You mentally repress yourself.

"Damn, sorry." You say. "It's what I used to call the soldiers and doctors who gave me orders."

"Your files say that you disappeared in Sokovia when you were younger, and what we found at the base were the records of the experiments they did on you." He adds, and you twiddle your fingers nervously. "I just want to make sure you're not going to try to bring the plane down with everyone inside."

The attempted joke is enough to make you smile, but you are beginning to feel overwhelmed. You really were free. After all this time, the idea seemed almost absurd.

You try to control your emotion at once, and the man seems to notice, because his expression softens immediately.

"Hey, come have a seat." He asks, signaling to one of the empty chairs, and you obey. "My name is Steve Rogers, and I promise you're safe now. Hydra will never hurt you again."

You nod frantically, feeling the tears in your eyes. But you try to normalize your breathing, not wanting to cry in front of strangers.

"I'm sorry, I just... I've just been trying to get away for so long." You confess next, wiping your eyes quickly. "It's weird to think I succeeded."

"We are going back to the Avengers tower now. Is there anyone you would like to get in touch with?" He asks, and his words make your stomach sink.

"Yes." You say. "But I have no idea where they are."

"Who? Your family?"

You give a short laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so. They were..." You start trying to remember exactly. You didn't even know how long it had been since the time you saw the twins at the Hydra base. You had no idea if they were alive, but you wanted to believe they were. Taking a deep breath, you continue. "They were my friends. Wanda and Pietro, we grew up together. They... I saw them once. When I still had the serum in my head. I..."

Seeing your difficulty in organizing your thoughts, Steve interrupts you by touching your forearm.

"It's okay." He says. "We'll find the twins."

"So they really are alive?"

Steve smiles.

"Yes." He answers and you feel your body relax all at once. "They ran away, I imagine they were scared, but we'll find them."

You gasp, unable to control your tears. Neither Steve nor the rest of the Avengers seem to care.

When you calm down, Steve introduces you to the rest of the team.

You are not exactly happy to meet Tony Stark. The mention of his last name makes you frown, because you know it was a Stark bomb that blew up your home at Sokovia, but when you accuse Tony, he seems really upset.

"Well, I guess you can get on the list of people who hate me then." He grumbles and you cross your arms, the whole team sensing the tension in the air.

"You could at least apologize for blowing up half of Sokovia with your weapons." You retort angrily, and the man rolls his eyes, not getting up from the armchair you were in.

"Sure, no problem. I'm sorry, kiddo. Happy?"

You clench your jaw, but before you can say anything, Steve steps forward.

"Tony, try not to be a jerk, okay?" The captain speaks and the other man lets out a wry laugh. "Have at least some respect for the girl's story."

"I have respect, Captain." He assures as he stands up, looking impatient. "What I don't have is time to revisit the past while our enemies get more and more powerful." He says and you frown in confusion. "I've already banned weapons production in the industries, and we've already taken on Hydra in that place. Now we can move on, because I need to get back to the compound and understand exactly what that thing is."

He speaks and finishes by signaling to the opposite side, and it is only then that you notice the shining scepter on the far side of the room and let out a surprised exclamation, taking three steps backwards.

"How did you guys get this?" You ask horrified and the team looks at you curiously.

"Have you seen the scepter before?"

"Of course I have!" You reply. "That's what gave me the healing! The damn stone went through my chest."

Thor steps forward, looking at you in surprise.

"So Hydra were able to decipher the scepter?

You laugh humorlessly.

"If by decipher you mean press the scepter against my chest while preening me in an iron chair, then yes." You reply, but take a deep breath to calm yourself. "A yellow stone came off as soon as the scepter touched me. And well, it went right through my skin. When I woke up, I could heal. But whatever it is, it killed all the soldiers who were holding me."

Thor seems to consider your words as Steve tells you that he is sorry for what you went through in Hydra.

Suddenly you remember where you first saw him.

"The man on the bridge!" You exclaimed, surprising him, but you were getting your memories gradually, and your heart was racing. "You are Captain America.... My god, where is Bucky?"

"Great, another fan of the metal arm." Tony comments sarcastically, but no one seems to care.

Steve looks at you with a frown.

"Is he safe? Is he free? Can I see him?" You ask promptly next, and Natasha chuckles.

"Hey, calm down." Steve asks and you swallow dryly, trying not to feel so overwhelmed with so many memories coming back at once. "How do you know Bucky?"

You blink in surprise.

"He...he didn't talk about me?"

It takes a second, and then Steve's eyes widen.

“Oh my god, you’re the guardian!

"I am what now?"

Steve lets out an incredulous laugh.

"The guardian." He repeats as if you were going to understand what he meant.

Natasha clears her throat.

"Captain, perhaps you'd better explain." She asks and Steve gestures quickly.

"We've been looking for you for months." Steve then adds, causing you to widen your eyes in surprise. "Bucky he... he's been trying to find you since he escaped. But he didn't know your name. All he knew was the nickname you got from the soldiers. The golden guardian of death. It's been our only tip to find you."

"I thought it was just golden guardian." Clint adds next, Nat makes a noise of agreement.

"No, I'm sure it was just Guardian of Death." Thor comments, but you are barely listening to the teasing, feeling your thoughts racing.

Steve raises his hands to your shoulders.

"Thank you so much for saving Bucky." He says before hugging you. You feel your neck heat up at the sudden contact, but do your best to reciprocate.

Steve lets you go then, smiling.

"He's going to be so happy to see you."

"Where is he?"

"At the compound." Steve replies. "He cannot attend field missions, it's part of the pardon. It's too much bureaucracy to explain now.."

"I think he's just lazy." Tony adds wryly, making the Avengers giggle.

And Steve's smile dies briefly.

"What's with you today, anyway, Stark?"

Tony sighs impatiently, finally rising from his armchair.

"I'm sorry if I'm not reacting in the way you consider proper captain, but I'm concerned about getting to work soon." He says as he moves toward you two. “I need to find out what this thing really is.”

"No, Stark, you won't touch this." It is Thor who announces, and all the avengers look genuinely surprised.

"I beg your pardon?" Stark retorted, but Thor didn't hesitate before he looked at you next.

"Describe to me again how you got your healing, mortal."

You sigh lightly.

"They locked me in an iron chair and brought the scepter." You narrated. "But they lie me on the chair next, and I could only feel the metal against my skin, and then I saw a yellow light. Something went right through my chest, and then right through." You say. "I blacked out for a second, the room was completely empty like a vision. When I blinked, it was back, but all the soldiers holding me were dead. And then they knocked me out."

"Before you said you saw a yellow stone?"

You nodded in agreement.

"I dreamed of this memory for several days." You clarify. "I was back in the room, but this time I watched myself. I saw when they put the scepter to my chest, and when the golden stone came out and went through my skin. It was the stone that released the wave of energy that killed the soldiers .I don't know why I didn't die too."

"A single blow that killed a group of soldiers at once." Thor mutters more to himself than to the rest of the teams. "It's decided then, no mortal must touch this. It's clearly far more power than anyone should have."

"This is ridiculous." Thor accused the next moment, making the team look at him curiously. "You can't just deny knowledge about something like that and..."

"Why are you so insistent on this, Tony?" It's Steve who asks suspiciously. Tony sighs, and gives a short laugh.

"You guys are unbelievable, you know." He says. "I'm trying to find new alternatives to our problems."

"What problems?" Steve asks with a confused grimace, and Tony rolls his eyes, looking nervous.

"Our enemies, Captain!" He snarls. "In case you haven't noticed, it hasn't been too long since we faced an army of robots coming from a hole in the sky!" He accuses. "We don't have the power to face this kind of thing. The scepter is exactly what I need to prevent the worst from happening."

"Where did that come from, Tony?" Steve retorted confused.

Stark gave a short laugh, rolling his eyes.

"I don't have time for this." He grimaced and moved to grab the scepter, but Thor stood in the way, arms crossed. "Really?" Tony impatiently charges, but Thor doesn't move. Stark clenches his jaw before declaring angrily. "I had a vision, okay? I saw all of us, defeated. Defeated because we didn't have the power to win. And I... I could have prevented it."

The avengers look as confused as you are, and remain silent. Tony sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

"It was New York again, but this time the enemy won." He continues, visually upset. When he lifted his face in Steve's direction, his look was angry, but his eyes had tears in it. "And you told me that I could have stopped it."

“I wouldn't do that.” Steve says. “If we ever lose, I wouldn't blame you, Tony.”

Tony gives a short laugh.

“Wouldn’t you really?” He retorts. “I’m pretty sure you would, cap.”

Steve takes a step forward, his eyes soften as he looks at his friend.

“I promise you, Tony. If we lose, we lose together.” He declares. “That’s what being an Avengers means. I’m sorry if I was not clear before, and made you feel any different than this or…”

“Stop it!” Tony angrily interrupts. You flinch because you think you saw a familiar red light in his eyes. “Cut this sentimental crap, Steve. I’m just trying to do what’s necessary here.”

“Back off, Stark!” You order as you noted how he has moved his wand to the scepter, he seems surprised by the action too. You move in his direction as he takes two steps back, looking irritated. You gave him no time to answer however, as you raise your hands over his head and touch his forehead with your fingers before he can complain.

Immediately, you can feel the remnants of magic on Tony's head. You don't recognize it at first, but as your own magic removes the other energy, you sigh slightly. It feels familiar, but you don't know why. The energy is still harmful though, probably due to the intention of the one who cast it, but you manage to clean it all up.

You succeed because you coordinate your magic to wipe the other energy like you usually clear and heal wounds, and it seems to work, because Tony raises his hands to your wrist, his wide-eyed eyes soften and he looks almost startled.

"I'm sorry." He asks and swallows dryly. You remove your fingers from his forehead completely, watching with curiosity. He takes a deep breath, blinking several times as if waking up. "I'm sorry, everyone, I... Damn, it was like a horrible dream. I need to lie down for a minute."

And with that he leaves.

You don't ask questions anymore, because Steve is going after him, and you are trying to figure it out why you still feel the unknown magic tingling at your fingertips, as if it is trying to merge with yours.

//-//

You cry when you see Bucky again.

He lets out a disbelieving laugh, and then he's running up, hugging you tight.

Your conversation is long and intense, and is almost mostly made up of gratitude.

The other Avengers seem very happy to see the whole interaction, especially Steve.

Tony isolates himself in his room as soon as you arrive, and Thor looks upset. He and Bruce discuss something, and then they go to talk to Tony.

You don't pay attention because you are listening to Bucky tell you about getting all his memories back, and living with the Avengers since you helped him. He was now free from Hydra's control, and was pardoned by the state on condition that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

Nat also added in his narrative the information that he and Steve were "making fondue" and the joke made him laugh with red cheeks but you didn't understand what that meant.

You are very happy to see him, but you can't help but think that he was not the one you wanted to find when you were free.

When he introduces you to the rest of the compound, and to your room, you hug him in appreciation, and you both exchange a knowing look, finally acknowledging that you are safe.

//-//

Your first night in the compound is a strange one.

After meeting the whole team, who were polite despite having fought you a few hours ago, you received a full meal and then locked yourself in your room.

But you were not used to having such a soft bed, not even before Hydra, so sleeping seemed kind of impossible.

Figuring that the Avengers wouldn't mind you taking a late night stroll, you left your room.

"Are you lost, girl?" A female voice suddenly sounded making you jump in fright. It was Natasha Romanoff, or as she introduced herself earlier, Black Widow.

"S-sorry, ma'am." You retorted clumsily, and the woman raised her eyebrows at you. "I can't sleep."

"First, I'm not old, so don't call me ma'am." She commented wryly, and you tried to smile. "Second, I know the feeling. If you want, I can distract you."

Your last social conversation with a woman happened a long time ago, and then you find yourself asking:

"Are you inviting me to have sex?"

Nat lets out a surprised laugh, crossing her arms.

"Where did that come from?" she asks, and you scratch your neck lightly.

"Sorry, I learned how to talk to women from television shows that Hydra soldiers watched in the labs. Bad references. What did you mean by distracting me?"

Nat laughed, impressed by your words.

"I meant like have some tea and tell a story." She clarifies, not sounding the least bit upset. You put your hands in the pockets of the pajamas you've been given.

"R-right. That sounds more appropriate." You mumble with flushed cheeks, eliciting another laugh from the woman. As you begin walking side by side, she comments.

"You know, I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with you around here. You are just as awkward as Steve and Bucky."

You end up hearing a story about agents in Budapest, but it seems Nat doesn't tell the whole story. It's nice, though, you missed talking to someone.

"That thing you did earlier with Tony, that was really cool." Nat remarks after a pause in silence.

You take a sip of your tea after shrugging, but she seems inquisitive.

"How did you know it was Maximoff who messed with his head?"

You almost choke at the sudden mention of the name and Nat's watchful gaze makes it impossible to disguise. You sigh.

"I... They are my friends." You confess looking down at the cup, "Or they used to be."

Raising your gaze to Nat again, she only seems curious to know, and you shrug slightly, deciding to trust her.

"We grew up together in Sokovia." You count twirling your fingers on the handle of your cup, "They were the only family I had in the orphanage. And well, it was for them that I broke into a Hydra building."

Nat listens to your story intently, and you swallow dryly before continuing.

"When they captured me, the serum, it... well, it didn't exactly leave me conscientious." You try to explain. "It was like pushing all my memories away, my mind would become completely empty."

“"Is that what they did to Bucky?" Nat questions and you shake your head.

"No, they used electric shock on Bucky." You return with a grimace. "With me, they couldn't hurt me permanently, so they needed something that would make me obey without me being able to heal. It was like being drunk, I guess, only much worse."

“I’m sorry.”

"It 's fine.” You say with a sad smile. “I was dumb enough to go there, i knew the risks.”

“Don’t say that.” Nat asks with a serious voice. “It’s was not your fault they torture kids.”

"And whose fault is it, then?" You retorted, upset, with yourself more than with Nat or anyone else. "My friends for being stubborn idiots? Of Stark for throwing a bomb in my building? I'm tired of looking for reasons to justify what happened to me. Nothing is enough, and I just want to see my friends."

Nat sighs lightly, and raises a hand on the table to reach for yours. You want to hold back the tears, but they are already falling before you can do so.

"I promise we will find your family." She assures you tenderly, and you feel your heart soar at the possibility.

You nod in understanding, taking a deep breath to stop crying.

Nat squeezes your hand, and it takes a moment for you to speak again.

"Wanda." You begin, and almost sob. It has been a long time since you have spoken that name. "She... She must have gotten her powers the same way I did." You say trying to remember everything you witness in Hydra at that moment. "I remember the soldiers talking about the twins being the only ones to survive the stone besides me."

"From Shield records, we know she can manipulate energy and Pietro can run really fast." Nat informs as she releases your hand. She sits thoughtfully for a moment."Maybe because you all got the magic through the same source, you can heal what she can do to Tony's mind. But that's not really my area, maybe you should talk to Thor as well."

You sigh lightly, wiping away the remainder of the tears falling on your face.

"I will." You say. "But I want to find Wan-the twins first." You correct yourself quickly, hoping Nat doesn't notice your flushed cheeks. She does, but says nothing.

"Try to get some rest." She asks as she picks up the teacups. "We have a party coming up, and then Thor is supposed to return to Asgard. I imagine you will want to have a little chat with Bucky before you return to Sokovia."

"I would go back to Sokovia right now if you ask me." You mutter making Nat chuckle lightly. "But I don't want to disturb any of you. I've waited for a long time, I can wait a little longer."

When Nat turns around after putting the glasses in the sink, she has a soft expression.

"You are not a nuisance here, kid." She assures with a smile. "We've just been caught a little by surprise with a new person, but it will be a pleasure to help you find the twins." She says and then has a mischievous expression. "I shouldn't tell you yet, but Steve is pretty excited about the whole thing. He wants you and the twins to join the team eventually."

"Really?" You ask in surprise and Nat just mumbles in agreement, still smiling.

She turns around on the countertop and before she leaves, she turns to you.

"If you ask my opinion, you seem to care a lot about both of them." She says. "I think that no matter how much time has passed, or if they are fighting on opposite sides, she will be happy to see you."

You swallow dryly, looking away.

Nat smiles one last time before leaving and you twiddle your fingers nervously, sitting for a while at the table before returning to your room.

With much to think about, you are surprised that you fall asleep almost instantly as you lie down.

//-//

The Hydra serum is still in your system.

You realize it in a rather embarrassing way actually.

After waking up on the couch, you went to the kitchen.

Bucky tells you that all the team is having a meeting and they will join you two soon, so you just lay against the wall while he reads the newspaper out loud for you.

The Avengers stay in the meeting room for a long time, and don't seem very pleased when they leave, but Tony seems intrigued.

You are surprised that he comes to talk to you as soon as he sees you.

"I didn't thank you for yesterday, kid." He says with a smile. "Whatever you did took away that bad feeling. Now I can work without having to hide that I'm trying to help."

You didn't quite know what to respond, but it didn't matter because Tony was patting you on the shoulder before smiling contentedly at the rest of the team.

"While I figure out a way to decipher the stone, which won't be hard since I'm incredibly smart." He begins his speech, causing the group to let out debauched laughter. "You guys can get busy with whatever old people do for fun. Except you Thunderlord, I'm going to need your help in the lab."

"Wow, Tony Stark asking for help." Thor teases and you watch the interaction with a smile on your lips, moving to join the table. "What a little magic doesn't do to your head, heh?"

"Don't tease me, Thundercat. I'll throw you out of this building, and you won't get any breakfast." He says with false seriousness and you laugh lightly as you pour yourself a cup of coffee. "Hey, kid, give me some too?"

"Ja, Master." You respond mechanically, perhaps even a little sleepily. The Avengers look at you with curiosity and confusion as they see you mechanically pour the coffee, and hand it to Tony, who looks shocked.

"He is not your master, kid." It is Natasha who breaks the silence, and you blink in confusion looking around for a moment.

"R-right." You say. "Sorry about that, Tony. Old habits I guess."

Tony thanks you for the drink, and you think the subject is going to die, but then Natasha keeps looking at you.

"Hey, Y/N, come over here." She asks and you move immediately. Shit. Natasha raises her eyebrow. "Take two steps to the left." Your body obeys. “Now to the right.” She asks and you obey again. This is terrible. The widow looks at you impressed.

"That looks bad." Tony quickly mocks before waving for Thor to accompany him to the lab, justifying that they should get to work soon.

Nat continues to look at you incredulously, but then Steve gets up from the table as well and snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, making you jump in fright slightly. He assumes a worried expression afterwards.

"You are obeying our orders as if we were your masters." He says. "Let's go see Bruce in the lab, he'll want to run some tests."

When you reach the lab, and Steve explains to Bruce what happened at breakfast, you are not surprised that he puts needles in your arm. You hope the news will be good when he finishes assessing your blood.

//-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-//

Tag List> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @aimezvousbrahms // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife

#wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #wanda x reader #Left Behind #wanda maximoff #avengers fanfic #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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nerdsideofthemedia · 3 years

Note

I've come to terms with bb but I still want to know when it was decided to be endgame. I don't buy the "planned from the start" thing since everything in show points to the exact opposite. Maybe the volume commentary after the fact will finally put the matter to rest...or muddle things up further lol. given the likely possibility of them lying ) if it was planned from the start there should have been hints from the start they shouldnt have began hinting at bb halfway into the series ( and attempting to use bb being a same sex ship as a shield and claiming anyone who didnt see evidence just didnt see it because it was a w/w ship makes me roll my eyes "I recognize that BB is likely to become a canon ship. But given that it's a stupid-ass canon ship, I've elected to ignore it."

Have you ever gotten around to reading from start to finish the one giant post dedicated to you that goes into length about your harassment and it is now linked to in all my rwby post in the wordpress blogs, @megashadowdragon (yes, I am almost certain that is your actual real account even if my evidence is circumstancial)? Should I put a link to your tumblr profile too?

You've claimed to be in your late 20s, how the fuck can you be that old and still think it's acceptable to harass someone over a ship? and for months, no less. The only time you left me alone is when I had cut all means to do so. I shouldn’t have to do that. Have you been checking on my account every week for the last month to see when you could strike again? Get the fuck over it. BS sunk for good in early V6 (yes, the Renora/BB parallels are very clearly intentional and no, they didn’t change their minds mid-volume – that would have been likely impossible). V9 is starting in a couple of months.

If the writers told you every single hint they had to reveal BB, you would not believe them, so don’t bother feigning curiosity and pretending you’re open-minded. A person who thinks Adam attacked Yang and associated the word love without any planning on the writers' part is someone who could not care less about what the writers were trying to convey. A person who sees Yang getting associated with the ex and Sun getting associated with the unrequited love doesn’t think it says anything about story is naïve at best. And a person who keeps sending me to a goddamn post (that I’ve even quoted verbatim in one of my posts) that says “Like seriously if I was writing two characters that were only meant to be platonic, I would never write a scene like that. The implication of those words are too strong.” but tries to pretend this only applies to Renora and not BB is a deeply homophobic one. I have yet to understand how the hell you fail to see that that post makes actually a massive amazing argument for BB being planned from very early on.

Nothing can be applied to Renora without applying to BB too.

It wasn’t just the Renora scenes that were written by writers, the BB scenes also were, including the flirting and wink, the ship named Pride, the ex attacking and using the word love, yet classmate for Sun, Yang paralleling Pyrrha when they both helped the object of their affection in the dance arc, the Arkos/BB parallels in V3, etc. The writers decide everything. If they wanted Sun to fight the ex and not be associated with unrequited love, that would have happened. Don’t bother pointing Adam didn’t fight Sun when they were alone, that’s why he used the word classmate because the fight could have happened any way the writers wanted it to happen. If they wanted those 2 to fight (or with Blake) and use the word love, they would have.

The writers decide everything. If they wanted to associate Sun with the ex instead of the unrequited love or if they wanted to associate him with the word love instead of classmate, they would have.

Instead of writing a post responding to all your nonsense for the 124539th time,

let’s decide what to do with you.

I’m guessing reporting you to tumblr is worthless because you harassed me using several accounts that no longer exist (mysteriouslypaleenthusiast, reallydelicateturtle, red2sposts, ravenstarsblog, violetcloudsworld, pleasantbarbarianfire, makofan and now lightningemperorsworld). Let’s not forget the multiple anons and the [email protected] and the [email protected]. Still, reporting to tumblr and see if they have ways to check it’s you and see what they can do about it, not off the table.

Here’s my suggestion: you stop harassing the BB community (the entire community, not just me) and I let bygones be bygones.

Or maybe, I inform your community (yes, I have also saved the usernames of the people you are constantly asking to bring down our posts because you can’t do it yourself – to be fair, neither can they) and let them know what you’ve been up to and how you’ve been using them to harass us. Unless of course, they already know, but they’re garbage so they don’t care. I may be willing to take a shot and find out.

Oh, and you can stop with the nonsense of being offended because I called you out on your homophobia. You don’t want to be called out on it, then stop being homophobic. For starters, stop harassing real LGBTQ+ people because your fictional straight ship didn’t become canon.

If most saw it coming and you didn’t, then the writers didn’t fail, you did. Also, the hints didn’t begin mid-series, they have been there since the red fucking trailer. By the end of V3, a good chunk of the audience had called it. By the end of V6, almost no one thought BB wasn’t going to be endgame.

You are one of the few exceptions. If that doesn’t scream volumes to you about your lack of understanding of storytelling/how much you live in denial, then nothing will. Live in “I’m right and everyone else is wrong” for as long as you want, but don’t ever bother me or anyone else ever again.

For the sake of honesty, I will say that I do not know if @megashadowdragon is the one behind the harassment of several BBers. I know with almost certainty they are behind mine, but I cannot be sure they have other victims since the patterns aren’t the same (at least, not the victims I know of). This been said, add them to the list of suspects.

I suppose I thank you for not being a complete asshole to me for the last 2,5 years, when I actually wrote the post that has you screeching for months. And now I say fuck you for being a complete asshole to me for the last 4 months because of a goddamn ship. Yet you have the fucking gall to pretend we are the toxic ones.

TLDR: act your age (which you claimed is late 20s), and stop harassing people over a ship. No one owes it to you to pretend they did not see BB coming just because you didn’t. No one gives a shit about what you ship. Ship whatever you want as much as you want. Want to have an entire tumblr page just for BS? Go right ahead. What you cannot do is force your garbage ship down someone else’s throat.

#bumbleby #bmblb #harassment #found the culprit #rwby #shipping discourse #yang x blake #blake x yang #lgbtq #stop living up to your initials bsers #lgbt in fiction #lgbt couples

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sturchling · 3 years

Note

Hi, I love your stories and I saw that you accept applications, so I send you one, to see if you like it and you can write it. Somehow, Plagg takes the form of an adult (and handsome) human, and decides to destroy Lila. But not turning him to dust, but revealing his lies. To do this, use magic to pose as a school inspector or replace Bustier as a teacher(whichever you prefer).Tikki helps (either as a human or as a Kwami) Include class (Alya) and Bustier bashing. Im sorry if my english is bad.

Plagg was fed up. This liar was making everything difficult for him. Messing with his holder’s life and trying to force him into a relationship. As much as Plagg pretended not to care, he did care for Adrien. He thought Adrien should just shove the liar away and reveal her to everyone. But Adrien couldn’t just do that. His father had made it abundantly clear that if Adrien did anything to tarnish the way the public perceived Adrien and Lila’s relationship, he would not hesitate to pull Adrien out of school. Adrien’s hands were tied. Plagg had thought that Marinette might have been able to reveal her, cause Marinette had already made several attempts to reveal her. But she hadn’t had any luck in her endeavors and now several members of the class had turned their backs on her. Plagg had enough of this madness. He liked chaos, but it was effecting his holder now. Plagg was going to put this to an end.

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

The next day at school, Plagg slipped out of Adrien’s bag when he wasn’t looking and left the classroom. He entered an empty classroom and started a transformation. It took a lot of energy, but soon Plagg had transformed into a human body. Then Tikki appears from the wall of the classroom, zipping over to him. “You really look like a human. I hope your plan works. I’ll give you a little burst of good luck for this. It won’t last long, since you are all about bad luck, but hopefully it will be enough.” Plagg smirked, feeling her magic wash over him. “Thank you Tikki. Now head back to the class, you won’t want to miss the show.”

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

Once Plagg felt ready, he walked to the class room where his and Tikki’s holder were. He had learned by watching TV that sometimes people come to observe a teacher and make sure they are doing their job. Since Mrs. Bustier doesn’t do a good job, letting Lila harass Marinette and take over the class with her lies everyday, Plagg thought this would be the perfect way to expose the liar and make life easier for Adrien and Marinette. He knocked on the door and Mrs. Bustier quickly opened it, looking confused. “Can I help you?” Plagg smiled, “I’m from the school board, I am here to observe your class today.” Mrs. Bustier, although clearly flustered by this unexpected visit, quickly composed herself. “Of course, come in.” Plagg took a seat at the back of the class, and waited for the opportunity to strike.

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

He didn’t have to wait very long. As they moved on to the next lesson, Lila raised her hand and said “Mrs. Bustier, my wrist is acting up. Could someone take the notes for me? I tried to push through it, but it hurts to much.” Mrs. Bustier smiles, “Of course Lila. Marinette, please take the notes for Lila.” Marinette gets frustrated at this, while Lila smirks. “Why do I have to take the notes for her? Her wrist was working fine a minute ago! She is just lying again!” The class erupted in accusations, flinging insults at Marinette for not leaping to help Lila. “Now Marinette, you have to set the example for the class of what being a good member of a community is. Additionally, it is your responsibility as class rep. Now start taking those notes, not another word.” Lila sighs dramatically and tries to make herself the center of attention again. “I’m sorry Marinette. If only I hadn’t worked so hard helping Prince Ali with his go green charity this last week, maybe I wouldn’t be hurt. Its my fault, I’ll just tough it out.”

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

The class leaped to Lila’s defense, saying it isn’t her fault and that Marinette shouldn’t complain. Soon they were asking about Lila’s trip and the class became the Lila Rossi variety show, the lessons for the day forgotten. Mrs. Bustier was doing nothing to get the class on track, and just let them run wild. Plagg knew this was the time to make his move. He stood from the back, calling out to Mrs. Bustier. “This is how you handle a classroom Mrs. Bustier? This is shameful. Letting the class be derailed by a student who is obviously lying is bad enough, but making another student do the work for this liar without any kind of medical note to prove her wrist is truly hurt is horrible!” The class stared at him, and Mrs. Bustier was trying to defend herself but was unable to come up with anything.

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

Alya stood up, ready to defend her friend. “Sir, with all due respect, Lila isn’t a liar. And Mrs. Bustier is a good teacher!” Plagg turned to face Alya. “Unfortunately miss, you are wrong on both statements. If this is how your teacher handles a classroom, she clearly has no business in a classroom. and your friend there, is an obvious liar. For example, it is well known that Prince Ali’s charities focus on children, such as children’s hospitals. And if she couldn’t have been with him in Achu last week because he was on a diplomatic trip to Spain last week. Additionally, since she started to complain about her wrist, she keeps switches which wrist is the hurt one, notice how she is cradling her left wrist now, but originally it was her right wrist that was hurting.” The class was staring at Lila, as they start to realize that Plagg was right.

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

It didn’t take long for things to unravel from there. Alya tried to defend Lila further by looking up Prince Ali’s charity that Lila had been helping with. But saw that Plagg was right, Prince Ali was only associated with children’s charities. Soon the class was yelling at Lila for lying to them, as Lila desperately looked for a way to get out of this. Even Mrs. Bustier began to have doubts about all of Lila’s stories and took her to Mr. Damocles to set up a meeting with Mrs. Rossi. To say that Mrs. Rossi was furious with her daughter was an understatement. After the truancy and fake medical conditions were revealed, Mr. Damocles had no choice but to expel Lila immediately. And her mother decided to ship her back to Italy so that other members of her family could keep a close eye on Lila until Mrs. Rossi could decide what to do with her.

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

Mrs. Bustier returned to her class, and Plagg finished off his visit by telling Mrs. Bustier that she needs to maintain better control of her class and keep the students from ganging up on one another. He also told her that he expects her to check any stories about absences or medical conditions with a student’s family before making accommodations that may effect the other students. Once he was sure that Mrs. Bustier would at least try to shape up, he left the classroom to ‘submit his report to the school board’. He returned to the empty class room and returned to his normal state. He went back to Adrien’s bag, happy that his plan to rid himself and his holder of the liar had worked. No one messes with Plagg’s holder.

#ml #ml fic #ml fanfic #ml salt #ml salt fic #ml salt fanfic #bustier salt #lila rossi #Lila exposed #lila exposed fic #lila salt #lila gets exposed #miraculous fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous salt #miraculous salt fic #miraculous salt fanfic #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir

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ladyeliot · 3 years

Photo

It’s been a long, long time

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never knew what fate had in store for you, as if it was testing what it had offered you one day it took away from you the next. It was almost four years after Steve gave himself up to save the world, but you had never given up hope of being with him again.

Warnings: Angst. Disappearance. Fluff ending.

Word count: 2883

A/N: Captain America First Avenger / Avengers Endgame. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Song: It’s been a long, long time - Harry James

1949.

The rumours of his possible return were fading with time, but hopes were not falling.

Nearly four years had passed since the end of the Second World War, and the consequences were soon felt worldwide, especially by those who had survived that tragic period. You had been present from start to finish, being a potent participant in the covert operations linking the US and the UK. Although you had not been on the front line fighting as a soldier, you had been on the front line commanding the actions they would take. In 1939 you became a member of the British Royal Military, then a recommendation from a superior officer led to you joining the Special Operations Executive, a British spy agency, changing your destiny, causing MI5 to contact you, and then you were seconded to the Strategic Scientific Reserve, a top-secret Allied war agency during World War II, created by President Roosevelt. Too many things happened in a single year, too many things that would change the course of your history, but the most important was yet to happen.

In 1943 you were assigned to Colonel Chester Phillips' training base, known as Camp Lehigh, where you were assigned to supervise the candidate division of Project Renaissance, the project that changed everything. Project Renaissance was a highly secret project run by the United States Government. Its aim was to create super soldiers to be deployed during World War II against the Axis powers, thus having a great advantage in strategic warfare, however things didn't go as planned and they only had one success, a young man from Brooklyn named Steve Rogers.

You could never deny that you didn't notice him the first moment you saw him, he instantly caught your attention in two ways. The first of them was his physical shape, he stood out for his small stature compared to the other cadets, and his physical appearance looked sickly, although his medical record didn't say anything about it. On the other hand, the other aspect that impressed and inspired you was his courage and endurance to face each of the tests they had to pass, as well as his cunning, all of which won you over, as well as the generals of the project, as he was selected for the Renaissance project. The time you spent together at Camp Leigh made you realise the determination and humility he possessed, traits that the other members of the group, or any other man you had met before, possessed only to a slight degree.

The day the experiment was carried out, that is, the injection of the Super Soldier serum into Steve was another turning point in your life, the young man who went into that machine was not the same as the one who would come out of it, at least for everyone present, a human being went in and a super soldier came out, although for you he was still the same Steve Rogers with 30 centimetres more height and greater muscle mass. From then on he became the secret weapon that would overthrow Hitler, as the leader of the project, Dr. Erskine, was killed which meant that Steve was the only one of his kind.

You would have liked to have been able to say that your relationship was moving towards a more effective environment, but you were really living in a period of war, plus your character did not easily fit in with the word love, it never really did, or rather, you had never shown any interest in any man. You were rude, you had suffered enough harassment in your job, a job by and for men, to become insensitive in several cases. You were selective with your friends and also with the people you could trust, that's why every time you felt any affection for someone you stopped it, and that's what happened with Steve at the beginning.

Frankly, there were not too many moments to show your affection for each other, nor to enrich it, but every occasion that brought you together, there were certain feelings in the air that were never expressed in words. You encouraged him to be more than a lab rat or a fair hand for the soldiers at the front, you also helped him from your position with the missions, which after his triumph in rescuing the soldiers of the 107th infantry, were assigned to him. You complemented each other, you understood each other in many aspects that no one had ever understood, you had faith in him and he in you, that is why deep inside you were waiting for the day when the war would end to discover what it would be like to be able to dance with him without any worries around you, but it was not that simple.

As if the universe itself was mocking you, everything it had offered you was taken away in a breath. Even if you had never extrapolated it, your heart shrank every time he marched on a mission in enemy territory, you used to find yourself behind the controls of the base of operations that commanded his missions waiting for his voice or news from him to indicate what the situation was, but the last time what you saw was different. It was all a consequence of your attack on HYDRA HQ, you had worked out a strategy to take out their leader, the Red Skull, Steve was inside and you later came in with the assault guard and became part of the operation. Things had gone a little shaky during the operation, as the Red Skull managed to gain access to a ship and almost escaped from the place, but at that moment you appeared as if you were a breath of air together with Colonel Chester Phillips to offer him the last chance for Steve to finish him off and gain access to the inside of the ship that was about to escape, but not before sharing your first and last kiss. Every day you remember the last words you said to him in person "Go get him." before watching him jump into the plane and disappear into the snowy mountains.

After that, the ship became a direct path to death unbeknownst to you. A few hours later, from the command post, you managed to maintain a direct connection with the ship, specifically with Steve who was still inside it.

"Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?" you all heard from the intercom.

"Steve, is that you? Are you alright?" your heart raced as it did every time he was away from you on a mission.

"Y/N! Schmidt's dead.

That brought a breath of relief that neither of you had experienced for a long time, you could see a little light at the end of the tunnel that was getting closer and closer to you, but what you heard next put the light out again.

"What about the plane?" you asked still worried about his situation.

"That's a little bit tougher to explain," Steve's words were choppy.

It really was complicated, the plane was loaded with explosive devices and was clearly headed for New York City, that meant there was only one possibility and you all knew what it was. You tried to talk him out of it, to find a new solution, but time was running out.

"Y/N, this is my choice," a lump formed in your throat at those words. "Y/N?"

"I'm here," you managed to say with watery eyes and a hand to your lips.

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance," you heard through the intercom, as a sharp gust of air rushed in between his words.

"Alright," you hid a soft sob. "A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."

"You got it," he said firmly, making it seem real that he was going to show up there on Saturday.

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"

"You know, I still don't know how to dance," a wistful smile appeared on your face at his words.

"I'll show you how. Just be there," you said almost begging him.

"We'll have the band play somethin' slow," Steve picked up the pace of his words, "I'd hate to step on your...

That was the last time you heard his voice, the line connecting the intercom to Steve went static with a soft continuous noise, that's when the tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

"Steve? Steve? Steve?"

Of course, life puts us all to the test, we believe we need redemption for the acts committed in the past, that often makes us lose hope that better times will come. Almost four years have passed since those last events, since you shared your first and last kiss with your Captain America, since you heard his last words and since you felt that thing called love. Now your life had been turned upside down, you had dreamed for too long of meeting him, of seeing his face again and not only through those war films, but your life went on and you couldn't keep yourself stuck thinking about him, that's why you had decided to leave the Strategic Scientific Reserve and go into a new project with Howard Stark, called S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was unusual for the month of January to have that warm morning out, although it was actually quite comforting as it had brightened up your day, and even when you got home you opted to start cooking to the rhythm of whatever song was playing on the radio, which was unusual for you. The open windows allowed the sun's rays to stream into the living room, offering that homely touch that the little house in the middle of a residential neighbourhood lacked. Due to your countless projects and missions in the SSR you had not been able to enjoy home life as much as you would have liked, although it was really your decision, that house was too quiet and too big for you alone, although the radio offered you the company you sometimes needed.

As if it were a special event you had brought out the table linen and arranged the table in the parlour to eat there for the first time, normally you used the table in the kitchen, for you did not waste too much time on your meals, but this day was a new beginning, a new year, a good time to work out new habits. You opted to open a bottle of wine, which had been a gift from your dear friend Howard Stark, and poured yourself a glass while you waited for the chicken to make its acquaintance in the oven. The rhythmic melody of Nat King Cole along with your glass of wine lifted spirits that hadn't been this high for some time.

"Love is all that I can give to you," you intoned as you walked around the kitchen.

The midday seemed to be going smoothly, until a crashing noise from the front door brought you to a screeching halt. "Ogh, Mrs. Foster," you said to yourself before taking a sip from your glass of wine to fill your spirits. Mrs Foster was the neighbour from across the street who was always knocking on your door whenever she could, hoping to whisper about the other neighbours and glean as much information about you as possible, the funny thing was that she always barged in at the most inopportune times.

"I'm coming!" you exclaimed, taking off your apron and placing it on the counter. "I'm there!"

When you reached the front door you took five seconds to exhale the air inside you, position your dress correctly, take another breath, roll your eyes and expose a wide grin before you very quickly lowered the door handle. We've been talking before about all the turning points that changed your life and shaped your destiny, okay, that was one of them, maybe the most important one of all, the one that set the rest of your life on track.

"Hello Mrs. Fos-!"

Your voice disappeared, your vocal cords seemed to break at that moment, your wide, false smile also vanished as if it had never been on your face, your eyes seemed to have no eyelids and your lungs ran out of air, leaving you breathless. What you saw when you opened that door was your whole life, every moment appeared in front of you as if it were a frame. They say that happens when you are about to die, but it happened to you when the person you had loved had returned from the dead and was prostrate before you. You couldn't tell whether your reaction was the most humane or what someone else would have done in your place because you had never met anyone who had. Soldiers sometimes took long months to return home after the war ended, but it had taken Steve almost four years to do so.

Perhaps there had been hundreds or thousands of times you had imagined that moment, and now you didn't know what to do, your limbs were stiff, you were grateful for it or you would have collapsed in those moments. You kept holding the doorknob tightly, while he stood there on your porch staring at you, not knowing what to do. They were the longest minutes of your whole life, or maybe they were only a few seconds, you didn't know how time worked in those moments, but that didn't matter, your emotions recovered when you looked into his eyes, those blue eyes that you had dreamed of so many nights and they were watery, that was the sign that told you that this was not a dream, it was real life.

The air opened again and passed through your lungs in the form of a gasp, you shared the wateriness of his eyes in yours and in a moment you were wrapped in his arms. You could feel him again, or rather you could feel him around you for the first time. His arms were around your back bringing your body closer to his.

"You're... here." you murmured against his chest almost afraid that your words would make him disappear again.

"I'm home," he whispered against your forehead before kissing it and pulling away to look at your face.

It really was him, you noticed the odd changed feature, as if the years had passed him by more quickly, but there was no doubt that it was Steve. He placed his hands on your cheeks cradling your face, that sensation made you close your eyes as you placed your hands on his. Gingerly, you felt his breath collide against you and the longing for his lips that had haunted you for so many years came to an end.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

"No, you're home," you murmured, taking his hand and bringing his palm to your lips.

The open windows of the living room let out the melody of the radio, as if it were one of those Hollywood feature films with its own soundtrack. For a few long minutes you stood there on the porch of your house, oblivious to everything around you, oblivious to curious stares or if the chicken was burning in the oven, there was nothing more relevant than the two of you.

After a few minutes without taking your eyes off each other you took his hand and went inside your home, there were no unnecessary questions, no comments that could break the moment, your gazes were pleased to observe each other and as if your thoughts were connected and the person in charge of playing the songs on the radio knew it, one of Steve's favourite songs began to play. Harry James' voice came into the room, giving you the moment you had wanted for four years in your case, but for Steve it had been many more.

“Never thought that you would be

Standing here so close to me

There's so much I feel that I should say

But words can wait until some other day”

His arm found position around your waist and your face found position on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat work to the rhythm of the melody, you could never have imagined ever feeling like this again, you would have made a pact with the devil on too many occasions to feel it. It was so unreal that you had to lift your face from his chest to look at his face again, to find out if it really was Steve in front of you, it was.

“Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long, long time

Haven't felt like this, my dear

Since I can't remember when

It’s been a long, long time”

Life had offered you a new opportunity to enjoy it together, and you were never going to miss it.

“You'll never know how many dreams

I've dreamed about you

Or just how empty they all seemed without you

So kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time”

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jooniyah · 4 years

Text

Poison Apple : The Second

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem Reader ; Min Yoongi x Fem Reader

AU: Yandere!au, Moneylender!Taehyung

Genre: Angst, Mature, Smut rated R

Warnings: NON CON, Hard Yandere behavior, kidnapping, implied forced pregnancy, emotional abuse, violence, blackmail, character death, voluntary starvation, degradation and physical abuse, slapping, cum play, manipulation, profanity, smut, blood, knives, guns, assassins, and murder.

Word count: 22.91 K

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions of the characters in this fiction. This is to be treated as pure fantasy, and should not be misconstrued to be demeaning the idols in any way. If any of the above warnings cause you discomfort, kindly refrain from reading.

This is a non-consensual setting, please proceed only if you are not triggered by the warnings. All warnings for Chapter 1 apply. I repeat, please be sure to read all the warnings carefully.

Author’s note: This is the second chapter of the Poison Apple Trilogy. Please make sure to read Part 1 before proceeding.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

The man clad in black adjusted the scope of his M107 rifle, making sure his reticle was in perfect position. As he waited for his target, he did a quick sweep of the terraces of the adjacent buildings. No one was about. A faint slippery sheen of dew covered the cracked floors of the terrace he was positioned on. Any time now. He looked at the neon digits glowing on his watch.

Overhead, his skilled ears could pick out the droning of an approaching airplane. His skin felt clammy, possibly due to the side effect of his beta-blockers. Well, he’d finish the job and go have a well-earned vacation. Cold hands weren’t a big side effect, not when his pills gave him razor-sharp precision at shooting. The gangway of the cruise liner was slowly opened to allow passengers on board. The time had come.

He carefully combed his eyes through the influx of passengers, seeking the one face he was looking for. He didn’t even need to take the photo out of his pocket. He had committed the face to memory. And no disguise could fool him, he was ready for everything the target might try to pull off.

Time ticked on. People were walking on the gangway, boarding the ship, waving to their loved ones. But the target was not to be found anywhere. The described person hadn’t arrived, and the sniper had assumed that he could catch the target on the gangway. But as his professional eyes raked through the humans on board, he knew he was wasting his time. He remained in position, watching on as the ship sounded the final horn before gliding smoothly out onto the sea. He dialed the only number on his burner phone.

“Yes?” The tone sounded shrill and eager.

“A no-show. I repeat, it was a no-show.”

“What? Are you sure you didn’t miss-“?

“I never miss a target.”

There was a deep frustrated sigh.

“Fine. Abort and return.”

The sniper proceeded to pack up his gear and prepared to leave.

On the other end of the line, the figure exhaled sharply, muttering curses and bemoaning the failure. Just then, a dark outline materialized in the doorway, causing the figure to jump up, body numb with defeat.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“I won’t repeat my question again, Mrs.Min.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Then, answer me.”

You remained motionless, staring at the hard-grey table, fingers interweaved.

“Well?” The officer raised his voice, rapping on the table.

“I told you the truth.”

The man scoffed, leaning back in his chair.

“Listen, lady. You know your story sounds shit stupid, right?”

Your voice broke into a whisper.

“But it is true.”

He rolled his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“Mr. Kim killed your husband? For you? He’s obsessed with you?”

“Yes.”

“You are giving yourself way too much credit, lady.”

You gritted your teeth, refusing to look at him. He clicked his tongue.

“Well, if your absurd story is true, where is your husband’s body?”

“I don’t know.”

He tsked under his breath. “So what proof do you have to tie Mr.Kim to this alleged murder?”

“None.”

He got up abruptly, shaking his head in irritation. He pointed a finger at you.

“You’re wasting my time. And for the record, Mr.Kim has been nothing but helpful in this investigation.”

You slowly raised your head. “What? What did he say?”

“Do you good to hear it and weave another absurd story, wouldn’t it?”

You watched him hesitate at the door, his hand resting on the handle. “If you are so innocent, Mrs. Min, why didn’t you report your husband missing?”

An angry fuse went off in your brain.

“Why would I report him missing, if he was already dead?”

“Can you afford an attorney, Mrs.Min?”

“I-What?”

The officer stared at you, pursed his lips, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The court-appointed attorney was a tall, curvy woman in her early thirties. She looked calm and had an air of high maintenance about her. You wondered how she could have accepted to defend you. Maybe the woman did pro-bono work. She probably had rich clients. Rich. You were once rich. When Yoongi was alive. Yoongi. A bitter feeling coursed through your heart.

Another detective accompanied the officer who had previously interrogated you. They settled across you and the attorney, scraping chairs on the floor as they took their seats.

“Well, Mrs. Min,” the officer began, “we understand you have mortgaged all your property.”

“Yes.”

“So, what happened to the money?” The officer flicked through papers on a clipboard. “50 million dollars, wasn’t it?”

The second detective pushed himself forward. “More importantly, where is your husband?”

A dull throb started in your temples and seared across your skull. You could shout yourself hoarse that Yoongi was dead, but none of these people would believe you.

When he received no reply, the detective persisted.

“You got rid of him because you wanted the money to yourself, didn’t you?”

The attorney interjected in a harsh tone.

“My client will not answer that.”

“You hid the money someplace, so you could go and retrieve it later.”

“Officer, you will not harass my client like this.”

“I won’t, if she agrees to speak the truth.”

The woman turned to you; harsh impatience evident on the curl of her lips.

“Not a word, Y/N.”

You nodded weakly. You had told everything to the cops already. No one believed in you, not one soul believed that Kim Taehyung murdered Min Yoongi to obtain you. It was nightmarish to go on a walk, people threw such malicious looks your way. What had you ever done to deserve this?

The officers poked and prodded for some more time, and finally packed their papers and left. While you walked out of the interrogation room, your attorney asked you to join her for lunch. You attempted to decline; you weren’t in the mood for lunch. Or anything for that matter.

But you had nowhere to return to, except straight into Taehyung’s world. It was better to prolong the journey back. Besides, the attorney told you that she wanted to discuss a few case details with you over lunch. Automatically, your feet started following her.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The minute you sat down to lunch, you understood that it was a ruse. She neither ordered food for herself nor did she suggest you to. As soon as the waiter turned, she dipped her head low and spoke rapidly:

“I hear that they are bringing in a solid witness to testify against you.”

The surprise caught you off-guard.

“But I didn’t do anything. What is the person going to testify about?”

“That you knew Yoongi was mortgaging your property and you jumped on the opportunity to get the money.”

“But that’s insane! I never-“

There was a haughty roll of her eyes that sparked bitter anger in you. She looked at you as if you were kidding.

“Oh, come on, doll. You can tell me the truth. I’m the only person you can trust.”

Her judging gaze made you want to punch her in the face.

“You think I – I am guilty? You don’t trust me?” Your tone grew louder and a few people turned to glance at you. “Why the hell did you agree to defend me then?”

“Pipe down,” she hissed, looking around herself self-consciously. “They have a witness and a story that sounds better than yours.”

“And that means I’m guilty? Because my story sounds ridiculous?”

She shrugged as if she didn’t care. She took her phone out, swiping on it mindlessly. There was nothing except for the clink of glasses and cutlery around you before she spoke again.

“I want you to consider a plea deal.”

“And why would I, when I’m clearly not guilty?” You folded your hands defiantly, surveying her with a hard stare.

“This is not a simple Missing Person search. You are a person of interest in this case as a possible murderer.”

“They haven’t yet found the body.” Your tongue had a metallic taste when you uttered the word.

“Yet.” She let the words sink in. “But they have proof that you stole the money.”

“Stole? That’s my husband’s money! I was taking it to save him.”

“You know what, Y/N? This story is so silly. You are going overboard with the obsession angle.” She leaned back and lit a cigarette. “You know what really happened?”

She paused and exhaled smoke in your direction, tilting her head to look at you more closely.

“You knew your husband owed Kim Taehyung money. You urged him to mortgage your property. He was probably unwilling. So, you pledged all your property and got the money. The money was in your house. It was easy cash. Min Yoongi was anyway going to be penniless after that, so-“

“Stop it!” Your scream turned a lot of heads.

“Allow me to finish.”

“No, stop it! Stop it right now!”

She smirked lazily. “-So why lose the cash and end up with him? It’s easy, you killed him and took off with the money. You stashed the money and never intended to show up again. Not before someone reported Yoongi missing, that is.”

“It wasn’t like that! You are fucking wrong!”

She blew a smoke ring, not minding your distress in the least. “But that is what the prosecution is bringing to court. And they have a witness who saw you lugging all the money and fleeing the house in your nightclothes.” She paused to laugh. “Couldn’t wait to even get properly dressed?”

Her phone chimed, and she looked down. Just as quickly, she grabbed her coat and briefcase, making haste to get out. You stood up to follow, but she laid a hand on your shoulder and sat you down again.

“He’ll be coming now. Remember what I said, the prosecutor’s going to have a field day with your story.”

She was out of earshot even before you could frame the words: “He? Who?”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You knew who was walking towards you before you even saw his face. Him. The man who had killed your husband. The man who you were trying to prolong going back to. Kim Taehyung.

He weaved his way through the tables at the restaurant, reaching your side like a piece of metal drawn to a magnet. He took his Aviators off, mussing his dark bangs out of his eyes as he sat down opposite you.

You got up to leave, and his hand shot through the air to grip your forearm.

“Sit down, honey.” His face was open and pleasant, but his eyes were unreadable. “You haven’t had lunch yet.”

The grip tightened, and you settled back down, a scowl on your face as you did so. You never dulled your scorching glare while he called the waiter and ordered food. After the waiter left, he turned to you.

“It’s been two weeks since it happened, Y/N. How much longer do you want me to wait?”

Tears pricked your eyes. Two weeks before, you had kissed Yoongi in Taehyung’s basement for what you hadn’t known would be the last time ever. You had been taken to another cottage of Taehyung’s after it happened. You had refused to eat or talk; you had been consumed in grief. Suddenly, a day ago, Wo Bin had tossed you in a car, and he had dropped you off at a hotel room. That same afternoon, the cops had found you and taken you in for questioning.

“Y/N?” Taehyung’s deep voice broke into your thoughts. “I’m talking to you.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you.”

“I’d rather go to prison; I’ll at least be free from your clutches.”

He snickered, flashing a boxy smile at you. If you didn’t know better, you’d call that an innocent grin. He leaned towards you, the smile still turning up the corners of his mouth.

“You? In prison? Oh , baby, that’s not a place for a princess like you.” His gaze dropped down before he looked into your eyes again. “Especially a pregnant princess.”

He watched the way your face twisted. The waiter brought the food, laying down the plates swiftly before you. Taehyung smiled at him in amiable politeness, waited for him to leave and resumed without missing a beat:

“You will have to give birth in prison, you’ll lose your baby after 18 months anyway. You don’t have relatives, so your baby will most definitely go into the system for foster care. Do you want that?”

You had no answer. You hadn’t thought of it ever happening, to be honest.

“It’s also possible you’ll be sentenced to many long years in prison. By the time you get out, your baby would be an adult.”

He saw the way your lips trembled as you digested the facts he was presenting. He bent down and sipped a spoonful of his soup. You looked at his bent head, weighing your options.

“It’s better than-“

Before you could say any further, he cut you short, raising his hand.

“I must say I look forward to adopting your baby.”

He grinned smoothly as he saw you sputter in dismay. God, you were so cute.

“What? Why would you? You don’t care about Yoongi’s baby.”

“Well, true, but the baby is part bastard and part angel. I like to focus on the fact that half of you will be with me as I await your return.”

He slurped the noodles in his soup with a flourish. “I can pull some strings to get the baby assigned to me.” He wiped his mouth with a tissue delicately, watching you the entire time.

“Don’t make me hate you even more, Kim Taehyung.”

He reached over the table, trying to take your hand, but you flicked it away. He sighed and shook his head.

“Eat up, Y/N. That attorney of yours kept you waiting without even offering food.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. She was probably working for him. He seemed to have a lot of people wound around his little finger. Except you. You fell silent, eating without looking up once.

The table was silent until he cleared his throat.

“I want you to think all this through and decide if you want me to help you.”

You scoffed at him. “Help me? How? Do you own the Justice Department too?”

He looked unfazed. A tiny smile played on his lips. “Eat and we’ll talk at the hotel.”

You fell silent again, but the question wormed its way out of your mouth despite your control.

“Why am I staying in that hotel? You didn’t take me to your house.”

“Because you mortgaged your house, you ran away with the money, and I don’t know you apart from the occasional meetings in the elite parties. In the past, when poor Mr. Min was alive, of course.”

“You don’t know me? Are you fucking kidding me, Taehyung?”

His boxy smile returned. Though these were not exactly favorable circumstances, the fact that you were so prettily angry made his heart warm. You were mad at him because he said he didn’t know you? A small jealous part of his heart sang in joy. Even if those words were uttered with hate, he was certain you would love him if you got to know him better. Until then, the subtle undercurrent would have to suffice.

“Like I said, we’ll talk about this at the hotel, Y/N.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

When you reached the hotel room, Taehyung opened the door, motioning for you to go in.

“After you, my darling.”

Once you were inside, he took off your coat, brushing his fingers against your bare arms, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. You could hear him sigh heavily behind you, and you spun around to face him.

“Get on with it.”

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “You mean, get on with making love to you?”

You swatted the hand that was ghosting your shoulder, your tone drenched in spite.

“You know what I meant, Taehyung. What the hell were you talking about at the restaurant?”

He pouted his lips and his face fell. “Oh. That.” He sighed again, walking over to the bed.

He sat down, patting the bed to indicate that you were supposed to sit down too. When you didn’t comply, he yanked you by the arm, making you sit in his lap. A hand reached to your side to pinch you in case you squirmed. By then, you knew better than to resist. He rested the side of his head on your shoulder, whistling softly.

“Baby, you’re going to be sent away for a long time.”

“For what? Don’t play your games with me, Kim Taehyung.”

He turned you so you were facing him. There was animation in his eyes, so unlike the usual blank stare. It looked almost as if he were sad.

“You’re going to be tried for the murder of your husband.”

You tried to jump up, and a sharp pinch stilled you into position. “But I didn’t kill him.”

He used his free hand to brush away the tears, his touch feathery light and exceptionally gentle.

“Even if they don’t find the body, there’s a lot of evidence for reasonable doubt, and that’s enough for the jury.”

A sudden tic made your lips tremble. He held you patiently, waiting for it to subside.

“What evidence?”

His eyes softened.

“Some blood. DNA.” He watched your expression as he added: “The fact that you mortgaged the property, got the money, and fled.”

“But I didn’t-” Your brows furrowed for a second before it struck you. “Bong Ju.”

He nodded without answering. He watched you work things out in your mind. He always admired your smartness. But after Yoongi died, you had become kind of slow at thinking through stuff. He wished you would get better quickly so he could pounce on you.

“So, what happens next? You kill my husband, put me in prison, and then take my child?”

He didn’t say anything, quietly looking at the beaded tears on the corners of your eyes.

“I can help you. I can make it all go away.”

Something made you squirm on his lap. To your utter horror, you discovered what it was. You hit his jaw, making him gasp. Pushing yourself off of his lap, you screamed, boiling with rage.

“You’re hard? This is making you hard? What kind of sick bastard are you?”

The scream didn’t have any effect on him. He kept staring at you, eyes burning with primal hunger. Watching you stand before him, face red in anger and nose flaring, made him feel things.

His voice was soft, almost inaudible. “You do that to me.” He reached out to grasp your hand again, and pulled you down so you were almost straddling him.

“Listen Y/N. You have made me wait long enough. I will say this only once, so you better pay attention.”

You struggled in his arms, trying to get away from him. But a hand firmly cupped your jaw and pulled you close to his face.

“Fucking. Listen.”

You nodded wordlessly, and he relaxed his hold on your jaw.

“Two scenarios. One, plead guilty and go to prison. They’ll try you for the murder too. Two, plead innocent and still go to prison. I’ve planted enough evidence to support both scenarios. And you’ll lose the baby in both cases.”

He looked at you chastely, eyes wide and sincere.

“I have both the prosecutor and the defense attorney ready to handle it either way. Any proof of your innocence turns up, your attorney will quash it down. She is very thorough. Your friend Jung Hoseok is already being watched.”

“You bought both the prosecutor and the attorney?”

“Money, baby. It’s what drives them all.”

“And? You want me to dance to your tune, don’t you? What is it?”

He smiled again, and the smile reached his eyes.

“Three, you walk away from all this. Innocent. Your baby lives.”

“In exchange for what?”

His eyes sparkled, and his hands softly squeezed the side of your hips.

“Marry me.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“What do you want, Se Jong?”

The man perched on the hood of the car didn’t flinch.

Wo Bin exhaled in irritation. He had other pressing matters to deal with. He had errands to run for his boss. The white folded paper was still in his pocket, making his mind itch to get on with it. The boss had given him the paper and asked him to find the man matching what was written on it. Strange order, but his boss probably had his reasons. He shook the thoughts away and focused on the man who was eating his time.

“Unlike you, I have work to do, Se Jong. Spit it out.”

The man addressed as Se Jong shrugged his shoulders, leaning back lazily on the car’s windshield.

“I don’t know man.”

Wo Bin ground his teeth.

“Why did you ask to meet me then?”

“I want more.”

“You already get more than enough.”

“Not as much as you do.”

Wo Bin’s nose flared. Having served in the military, it always hurt his pride to be compared to a civilian goon.

“I am not a bank robber like you, Se Jong. You’re not even a good shot. It’s a mystery why the boss still has you around.”

It was already a known fact that Kim Taehyung only employed the best of the best. Wo Bin often wondered what a dimwit like Se Jong was doing in his Taehyung’s fleet.

“Banker. How do you think the boss stashes his money if he doesn’t have people in the bank pulling strings for him?”

“Get to the point, Jong.”

“I said it already I want more. I want you to talk to the boss for me.”

“Consider it never done.”

Wo Bin turned his back and stormed away, leaving the man on the car seething in anger. Little did he know that Se Jong wasn’t as harmless as he seemed.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The courtroom was jam-packed. Your attorney had told you that the first sitting was just to warm the jury up to the facts of the case. But the sheer number of people in the gallery made you feel intimidated. Well, it was a case concerning the Min family. More importantly, Min Yoongi’s wife was on trial.

The prosecutor, Kang Minsook, made his opening statements, addressing the jury and accusing you of grand larceny. You watched on, neurons firing in your brain, as the prosecutor spun a splendidly woven tale of how you married Yoongi for money, felt cheated when he fell into debt, decided it was time to take the money for yourself, and fled.

Kim Taehyung was seated in the spectator area, dressed in his best of blacks, watching on as the prosecutor piled wrong information, wrapping up the lies smoothly with a few bits of truth so that it looked dirty, but believably so.

Your attorney made her opening statements, but they fell flat in front of the prosecutor’s powerful story of lies. One glance at the jury told you that none of them were buying the version of the case that the defense was presenting.

The judge turned to you.

“Mrs. Min, in this accusation of grand larceny, how do you plead?”

Your eyes swept over the jury. No soft glances were aimed towards you. You then looked at Taehyung, sitting with an air of regality as if he were presiding over the courtroom. Stretching yourself to your full height, you replied quietly:

“Not guilty, your Honor.”

A smile slowly spread across Taehyung’s lips.

The prosecutor was on his feet as soon as he got permission to start.

“I’d like to call the prosecution’s first witness, your Honor.”

You strained to see who was the witness. A tall man you knew only too well rose from the bench and took the witness stand. It was surely not the bald man you were expecting to see.

“Mr. Kim, please state your name and occupation for the sake of the court.”

The man looked straight ahead, flexing the muscles in his jaw. It made him look arrogant, giving off vibes of a man not to be messed with.

“I am Kim Namjoon. I’m the Executive Director of Park and Kim Motors Inc.”

“And how were you related to Mr. Min?”

“We were family friends.”

“Please elaborate on the nature of your relationship, Mr. Kim.”

The witness gazed at Minsook, and suddenly his eyes wore a brooding look.

“Min Yoongi and I were friends through our parents’ societal ties. I used to play Chess every evening with Yoongi before he got engaged.”

“So, your friendship with Mr. Min goes long back.” The prosecutor stopped to wipe his spectacles, leaving you wondering what he was up to.

“May I ask, Mr. Kim, as to why you stopped playing Chess with Mr. Min after his engagement?”

Your counsel shot to her feet.

“Objection, your Honor. The prosecutor is wasting the court’s time with irrelevant questions.”

Minsook looked at the judge with surprised eyes.

“But it is a relevant question, your Honor.”

“Overruled.”

Smiling broadly in a way that made your insides turn, the man turned again to his witness.

“Well, Mr. Kim?”

Kim Namjoon stared at you, so much malice concentrated in his eyes.

“His fiancée didn’t want me spending too much time with Yoongi.”

There was a pause. And then with a condescending tone, the next question was thrown:

“Maybe there was an innocent reason, Mr. Kim? Maybe the defendant wanted all the attention to herself?”

Once again, your counsel stood up with a loud “Objection, speculation, your Honor.”

“Sustained.”

With a wicked grin, the prosecutor threw a careless apology to the judge, looking at the witness expectantly.

“I don’t know. But now I know she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed.”

“Why exactly do you say that, Mr. Kim?”

Namjoon glared at you again.

“She didn’t even bother to search for Yoongi. She ran away.”

The prosecutor took a sealed evidence bag in his hand, turning so he was facing both the witness and the jury.

“And who filed the Missing Person report about Mr. Min?”

“I did. She didn’t. Because she was too busy counting the money.”

“Objection!”

“The prosecution will advise their witness not to make assumptive statements.”

But the damage had already been done.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You sat and listened as your husband’s best friend told the court how Yoongi had been increasingly agitated in the months prior to his disappearance.

“He was in so much trouble, it was clear as day,” he said.

“And did he tell you what was bothering him, Mr. Kim?”

Namjoon clenched his jaw again. “He was missing his mother very badly.”

The wicked gleam in Minsook’s eyes returned.

“What happened to his mother, Mr. Kim?”

“His mother had been institutionalized. His wife and mother were not on good terms. It broke Yoongi’s heart to part with his mother like that.”

“So, Mr. Min’s wife sent her mother-in-law away?”

The jury watched Namjoon affirm that with a curt “Yes.” Your attorney made no attempt to object. Things were beginning to look dark for you.

“Why do you think the elder Mrs. Min was sent away, Mr. Kim?”

The judge waited for your counsel to object citing speculation. But she made no move. With a withering glance, the judge advised the defense to not indulge in speculation.

The question was rephrased with a sly grin.

“What did Mr. Min tell you about his mother being sent away?”

Namjoon looked at the jury with sincere eyes.

“He said that his wife was in danger because of his mother. Mrs. Min accused her mother-in-law of trying to stab her with a knife.”

“Did Mr. Min say that the accusation was correct?”

“He only arrived in time to separate them. So, there’s no proof of who instigated the fight.”

Your palms started sweating. A delicate web of lies was being spun around you, and the spider at the center of it all sat watching with quiet enthusiasm.

“Did you know that Mr. Min was in huge financial debt?”

Taehyung watched the witness shake his head, followed by a curt “No.” He slid his hand to his pocket where his phone buzzed. There was a single message on the notification shade.

“Done.”

He looked back at the man who was talking, turning his phone’s display off and allowing himself a smile.

The prosecutor was going on.

“Why didn’t Mr. Min confide in you, if you were such close friends? He could have even borrowed from you.”

Namjoon shifted in his seat, his thick brows crumpling slightly as he processed the question.

“I don’t remember exactly, but I heard in passing that his wife shopped extravagantly. I assume it was his wife who wrung him dry. So, he was probably unable to confide in me about his wife.”

The prosecutor beamed.

“Naturally.”

Your attorney interrupted with an objection citing speculation, which was sustained.

At that, the prosecutor produced another plastic bag of evidence.

“These are the receipts that prove Mrs. Min purchased exquisite jewels, your Honor.” He flourished the bag at the jury, eyes bright with emotion. “Each purchase cost more than the previous one, amounting to millions of dollars.”

Wearing a proud smile, the prosecutor thanked the witness and gave your attorney the nod to cross-examine the witness. The woman slowly got up, adjusting her robes as she approached the witness box.

“Let me start with the easiest question, Mr. Kim.” Her face took on an innocent expression. “Wasn’t Mr. Min already very rich? Why would he ever get into debt? He already owned the Min Group.”

Namjoon looked at her in confusion. “He didn’t own the Min Group. His father did.”

“The late Mr. Min?”

“Yes. Yoongi was only the executive director of the Min Group until his father died.”

You watched your attorney look suddenly uncomfortable. You didn’t understand the need for this line of questioning. The jury looked confused too. Until the next question tore through the silence.

“How did the late Mr. Min die, Mr. Kim?”

“He was involved in a car accident. He died of multiple organ failure.”

“So, both of Mr. Min’s parents were out of the picture shortly after he married the defendant?”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Was your own attorney suggesting that-?

“Yes.” Namjoon’s voice interrupted the thoughts racing through your mind.

The judge looked sharply at your counsel. Was she out of her mind, to hand such an insinuating lead to the prosecution?

“Are you going anywhere with this, counsel?”

Your attorney nervously bit her lip.

“No, your honor.”

She turned to Namjoon.

“Couldn’t the defendant have purchased the jewels even when the elder Mr. Min was alive?”

Namjoon wondered if this woman had even researched her case properly. What kind of attorney gave away their client like this in court? He looked at you, weighing his words.

“Mr. Min handled all the finance of the Min family. Yoongi could have bought her the jewels, yes, but his father had to okay any big expenses he made.”

“I see. Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

Namjoon was excused from the witness stand. You were in utter disbelief. You were being framed. By your own attorney. Taehyung was right. You were going to prison.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You couldn’t bring yourself to munch the sandwich that was before you. It was court recess, and your attorney was by your side, eating busily. She was completely oblivious of your apparent resentment towards her.

“How could you give me away like that?”

She looked up; eyebrows raised.

“Like what?”

You had to control yourself from shouting at the top of your lungs. Clutching the table hard, you rocked yourself, trying to be calm.

“You almost accused me of killing my father-in-law.”

She rolled her eyes with a blank “Eh.” On seeing you intensify the burning stare; she grumblingly munched the last bit of her steak.

“You’re already on your way to prison, dearie. Nothing I say or don’t is gonna help you.”

“You are my fucking lawyer!”

A few lawyers seated on the adjacent table murmured in disapproval in your general direction.

“Mind your fucking business!” You shouted at them, eyes blazing in anger. The woman clucked her tongue in disapproval.

“That temper won’t help. Don’t incriminate yourself even more. I did tell you to accept a plea deal, Y/N.”

Three tables away from yours, Kang Minsook was seated with his associates, deep in discussion.

“Something about this case makes me feel weird,” an associate was saying. “Why would the defense point out the senior Mr. Min’s accident? It only makes sense if we do. What is that attorney up to?”

Far back in the cafeteria, Taehyung sipped a cold strawberry milkshake as he watched you. Ugh. He had to endure the disgusting milkshake just for you. For you. Yes, he would do anything for you. But the obvious artificial strawberry flavoring was almost too much. You would pay later for making him drink such cheap stuff.

As his juniors droned on about the case, Minsook glanced over at your gloomy figure staring down at the table. It made him wonder how you were going to handle what was coming next.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You were sure you were going to be called up for cross-examination as soon as the court was in session. Bunching the hem of your skirt tight, you bent your head in apprehension. They were going to call out your name. They were going to prove that you killed Yoongi. They were going to send you to prison. Your knuckles tightened around the fabric, the dampness of your palm transferring onto it.

“The prosecution summons Mr. Kim Taehyung, your Honor.”

All the fear in the world rolled into one tight ball that got caught in your throat. Taehyung was going to testify?

The black-haired man took confident strides as he made his way to the witness stand. Everything about him suggested a successful, genuine, and well-respected man. The ladies in the gallery murmured about how rare it was to see not one but two families in the elite circle pitted against each other. The thumping of your heart was so loud and deafening. Taehyung composed himself with a sincere look in his dark eyes.

“Please state your name and occupation for the sake of the court.”

He raked his eyes through the jury. “I am Kim Taehyung. I am the CEO of Kim Automotive LLC.”

Minsook considered the witness carefully.

“What kind of relationship do you have with the Min family?”

“We were both rich families.” Taehyung masked the bitterness in his voice. “We met at social gatherings.”

“Do you know the defendant?”

“Yes.” The answer was abrupt, leaving unsaid words hanging in the air. The prosecutor pressed on.

“How do you know her?”

Taehyung batted his thick eyelashes innocently, looking square into the eyes of Minsook.

“She came to me trying to pledge the Min estate.”

There was a sharp gasp from the spectators and the low murmuring started to grow louder before the judge pounded his gavel.

The prosecutor waited for all the hushed voices to completely dribble down into sharp silence before asking the burning question:

“The defendant sought you out by herself?”

You closed your eyes lest someone see the beaded drops that were threatening to fall. All the memories of what happened half an hour ago flashed in your mind in full throttle.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You had been walking back to the benches outside the courtroom, when a man bumped into you, causing you to gasp out loud. As you clutched your shoulder and glared crossly at the retreating figure, you noticed chewing gum on your suit. Wincing in disgust, you tried to peel it off when you noticed a small neatly folded bit of paper sticking to it. You opened it, only to find four words written on the slip.

‘Barristers’ chambers No. 3. -KTH’

Turning just in time, your eyes caught Taehyung as he slowly watched you and walked ahead, leading the way.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

“Well, sugar? Ready to change your mind yet?” were the words that greeted you upon entering the chambers.

The blinds were drawn, lending a dark ambiance to the room. Taehyung was half-leaning on the table, supporting the weight of his body on both his arms. He watched you, fascinated by the pencil skirt and the tailored suit jacket that fit you so well. It was a shame that you had to go through all the court drama. The worry on your forehead made him want to reach over and kiss all the tension away. Only if you let him. He sighed.

He pushed himself off the table, reaching you in determined strides, his face alight with emotion. With an arrogant flick of his wrist, he crooned in his deep voice:

“20 more minutes before the court is in session, darling.”

His long fingers gripped your jacket, pulling you into his chest. The fingers roamed on your person, finding purchase at the nape of your neck. The heat of his body accompanied by the firm grip of his fingers left you frozen in place.

Taehyung rang his tongue over his upper lip, curling his mouth in a suggestive smirk.

“So, yes or no?”

“I- How can you make it all go away?” your voice came in a bare whisper.

“Baby, I always get my way. Do you still doubt what I’m capable of?”

He nuzzled his forehead against yours, sighing deeply in content. His eyes fluttered closed, the steady rise and fall of his chest falling in rhythm with yours.

“So? What is it? Endure me, or spend a lifetime in prison wondering what I did with your child?”

“Plea-“

His finger shushed your lips, stopping you from saying anything he didn’t want to hear. His eyes were still closed, but there was a soft smile kindling in the corners of his lips.

“18 minutes left, Y/N. Say it. Yes or No?”

Your mind was a maze of emotions. Say yes and live with Taehyung? The man who killed your husband? You’d have to be insane to do that. Say no and go to prison? What would you do without your baby? Why did all of this happen? Where exactly did you go wrong? Why were you trapped in a room with your husband’s killer draped all over your bosom?

“15 minutes.”

A giant sob rocked your body, tears streaming down your face as you spat it out:

“Yes.”

His eyes opened slowly, a euphoric smile making his face glow in radiance. You could have sworn there was a glossy film on his eyes that suspiciously resembled tears.

“Oh Y/N. I love you.”

He peppered soft kisses on your cheeks and nose, leaning back reflexively at the wetness of your cheeks.

“Why the tears, my sweet?” He brushed the trickling tears with the tip of his thumb. “Anyone would think you hate the idea of marrying me.”

When he didn’t get a reply, his eyes went from soft to dangerous in one quick flash. He leaned over you so that you were arching yourself backward, his hand supporting the small of your back securely. He made as if to kiss your jaw, but flicked his tongue out instead. His hot tongue swept over the trail left by the tears, licking your face from jaw to cheekbone in one long stroke.

His other hand gripped your squirming hips hard, the dangerous glint was fixated on your pupils as he continued his stroke above your eyes, stopping only momentarily when your eyes fluttered at the wet feeling of your lashes. He finished the trail at your eyebrow, landing a soft kiss on the arch of your eyebrow.

“No makeup,” he observed, looking deep into your eyes. “And just as beautiful as always. Delicious too. Pity you didn’t wear lipstick; I’d have loved to have your lip prints on my cock.”

His grip of your waist loosened, and you pushed yourself upright, shuddering all over. You tried to wipe off his saliva with the sleeve of your jacket, but his hand stopped you with a harsh jolt.

“Never, remember, never wipe off anything I give you.”

You glared at him, the sticky wetness still bothering you.

“You disgust me, Kim Taehyung.”

His eyes crinkled in delight. “Aw, I love you too, darling.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung considered the question, ruminating on his thoughts.

“Yes.”

Minsook chose his words carefully.

“Can you tell the court what Mrs. Min said, Mr. Kim?”

“She said ‘My husband is in debt and I want to mortgage our property. He doesn’t want anyone to know, so I came to you instead of going to his friends.’ She looked very upset. “

“And you didn’t talk to Mr. Min about this before agreeing to the request?”

Taehyung looked annoyed.

“I trusted Mrs. Min’s words.” It looked like referring to you by that title made him sick. “I didn’t want her husband to feel uncomfortable, especially because she said that he wanted it to be discreet.”

You felt bile rising to your chest as you watched the bastard stack lie upon lie as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

Minsook considered the witness closely before asking his next question.

“Do you have witnesses to corroborate your story, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung simply smiled, his eyes briefly flitting over to you. He ran his tongue over his lips as if your taste was still on them.

“At least twenty of my staff were present when she arrived at my mansion.”

Wrong. There were more than 50 guys that day when you went to him, dragging a suitcase in your pajamas. Of course, they would testify against you. The case was going to be a nightmare to get out of.

Taehyung was excused in haste. Turning to the judge, Minsook spoke so fast that you almost couldn’t keep up with his flow.

“Your Honor, the state pleads more time to prove that the accused mortgaged the Min property, took the money- “he glanced at the jury with emotion “-and killed her husband to get rid of liabilities. We have enough evidence for reasonable doubt.”

He appealed to the jury with strong words, trying to rock them in his favor.

“An innocent man loses all his money, his wife flees, she never reports him missing, his house is a bloody mess, with blood matching his DNA all over the place. The police found one airplane ticket in the defendant’s personal effects. Just one. Not two, if she is to be believed.”

He let the magnitude of his allusion sink in before throwing the next bombshell.

“As the defense uncovered, the elder Mr. and Mrs. Min were conveniently removed from the defendant’s life. The defense also confirmed that the defendant alleged that her mother-in-law was a threat to her life and sent her away. This raises doubt into the elder Mr. Min’s tragic accident.”

You were shocked into silence; the pain was overwhelming. You felt like you were floating above your body, detached and dead from all the pain and hurt.

Minsook was going on.

“While we can’t definitively prove that the defendant was involved in it, we do have the responsibility of looking keenly into the case at hand to make sure that justice is served.”

There was a brief interruption as the side doors opened, and a man walked in, making straight to your attorney. He handed her a package, whispering into her ear. She immediately stood up and asked for permission to speak. All eyes were on her, and no one noticed the brief looks exchanged between Taehyung and the mysterious messenger. Except you, of course.

“Your Honor, the defense wishes to continue this hearing in camera.”

The judge peered over his glasses at the counsel.

“What is the necessity for it, please?”

You saw the defense attorney wave the package at the jury, addressing the judge and jury at the same time.

“We have proof that Min Yoongi is alive.”

What? You gasped in shock, the news bringing you back to reality and grounding you. The brief respite was replaced with deep hurt when you looked at Taehyung. His single raised eyebrow uttered the unsaid. He had gotten his way. Just like he had said he would.

A loud babble of voices broke out in the spectators’ area, the droning of voices so loud that the judge pounded the gavel furiously.

“And what proof is there to confirm this news?”

Your attorney passed a few pieces of paper over to the clerk.

“These are Min Yoongi’s shell company records that prove that he is in possession of the 50 million dollars, your Honor.” She passed on more papers. “This flight manifest shows that a passenger named Soo Yeongguk was on board, carrying a passport with the same name.”

“And?”

“These surveillance camera pictures show that it was Mr. Min who used a fake passport in the name of Soo Yeongguk to flee the country.”

Minsook sputtered, “But Your Honor, the blood and DNA,” he was wringing his hands, “He couldn’t have flown with those injuries.”

It was explained away by the defense as non-conclusive.

“Mr. Min could have easily planted his blood just like he did everything else to frame his wife, your Honor. There is no hard evidence that he bled to death. Or even died, for that matter.”

“Why has the defense wasted the court’s valuable time when all these facts were already known?”

“We only got confirmation of the false identity a few minutes ago, your Honor.”

The judge rose up to stand, and immediately the whole courtroom followed suit.

“This will be further discussed in camera.”

The judge turned and left, and both the prosecution and defense scurried to fetch their documents and hastened to the judge’s chambers. The bailiff escorted the jury and left.

There was pandemonium and confusion after they left. People were restless, talking in hushed tones about all the drama that had just happened. As for you, it was pure shock that kept you standing on your feet. Shock at how easily justice has been swayed.

It felt like you were treading clouds when you were taken into the judge’s chambers. How could they have cooked up all the proof? You saw your husband’s death with your own eyes. Was there not an inkling of sunshine at the end of the tunnel? Not a drop of justice in the universe?

You felt numb and empty as you stood watching the judge reprimand your counsel for wasting the court’s time and resources. He also fined the defense. You weren’t listening. You didn’t care. Because you were declared innocent. And condemned to marry Taehyung.

You didn’t stay back to see Taehyung and the judge shake hands in solidarity. Nor did you hear Taehyung whisper:

“Good show. Expect the money in one hour.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The cold water pricking your skin did nothing to assuage the hurt eating away at your heart. The incessant flashes of the cameras as you exited the courtrooms, the reporters calling your name out, the overpowering smell of sweat and stale coffee, everything came back with such force that you squatted in the shower, hugging yourself.

You had come back to the hotel alone. No Taehyung. Because he apparently ‘didn’t know you that much.’ Snake. And you couldn’t find a way to escape him. He had kept his side of the bargain. You had to keep yours. The cold water was a far better company than the man outside your door.

“Y/N!” The knocks on the bathroom door were growing impatient. “Come on out already.”

You looked at the flimsy contraption that was dividing you and him. You had to go out. He couldn’t be avoided forever.

“Want me to break the damn door?” The deep voice hollered in irritation.

Taehyung couldn’t wait to see you. You were now his. No force on Earth could take you away from him. Not on his watch. He had already received a text from Wo Bin. So that matter had been taken care of. He was in a jubilant mood.

The lock clicked, and you emerged, wrapped in the hotel’s complimentary white bathrobe. Taehyung thought that he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Wet hair clumped in loose coils around your shoulders, slowly dripping water on the robe. His heart sang, believing that you had been cleansed of Min Yoongi and his touches. You looked angelic; damp body covered in nothing but a robe. A strange feeling raged up from his gut, catching in his throat and smothering him in emotion.

His hand reached you as if it had a mind of its own. The fabric was rough. Wouldn’t it chafe your delicate skin? He balled his fist to contain his annoyance. His slender fingers bunched around the sash, pulling you into his arms. He gasped at how cold you were.

“You’re so cold, Y/N.”

Your face was blank. He got no response. Tracing his steps backward, he landed on the bed, pulling you into his lap.

“So cold,” he repeated again, gently nudging the robe away from your shoulder blades to press soft kisses. You squirmed, and he didn’t like it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped, cupping your jaw.

The hurt was too much and you broke.

“It’s- I – Yoongi.”

He held you in his arms, waiting for the violent sobs to subside, gently shushing you. He didn’t like that you were still thinking of Yoongi. But he had foreseen this. And he had already made arrangements.

“What about Yoongi, baby?”

You sniffed, unsure if you were supposed to tell him. Hell, what else did you have to lose?

“He- I- “More sobs and hiccups before you continued: “-I want to see him.”

He blew out his cheeks softly.

“And what good will that do?”

He attempted to wipe your tears, but you slapped his hand away.

“I’m his wife.”

“Not anymore. He’s dead.”

The words twisted into your heart like a cold iron dagger. The fighter in you returned with a vengeance.

“But Yoongi is alive. At least legally. You just proved that in court.”

He chuckled, the vibrations of his chest transferring onto your own body, sweeping you into the reverberation too.

“Yes. And unfortunately, he died an hour ago.”

You tried to push yourself off him in vain. The hold grew tight, and his eyes became harder. Your voice broke again.

“What do you mean?”

He cradled your head into the crook of his neck, and you revolted angrily by hitting his jaw and pulling back.

“Tell me, you fucking prick!”

He grinned, his irises dark, the danger swimming in them climbing out and coloring his features with malice.

“You’ll find out yourself.”

He sat motionless, looking into your eyes, as you hurled cuss words at him, shaking his shoulders, demanding an answer. You grew tired eventually, and stopped your tirade, choosing to go silent instead.

It was all quiet in the room, with Taehyung holding you in his lap, sniffing your wet hair, when the ringing of a cell phone screeched and cut the silence. The sound was coming from his pocket.

“Take it,” he urged, his voice dark and mysterious. “It’s for you.”

Grimacing, you dug your fingers into his pockets, scowling when he moaned at your touch. Upon finding the phone, you accepted the call and breathed out a shaky “Hello?”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“I don’t have the faintest idea why Yoongi did this,” Mrs. Park said, dabbing her eyes as she patted your hand. “He was such a good boy.” She shook her head sadly. “Maybe I didn’t know him that well after all.”

To say that her words amplified your hurt would be an understatement. You were surrounded by people who were willing to believe that Yoongi had deserted you, ending up dead by a twist of fate. Your Yoongi would never do that. Never. Yet, the groups of people clustered in the hall seemed to think otherwise.

You looked around at the familiar yet strange faces. Did any of them even care? You thought not. And yet again, the man who destroyed your husband made his appearance, weaving his way through the flood of faces.

“My heartfelt condolences, Mrs. Min.”

You shook your hand free from his clasp. The venomous anger bubbling inside you made you choke on your words as you bit out a forced “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

“Talk about Karma,” he went on, unmindful of your hostile countenance. “He left you desolate and Karma caught up with him.”

Before you could snap, Mrs. Park nodded her head, acknowledging his words.

“Mr. Kim is right, child. Yoongi got into trouble because he left you. No decent man fakes his death and pins the blame on his wife.”

She became agitated, the sorrow of losing her best friend’s son hitting her hard.

“I wish he hadn’t gotten involved with the mafia, though. He might have come back to you. Alas.”

More tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to Mrs. Park. How you wished you could scream that Yoongi was dead only because of Taehyung!

“I’ll call on Sung-Hee at the Klammer when I leave.” She patted your shoulder delicately.

You nodded with a soft whisper: “Please give her my love.”

Kim Namjoon had come to bid his friend farewell. He was silent as he surveyed the closed coffin, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he controlled his choked emotions. He paused to hiss in your ear when he was leaving:

“You killed him, bitch.”

The funeral was very difficult to get through. People kept walking up to you, expressing their disappointment at the way your husband had met his death. And all the while the killer stood at a corner of the hall, not caring in the least about the gross injustice Min Yoongi was being subjected to, even in his death.

When everyone left, you were standing alone in the hall, working up the heart to bid goodbye to the love of your life. Taehyung had left long ago, playing his part of an innocent visitor.

Your fingers traced the wood, feeling the ridges and following the embossed floral patterns. It was going to be very hard. Biting your lip to contain the trembling, you slid a finger under the coffin lid.

“I would advise against that.”

You looked up with a start. It was him again. You glared at him as your fingers pried under the lid again. He stepped forward with an urgent whisper.

“Y/N, don’t.”

You had already seen the worst happen right before your eyes. What more would frighten you?

Taehyung wasn’t fast enough, and you had already screamed and leaped back when he arrived at your side.

“I told you not to.” His arms embraced you, holding you tight while you continued screaming your heart out. You turned on him with vengeful fury, hitting his chest, throwing a volley of punches with your balled fists. He let you punch him, not even trying to shield himself.

When you were spent from all the screaming and punching, he hugged you as softly as he could.

“I hired the best mortician. But-” he sighed heavily “-yeah; Min still looks bad.”

He was met with no response. He continued hugging you, rubbing soft circles on your back.

“But-”

He bent down to look at your red eyes. “Hm?”

“Where’s his…” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “… his wedding ring?”

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know.”

It didn’t matter. You knew that the man inside the coffin was Yoongi. You would recognize those fingers from anywhere. Those long beautiful fingers that had traced lines of love on your skin ever so often. He was indeed gone.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung was silent as he watched the numbers on the elevator as it climbed up to his penthouse office. It had been three days since he had last seen you. You were at his mansion, alright, but you had locked yourself in a room and had refused to come out. He hadn’t seen you ever since the funeral. He idly wondered if you were still wearing the black dress from that evening. A small conscious cough interrupted his thought train.

So Na Yeon, his personal secretary, nervously fished in her pocket for a kerchief. “Please excuse me.”

He didn’t react. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone. Her lipstick was a shade too bright for his taste. She was interesting to look at. But no one could ever match to you. And thus, he found himself thinking of you yet again.

When the elevator dinged and opened, she followed Taehyung briskly, sailing into his office right behind him. She waited for him to be seated, and then got on with briefing him about his appointments for the day. But when Taehyung waved her away, she remained in place, biting her lip anxiously.

“Well?”

She creased her forehead, deciding if she should tell him.

“Mr. Wo Bin reported that one of the men is rebelling, sir.”

“In what way?”

“It appears that he asked for a raise and Mr. Bin turned him down.”

“What did Bin say about it?”

She shook her head.

“He said that the man isn’t good enough and that he’s already a waste of your money.”

Taehyung lost interest. He wanted to get his work done with so he could think of you more.

“If Bin said so, I don’t doubt his opinion. Tell him to handle the guy in whichever way he sees fit.”

“Yes, sir.”

She turned and left. And Taehyung noticed her short business skirt for the first time. She seemed really proud of her figure. And then she faded out and his mind wandered to you once again.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You could hear him fiddling with the doorknob. You knew he had a master key. You had expected to see him break into the room angrily as soon as you had slammed yourself in. But Taehyung did nothing of that sort.

Every morning, before he left, he would try the doorknob. Every evening, as soon as he arrived, he would do it again. There would be heavy sighs outside the door and he’d leave. It was like a ritual, and it went on for six days since the funeral.

On the seventh day, however, he lost his patience. He had waited and given you time to come back to him. He wanted you to walk into his arms willingly. But his patience was wearing thin.

“Open the door.”

He was pressing his forehead against the wood, gritting his teeth in suppressed anger. When there was no sound of movement, his voice rose to a high growl.

“I said open! Now!”

His large palms made contact with the wood as he pounded on the door. Suddenly, the door gave way and opened, the darkness inside the room making it hard for him to see you. It didn’t help that you were wearing black too. At last, he made out your outline.

He reached over to flick the light on, and gasped as soon as the light hit you. There were deep dark circles under your eyes. The straps of the dress were loose and ready to fall from your shoulders.

“God, Y/N, you look like Death.”

He cautiously approached forward, running his eyes over the clavicles that were jutting out sharply.

“It’s been six days. Seven, almost.” He took your hand, pressing it gently. “Come out.”

“No.”

Your voice was so low that he tilted his head to catch the words.

“You need to eat.”

“No.”

He tugged on your hand hard, anger rising in his chest.

“It’s not good for- ” he eyed your belly, “-that thing inside you.”

Hatred lit a spark in your blank eyes.

“It’s a baby,” you hissed, pushing against his chest with all your might. “It’s Min Yoongi’s baby.”

“Yeah, whatever. Do you want it to die? Come out and fucking eat.”

The glaring eyes were better than the blank ones, he noted. He liked you better when you were all animated and furious.

“I wasn’t starving myself. The mini-fridge…“

“I don’t think fruit would nourish your bastard enough. Stop arguing and come out.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung knew the answer before he even asked the question out loud.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You were dressed in a soft cashmere sweater and jeans. Yoongi used to love that sweater. He would always comment on how it made you look like a fairy cloud.

Taehyung knew the clothes only too well. He had seen you wear the sweater on multiple dates with Yoongi while he was following you around. It made him mad to see you still dressing up for him.

You didn’t even turn his way, throwing the answer at him sullenly:

“My husband’s grave.”

Taehyung leaned back on the sofa, propping his legs up on the coffee table.

“And who exactly is buried there?”

You turned and stared at him, confused.

“Min Yoongi?”

Taehyung chuckled heartily, crossing his arms and gazing fondly at you.

“Oh honey, how naïve you are!”

“What do you mean?” Anxiety pooled in your chest as he continued chuckling without answering.

He took his sweet time to answer, leaving you standing puzzled.

“Do you honestly think I’d let you visit that bastard in his grave, Y/N? Just so you can make him a martyr? Do you think I’m a fool?”

“What- what do you mean?” you repeated again, feeling your chest tighten.

“He isn’t buried there. There’s another dead guy matching his description buried in his stead.”

“But- the coffin-“

“Oh, yeah it was him in the coffin, all right.” He yawned lazily. “Switched bodies on the way to the cemetery.”

He watched all the emotions flashing on your face, the quiver of your lips, the unblinking eyes as you grasped all the information he had just stated. Finally, a cold blank stare replaced the myriad of emotions that had lit up your face. Slowly, you walked back into the bedroom, locking yourself shut. Taehyung sighed deeply. You were finally his.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

It was obvious to Taehyung that you were suffering him just for the sake of your baby. It was bittersweet to him that the only reason you would stay alive was Yoongi’s child growing inside you. He wished fervently to get rid of that tiny Min seed, but he knew the aftermath would be disastrous.

You talked to him in barbed tones only if it was absolutely necessary. The rest of the time, it was as if he was invisible to you. He had forced you to sleep in the master bedroom with him. But it hurt him to see the wide gap in the sheets between him and you every night.

Sometimes, he would turn in his sleep and a finger would brush against you. And he’d stay wide awake watching you huddle on the corner of the bed, sobbing quietly. It became increasingly apparent that you weren’t sleeping at all. If he so much as shifted in his side of the bed, you would immediately flinch.

Part of him wanted to understand, to hold you, and say that he loved you and wouldn’t hurt you. Another part of him was fueled by jealousy, that even in death, Min Yoongi was winning your attention. It was frustrating to him that his enemy wasn’t alive. Who could fight a dead man’s memory?

It was that part of him that broke loose, when he saw you crawl on your side of the bed, wearing an oversized hoodie that reeked of another man. Not letting him touch you was already a sore point. And the hoodie just made him go ballistic.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Huh?” You looked down at Yoongi’s hoodie. “I am cold.”

“Wear something else or strip naked for all I care.” His nose was flaring with the exertion it took to control himself.

You glared at him for a hot second.

“Fuck yourself.”

Without another word, you turned your back to him.

There was a sudden jolt as he pranced to your side, pulling you so you were lying on your back. His whole countenance was flashing with murderous rage. His knees were on either side of you, his arms pinning your shoulders to the bed. Hot breath fanned your face as he dipped his head down.

“Throw everything away. Everything that belonged to Min.”

You stared at him in defiance.

“What about me? I belong to him.”

His lips twitched ominously.

“He is dead.”

You didn’t back down in the slightest.

“Yes. You killed him.”

You could see the internal struggle he was going through to stop himself from hitting you.

He took a deep ragged breath and dipped his head even closer to your face.

“Listen, Y/N. Everything I did, I did because I love you.” He gripped your jaw hard when you rolled your eyes. “I went through a lot to get you. And I will not let you screw this up for me.” He paused with a haunted look in his eyes.

“Why is it so hard to love me?”

He looked at your lips as if they were curling around the words that would be his lifeline.

“Because you are not Yoongi. You killed him.”

His hot sigh fell on your lips, the heat sucking all the moisture from the soft flesh. You were scared that he was going to kiss you.

He leaned back a bit, catching hold of the hem of the hoodie.

“Are you going to remove this, or should I?”

He got off you, turning his back to you as he rummaged in his closet. Without looking back, he tossed his grey oversized sweater at you. He didn’t wait before adding:

“Wear that or sleep naked. Your choice.”

It gave him wicked joy to see you dressed in his clothes. His scent would be all over you, washing away that bastard’s. He made a note to throw away everything you owned and buy you new ones. Nothing should remind you of Min. Even the most inconsequential thing would have to go. He looked at your back wistfully. Everything but that thing inside your belly.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Two weeks passed uneventfully. Taehyung had given you a restricted phone. You could only call Taehyung with it. Calls to Hoseok and others never went through. You felt like your world had suddenly shrunk to one individual.

There was nothing to do in that big house. You weren’t allowed to work, because, apparently you were ‘not ready yet.’ Sometimes, it crossed your mind that you hadn’t received any letters or calls from your clients and friends. But it was probably because Taehyung screened everything. You were sure he’d filter the air you breathed if he had a way to.

You wondered how your mother-in-law was. Why was it that she went crazy but you didn’t? Had your love for Yoongi not been strong enough? Were you not anchored deeply with Yoongi as Sung-Hee had been with her husband?

Would you end up in a room next to your Yoongi’s mother? But you were sure they would take away your child if you went to the Klammer Institute. No, you shivered in disgust. You would never let Taehyung destroy the little piece of Yoongi left in the world.

The next morning, you emerged from the bathroom, body drained in exhaustion. Nothing you ate seemed to stay in your tummy. Wearily, you padded over to the full-length mirror in the dressing table.

You were pulling the shirt up and gazing at your belly when there was a click behind you. Taehyung stood immobile at the doorway, mouth agape.

His eyes were fixed on the mirror, looking at the tiny flab on your erstwhile flat belly. You had been only a couple months pregnant when Yoongi died, so the bump hadn’t shown. But nature was going her way, and soon you would be heavily pregnant, belly rich and round with child.

Taehyung gazed silently, not uttering a word. It was as if he were on mute. When he opened his mouth, at last, the words that shot out were:

“Time to marry.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Your plea to wait longer fell on deaf ears. Taehyung didn’t want to delay marrying you. He wanted to protect his ego. He would marry you before your pregnancy showed.

You pointed out that people would call you an unscrupulous woman who remarried even before flowers took root on her husband’s grave.

“Do you want everyone to hate me?”

He didn’t even flinch.

“Everyone already hates me. At least you’ll be on my side.”

No matter how you pleaded, he refused to listen. He reminded you of the jail time he had saved you and your baby from.

“It wouldn’t take me a minute to get you arrested again, you know.”

He looked at your midsection. “Want me to sign up for foster care?”

There was no way out. You slumped your shoulders in resignation. It was part of the deal, after all.

“Nothing lavish.” You licked your lips nervously. “Just take me to the fucking courthouse and get it over with.

Taehyung smiled, eyes dancing. The sunny smile lit his face aglow, a strange softness shading his sharp features.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Y/N, you really are a mystery. So soon?”

Mrs. Kim didn’t care to lower her voice.

“Leave her alone, Mrs. Kim.”

Hoseok’s tone was clipped, annoyance evident on his face.

Bo Na was holding your hand, patting it slowly, her eyes assuring you that she understood why you had to do what you did.

Taehyung smiled, finger grazing the rim of the champagne glass. He was wearing the tux he had bought months before you married Yoongi. He had spent countless nights running his fingers over the dreamy satin, his mind dreaming up heady concoctions of how sparkling you would look as you walked down the aisle, on his arm. He had woven all his dreams into the very fabric of that tuxedo, and the fact that he had, at last, attained what he wanted, made his heart warm.

“To tell you the truth, Mrs. Kim,” he sipped some champagne, waiting until all the attention was on him, “Y/N is pregnant with Min Yoongi’s child.”

Bo Na gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to contain the shock.

Mrs. Kim looked just as shocked. She couldn’t stop lowering her eyes to your belly.

Taehyung continued:

“She needs a person by her side, especially after losing Yoongi so tragically. I was Yoongi’s friend, and I can’t let Y/N suffer by herself.”

You wished the champagne were laced with poison. When had you become so weak? How was it that you let him puppeteer you into silence? Should you have tried and killed him before things got so complicated?

“Lost in thought, lamb?”

Taehyung grinned. No water on Earth would have doused the fiery glare you threw his way. Mrs. Kim called out to her son who was passing by.

“Namjoon!”

Yoongi’s best friend clenched his jaw and exhaled loudly before making his way to his mother.

“Yes, mom.”

“You were wrong about Y/N, boy. The poor girl is pregnant.”

His thick eyebrows arched at you in surprise.

His mother went on.

“And Taehyung only wanted to help, poor darling. Such a good man, he is.”

Namjoon’s eyes locked onto Taehyung’s. The air felt electric as they stared each other down. Namjoon deflated eventually.

“Yeah, I’m sure he is. Excuse me, please.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

There were no words to describe how embarrassed you were by the whole wedding affair. Everything was the opposite of nothing lavish. The decorations were all extravagant, sophisticated, and gaudy in the face of the fact that you had been widowed only months ago.

Taehyung had invited every person who had attended your first wedding with Yoongi. It was almost as if he wanted to flaunt you and brag about how he had fooled them all right under their noses. He was everywhere, flitting from one guest to the other, flashing his boxy smile, playing his part of the perfect host.

The guests were confused if they had to offer their condolences or wishes. It was very awkward for you, the little rip in your heart deepening with each guest’s flustered greeting.

Wow. Everyone pretended as if Yoongi never existed. As if he had never been killed. Killed by the man who danced through the halls as if he were the epitome of innocence.

Hoseok took your hand, leaning in to whisper.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wish I could kill Taehyung.”

You blinked away the tears.

“Yeah, so do I.”

The sound of a spoon tapping a wine glass cut through the chatter.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!”

Everyone stopped chatting and looked expectantly at Taehyung’s uncle, who was all smiles.

“I’d like to say what a fine boy Taehyung is, deciding to take Y/N under his wing, after the terrible misfortune that befell her.” He raised his voice to a higher note. “Especially because he didn’t want her child to be fatherless.”

If you ever had the power to vanish, you would have loved to use it at that moment. There were several gasps and turned heads that looked your way.

“Congratulations, to the new couple!”

Taehyung’s uncle raised his glass, and scattered applause sounded, and grew louder as people digested the news.

Taehyung stood with his head bent, a shy smile painting his cheeks pink.

That devil.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Going through the whole ordeal of the wedding was emotionally taxing. Every little thing about the ceremony reminded you of the gummy-smiled beautiful man you had married with so much love. When Taehyung slid the ring on your finger, you felt a wave of nausea that certainly wasn’t related to your pregnancy. He lowered his head to kiss your knuckles, loving the way the beautiful cushion-cut diamond adorned your pretty hand.

As you were walking out, trying not to cringe at Taehyung’s grasp on the small of your hip, a woman stumbled and dropped her glass, splashing wine all over the front of your dress.

“Oh! I am so sorry!”

Your brain couldn’t get irritated enough to lose your temper. Not when a man had already forcibly married you and assassinated your darling Yoongi’s character just before your eyes.

“It’s alright, Na Yeon.”

Taehyung waved her away, not angry in the least. He then leaned in to whisper in your ear:

“I’m going to rip that dress off your body anyway.”

The ride to his mansion was the longest. You had been living there, yes, but as Mrs. Min. You had hidden behind that name as if it were a consecrated circle. But this time, you were going as Taehyung’s bride. Nothing was going to stop him from claiming you.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Kim,” Taehyung sang to you as the car pulled into the driveway.

“Taehyung-“

He laid his slim finger on your lip, shushing you.

“Call me Tae.”

You scoffed in disbelief.

“You really think I’d call you that? What, do you think I love you?”

He grinned happily.

“You do. You just don’t accept it yet.”

There was a battle of stares and you turned on your heel, stomping away to change out of the stupid wine-soaked wedding dress.

It was confusing when you stopped outside the bedroom door. Because the knob wouldn’t turn. You were fiddling with it for a good five minutes when Taehyung’s chuckle fell in your ears.

He was leaning against the banister, a set of shiny keys in his hand.

“It’s customary to give the lady of the house all the keys,” he drawled, twirling the silvery loop that jangled in his hand. “Our bedroom is upstairs, Mrs. Kim. Newly decorated just for us.”

Irritated, you plucked the keys out of his fingers, huffing your way up to the damned bedroom. When you threw the door open, you understood that he was telling the truth.

The whole room was painted in pastel cream colors, books and music stacked neatly on the glass shelves. There was a huge closet, with mirrors for doors. The closet directly overlooked the giant white bed. Rose petals were strewn across the bed to make a big flower heart.

You knew he was behind you when you heard the brisk step of his shoe.

“Like it?”

You could almost hear his smile in those words.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The petals stuck onto your thighs as you rolled out of bed. Taehyung was sleeping, his chest pressing against the bed, his arm strewn over a pillow. His rhythmic breathing confirmed that he was asleep.

You shuddered at the shrunken petals, crushed under the weight of your bodies. Taehyung’s dark hair fanned over his arm, and you could see his veins bulging underneath his skin. So strong. Yet, he hadn’t thrown himself at you as you had feared.

In fact, he had gone straight to shower upon entering the new bedroom. You had changed into shorts. Strangely, all your long night pants were missing from the new closet.

Taehyung hadn’t made any sudden moves. He had emerged from the bathroom, stood before the closet-mirrors, tightened the cords of his pajamas, and turned to you.

You had been absolutely sure that you were going to be claimed harshly. But he had simply knelt down, both hands on either side of you, and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. Accompanied by the distinct sniff of his habitual smelling of your hair. And then he had risen up and gone to his side of the bed.

Sneaking a look at the man sleeping across the bed, you couldn’t understand why he hadn’t thrown himself at you forcibly. Had he not done it in the glass room?

The bedside clock ticked on, and you decided to pay your parents a visit. You hadn’t been to see them in a long time, ever since Yoongi had started having money troubles. The last time you had visited them, you were Mrs. Min. Something inside you just wanted to get away from the sudden overload of being married to your husband’s killer. Your mind craved something to keep you from going insane. Something that was a constant in the troubled times of uncertainty.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Months ago

Yoongi was at home, all alone. An empty whiskey bottle was lying on the table, rolling to the sides a teeny bit every now and then. He couldn’t believe he had gotten into so much trouble. All those years of hard work his parents and grandparents had put into the Min Group, all the effort, it was all falling apart. Because of him. The heir who wrecked the family. He could almost see the headlines in the newspaper.

His breath was probably smelling like whiskey. You would find out. He sighed.

You. Beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful you. Why had things gone so bad? Why did he ever trust Wo Bin, that bastard? A thousand questions raced in his mind, the drunken haze making them even louder. How could he ever tell you that he had let you down? That he had let his entire family down?

He glanced at the digital clock on the counter. 3 pm. You would be home soon. Good gosh, was it Wednesday already? Kim Taehyung had threatened to show up at the Min house if he didn’t pay up by Friday. What was he going to do in such little time?

A clang of the doorbell startled him. You carried your own key. Who else was at the door?

Yoongi stood up and the headrush made him stumble around a bit. When he finally opened the door, a delivery girl was standing outside. She was carrying a bouquet of lilies. Lilies. They were your favorite. He was confused. Who sent you lilies at your home?

“Delivery for Mrs. Kim?”

Yoongi stood stunned. What the hell?

“You’ve got the wrong address.”

He tried to shut the door, but the girl persisted in a shrill voice.

“A person called Y/N? Does she live here?”

“Yeah- why…?”

The girl thrust the bouquet in his hands, grinning cheerfully.

“Then these are for her.”

She hopped away, leaving him standing at the porch, wondering what in the world just happened.

When Yoongi went back in, his gaze fell on the little card attached to the bow on the stems. It read:

‘To the future Mrs. Kim.

All the love, KTH.’

The words made Yoongi so angry that his fingers started shaking alarmingly. There was a band of sweat under his collar, even though the AC was on full blast. Anger coursing through his veins, Yoongi clawed at the card and tore it to pieces. He had never been so insulted in his life.

Outside, the delivery girl dialed a number and waited for the man to pick up.

“I delivered the flowers to him, Mr. Bin.”

She paused to listen.

“Yeah, he was alone.”

Yoongi was on his way to dump the flowers in the trash can when his phone rang. Swearing under his breath, he threw the bouquet on the counter and picked up.

“Min Yooooongiii…”

The deep booming voice drawled in his ear. Yoongi felt his cheeks heat up. Sweat was beginning to trickle down his forehead.

“Quit playing your games with me, Taehyung.”

There was a throaty chuckle on the other end of the line.

“Do you think your wife will like the lilies?”

“I swear I’ll-“

“I am sure she received another delivery at her studio.”

Yoongi went mute. What did the card on that one say? He started panicking.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Kim Taehyung.”

The caller laughed in a way designed to specifically irritate Yoongi.

“We’ll see. Remember you only have till Friday to pay up.”

The line disconnected and Yoongi was left fuming, unable to collect his thoughts. He needed alcohol. Something. Anything. Just to douse the white-hot fire burning in his chest.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

“Mrs. Min?”

You had moved into the new studio only a couple months back. You primarily operated from home, but the studio was needed when you met other clients. Yoongi had set you up with a beautiful studio complete with hand-picked designers who assisted you.

“Yes?”

“Miss Yung is requesting to meet you tomorrow, for lunch.”

You looked at the calendar. Thursday was when you always went to see your parents. But Yung Min-Ji was a wonderful client, and you did have a lot to discuss with her about the styling of her new condo.

“Tell her I’m available.”

“But your usual schedule-“

You smiled lightly.

“I’ll go today instead. No worries.”

It wasn’t a sentiment to go only on Thursdays. It just happened to be that your schedules were light on that day of the week. You glanced at the time. 2 pm. You could use some fresh air.

There was a cool breeze when you stopped by the florist to get your mom’s flowers- carnations. You were walking absent-mindedly, coming to a stop in front of the headstone. You looked at the grave, confusion creasing your eyebrows.

There was a beautiful bouquet of white carnations laid neatly on each of your parents’ graves. The flowers were fresh as if someone had just laid them out. But no one was around. You were the only living person in the cemetery. You knelt down, finding a pool of molten wax. It was hard to the touch. Someone had come by earlier. Further inspection showed that both graves had indeed had carnations and one small lit candle on them. But, they were left by whom?

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

The sound of gravel crunching under the tires of your car woke Yoongi up. His head was throbbing. He held his head, steadying himself before getting up.

“Baby, I’m home!” your melodic voice chirped at the door.

Before he even got to hug you, he was met with your screeches, as you were hollering in excitement. You were jumping up and down in his arms, eyes shining in delight.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongiii-yaahhhh,” you crooned, grinning eagerly, “The flowers- was that you?”

There was a catch in his throat while Yoongi racked his brain.

“Uh- yes. Liked them?”

You swung yourself on his arms, giggling.

“Like? I loved them!”

Oh shit. He remembered the forgotten lilies on the counter. He had meant to throw them away. Damn. How would he explain them?

“Y/N,” he whispered, catching hold of you. “Go on and shower, I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, suddenly transported back to reality.

“Yoongi- you smell of whiskey.”

He turned his back to you, advancing in swift steps to grab the cursed lilies.

“I’ll be back.”

You made your way to the bedroom, mind still buzzing in happiness. You hadn’t even looked at the lilies.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Present day

The soil was wet under your shoes, from all the dew. The guards had shut up and let you leave on foot, without insisting on approval from their boss. Fucking privilege of being Mrs. Kim, ugh.

The faint smell of cut grass kissed your nostrils as you walked absently. It was still early in the morning, and the cool air helped ease your feverish tension. A man was raking leaves near your parents’ graves.

You walked faster, reaching his side just in time to see a bouquet of shrunken white carnations, withered and sad. There was molten wax on the cold marble, just like there had been before. The man sank to his knees, scraping off the wax gently. He didn’t even look your way.

But the flowers and candles? Who was it?

“Excuse me, um, sir?”

He raised his head, one good eye looking expectantly at you, while the other was clouded with cataract.

“Yes, miss?”

You gestured towards the graves.

“Those flowers… do you know who-“

“Aye, them flowers,” he shook his head, “I don’t know nothin’ about who leaves them.”

You crinkled your forehead.

“But you were cleaning the wax, so I-“

“Aye, miss. I been paid to keep these two graves clean. Good money for an odd job.”

Your heart started fluttering wildly.

“Paid? By whom?”

He made a stern face as if he were concentrating.

“Dunno. I been paid to take care of the graves as long as I live.”

He resumed scraping the wax, talking slowly.

“Man paid five grand, one time. Said ‘em graves should be kept spick and span.” He paused to turn around self-consciously. “He said he be checking on me, makin’ sure I ain’t skipped town with them money.”

You didn’t know what to think. It was a weird piece of information to process.

“How long since he paid you, sir?”

He closed his eyes, maybe he was thinking.

“Four years? Maybe five-ish,” he said when he finally opened them.

“Miss, tell him I be doing the work all right!”

The man hollered at your retreating back, nervous that you were spying on him.

You nodded, walking rapidly away. It was incomprehensible. It was a dream. Yes. You had probably dreamt it up. You would wake soon and find your husband’s killer draped all over you.

When you returned gloomily to the mansion, Taehyung was lounging on the sofa, flicking through the pages of a business magazine. You ignored him and made straight for the bedroom. It was only when you hit the shower that you remembered what day it was. Thursday.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“I’m going back to work.”

Taehyung lowered his glass, eyelashes almost dusting the rim of the glass.

“Doing what?”

You folded your hands, staring him down.

“Designing homes and offices.”

He grinned, sipping juice innocently as you tapped your foot in impatience.

“And who do you think wants Mrs. Kim to design for them?”

You hadn’t forgotten that the title alienated you from the rest of the elite. But hadn’t you a uniqueness of your own? You were sure they wouldn’t discriminate you. They were all your friends and Yoongi’s, weren’t they?

“I have friends.”

He took another long sip, smacking his lips just to annoy you.

“No, baby, you don’t. To them, you’re nothing but a traitor.”

“I’m not.” You were sure that he was just manipulating you into his twisted theories.

He tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Don’t believe me?” He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, extending it to you. “Go on, try calling someone.”

Your instinct was to dial Hoseok’s number. But you knew he would stay by your side forever. Calling him would be like mistrusting his friendship. You thought hard. Maybe you could call Mrs. Park.

You dialed her number feverishly, hoping she would pick up. You didn’t know you were holding your breath until the line clicked and a voice spoke out:

“Yes? Mrs. Park here.”

“Oh hello, Mrs. Park, I’m Y/N, how ar-“

She cut you off swiftly.

“Y/N? What is it, child?”

You nervously looked at Taehyung out of the corner of your eyes. He was leaning back, a bored look on his face as he blew raspberries. Twisting the hem of your tee, you chuckled consciously.

“I was wondering if you knew anyone who’s looking to-,” you licked your dry lips, “You know, to redo their apartments and stuff.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Ah Y/N, I wish I could help you. But you know, Jaewon found a new designer who specializes in Earth tones and my daughter says it’s the craze right now, so-“

“I see.”

Mrs. Park heaved a deep sigh.

“So, yeah, everyone is more interested in following that trend, naturally,” She was rambling to neutralize the awkwardness, “Besides, you’re pregnant and… I hope you don’t mind, dearie.”

“No, Mrs. Park, it’s fine.”

“Call me if you want anything, Y/N.” More like ‘Don’t disturb me again, Y/N.’

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You couldn’t bear to look at the gloating face that smirked at you. He was right. Everyone loved you only when you had been a Min. But as soon as Yoongi died, their allegiance had crumbled to dust.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to hate them, though. You had married Taehyung just months after Yoongi died. Married Kim Taehyung, of all people. It was a wonder that Mrs. Park had even picked the call.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Every morning, you stood before the mirror, gazing at your belly. There was no significant bump, but you could just feel the little piece of Yoongi stir inside you. It made your heart sing. How happy Yoongi would have been! How wonderful life would have been with him! Raising your child together, loving each other, looking into each other’s eyes, watching your skin sag and wrinkle; growing old, but your love never lessening.

It was ironic that every day felt like an eon with Taehyung. You were in constant tension around him, like an elastic band stretched to its maximum limit. Even his slightest moves made you nervous. If he reached over for salt, you were left trembling. If he walked out of the shower in his boxers, your heart raced. Everything about him kept you on edge, scared that he would pounce on you without a moment’s notice.

Things came to a head the next Tuesday. You were getting ready to go out for your doctor’s appointment. Taehyung emerged from the shower, rubbing the towel against his wet hair as he walked to the closet mirrors, standing next to you.

His studied your yellow floral dress, only the slightest hint of belly was proof that another human was growing inside you. A tight thread of jealousy snapped inside Taehyung. Yoongi had made love to you, cummed in you, leaving you pregnant. He fumed in jealousy, getting into his pants and picking out his shirt.

He was adjusting his tie when he saw you swirl the tube of lip balm. The same brand you had used for years, lending that delicious glossy sheen on your lips that kept haunting him in his dreams. His tie was left forgotten, and he reached his hand out to gently pull you closer. The sudden rigidity of your body reminded him of a startled kitten.

“What, babe?” He crooned, drawing you nearer. “Go on, wear it.”

When you didn’t comply, he plucked the tube out of your fingers, smearing a glossy coat of lip balm on your lips. He could see the visible heaving of your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure.

Pinning you with your back against the closet mirror, he dipped his head to ghost his breath over your lips. The fruity smell made him go crazy.

Without warning, his tongue licked a hot trail over your upper lip, following the natural curve of your cupid’s bow. He smacked his lips, groaning in lust, and went in to savor your lower lip too.

“Your lips look better with my saliva, baby,” he murmured, gently nibbling on your lips and sucking on the plump soft flesh.

He was heady with need, nibbling harder and pushing himself closer against you. When you tried pushing against his chest, he got mad.

“How long do you think I’ll wait? Huh?” His voice was thick in a mix of anger and want. “Think I’d just fuck my hand forever?”

Your throat felt hollow and itchy when you voiced out:

“I don’t want to-“

His face crumpled in anger.

“Well, too bad, because I want to.”

Still in his pants, he thrust his clothed crotch into your pelvis, the floral skirt allowing him to feel the mound between your legs. He used his knee to keep your legs spread, while he went on thrusting against you. The friction made him curse out loud. One of his hands sneaked to catch hold of your throat, and he nestled his forehead against your shoulder blade, never stopping his thrusts.

His moans grew louder, quicker, and more intense. He bit the soft skin on your shoulder as he reached his climax. He panted in your ear, deep breaths reverberating through his body. With a heavy moan, he licked the bite mark and straightened his back, watching you warily.

Your eyes were closed, face frozen and impassive.

He hadn’t been able to control himself. When he thought about it, he hadn’t even touched his dick once, and yet his seed was all over his underwear. That was how much you affected him.

When he pushed off of you, you still hadn’t opened your eyes.

“Thought I’d change,” he drawled lazily, biting his lip. “But on second thought, I’ll go to work in my creamed pants. It’ll remind me of you all day.”

A drop of salty water rolled down your closed lid.

There were only sounds of him moving around, grabbing his phone, keys and stuff, and then silence.

He hadn’t even touched a button on your dress. But you had never felt so open and vulnerable in your entire life.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung was in a serious discussion with his board when the intercom rang. He threw an angry glance at Na Yeon, who bowed so deep he could see her cleavage clear as day.

She hurried to answer, looking at him beseechingly.

Taehyung did not like his meetings interrupted. Calls were always screened while he was in discussion. Only an important person or an important matter could bypass the screening.

“What?”

“I am to put it on speakerphone,” Na Yeon replied meekly.

“Do it then.” He was losing his patience.

“Kim Taehyung, you fucking son of a bitch!”

Everyone in the boardroom was startled, looking at each other in panic.

“How dare you take advantage of me like that? You insufferable, disgusting prick!”

Taehyung leaned back in his chair, playing with his pen.

“You miserable bag of shit, I swear I’ll cut your balls off!”

Taehyung drummed his knuckles on the desk, waiting for the tirade to stop.

“You are the vilest asshole on earth!”

The line went dead, and a stunned silence prevailed in the room. Taehyung rose again, going back to the whiteboard. He huffed at the mute people staring at him. He didn’t lose an ounce of his cool.

“So, let’s pick up where we left off…”

After everyone left, Na Yeon stayed back to apologize. Taehyung noticed that there was a beauty mark on her chest, right near the button of her blouse. Well, it wouldn’t have been visible if she had buttoned up her blouse. Maybe she felt sexy. Whatever. He didn’t really care.

“I’m sorry about the phone call, Mr. Kim.”

“It was nothing.” He shrugged it off, he wasn’t very bothered.

She continued unmindful of his disinterest.

“I should have tried to cut the call, I shall screen her next-“

His features suddenly flashed with annoyance.

“She is my wife. She should never be screened. Besides, she has every right to yell at me.” He sneered at Na Yeon as he bit out his words. “You don’t have any right to cut my wife’s call.”

With that, he stormed out of the boardroom, leaving his secretary shocked into silence.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

That evening, when Taehyung returned home, you were in the sitting room, legs crossed. Your mouth was set in a straight line. You were giving off a stubborn aura, and Taehyung fought the smile that threatened to curl his lips up.

“Aren’t you gonna kiss your husband, Mrs. Kim?”

The hot glare didn’t alarm him in the least.

He loosened his tie, sighing in that deep voice of his. It made the hair on your arms stand up. He settled down on the couch, just next to you.

“I enjoyed the telephonic love note today,” he said, fiddling with his cufflinks. He proceeded to unbuckle his belt.

“Especially because my pants were crusted with cum.” He threw his belt on the floor. “Thanks to you.”

You jumped to your feet, wagging a finger at him, screeching in mutiny.

“Don’t ever do that again, you scumbag.”

“Why not?” Mock surprise danced on his face. “Didn’t you agree to marry me?”

“I didn’t agree to be violated, Kim Taehyung.”

He puffed out his cheeks, disinterested.

“You didn’t leave me any other choice.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did he expect you to jump on his lap and love him? After he snatched everything you loved away from you? Was he insane?

You threw your arms up, scoffing incredulously.

“How on Earth do you think I’ll ever love you?” The very idea made you gag. “After you killed my husband? Do you have no regret?”

He scanned his fingernails, pouting his lips in mock hurt. His voice was soft.

“I didn’t kill him on my own.”

“What?” The tic on your mouth made your face twitch. “What the fuck are you saying?”

He lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“Everything I did was because I loved you. For you.”

You stared at him, no words coming to mind. You had been sure that you were only the spoils of the war between his family and Yoongi’s. You didn’t believe for one second that Taehyung loved you.

“When you think about it, the reason I killed him was you.”

Your jaw dropped. The sputtering of your mouth made it impossible to frame comprehensible words.

“Me?”

“Mmhmm. In a sense, you killed Yoongi.”

No, no. this wasn’t happening. You had never done anything to hurt Yoongi. He was your love, your precious baby. No, Taehyung was babbling nonsense.

“Shut up,” you whispered, voice shaking.

He smirked at you.

“Think, baby. He wouldn’t have died if you had said ‘Yes’ when I asked you nicely.”

Memories of that fateful day at his office, clad in pajamas and feeling his bulge pressing against you came tumbling back.

It was a struggle to find your voice. “No.”

“Accept that you killed him, Y/N.”

Your vision blurred with tears and you repeated again, “No.”

A shit-eating grin spread on his face. He unzipped himself, sliding into a more comfortable position.

“Would you rather say you killed him or suck my cock?”

The first drop rolled down your cheek, and he repeated his question, voice darker and laced with lust.

You grasped for words. “Don’t do this to me.”

Your plea made him impatient. He wanted the cold war to end already. How long were you going to mourn Yoongi? He didn’t really want to fuck you when you were heavy with that man’s child.

“Either suck my cock or admit that Min died because of you.”

He waited with bated breath, observing the whirlpool of emotions flashing on your face. And then, to his utter delight, you wordlessly sank to your knees.

He unzipped his pants, giddy with excitement. Your face was devoid of emotion. The tears had stopped, leaving stains on both your cheeks. He waited for you to reach and touch him. When it didn’t happen, he lifted his hips off the couch, annoyed.

“My cock isn’t gonna pop into your mouth on its own, babygirl.”

Nothing.

He reached out and grabbed your head, pulling you in so your nose was against his clothed dick. He felt like he would burst at the feeling. He moaned out as he rubbed your face against him, the groans coming out harsh and strained.

He couldn’t wait for you to take him out, so he fished himself out of his boxers, grazing the tip against your lips. The blunt disgust on your face only made him even hornier, and he coated all his pre-cum onto your lips.

“Fuck, Y/N, my cum looks better on you than my saliva does.”

He pressed the sides of your jaw to pucker your mouth open, placing himself inside your warm mouth.

“Go on, baby. Suck.”

He caught your eyes and added in a dangerous tone, “Don’t you dare bite, I’ll fucking kick that bastard to death.” He looked ominously at your belly. He knew your sore point.

Swallowing your pride, you let his muscle glide in and out of your mouth.

“That’s not sucking, babygirl.”

Your spat at him in fury. “Fucking suck yourself.”

He made as if to kick your midsection, and you screamed in alarm. The tips of his toes made slight contact with your ribs and you yelled for him to stop.

“Stop it, stop it, don’t,” you never wanted to sob in front of him, but it just happened out of your control.

“Well, suck it then. And don’t close your eyes.”

You worked on him robotically, trying to trample down the sick guilt that rose up in your chest with each bob.

He groaned and growled, cursing at the sensation of your velvety tongue. He wouldn’t mind if he died and went to heaven. Before he even knew it, he was close to his release. He panted out, cumming hard into your mouth.

You remained in position, not attempting to swallow. He knew you were going to spit it out as soon as you humanly could. His fingers closed around your neck.

“Swallow. Now.”

The pressure slowly increased, threatening to choke you. Your delirious brain conjured a coroner’s report. Cause of death: Choking on cum.

Reflexively, your body fought by opening and closing your pharynx, effectively making you swallow his slimy essence.

Taehyung felt the bob of your throat, his chest puffing up with pride. He lifted you up gently, holding onto the nape of your neck. He gazed at your glistening cupid’s bow, and slowly pressed his lips on yours.

He had never seen your naked breasts, but that could wait. He was already swimming in rabid delight.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Thank you for agreeing to do this interview, Mr. Kim,” the man said, setting up his notepad and pen.

Taehyung grunted in answer. His mind was somewhere else. He had been in a fight with you over names. He had wanted you to officially change your family name. But you had refused. He hated the Min that rang along with your name. It made him want to puke when someone ever addressed you that way.

“I will not change my name,” you had said, stubbornly set in defiance.

He adored your stubborn trait, but when it came to matters involving that damned Min Yoongi, he hated your obstinacy.

“You fucking will.”

“Make me.” You had folded your hands, indicating that you would not be swayed.

Taehyung was at his office, thinking of ways to coerce you into taking his name. That was when the reporter arrived for a quick interview.

The man started off with questions about Taehyung’s business, his financial turn over and assorted boring stuff, which he answered robotically.

Out of nowhere, the question popped up, making him raise his eyebrows mildly.

“Is it true that Mr. Min and you were friends?”

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

“Of course, we were.”

“But, Mr. Kim, a lot of people expressed surprise at your claim of being friends with him.”

“People like who?”

“People who thought you married Mrs. Min a bit too soon.”

Taehyung snapped in annoyance: “She’s Mrs. Kim now.”

“Exactly my point, Mr. Kim.”

Maybe you would consider changing your name if he compromised. But how?

“Well, Mr. Kim?”

“Huh?” Taehyung had a hard time not thinking of you. “I wanted to help her out, especially after he deserted her, while she was pregnant.”

“How did you know she was pregnant? You testified in court that you didn’t know her too well.” The man leaned forward eagerly. “How did she consent to marry you so soon?”

Taehyung could smell a bait from a mile away. The man wasn’t interested in him after all. He was scoping out facts about you.

“What is it that you want?”

His tone made it clear that he knew what was going on. The man cut to the chase abruptly.

“Did you kill Mr. Min?”

Taehyung swiveled on his chair, taking his sweet time.

“Yes. I killed him.”

The abrupt admittance started his opponent, making him open and close his mouth like a goldfish. When he saw how flustered the man was, Taehyung continued:

“You got your answer, what more do you want to know?”

“But- but why did you –” the man was bewildered. “Mrs. Min, she was on trial, you testified against her.”

“Yes, I did.”

“She could have gone to prison.”

“Right again. Don’t beat around the bush.”

“Was it-” the man swallowed, “-an affair? Did you both plot to kill Mr. Min?”

Taehyung laughed. How he wished that had been the case. He would have been spared a lot of trouble if that were true.

The man wiped his forehead nervously.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Nothing, I’m just imagining how your head would look like on a stake.” Taehyung smiled fondly. “You know, my children would happily play with it.”

Children. Name. Maybe he could compromise on that bastard child’s name? Would that make you think again?

Taehyung’s attention snapped back to watch the man gulp several times, obviously shaken.

“So, did you get the answers you wanted?” He exhaled lightly, adding, “My secretary has your name and contact details, my men would pay you a friendly visit if you blabbered anything anywhere.”

“I- yes, I understand.” The man got up in a hurry. “Please excuse me.”

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

When the reporter left the building, his phone vibrated with a message.

‘Any news?’

He called the sender.

“There’s nothing to report. I’m pretty sure neither Mr. Kim nor Y/N had anything to do with Mr. Min’s disappearance.”

The call ended, and Namjoon sighed. He knew something had happened. Something had gone wrong.

But the reporter couldn’t glean anything from Taehyung. The seeds of doubt took root in his mind. Was it possible that he had imagined the conspiracy? What if there had been no conspiracy and Yoongi really had fled?

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“I have a proposal.”

You looked up from your curled kitten position on the deckchair, overlooking the pool. You were cross that Taehyung had interrupted your attempt at sketching Yoongi.

“Not interested.”

He pranced forward, plucking the sketchbook and tossing it away. The splash of it hitting the water sent droplets flying up and raining on your feet.

“What the hell d’you do that for?”

The reflection of the sun in the ripples of the pool made his face light up and sparkle. He placed both his hands on the armrests, trapping you.

“You will take my name.”

“Forget it.”

“In return,” he whispered softly, “You get to name your baby whatever the fuck you want.”

“I am the mother and I don’t need you to offer me what’s already my right.”

He butted your forehead with his own, clucking his tongue in impatience.

“You really don’t want your baby to see the light of day, do you?”

The scowl on your face was reflexive. It was a bother that he always used your baby as an excuse to get his way.

“Fuck off, Taehyung.”

He threw himself bodily on you, willing a strangled gasp to escape your lips. He spread your arms and upper body to align them with the chair, opening your torso up to him. He was already panting, cursing out as he spread your legs with his knee.

“C’mon now, babygirl, stop being so stubborn.”

He sunk his whole weight onto you, crushing your body underneath him.

The graphite pencil you had been using to sketch was still in your fingers. Mustering up all your strength, you dove it into the back of his neck.

He hissed in pain, jerking involuntarily and pulling the pencil off your grasp. When you struggled to let it go, he placed a well-aimed slap on your cheek, making you freeze in shock.

“You little brat,” he spat out, still pissed about his neck. His palms made contact with your cheeks twice more, sending your face jerking left and right.

“I’ll teach you to stab me, you little-“

He bunched both your hands by the wrist, holding them up above your head. His other hand sneaked between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. When you tried to wriggle and throw him off, his knee dug into your midsection.

“Want to destroy what we have?” He sunk his knee a little deeper. “Huh, sugar?”

His finger was rubbing circles on your core, making you bite your lips from moaning out.

“Fuck, I’m permanently hard around you.”

His hard length was obvious in the tent of his pants. But as before, he humped against you, not unzipping himself. The friction was making him go wild. He thrust his hips into yours, the knee remaining ominously on your navel.

“Ah ssibal,” he cursed, throwing his head back, consequently making his long dark hair flip and reveal his glistening forehead.

“Oh… Oh.. I’m cumming,” he breathed out, spasming violently all over you, digging himself out of you and spilling his cum all over your clothed belly.

“Ew, Taehyung, you bitch, you’re fucking disgusting,” you screamed, pushing against his chest even as he shuddered in the aftermath of his orgasm. He smiled dumbly, panting out in ragged breaths. He placed his mouth near your ear, tickling your earlobe with his hot breath.

“I want to cum inside you.”

He sighed deeply as if he was thinking quietly about it, before adding:

“Soon.”

He pushed off you, grinning as he ruffled his hair back into place. Whistling softly, he walked away, leaving you trembling in a mix of shock and anger, looking down at your ruined dress.

He had cummed exactly on your belly, like he had carefully meant to.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The annual costume ball invitations reached your house, one addressed to Mr. Kim and one addressed to Mrs. Min. Taehyung had torn the envelope into pieces before handing you the card. It was probably a snide attempt to snub Taehyung and you knew that it had worked, judging from the annoyance on his face. You wondered if the hosts had intended to send you late invitations, because the ball was slated to happen that night.

You threw it on the coffee table, not caring in the least about some stupid party. But Taehyung had other ideas.

“We’re going tonight. Get ready.”

If the stuck-up Min empaths thought they had made a statement by sending two fucking invitations, they would have to think again. He would show them what fools they were. You were his Mrs. Kim.

The burgundy dress had a cowl neckline, which he absolutely loved. He had picked it out carefully, mind giddy with excitement on how perfect it would look on you. Finally, a day had come for the glamorous dress to do you justice, flattering your body, much to the envy of those losers.

“Wear the burgundy dress I bought you. And the studded heels.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He opened his closet, apparently searching for something. When he turned, a classic Tiffany box was nestled in his palm. He opened it, and a sparkling silvery bracelet was reflected in your eyes, lending them a beautiful twinkle that made his heart sing.

Delicately, he placed it on the dresser.

“This will compliment you.”

He stood silent for a second, thinking if you would wear it on your own. Something told him you would just leave it sitting on the dresser forever.

“Here,” he took your hand in his, gently placing the bracelet on your wrist. He clasped it and admired the way it looked even more beautiful on you. To him, each fiber of your being was infinitely more precious than the rarest diamonds in the world.

He had never seen anyone more beautiful, and he wished not to. When you descended the porch steps, he felt like a footman taking out a princess on her ride. He was mesmerized by the simple yet graceful features that taunted him, inviting him in.

Taehyung had Wo Bin drive you both to the ball. Taehyung handed you a sparkling rhinestone mask, the wings around the eyes rising gracefully in showers of gemstones. The costume ball was essentially a masquerade, and he had gotten the best masks he could lay his hands on.

“Take my hand, remember, no silly behavior.” He briefly glanced at your belly, driving home his point.

“Stop fucking threatening me all the time, bitch,” you hissed, scowling when he responded with a lazy grin.

The entire ballroom was abuzz with people clad in their best clothes, complete with masks of every color, style, and material. Taehyung’s chest was stretched to the max with pride as he waltzed through the floors with the most beautiful woman that night on his arm.

A couple hours later, you were weary to the bone. “I’m tired, I wanna throw up.”

He rolled his masked eyes. “Right. Stay here, I’ll get you water.”

He turned around as an afterthought. “Want me to walk you to a bathroom?”

You shook your head, indicating you were fine enough to just sit.

“ ’Kay.”

He went off, leaving you seated in a comfortable chair.

He was, however, interrupted mid-way by a woman dressed in a jade green dress with a deep neckline that left almost nothing to the imagination. The Venetian mask lent an air of mystery to her ombre eyes.

“Mr. Kim,” her voice was hauntingly thick with desire.

She placed her index finger delicately against his tux, poking him. “I’ve been fantasizing about you for years.”

He couldn’t form a coherent comeback. He was a man who prided on never being tongue-tied while facing a woman. But the simple statement had such force that it knocked his thoughts out like bowling pins.

“Uh, excuse me, I have to-“

She traced her fingers on his arm, patting him slowly, whispering:

“Please stay.”

He couldn’t believe how tongue-tied he was. He flashed his left hand at her, declaring in a harsh tone:

“I’m sorry but I’m married. Very happily so.”

“Is that true, though?” Her voice dropped even lower. “You are married, yes, but have you been loved back? Why pine after a hopeless fruit while another aches for you?”

He shook his hand free, annoyed. Very much annoyed that she was stating the bitter truth that his heart refused to believe.

“Excuse me, I have to go back to my wife.”

“Maybe you could at least dance with me once?”

His jaw tightened.

“No, thank you.”

She pouted her crimson lips, sadness clouding her eyes.

“I thought so.” She touched his elbow with a smooth “At least a peck on the cheek for your admirer?”

He bent his neck, intrigued by the strange woman, but she took him by surprise, going instead for his lips.

Her tongue snuck out and outlined the curve of his upper lip before her mouth pressed against his. Startled, he took a step back and his gaze dropped to the cleavage she was generously offering. She giggled naughtily, winking at him. Damn the woman.

The hot feeling in his cheeks didn’t go away for a good five minutes, and he was still pink when he returned with the glass of water he had set out to get.

He frowned when he saw a tall man talking to you, bending in half to address you.

“You, you are just a gold-digging bitch, you whore,” the masked man was saying, just as Taehyung materialized behind him.

“Excuse the fuck, did you just fucking insult my wife?”

The man straightened up, turning to glare at Taehyung. His mask did nothing to hide who he was. The hooded eyes, the tall lithe frame, the rich timbre of voice, all screamed Kim Namjoon.

He dug his hands into his pockets, staring at Taehyung with menace.

“Yes, I called her out for jumping on another dick as soon as she could.” He focused his most hostile leer at Taehyung before adding “The dick being attached to you of all people.” He didn’t stop, spewing more hate as he addressed you:

“Are you sure the baby is Yoongi’s, Y/N? Did he ever know what a cunt you are?”

The anger was so hot that Taehyung felt like his brain would short circuit. He balled his fists, ready to shatter the mouth that had spoken so ill of you.

Before he could do any damage though, you grabbed hold of his hand, tugging at him harshly.

“Take me home, I feel sick.”

He sent Namjoon one withering glance and exhaled angrily. Namjoon would pay later. He would make sure of it. He guided you out, practically shaking in fury. He texted Wo Bin to meet both of you on the porch. He was zoned out, and you asked something that just flew out his ear. When you slapped his elbow, he caught your words just in time.

“Is that lipstick on your mouth?”

Taehyung creased his eyebrows, turning back to consider something. The masked woman, she had licked his mouth before kissing. It was a kink of his to lick your lips. How did she know that he loved doing that to you?

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The way Namjoon had spoken to you felt like a cold slap to the face. If that was what he thought, was that what everyone else thought of you too? The whole social circle of which you and Taehyung were a small intersecting arc, did it think you were a gold-digger too?

The shame enveloped and consumed you, the flames of hatred licking at your heart. Your entire life was ruined by Taehyung. Only he was responsible for all the mess. Everyone seemed to focus only on you. He was in the background like an innocent bystander; but all the while, he was the puppeteer who pulled all the strings, bending everything to his will.

A bitter cold war was brewing between you and him, growing in intensity by the second. You had avoided him for days, slipping like an eel whenever his footsteps sounded. Every night, you slept on the couch, only to wake up on your side of the bed in the morning.

It was hard to sleep. Because you were constantly worried that he would violate you while you were sleeping.

You didn’t know that Taehyung spent three-quarters of the night perched on the steps of the staircase, waiting for you to drift to sleep. He silently swooped in and carried you to bed each night, making sure to tuck you in comfortably.

A few weeks later, you dressed up in a loose black hoodie and attempted to sneak out for a walk. But just as always, he caught you. He had casually blocked you with an outstretched hand, looking at you oddly.

“What the heck are you wearing?”

You tried to force your way out, but man was he strong.

“Get out of my way, Taehyung.”

He blew out his cheeks, shaking his head in disapproval.

“That hoodie is the opposite of flattering on you, honey.”

Curling your fists, you hit him on his arm, trying to make him move.

“I don’t care, so let me go,” you hissed at him.

“I care about my wife’s fashion choices,” he replied, reaching out to grab the hoodie. But just as quickly, he drew his hand back in shock.

“What the…” he whispered, horrified, reaching his hand out again.

His fingers gingerly pressed against your belly, feeling the small bump that was evident to the touch. He started back in horror. It really was growing. The reality hit him like a harsh slap. Min’s child was really growing inside you.

In one swift motion, he gathered you up in his arms, deciding that he couldn’t waste any more time. He couldn’t wait forever.

Dragging you upstairs to the bedroom, he led you to stand by the bed. His face was ablaze with hot emotion, his dark eyes gleaming with fiery hunger. He shrugged his suit off in haste. Long slender fingers gripped your hoodie, lifting it up to reveal the soft protrusion he had touched earlier. He looked panicked, like a guy who had missed the last airplane bound home.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he breathed, gently trying to undress you. “Forgive me, I am out of time.”

He pressed kisses on the side of your neck, lifting the hoodie up inch by inch until the cups of your bra were visible.

“Oh, Y/N, I-“ his voice was strangled, “- I can’t,” his hands found purchase at the small of your back. “I can’t take you when you are ripe with his child, I can’t wait that long.”

He eased you out of the hoodie, holding your hands to prevent you from covering your bra-clad breasts. He had only entered you once, he hadn’t forced himself into you since the day Yoongi died.

It had been his desire to wait for you to want him. But nature always liked complicating things. He couldn’t bear to think that you would be heavy with child in a few months, and would be busily occupied with the baby for months after that. No, he had no choice.

He was sliding your pants off when you half-choked out: “You could just… let me go.”

The wetness of your cheeks broke his heart. But your words had hurt him more.

“No. No, I can’t. You are all I have.”

“You know that’s not true,” you whispered.

The pained look returned to his face.

“No. It should have been me.” He gestured to your belly. “That should have been mine.” A tear rolled down his cheek, and he sniffed. “It should have always been me.”

“Taehyung- “

His lashes were moist and he shook his head, not wanting to listen.

“You were meant to be mine. Don’t you see?” His haunted eyes were tender, his raw feelings on display just for you.

“Do you- do you even like me?”

You remained silent, nothing but underwear bridging the gap between you and nakedness. His face contorted in pain.

He shuddered and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling both your hands above your head and pinning them in position. His other hand gingerly traced the outline of your bra. He licked his lips, looking into your eyes as he dipped a finger between your breasts, running it along the elastic strap and leaving your skin riddled with goosebumps.

His finger continued running down your midriff, stopping at your belly button. He closed his eyes and pretended that the bump didn’t exist, hurrying to slip his hand into your undies. It fanned his ego to feel your wet folds.

“See, your body likes it, hm? Why do you rebel so much?”

He leaned down to sniff your hair, greedily inhaling the scent like a man dying of thirst. He removed the hand pinning yours with a warning squeeze. Just as quickly, his hands flew to your breasts. His touch was ever so tender. He gently kneaded the soft flesh, moaning out as a little bit of areola peeked out of your bra. The self-control snapped, and he pulled the cups down, exposing your squished breasts.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he sounded so raspy, “Fuck, you’re so goddamn beautiful.”

Like a man in a trance, he dipped his head in the valley of your chest, nestling there, letting out the weakest of whimpers. His fingers worked feverishly to get the damn bra off you. He threw it across the room, burying his head in your bosom with a contented sigh.

There was a stark contrast between you and him. He was fully clothed, and you were in only your undies, entire chest open to his view. It led you to feel even more weak and vulnerable. When your hand tried to shield your breast though, he caught it, his voice came out from between your soft mounds in a muffled whisper:

“Don’t.”

He gathered both your breasts in his hands, moaning thickly as he rubbed his face against them. His tongue found your nipple, giving tentative licks before full-on sucking on the nub. He was a passionate man, and your breasts were glistening with saliva by the time he was done worshipping them. His mouth let go of the nipple with a soft plop, the dark eyes focused on your own the whole time.

His tongue drew a line from the middle of your ribs down to your navel. He paused at the elastic band of your undies, working on tugging it down. But impatience got the better of him, and he cursed, ripping the fabric easily as if it were the weakest of paper. He touched the wet patch on the crotch and looked at you, dangling the ruined fabric above your forehead.

“See. Y/N? See how wet you are for me?”

You didn’t reply. He gripped your chin, yanking it so his breath fell directly on your mouth.

“Kiss me, Y/N.”

When you didn’t attempt to kiss him, he straddled your hips, crashing his mouth down on yours. But the kiss wasn’t passionate, nor was it anywhere near romantic. You just wouldn’t open your mouth and let his tongue in. He could have kissed a pole and gotten a better reaction than yours.

It kindled the embers of rage in his heart, and he undid his tie, tying it around your neck like a noose. His shirt and pants were still on, and he rolled the long end of the tie until the fabric started tightening around your neck.

“Up,” he said, tugging the tie and making your head rise from the bed a bit. Holding onto it like a leash, he pulled your upper body was hovering precariously above the bed, both your hands holding onto his shoulders lest you fall and snap your neck.

“Now,” he hissed, “Lick my tongue”

The tie-noose tightened around your neck, threatening to cut off your airflow. You hoisted yourself up, shaking as your sight started to blur.

“Can’t” you heaved, “breathe.”

The fabric didn’t relax one bit.

“Hurry up and lick my tongue then.”

You blindly slashed at the air to find his mouth. Right on the verge of blacking out, you thrust yourself at him, begging entry into his mouth with desperate licks. Once you felt the hot muscle, you lapped at it, and just as quickly, the tightness eased, making you gulp mouthfuls of him, your body struggling to get your respiration back to normal.

“You bast-“

He thrust himself at you again, muttering:

“Shh. Lick me again,” and dipping his tongue into your mouth.

He moaned, chest vibrating against yours with the intensity of his strangled groans. When he broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your mouth to his, a big bead hanging in the middle, the weight making it drop and splotch on your thigh.

He leaned back working on his shirt buttons. They didn’t open fast enough, and he started ripping the buttons off, eyes locked on your nipples. When he tore the fabric away from his body, his whole wide chest was naked, save for a thin chain around his neck. It had what looked like a silver key for a pendant, you weren’t sure as it kept dangling with his every move.

He remained in his pants, gathering your body and pressing you against his chest. A strained moan escaped his lips, and he trailed kisses down your neck, past your shoulder blade. His tongue flicked out to reach places his lips couldn’t.

One hand cupped the slight hint of your bump, prodding gently but also warning you against doing anything stupid. He pulled your hand towards his crotch, placing it on his clothed bulge.

“See,” he moaned, “See what you do to me?”

He stroked his bulge with your hand, fighting the urge to close his eyelids and lose himself in bliss. He had been hard for so long. Too fucking long.

“Take me out.”

His whisper sent a shiver up your spine. But you didn’t move. You didn’t have a choice to stop it. But you had the choice to not comply.

He cursed, too impatient to reprimand you. He unzipped his pants, leading your hand to his hard dick. He closed his hand over yours, effectively jerking himself off with your hand.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it,” he threw his head back, snapping his eyes open just as quickly when you gripped his dick too tight. Intentionally, of course.

“What the fuck?” He pushed you onto your back, dragging you by the legs into position. All the tenderness had evaporated from his countenance.

“You really want to screw this?” He hovered his body over yours, menace evident in the curl of his lips. The squirming pissed him, and a swift slap landed on your cheek, accompanied by an angry “Fucking behave, Y/N.”

“Get off me,” you bit out, aware of the drool sliding down your chin.

“No,” he said, humping his dick against your pelvis. “You are mine. Don’t fight this. He’s not coming back. He’s dead.”

He saw the tears kindling, and added cruelly:

“Because of you.”

“Stop saying that,” you screamed, trying to knee him in the groin. But he only laughed.

“You always complicate things, Y/N. I only want to make love to you.” He sighed innocently. “But you just make it so difficult.”

His forearm dug into your neck, preventing your head from moving. His other hand snaked down to your soaked clit, rubbing circles on your sensitive pearl.

“Who was always a bitch in heat for Min’s dick, huh?”

The question left you speechless. He smirked.

“Who loved to ride his thigh and get her ass spanked?”

“Shut up, shut up.” you couldn’t think of any other reply. How did he know all of that?

He simply shrugged.

“Okay, sure. I’d rather fuck you than talk about your dead man.”

He really wanted to eat you out. But he knew you would kick him in the face if he tried to. Maybe he should get restraints before trying that. Besides, his dick was already aching with being hard for so long. He slid his pants off completely, getting in position, aligning himself with your entrance.

He placed his forearm against your belly, deciding it gave him better leverage that way. Looking down, he inched himself forward, watching in fascination as he disappeared into you, your bodies becoming one. Just like they had always been meant to be.

The silky walls were tight around him, and he held on for dear life. You were going to be the death of him.

“Fuck, ah, fuck,” his breath constricted, the finality of actually being inside your velvety folds driving him crazy in exhilaration. He set a fast pace, snapping his hips into yours as if his life depended on it.

“Tell me how it feels, baby,” he cooed, “to know you killed Yoongi for this cock.”

Your whole face burned in rage.

“No, you tell me, how it feels to know you killed a good man for a piece of pussy.”

He chortled, not slowing down in the least.

“Awesome, really,” he panted out, licking his lips as he kept thrusting. “I can kill a whole army for this pussy.” He was not ready yet to say ‘It’s not just your body, it’s you I want. The whole you.’

He pulled the tie around your neck, telling you to get on all fours.

“I can’t dumbfuck, I’m pregnant,” you spat out.

He simply flipped you over, crossing both your hands over your chest so you were kneeling on the bed, with his hands pressing your wrists against your breasts.

“Shit, baby, how are you so tight? Guess he never filled you like I do, huh?”

His tongue licked the back of your ears as he kept thrusting. You were doing your best to not make any sound. You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

“Tell me,” he panted, driving himself deeper, “Tell me I’m bigger than him.”

His finger slipped into the tie-noose, twisting the knot.

“Say it.”

You were sure he wouldn’t stop. Panic flooded your body, jumping into escape mode.

“Fine, you’re bigger.”

A dark chuckle rang throughout his chest, making your breasts bounce as aftermath.

“Be more specific, baby. Describe it.”

There was another tight twist, and you gave up.

“Your dick, it’ bigger, it’s- Fuck, I can’t breathe- It’s thicker, it’s longer, okay?”

He smiled into your skin. Gently loosening the tie, he kissed the light welts around your neck.

“Let me hear it again.”

“You’re bigger than him,” you repeated in defeat.

“Fuck yeah, that’s my girl. Cum around me, baby.”

His groans were loud and animalistic, like those of a man possessed. His pounding got frantic, rattling the headboard and eliciting curses from your parched throat.

God, how he wanted to fuck Min’s spawn out of you and fuck his seed into you instead! The thought sent him spinning into his climax, releasing hot ropes of cum into your tight walls. The growls from his chest chilled your blood. He held you incredibly tight against him, riding his wave out, clutching onto your ribs in passion.

The shivering sigh blew against your ears, and he gently pulled out, kissing down your shoulders and back as he did so. Your knees gave out, sending you collapsing down, but his hands caught you just in time.

When he had finished prodding and poking his fingers in your clit to feel his cum, he uttered in a ghost of a whisper:

“You cummed for me, baby.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Were you ready to kill Taehyung? To be frank, you didn’t really know. It was an idea that had crossed your mind millions of times. But taking another life was too horrible to even comprehend. On the other hand, it was a fact that he would continue to make your life hell.

It was a difficult decision, but one you had to face. Were you doomed to live forever with him? Take all his obsessed declarations of love for you? Live in constant fear that he would hurt your child?

Was it worth killing a human for peace? You looked down at your baby bump. He was going to be a terrible father to your baby. The orange canister by the lawn was just alluring. Was all the solution you ever needed in a can of garden pesticide?

The throbbing of your heart was so loud you were sure the guard could hear it. But now you were not just any woman. You were his boss’s wife. Hell, every guard in the fucking house addressed you respectfully.

“Mrs. Kim?” The man stepped towards you with a question on his eyebrows.

“I want the lawn to myself for some time.”

Usually, there were no guards by the pool. Taehyung would pluck their eyes out if any of them snuck up on you while swimming. But the lawn was a different story. There were a lot of guys walking around with guns. It surprised you to see them file out of the lawn like a bunch of disciplined kids.

But you knew their focus would be on you anyway. They didn’t serve you, they served Taehyung.

Making an elaborate show of tending to flowers and picking weeds, you loudly muttered at the gardener’s apparent failure to keep the flower beds weeded out. Kneeling down near the orange can, you unscrewed the lid with an air of ignorance.

“Foul smelling shit, what the hell is it?”

The can toppled over your dress, soaking the cotton. Just like you had expected, a man shot out of nowhere, hurrying to your side.

“Are you alright, Mrs. Kim?”

You batted your eyelashes inoocently at him.

“I- yes, I need to change. I think gardening and I don’t mix.”

He accompanied you inside, turning back to leave. Once upstairs, you nervously wrung out the poison from your soaked skirt.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“What’s that?”

Taehyung had asked sooner than you had expected. You feigned surprise at the question, looking over to where his eyes pointed.

“Oh, nothing.”

Much to your chagrin, he nodded and went back to tapping on his phone. What if he didn’t ask again? Well, you could try again later. Patience. You couldn’t get caught.

Getting up slowly, you danced your way to the fridge. You peeked at the contents, closing it with a sigh. Turning to look at the counter, you absently reached for the cup. You were cradling it in your hands, and just as you let your lips touch the rim, he raised his head.

“Coffee?”

You shook your head. “Protein shake.”

He placed his phone on the coffee table, gazing intently at you.

“Well, aren’t you going to drink it?”

“Oh, yes.”

You sipped from the cup, not minding his stare boring into your face. He leaned back, spreading his arms on the sofa. His face was unreadable. When your throat bobbed after the last bit of drink, he raised his eyebrows mildly.

“Done?”

You shrugged your shoulders, without answering. He considered your face for quite some time, before his curiosity got the better of him.

“So, should I call the ambulance?”

You bit back a grin.

“What for? I’m not in labor yet.”

He watched you suspiciously before giving up.

“I know about the pesticide.”

You stifled a yawn. “Of course you do. And?”

He knew you were smart. You were a fighter. There was no way you would drink a cup of poison to get away from him. The poison surely had been intended for him. But he had just watched you down the cup without flinching.

“And,” he said, face serious, “Why don’t you get on with it?”

“What exactly do you mean?”

His passive demeanor broke, leaving his face twisted in vulnerability.

“You want to kill me.” You flinched at the word ‘kill’.

“So, go on and kill me, Y/N.”

Your eyes met, and you reached for a cup wordlessly.

“Not a fresh cup. I want to drink from yours.” He pressed his fingertips together, watching you as you poured out milk. He hated coffee. And you knew. He saw you drop one sugar cube in, just like he liked. The warm flutter in his heart died just as quickly when he saw you reach into the spice cupboard, extracting a pill bottle.

You tipped the bottle and liquid fell out of it, rippling and disappearing in the small white whirlpool of milk. Without a word, your fingers reached for a spoon and stirred the cup. His stare was burning into your skin. Your own heart felt like lead, so heavy and drenched with guilt.

His fingers had a subtle tremor when he reached to accept the cup. Placing it on the coffee table, he smiled at you.

“I love you, Y/N.”

It was a lie, you were sure. He only wanted to ruin Yoongi. He never loved you.

There was nothing to say. You didn’t believe him.

He drew a sharp breath, meditating if he wanted to speak his mind.

“If I die in your hands, your baby and you will be left alone, Y/N. Penniless. But you will get your independence, yes.” He paused, a suspicious watery film glinting under his lashes. “You can be happy and raise your child on your own. But you will return to me in the end.”

The arch of your eyebrows creased your forehead, asking the question your lips failed to.

The smile reached his eyes, a manic shadow casting a fearsome look on his face.

“Whenever, wherever you die, you will be interred in the Kim crypt, just next to me. We will be together even in death.”

The entire breathing mechanism of your body stopped working.

“What? But that’s –“

He flowed on, seemingly uninterrupted.

“And Y/N, the place where Min Yoongi is buried, the secret, it will die with me.”

Without hesitating, he grabbed the handle and drew the cup to his lips. The warm milk touched his lips, the fumes from the poison overwhelming his nose.

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siuilaruinofthegale · 3 years

Note

yes hello Sirius for the directors commentary >:DD

from chapter five of melodies of the war-born (always wondered why Shisui of all Uchiha (i was VVVV excited to see him bc i LOVE HIM) and just your overall thoughts while writing these goofs :D)

“Good afternoon, Sakura-san!” Shisui says, his eyes smiling just as much as his mouth. “Isn’t it a lovely day outside? Why, it’s almost as pretty as you are!”

She chokes a little and then laughs, looking away to hide the way her cheeks flush. Over the last few weeks, she’s run into him in the streets more than once, often enough to know he flirts like he breathes: constantly. It reminds her of Genma, but something about Shisui’s flirting feels a little more honest than Genma’s does. “Good afternoon, Shisui-san,” she replies after a minute. “I hope you’re well.”

“Better now that I’m with you,” he says, joining in her aimless wandering down the sidewalk. “I don’t suppose you’d care for some donburi or udon?” She opens her mouth to answer, and her stomach answers for her with a thunderous growl. Shisui laughs, and she flushes with embarrassment. “That sounds like a yes to me!”

Sakura flushes darker. “I… my rent is due tomorrow, Shisui-san, I’m afraid I shouldn’t be going anywhere for lunch.” She swallows, trying to calculate what she can spare, and offers meekly, “If you’d like, I could make —“

“Sakura-san, I’m an idiot, but I’m not a rude idiot,” Shisui chides her, voice surprisingly foreboding for someone so genial. “I asked you. That means it’s my treat.”

“But —“ she starts. Then she spies the bright specks in the corners of her eyes, the ones she knows precede the migraines she gets if she doesn’t eat soon, and she gives in. “…only if I get to treat you to something sometime.”

“It’s a deal!” he says, grinning down at her. “Got any preferences? Given how often you take Naruto-kun into Ichiraku, I didn’t think I should put ramen on the table, but…”

She wrinkles her nose at him. “No. No ramen,” she answers. “Do you like chicken katsudon? Umehara’s stand isn’t far, and her chicken’s the best.”

(this ask is a reference to This Post, and here's a link to chapter five of melodies of the war-born; I'm tagging Shisui/Sakura because it's a tangential ship in melodies that's being discussed here, but the fic itself is Kakashi/Sakura)

Gonna put this behind a cut because it's gonna be long.

Honestly, my initial plans were completely different from how it ended up turning out... which is why I rarely outline things. They never stay the same. Initially, Shisui or Genma was going to play Kenta's role, and Kenta was going to play Shisui's role. The more I read and poked around, though, I became more and more certain that would be a disservice to both Genma and Shisui. Hence Kenta's existence.

I went with Shisui for the romance because I'd already tormented Genma in an earlier chapter, and I also.... well, I liked the path forward that a ShiSaku romance laid out, as well as a lot of the parallels between Shisui and Sakura. They're both emotional, they're talented, they care more than they should, and they (at least to me) have very staunch ideals about What's Right. Shisui's a lot more loyal to Konoha-as-a-concept, and consequently the Hokage, than my melodies!Sakura is, and I thought that'd be some really interesting conflict to explore.

For this scene in particular, it's something that I had planned by the time I finished the last scene in chapter four. It's really important to me that I write main characters (which Sakura definitely is in melodies) being wrong, and mistaken, and having conflicts that aren't just Me Right You Wrong Me Good You Bad. In chapter three and four, Shisui flirts with Sakura, and she gets an impression of him as a womanizing jerk. When Kenta hits on her, and she finds out why, her impression of Shisui changes to a womanizing jerk who doesn't care about anything, because he 'lets' Kenta do this weird rivalry thing and harass women.

Then she confronts the Hokage about Itachi in chapter four, and later, Shisui thanks her for standing up for Itachi and reveals why he's so grateful for it. I'm putting that section here, for reference:

“Believe it or not, they called me a genius once.”

“They still do,” she interjects.

He smiles a little and keeps talking. “As far as those things go, I got pretty lucky. Once I got old enough to figure things out, all I had to do was be an idiot. Then — poof! No more high expectations!” Shisui swallows. She slows her steps as she figures out where he’s going. “Itachi… he doesn’t have that option. He’s from the head family. He’s going to be heir. If he tries to do what I did, they’ll just make Sasuke heir. Itachi cares about his brother too much for that.”

He glances at her, like he’s checking to see if she follows his train of thought, and she nods. “Itachi’s never had the chance to be a kid. I don’t think I ever saw him touch a toy. Fugaku-sama pushes him so hard…” Sakura stops and nods upwards, to her balcony, and he follows her up. He keeps talking, following her into her apartment. “So… that’s why I’m saying thanks. Everyone else just looks at Itachi and sees the Uchiha genius. I don’t even know if Mikoto-sama fought against Itachi being ANBU. They’re just proud.”

That changes her impression of him to 'womanizer, not necessarily a jerk, cares about family'. It puts her perception of him off-center and takes it from "this is the truth" to "this might be true", and primes her for the events of chapter five, which further change that perception.

This scene is an intersection of events and consequences that make Sakura do things she wouldn't normally do. She's short on money because of her demotion, so she's being a lot more frugal than normal. She's shopping alone because she's prideful and doesn't want Kurenai to see her being "poor", which allows Shisui to accost her alone.

She's run into Shisui enough to know he just flirts as a way of life, so she's revised her opinion of him to 'sassy, family-loving idiot'. That being said, she's also noticed he's not much for lying, and he always gives her genuine compliments. When compliments are both genuine and unexpected, it's much harder not to accept them and enjoy them.

She hasn't eaten enough for the day, so she's both hungry and embarrassed enough to accept his invitation for food, which sets her a little farther off balance -- inviting him into her home again would've set her off balance in a different way, because it'd feel more like she had the 'power' there...

Which means it wouldn't have affected her quite the same way if she'd felt like it was her bequeathing knowledge rather than sharing it, once Shisui asks for resources to help Itachi. It makes her feel more like a friend and less like an authority.

Farther on, he accosts her again, and asks questions that are both insightful and challenging -- something most people don't manage. Her perception of him changes again, and again, until she realizes near the end of the chapter that he's just as multi-faceted as her, and he seems to like her, and that they just click in a way she's not used to.

And then THEY HAVE SMOOCHIES.

#siuil stuff #shisaku #ask games #multisaku

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lilyofthesword-writes · 3 years

Text

The Deal (The Mandalorian Oneshot)

Summary: You work as a mechanic and part time mercenary (when required) for Ran and his crew. Ran forces you on one more mission with an old Mandalorian “friend” alongside Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an and Zero.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Reader

Word Count: 3,220

Warnings/Disclaimers: Some violence, mentions of past injury

A/N: Takes place during The Prisoner. There will probably be a follow up piece at some point. I need to decide which direction to go in first.

Masterlist

You had just set down your soldering iron, having almost finished with an incapacitated droid’s wiring, when a pre-Empire ship landed in the the docking bay. Was this the “old friend” Ran had mentioned with a suspiciously sly grin? Part of you hoped so. This guy was supposed to be your ticket out of here. At least... If everything goes according to plan.

Pulling off your gloves, you swiped away the sweaty hairs sticking to your forehead before moving to the nearby lockers for your armor. Now that the esteemed guest was here, you might as well get ready. You didn’t have much armor-wise but it was enough to protect your chest and back. Being the newest member of the crew, they had not afforded you much to work with.

Now suited up, you attached your blaster to your hip and hid a vibroblade in your boot. When you turned back to face the ship, the ramp was down and Ran was walking vaguely in your direction with a Mandalorian at his side. Wait... A Mandalorian?! Ran had failed to mention that part.

They stopped by Mayfeld first for introductions with you being called over shortly after Mayfeld made his typically dumb comments. You offered a handshake to the Mandalorian while giving your name.

He hesitated momentarily before taking your hand in a solid grip. “Call me ‘Mando’.”

You nodded resolutely. Man of few words. You could work with that. It was certainly better than Mayfeld never shutting up.

Then, Burg found his way to your group, making mention of how he expected Mandalorians to be bigger. And finally there was Xi’an. She started in her typical psychotic fashion with one of her knives to Mando’s clothed throat. He didn’t even flinch having obviously already met, something else you had to learn on your own. Apparently, this Mando had run with Ran’s crew years ago. Just from this meeting, you wondered what changed. The current Mando just didn’t seem the type.

During the whole exchange, you kept quiet off to the side, trying not to roll your eyes or shake your head. Your “teammates” were being assholes again, and you wanted no part of it. Though Mando’s helmet faced the others, you could feel his gaze on you. Being a part of all of this... Yeah, he had no reason to trust you.

As the group meandered to the ship you now knew as the Razor Crest, you fell to the back and made yourself as small as possible so as not to attract their attention. Mando was the only one to notice, fading away from the crew to fall in line with you.

“What’s someone like you doing with them, Mesh’la?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Mesh’la? What does that word mean? You just shrugged, keeping your gaze straight ahead. Burg may have said he was small, but to you he was tall and imposing, especially when he was so close to your side. “I don’t have much choice. I owe them.”

His helmet tilted to the side, silently asking you to continue. Why does he care? Shaking your head, you sped up your gait and climbed the ramp.

Once your little rag-tag group plus the droid Zero settled aboard the ship, you took a moment to lean back on the wall and close your eyes. It was one of the ways you calmed your nerves. With Zero plugged into the system, Mando climbed down the cockpit, joining the rest of you in the hull. Then, the “fun” began.

“Let’s see your face, Mandalorian,” Burg started in along with Mayfeld.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing quietly but still with plenty of exasperation. This was Mando’s ship, and they had the nerve to harass him about his helmet. “Are we really doing this right now?” you muttered under your breath.

Xi’an called your name in a poisonously sweet tone, “Dear, keep your mouth shut.”

Guess she managed to hear you over all the noise. Maker, you really did not like her. She was always on your case about something, trying to make your life harder than necessary.

The boys continued egging Mando on, Burg going so far as to get physical to force the helmet off. In the scuffle, they managed to hit a button for a compartment in the far wall, causing it to swish open and reveal both the cutest and strangest little creature you had ever seen.

Mayfeld picked it up and held it out where you were able to get a better look. Its bright brown eyes enraptured you immediately, and stars, you wanted to pet those big ol’ ears. Its oversized robe that it was swaddled in tied together the whole aesthetic. It hadn’t even been five minutes, and you would give your life for this child.

Then, the former Empire lackey had to start screwing around. Mando visibly tensed underneath all that armor like he was ready to rip Mayfeld apart if anything happened to the kid. It was when he pretended he was going to drop the little one that you broke. Pushing yourself off the wall, you gently snatched the kid away into your arms, one hand holding his head protectively.

“Kriff, what is wrong with you?!” You tenderly stroked the child’s head. He happily cooed at you, reaching for your face. “You may be a merc, but there are lines that should not be crossed!”

The entirety of the hull was stunned into silence at your outburst, including yourself. You usually kept to yourself, only speaking when spoken to, but you were fuming now.

As you faced Mando to return the kid, Zero announced an immediate drop from hyperspace. Tousled and sent to the floor, you somehow swiveled yourself just enough to keep from squishing the child, landing hard on your shoulder blade. The Razor Crest violently docked on the prisoner ship, preventing you from sitting up to check on the kid. The instant the vibrations ceased, you found yourself being pulled up to your feet.

“Thanks, Mando.” Cute baby babbling attracted your attention. “You good, Little Green?”

He squeaked, pleased with his new nickname. His clawed fingers clutched your chest armor. Had you not been wearing your armor, he probably would have left little holes in your shirt with how tightly his claws clung to you. You gingerly pried him off, and passed him to Mando, earning you one solid nod. He placed the kid back in the sleeping compartment, safely shutting him inside when he was comfortable.

After making sure the hatch was correctly attached to the prisoner ship, Mando returned to your side. His stance made it clear he was not going first. That was Mayfeld’s job anyways. You usually were somewhere in the middle when it came to scoping out a new environment, so you stood by waiting for your turn. Once Burg was down, you started towards the hatch, but you were harshly shoved to the side and knocked into Mando.

“Oh, sorry, Sweetie. Didn’t see you there.” Xi’an’s lips curled into a predatory grin.

You gave her no reaction, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. You waited for her to disappear down the hatch before shaking your head with a sigh.

“Hasn’t changed a bit,” Mando muttered.

You shrugged with a light laugh. “People like her probably don’t want to.”

With that, you slid down the ladder.

Of course there had to be a shootout. Your group had run into a set of security droids, their fire pinning you down in the hall. Firing a couple of shots, you turned to Mando but only caught a glimpse of his cloak swishing around the corner. Kriff! Where’s he running off to?

It was only when he was completely out of sight that the others noticed, Mayfeld griping about him abandoning them. You continued shooting at the droids, not doing a very good job of aiming from your position. Cautiously poking your head out to get a better idea of where they were, you saw Mando standing proudly behind the droids. As though for dramatic effect, he paused before extending the blade to the knife he was holding. The way he did it with such confidence... Okay, kinda hot.

Stuck in a trance, you could only crouch there and watch as Mando radiated grace and power, slicing through the droids like a whirlwind. And you had to admit the unexpected flamethrower was a nice touch at the end. What other weapons did he have at his disposal?

With the droids out of the picture permanently, you gathered yourselves and made for the control room where a rather sad, unimpressive New Republic officer sat quivering. Mayfeld immediately teased and threatened the poor guy, though you were pretty sure he was more terrified of Mando’s presence than Mayfeld’s word vomiting. The officer held up a remote that could call in the authorities who would destroy the ship. Having had enough, Mando stepped in to calm the situation. However, your soft breath of relief was short lived. Mayfeld brandished his blasters, aiming them at the officer. Mando set his firearm’s sight on the ex-Imp who returned the favor.

“We don’t have time for this,” you scowled and raised your blaster at Mayfeld. “Let’s just get what we need and go!”

“You know, I liked you better when you didn’t speak,” he spat. “And what, you’re on his side now?”

Mando almost imperceptibly inched his way to place himself more in between you and Mayfeld.

“And I liked you since never. So there’s that,” you snarked, keeping your firearm trained on him. “Mando’s right. No one needs to die.”

You caught a glimpse of hope in the officer’s eyes that was immediately snuffed out with one of Xi’an’s throwing knives. No one appreciated that move, especially since it caused the remote had been accidentally activated. Finding the cell number, you all ran from the room and down the alarm-ridden halls, Burg using his raw strength to pummel and throw a couple of large, black droids housing heavy artillery along the way. Reaching the target’s cell was easy after that.

When the cell door opened, you did not expect to see a male Twi’lek. Then again, you didn’t know what you were expecting to begin with. Qin, as you quickly learned, was Xi’an’s brother and Mando’s former ally from when he worked for Ran. Before you had time to comprehend everything, Burg was shoving Mando into the cell. You reached out for his arm to pull him back out before it was too late, but wound up on the floor next to him.

Xi’an’s lips turned upwards into a sneer and peered at you through the opening in the door, making it clear she was the one you threw you in.

“Guess this is goodbye, Sweetie. Just so you know, I always hated you being around,” she hissed with a grin.

“Tch. At least the feeling is mutual,” you growled back and sat up. How did anyone put up with her?

Before running off, they shot a blaster into the cell. Mando pulled you underneath him, wrapping around you so his beskar could shield you both from the laser blast loudly bouncing off the walls. When the sound ceased, Mando lifted his head tentatively just to be sure the blast had dissipated. He lifted his weight off of you, and helped you to your feet.

“You alright, Mesh’la?” There was that word, again.

His hand lingered on your shoulder just a moment longer than it should.

You nodded with a frown. “Other than being pissed at those guys for locking us in here, I’m fine.”

A light squeeze to your shoulder and he released you, checking out the opening at the top of the door. He let out a frustrated sigh. There wasn’t much time to get back to the Razor Crest, and if you did manage to get out, you’d have to make it back before the others did. Things were not looking very good.

You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes to think. “This was supposed to be an unmanned vessel, right?”

Mando rotated on his heel to look at you. “Yes.”

“So then the droids are the ones who can open the doors.”

“Yes...”

His head snapped back to the door, hearing a droid marching down the hall. It was like he read your mind. You were about to ask him if he had anything that could trap a droid when a grappling wire shot out from his vambrace, wrapping around a security droid and dragging it to the door. He proceeded to drop the droid while keeping its dismembered arm which he used to open the door.

“Damn, you’re good.” You had to keep your jaw from dropping.

With a cocky head tilt, he ushered you out of the cell and back to the control room where Mando hit the right switches to close specific doors, splitting up the four mercenaries. Rats in a maze.

Burg was the first combatant. He had gotten to the control room where you and Mando ambushed him. While the win did go to you two, damn it hurt being slammed into the ground like that. After that, Mando had you head straight for the ship to take care of Zero while he focused on the others. Unfortunately for you, you ran into Qin just as you were about to climb the ladder.

“Aww, how cute. You abandoned your little Mandalorian to get out of here alive,” Qin cooed menacingly.

You whipped around with your blaster in hand, clicking the safety off. “If that’s what you want to think, fine.” Your lips pressed together in a fine line.

“Now, now, Sweetheart.” He kept coming towards you slowly as though trying to make himself seem docile. “How about this? You and me leave together. We live and you get whatever reward Ran has for you.”

“If you’re anything like your sister,” you scoffed, “then I’d be better off leaving you for dead here. Now stand down.”

He chuckled, “How can I stand down when I’m unarmed, Sweetheart?”

Hearing that pet name from his mouth made your skin crawl. You wanted to get away from him as fast as possible, but you’d never make it up the ladder in time nor would you be able to run past him. You could just shoot and he would never bother you again, but you really did not want to kill anyone. You had gone the past few years as a temp merc without having to commit such an act. Sure, you hurt people but you could never bring yourself to cross that line. It still made you sick just leaving a bruise on someone.

Qin could feel your reluctance and kept slinking closer. You needed to do something. If he made it within arms reach, he would attack and you could possibly lose your gun, your advantage, in the scuffle. While you were scrappy, your physical strength could be easily overpowered. Thankfully, you didn’t have to worry too much about that.

Mando rounded the corner silently (how in all that armor you will never know) and now had his blaster pressed against the back of Qin’s head.

“Unarmed but still a threat,” Mando snarled through his modulator.

Qin froze on the spot. “Mando... Good to see you, again...” He nervously laughed.

Mando did not say a word. He grabbed Qin by the arm, forcing him to turn around so his back was to you while being cuffed.

“You killed them, didn’t you?” Qin asked quietly.

“They got what they deserved.”

Back on the Razor Crest, you sat in the copilot seat to Mando’s left while Qin, who was not allowed out of anyone’s site, sat to the right. Just before Mando jumped into hyperspace, the child appeared next to you, tugging on your pants. He practically clambered up your leg to settle himself in your lap, much to Mando’s chagrin.

“Hey, Little Green,” you whispered, bouncing the cutie on your leg.

With hyperspace, came a comfortable silence. You were lucky Qin decided to keep his mouth shut. He was technically still a prisoner.

“I used to be a mechanic on Coruscant,” you started.

The pilot seat swiveled just enough for you to know Mando was listening, his helmet titled curiously.

“You wanted to know how I ended up on Ran’s crew, right?”

He nodded for you to continue. In the corner of your eye, you saw Qin pretending not to pay attention.

“Because Ran and his crew started up a shootout with a rival merc group, I was shot and bleeding out. He did help me but apparently saving my life after being the cause in the first place wasn’t a fair trade to him. I wasn’t in my right mind to argue...”

Qin just smirked knowingly. After getting to know Ran, it wasn’t uncommon for him to pull stunts like that. He always got what he wanted.

Mando turned to fully face you as you looked away to rub the little one’s ear who contentedly babbled and played with the fingers of your free hand.

“Is there any way out of the deal?”

You shrugged. “This was it. If I helped retrieve the target,” you paused to glare at Qin, “then Ran would consider the deal fulfilled.”

“Then, you’re done.”

You sighed heavily. “I hope so. Pretty sure he won’t be too happy about losing three members while only gaining one.”

A chuckle snuck through his modulator. “You let me worry about that, Mesh’la.”

Qin sauntered down the ramp first, happily greeting Ran. Mando followed shortly after, placing himself in front of you.

“Where are the others?” Ran frowned.

Mando straightened his stance more, if that were even possible. “No questions, right?”

“Right...” Ran’s gaze focused on you as he said your name. “Got some more droids that need fixing.”

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to not grind your teeth. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Yeah, well you lost crew members.”

Mando shifted to block Ran’s view. “The target has been retrieved and delivered. The deal is complete.”

He definitively turned his back on Ran, his cloak flourishing behind him. It had a very “I have spoken” vibe. Mando nodded for you to return to the ship. You registered Ran folding his arms like he was angrily pouting before walking off with Qin.

Back in the cockpit, the kid crawled his way back into your lap during take off.

Mando tilted his helmet in your direction. “Was there anything of importance to you on the station?”

“No... All I have are the clothes on my back.”

“Good.”

That was when the X-Wings dropped in and fired at the merc station, explosions lighting up the area.

“You brought that remote with you...”

Mando hummed in response.

“Nice.”

The Razor Crest jumped into hyperspace and fell into another contemplative silence. Now you could appreciate the way the blue and white lights whizzing past reflected off Mando’s beskar. It was almost ethereal. As if on queue, he spun the pilot’s seat around.

“So. Need a job?”

You smirked lopsidedly as the child took one of your fingers in his tiny hands. “Why? You got any openings?”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #baby yoda #grogu #xi'an #mayfeld #migs mayfeld #burg #zero #qin

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justonecitizenoftheearth · 3 years

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My issues with Darklina

Spoilers for the TV-show Shadow and Bone!

Also Trigger Warning for abusive behaviour, talk about trauma and cults!

I just finished watching the show “Shadow and Bone” on Netflix and scrolled through the tag on AO3... and I have to say I´m mildly horrified by the fandom´s obsession with Darklina or the ship Alina/Aleksander aka the Darkling.

I agree that they have good chemistry and they are played fantastically in the show. But the Darkling´s actions are just UNFORGIVABLE and here I want to explain why.

Before I start, I´ve got to say that most things I have to say about this are biased. I´ve been in a cult. I´ve been in a position where someone told me “You´re special, you´re one of us, I love you, come and join me” and boy, I payed the price for believing it. It didn´t go well, what a surprise. So I watched Shadow and Bone and I have to say, leaving Aleksander and never believing him again was the smartest thing Alina could do. Sometimes the only way out of such a situation is to turn around and run, no matter if you leave friends or a life behind that you would have wanted to keep.

The first thing that bugged me was that Aleksander manipulates Alina to like him. Yes, she´s calling the shots on their first kiss and he asks for consent in their making out session and he never holds it against her if she withdraws. But he tells her about his feelings of loneliness for a reason. He´s had centuries to figure out how the human brain works and their encounters are mostly calculated by him. So even if some of what he´s telling is true, he tells it to make her fall for him and that´s not right. That´s manipulative.

Secondly, isolating Alina is a huge red flag. Not letting her send letters to Mal, telling her time and time again that he´s the only one who understands her, the only one who is in her position, the only one she can trust. That´s unhealthy and it shows that he doesn´t see her as an equal. Aleksander makes decisions for her and that´s not supposed to happen.

One thing that´s not just about their relationship, but about the little palace in general: I read posts about people saying that Alina was finally accepting herself, that she was in a safe place, that she finally became confident and found her own worth. But the little palace is not a good place to be for Alina. Her closest friend lied to her. She was beaten with a stick during training. She´s bullied and she has a lot of responsibility put on her shoulders while she´s simultaneously being told that she´s not strong enough. When she leaves and meets Mal again, Alina doesn´t lose any of the good things she has learned. She´s still confident in her powers. She doesn´t let the crows take her prisoner. She defeats the man that harasses her with ease. All of that without being held captive in a palace, being shown off and being lied to.

And now the thing that broke the ship for me: Him gaining control over her powers: He´s letting someone plant the antlers of the stag INTO HER BODY. WITHOUT HER COSENT. He´s taking CONTROL OVER HER POWERS! WITHOUT HER CONSENT! That´s just a dealbreaker for me. I don´t care if he developed feelings for her. I don´t care if he turned away because he feels bad about it. If he´s willing to do that to her, to take control over her body and mind, to use her for his goals and to force her to do something she doesn´t want to if she doesn´t obey him ... that´s not love. Even if he genuinely likes her, romantic feelings are NO EXCUSE FOR ABUSE!

That´s my take on that ship. I want to add that I don´t judge anyone for what they´re shipping, that´s up to you, but for me, that ship sank when he literally put a leash on her.

To end this post on a more positive note, I love everything else in that show! The storylines intertwining, the diverse cast, Jesper being bi/pan without it defining his character, the interactions of the crows in general, the goat. Extra kudos for Mal and Alina being ambiguous in their relationship, someone can be the most important person in your life without it being romantic.

#shadow and bone #alina starkov #aleksander kirigan #alina x darkling #anti darklina #tw abuse #tw trauma #tw cult

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narrators-journal · 3 years

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A run-in with a succubus

Here we go, another entry in the dr stone modern Monster AU or whatever. This idea just is so much fun to me, so yeah, expect more ship-focused writing or something lololol. Either way, I hope you enjoy my dumb little ideas~

Succubi and Incubi were arguably the bane of a monster hunter's existence. They were born of already dead souls, so they couldn't be perma-killed like a vampire or werewolf could, they often came with a slew of powers that varied from demon to demon in exact powers and strength, so each one was basically an rng-decided-encounter. Senku, however, didn't really mind dealing with sex demons. So, when he was called to deal with a particularly powerful seeming demon who was harassing an entire neighborhood, he didn't mind and just set to work on sniffing out the sex demon. It didn't hurt that the twenty-year-old hunter had fun drawing out the demon lurking around in the darkness of the night. He enjoyed having the chance to make dry ice bombs, light garbage can fires, or do anything to stir up drama in the quiet neighborhood to cover the fact that he was marking specific spots with symbols that he'd later use to banish the succubus from the area until his ruckus finally drew the attention he wanted and the street's temperature dropped a noticeable and sudden amount, one of the biggest signs that a demon was in the area. The thought of a demon now zeroing in on him in the chilly night honestly sent a thrill down the hunter's spine, or, more-so, Senku was excited to confront a creature he could maybe question and mine for information on his species. However, before he could try to bring back any bit of possibly helpful information about sex demons, he'd have to actually encounter the demon he's supposed to be hunting. So, he just returned to acting like an annoying teen or troublemaker who broke into yards and stole a few things before painting a half finished symbol beside a stranger's trampoline and flopping onto the bouncy piece of equipment to stretch out and wait out the demon. I guess now it's up to waiting. Senku thought with a sigh, hating this period in hunting monsters, having to wait. At least with sex demons, they were pretty easy to lure, despite what his slightly snobby mentor, Xeno Wingfield, always told him. All he had to do was get the demon's attention and then wait for the creature to approach him to attempt to feed. Luckily, maybe, for the apprentice hunter, he ended up dozing off completely on the trampoline, only stirring when he felt himself bounce when the tightly woven surface of the trampoline was jostled. When he woke up with a jump, Senku's crimson eyes were met with a sight that he wasn't exactly used to seeing. In general, the leek-haired man wasn't super experienced with sex, so the sight of someone straddling him with half lidded eyes and a coy smirk was already a surprise, but the added temporary shock of the two tails, one to match each half of his split-colored hair and small, equally mismatched horns sent his brain for a loop in the first few moments of him being awake. "Ah! I see you've woken up!" the succubus cooed, his hands sliding up the hunter's chest until they were chest to chest with the demon's hips wiggling to make his tails sway as rhythmically as a pendulum, "good morning handsome~ I don't think you'd mind if I maybe had a little nibble from you, would you?" The hunter blinked at the demon's words, taking a moment to register the situation before shaking his head, which seemed to shock the demon. Props to the succubus though, because he adjusted very quickly, just cupping Senku's cheek and sending a wave of tingly sensations across his pale skin. However, it was like the warm, euphoric feeling didn't sink in, didn't reach his brain to turn off the common sense as the creature spoke again, "Come on now, if you're awake, might as well have a bit of fun with a succubus, right? I'm told I'm quite the catch.~" he tried, giving the man a quick kiss, and while it wasn't at all bad, it didn't spark a hormonal reaction the sex demon seemed to be seeking. "Why aren't you falling under my spell?" he huffed, his dark blue eyes shining with frustration and confusion, but all Senku could do was stare while the demon pushed himself back into a sitting position with lashing tails. "I’m sorry, was I supposed to do something specific? Was the kiss supposed to do something?" He asked, making the sex demon growl at him, "It's already weird that you woke up when I was trying to feed on you, but you're not supposed to just shrug off my magic. You're supposed to be horny putty in my hands right now, not laying there staring up at me like a kid during his first damned time." he complained, and all the odd-haired man could do again was shrug at him. "I get the sense I've maybe offended you..." "No, I'm not offended." he huffed, "I'm just frustrated. I think I need a moment," with that, he rolled off of the hunter, making him bounce on the lawn toy as the cranky demon sat up, now a distance away, to pout. So, Senku sat up and sat on the edge of the trampoline against the mesh barrier around the circumference of the thing, politely waiting a small stretch of time before trying to question his new companion. "So, uh, why do you have two tails? Is that normal for incubi and succubi?" He asked after a long moment, turning his red eyes back to the succubus to watch the twin tails flick and lash before the sex demon spoke, "Kinda rude to ask about my biology before even asking for my name." "Well, alright, my name's Ishigami Senku, what's yours?" that got the apprentice hunter a dirty look, but he did answer, "Asagiri Gen," he gave a nod, then repeated his question, "So, why do you have two tails? Is that normal for sex demons?" He watched said tails fall and send a ripple across the taut surface as Gen sighed, "I come from a line of strong sex demons, the two tails are a feature I inherited from my family, like how you look like your family has a resemblance to one another, this is my line's shared feature for the most part. No, I do not know the biological reason beyond that, it's just something I have." With that, they returned to a momentary silence, full of Gen throwing inquisitive looks towards the man sent there to banish him, trying to get a read on his intimate details, but the leek wasn't giving him any cues as to any deep dark fetishes or secrets, he was watching him, but with the same curiosity a scientist had towards the lab rat he'd just gotten, not a hint of lust or desire in his body language. "How often do you have to feed?" The monster hunter asked as the sex demon turned to face him, meeting his own question-filled gaze with his own, "Y’know what? I'll answer your questions if you answer mine, how about that?" Gen offered, giving him a sweet smile while his tails returned to their gentle swaying, and he pretty eagerly nodded, "Great! I can go about 3 months without food if I feed for a month or so straight. Are you into men?" The blunt question made the hunter blink a bit, but he shook the small shock off, "Yeah, all of my crushes have been men. Are sex demons all bi? Do you have, like, a 'status quo' sort of sexuality?" As he spoke, the succubus moved closer to him, casually answering as he crawled over as seductively as possible, "Not that I've seen, though I personally am bisexual, but I generally prefer to go for men~" he hummed, putting his hands on the leek-haired man's thighs so that he got another wave of tingly warm sensations as he leaned closer to his face "How many people have you slept with, dear Senku?" The hunter thought a bit, not reacting strongly to the buzzing feeling across his skin nor how close Gen's face was to his when he spoke, "I haven't slept with anyone, I rarely get the urge to have sex at all, dear...Asagiri," he hummed, and the sex demon's face turned to a look of 'aha' for a moment, "Senku, are you asexual at all?" He huffed, narrowing his dark blue eyes at the leek, already knowing the answer, but he answered nonetheless, "I am gray-ace and homoromantic, I think," he gave another infuriating shrug, "haven't put much thought into the labels." At that, Gen pushed himself off of the hunter, flopping back onto the trampoline and making the hunter bounce briefly into the air, "God DAMN IT." He groaned, his tails once again lashing in frustration. So, for a moment or two longer, they sat in silence, until the succubus spoke once again, "I know you're here to banish me from the neighborhood, just go ahead and do it." that honestly surprised the hunter-in-training, making him raise his eyebrows at the demon, "Really? No fight? No argument?" The monster sat up with a long sigh, "Yeah, I can't exactly fight you, I'm as physically strong as you are without my powers of seduction," he pointed out, "it wouldn't be that much of a fight," He had a point with that, Senku wasn't that physically strong, so he didn't bother arguing and just climbed out of the trampoline's little barrier and hopped down to the lawn. While he got his paint out of his equipment bag, Gen laid on his stomach and watched him grumpily. Why is he still so pissy about not feeding off me? Senku thought, finally just asking while he tried to re-activate the paint, "Why are you so grumpy about me not being into you? Haven't you run into an asexual before?" The succubus jumped a bit at the sudden question, but once again covered it pretty quickly, "I have run into asexuals before, but I was wanting to feed on you, you're really cute." he admitted, and the hunter snorted, beginning to finish up the symbol he'd painted beforehand, "Well, if it's any consolation, if we run into each other when you're not being a nuisance, maybe you can try to, y'know, properly seduce me." he suggested, and that made the demon perk up and quickly agree. With that, Senku finished up the symbol and Gen was thrown from the neighborhood. Yeah, sure, he'd likely go somewhere else to feed, but the leek's job was done, so he was satisfied and simply returned home with a smile.

#Sengen #dr stone #drst #dr stone au #monster au #succubus!Gen #Monster hunter!Senku #scenario #au

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unmaskedagain · 5 years

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Truth is Subjective

This post is based off a prompt by #galahadwilder. I give all credit to them for the idea.

This did not turn out the way I wanted it to. AT ALL. I completely missing the mark; or in this case prompt. I couldn’t figure out how to make it work like I had envisioned when I first read the prompt. And now I’m just like ugh. L

When Ladybug saw Alya frantically waving her down from where she was on top of her apartment roof. It was, nearly after midnight. She just finished off an Akuma. However, emotions had been running high among the students in her class so Ladybug didn’t hesitate to see what was wrong. Alya made not have been her best friend, or any type of friend, anymore but Ladybug was still a hero.

A hero who was not happy to see Lila Rossi standing next to her.

The Italian girl looked pleasant at first glance but anger was clear in her eyes. Alya had her phone out. It took all of two seconds for Marinette to figure out what was going on. Alya wanted an interview with Ladybug and her supposed best friend. Lila was sure Ladybug would reveal the truth like she did last time.

Marinette fought to keep the grin off her face. She had idea. A rather wicked idea. She had taken to spending a lot of time with Jagged and Penny and Audrey Bourgeois, watching how they manipulated the news to better suit their individual brands. She now know that even if she told Alya what a liar Lila was, Lila could and would easily spin it to say that “Ladybug said that to protect me”. And Alya would just believe it.

Not this time, Marinette vowed.

“Ladybug!” Alya beamed and immediately jumped into the interview, “I’ve been trying to catch you for months.”

“I know,” Ladybug said coolly.

Marinette had decided that if Alya couldn’t check her facts, then Ladybug couldn’t work with her. She had been reporting too much false information and more or less become a site dedicated to shipping Ladybug with Chat Noir and promoting Lila’s B.S.

Alya didn’t seem to notice the frost in the air. “We’re live streaming for the Ladyblog,” She said. “Ladybug and Lila Rossi; best friends forever.” She said waving her phone between the two. “Ladybug, Lila what’s it look being friends. Lila said she helped you rescue a bunch of people when you still lived in Italy. Before you became Ladybug!”

Lila looked sick, “Now, it was so long ago. She probably doesn’t remember.”

“I’m sorry, Alya, but this interview is over,” Ladybug responded and before reporter could protest, she added. “I refuse to give an interview with my stalker.”

It was like the wind was punched out of Alya, “Sta- Stalker?”

Lila just stared with her mouth opened.

Ladybug nodded gravely, while inwardly Marinette cheered, “Stalker. What else would you call someone who constantly follows you around? Interfere with my rescues. Fantasize scenarios where we’re close personal friends and tells people about it. Try to convince everyone that those tales are real. Maybe it’s a coincidence that she transferred into only class in the entire school, out of all the public schools in France that has had the most akumas thus students I see regularly. Despite her mother being an important diplomat? Who knows?” Ladybug pitched her nose. “For god’s sake, Alya, she even got close to you, the only journalist I deal with on a continuity. You keeping spinning out her stories; feeding her delusions. Why do think I started avoiding you? I saw you were friends with her. I can’t be around her. I won’t.”

It went silent. Alya’s mouth had dropped opened. She looked shocked and slightly ill. Lila looked like she was considering murder. Marinette was five seconds away from doing her happy dance.

“Alya,” Ladybug said seriously. “Be honest, Lila’s said so many stories about so many celebrities but there’s no real evidence backing it up. Her grand adventures with Jagged Stone, Prince Ali, Clara Nightingale; it’s all in her head. At least point, I’m started to think they may have been her past obsessions. She claimed I healed her so many of different diseases, I thought someone was going to try to give me saint hood. Do you really think Jagged Stone would write a song about an underage girl without her parents knowing? Or that Clara Nightingale stole her dance moves. Do you know how bad that looks? Not to mention that model kid Adrien Agreste. From what I heard, what she’s doing to him is borderline sexual harassment. I think they’re victims,” She stressed the word. “Like me. If I wasn’t concerned about my secret identity, I’d have gone to the police by now.”

“Police!” Lila squeaked.

Ladybug shook her head, “I know people. Maybe I can just do a cease and desist order on the Ladyblog. But this has to stop,” She told Alya. “It’s the middle of the night, which is dangerous enough as it is. But there was an akuma as well. You called me, again in the middle of the night, to meet with my stalker. Do you know how scary that is? How that makes me feel?” She asked.

“I’m sorry!” Alya said with tears in hers, her phone still streaming. “I didn’t know.”

Ladybug threw up her hands, “You didn’t even bother to ask! At any time in the last year, you could’ve checked with me that you were reporting the truth.”

Alya sobbed. Lila just glared. She was too busy thinking of ways she could spend this.

Ladybug looked around, with suspicious, “Do your parents even know where you are?”

“Well, I, I mean,” The glasses wearing girl stuttered.

Marinette raised her hands in surrender, “No. I’m done. You’ve gone too far. You put yourself in danger. And you put me in danger. All for an interview. No more. You obviously don’t take this seriously; being a journalist, your blog, your life, anything. I’m done. I won’t work with you again. I can’t risk it.”

And with that Ladybug, yo’yo’d away. When she transformed back to normal and safely got to her house, Marinette fell to the floor laughing. Tikki joined her. Revenge was sweet.

The bluenette plopped down her bed. She couldn’t wait for tomorrow. For months and months she had been accused of bullying Lila, of being jealous, by tomorrow all of France would know what happened on the rooftop.

Lila wasn’t outed as liar like she thought she would be. No, Marinette, Rossi got a much worse fate.

When Marinette woke up the next morning, it was like the world had caught on fire. Nadja was having field day. Celebrities Lila had said she knew vocally denounced every knowing the girl. The world cried, “Poor Ladybug.”

Marinette blinked at the sheer quiet of her class. She had expected chaos. Maybe they didn’t know. Maybe Lila was able to spin it around for the class.

No that wasn’t right. Nino was comforting Alya, who had red eyes and messy hair.

“What’s going on,” She asked Adrien, one of the few people who were still friendly with her in class. She may not have had a crush on him anymore but she still thought he was a decent friend.

“You don’t know?” Alix asked, with shock on her face. “How could you not know? All of Paris is talking about Ladybug’s stalker.”

Marinette scratched the back on her head, a look of faux-confusion on her face, “I got up late again, I didn’t have time to look anything up,” Looks of understanding came from the students. “Wait! Stalker?!” She took a dramatic pause. “…You know?”

Alya stood up angrily, “You knew!”

Marinette took a hasty step back, “Of course I knew. Don’t you remember I got you your first interview with Ladybug? I know her.” Alya looked somewhat placated but still angry. She told me all about it. She was really freaked out. But I promised I wouldn’t say anything,” She defended. “I don’t break my promise. Yet I tried to warn you as best I could. I tried to warn everyone.” Marinette shrugged. “And look what happened. Most of us aren’t even friends anymore.”

Her words were a slap to the face. Most of her former friends had the grace to look ashamed.

Marinette just shrugged again and went her seat.

“I’m ruined,” Alya cried into Nino’s shoulder. “My fans hate me. Half of them think I was lying to them. The other half hate me because I hurt Ladybug. How was I supposed to know Lila was a nutjob?”

“You could’ve fact checked,” Marinette told her. “Listen to me even one of the hundred times I told you she was lying. Asked Ladybug. Asked Chat Noir. Read the twenty percent of the Ladyblog’s comments that she said was lying. You could’ve done a lot to find out the truth.” She stared hard at her former friend. “You chose not to.”

Alya cried harder.

“Harsh, dudette,” Nino glared at her.

Coldness went down Marinette’s back. She stood up, “Harsh!” Marinette yelled, everyone flinched back. “Yeah maybe it’s a bit harsh. But you know what was worse? Losing all my friends. Being called a liar. A jealous psycho. Being bullied by people who I’ve known forever. Getting mean, nasty texts that could have the sender charged with harassment.”

The bluenette glared around the room; at the paling, stunned faces of the other students.

“Harsh,” She hissed at Nino. “Well I’m sorry if the truth is a little harsh. But I think after falling for so many lies, maybe Alya deserves the truth for once. You all do.”

Alya pulled away from Nino, and nodded. “She’s right,” she sniffed. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m so sorry.”

Marinette looked at Alya, her former bestie. Nino the boy she thought always had her back until he stabbed her in it. Kim, her friend since they were in diapers, who had no problem accusing Marinette of awful things. Alix and Mylene, who led the charge against her. Nathanial who had sat and done nothing when they spilled and destroy her designs.

“Sorry’s not always enough,” Marinette admitted, hurt filling her. “There’s another truth for you.”

“My dad’s furious,” Adrien said, gaining everyone attention. “Everyone knows he insisted Lila do the photoshoots with me. An insider even revealed that I made it clear I was bother by Lila. They think he doesn’t take sexual harassment at work seriously. Brand’s taking a hit.”

“Ladybug must be so scared,” Sabrina put in. “My dad told me about some crazy stalker cases he’s seen. They got really obsessive. One guy even kidnapped a kid because he though it looked like his and this woman’s future child. Said the child was theirs. Dad wants me to stay away from Lila. He doesn’t want me getting her attention. Who knows what she’d do?”

Sabrina words sent shivers through the students. A few who watched true crime stories looked particularly green.

“We should’ve caught on,” Alix frowned. “None of her stories even made sense. Saved a cat from being hit by a plane? Really? Are we morons?”

“Something must be seriously wrong with her,” Rose offered. “Maybe she just needs help.”

“She needs a nice white jacket,” Kim growled. “And a padded cell.”

“Where is Lila?” Marinette asked.

Surprising it was Juleka who answered, “Hiding in her house. Reporters everywhere want a one on one with Ladybug’s Stalker. Her face is all over the news. She’s trending on Twitter. So’s the Ladyblog.”

Alya groaned. Her blog, her life’s work was finally getting the attention she always wanted but in the worst possible way.

Nino hugged his girlfriend, “At least no one will ever be fool again,” He offered.

“Undoubtable,” Max agreed. “I foresee that Lila is well on way to be the most famous stalker in recent history. They’ll use her as a textbook example one day, if this carries on. People will base their doctorates on her mental health.”

Marinette smirked.

Lila was going to get the all attention she’d ever want.

#ml salt #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #class salt #lila salt #galahadwilder

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rachelbethhines · 4 years

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - Happiness Is

This is possibly my favorite episode of season two. Yet, it is also the point the where the series starts to fall off a cliff. Only that’s not something that you would realize upon a first watch; just in hindsight and only with some basic knowledge of the behind the scenes drama that led to this and the fall out with the fandom that followed afterwards.

Summary: Rapunzel begins to feel homesick for Corona when she finds an old letter written by her father in one of the many lanterns sent from her previous birthdays. In attempts to uplift her spirits, Rapunzel explores the island and comes across a magical idol that brings instant happiness to whomever possesses it. Rapunzel begins to hallucinate her family and friends back in Corona and soon shares the idol with the rest of the group. However, everyone starts to become obsessive over the idol, desperately wanting it for themselves. Rapunzel tricks everyone into giving her the idol, but when the Lorbs try to help Rapunzel, they fall under the idol's control and soon begin to terrorize the village.

Let’s Start with the First Elephant in the Room; Frederic

So throughout the episode Rapunzel is struggling with being homesick. Which is fair enough, that’s an understable reaction to being on the road for months by now. However, to showcase this Rapunzel keeps seeing hallucinations of her father. There are some other characters too, but her dad is the first person she sees and the only one in Corona with speaking lines. He’s the one to tempt her with the idol.

Did we just forget that Frederic is her abuser?

Look, even if you accept his apology in Secret of the Sundrop and believe he has learned his lesson, that doesn’t just erase the pain he caused her. Her thoughts about her father should be more realistically complex then this. Now add in how she makes a such a clean break from her other abuser, Gothel, but still holds him on a pedestal shows a disturbing bias on the part of the writers.

Also where’s this love for Arianna? You know the only real mother on the show? The show that’s aimed at little girls? The one parent who hasn’t flat out abused the main character yet?

Seriously, Chris, what the fuck?

This is a Missed Opportunity

So part of the reason why I like this episode is that we get insights into each of the characters and their desires. As such this is one of the few episodes where the group actual feels like a group friends. However, Cass’s vision is wasted here.

So at first glance this seems to aline with what we know of the character thus far. She loves her dad and wishes to impress him. That’s only if you take season one into account, though. Later episodes will contradict this goal. If you wanted to set up praise and validation in general as Cassandra’s motives, then here is where that should have happened.

Show her getting a medal, have cheering crowds surround her, have her be a hero, or something. You can’t claim her relationship with her parents as the driving force of behind her later actions if you don’t actually involve one of those parents as part of the resolution to her arc.

Either she lacking attention from her dad or she’s jealous of Rapunzel. You can’t have it be both because those two things don’t intersect. Rapunzel is not and never was a threat to her relationship with her father.

So Umm...I Don’t Think This Plot Point Has the Impact That the Writers Think It Does

So this hilarious, and it is intended to be funny, but it’s not for the reasons that the show gives.

The idea is that this is some shocking revelation. That Rapunzel would never do this under normal circumstances and it’s a hint that the idol is corrupting her.

Only the rest of the series doesn’t aline with that at all. This is just the real Rapunzel behaving as the she normally would but without the usual veneer of excuses.

It’s funny because it’s the show calling out Rapunzel hypocrisy for what it is plainly, not because it’s out of character.

But funny only gets you so far. The show is perfectly happy to play up Rapunzel’s awfulness for laughs, but then conventily ignore it when it comes time for the characters themselves to call her out on it so that she can grow and learn.

The show runs under the sitcom idea that comedy excuses all sins; which then backfires horribly when it tries to be serious and mature.

You can’t joke that the king threw a random person in a stockade for little reason and then expect us to still like him when he persecutes a child. Same applies here.

The sitcom set up only works when there is minimal at stake and all parties involved are equally awful in their own ways.

Then Why Not Just Go Home?

Once again, there’s nothing at stake in season two. Rapunzel has no real reason to be on this trip. Nothing is stopping her from just going home if that’s what she wants. The idol only makes her happy because it shows her want she wants, but she could actually have what she wants as soon as the next ship arrives. So what’s the issue here?

This is why you need external conflict in order to make internal conflicts work. There’s has to be something preventing the main character from achieving her goal or otherwise she just comes across as a dumbass.

And Now Here Comes the Second Elephant; Varian

I have several things to talk about here, and none of them actually concern the scene itself but the creator’s treatment of the character and the show’s fan base.

For you see, Chris did a very, very stupid thing.

He wrote the character driving the plot out of the show. The character who also happens to be the most popular person in the series. Only to then use said character’s VA and this one cameo as promotion for this whole season.

Needless to say, fans were disappointed.

However, the Tangled fandom is exceedingly polite; more so than most. The lack of Varian was met mostly with confusion, and maybe a few off handed jokes, rather than anger. When opportunity arose people naturally had questions concerning the character.

And that’s when Chris put his foot in mouth.

This Tumblr post details how Chris got kicked off the Tangled The Series Discord by bullying a bunch of Varian fans while on there.

https://starxapple.tumblr.com/post/617852117763391488/zhantiri-uuugh-fine-since-people-are-getting

I shan’t get into it fully, but for those who discovered the show after season two had aired, this caused a massive backlash from the fandom.

A good chunk of the fandom just walked away, and rightly so. The few that stuck around despite these remarks found themselves harassed by certain sections of the fandom who saw Chris’s bullying as permission to pursue the same behavior. However, most importantly, the ratings plummeted.

Season one hovered around the the 1 million mark, give or take a five point difference. The first part of season two dropped to half of that, and after this episode and the hiatus it sunk even lower, down to the mid-thirties. That’s over 20,000 people who just jumped ship over this. That’s not a normal decline.

No matter what your personal feelings are of the character of Varian or how he was handled in the show, that’s still a massive PR fassico that cost the series big time.

To add to this mountain of bullshit, there was also a massive walk out of crew members after season one had finished production. Most of them women. They even desperately threw out ‘we’re hiring’ calls to cover this. Which given that’s it’s Disney and that nepotism is usually how one gains employment in the entertainment industry, something unusual must have happened behind the scenes. Especially if most of the people who left were women.

We’ll probably never know what really happened. People don't usually talk about behind the scenes stuff like that due to contracts and the aforementioned nepotism. However, all clues point to Varian.

Something changed at the last minute concerning his story. Chris himself had confirmed as much when discussing the note and the Brotherhood. We also gotten other hints that content was edited out at the last minute. Plus the writing becomes more shoddy as the series goes along, showing how slapped dashed everything is together.

Then there’s the rumors.

I must stress to you that this is only a rumor. As pointed out earlier, most animators aren’t in a position to talk freely about what goes on behind the scenes. Do NOT harass them over it or make things awkward by asking them to clarify this. However it’s been suggested that the female crew warned Chris that removing Varian from season two and re-writing his story, along with making Cass the villain, would be a bad idea before they left and Chris didn’t listen. Much to his folly.

Chris is no longer a Disney employee and has yet to move on to any other projects. He says he left, but I more suspect that Disney just didn't renew his contract and no one has picked him up since. I take no joy in the idea that someone may have lost their job, but if true, then Chris has little to blame but himself.

So What Did Change?

We don't know anything for sure. We know from discussions about the note that there was a proposed Brotherhood plot that involved Varian that was then cut. There was also talks about a Cass and Varian team up in season three.

This was then changed to the Saporian take over, which is foreshadowed in this scene. However even that got edited down and under the flimsiest of excuses.

One of the writers, Ricky, suggested that they thought cutting back to Corona would be too confusing for the audience; which is a load of bull. I mean how poorly do you think of your audience’s comprehension skills that they wouldn’t understand a change of scene or a flashback? Yet you fully expect them to pick up on your lazy foreshadowing involving the mirror? So much so that you sent them on a quest to find it between seasons two and three.

Then there’s this gem from Chris.

Ok ignoring the fact that you so totally could have featured both Gothel and Varian, seeing as they serve two different functions in the story and mean different things to Rapunzel.... What guilt?!!!

Rapunzel doesn’t ever act guilty over anything involving her treatment of Varian.

That’s when you realize Chris isn’t talking about her feeling guilty about Varian’s predicament. He’s saying that Rapunzel feels guilty of leaving her father behind with this ‘dangerous’ criminal. Which is a big fuck you to everyone.

That’s why Frederic is the center focus of Rapunzel’s hallucinations. Why she’s more concerned for his safety over Varian’s trauma. Chris really be out here trying to use the abused 14/15 year old orphan as a scapegoat for the grown ass dictator who ruined countless lives. Because he thinks a grown woman should feel guilty for leaving her abusive father behind and pursuing her life’s dream.

Dude, I try not to assume the worst of people just cause they write fictional characters that I dislike, but Chris really makes things hard not to when he treats his self insert this way.

Oh but we’re not done yet.

When Varian Fans Complain About the Lack of Varian; We’re Complaining About the Lack of a Coherent Plot.

Certain sections of the fandom, bolstered by Chris’s BS, try to act like simply being a Varian fan is grounds for dismissal of any criticism of the show and it’s writing. As if having personal preference for something makes you automatically ‘entitled’ or some such bull. Yet doing so ignores the fundamental complaint that they are making.

We’re not whining about our favorite character not getting enough screen time. No one would have complained about his lack of presence in season two if they had properly resolved his story in season three and had Chris not been a dick to the fans. But it becomes evidently clear as the series goes along that removing Varian left a major hole in the plot. One that makes the entire story and the rest of characters suffer as well.

Think season two is boring? That’s cause they cut out their main villain at the last minute and failed to replace him with anything.

Upset that Hookfoot was brought along for zero reason? He’s the replacement character for Varian who no doubt was going to appear in season two originally.

Wish there was more on the Brotherhood and the Dark Kingdom? Their story impact was greatly reduced when Varian was written out.

Are you a Eugene fan and mad about how the Dark Prince plot went nowhere? That’s cause the original Brotherhood/Dark Kingdom plot was dropped when Varian was.

Dislike how Cassandra’s character was ruined with her villain arc? She was originally meant to be possessed but was changed last minute to be a Varian rip-off in the hopes that she would gain some of his popularity.

Wish Zhan Tiri, Demantius, and the Disciples actually went somewhere and that ZT had coherent plan? That plot were changed last minute to make Zhan Tiri a scapegoat for Cassandra now that her story was changed to replace Varian.

And of course let’s not ignore the character who suffers the most from lack of Varian.... Rapunzel.

Chris’s defense for leaving Varian out of S2 is that it’s “Rapunzel’s Story” and that Varian was only ever a plot device meant to push her along on her quest. Which means that Rapunzel no longer has anyone pushing her along on her quest!!!

All characters are plot devices. If they aren’t there to serve a story function then they need to be cut. Even Rapunzel herself serves a plot function. She’s meant to be the protagonist of a coming of age story. Which means she needs both an external conflict to face and an emotional arc where she grows as a person. Varian is the plot device that serves both of those functions but he’s now been removed and is no longer allowed to serve his original purpose.

Chris reached into the machine while it was running and pulled out one of the main gears and acted like he always meant to do that. He legit sat there and pretended that everything was running smoothly even as smoke poured out and warring alarms blared. He then tried to shove bubble gum in its place hoping no one would notice as everything fell apart around him.

Cause he’s the thing; no idea is without merit. It’s all about presentation. Removing Varian from season three still could have worked, but it required A.) replacing him with another foe and B.) making sure his arc still got a proper conclusion.

I’ll talk more about Varian’s half-arsed redemption when we get to it; but for now let's focus on the more immediate problem. No one thought to give season two an actual overarching conflict in light of Varian’s absence.

That’s a fundamental oversight that pretty much signals that season two was re-written at the last minute. You have an overarching plot in an action adventure show but no main adversary? I refuse to believe that everyone involved was too stupid to do that on purpose; but if they were rushed and lacked a crew because they walked out due to last minute story changes....yeah that’d I buy.

Because there’s more than enough options to go around; Lady Caine, The Baron and Styalan, Hector and/or Adria, Zhan Tiri’s Disciples ect. were all options. So was keeping the rocks a threat, or have Cass start her villian arc earlier; with proper motivation this time. They could have even come up with someone entirely new.

You had over four years to plan this shit out; why is it not more well put together?!

How Come Rapunzel Can Easily Admit Fault to Pascal But Not Anyone Else?

Pascal should have sat perched on Varian’s and Eugene’s shoulders giving Rapunzel ‘I’m done with this’ looks all throughout season three. It’s apparently the only thing that she responds to.

Why is the untalkative camelanion the only one allowed to call out the main character’s BS without going villain?

Conclusion

That’s all there really is to talk about in this story. The actual episode itself is good. It’s the behind the scenes crap that bubbles underneath its surface that needed to be discussed. That way when going forward with the marathon you’ll better see what I’m talking about when I explain how future episode suffered from the lack of planning and foresight.

#Varian #tangled #anti-tangled #anti-rapunzel #cassandra #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tts #rta #king frederic

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two-tied-hearts · 3 years

Note

I wasn't going to reply, because what I have to say is a bit charged, and the least thing I want is to make you uncomfortable in your space, but your tags indicated you wanted us to interact so I thought I might as well. I do have to apologise in advance in case of anything, it is really not my intention to upset, but I also feel this needs a reply. I think in retrospect, having read what I wrote back, this might not have even been about reluctance as much as I'm starting to think that post triggered my fight or flight response.

That anon that complained about Yashahime, I can understand the gripe to some extent, and no one ever really said the season is perfect, there were moments in the season that could have been done better, especially partaining to pacing, but especially now when we know there will be more coming, and that what we got is hardly the whole deal, to act like sessrin is reduced to just that first season is ridiculous. Quite frankly even so, their dynamic wasn't impacted at all, they're the same dynamic we all fell in love with, but they're put in a difficult situation... which, sure, ok... but... that's just... storytelling? There needs to be a story... to tell? I'm not sure what exactly people expected honestly.

Maybe not necessarily this case, but most times when I've seen people say that, what they mean is they see Sunrise's portrayal of Rin as a "complacent breeder", which honestly is offensive, false, and also just weird in the context of both the plot and the dynamic, especially if and when you understand it. Or they call Rin useless, apparently that's a thing too now... in any case, it sets some of my alarms off, I think valid critique is most welcome, but the things thay I've seen spewed around here under the guise of "criticism", hardly really qualify as that at all and are said in bad faith.

On a personal note, and this is more why I was reluctant to reply, people who are overly obsessed with fictive characters' ages make me uncomfortable, and dare I say, outright give me the creeps. If you have that much trouble distancing yourself from fiction to the point where you need to know pixel ages down to the last second since their "birth", that you can't even enjoy a character dynamic lest it abides by the bible, that to me is a big red flag, and more often than not people who are so concerned with them are antis/fancops, in other words, abusers. If the person who sent that is who I think they are, then for sure it's a fancop, and when they say "bully", they mean they were called out for harassing artists and spewing terfery, and despite them outright hurting people, and overall being harmful, when that was called into question, rather than hold themselves accountable, they took to fleeing and painting a narrative.

Returning to topic and to the characters' ages business, I'm also suspicious of anyone at all who allocates time to argue about Rin's age any one way or another, because Rin has never even had a canon age as per the original material, and quite frankly it's irrelevant. But I guess that's a hot take, to say that the fake numbers slapped on a fake, nonexistent character, are fake and have no real importance. It just makes me very curious how some are so certain Rin is 16 or younger when there are no sources to be cited either pro or against. Even with assumptions of her age in Inuyasha, which are for the most part a consensus across the whole Inufandom, and subsequent calculations based on Kagome's age and the timeline, most of the time Rin's age results around 17 if you read an analysis done in good faith. The only ones who age her down, and can't even settle on 1 single age for her, since depending on which of them you ask they'll say anything between 12-16... are yet again the fancops. Most people ship things because they enjoy a dynamic, characters' personalities that compliment each other and so forth, it's never about character ages™ or shipping the right™, most realistic™, most morally coherent with our real life views™ thing, and being perfomative and trying to turn it into that has singlehandedly hurt more people, and been the most dangerous turn fandom could have ever taken.

Okay! Let's dive in!

I agree with you. The first season wasn't perfect. it did have it's flaws, but that's what a first season is. It's to set up the characters and the world they live in. I'm not saying next season will be better, but it has room to grow. There is still story left, it's not finished yet.

You are definitely right about this! Rin is in no way a "breeder" or "useless". It's extremely rude to call someone a breeder just because they want/have children. That is very misogynist and reduces women to basically nothing. What's worse is that some of the people who say that are also women so they are saying that themselves and all women are worthless and that is not the case.

Yes, Rin's age was never specified. At the end of the day her age is basically a headcanon. We don't know how old she was when she married Sesshomaru or gave birth to the twins. She could have been 14 or 16 or 17. It was super common back then for people to marry and have kids at a young age. Even today people are having children at that age. But again we don't know how old she was! It shouldn't be a problem and it shouldn't be obsessed over. Just say what you think her age is and go.

Obsessing over a fictional ship/characters isn't healthy. Other than liking sessrin I have responsibilities in the real world. I have a life outside of fandoms that I'm in. I also agree with you, people who obsess over her age or actively showing their hate for a ship makes me super uncomfortable. It's like "okay we get it you don't like sessrin. We don't care as long as you don't harass us just because of lines on a screen." It's nice to like shows and ships but people shouldn't only be contributing to hate. It's unnecessary and a waste of time.

To sum up everything, and to the people who keep spreading hate, here is a quote of my favourite meme: "Calm down son, it's just a drawing."

#Thanks for the ask #anonymous #sessrin discourse

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