#death stranding furry au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

dire, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: One fateful night. That was all it took for Jeon Jungkook’s world to turn upside down. One mistake, one lick to the face, and something between biology? a spell? and now he’s horny as fuck for a Dire Wolf. Who needs catgirls when you have doggirls, right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, world building, mentions of death, blood; eating raw meat; mentions of (species) discrimination and prejudice; violence; smut (fem reader, too much m-masturbation, m-receiving oral (ish?); saliva everywhere lol); non-idol!AU - werewolfAU; werewolf!reader x blond, human!Jungkook; switches between Jungkook’s POV and your POV; is JK a furry? you decide

tried to keep it fast paced during the world building, hopefully it doesn’t feel as long as it is haha and yes there’s a rap line cameo slipped in there hehe inspired by YOASOBI - 怪物 (Kaibutsu)

He shouldn't be out so late at night. He had lost track of time, stayed out too late, and now he was paying for it, running, trying to stay swift and quiet, keeping out of the streetlights. The sky was pitch black, oppressively towering over the city. The moon was high above him, thick and full.

A howl tore through the darkness.

The hair on the back of his neck raised. His breathing shallowed and he tried to move quicker, hiking to the tips of his sneakers, trying to avoid the fallen leaves. There was no one walking around. No one else would be crazy enough to be out this night. The wind swirled around him, as if it too was afraid, hurrying him along. Another howl followed.

And then another.

And another.

Panic rose within him, breaking out into a full out run, not caring anymore about being silent because there was scraping now, claws on asphalt, insatiable huffs mixing with growls.

This was why they had curfew on the nights of the full moon.

He was going to die.

Anyone in their homes was off limits. But he wasn't in his apartment, he wasn't home, and he was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to–

Strong arms grabbed his body from the air, dragging him into an alleyway. He almost screamed, but a hand clamped over his mouth, grip like iron.

A human hand.

He was slammed against the alley wall, brick cutting into his thick hoodie, pain shooting up his back, tearing it up as he was thrown down onto the dirty sidewalk. The body followed, flattening over his. For such a strong grip, the weight was not as heavy as he expected. The stranger was wearing a dark hoodie as well, incredibly oversized, similar black jeans to his, but it was obvious they were several sizes too big, swamping the legs inside.

He whimpered as his head was pushed into the brick.

"Silence, human."

The hand was still over his mouth but his eyes widened. The voice was low, grating, yet distinctly female. The other hand, her left, popped up and he saw the tattoo on the back of her hand, a number below a wolf symbol.

Stay away from the Dire.

The Dire were the reason he was running. The Dire were the reason he was going to die. The Dire were the wolf people that lived among them, too many to not be members of society, but hated for what they were. Essentially werewolves, but not as romantic as the folktales like to make them.

She reached up and lowered the face mask.

He could smell it on her breath.

Blood.

He was going to die.

He started at her teeth, sharp, pointed, a true carnivore, almost too big for her mouth. Still, he was surprised to see her mouth was mostly human, full lips, smooth skin. He thought all the Dire were forced into wolf form during the full moon.

"Stay still."

She licked him.

His eyes went wide, unexpectedly seeing her lean over, long tongue extended, slobbering on his cheek, all the way to his temple. It coated his face, the scent of blood and something else – thick, intense, and heady, unlike anything else he had ever felt in his life. His eyes rolled back in his head, entire body shuddering at the touch, thighs quivering. Her hand pressed harder against his mouth and she drew back, turning her head, waiting.

The snarls neared, then stopped.

"I swore I smelled human here."

Heavy, thudding steps. His eyes snapped back to see the shadows dancing on the wall. Huge, misshapen shadows. Multiple ones. The fear rose within him, but she pressed her hand down on his lips, shaking her head just barely. Her body was still on top of his, covering it. He was very aware of her weight now, firm, solid. He heard more noises. Rustling. Harsh sniffing.

"Ugh, let's get out of here. I smell a claim," came a deep, disgruntled grumble.

"We can take them." Higher pitched, a little annoying.

"Smell it, you fool."

A snorting whiff.

"Fuck, you're right. Let's get out."

Then the heavy steps bounded away, claws clacking on the concrete.

She waited until the night was silent for a full minute before removing her hand from his mouth. His face was still covered in her saliva. He raised his hand to wipe it off, but she growled deep in her chest. The sound tingled throughout his nerves, igniting them.

"Do you want to die, human?"

He froze at her cold tone. She backed up, hood falling.

Suddenly, he forgot how to breathe.

She had tall, pointed ears, fur silvery in the moonlight, with black tips. Her hair was wild, the strands probably thickened from the full moon. Whatever her usual eye color was replaced with bright yellow, flashing as she scanned the area outside the alleyway. She had a mole underneath her right eye, near the inner corner.

She sighed, standing up. A bushy silver and black tail poked out from under the hoodie. Despite her smaller frame, there was sheer power in her stance, an unmistakable predator.

"W-Why aren't you in wolf form?" he wondered out loud, breathless in awe.

She turned her head to look down at him. Something flitted in her eyes. Then her gaze hardened.

"How close is your home?"

He swallowed, shakily standing up, aching all over. He pointed. "A block from here."

She stepped back, ticking her head. Her silvery ears were straight up, tufts of white hair sticking out of them. They looked soft, pretty.

"Go home, human. The world will be yours when the sun rises."

She left quickly, light steps in her wake.

You shadowed him until he entered his home.

He didn't notice.

Dumb human, almost getting himself killed.

The Dire wolf people lived among them. Some had good jobs, worked hard, and even had respect from human society. But most had low-paying jobs, poor reputations, and were behind bars. Because at the end of the day, they were carnivores. They hunted. They ate meat. Most of the time they hunted animals in the forest, with one exception. Any human out during the full moon was free game, no reprimand. Any other time was considered murder, but the full moon was theirs. That was the deal between the Dire Alpha and the nation.

It was not a great deal, but that was the deal.

Even though the Dire looked human most days, a few things gave them away. The ears, the fluffy tail, the teeth. Some Dire had them removed, clipped, or filed, for style, in shame, whichever. But every Dire had the tattoo on their left hand, complete with the identification number. If you didn't have a left hand, the national government put it wherever it could be visibly seen.

That was also part of the deal between the Dire Alpha and the nation.

If you asked Jeon Jungkook, he tell you this deal was absolute shit, but there really wasn't anything anyone could do about it.

No one except the Dire Alpha and the government.

We all know the old ones are set in their ways.

"How much?"

Jeon Jungkook raised his head at the familiar voice. It wasn't as grating or rough as before, but it had a distinctive raspy huskiness to it that he recognized instantly.

It was the middle of the day, at the local butcher's shop. The air was frigid, mostly to help keep the meat fresh. The prices were cheap here, definitely cheaper than the supermarket chain.

He looked up to the counter to see a huge bag of meat sitting on the scale. Raw, red, bloody. The figure was wearing a dirty oversized black hoodie and jeans that were about four sizes too big, swamping the legs. Not that imposing, but there was something about that voice that made it imposing.

The left hand slid out of the hoodie and sat on the counter. Wolf tattoo, numbers. Nails painted black, a wolf ring on her middle finger with glittering, opalescent stones for eyes. Her pinky had a simple silver band. She hasn't been wearing those rings on that night.

The butcher curled his lip and stated the price.

Jungkook could see the weight from here. He did a quick calculation and furrowed his brows, marching up to the counter.

"That's twice as much as you charge me."

The butcher looked startled that Jungkook had cut in. The hooded figure was wearing a face mask but there was no mistaking the mole under the inner corner of the right eye, even if she had her normal eye color now.

"It's... it's higher quality meat!" the butcher sputtered, alarm rising in his throat.

"Oh, shut up," the woman spat, reaching into her hoodie and dumping bills onto the counter. "There's no need to lie. Dires can do math as well as you, human." She grabbed the bag from the counter, growling. The butcher crawled back in fear, hand fumbling for the knife behind him.

"Keep the change."

She yanked the bag off the counter and stalked away. Jungkook stared at the bills and shot the terrified butcher one last glare before he rushed out to follow. She wasn't that hard to find. The bag of meat was huge. It bulged against the thin plastic, almost breaking. Jungkook ran up to her, skidding on his sneakers and grabbed the bag from below, hoisting it up.

The Dire turned her head, raising an eyebrow.

"It'll fall," he explained, swallowing. She released her hand from the bag. The black face mask covered her expression but her eyes were visible. Careful, intense, not to be messed with.

"Do you want it, human? Is that why you're bothering me?" she asked. Her tone wasn't condescending or rude, mostly impartial.

"Uh, what? No, no, I was worried that the bag would break and the meat would fall to the ground and then you wouldn't be able to eat it..." Jungkook trailed off in his explanation. His nerves felt like they were on fire when she looked at him, even if they weren’t the same yellow color as that night.

Those eyes sparked with something unknown, squinting in amusement. There was a single bark of laughter, her chin lifting and hood sliding back a little, revealing some of her hair.

"Silly human, everyone knows dogs can eat off the floor."

She said it lightheartedly, but there was bitterness, piercing like venom.

Jungkook frowned.

"You're not a dog."

She raised an eyebrow. Reached up with her left hand, lowering the face mask. The wolf hand tattoo gleamed, dark despite probably having it for most of her life. The government probably forced her to touch it up every so often. His eyes widened as her face was revealed, nose, lips, chin. He remembered the intoxicating feeling of her tongue on his face. The way his whole body reacted, falling into it. Her mouth opened, white teeth sharp and pointed, but not as large as they were during the full moon.

"Are you sure?" she growled.

It was the middle of the day. Lunchtime. Her right hand lifted, reaching into to the bag. Jungkook's eyes grew wider as her fingers closed around a hunk of meat, blood seeping onto the silver rings she wore on this hand, an intricate skull with a snake coming out of its mouth on her index and a silver band with script on it on her ring finger.

It read...

FEED.

She gripped the slippery meat and pulled it out of the bag. Brought it to her lips and sank her teeth in, tearing at it. She even turned her head sharply to the side, ripping the uncooked muscle to shreds.

Chewed.

FEED.

Chewed slowly, staring.

"Best stay away from the Dire, human. They are not nice like me."

"Thank you," Jungkook blurted.

He did not know why he said it now. Now, as she was literally eating a chunk of raw meat in the middle of the fucking street, blood dropping down and seeping into the face mask on her chin. She was eating like an animal, probably on purpose to scare him, but all he could remember was arriving home and looking at himself in the mirror, her saliva stuck to his cheek and temple.

She blinked, slowly.

"Thank you for saving me."

She shoved the last bit of meat in between her lips. She looked thoughtful as she swallowed. Something seemed to be different now.

"You're welcome, human. I'm glad you're safe."

She held her bloody hand out.

"I need to feed. I would like to do so in peace, if you don't mind."

He jumped, holding out the bag of meat. She gripped it from the top and placed her left hand under it, supporting it as she took it from him.

"Um."

He lowered his hands. She looked at him with impassioned eyes.

"My name is Jeon Jungkook."

She tilted her head, a curious puppy gaze.

"What... what's yours?"

You told the human your name.

Not your full name. Just your given name.

Part of you still wanted to refer to him as the dumb human.

But he did say you weren’t a dog.

That was nice of him to say.

Maybe he should have been disgusted, watching her eat raw meat like that.

Then again, maybe he was desensitized, because many Dire ate raw meat out in public. At restaurants and such. Usually with some sort of utensil though, and not with their hands.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what came over him to be honest. He just kept thinking about her tongue. The smell. The saliva. The two Dires hunting him had called it a claim. He wondered what that meant. He took to the internet.

The internet scared him.

He put down the internet.

He stared at his phone, reading the words that he had looked up in the web browser. What is a claim? That didn’t work. What is a Dire claim? Jungkook found the answer on a communal website that defined slang words.

A claim is when a Dire wolf claims a piece of property as theirs via marking them with their scent. Usually, that property is a mate or a human used as a sex slave.

The internet was scaring him. That can’t be right. She didn’t have sex with him. She didn’t even attempt to or try when they met again afterward. She had spent the time eating raw meat in front of his face. She didn’t even give him a phone number.

“I don’t have a phone,” she said. “Such things are of no use to me.”

Who didn’t have a phone these days? He thought that was weird.

“If you want to find me, I can smell it off you. I will come. Or I will not.”

That was also weird.

But she was a wolf. So. Maybe not?

Jungkook did not have many interactions with the Dire. He met a banker once when he was withdrawing some money. Saw them went he bought groceries or went to amusement parks. The Dire didn’t really interact with humans. The Dire even went to different schools than the humans, so he wasn’t exposed to their customs. The education system didn’t focus much on Dre history or culture.

Also.

Sex slave???

Jungkook couldn’t stop thinking about it.

They must have been mistaken.

You could smell the human. He was thinking about you.

What was his name again?

Jungkook.

He was horny.

You snorted and went back to your shower.

Jungkook was in the middle of gripping his dick when he realized.

If you want to find me, I can smell it off you.

Was there a radius? A limit?

The words sex slave kept flashing in his head.

Could she smell him now?

He stroked his cock, slowly.

Maybe?

He kept going.

You were in the middle of drying off when you smelled it.

You raised your eyebrows.

You went back to drying yourself off.

Your tail was drenched with water. Sigh. Perhaps you would have to blow dry it before sleeping.

Oh dear.

He made a mess.

Could she... smell it?

No way, right?

“I can smell it, you know.”

Jungkook shot up out of his bed. He was shirtless. Fuck that, he was pants less too. He only had his underwear on, and the female Dire was standing in his bedroom, hood down, head cocked. His window was wide open, curtains flapping in the wind. Her fluffy silver ears were ruffling in the breeze.

It was nearly noon.

The next day.

After, well, the night he jacked off to thinking about her tongue.

She was fully clothed, in a giant gray hoodie and loose black pants, far too big for her. They looked clean, compared to last time they met. There was a black face mask under her chin, squishing her cheeks a little. As usual, her voice was a little raspy and husky, if not monotone.

“H-How did you… g-get in?” he sputtered, grabbing his covers and yanking them over him.

She raised an eyebrow. “This window, obviously.”

He stared at the window. How…? He was on the fifth floor.

“O-oh…?”

Her ears twitched, up and down. He watched them with fascination.

“Well. I just came to tell you that. That’s all.”

She turned around and placed her hands on the sides of his window.

“What are you–”

She turned back, lifting the hood up and over her head and ears.

“Good afternoon, by the way.”

And she launched herself out the window.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he bolted out of the bed, scrambling to the window. He stuck his head out, looking down. Her sneakers deftly tapped windowsill after windowsill and she dropped down, landing on the sidewalk. She seemed to feel his gaze and looked up.

Tilted her head.

Then pulled the face mask up her nose and walked away as if nothing had happened.

I can smell it, you know.

He turned fifty shades of red and yanked his window closed, locking it, and drew the curtains.

The human had a clean bedroom. Shades of navy and dark wood. Pretty. A lot of speakers. Records. Did he actually play them or did he only have them for aesthetics? You knew humans these days loved aesthetics. It was trendy. That’s all they cared about, really.

So, why did the human do that last night?

You wondered.

Maybe he was desperate or something.

No.

He wasn’t that ugly. And, even ugly humans these days could attract mates. With personality. And such.

Maybe he was a freak or something.

Ah.

Yes.

Sexualizing the Dire.

There were people like that.

You nodded, accepting this as your answer and went on your way.

Jungkook stood at the counter of the records store.

He worked here most days as the cashier. The manager was rarely here. At this point, it was basically Jungkook’s store without the actual responsibility of paying the rent for it. Jungkook was fine with that. He liked talking about music, not fighting with landlords about the raising rent prices.

There were a few people in the store. A guy with dark hair and cat-like eyes, frowning as he looked even though he probably wasn’t upset by anything. He was probably just frowning because that was his default expression. Another guy with colorful clothes and an equally brilliant smile was browsing through the ’80s section. He looked quite cheerful. There was another tall guy with an inquisitive face that was inspecting the artwork on every single record. He nearly dropped them six times.

Jungkook was a little worried about him.

Also, he couldn’t stop thinking about how the Dire said she could smell his orgasm.

Or rather, his orgasm as he thought about her.

Maybe if he just…

Did it without thinking about her.

But that was impossible.

If he tried not thinking about her, then he would end up thinking about her. That was how ‘The Game’ worked and, fuck, now he just lost that too.

Sigh.

“Could I buy this?”

Oh, thank God, please don’t drop it again, Jungkook thought as he pleasantly rang up Kim Namjoon.

Should you eat the cheese?

You ate the cheese.

It was very delicious.

Maybe you should buy more cheese. You father did not like you eating human food. Every meal was only raw meat. It was fine, but boring. You could digest human food, but only in small portions, and still had to eat meat. You didn’t really have much chance to eat human food anyway. But you had bought this cheese out of curiosity. It had smelled interesting.

So, you ate it.

And it was good.

The human was horny again.

The human really needed to stop this.

You rubbed your chin. Perhaps it was the claiming. Still, he shouldn’t have noticed what it was. Humans couldn’t smell it like other wolves could. Maybe he was starved for intimacy. Maybe no other human had licked him like that. You frowned. Why not? He seemed attractive. Long, ashy bleached hair with strong features and pouty lips. He had moles too, one under his lip, one on his nose, and one on his cheek. You only had one on your face, the one under your right eye. He had tattoos, an entire right sleeve, all the way up to his shoulder. You liked the red eyeball one. That was interesting.

You ate another piece of cheese.

You wouldn’t have marked your scent on him, but it was meant to mask his human one. He was going to die if you hadn’t. You didn’t need to do anything other than the simple lick. You had a strong scent, only outdone by the Dire Alpha.

Your father.

You ate another piece of cheese.

The human was really wanting you.

Should you have saved him? You had saved humans before. You did it often, on full moon nights. You never had to mark a claim though. Every other time, all you needed to do was drag them to safety. They sometimes thanked you and sometimes screamed in fear before slamming their doors in your face. Odd. Some thought about you afterwards, but not like this. You father would not like you saving the humans, but you didn’t really care. You father was an ass to the humans.

He was kind of an ass to you too, but he was less of an ass to you than to everyone else, so you accepted it. You were his only daughter, after all.

The human was having a good time.

You raised an eyebrow and ate another piece of cheese.

Let him be.

What if he just…

“This is the third time this week.”

Jungkook jumped, throwing himself into the wall. He was standing in his kitchen, and the window was opening, the female Dire sliding in, hands first, then legs, too much fabric. She must have had a smaller body than her clothes showed, because the window was not that big. The hood of her blue hoodie fell back, revealing her silvery pointed ears. She was still wearing her black face mask. Dark brown pants. Dirty white sneakers all over his countertop.

“H-Hey!”

“Stop jacking off thinking about me.”

“What?”

She slumped down on the counter, legs hanging off the edge. Her ears flickered back and forth. It was early evening. He had been trying to decide on whether to make dinner first or, well.

The other thing.

Her tail slid out of the bunched up blue hoodie, slapping against the gray countertop. Silvery fur, tipped black. It looked really soft. He kind of wanted to pet it. No, he very much wanted to pet it.

“Human.”

Jungkook snapped to attention. He did not really know how to feel about her breaking into his apartment like this. He wasn’t mad at it. Just didn’t understand how or why she kept doing it. He could have opened the front door for her. She didn’t lower her face mask.

“You are distracting me with your constant masturbating, so I would appreciate it if you watched some other porn and did it to that.”

“E-eh?” He swallowed. “H-How would you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I know. I told you, if you want to find me, I can smell it. What more want is there than sex?”

Jungkook blinked at her.

“Are all Dires like that?”

She tilted her head.

“No.”

Finally, she reached up and lowered the mask. Her voice was now less muffled, still husky though.

“Only strong Dires can discern who desires them. And most can only smell it when it’s sexual desire, driven by the need to mate. My nose is a little more sensitive.” Her fluffy tail thumped. “I can smell you if you are simply wanting my presence.”

She didn’t move from the counter. Just kept talking to him as if this was normal.

“Humans do not usually desire Dires. It is typically the other way around.”

Sex slave???

“And Dires frequently simply use humans for fun.”

Jungkook’s brain was still fixated on that weird definition he had found on the internet.

“But, in any case, pheromones are usually not compatible, so therefore most humans don’t even realize they’re not physically attracted to Dires. Which is probably why the segregation is so strong, even now.”

She was giving him a biology lesson and his dick was wondering is he was going to get any action.

“Anyway,” she finally said, raising one of her sneakers to place it on his counter. Jungkook winced. So dirty. He would have to deep clean that counter the second she left. “Go get laid or something.”

“I tried.”

She looked like she was about to get up and paused. Her head turned; wolf ears perked.

Jungkook’s cheeks burned hot as he shifted his eyes. “I tried earlier this week. I wasn’t… masturbating.”

No expression.

She raised her face mask to cover her nose and stood up.

“Human.”

Jungkook looked up at her.

“That’s weird.”

And she slithered out his kitchen window.

He didn’t even bother to see if she made it safely. He could hear her deft sneakers touching the wall before the heavy sound of her dropping down to the sidewalk.

From now on, you ignored it.

Humans were peculiar.

Maybe he was just… weird?

Jungkook leaned against the at the counter of the records shop, hand on his chin tapping his cheek. No one was in the store.

He never really thought about his sexuality much. He just did stuff when the opportunity arose, mostly because he was horny and the chance was there. He never noticed that everyone who was interested in him was human or even those he had a minor interest in were human. Why was that? Why didn’t he think about Dires sexually until that female one licked him like that?

And now she was all he could think about, which was weird because he never really thought about them like that at all.

The wolf people weren’t well liked by society and Jungkook, while not going along with it mindlessly, was definitely influenced by popular opinion. He stayed out of their way, took more care when he noticed a group of them congregating at the sidewalk, and did not have idle chat with them like he would with a human.

He bit his lip thinking about it. He did not like that he only noticed this now.

It took lust for him to realize that he had innate prejudice.

That was a little fucked up.

But better than never noticing?

Jungkook slumped onto the counter. Maybe she could tell. Maybe that’s why she acted so aloof and indifferent. Could she discern his emotions when they were close? He didn’t really know what was fact or fiction when it came to the Dire wolf people. He knew the Dire couldn’t turn humans like the stories. That was just a fable. They could eat them though. That wasn’t a fable.

He wondered how genetics worked. Could they have children?

Was he seriously speculating if be could have children with the silvery female Dire right now?

Jungkook blinked slowly.

Oh, fuck, what if he was weird?

You slipped your silver rings onto your aching fingers.

The wolf one.

The silver band.

The skull with the snake.

The FEED ring.

And now, a large opalescent gem inlaid with a star design around the stone, onto your right thumb.

Around your neck was a medium-weight silver chain, carrying the symbol of the family of the Alpha. The jagged diamond shaped like the full moon with a platinum plum flower pressed into the center. The pendant was over ten centimeters wide and hung like a weight under your collarbones.

This was a stupid tradition.

Still, you put it all on because your father insisted. You were proud to be his daughter, but this shit was unnecessary in your opinion.

You licked the back of your forearm, sighing. You were cleaning the blood off. The gash was deep, but it would heal. It was clotting quickly.

Unlike the other times you were outside, you had been previously dressed in a tight, short, sleeveless robe. Silver, with a black sash, and black shorts. Your tail out and proud, not hidden. Ears up and well brushed, hair braided back. There wasn’t much other clothing, because it all immediately got ripped off.

That’s what happened when you changed into wolf form.

You always wondered why the wolf form was always such a contrast to your human form. It made life somewhat inconvenient.

This tradition was stupid, but it was what your father wanted, so you did as you were told. And besides, you hadn’t wanted to marry the other Dire anyway.

You looked down at the silver rings.

The symbols of each family that had tried to present their suitors to your father. Five in total you father accepted to the ritualistic arena. And all five you defeated, now adorned on your hands. They were all different, from rich to poor. The simpler ones were from the poorer families. Your father didn’t care about family background, at least. He wasn’t classiest. Was that a good point?

Your father only cared about one thing.

Power.

If you were to be Alpha, then you needed to have a strong husband.

The point of the ritual wasn’t for you to be defeated. It was for you to be matched. If you didn’t want the match, you had to defeat your opponent.

Which usually meant kill, but you infuriated your father by only breaking bones until the other Dire begged for the ritual to end. He really hated that, but you didn’t care. The Alpha tried to kill them himself, but you always pinned him down, stopping him.

Your father never told you he loved you. You only knew he did because he let you pin him down and stop him, even though he could probably fight you tooth and nail and win. But not without killing his own daughter and he would never.

“They are strong, Father. You let them in this arena. The pack needs strength.”

It was fucking stupid to kill the strongest men in your pack on the sole basis that they wanted to marry you. Again, why this ritual was stupid. Your father saw reason, but not without losing his temper first and trying to kill them.

Again, why your father was an ass.

You checked the gashes on your naked body. They were clotting fast, a result of your Dire blood and Alpha family strength. They were nothing more than flesh wounds. The other Dire male was strong, but slow. He hadn’t been able to get a good hit on you and make you submit.

One day, you might have to kill your opponents.

You had killed before, executions for those that transgressed the Dire law. If a Dire broke human law, they were tried by the humans. But if they broke Dire law, they were tried by the Dire. And trial by Dire usually meant death. Your father made your carry out the executions, because you didn’t like killing. You felt a little less bad about it because those Dire were seriously twisted.

But once you were Alpha, you would have to fight those who challenged your rule.

Would you kill them?

Or would you let them live and allow them to keep challenging you?

You sighed. That would be very tiring.

It would be much easier if the Dire could listen to reason, but they mostly only listened to strength.

Why couldn’t you be courted like humans? Clumsily falling in love, doing silly romantic actions, nervously picking out gifts. Actually, most Dires were like that too. You were the exception because you were the Alpha’s child. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were male or female. The difference in strength was negligible when it came to the Dire. Your people were not like the humans.

You sat on your bed. Your room was black, with accents of silver. Black furniture with carved images of wolves everywhere. A high canopy bed, with velvet curtains tied back with silver rope. You had never untied them in your entire life. What was the point of them? Too ornate and too frivolous for your taste, but you didn’t pick out this décor. The Alpha did. You didn’t have much interest in interior design anyway. The velvet duvet underneath you warmed your naked body.

You settled down, resting your chin on your hands, legs curled around you.

You did not hate being your father’s daughter, but sometimes you wished your biggest problem was being horny and constantly annoying a Dire with your insatiable lust.

You breathed out and your head tipped over, slowly falling into sleep.

The human was still going at it.

Jungkook was pretty sure he was going to die.

Last time he thought he was going to die, he was saved.

But this time, it was not the night of the full moon and he was already ganged up by five Dire males who decided mugging him and kicking his ass was a great idea on this random Tuesday night.

Should Jungkook have given them the money outright? Yeah, maybe, but he had a bad day, snapped at the first guy and told him to fuck off, only for two guys to grab him by the armpits and drag him into the alley where two more were waiting and they were currently beating the shit out of him. He was fighting back, kicking and twisting, but it was still five guys and he was rapidly losing strength despite the adrenaline. He was a good fighter and he got a couple of good hits, but a couple kicks to the solar plexus and he was seeing stars, gasping, pain all over.

“Stupid human,” one of them cackled. “You should have listened like the weak species you are.”

Fucking shit. Was a rib broken? He didn’t know. His vision was clouding and his lungs were on fire. Why was no one helping him? No one could help him. He was going to die in this dirty back alley.

Don’t let her see me like this.

The roar tore through the night.

Like bowling pins, the Dire males were scattered, flung aside suddenly by a strong force. Jungkook crumpled, unexpectedly let go. A pained shriek left his throat as he hit the floor, his battered body further injured by the concrete. He could barely see, hazed by pain. The only thing he could see was a huge silver blur. He could hear better.

The sounds.

Gashing of teeth, vicious growling, the sound of ripping flesh as claws tore in, violent smacks of bodies being thrown around. Cries of immense pain as the five were thrown around like rag dolls by the massive silver figure. The voice, booming and intense, with the distinctive huskiness.

“Weak, pathetic creatures,” came the snarl, pure authority to the whimpers of the beaten. “Do you think you are strong, ganging up five against one? You insecure imbeciles, I will show you what true strength is.”

“P-please, it’s just a human!”

Another roar and there were the sounds of a slap and a yelp.

“You embarrass the name of the Dire. Get out of my sight or your families will have one less member to feed.”

Teeth snapped savagely and the five males scrambled away, whimpering and sobbing as they rushed out of the alley on all fours. Jungkook could hear the large form letting out huffs of rage and exertion. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. Silver fur tipped with black. Obvious, rippling muscle underneath the layers of fur, down to a bushy tail and canine legs, far too large for a domestic dog. There was a pattern on the wolf’s back. Some of the fur was white, creating the shape of a large crescent moon that went from the shoulder blades to the small of the wolf’s back.

The wolf turned around.

Large silver ears with black tips, elongated snout. A black nose, far too many teeth, and yellow eyes, with a tiny patch of black under the right one, disturbing the otherwise perfectly silver fur. Anthropomorphic, but with long, wicked black claws tipping each finger. Around the neck was a necklace with a circular pendant, jagged diamond with a platinum plum flower pressed in the center, five rings slipped onto the chain. A wolf with opalescent eyes. A silver band. A skull with a snake. A script one that read, FEED. A large opalescent gem with stars. The pendant and rings looked small on the furry chest, but Jungkook suspected it was because the wolf was huge.

He had never seen a fully transformed Dire in real life before.

The wolf bent down, breathing out. Hot, heavy, intense.

“Human,” the wolf said, voice deep but still recognizable.

Jungkook whispered her name, pain overtaking him.

“You should have called for me.”

He woke up.

Everything hurt.

He was in the hospital.

He tried to lift his head and look around, but he couldn’t focus on anything. It was like his eyes hadn’t been opened in years and they no longer knew how to process light. All he saw was a black blob at the end of the bed, furry silver splotches twitching at his movement.

Unconsciousness took over once again.

“You’re free to go.”

His parents picked him up from the hospital. They asked him so many questions, and Jungkook struggled to answer with his limited memory. He was worried for them too, asking about the medical bill, wishing he hadn’t been so stupid and put such a burden on them, but they blinked at him, confused.

“The nurses said everything was paid for already.”

What?

“They said someone brought you to the hospital and an anonymous donor paid for everything.”

You father found out you saved the human.

The five wolves had babbled, the little shits.

He was angry at you, but also proud you smacked around the five Dires like the bitches they were.

Still, you used his money to pay for the medical bills.

So.

He had you kill each one in front of their parents.

It was very unpleasant.

You told him that wouldn’t earn you much favor with the pack if you were killing them over a simple human. Your father told you that was your problem for saving the human. You could have let the five Dires kill the human and let them be persecuted by the humans instead of saving him and letting the Alpha decide the fate of the Dires.

“But then the human would be dead.”

“So?”

Your father was an ass.

“How are you, human?”

Jungkook mumbled in his sleep. He squinted and blinked as he heard the raspy voice. It felt a little cold. He could feel a slight breeze. He turned his head and opened his eyes.

The female Dire was looking down at him.

He jumped, but she pressed a hand to his chest, steadying him. Pain shot up his torso from the sudden movement. Her black hood was pushed back, revealing her hair and her large wolf ears. Face mask taken off, hanging by one ear. The hand on his chest was her right. Three rings. Gem on the thumb, skull on the middle, FEED script on the ring finger.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

His window was open. Of course.

She looked solemn. Worried. Tired.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked.

She removed her hand and brushed his hair away from his face. He hadn’t been able to upkeep the blond well because of his injuries. It was getting a little brassy. His mom came over every week for a few hours to help him out with house chores, but he bathed alone. He could still do it, slowly. His parents lived in a different province, after all.

“I am a bit disappointed you didn’t think of me immediately,” she said quietly with a small smile. “Am I only interesting to you when you’re jacking off?”

His cheeks heated. “U-uh…”

She lowered her hand to the bed. “Then again, you were probably too busy thinking about survival.”

She looked sad for some reason. Jungkook frowned, watching her look around his room.

“Have you been getting by well? Do you need monetary help?”

“Was it you?” he questioned.

She turned back. She seemed to know what he was referring to. “It was me.”

“Are you rich?”

She tilted her head. “Something like that.” Amusement flitted in her eyes. “Is that it, human? You want money?”

Jungkook looked into her eyes.

“Why do you always think you know what I want?”

The female Dire paused. Jungkook had been thinking about this for a while now. She seemed to have a fixed opinion of who he was, not bothering to learn more. She came and went as she pleased, as if she owned the place. She was not without some sense of entitlement. He didn’t know why that was, but he had accepted it because of his initial attraction that was still very much there. But he too, was disappointed. He was disappointed that she didn’t try to get to know him and simply observed him and assumed things.

She smiled a little. “I suppose it is because of the way I grew up.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

She chuckled. “No, human, it is not.”

“I have a name, you know,” he pouted.

Her smile widened. It was pleasant, not teasing or mean.

“Yes, Jungkook, I remember.”

“Why do you only come through the window?” Jungkook complained.

She crawled through the opening, hands touching the floor first before swinging her legs in, removing her sneakers and placing them on the towel next to the window.

“Because,” she said, patting down her gray hoodie. “I don’t like the door.”

“Why not?”

“The humans will see me enter.”

Jungkook pursed his lips. “It’s the same.”

“It is not,” she retorted. “If I enter by the door, your neighbors will have reason to question you, judge you, hate you. If I enter by the window, then they will only find out by being nosy and they cannot display this obvious prejudice to your face.”

“Someone will think you’re breaking and entering and call the police.”

“I will handle it then.”

Jungkook frowned. “Who cares if they hate me?”

“I do.”

She pushed her hood back and made eye contact with him.

“I care.”

She looked down at the laundry he was attempting to fold.

“You are terrible at that.”

“You have another ring.”

“Yes.”

It was a black stone with a bone pressed into it as the silver band.

“What do they mean?”

You looked down at it. It was on your left index finger. You were wiping the blood of the gash above your left eyebrow in his bathroom. He looked much better now, the human. Fuller, less broken than the last time you saw him. You saw some bruising on his ribcage, but he was mostly healed now. In contrast, you ached all over, wrapped up underneath the large blue hoodie you wore. The gash on your eyebrow had reopened when the girl in his bedroom had thrown one of his Bluetooth speakers at you when you entered from his window.

Well, to be fair, you had thought he was masturbating.

He made this confusing sometimes.

“I think I scared her.”

Jungkook laughed. “You did. She fucking ran.”

“Are you going to explain?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I could, but she was pretty drunk when she got on top of me, so I don’t even know if she will remember.”

He was naked at first, but he yanked on some underwear after you appeared. The first couple times you visited him, he cared more about his appearance, but as time went on, he seemed to care less and less. He was more worried about your cut that was already clotting.

“What do they mean?” Jungkook asked again, pointing to the rings.

“They’re trophies,” you replied, flecking away from dried blood into his sink. “From defeating the suitors trying to woo me.”

“Huh.” Jungkook watched you rinse off your eyebrow. “You can’t just get drunk and fuck?”

“I can. I just have to viciously beat the living shit out of them if they want to marry me.”

“Damn, every Dire has to do that?”

You lifted your head, water dripping down your face.

“No.”

You suddenly felt very heavy.

“Just me.”

Jungkook stared at you through the mirror. His blond hair was more well-kept now, ashy and light.

“Why?”

You wiped the water off, shaking your hand onto the sink bowl.

“Because of tradition.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like that tradition sucks ass.”

You chuckled. “It does.”

He scratched his nose. “Uh, so… Why did you come?”

You stared at the drain of the sink.

“Because you wanted me.”

You could hear the embarrassment in his voice. “But you, uh… never come during the act.”

You kept staring at the drain.

“You have a nice life, Jungkook.”

“Huh?”

You lifted your head, exhaling tiredly. You were aware he was watching you, but you were looking at yourself, at the cut above your eyebrow, at your own eyes, hours before bloodthirsty and violently gold, at the pointed teeth and the furry ears and the everything, the fucking everything and for some reason you hated it all, you hated it and wanted to be human, just like Jungkook, just be human and do dumb shit like have drunk sex with a stranger, but instead you had just competed in some primitive combat ritual with some male Dire who thought he was hot shit and wanted to be the Alpha’s partner.

You wanted to scream.

“I wish I could just get drunk and fuck.”

Jungkook blinked at you.

“Well, uh… I have some soju… and a dick, so…?”

He was relentless. Why? Was he even aware of it? You suddenly narrowed your eyes.

“Why are you turned on by me?”

Jungkook blinked faster, cheeks flushing pink.

“Uh… I don’t know?”

You frowned. “It shouldn’t be possible.” You turned around and tilted your head at him, inspecting his anxious, self-conscious expression. “All this, since that night. Since the claim.” Jungkook stiffened, but you figured it was because you were verbally analyzing the situation. “But the claim is my scent painted on you. It is a possessive action and should have no effect on the way you feel about me.” You placed a hand on your chin and walked out of his bathroom, still thinking. “Unless for some reason you reacted to my scent. But how could that be? You’re human. Sure, humans sexualize Dires, but it is more of a fetishization in most cases.”

You spun around, standing in his bedroom, where, ten minutes before, he had been in the middle of getting head from a stranger.

“Did you react to my scent?”

Jungkook’s eyes darted from side to side. “Uh.”

You waited.

“I don’t know what that means.”

You waved a hand impatiently. “The scent of the saliva. Is that what you think about when you’re getting off?”

Jungkook shoved his hands in front of his boxer briefs. Your eyes darted down at the action. Then you lifted your gaze.

“You reacted.”

“Uh…”

You moved your tongue in your mouth, producing the saliva enriched your scent. Then you opened your mouth and breathed out, tongue extended and glistening.

Jungkook crossed the room instantly like he was pulled on a string.

You shoved your tongue back in your mouth, startled.

“You do react.”

His body collided into yours and his hands gripped your arms, pushing your body into his. He was breathing hard, right into your face, eyes glazed, lower lip quivering.

“Wha… what happened?” he gasped.

You frowned a little, cocking your head. No one had ever reacted so strongly to your scent before. Sure, all the male Dires were supposedly attracted to you, but that was because you were the Alpha’s daughter and all of them wanted to be the Alpha’s partner. But Jungkook’s reaction was completely pure, because he had no such external desires that drove his attraction.

Just one weird night where you licked him in the face.

She was so close.

So fucking close.

And Jungkook could smell it, feel it, needed it.

“Uh… I know you’re trying to break down the science of this, but I’m really fucking horny right now.”

Her silvery ears flicked upwards and she raised her head to make eye contact with him. Was it his imagination or did her irises become flecked with gold?

"Oh, right. I suppose you are."

He frowned at that. She seemed to be contemplating something. Then she removed her arms from his hands. He let go, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach remained. Like he was possessed, like all of his blood was calling him to the Dire.

"Jungkook," she said slowly in that husky voice of hers. "Today is not a good day to see my body."

I beg to differ, he wanted to say, but she cracked her neck, holding up her left hand, the black stone on the index finger gleaming.

"I had a fight today, so I've got some cuts," she clarified. "Don't want to bleed all over your sheets and stuff."

"Oh." Right. He wondered how bad it was. "Are you in pain?"

She tilted her head, one ear flattening. Fuck. She looked so cute.

"No. Well, I am, but it's familiar so it doesn't seem too bad."

The ear raised again and she breathed in, eyes on him once more. No, he wasn't going crazy. There was definitely gold laced in her iris color.

"Let me smell you, Jungkook."

"Uh... sure?"

She leaned in, sniffing his neck. Jungkook was suddenly aware that he was mostly naked, but there was no time to think about that as her breath wafted against his collarbone, her silvery wolf ear brushing his jaw. Oh! It was furry. Well, yeah, duh, it was obviously furry, but he hadn't expected the contact. He stiffened as she bent down, sniffing his chest, tilting her head this way and that, not touching him except for the soft huffs of breath on his skin. It was not making him any less horny. In fact, it was making it worse. Hopefully she didn't–

She dropped to her knees and took a huge whiff his crotch.

Oooooookay, now that wasn't what Jungkook thought was going to happen, but he wasn't exactly complaining, but also it was kind of embarrassing because he was pretty damn hard now–

She shoved her nose into his clothed cock and inhaled.

He moaned.

What?

He couldn't help it! He was already horny, was midway in getting a blowjob from some random girl he picked up at a bar but spent the entire said blowjob thinking about her tongue, and then the female DIre interrupted by arriving, and after that she did that weird breathing thing that made his body all hot and bothered, and now her face was all up in his dick!

She nuzzled around, either ignoring or not caring about how he was grimacing, trying to muffle his lustful groans behind closed lips. Did he maybe have a preference for blowjobs over pussy now because of the whole lick-on-the-face thing? Maybe. Okay, yes, absolutely. Was this probably turning him on too much?

Yes. Yes, it was.

Jungkook looked down. Oh, fuck. It made him harder, seeing her face pressed into his crotch, eyes closed, nose buried in the crook of his cock and balls, silvery ears perked with interest. Her bushy tail poked out of her hoodie, swaying from side to side.

Was her tall... wagging?

She inhaled sharply and one of his balls pressed against the fabric, right to her soft lips.

His hips bucked into her face.

She made a disgruntled noise and pulled back, rubbing her nose.

"Sorry! S-sorry, it's too... a-are you okay?" Jungkook sputtered, very disappointed in himself.

She made a strange noise, hurrrmph, and sat down on the floor, pushing her sleeves up. He saw the scratches on her arms, cut up and slashed, but all clotted and dark. Did she heal quicker than a human? Her hands glinted with the various silver rings.

"You smell different than a regular human," she murmured. "Do you have wolf blood in your family?"

"Uh... no? At least, I don't think so?" Jungkook scrunched up his face. He didn’t remember any Dire present at his family reunions.

She pursed her lips. "Maybe it's a genetic mutation."

He wished she would address the fact that she had made a giant tent in his boxer briefs instead of trying to break down the biology of his desire for her.

"Maybe I'm attracted to you too? Maybe that’s why you smell different," she pondered. "But I can't really tell until I smell your orgasm."

Please, you're driving me crazy.

"Well, uh, that could be arranged... in probably less than a few minutes..."

She raised her eyebrows and looked up at him.

"Okay."

She placed her hands on her lap and sat up, opening her mouth. Pink tongue sliding out, white pointed teeth visible. Wicked, sharp, definitely capable of chewing on flesh.

Oh.

No.

This wasn't turning him off.

"Um... should I just...?"

"Onto my tongue, mhm," she said with her mouth open.

What?

"Er... this is kinda awkward..." he said, even though his dick was screaming at him to fucking do it.

She closed her mouth. "Do you need encouragement?"

Jungkook felt his face heat. "Uh..." He watched her tail sway slowly. "Maybe?"

"You seem hard enough."

He swallowed.

"You also have casual sex with strangers."

Yeah, his face was definitely on fire.

"So, what's the difference?"

I don't know, maybe because... the reason I have casual sex with strangers is because I can't stop thinking about your tongue and saliva???

Then it hit him again.

The feeling, the need, rising, all encompassing, like a flurry of desire overtaking him. Jungkook snapped his head back to see her tongue trace her teeth, coating them with saliva, the scent, the scent. He could smell it and rousing him instantly, suffocating the embarrassment.

"Y-You're cheating..." he moaned, his fingertips touching the waistband of his underwear, cock throbbing uncomfortably.

A single eyebrow raised. Playful. Ears perked, tall rising, eyes flecked with gold, the mole underneath her right inner corner a little scrunched from her smile. Mouth open, tongue glistening.

She breathed out.

Jungkook had a split second of – how weird does this make me? – before he realized he didn't give a shit and shoved his underwear down, right hand clasping his stiff length. Oh, fuck, it felt so good, even if he was only touching himself, because he could see her, her face, her tongue, smell the scent that had covered him that night. He stroked himself right in front of her face, grasping his cock firmly and pumping it, wincing at the lack of lubrication.

"C... closer, please..."

Her eyes traveled down. She slid closer, hot breath on his hand and the swollen head.

"Move your hand," she rasped.

He whimpered and lowered his hand to the base of his cock, holding it in place.

"A-are you going to...?"

Her eyes flickered upward. Smirk on her lips.

"You look like you need some assistance."

Then she collected the saliva on her tongue and let out drip down onto his swollen cock.

Ho-o-oly shit.

Warm, wet, thick, saturated with her scent, so erotic that his hand slid up to catch it and spread it all over him, his length, his balls, fucking everywhere. His head was clouded, his core was on fire, his cock was slippery, and her eyes were on him, blazing gold.

"Better?"

The scorching rasp faded on his equally hot skin.

Jungkook was gone.

His hand was moving automatically, closing around him and pumping fast and hard, breathy gasps leaking from his lungs, instinct taking over and consuming him, completely focused on chasing his release, staring into gold and peeled back lips exposing sharp teeth and strings of saliva clinging to the insides of her dark pink mouth and tongue. He whimpered in desperation, her name drifting out of his lips like smoke.

Her tongue lowered, dripping spit onto his bedroom floor.

"Jungkook."

Like a rumble, deep in her chest, a command.

The fire inside him exploded and he gasped, grabbing her head and shooting straight into her open mouth, coating her tongue, teeth, and lips. The force was so strong that his entire body shook, fingers grasping one of her silvery ears, pleasure shooting up his spine like lightning, racking his ribs. She growled low, tongue scooping it in, swallowing in large gulps, voracious grunts as she leaned forward, swiping her tongue on the head to collect the last bits dribbling from the tip.

O-oh, fuck, it was pure elation and ecstasy.

The high was so high that Jungkook momentarily forgot he was standing and fell, tanged from his underwear still around his knees, yelping as strong arms caught him and brought his shaking body to her chest. Almost possessive. Her breathing was coming out in harsh puffs, tongue still licking her lips.

She reached up and brushed his blond hair out of his eyes. The gold streaks in her irises still seemed so strong.

"Are you okay?" she chuckled. "People don't usually fall over."

"Uh... yeah..." His face heated at their closeness but, somehow, he didn't want her to let him go. He was much too large to fit in her lap, but she held him easily as if this wasn't awkward for her at all. "I don't usually, uh... fall over."

She hummed. Jungkook started as her fluffy tail brushed against his legs. So soft.

Silence.

Her breathing calmed, the gold fading. Her left hand on his leg raised and she swept back her hair, rubbing the ear he had yanked at.

"Oh, sorry... sorry about that..."

Her right hand was around his back and upper arm. She turned her head, face right next to his. He gulped. She lowered her left hand, placing it on his chest.

"Don't worry. I doubt you could do any real physical damage to me," she chuckled, caressing his skin.

Their faces were so close. If he just...

"So, uh... what are the results?" Jungkook whispered.

Her eyes weren't giving him any hints. He kept staring at the mole underneath the inner corner of her right eye.

"Hm?"

"Uh." Mole. Eyes. Mole. Eyes. An amused spark as she noticed. His eyes dropped down to her lips. "Are you... attracted to me?"

Wait.

She tilted her head.

The lips were getting closer.

"Unfortunately for you," she whispered. "I am."

And then she kissed him, soft and warm, a resigned sigh in her chest, her hand holding him close. She still tasted a little bit like his cum, but he could also taste the unique flavor of her, sensual and addictive. His hands found her hoodie and he righted himself, pressing back into her lips. She smiled, backing up a little. He whined, tugging her back, but she was stronger, unmoving.

"Jungkook," she said gently. "Maybe calm your insatiable hormones for a second and think about what I am."

He opened his eyes, gazing at her through his lashes.

"You're a fucking tease, that's what you are," he hissed, grip on her hoodie tightening. "You can't just give me a taste and not expect me to want more."

Her smile was frisky, but also rueful.

"Ah, I admit I probably shouldn't have done that." She placed her hands on his, silver rings cool in his hot skin. Prying his fingers open one by one, releasing his grip on her. "Perhaps my curiosity got the best of me."

Jungkook frowned. "You're not a cat."

She laughed. It was like a bark, a little husky, but lovely, full of life. It sounded genuinely happy, fading into light chuckles.

"Not tonight, alright? I'm all beaten up." She pointed to the cut above her brow. "It's worse under these clothes, believe me."

"I can be the judge of that."

She flicked his chest. He winced, rubbing the sore spot. Damn. She had a mean flick.

"Give me some time." She stood up, looking troubled.

"Okay."

He yanked his underwear back up as she went over to her sneakers, slipping into them.

"But don't take too long or I'm going to relentlessly jack off thinking about you now that I have more material."

She was halfway out the window but stopped, looking back at him with a raised brow.

"Jungkook."

She pulled up her hood.

"You're weird."

And then she jumped down.

"Yeah, yeah, don't keep reminding me," he mumbled, shoving the window closed and drawing the curtains.

part ii

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #jk x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jk x you

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spideymarvelws · 4 years

Text

What The Eyes Can’t See

Prologue

Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (Royal!au)

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Warnings : death of an animal, mention of injury, some violence

Series Summary :

People are afraid of change, afraid of the impossible, afraid of things that are not known. But how can they not be curious? How can they stay in the kingdom grounds, knowing that they live everyday on a repeat until their grave? Aren’t they curious to what lies beyond the forests? Whats hidden behind the trees? The wonders that lie outside the harsh walls that are set around them?

“The king be dammed,” you muttered, the rules that where set upon you the furthest thing from your mind. Riding your horse out of the borders, you did what you have always done best, you ran, the only thing keeping you going was being back with you family, your home. You could hear the guards quickly approaching, the shout of your betrothed growing closer. You can’t give up, not yet, not when you have your own love chasing you, looking for you, waiting for you.

But yet, you couldn’t decide which direction they were coming from....

Word Count : 1.3k

...

“Never take your eyes off the target. Keep your eyes open to every movement and trust your instincts when aiming the arrow to pierce the enemies skin,” your father whispered from behind you, staring intensely down at the clueless animal, nibbling on some grass.

“Rabbits are our enemies?” You whispered back, fixing your posture while sticking out your tongue.

“Figuratively yes,” he said, poking your side making you suppress a giggle, “Now concentrate firefly, you could do this,”

Digging your feet further into the ground, you straightened your back and shut one eye giving all your attention to the furry creature. You held your breath as you realised the arrow, watching closely as it cut threw the air and pierce through the rabbits neck.

“Yes!” You shouted, pumping your fist into the air, jumping around, “I did It father! I did it! Did you see?”

Your father let our a loud chuckled, bringing you into his side and ruffling your hair, “I knew you could do it firefly,” he pushed you playfully, “Lets go get dinner shall we? All thanks to you of course,”

You nodded cheerfully, bathing in the complements. Tugging at your father’s arm, you pulled him along to collect the kill.

“Okay, okay firefly, how about you do this one hmm?”

You nodded eagerly, grabbing the gunny sack from his satchel and running down the hill. Your father smiled at your joyous behaviour, letting out a heavy sigh at your antics. You were growing up to be like your mother with every growing second.

He watched as your small hands grabbed the animal by the legs, stuffing it in the bag, nearly falling down with its weight, but never giving up in getting its body fully inside. You turned you head to face him when you finished, determination glowing in your eyes as they meet his soft ones.

“Can we go deeper into the forest father?” You asked innocently, tilting you head to the side, “I’m sure we could find the rest of the group and have a big feast for the whole town!”

Your father froze for a bit, his expression turning cold for a second before he forced a smile, bending on his knee in front of you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You know we can’t do that firefly, we’ve already traveled too far from home, we have to get back before sun down,”

“But that didn’t stop us last time!” You desperately, crossing you arms. “Last time was a mistake,” He responded harshly, taking a deep breath, “Last time won’t happen again, now let’s get back okay?”

“Yes father,” you said faintly. His tone left no room for discussion, leaving you quiet for majority of the trip back.

Only a few yards away from your cottage, your father stopped you with his arm turning around to face you with a sad smile, kneeling in front of you once again. He grabbed the necklace your mother gifted you with the same engravings as your bow. His other hand rested on your arm.

You kept your gaze on your shoes and the grass at your feet.

“Look at me firefly,” he murmured, grinning as you slowly raised your head, “Do you know why we couldn’t go further?”

You nodded shyly, “King’s orders, to keep us safe from the outsiders,”

“And do you know why we must obey those rules?”

“To keep the town and us safe,” you looked off to the side.

“And that,” your father turned your head to face him, “Will always be my number one priority, your safety is above everything else good in this world, and I will do everything I can to ensure that. I know you’re curious as to what lies beyond the stakes, but trust me, your time will come,” he placed his hand on your cheek, wiping away a tear, “And when it does, you’ll be the best of us,” “But when will it father?” You questioned, “I’m tired of waiting, Im tired of waking up to do the same thing every day,”

“Soon firefly,” he pulled you into a hug, “I promise,”

You sighed, relaxing into his chest as you resting your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. But the moment was short lived, interrupted by rough voices, shouting in the distance.

“Where is he!” It shouted, “Where is he!”

Pulling away from your father, you both whipped you heads around in the direction of the sound. Looking back at your father, you took notice of the panicked look on his face.

“Father?” You whimpered, “Father are you alright?”

“You know that I love you firefly?” He said frantically, “I love you so much okay? I need you to trust me and stay behind that tree okay? Don’t move for anyone or anything alright? Don’t let anyone see you okay?”

“Father? Whats going on?” You asked, grabbing on to his arms, not wanting to let go, “Father?”

“Y/n,” he said seriously, the low rumble of horse hooves beating against the ground could be heard in the distance, “Go behind the tree, stay, and don’t trust anyone,” he grabbed at the necklace again, “Trust your instincts okay?”

“Yes father,”

“Now go,” he said, “And whatever happens, run,”

With that, you ran behind the thick trunk, peaking your head out to see what was about to happen.

Three horses with heavily armed guards on the saddle came riding in, surrounding your father. Catching a glimpse of the kingdoms emblem on his sleeve, you watched helplessly as one of the men jumped from his horse, grabbing your father roughly by the arms and tying them behind his back. You silently cried when he showed so sign of fighting back.

The guard whispered something into his ear, kicking him in the back of the knee causing his to fall when he didn’t respond. You let out a small cry, directly covering you mouth, pressing yourself against the bark, but it was too late.

“Don't forget to run,”

You sprinted off, resisting the urge to grab you bow and practise your skills of the man who played a hand on your own blood.

Leaves and branches crashes against you body, blinding your sight, but you kept running, the one thing that stayed on your mind. So many other emotions tried to make its way to your thoughts. Fear, betrayal, confusion, curiosity, but you pushed it all away, shaking you head, trying to hold back the tears.

With your vision slightly clouded, you tripped on a rough break in the ground, sending you toppling down a slope. You bit your lip, struggling to grab on to loose roots or bushes to stop your momentum but you continued your downfall. You landed on the flat ground directly on your right shoulder, sending a searing pain throughout your body. But you had no time to acknowledge it, gritting your teeth you tried to find your footing again, the voices drawing nearer feeling your fear and will.

Struggling to stand, you heard the sound of an arrow being released, being sent in the opposite direction, distracting the guards a bit. A boy around the same age as you ran up to you, helping you up and pulling you behind a thick bush. The blond boy held his pointer finger in front of his mouth, signalling you to be quiet. You focussed on the voices that came from the guards that were dangerously close to your hiding spot.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know sir,”

“Then find her! You have till dawn to bring her to me.”

“Yes sir,”

“Don’t let me down, or else both of us will be answering to the king,” After a few moments of boots crunching the shrubbery beneath it, the man made its way away from your hiding spot.

“Follow me,” The boy whispered, taking your hand in his, tugging you to stand. You stood up with him, but pulled your hand from his grasp.

“How do i know to trust you,” You sniffed, hugging your right arm tightly. The boy immediately pulled out a chain, similar to yours, hanging around his neck. At the end, it held the same pendent as yours

“Because I’m one of you,”

...

A/n : I’m sorry for posting this so late, shit just happens ig but i hope you enjoyed the prologue! In the first chapter, things will defiantly start to pick up the paste a bit, maybe get a little steamy as well, i don’t know...

Taglist: @jadegill @bluevxnus @learisa @supernaturalwintersoldier

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #royal!au #king!bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #steve rogers x y/n #stucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #king!bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x you #stucky x you #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers imagine #stucky imagines #stucky imagine

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wingsofkpop · 5 years

Text

Finding SKZ - 7: JH00

pairing(s): Hybrid!Bang Chan x Reader, Hybrid!SKZ x Reader

genre: Hybrid!AU, Dystopian!AU, heavy heavy heavy Angst, smudge of Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, violence, blood and gore, sexual themes, abuse, mentions of death, flashbacks, possible triggering topics

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains explicit scenes of abuse and violence. Please do not read if this will trigger you. This is your final warning.

word count: 6,9k

synopsis: After rescuing an abandoned hybrid from his fate of death, he has one other favor to ask of you. Not only do you have to find his eight other hybrid brothers, but you have to keep them safe from the deadly dangers of your city: Miroh

chapter directory

A/N: This one’s seriously tough. Please make sure you carefully read the warnings. As I always say, if you need someone to talk to about anything, my inbox is always open. Be safe and enjoy.

Rays of sunlight spill through the parted curtains, gently coaxing you from your peaceful slumber. Drowsily, your eyelids part only to snap shut, your hazy mind sensitive to the light. You attempt to escape the sun’s wrath and turn to your other side, sighing in relief at the dimmer light level. You snuggle further into your pillow, tugging the bed sheet tighter against your body as a sudden chill cascades across your skin.

Your chilliness recedes as a new source of warmth sidles up to next to you. Although there’s remnants of sleep still fogging your head, you could guess the identity of your personal heater. You cuddle closer, your body molding against the other as your head takes purchase upon a broad chest. A sigh of content emerges from your throat when an arm winds around your waist, hands tracing light patterns across your back while another threads through your hair.

The figure chuckles at your attempt to move closer to his body, “Babygirl, I don’t think you can get any closer.”

You huff and answer without opening your eyes, “Can’t help it… You’re so warm.”

“Perks of being part wolf, I guess.” Your companion murmurs, brushing a couple stray strands from your face, “That and I can clearly hear your heart beating.”

“That’s not creepy at all.” You giggle, caressing what you find to be his muscular bicep. Using your fingers, you follow the limb down to his hand where you weave your fingers together. Like puzzle pieces, your palm fits perfectly inside his.

“It’s a good thing, I promise.” He pulls your intertwined hands up to his face and only seconds later, you feel his lips dotting the surface of your knuckles with soft pecks. He pulls away with one last kiss to the crease where your palm meets your wrist before leaning forward to press his lips against your forehead.

When he pulls away, you choose to open yours eyes, immediately meeting the familiar chocolate brown irises. You smile, “Hi.”

“Good morning, princess.” Chan murmurs with a matching grin, running his hand through your hair yet again. “Sleep well?”

You hum a yes, leaning more into his comforting touch. If you could, you would fall asleep again just at the feeling of his fingers running through your hair. Not wanting to do so, you focus your mind on things other than sleep. Like the hybrid in front of you.

Chan had been sleeping in your bed with you for the past week, not because there wasn’t any space left because seriously, the couch you bought could fit another four or five people, but because he claimed he wanted to be closer to you. You weren’t one to argue though. You rather enjoyed the warmth and tranquility he brought during the nights.

You notice his wolf ears twitch and an amazing thought pops into your head. You unravel your other hand from the blankets and reach up. Carding your fingers a few times through his blonde tendrils, you then start to scratch at his furry ears. Chan practically melts beneath your touch, a content rumble resonating from his chest. You watch his eyes flutter shut, his lashes kissing the bones of his cheeks, and jaw go slack. The sight brings a nice warmth to spread all throughout your body.

Leaning forward, you press your own lips to the bridge of his nose before following a path down to the corner of his lips. When you pull away, his eyes were open again and boring straight into your own. Chan squeezes your still joint fingers and asks, “Can I kiss you?”

You shake your head with a laugh, “You don’t have to ask that anymore.”

“I find it more romantic when I ask.” Chan replies cheekily, kissing your cheek.

You roll your eyes, “Yes. You can kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left your lips, Chan had connected them with his own. The two of you have shared many kisses since then, but it always felt like the first with your pulse racing, body heating and limbs shaking. You loved how gentle he was, moving his mouth against your own and holding your body against his. If you had the chance, you’d wake up to this every day.

But you know you can’t.

The two of you part with a shared sigh. Chan pulls you into a loving embrace, his hands innocently rubbing circles into the bare skin of your back where your T-shirt had ridden up. You melt against him, cursing yourself for being so selfish. Like all the other times, you push those thoughts to the rear end of your mind and bask in the pleasurable moment.

“I love this, just laying here with you in my arms.” Chan’s confession makes the atmosphere even warmer, if possible. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

“Please, don’t ruin it.” You sigh, trailing a hand down his arm. “You know we can’t.”

“What if we could?” Your eyebrows pull into a furrow as you move away to peer into your companion’s eyes. Your heart breaks at the childish hope present within the irises, cracking even further at his words, “I was thinking you could come with us.”

You shake your head, “What are you talking about?”

“To Yellow Wood, (Y/N). You could come with us to Yellow Wood.”

Your heart shatters.

“Chan-”

“-Just think about it, please.” Chan’s plea grinds the pieces of your heart into dust and you find yourself unable to meet his eyes. “Once we get out of this shithole city, we could be together with no limitations. (Y/N), we could start a life together.”

You shake your head, “You know that’s not possible.”

“We don’t know that for sure. It could work.”

“And what if it doesn’t?” You pull away from the hybrid, “Then they’ll kill us both.”

Chan shrugs with a weak smile, “At least we’ll die like Romeo and Juliet.”

You stare at him with incredulous eyes, unbelieving the words that just entered your ears. Frantically, you shake your head back and forth while throwing back the covers. Chan silently watches as you slide from the bed, throwing an old sweatshirt and some worn slippers on. He sighs, “(Y/N), baby, wait-”��

“-We made it clear that whatever this-this… thing we have going on is only for right now. You can’t make false hope like that.”

Chan’s face falls and you hate the sinking feeling that arises within your chest. He smiles sadly before nodding, “Yeah, you’re right… My feelings for you are only temporary.”

“Chan, that’s not what I-”

“-It’s fine, (Y/N). Trust me, I get it.” He sighs, sliding out of the bed. You watch as he pulls on his shirt with sunken shoulders. He throws you one last smile before shaking his head, “I have you now, I should be grateful for that much.”

And with that, he opens your bedroom door and ushers for you to exit first. You grant him a long, sullen glance before following his gesture and stepping out into the hallway. The fragrance of bacon and toast hits your nostrils, and if it weren’t for the sinking feeling of your heart nestled in the depths of your stomach, you would have actually been more excited to eat.

When you round the corner, you take headcount of all the other hybrids. Woojin was stood behind the kitchen counter, plating bacon from a sizzling frying pan. Seungmin and Minho were sat at the breakfast bar, looking at something on your laptop (you really need to get another electronic device in this house). Hyunjin and Felix were on the sofa, watching a cartoon on TV while digging into their own breakfast plates.

You ruffle each of their hairs as you walk by, earning a matching set of grumbles. Woojin sends you a bright grin before handing you two plates, one of which you give to Chan. You immediately take a bite of your toast, hoping it would settle the obnoxious fluttering in your gut. You turn to the other two hybrids, leaning on Seungmin’s shoulder, “What are you two up to?”

“Trying to figure out where Jisung-ah is.” Seungmin answers without looking back at you. He ferociously types something again, before his ears flap in annoyance and he mutters a curse, “Damn it. Nothing.”

“You have a lead?” “Minho-hyung does.”

Confused, you transfer your attention to the coyote hybrid, “Really?”

Minho nods, “When I went out last night, I ran into an old buddy of mine-”

You bite your tongue and hold back your sour comment of him going out alone.

“-basically he said that he ran into Sung-ah a couple months ago while he was off doing a gig in the Southern Edge.” He shrugs, “He thinks he works down there somewhere because he ran into him again last week during another gig. Seungmin-ssi is trying to figure out where.”

The Edges of Miroh are just as they sound: The edges of the city. It’s the area right where the city transitions into the suburbs. The Northern and Eastern are the best ones to live in, Western and Southern not so much. You actually lived in the Southern Edge with your mom before she passed away. You never thought that could be useful until now.

“Maybe I could help, I used to live down there.” You finish off your slice of toast and reach for the other. You steal a couple bites from the bread before peering at the laptop screen where Seungmin had a map of the Southern Edge pulled up. “Okay, where was his gig?”

“Right in this strip mall, but there are barely any stores that come up on the map.” Seungmin answers and points to the lack of titled buildings.

You recognize the location immediately, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. That strip mall was the one and only place where people from your high school ever hung out. They had everything there: Clothing stores, a movie theater, convenience shops, an arcade. It was a teenager’s dream down there.

“Yeah, I know this.” You nod, pointing to the first blank building, “This is the movie theater. My friends and I would always go Tuesday nights when tickets were dirt cheap…”

One by one, you point out each one of the buildings. Seungmin searches them all, but none ever relate to a Han Jisung. By the last building, you had completely lost hope in Minho’s source.

“And again, nothing.” Seungmin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Minho shakes his head, “There’s gotta be something else. Are you sure you didn’t miss anything?”

“That’s all the places I remember. The mall didn’t have much.”

“Wait, what about this?” Both you and Minho snap forward at Seungmin’s comment. You watch as he drags the map to the back of the mall, exposing another hidden unnamed store front.

Confusion ensues and before you can think over your words, they fall from your lips, “The strip club?”

Choking emerges from behind you, and you turn to see Chan struggling at keeping his coffee in his mouth. Hyunjin and Felix were no longer invested within their show, and Hyunjin asks with wide eyes, “A strip club?”

“I mean, yeah, but they closed right before I moved away.” You shake your head, “Something about health code violations or what not. ‘Sex and Lust and Paradise’ was it’s name.”

Seungmin searches the title, and to your surprise, pulls up a full functioning and updated website, “What the-?”

“-Looks like they reopened.” The beagle sighs, turning the screen so everyone could see, “And are aiming at a new audience.”

Woojin groans, “And to think I thought making us fight against one another was the cruelest thing humans could do.”

The breakfast sitting within your stomach twists uncomfortably. You debated actually dashing to the bathroom to relieve the contents, but decide against it. You had heard of hybrid sex trafficking, but you never thought you would ever come face to face with it. Similar to hybrid abuse, the MHA doesn’t condone sex trafficking of hybrids, but the city technically doesn’t have any laws directly prohibiting it. Unlike the fight ring, the business dealers aren’t trespassing on a property that’s not theirs, so it’s free game.

And it definitely sucks.

“I found him.” You don’t like the sad lilt of Seungmin’s voice, and you don’t like the hesitant way he turns the screen to face everyone again. Sure enough, on the screen was a picture of what you assumed to be Jisung. He was knelt on the floor, naked with his hands tied behind his back and a gag ball centered within his mouth. His cat ears were laid at the sides of his head, his thin tail wrapped around his waist. There were tears shimmering across his cheeks, and you don’t think they were fake.

“SLP’s best pussy, J.One.” Minho reads in a hiss, “One hundred percent submissive, tongue made for oral, cutest cock- God, fuck, this is so messed up.”

“How are we supposed to work around this one?” You huff, running a trembling hand through your already tousled strands. “A disorganized fight ring was one thing, but this is a full on business. We can’t just walk in there and demand they hand him over.”

Seungmin shrugs, “We do what we were supposed to do with Woojin and sneak him out.”

“Because that worked so well last time.”

“No, Seungmin is right.” Chan nods, stepping beside you. “We’ll be able to sneak him out no problem. Especially with Minho on our team now.”

Minho shakes his head, “I’m good, Channie-hyung, but I’m not this good. We’re going to need a really good getaway plan to get Sung-ah out of there.”

“Why doesn’t (Y/N)-noona go in and get him out? They do those private dance things for customers, right?” Hyunjin pipes up from the couch. However, his eagerness is glazed over by a particular wolf.

With a deep frown across his face, Chan answers, “Absolutely not.”

“Hyunjin-ah’s idea isn’t bad, Channie-hyung. (Y/N)-ah would be able to-” Minho’s attempt to save Hyunjin’s idea does nothing, only etching the frown deeper on the older hybrid’s face.

“-And I’m saying no. We’re finding another way.”

You sigh, “Chan.”

“It’s not happening, (Y/N).”

Your mind races back in time, and suddenly your stood back in the fight ring. You smile softly, “That’s the same thing I told you when you went in that stupid ring. Do you remember what you said to me after?”

Chan averts his gaze from yours and murmurs in defense, “(Y/N), don’t-”

“-What if there is no other way?” You relay, lifting a soothing hand to lay upon his shoulder. “This could be our only chance at getting Jisung back. This time, I need you to trust me.”

When you meet his eyes, the pain beneath his irises almost makes your decision waver. But you stand your ground, knowing that a lot of hybrids were depending on you. Especially Jisung.

Finally, with a long, dramatic sigh, the wolf hybrid concurs, “Fine, but if anything seems the slightest bit dangerous, I will breaking those fucking doors down and get to you before anything happens to you. If I have to kill someone, I won’t hesitate to.”

The scariest part is you actually believed him.

“Okay, good.” You nod, swallowing the nervous lump inside your throat and looking back at the screen. “All I need now is a ton of cash and a slutty dress. Luckily, I already have one of the two.”

***

“According to their website, private dances cost at least $55 for the first half hour,” Seungmin says, watching Chan count off the cash you pulled out just hours earlier. “You should pay that plus a tip, just so to buy some extra time. And spend a little time doing other things before you approach him. Maybe hand money to other dancers too.”

“Got it.” Whether it was out of anxiety or slight embarrassment, you kept fumbling with various parts of your appearance: Tugging at the neckline of your dress before pulling it down your thighs, fussing with your hair, making sure your makeup was on point. You had to make sure everything screamed “party girl,” and yes, you went a little extra… Maybe too extra now that you think about it.

“You look gorgeous, (Y/N)-ah. I bet Jisung’s not the only one who’ll want to give you a private dance…” Minho’s suggestive comment eases the nerves stirring within your gut, especially paired with the laugh from Woojin. You throw him a playful wink and are met with a chuckle of his own.

Your attention is wrenched away from the coyote and onto an unimpressed wolf. Chan sends Minho a threatening look before focusing back on you. His eyes immediately softening when they connect with your own. He offers you a stack of cash and nods, “There’s three hundred here. Plenty to get you through.”

“Thanks-” You try to take the money, but Chan snaps his wrist away from your outstretched grip.

He looks at you with a pointed expression, lips pressed into a thin line and jaw tense. With a strict tone, he continues, “If you think you are in any sort of danger, you let us know.”

“I got it, Chan-”

“-I’m serious, (Y/N).” You hold in an exasperated groan at Chan’s overprotective nature, but your frustration falters when you notice the absolute seriousness present within his dark irises. He shakes his head, “The guys who run these sorts of things are not people to play around with. You steer clear of everyone, okay? Keep aware of your surroundings.”

“I will. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Chan weakly smiles, “Oh I definitely do. Minho’s right, you look absolutely breathtaking.”

“Is it the dress or the make-up?” You banter, poking at the hybrid’s shoulder. You’re surprised when Chan doesn’t answer and lifts his hand to brush against your cheek. For a moment, you thought he’d lean in to kiss you. But alas, the moment is ruined once again.

Seungmin’s voice emerges from the back of the van, “It’s time, guys. Noona, you have your earpiece?”

“Yep.” You hum, cursing at the loss of warmth that stems from Chan dropping his hand. He hands you the cash, which you stuff into your little handbag, and sends you one last comforting smile:

“I’ll be there, (Y/N). Whenever you need me.” Those words bleed into your brain like ink to paper. They give you the strength to bid one last farewell to Seungmin, Minho and Woojin, and exit the safety of the vehicle you rented just for tonight.

You tug your shawl further around your shoulders, your bare legs defenseless against the winter, night air. Heels clicking against the pavement, you make your way up the sidewalk and up to the entrance of the club. You will yourself not to falter beneath the hawk-like stare of the bouncer stood just beside the door and instead busy yourself with retracting your ID from your bag.

You hand the card to the guard, who inspects it with an unamused expression. After what seems like hours stood shivering in your place, the bouncer nods, “You’re all set. Have a good night.”

“You too.” You answer, grabbing your ID from his hand and shoving it back where it belongs. Before you push through the metal door, you take one last longing glance at the van, hidden cleverly amongst a garbage dump and opaque shadows. You imagine Chan watching you through the windshield, the ghost of his gaze searing into your skin. With one last breath, you muster up whatever courage remained inside of you and step into the threshold.

The chilly air immediately shifts hot and humid to the point you were almost tempted to remove your cover. Pungent scents of booze, cigarettes and sweat hit you head on and you can’t help but wrinkle your nose. You make your way through the short entrance hallway, hurrying past an obviously drunk man making out with a scantily dressed male rabbit hybrid.

When you enter the actual club, you’re immediately bathed in a blend of violet and maroon lights. There’s people everywhere, the majority sat in the audience, tossing dollar bills and yelling inappropriate comments at the dancers on stage. Finding no sign of Jisung, you murmur softly, “Guys, he’s not here yet.”

“...Go to the bar and order a drink then…” Seungmin’s voice carries over the intercom inside your ear, disguised as an inner ear piercing. “...Pretend to drink it though… Make it look natural…”

You hum and head in the direction of the bar. You have to push past a group of girls, ogling at some shirtless dog hybrid humping the floor. Somehow, you’re able to find an empty space at the counter, although the three bartenders are already tending to some other customers. You take the time to peer up at the stage, finding a set list flashing in lights across the top. If you’re correct, and the female hybrid currently dancing is Momo, then Jisung was up next. You didn't know if you were supposed to feel sick or relieved.

“He’s performing soon.”

“...When he does, make sure to do something to get his attention…” Minho’s voice enters your ear drums this time. “...Do something weird, that’ll get him…”

You shake your head, “What are you-?”

“-First time, angel?” You whirl around at the sudden voice, discovering one of the bartenders behind the counter. His arms were lined with tattoos, peeking out from the sleeves of his skin tight black T-shirt.

You recollect your bearings, tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and answer, “Is it that obvious?”

The bartender sends you a soothing smile, “Don’t worry, you’re one out of many. What can I get you, little doll?”

“Uh, I’ll take a dry martini, please.”

“Coming right up, precious.” As the bartender goes about mixing your cocktail, you return your attention to the stage. The dancer had finished her routine and was making her way off the stage and into the crowd of men waiting for her. You notice the lights dimming and the music becoming a lot slower. Another figure makes their way onto the stage, dressed in a black lace corset and matching knee highs. Between his furry cat ears was a tiny bow, one that matched the ribbon tied at the tip of his tail. Your heart drops as Jisung begins his sexual dance.

He wasn’t even smiling.

“Here you go, sweet thing.” You turn back as the bartender sets the drink in front of you.

You nod, “Thanks. How much?”

“Don’t worry about it. Consider it a welcome gift.” The wink he gives you sends a shudder down your spine, and suddenly you’re remembering Chan’s words from earlier. You decide not to press the issue, accept the drink and get the hell away from the bar. You inhabit a vacant table a couple feet from the stage, but in a place where Jisung would surely spot you.

“...(Y/N), you okay?...” Your anxiety loosens at Chan’s caring inquiry. You take a fake sip of your drink and hum in response, not trusting your voice to remain stable.

Jisung’s routine goes by pretty quickly. Multiple times, when he looked your direction, you made sure to give him a thumbs up or a peace sign each time. You could tell he was pretty confused, considering most customers don’t do those sorts of things… At least you don’t think.

The song ends and so does Jisung’s dance. You keep your eyes on him as he makes his way through the crowds, busying himself with taking tips from other willing customers. He pays you no mind, stealing a frustrated huff from your figure, “Guys, it didn’t work.”

“...Try interacting with some other dancers… That should-”

“-Ah, there you are, sweetpea. I found you.” You nearly flinch at the familiar voice, eyes widening at the bartender from before. Obviously noticing your surprised expression, he chuckles and raises his hands, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I-It’s fine… ” You grumble, thumbing at the stem of your glass.

The bartender chuckles again and slides into the seat across from you. He peers over to where you were looking before, tilts his head and asks, “You liked J.One’s dance? He’s our most popular cat hybrid.”

“Yeah, it was nice.” You nod, “He’s really good.”

“Would you like me to set you up with a private dance?” Your eyeballs nearly launch from your head at his offer, trying to find some sort of insincerity laced either between his words or amongst his facial features. You find none. “I actually manage Jisung and all of his clients, so I’d be happy to help you out?”

You narrow your eyes, “What’s the catch?”

He holds his hands up again, “No catch, honestly. Just helping out a pretty lady. Wait here.”

Still filled with confusion, you watch the bartender push his way through the crowd and toward Jisung. They converse about something, Jisung’s gaze averting to you every so often. After a couple more minutes, the both of them begin to make their way back over to you.

“He’s approaching,” You mumble, sipping falsely at your drink yet again.

“...You won’t be able to talk to us in the room…”

“...Be careful, (Y/N)...”

At Chan’s voice, your anxiety lessens, “I will.”

Just as you finish your sentence, the two are already in front of you. The human pushing the hybrid your way with a smirk, “He’s all yours for fifteen, baby cakes. Enjoy it on the house.”

Jisung doesn’t meet your eyes, simply taking your hand and leading you through the crowded club. A lot of other customers glare as you pass, grumbling about the system being unfair. You were too focused on the younger hybrid in front of you, not liking the way his ears were dropped to the sides of his head.

This’ll be his last. You promise him that.

He leads you into a room furnished with nothing but a loveseat. You make your way over there while your companion closes the door. His shoulders bounce in preparation before he turns in your direction, his features pulled into false flirtation. He murmurs suggestively, “Ready for a night you’ll never forget?”

“Oh I’m not going to forget this night,” You shake your head, “but I’m pretty sure it’s because of reasons different from yours, Jisung.”

Jisung’s face pales, “How do you know my real name?”

“My name is (Y/N). I-”

“-Answer my question.”

“Your brothers.” You relish the minimal light that spreads across the younger’s face at the mention of his siblings. “I’m working with your brothers. We’re getting you out of here tonight-”

“-You’re lying...” Jisung hisses, the fur on his exposed tail standing on end. “I haven’t seen my brothers in years. You don’t know a thing-”

“-I know it seems fishy, but you really have to trust me on this.”

The cat hybrid only glares at your words, “You’re human. Why would I ever trust you?”

“Because I can save your life.” You offer your hand to the reluctant male, “You just have to trust me.”

Jisung stares at you for what seems like an eternity. His eyes seemed to be searching yours for signs of untruthfulness or trickery. You hoped the feelings racing through your chest could be seen in your gaze. The sympathy. The concern. The compassion.

Finally, beneath the pound of your pulse within your ears, Jisung fits his hand with your own and murmurs, “Okay. I’ll trust you, but only because I can smell Channie-hyung’s scent radiating off of you.”

You decide not to question his strange remark and squeeze your joint limbs. A bright grin invades your face, pride spilling through your veins. As much as you’d like to celebrate your victory, time isn’t really on your side right now.

“Perfect. How much time do we have left?”

Jisung peers at a portable timer. He probably set it right before he led you here.

“About seven minutes. Why?”

“What’s the most inconspicuous way for us to get out of here?”

The hybrid’s eyes widen, “Hold on. You can’t possibly think you’re going to be able to sneak me out of here.”

You nod, “That’s the plan.”

“You won’t get far.” Jisung sighs, moving his costume to the side to expose a thin, metal collar hugging the circumference of his neck. There was some sort of tech embedded at the front of the band, sat right atop his windpipe. In the center was a flashing red light. You immediately recognize it to be a tracker, having seen one on plenty of other hybrids.

“We’ll find a way,” You lean forward to better inspect the collar, trying to find either a clasp or a weak spot where you’d be able to break it off. Finding none of the sorts, you try a different plan, “What if we take the tracker out?”

The feline watches as you dig through your handbag, thumbing at the electronic device with lost hope, “I doubt you have something small enough that will be able to slide beneath the cover and cut the-”

“Would a paperclip work?”

Jisung raises an eyebrow, “Well I’ll be damned.”

You chuckle, manipulate the paperclip into a usable shape and lean toward Jisung’s collar. Carefully, you slide the point of the clip beneath the box cover which was probably protecting the wiring and power sources. Once it’s as far inside as you can get it, you move your wrist back and forth. If you’re idea doesn’t go down the drain, the point should do at least some damage to the tiny wires.

After one particular flip, the light on the front grows dim. Holding back a smile, you quickly warn Jisung of your succession and gather the items you carelessly discarded from your bag, “Okay, time to go. Which exit?”

“We’ll have a better chance through the one in the storage closet. It leads into an alley that-”

Jisung’s voice cuts out immediately as the door bursts open, catching you off guard and almost bringing you to fall over. Luckily, your companion steadies your clumsy self just as the intruder steps into the room. The bartender, or the manager you should say, takes one look at both you and Jisung before raising an eyebrow, “Your time is up.”

His suspicious facial expression sends terror through your body. You muster up as good of a friendly smile as you can, hoping your anxiety wasn’t too obvious in your body language or eyes. You shake your head, “Damn, I really lost track of time. You weren’t kidding when you said he was really popular, I definitely see why…”

The manager nods with a smirk, “That he is. Best thing I’ve ever invested in.”

You fight off the urge to slap that malicious smile from his face.

“I hope you enjoyed your time. I’ll walk you back-”

“-I was actually hoping I could steal a few more minutes,” You purposely pull your lips into a dramatic pout, batting your eyelashes toward the chuckling male. Kicking it up a notch, to take a step further and gently caress at Jisung’s soft hair. “Couldn’t you make an exception for me?”

The manager shakes his head, “I don’t think so, doll face. In fact, it’s time for you to leave.”

The dark shift of his tone sends a violent shiver down your spine. You blink, your finger frozen against Jisung’s hairline. With a weak smile, you reply with a meek attempt, “Wh-What?”

The man chuckles yet again, wagging his pointer finger with a tsk. He approaches the both of you, making sure to kick the door shut with his foot, and hums playfully, “Sweetheart, I got cameras and voice recorders in every room. Don’t you dare think I don’t know what the two of you were scheming.”

You gulp, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” The manager giggles then turns to the hybrid, “But you do, don’t you, pussy boy?”

Jisung’s yelp has your body jumping almost a foot in the air. His hands fly to his collar. Confused, you watch your companion tremble with what you read as pain. With a closer look, you notice the miniscule electric sparks emerging from the metal contraption. And your mind immediately goes blank.

“Y-Yes!” Jisung answers with a deep gasp, a single tear cascading down his flushed cheek.

“That’s what I thought.” The manager growls, twirling a remote control around his thumb and forefinger. “Now, hot lips, I suggest you follow me outside before things get ugly.”

“If you think I’m going to allow him to remain in your fucking hands, you must be out of your goddamn mind.” You hiss, shielding the younger’s figure with your own. You shake your head with vigor, “I’m not going anywhere.”

The manager sighs, “That’s too bad. I really didn’t want to have to hurt you.”

“You won’t touch me.”

“You’re in my club, sugar. I can do whatever the hell I want.” His fingers wrap around your left wrist before you can react. He pulls you against his body, his same arm winding around your waist and pinning your arms to your sides. Fueled by anger and sudden adrenaline, you try to squirm out of his tight grasp, but find no avail. His strength outmatches yours.

His other hand comes across your cheek with a loud snap, stinging pain erupting across your skin. He does it once, twice, then finishes with a third and allows you to collapse to the floor, clutching your bleeding lip and wounded cheek.

“Leave her alone!” Jisung tries to charge at the human man, but drops to his knees mid-stride. His scream tears at something inside of you, the sight of him writhing on the carpeted floor filling you with so much unadulterated anger you’ve never felt before. Seeing red, you throw yourself at the manager, clawing at his face. Not expecting your counterattack, the man doesn’t dodge in time for your fingernail to scratch at his eye.

He shoves you away, cupping his eyes, blood dripping through the cracks of his fingers. You look around to forge another plan, discovering a vase of red roses sat atop an accent table right beside the door. You grab it with no hesitation, raise it high above your head and bring it down over the man’s head. Hard. The vase shatters and he collapses to the floor littered with glass shards. Unmoving. .

You scramble for the remote control in his hand and hit what you hope is the off button. Sure enough, Jisung grows calm, laid still on his back. You rush to his side, cup his face and call his name softly, “Sung… Jisung, sweetheart…”

At your voice, Jisung’s eyelids snap ajar, exposing his teary irises. Liquid sadness of your own wells beneath your lids, but you hold them back. You have to be strong. For both Jisung and yourself.

“C’mon, we have to go now.” You help the cat hybrid to his feet, steadying him with an arm around your shoulders. The two of you hobble from the room and Jisung tries to direct you toward the storage room. Luckily, there’s no one else in the hallway so you’re able to navigate yourselves without any issues. You reach the closet in minutes, although it seemed like hours, throwing the door open with desperation and launching yourselves inside.

Jisung points to another door across the room, “There. That’s the exit.”

You lurch forward, ready to feel the bite of winter air nipping against your bare skin. You could almost taste the cold on your tongue, but you’re stopped when the obstacle refuses to budge. You push harder against it, thinking it was just frozen shut and needed a little motivation. Your attempts fail.

“Shit, shit, shit. This is not happening right now.” You shake your head feverishly, banging on the door. “What’s wrong? Why won’t it open?”

“Some idiot locked it from the outside. We need to pick the lock. Do you still have that paperclip?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” I retract your trusty tool from your bag and with fumbling hands and bend down to pick at the lock. Your hands were shaking way too much, body fighting off the beginnings of an anxiety attack. You will your mind to calm the fuck down, but it doesn’t listen. Your body is moving on it’s own at this point.

After the longest few seconds of your life, a click reaches your ears and the door basically falls open. You squeal in delight, but your glory doesn’t last.

“You are fucking dead, Han! You and your little bitch!” Peering behind you, you see the manager from before stalking down the hallway. A patch of blood running across his forehead and a knife in his hand. You yank Jisung out of the room, tugging him into the shadows of the night. The two of you stagger toward the street, where you hope the boys would still be parked. It’s your ass on the line.

“Shit, I’m in the alleyway right beside the club. I need you guys to get here before-”

You’re unable to finish your plea when Jisung is quite literally ripped away from your grasp. You reach out for him again, only to be pulled into another body. Pain shoots through your marred cheek as the manager slices a clean stripe across your skin, warm blood immediately cascading down onto your lips. He throws you forward and you fall against the concrete with a sickening thud. Your body scrambles to get to its feet, but a hard kick to your stomach halts that plan.

He proceeds to knock all the air from your lungs with every time his foot connects with your rib cage. You cry in pain, attempting to kick your own limbs out to do some damage. But your actions are futile and all you can do is lie there and allow him to beat the shit out of you:

“Should’ve left when you had the fucking chance, doll. You brought this on yourself.”

You knew this was the end with how fast your mind was growing hazy. This man was going to stab you, kill you and probably throw your body in the dumpster to rot. You would never see your aunt again. You would never see your dad again. You would never see the hybrid boys again. You would never see Chan again.

This was it for you.

Just when you were about to give up, your assaulter disappears from above you and warm arms are pulling your torso up from the ground. You can faintly hear a faraway voice inside your ear and when you turn your head, through bleary eyes, you recognize the frantic expression of Woojin. You peer behind him to see Minho helping Jisung to his feet, and the weight upon your chest lifts.

Until you see the sight in front of you.

The person who had saved you from your deadly fate was Chan, likely having knocked the man away from you. While that should have alleviated everything, you only grow more sick and anxious. Horrified, you watch the wolf hybrid, throw punch after punch against the man’s face. Each hit landing with a disgusting crack and freeing more blood from his face.

You expected him to stop, but he didn’t. With eyes of hellfire and sharp teeth, he just kept punching the man over and over again. Eventually, you couldn’t watch anymore and hide your face in Woojin’s chest. Memories throw themselves at you like hail from the sky. The closet. Her screams. The blood. His yells.

The bear hybrid shakes his head, “Chan-ah. That’s enough.”

Chan doesn’t hear him, or if he did, he chose not to listen. Just kept throwing one hook after the other.

“Stop it! You’re going to kill him!” Jisung sobs, crying into Minho’s chest. “Hyung, stop!”

“Chan, please.” You cry, unable to stop your own tears from leaving your eyes. Whether it was from the scene you were witnessing, your remembrance, or the heavy pain in your stomach and cheek, you couldn’t tell. “Please, just stop it.”

The hybrid falters at your pleading voice, his arms falling to his sides. With one final growl, he drops the man to the ground, who already passed out from the pain, and turns to face everyone. As hard as you tried to look at him, you couldn’t. You force yourself to at least meet his eyes and whatever anger he had before just completely disappeared.

He rushes forward, holding his arms out. Traumatized and desperate, you cling to Woojin and freely release whatever sobs you were holding back in his chest. Woojin wraps his arms around your body, holding you close, before shaking his head, “Not now, Chan-ah. You’ve done enough.”

“I didn’t-”

“-She’s had enough.” Woojin replies in a strict tone. He slides a hand beneath your knees, picking you up bridal style and cuddling you close to his body. “It’s time to go. Now.”

Chan tries again, “Let me at least-”

“-I said you’ve done enough.”

From your head laid tiredly on Woojin’s shoulder, you can see Chan unmoving in his place from before. His form getting more and more blurry the more Woojin walks away. But no matter how far you go, you can still see the unmistakable pain within his shimmering eyes.

Still, they weren’t enough to distract you from the blood staining his knuckles.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids au #bang chan x reader #bang chan au #stray kids #bang chan #woojin #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #i.n.#kpop fanfic

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zukofenty · 4 years

Text

off the grid

➜ Summary: The one where Katara is a spoiled heiress who manages to crash land on a (cute) soldier of one of the most dangerous nations in the world.

“Get your face out of my vagina!” Katara screams at the top of her lungs.

“Here’s a thought, get your vagina out of my face first!”

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, humor, CEO!Katara, Soldier!Zuko, Crash Landing on You!AU

➜ Words: 10.3k

AO3 @zutaramonth

“Get your face out of my vagina!” Katara screams at the top of her lungs.

“Here’s a thought, get your vagina out of my face first!” Zuko yelps, words gargling. He currently was being suffocated by the crotch at his neck. After Katara’s many screams, and a swift kick to his face, they both scrambled off each other, laying on the ground for a quick moment of relief. Her body is aching after throwing herself from the tree she was stuck in.

After realization set in that he was a soldier who was just nearly crushed to death by a cooch, and she was a woman who somehow crossed impenetrable borders, they swiftly were both upright. Katara in a fighting stance, and Zuko’s gun automatically pointed at the girl’s face. Her eyes nervously darted around, looking for any escape route in the expanse of wilderness and trees and furry animals she sure were foaming at the mouth, looking for a bite of gorgeous heiress who smelled of Chanel No. 5.

“I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me!” Katara screeches, taking off as fast as her Yeezys could take her.

“Um, yeah I can !” He insists, shooting into her general direction. He wasn’t trying to kill her persay. Maybe maim. (It just would’ve been a lot easier if she died).

“Fuck!” he screams, once the girl was out of sight.

Last week, Katara was cyberbullying Debby Ryan from the comfort of her penthouse. One of her larger concerns of the week was debating buying the rights to all of her Disney Channel movies, just because she felt like it. Then, she could post clips of her disturbing, Radio Rebel smile every day on Instagram without copyright claims and she could blissfully ignore Debby Ryan DMing her a defamation lawsuit.

She had money money . Like being able to turn on the AC during the summer type of wealthy. The type of rich that could sing John Lennon’s Imagine during any crisis and say that’s enough activism for today . After all, she was an heiress of one of the richest families in the Water Tribes—a nation at the forefront of nearly every cultural conversation. In the past, every other nation out there doubted their abilities based on size alone, underestimating the tribes’ growing force. Once a nation surviving on simply hope to prosper post 100 Years War, they were now a cultural powerhouse you couldn’t ignore if you tried. From their dramas, skincare routines, and exquisite cuisine (two-headed fish soup and all), the nation was suddenly the talk of the entire world. They thrived under people’s ignorant assumptions. Blossomed despite people’s mistreatment of them in the media. Soon enough, those who questioned their authority were begging for alliances.

Except for the Fire Nation. A nation stuck so determinedly in the past. Notorious for their inability to move on from the world of centuries ago. The world where the Fire Nation was a dominating force. While every nation competed to innovate, the Fire Nation seemingly refused to accept reality. Their borders were violently closed off. Their trade was limited to working with the Earth Nation every once in a blue moon. Refugees who manage to escape tell stories of a cruel life seemingly stuck in the stone ages. Their leader, Azulon, threatens to bomb somewhere, something, someone every other week, and every nation’s relationship with them has remained precariously in the air since then.

“What the actual fuck !” She screeches. “I thought this was one of those national parks joggers find bodies in, not the fucking Fire Nation !”

Dead or alive, people weren’t allowed to make it out of the Fire Nation.

Katara was a stubborn CEO. The kind to only accept things by her way, by her standards. Coming from money didn’t mean shit when you didn’t have the raw hunger she had. She wasn’t like many of her peers. She wasn’t content with just sitting back and signing a few papers once in a while so she could make it to her SoulCycle class. But, she’d like to think that’s what made her so successful for the last decade. Katara was insistent on testing her clothing company’s new batch of athletic clothing. She scaled a mountain range in the sweat resistant hoodie. She swam in Olympic sized pools in their innovative, competition ready swimsuit and swim cap matching set. Of course, it made sense to test their new paragliding uniform. At the time.

“ Don’t move. This field is full of landmines,” Zuko warns, putting out his hand to stop the shaking girl. He sees it in her eyes, the way she’s about to run after he’s managed to catch up to her, and unknowingly blow this entire shit up. “They’re grey and round, or shaped like a box that—”

“Like the one you’re stepping on, right now?” Katara smirks, hands coming to her hips to taunt him.

He freezes, hands coming out to balance himself at the edge of the stream she’s managed to leap across.

“Again, I am a bad bitch. These won’t kill me. You won’t kill me.” She snatches his walkie talkie from his jacket’s pocket, and thinks about just taking it and letting the guy who almost fucking shot her suffer. She decides against it (she didn’t want to get on God’s, or Rihanna’s, bad side today) and sets it down on the ground in front of him. He’s left to watch her expertly leap around a few stray explosives.

“If ‘bad bitch’ means missing a few limbs, sure. Go ahead ,” Zuko baits. She happily gives him the bird, before running as fast as she could in her Yeezy Boost 350s. Running even when she hears gunshots whizzing past her. Running even when she sees a sign, warning about a field of landmines.

She runs until her vision becomes blurry, and all she can hear are little children chanting a song about the Fire Nation’s greatness. She runs, even when her body feels like lead, and her eyes are a hair’s breadth away from shutting.

He doesn’t know why he helps her. Why he wants her to get out of here alive. Why he scoops her up once soldiers began flooding the village she stumbled upon. They were making sure everyone was doing their part in singing the national anthem before the enforced curfew. She should’ve been shot to death by now by his men, or at least mauled by a wild lion vulture.

He just doesn’t understand it. Their forces were meant to kill , trained to shoot anything at the border on sight. He doesn’t understand how this five foot nothing girl had outrun men who have trained in the military for nearly their whole lives. His army was sloppy that day. Most of them were still drunk off of whatever cactus juice and homemade wine combination the ladies at the local village had offered to them. Then again, it wasn’t every day someone decided to paraglide during the biggest storm of the decade. It wasn’t every day someone managed to cross into the Fire Nation, when no one wanted to be there for decades .

He doesn’t understand why he pulled her close to his body at the sight of the military’s trucks, and runs them into his house at the edge of the hill. He doesn’t understand why he spent the last three hours painstakingly cooking up noodles from scratch for her. She takes a quick nap on an old sleeping mat he found while he works diligently. His stomach protests the fragrant aroma. He hasn’t eaten a homemade meal in months.

“People literally steal and sell my pubic hairs on eBay. The average price is one grand for a single strand. I deserve better,” Katara says. He thinks it’s completely in jest. She cackles when he glares at her. The smile she sends him tries to relay that she's grateful, but he’s hardly swayed by her charms. Instead, he’s scoffing at the efforts.

A first for her.

She’s used to getting her way, as an expert at manipulation. When you’ve spent your whole life ruthlessly competing to run one of the largest corporations in the world, you couldn’t afford to be sweet or gentle or genuine. You learned to work people, bend them to your will until they snap. Then, you move on. Find someone else, do the old song and dance again.

Before she could even lift a chopstick, Zuko quickly grabs the bowl from her grasp, a pout forming on his lips. While he was always taught to school his features, he always knew he was no good at it.

“I will continue to do what I’ve been doing for the last two hours, and just ignore everything you’ve been saying,” he mutters, sipping at the broth to her dismay. The second she walked in, she called his house “a hut with a dick in it.” When he instructed her to take a shit in the outhouse, she didn't speak to him for the next hour. He thinks he saw her tear up when he mentioned there was no Internet. He swears he was ten seconds away from busting a vein.

“ Ugh . Room temperature water?” Zuko guffaws once her nose crinkles up in disgust.

He blows a stray strand of his hair away from his face. “There are no ice cubes.” She hates how everything he says is so matter of fact.

“Get some, then.” she says, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. “I don’t drink ice cube-less water.”

He just laughs. “Right, when we get any sort of electricity first, I’ll make it my number one priority to get a fridge that dispenses ice cubes engraved with your perfectly detailed portrait on them, too.”

Katara shoves at him, and he just stares at the spot on his chest she touched. “For future reference, I am vegan. Well, vegan adjacent. But still. The point is I am a delicate flower with an even more delicate diet. A delicate flower that’s used to caviar and organic shit and the rich people gluten-free bread you get from Trader Joe’s. So I’ll excuse it this time, but the next time you make something please remember.” She follows up the command with a sweet smile, as though it made up for her demands.

The memory of her dodging bullets with a branch in her hair easily comes up in his mind. “Nothing about you is delicate.” Zuko barely budges when she tries reaching for the bowl again.

Katara gasps. “Even my bowel movements are delicate!”

He just snorts.

She’s annoying, he decides. All brattiness considered. Even with her tiny frame drowning in her dirty paragliding uniform, and a pout that has him wanting to laugh. The way she moves is dainty, with the self-assurance only those who grew up in comfort have. But, something about her eyes reveal something crueler, something so much more vicious underneath the soft exterior.

He was thoroughly out of options. While he has her holed up in his house until they decide an escape route, he feels his stomach churning at the thought of the Fire Nation’s regular surprise house inspections. Turning her over to the government meant a quick and easy execution for him and his men without question, and the potential to cause even more political strain with the rest of the world. Even if they do hand her to the government, there’s no telling what they would do to her.

He tries to blink the sleep out of his eyes, rubbing at them as thought it could end the nightmare he found himself trapped in.

For the last few years, Zuko’s life was a monotonous routine.

“Type 63 Rifle, Soviet SKS carbine,” Zuko breathes, ears perking up at the sound of the weapon. His hand comes out to halt the hordes of men. “One of us. Retreat,” he barked, arms motioning for his battalion to return to their hidden positions among the dwindling flora and fauna. Months in his uniform without rest, months spent guarding the border to ensure no one left.

He doesn’t remember much about his life before this. He tries to forget, because it made him too sad. It made him want to do something reckless, to break something, to even cry , because he’s long forgotten anything but getting up, getting into uniform, getting into routine.

It was his duty, as the only son of the Fire Nation’s notorious military director.

He was trained to be a war wielding machine. To show no mercy. Men in the Fire Nation weren’t meant to be weak . They weren’t allowed to be soft.

His mother tried to get away from all of it. She tried as hard as she could to tell her children there was a life you could feel beat with all of your heart, as long as cruelty didn’t find it first. She knew Zuko wasn’t meant for this life.

Zuko knew, too.

He was never good at anything, never the best one growing up. While he excelled at delivering blows, or wielding his swords, he was always told his mind was a pathetic thing. Too brash, too naive. Azula was always the better one at that. At violence. She was their father’s right hand, her thoughts filled to the brim with genius strategy. Always one step ahead of everyone else, even as a toddler.

Zuko was content to be in the background, to be nothing more than a decoration when the family portrait needed to be taken. He wants to be selfish, to blame Azula for pressing pause on his life. The day she was assassinated was the day his dreams of forgetting the Fire Nation all but shriveled up. After all, tradition mandated the military director had a blood successor.

“I am not going to put back on my dirty underwear after I shower! I am not a Bhad Bhabie type of bitch,” Katara indignantly spits out, crossing her arms over her chest.

Zuko rolls his eyes. Everything she says is confusing .

“Don’t act up while I’m gone,” Zuko begs.

“Like the City Girls?”

She feels her blood boil at his silence.

“Please tell me you’re lying. Please tell me you’ve heard of ‘Act Up.’ Please. Don’t let me down now.”

“I have no—”

“Seriously, where were you all summer? ‘Act up, you can get snatched up?’ Nothing? Nothing rings a fucking bell?” He can’t help but sweat.

Even when he looked up whatever she says on his work computer (the only time people in the Fire Nation were allowed to use the Internet) he still can’t wrap his head around what exactly a Bhad Bhabie was.

“Then don’t wear underwear. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

She holds the landline phone close to her mouth, as if to make the message clearer. “Where will the pussy juices go then!”

Zuko hangs up on her, only to have her call him precisely 12 minutes later.

“My right nipple is chafing. What about my nipple eczema!” She protests. She feels her face shriveling up. Without her Yves Saint Laurent Firming Serum, she feels like a piece of her identity was missing. He had diligently informed her to use his sole bar of soap for all purposes before he left for work, and she nearly fainted on the spot.

“Tell it to go away, I guess?” Zuko suggests, trying his hardest to sound helpful. He tried leaving detailed notes on how to take a hot bath by pouring boiling water in his basin, and clipping the plastic shower curtain to the ceiling, trapping the heat in. He prays she hasn’t burned down his house, or someone hasn’t seen her through the gate.

“I can’t!” Katara seethes.

Zuko rubs at his temples. “This was meant for only emergencies. Goodbye !” Zuko slams the phone, returning to his paperwork. He feels a hot blush spreading across his cheeks, and tries to bring his hand up to his face to alleviate the warm feeling.

She doesn’t know why he’s so nice to her.

When she’s all but threatened him and blackmailed his entire crew to keep their silence and help her escape.

She simply laughs, the sound foreign to even her own ears. Her empty stomach painfully clenched in protest at the sudden sensation. It had to be some sort of sick joke. A sick fucking joke probably crafted up by Pakku! Or some of those man-children from the Northern Tribes who think they know a thing or two because they took a Marketing 101 crash course on Khan Academy!

She needed to get back for the big shareholders meeting. They were going to announce the new CEO of Moon Tech, the largest corporation in the Water Tribes. It was everything she had been working for her entire life. She couldn’t afford to miss it, lest it show any weakness whatsoever. As the most viable successor, she was sure all eyes were watching her every move. Yet, somehow, she managed to end up on the set of a period piece gone wrong. A miserable, yet probably Academy Award winning, period piece that smelled like moose knuckle pussy pickle.

She looked to the closed door, the flimsy thing separating the minute living room from his even smaller bedroom. She felt guilty for misjudging him upon their first meeting.

She thinks she feels more guilty for breaking his favorite vase.

“C’mon! That was my favorite ficus,” he grumbles, rubbing the spot on his head she broke the vase on. He avoids her gaze because she’s clad in one of his old dress shirts and nothing else, the thing coming to fall at her knees. If he blushes any harder, he thinks she might notice. Her hair is wrapped up in a messy updo and her face is scrubbed clean. The faintest tint of pink dusts across her cheeks.

“Sorry,” she whispers, hand coming to rub at the spot. She was nervous hearing someone wiggle the doorknob when he hadn’t come back well into the night. Why he had three locks on his door and used exactly none of them, she wasn’t quite sure. She thought she was being helpful by locking his doors. Until it was becoming apparent he didn’t care enough to carry his keys with him, and had an additional unlocked back door he was just attacked at.

He swats her away swiftly, body mechanically programmed to attack for coming so close to him. He’s body slammed bigger men for breathing through their mouths. But something stops him abruptly, and he stills when she comes closer, roughly grabbing at his head between her two hands, and bringing it to her eye level. “A slight bump will form, but it’ll go away faster if you soak some rice and press here,” she precisely finds the swelling area. He winces when he feels the pressure.

Her eyes are impossibly wide while she watches him, and he can’t help but shrink at her careful stare. This was the quietest she’s been since she crash landed. He feels unsettled. “I—I got you some stuff.” He places the bag gently in front of her, a now familiar flush coming to pepper his cheeks. “I’m going to go to bed now,” he lies, retreating to his room while still rubbing at his head.

“Thanks,” her voice is barely a whisper, and stops him in his tracks. He turns to her, and her smile is so genuine. Her eyes are swelling with joy and it makes his heart ache. It seemed easier to talk to her that night than in the day. There wasn’t an impossible front to break open to see how she was feeling, the moonlight peeking through the cracks in the wall seemed to make her eyes wider, smile brighter even. Her guard is down and it makes emotions easier to decipher.

She thinks she can’t feel her face when she opens the bag. “I’m such a bitch,” she babbles to herself as she opens the boxes of shampoo, conditioner, and even signature Water Tribe moisturizers. Everything she complained about he managed to remember to a T. He even got her some traditional Fire Nation women’s outfits, even when she was only staying for the next couple of days. The tears pricking at her eyes feel foreign. She could afford private jets to fly to Beverly Hills and start a fist fight with Kim Kardashian just because she hit Kourtney in season 18. A couple dollars worth of smuggled products shouldn’t make her a weepy mess. Somehow though, she feels herself unable to dim the smile plastered across her face.

Zuko wants to jump for joy. Though, he resists the urge when getting up too fast makes his head bump feel like it has a second heartbeat. He spent the better part of his evening at the open air marketplace a few blocks from the village. It was worth enduring the questioning glances from the shop vendors. Even when he felt like crawling in a hole and dying as he hastily gestured he wanted to purchase women’s underwear, it was all worth it when he’s lulled to sleep to the sound of Katara’s giggles.

“I think he just smiled.” Mako whisper-screams. Nearly all the jaws in the mess hall drop open.

“You’re lying ,” a voice squeaks out. The dozens of heads seem to collectively turn towards their captain. Their stomachs churned at seeing living proof of the small smirk on his face. He’s distracted. Staring off into the distance, he’s just picking at the meager helpings of his lunch on his plate.

For all intents and purposes, Zuko was boring . He was a stick in the mud, the kind of guy you saw laugh once or twice a year for obligatory purposes, just to make sure everyone knew he wasn’t a robot assigned by the government to spy on soldiers.

He was a captain who delivered orders, and nothing more. A strict, by the book kind of guy. The team knew little to nothing about him. They weren’t even sure he used the bathroom like a normal human being (half of them were betting money on the robot theory). They just weren’t close like that. They weren’t the type of team to be able to joke around with their captain, share their stories, bleed their heart out on the military field. They knew the scar on his face meant he had pissed off some higher ranking officials who still possessed the power to firebend, a sacred art limited to the few. It meant there was more to the story than just a bumbling captain of a lower ranked crew. The most they got out of him was once in a while he would startle a young kid, who was just trying to get his mandated service over with. He’d clap them on the shoulder and would murmur a low “Good job.” (His definition of keeping up team morale).

He was efficient at his job, and good at keeping his men safe, rarely raising his voice to anyone except maybe himself. More than what they could say for other captains. He was hard on his men, but harder on himself. It was rare to see him doing anything but stress .

Smiling ? Simply out of the question.

He couldn’t help it! It was an automatic reaction to the morning he had.

“Thank you, for everything,” Katara says quietly, placing the tray of food on his night stand. She knew he had to get to the military base in the wee hours of the morning, and also knew she wasn’t going to wake up in time without her vibrating mattress alarm clock. So she pulls an all nighter, and tries to figure out how to use the tools and contraptions at her disposal. She didn’t mean to startle him, she swears. She has to stifle a laugh when he wakes up with a start. Eyes slowly peeling open, the eye crust obstructing his view. His hair is facing every which way. He looks younger, somehow. The messy hair, the wrinkled shirt, and drool he makes a quick job of wiping away.

“What’s this?” He peers up at her curiously, placing the tray in his lap.

“My labor of love.” She insists, sitting even closer to him on his bed. She thinks she likes it when he squirms under her gaze. For all the military get up with metallic shoulders, and the endless medals pinned to his uniforms, he was just a boy under it all. “I know, I haven’t been the most...easy guest to have.” She ignores his snort. “After all of this over, after the Fire Nation opens up its borders again, I promise you. I will pay you ten times what this hut with a dick is worth. Because…” she breathes in, looking unsure of herself. “I’ll never forget your kindness.”

“T—Thank you,” he stutters. He thinks they’re empty promises, but doesn’t try to question them too hard. It shouldn’t be possible for his heart to pulse as fast as it does, but it seems to be mesmerized by how much wider her smile was able to get. The noodles are misshapen, probably because of her inexperience with the old-fashioned machine. The broth is salty and makes Zuko’s throat beg for a glass of water. And yet, he slurps up the entire dish without complaint.

Anything to see her eyes light up.

“The first boob I ever saw was in Titanic . Haven’t seen one since. Waiting for Titanic 2 to come out.” Mako says proudly, puffing out his chest. He hoped his extensive knowledge of non-Fire Nation films would entertain Katara. Zuko’s few trusted men (mainly the ones who were responsible for letting her escape in the first place) were instructed to keep her safe while he sorted out the plans for her escape. Iroh was able to set up a clandestine arrangement with a ship leaving the Fire Nation docks for their semi annual pickup of Earth Nation goods. They were hoping she could sneak through to the Earth Nation, and explain her situation with customs there.

“Buddy, I got some news for you.” Katara smirks, and the boys grow nervous. She was pretty. The type of pretty that made people stare, wondering if it was possible for someone’s eyes to twinkle in the sunlight. She looked like one of those celebrities in the movies he loved. Talked like one, too. In the Fire Nation, she was the type of pretty where guys would be bartering an entire village just to get a chance to look at her. Though, just from talking with her, she seemed like the type of girl who would hide in her house after gaining said village, just to spite them.

Mako was curious about the Water Nation. Their schools taught them that Azulon was an elite magical creature that somehow never needed to take a shit, and people in the other nations defecated three times the amount of Fire Nation folk. He always knew something was up. Everyone was constantly smuggling goods from all the other nations, especially from the Water Nation. There were automatic rice cookers that played a song when it finished making perfect rice, and little boxes that could play music when you press it. Mako always knew there was so much more out there than people in the Fire Nation could ever know.

She tells them stories of her life in the Water Tribes as they wait for Zuko, and she pointedly ignores the scoffs and disbelief. “There are toilets that shoot out water into your ass crack to clean it?”

“You can adjust the settings and everything!” She proclaims, pride filling every one of her words. “Warm, cool, even inconsistent spurts if you’re into that shit.”

They all make a noise of amazement. “That’s incredible .” She talks about sky rises, and business meetings with rich people, and showers that turn on with a drop of a hat.

“What’s a Rihanna again? Is that your God?”

“Yes.” Katara answers, with no hesitation. “See, she is the baddest in the land—”

“Wait!” Bolin abruptly stops her. “I thought that was your God...Megan Thee Stallion?”

“She’s the thiccest of them all.” Katara punctuated with a click of her tongue. “I thought we went over this!”

“Sorry,” they grunt, looking especially sheepish.

“What does she preach?” Kai inquires, eyes growing wide with delight.

Katara taps her lip, eyes coming up to the ceiling trying to concentrate. “She’s a goddess who empowers women! She tries to get everyone to build their knee strength. I think one of her sayings is ‘I need a Mr. Clean, make that pussy beam,’” Katara .

Zuko watches on, leaning on the door frame. He wants to hate the fact that he’ll miss her.

Everything was supposed to be easy at this point.

“Don’t forget about me.” She holds onto his arm as they sit against the edge of the fishing vessel, the waves impatiently slapping against them. He was supposed to bid her farewell at the dock, but something in him wanted to guarantee she was able to get on the second boat to the Earth Nation.

He’s still clad in one of his more formal uniforms. He still feels the chill of the night scraping through the fabric of his double breasted blazer.

Katara openly welcomes the cold, after nearly sweltering to death every second she’s been in the Fire Nation.

He lets his smile reach his eyes. “How could I forget a girl who nearly crushed me to death with her crotch.”

Her guffaw has the captain, Jeong Jeong, even startled. “Right.” She looks off into the distance, and can’t remember a time when she’s ever been surrounded by this much water. “My name’s Katara, by the way.”

Zuko feels a pang in his chest. “Zuko.”

“Nice to meet you, Zuko,” she whispers, holding her hand out to shake his. It feels warm when he grabs at the dainty thing.

“I hope we meet again. Maybe, in another life, Katara.”

“Really?” For a moment, he hears a twinge of sadness in her voice. It could be his mind or his heart making it up, but he swears he hears it.

“Really.”

Everything was going according to plan. Everything was supposed to go smoothly.

Until they’re both panic-sweating underneath the ship in its cargo hold, trying to come up with a plan to fend off the Coast Guard officers stopping all ships sailing past curfew.

“Do something! Doesn’t the military tell you to do something in this case? Or are you guys just trained in the art of being ugly and having anger issues?”

Zuko wracks his brain. “Why don’t you help me?”

“What happens if I don’t?” Katara angrily mutters.

“You’ll deal with the consequences,” Zuko shrugs, too entirely calm. He was a natural in intense situations, but even he could feel his hands shaking.

“That’s just diet ‘ I hope this bitch dies !’”

“Oops,” Zuko sneers.

Katara huffs. “The fact that men can breathe just doesn’t sit right with my soul.” Katara wants to strangle him.

A lightbulb seemingly goes off in his head. Something Mako said about the non-Fire Nation films and stories was always a fool proof “Get out of jail” card.

“Kiss me,” he says without any uncertainty.

“Are you huffing cactus juice, bitch?”

“Just do it!” Zuko practically screams when he hears the door opening. She presses her lips to his chapped ones, and his hands naturally come to her waist. He’s lost in the feeling of her plush lips, how incredibly soft her body was that he ignores the screams of Coast Guard officers.

“What the fuck was that!” They question Jeong Jeong, who simply shrugs. The officers promptly drop the cargo door in shock.

She slaps his face, his cheek already reddening in mere moments.

“What was that for?” Zuko grumbles, stroking his face.

“You’re a freak!”

He narrows his eyes. “I prefer a ‘you’re welcome,’ but that doesn’t seem to be in your vocabulary.” He felt like his entire body was tingling, but Katara could only focus on the fact he was swiping at his lips with the back of his hand.

“Hey! You should be thanking Rihanna you got a chance to kiss me! If you weren’t so colonized you would realize I am one of the most beautiful women in the world!” Katara petulantly reminds.

“I think it’s because you got diarrhea all over my one of my favorite t-shirts that I am doubting that claim.”

Katara sulks, confident form shrinking. “I forgot to boil the water one time, sue me.”

He can’t stop his laugh from taking over his whole body. He’s about to help her up when he hears, “Open it up again!”

This time, Katara fully pushes him down among the boxes of cargo, straddling his lap, and violently mashes her lips to his.

“Get the fuck up here!” Someone screams. Katara lets up on the kiss so Zuko could peer up at the officers. He feels his ears overheating.

“She’s my fiancé.” He hastily explains, once they were on deck. In between their masks, they stare down at Katara, who bites on her tongue, and puts up an act of a bashful bride-to-be. She holds onto his arm with a vice grip, ducking her head behind his broad shoulders.

“They were going on a romantic sight seeing trip,” Jeong Jeong provides, sweat beating down his back.

Katara nods enthusiastically. “We just couldn’t wait for the wedding to have a little fun .” She grins intenerally at their coughs of discomfort and Zuko’s bewildered gaze.

They check Zuko’s identification card, before nodding in understanding.

“Fine,” one officer bites out. He stares at Katara for a beat too long as though he’s reading her thoughts. It makes her uneasy. “Turn it back, and don’t come out past curfew anymore. They’ve implemented new standards for ships.” Jeong Jeong nods in understanding, and jumps to the helm in no time. But, Zuko could sense the panic vibrating off of Katara.

She turns to see the second ship waiting in the distance, her ticket to freedom a few feet away.

“We’re not done with date night!” She insists, coming out to try to stop the officer. Zuko holds her back, eyes pleading with her. “But—I—there has to be some other way.” She’s shaking like a leaf, even when Zuko throws his blazer over her bare shoulders.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be stuck feeding him heartburn medication like they are tic tacs,” Katara says to no one. She’s pacing nervously around the living room, and Zuko’s trying his best to come up with something to comfort her. His head is in his hands, and he’s since loosened his top knot to let his hair fall.

“Katara, I am only two years older than you,” he gently reminds.

“...And then I heard dentures always smell no matter how hard you clean them.”

“Katara I swear—,”

She gasps. “Oh my god, we have to start thinking of retirement homes.”

Things were supposed to be easy.

A spontaneous house check was something the village’s residents were accustomed to. They gathered outside their homes as soldiers began rifling through their things. Parents simply stood about, discussing the new books they had to buy for their kids for the upcoming semester.

Nothing was entirely out of the blue. Yet, the elusive military captain just had to show up to the front of his house, hand in hand with a blue-eyed girl.

A gun was promptly pointed in her face. “Oh shit. Bitch, not this again.”

“This house was registered for one resident.” General Zhao’s lip curls. “State your name and occupation.”

General Zhao had overheard a certain military director’s son was busted trying to get some punani on the seven seas.

It’s not that he hated Zuko, per say. Their relationship was more of a “ regularly abusing Zuko’s privacy to fulfill a personal agenda because of the bloodthirsty desire for power ” type of thing. Normal things. Maybe , it was influenced by the fact he got wind of Zuko pressuring his higher ups to further investigate his sister’s assasination. He wasn’t entirely sure.

“Look here, I have information that could lead to the arrest of Nicki Minaj. So why don’t you, I don’t know. Let me go ! I promise I’ll tell you everything I know about Ms. Nincki,” she lowly breathes, a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows only making the soldiers around her even more heated.

“Shut the fuck up!” A soldier screams behind her, poking her head with the gun. Katara couldn’t help the whimper that passed her lips. For the first time in her life, she thinks she feels genuine fear.

Zuko pushes past the guards holding him back, throwing them to the ground. Without missing a beat, he takes her hand in his. “Get your fucking gun out of my fiancé’s face!” He roars. Gasps reverberate around the villagers. This was the loudest and longest they’ve ever heard Zuko speak. “She works for the government as part of Division 11,” he explains, letting his voice settle into its usual rasp. Everybody visibly recoils.

A highly secretive sector of the government virtually no one , not even General Zhao had access to. They were agents deployed in different nations, with the goal of collecting information about the culture. It would’ve explained Katara’s Water Tribe accent, and the lack of her identification papers.

General Zhao pushes past Zuko, staring him down and grumbling with his men following behind.

The women of the village instantly make way to collect around Katara. Noses turned up at her like she was shit on a brick. No, they couldn’t give a shit about her. They had rushed into their houses after the announcement, and came back to ply Zuko with trays of food.

“For our handsome Zuko finally getting hitched!” The fake smiles make Katara want to stab herself. She swiftly reaches for Zuko’s hand, much to his confusion, and lays her head on his shoulder.

“Baby, let’s go inside. I’m cold,” she feigns through her teeth. Her puppy dog eyes make him feel like he’s in high school. He numbly nods.

She thinks she hears someone’s grandma calling her a slut.

“Pick your head up king, your hairline is receding,” Katara worries her lip at seeing his current state. She doesn’t think he’s slept all night, and he has papers and maps with highlighter marks and red circles all around him on his bed.

It’s been a few days since his big announcement to the village, and it feels better to be able to get outside. Breathe from the confines from Zuko’s dingy house. Even among the whispers and stares from people, the villagers weren’t all bad. The women sometimes drop by to invite her over to cook with them, and the kids bring her only the nicer rocks they’ve managed to dig through the dirt for.

“I just want to get you home.” He practically grunts. She’s holding a cup of tea for him, and he gulps it down as if it was Rihanna’s boob sweat. “I don’t want you to stay here for even a second longer.”

“Thanks!” Katara sends him a sardonic smile.

Fuck . He always knew how to put his foot in his mouth when he’s around her. “No, uh. Not like that. This place is a hell hole, and I just want you to get back. It’s not safe for you, for anyone here.” She pats his back gently when he starts choking on the tea, trying to get all his words out. He’s so sweet, the way he just quietly tries to draft out a plan while he thinks she’s asleep. She hears him curse whenever a pen snaps with the pressure he applies. With how many times he sighs through the night, she feels guilty.

She’s entirely too comfortable around Zuko, he decides. She lays in bed next to him and he hopes she doesn't notice the way he’s grown warm with her presence. He craves it too much these days. “You know what, the one thing I’ve learned through all of this is that the first thing I’m going to do when I come back is shutting down Chrissy Teigen’s Twitter.”

“Not visit your friends and family?” Zuko asks, amusement dancing across his features.

“That can come second,” Katara asserts.

Life wasn’t completely terrible. Sure, she cries the moment Zuko leaves the house because she’s sure she’s going to die in this shit fuck of place and never get to her money’s worth of her one year HelloFresh subscription. But she has complete faith in Zuko’s abilities.

“It’s like during The Amazing Race Season 17 when those two vegetarian doctors ate a goat’s head to win. I think their names were Kat and Nat.”

“The point?” Zuko tries his best to sound exasperated.

“The point is, I’ll learn how to adapt for the next week or so. I promise, it’s not all that terrible!” Zuko doesn’t trust her uneasy, twitching eyes, but nods all the same.

“Hold my hand, motherfucker!” She beams under the attention of the villagers, most of them scoffing when she does her daily send off routine. When Zuko leaves for work, she is insistent on performing their cute couple duties to piss off old people (her other favorite pastime). “Did you remember to bring your water bottle today, stupid bitch?”

“I think I’d like this more if you asked nicely,” he groused. He likes how small her hand fits in his, but he thinks he’ll boil shoelaces and eat them before he would admit it.

She’s made one friend, at least. Ty Lee, a girl whose parents are trying to marry her off by the next summer. The older women side eyed her just the same, thinking her big ole titties were too big of a distraction among the eligible men in the village.

“It came as a shock to us, we still think Zuko is a robot,” Ty Lee admits over a bowl of beef stew. Katara nearly chokes at the spice level. “It’s too bad you’re marrying a lower ranked officer. I know this guy who’s way up there! You could do so much better . I think his name’s Chan!”

“So, Zuko’s basically a nobody here?”

“Pretty much,” the girl states it like it’s a known fact. “He doesn’t do much, to be honest. But he’s all the old ladies’ favorites because he’s cute and moody . Fuck that, give me communication , you know what I mean?”

Katara could already feel the cogs whirring to life in her brain. “Thanks for letting me know, Ty Lee!” Her chirpy tone has the girl smiling as well. Good, her acting skills haven’t gone rusty. “How come when Zuko makes beef stew, it’s never spicy?” She wipes her nose with a napkin Ty Lee had given her after noticing the impending waterfall of snot.

Ty Lee ponders it for a second. “Sorry, babe. This is the most mild recipe you can make in the Fire Nation. I didn’t realize you couldn't handle it. Maybe he’s just remixing a classic?”

Katara tries to hold back her smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Babies are broke,” Katara glares at the child in her lap, who only curls in closer to her.

“Oh my god.” Zuko lets the little boy play with his hair when he wasn’t suffocating Katara’s neck with his other arm.

“They live in your head and your house rent free. And then they have the audacity to stare at you in their weak ass outfits,” she points out. They’re both squeezed together on a sofa barely holding itself together, and forced to watch over the birthday boy.

“Don’t be mad. It’s entirely your fault Chungha’s kid laughed so hard it barfed on you.”

Katara’s exhausted laugh makes Zuko forget his tiredness all the same. “Don’t call the baby an ‘it!’”

Zuko lets the kid bite on his finger, and grabs him from Katara’s hands when he begins tugging on her dress straps. “I still can’t believe you taught Chungha’s daughter to ‘not be the bigger person, and punch a bitch!’ And Chungha still invited you to her son’s party.”

“Talk shit, get hit. Basic stuff.”

He had to admit, coming home and immediately being dragged to a baby’s birthday celebration was not how he saw his night going. Especially after hours of grueling paperwork.

“He’s two ,” Zuko lets out an annoyed huff.

“And what about it, bitch?” Katara growls. She has her hair in a complicated updo, complete with the Fire Nation hair ties he recently picked up for her.

He tries to hide the fact he enjoys this far too much. Domestic things. Things like coming home from work to banter with her. Cooking for Katara while she’s busy socializing with the older wives. He heard from Mako that Katara spends most of her day with the married women. Her plan was to try to move him up the ranks of the military ladder by getting to the lieutenant’s wives first.

When she’s home and finished washing up, she takes his dress shirts as though they were her’s and wears them to bed. After she’s passed out on the sleeping mat in the living room, he makes it a habit to carry her to the mattress in his room.

“My bad back likes the hard floor,” he would insist when she would protest.

He thinks he’s a goner when she even starts trying to make Fire Nation snacks for his lunches. He packs them himself, but somehow misses the minute containers that make their way into his pail. Even if the container somehow always breaks because she forgets to close it properly and he ends the day smelling like fish sauce, he likes it.

He knows he must be fucking crazy, pretending this was all real. Maybe he was delusional and reading too much into her actions. Maybe he was a fucking idiot. But for a moment, it was easy to pretend he’s a few months away from marrying a pretty girl. A pretty girl busy spending the night playing around with babies they could one day have together.

He shakes the thought from his head, physically moving his head to make it permeate even deeper. She was going to be back home, safe and sound soon. It was better not to get attached.

She makes it so fucking hard, though. Especially when she’s wiping away at the creases in his brow before bed. Or asking him through the closed bedroom door to tell her it’s going to be ok, to talk to her until she falls asleep because she likes the sound of his voice.

She’s a stone cold bitch. A bitch that could fight with her Swarovski crystal acrylics, and come out virtually unscathed. Someone needs to explain to her exactly why she was crying like a James Charles fake apology video for being a racist at the sight of Chungha’s kid bouncing about, flinging his boogers in her face.

“Maybe if I pray to Azulon hard enough, you guys could have your own little bundle of joy soon!” Chungha exclaims, holding the baby as tight as she could.

After all, when you almost lose a kid, every moment you’re blessed with their breath never feels like enough. You never want to spend another moment away from them. It’s a miracle his fever broke in time for his birthday. Their family couldn’t afford to go to the doctor, with hospitals being a four hour bike ride away.

“Yeah, sure.” Katara barely could hear her over Yoonjn’s gleeful squeals.

“I’ll tell Bomi to pray for you guys, too. After what Azulon did for her little Sana, you’ll be pregnant in no time!”

Katara just squeezes at the baby’s chubby cheek.

“You’re going to kill yourself.” Katara flinches at Zuko’s voice piercing through the quiet night. He’s leaning up against the wall, and emerges from the shadows because he’s dramatic and needed the added effect. She doesn’t miss the way he limps while clutching his side.

“Shut up .” She throws her straw hat at the ground, and flings herself across the sleeping mat, face down. “I’ve had a long night.”

He wants to be angry with her. He wants to scream at her. He was livid .

“What if you got caught, huh? You could’ve been executed .” Zuko knew it wasn’t a coincidence. That the rumors of a spirit going around healing people in the village coincided with someone’s sudden appearance. He thinks the sight of Katara effortlessly waterbending is permanently etched into his memory. The way her face was blissed out, the element easily submitting to her every will.

Katara knows he’s just worried for her. She knows the occasional rustle of the branches was more than a breeze. But, all she sees is red. “Sounds rich, coming from you ! What’s your name again? Sorry, my bad. I didn’t know ‘The Blue Spirit’ was a silent vowel in the name ‘Zuko!’”

He waits a beat, before turning to face her. She has his mask in hand, an angry glare screwing her features.

“How did you—who did—?” His brain was apparently as smooth as Howie Mandel’s head when he needed its help the most. At least he knows where his mask went.

“My mind is as strong as the Twitter men trying to get Doja Cat to show us her titties.” She rolls her eyes when she sees Zuko pondering. “You leave your Dao swords on display in the living room, and the mask is underneath your bed. I don’t know, let me ask the audience.”

“Oh.”

Katara flicks his forehead.

“At least I’m not walking around with some face paint thinking I’m helping these people!”

She scoffs. “But I am! They’re too sick to afford medication. To even go to the hospital. If they make it, no one wants to help them! You’re telling me I have to just watch them die!”

Zuko sighs. “You’re giving them hope !”

“In this dumpster fire of a place, yeah! I fucking am! What’s wrong with that? Tell me!” She challenges. She comes up nose to nose with Zuko, eyes darting and impatiently waiting for an answer.

“What are these people going to do when you’re gone?” What am I going to do when you’re gone? “They think the Painted Lady is real !”

“Let them!” She huffs. “What about you, huh? Going around stealing from the rich to bring back to the villagers? You think you’re any better? You’re going to get killed!”

Zuko scoffs. “You’re missing the point. The difference between you and me? I’m perfectly fine with dying.”

Katara grabs his face in between her hands, anger vanishing. “Zuko, don’t say that.”

“Why the fuck not? Maybe I want to fucking die!” He shouts, ripping his head out of her grasp. “Maybe I’m hoping to get caught!”

“...Why?” Katara croaks.

“ You don’t get it !” He screams. Time seemed to stop when tears fell from Zuko’s eyes. Even when he’s angry, he’s never been this loud with Katara before. He wants to take it all back, stop himself.

She’s at a loss for words. “Zuko, I—”

“This place is a fucking dead end. No one’s going to save us. The Fire Nation doesn’t care about us. The Fire Nation could give less of a fuck. You can’t let people think there’s hope when it’s all a fucking lie !” He laughs, the bitter sound foreign to her. “You know, it’s normal to pray for an early death here. You pray that it’s painless. It’s easier to die than live every day trapped in this reality.”

He loses his grip on the countertop he was leaning on for support. Katara moves to catch him before he falls, and lays him as gently as possible on top of the mat. She makes quick work to heal the gash at his side. A result of following her during her rounds, and fighting off any robbers trying their luck in the night.

“I thought you were the Kris Jenner of the Southern Water Tribe?” He squeezes out, trying to get her to laugh. She’s touched he remembered her Kardashian-Jenner clan rants. (He’s been Team Stormi since day one.) Then again, he seems to remember every little detail about her. “A businesswoman, right? Didn’t know you were a master waterbender on top of all of that.”

She snorts, and wipes away her own tears before he could open his eyes again. “I was a paramedic. I wanted to run a clinic at one point.” Zuko winces at the intensity of the water cooling his wound. “Growing up, I hated the business world. It was all backstabbing and boring bitches. But sometimes, it’s easier.” She’s silent for a while, focused only on the healing process.

“I—I couldn’t save a lot of people,” her voice drops down to a barely audible whisper, and her brows furrow.

They’re shoulder to shoulder on the mat after she wraps up his cut. They’re staring up at the cracks of his ceiling.

“Do you ever miss it?” Zuko rasps.

“Bending?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes.” She lets silence fill the air for a moment. “ It’s second nature to me. Fuck, I was bending before I could even talk. Is it bad that I gave up on it? Is it bad it makes me sick to my stomach?”

Something she loved, she couldn’t stand to do again.

She couldn’t save her mom. She couldn’t save her niece. What was the point anymore?

He wraps his hand around hers.

“What do you think we would have been like, in another life?” Zuko groans, laying down beside Katara. She’s sprawled out, still taking in heavy breaths after breaking into an intense run. His side still aches. He thinks his arm is broken from fighting off the soldiers while carrying the dozens of survivors.

The captain in a nearby village was sentenced to a public execution later in the week. He wanted to go out on his own terms and take his village with him, too. Trying to sacrifice people to the Gods above for forgiveness, he set the place ablaze.

It’s too bad The Painted Lady got wind of it first.

“Hm?” Katara hums, healing a cut on her face. “I’d like to think Katara in another life got to be normal. Like just owning a Chevy and living life without ever having to acknowledge Timothee Chalamat’s existence type of normal. She’s happy. She doesn’t develop an addiction to Prozac. She probably has a small white dog named Mochi that can fit into a knock-off Fendi purse.”

“Really? No butt-warming toilets in her life?”

“Nah. She could be the Mayor of Boo Boo the Foolville without any consequences.” She can’t recall a time when she’s felt so free. When her words flow out without carefully being measured. The stars feel like daylight. The expanses of the village’s nearby river tugging at her heart strings. “She could bend without constantly thinking of what could’ve been.”

“Zuko in another life would’ve been a piano player.” It still stings. Thinking about the future that could’ve been.

“Not a full time Blue Spirit?” She teases.

“Full time Blue Spirit doesn’t pay the bills, surprisingly.”

He turns his head and sees her nose crinkle. He’s sure it should be illegal for someone to be this beautiful.

“This kid I healed, he made his own Blue Spirit costume. He’s been wearing it every day, and treated it like it’s this season’s Versace,” Katara murmurs. He laughs, loud and unbridled.

“Yeah? I saw a bunch of little girls with their Painted Lady dolls.” They were holding onto them until their knuckles turned white, even with Zuko dangling them from his shoulders.

Katara’s heart swells. “I think I’m going to cry.”

Zuko nudges her shoulder with his when he hears her mock-sniffles.

“Did you know I told this guy ‘it’s time to evacuate!’ while he was mid-masturbation.”

Katara’s stomach is starting to hurt with how hard she’s squealing. “You’re lying ! Please, say sike!”

Zuko throws his hands up. “I couldn’t make this up even if I tried. He was all like, ‘You mean time to ejaculate!’” Zuko finishes the story in a dude-bro voice.

At this point, Katara was shaking uncontrollably, and it’s infectious. He can’t help laughing, too.

A beat of silence passes between the duo, too distracted by the night sky.

Zuko rubs a hand over his face, determined to stay awake to see her fall asleep.

“What would Zuko and Katara have been in another life?” Katara whispers wistfully.

He glances over to her, eyes heavy. “I think being us would have been easier, in another life.” Her light snores fill the air. “At least then, I could be by your side.”

He nudges her head until it fits securely in the crook of his shoulder.

“Sit there and look pretty!”

“No!”

“All I’m asking you to do is sit and blink!” Katara had run into a kid with a smuggled polaroid camera trying to snap photos of her. In return for not slicing open his urethra with a dull butter knife, she was trying to force him to take photos of Zuko. After all, she wanted a memento of her time with him.

The teen was nervously glanced between the two, the camera shaking in his grasp.

“I think I’m going to go find my mom…”

“Pussy bitch!” Katara screams at the running boy.

“Old ass hoe!” He yelps back.

Zuko knew it was a mistake taking Katara to the night market. As a celebration of the Mid-Autumn Festival, curfews were relaxed. The marketplace opened up to sell street food into the night. There’s singing, dancing, laughing, drinking. A night to forget, a night meant for happiness.

He thinks it’s ridiculous. The way she doesn’t notice the way guys look at her. He’s spent the better part of the night standing in front of her if any man was brave enough to glance in her general direction. At night, she was in her element, her smile was a blinding thing that made his heart race. She doesn’t pay any mind to anyone staring, to anyone trying to get her attention. She’s just taking in the little moments around her, eyes so bright and stares so wide. Like she’s afraid to miss a single detail with just a blink.

“Your breath smells like stupid bitch,” Katara points out after what had to be his 20th grunt of the night. She’s sure he’s holding her close to make sure they still played a newly engaged couple. She relishes in the attention all the same.

“Sorry.” He sulks like a child, and it makes Katara want to hug him.

She pecks his cheek and he freezes. “Look! He bought his girlfriend that potato on a stick thing!”

Zuko rushes off without any hesitation.

He picks the fire flakes off the potato slices before handing it to her. She practically inhales the snack, and he frets. He thinks she’s about to stab herself with the skewer. “Oh look!” She points to another couple, while pouting. “He won her a stuffed dragon.”

Zuko couldn’t stand to see her upset, even for a second.

When she’s hugging the plushie close to her, Zuko throws his arm around her. She stops in her tracks. “Oh my god! Is that ice cream—” He runs to find the vendor without even thinking.

“Number 43!” The vendor yelps. Zuko instantly recognizes the greasy teenager picking up the order in front of him.

“Give me the photos you took of my fiancé,” he says, panting. He practically ran at lightning speed to catch up to the kid, who intentionally rushed off after feeling Zuko glaring him down from a distance. The boy feels his bladder shaking.

“But—but you didn’t want a photo! You—” Zuko’s best menacing scowl had the kid scrambling through his pockets. “She could do better, you know!” He petulantly points out, before throwing the photo in the air and taking off.

Zuko lets himself smile after tucking Katara’s picture safely into his wallet. He knew he told himself he wouldn’t get attached. Not his fault she’s cast him under her spell.

He’s pouting. She’s struggling not to laugh in his face.

“This is mine, now.” He indignantly rips the toy of her hold, squishing it to his chest instead.

“Why?” she questions.

“If you want one so bad, ask Chan to win you one.” She straight up guffaws in his face. Zuko had caught Chan hugging her out of excitement. Ty Lee finally agreed to a date with him, all thanks to Katara meddling.

“I can’t believe you’d cheat on me!” Zuko scowls. He’s more cute than terrifying, and Katara just rolls her eyes. “I thought I was the only one you call ‘babe!’” He tries protesting.

Katara snorts. “That was short for ‘beyblade.’ Let it rip, motherfucker!”

“Am I not a good husband-to-be? Is that what it is? Do you feel neglected, babe ?” He’s just fucking with her at this point, his childish pout threatening to bleed into a full blown laugh. He’s biking them back home, with Katara seated at the front on only a towel. She misses her Tesla.

“For starters, your toes look like gorilla knuckles. They look like they could wrap completely around a baseball.”

“Hey!”

“Be honest. Has anyone ever sucked your toes until you creamed yourself?” Katara’s favorite pastime is making Zuko blush.

She turns back to him to see his reddening face. “Oh my god! Look at how cute you are! I think my stomach has the butterflies!” Zuko just grows positively crimson at her mocking tone. He’ll blame the warming weather, though.

“Kill them. I won’t treat you right,” Zuko murmurs. Katara just swats at his head. “Didn’t I shoot at you? Love yourself, Katara.”

Once they reach his house, she jumps off the bicycle, and grabs Zuko by the shoulders. “Hey.”

“What?” He can’t help being mesmerized by her eyes.

“I think I’ll miss you,” Katara breathes.

“You have to leave first for you to miss me.” Zuko wraps her up in a tight hug.

He feels selfish when he wishes moments with Katara could last a lifetime.

#zutara fanfiction #zutara #zuko x katara #zutara month #zutara month 2020 #may 13 #hidden #zutara month part two

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gyromitra-esculenta · 4 years

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The penultimate chapter for Something Ends, Something Begins - still ‘Bad Witcher AU’. The song sung in the beginning is Lament of Orpheus by Darren Korb.

Warnings: none (unless you count friendly ribbing and calling names, weasels (one particular weasel)).

Gabriel wakes up alone and with the aftertaste of the chaos on his tongue. From the outside, a melody plucked on lute's strings floats. Absentmindedly, he picks straw from his hair and rebinds it in a low-hanging ponytail. Custom calls for it to be shorn with the mourning ended but he is hesitant, not willing to make his mind up yet – what is the point of keeping the customs he does not know the true weight of?

He loosens the buckles and clasps of the armor, the particular feeling of having slept in it fading – the drops of dried blood on it reassuring. Soon, the brassards join the chest piece on the blankets, and Gabriel turns his attention to the bags showing obvious signs of having been tampered with, obviously so. A fresh shirt, although wrinkled, hangs above them, thrown haphazardly over the wooden wall of the box. He runs his fingers against the dyed cloth, the weave tight and simple, the stitching reinforced with strips of cured leather.

Outside, a distinct voice meandering between harmony and dissonance carries a maudlin melody.

"Hear, o gods, my desperate plea, to see my love beside me."

He changes, listening to the song and wondering over its rhyme, or maybe he's trying to look too deep into it, and the words of warning to not mistake the stars for their reflection on the surface of the water come to mind.

"Sunk below the mortal sea her anchor weighs upon me."

Still, it's one of those songs performed when drunks had either slipped under the tables or turned contemplative – and when the brawls and the boasts transformed into the philosophies discussed over the cups of mead and dirty tables.

"Fasten her tether unto me that she may rise to sail free."

Gabriel steps out into the open. The sun pleasantly warms his skin, the smell of meat roasted with juniper and rowanberry wine wafts on the air.

"Don't look back," Sombra holds the melody on her tongue, the words mingling fluidly together into one flowing utterance. She puts her palm across the strings of the lute held in her lap, a fleeting smile on her lips. By her side, with his legs crossed, sits Jack, looking up with an expression equal parts fond, apologetic, and the kind a mischievous kid caught stealing apples might wear.

"I was looking for clean clothes for you, and you had her crystal at the bottom of one bag, so I thought..."

"...you'd call me in the middle of the night?" Sombra snorts.

"It was an hour before noon, witch."

"The middle of the night, as I said, you incorrigible forest pest."

"Oh, excuse me, your witchness, I forgot about your never-ending moral hangover."

"Rich, coming from an ungulate," Sombra tries to sound offended but her face betrays her with how red-rimmed her eyes still are, and her hair curl around her cheek naturally, the coiffure forwent. The same with her garments, the frilly shirt with several laces undone and breeches more akin to something gathered at a moment's notice in a frantic hurry. Gabriel smiles, coming closer, beckoned with Jack's outstretched hand.

"It's not me with a weasel betwixt my tits."

"He likes it there because there is something he can lie betwixt, warm and soft, and voluminous."

"I'm still growing so that's uncalled for," Jack gives her a look full of almost genuine hurt as he pulls Gabriel down to the ground to rest between his now uncrossed legs.

Gabriel lets himself be guided and falls with his back against Jack's chest, different yet so familiar – arms circling his waist and the chin wedged over his shoulder as Jack laughs with a huff. "Oof, you're heavy now, cub."

"At least, we're past the puberty," Sombra smiles indulgently.

"Don't get me started, witch, the pimples were the least of my worries, the wenches are like bloodhounds after a wounded stag," Jack jests with a note of challenge in his tone. Sombra brushes her fingers against the strings, wresting a whimsical accord out of the lute.

"Forgive me for having no sympathy, ungulate. Now," she cocks her head, mischief in her gaze, "what are your plans?"

"I was thinking, I've never been to Skellige, little cub."

"Skellige?" Gabriel questions, shifting somewhat. "Why Skellige?"

"Oh," Jack moves one hand to his hair and picks at the stray blade of straw Gabriel must have missed earlier, "lots of druids to piss off, and we might still get there for the sirens’ nesting period, I hear they're testy and irritable then, more than usual."

"I'll give you two months and meet you at Bremervoord. I'm booking the passage because I absolutely do not trust you both not to choose a hole-ridden tub that will sink if the wave rides higher than a hem of priestess' skirt," Sombra clicks her tongue at the end.

"Three months."

She stares at Gabriel, at first incredulous, then her expression morphs into a sly look unbefitting her lousy appearance.

"Yes, yes, a vast quantity of time to make up for, indeed, I do feel a ballad calling to me."

"No," Gabriel sighs, closing his eyes. “No ballads..."

"Yes, absolutely no ballads, I am still very much traumatized by your appalling rhymester vagaries," Jack pitches in his two crowns and Sombra is opening her mouth to object already.

"We have to drop by the stronghold to pick something up."

"We do?" Jack sounds surprised and Gabriel feels his chin shifting on his shoulder – imagining the inquisitive tilt of the head he needs not to see to know well.

"Your swords."

"You kept them."

"Of course I did. They were-are good swords," he catches himself too late. Only now, Gabriel notices how profound the shift from 'was' to 'is' is - it's one thing to believe this reality, and another to accommodate it and let it redefine the pain and the loneliness, and finally the acceptance, in the years before – and some surprise resentment lingers.

He's reminded of how everything – and nothing at all – had changed after he had acquiesced to Jack's attentions for the first time.

"I need a leak." Sombra pulls herself up, leaving the lute on the ground. "Don't wait for me," she adds before briskly moving to the fence and vaulting over it. Strangely, no retort is coming from Jack, and Gabriel notices the tears when a brush of the lips on his cheek smears the moisture. How kind of her to leave.

"I'm sorry, cub. I am," Jack whispers, "truly, terribly, horribly sorry, for all. For everything. I could feel you, know that you are out there, but the knowledge of seeing you was beyond my grasp," he muses, his palm rising to Gabriel's other cheek. "The flower weaves its protections, even from me, so I could only wait for you to come to me until I could go to you myself."

"Your farewells."

"Today, the same as Nielub's hair-cutting, but it doesn't mean I have to leave in the evening," Jack sighs, fingers playing with Gabriel's hair again, twirling the loose strands with a doting tempo. "Tomorrow's not too late, and neither too early."

It strikes him that maybe Jack does not want to leave having known family life now, something he would have not experienced before. Something of the thought must reflect in him because Jack chuckles and nuzzles his cheek with his nose before speaking again.

"It's my time to leave, with you, cub. You're all I need, and want," he sighs. "It won't be the easiest, I did get used to this kind of existence, but... I didn't know better, it was wrong of me to take them from you."

"You're keeping them safe for me."

"Always will."

The irony of 'I didn't know better' does not elude Gabriel; having his own words turned against him in a strange twist brings comfort rather than uneasiness – two admissions of guilt neither of them faults the other for.

"It's enough, knowing they are with you."

He wants to add his own apology but the unexpected screech has him looking at the source: Sombra frantically trying to wriggle her hand into her shirt from the top.

"Watch the claws, you furry Nilfgaardian bastard! Out! Out!"

"I think that's our cue, hm, cub?"

"Did you...?"

"I'd never. He just got bored," Jack chuckles as Sombra turns twice on the spot unsuccessfully attempting to halt with her hands the bump moving under the cloth, the weasel each time squeezing under or between her palms.

"Your whore mother of..."

"Murder mother!" Jack quips, slipping away from behind Gabriel. "Just stand still."

"The demon has the claws in my belly," Sombra hisses, arms outstretched and held away from her sides. "Get it out. Now. Or there will be a fried weasel appetizer."

"You wouldn't," Jack puts a palm against his chest with a horrified gasp, stopping just before her and leaning down. "Lord Murders-A-Lot does not deserve such a barbaric end!"

"Or a ballad."

"Now, this is a fate worse than death."

He grabs Sombra's shirt and pulls the bottom out of her britches, catching the falling weasel with his other hand. Lord Murders-A-Lot scurries up his arm with a chirp and briefly nibbles on his ear.

"I'm scratched all over. Devil, not a weasel."

"All weasels are devils."

As Jack pets the Lord, Gabriel feels himself slipping and falling back into the rhythm of it, the equilibrium snapping into place like the last piece of an astrolabe tracking the movement of the spheres.

"Just don't get him started."

"You're just jealous of my wee murder ribbon."

"I don't get his obsession with weasels," Sombra mutters, stuffing her shirt back where it belongs before she leans down for her lute.

"Neither do I?" Gabriel chuckles looking to Jack who smiles softly - his gaze warm and content, and something more elusive swirling behind it.

"C'mon," he beckons with his head, offering his hand to Gabriel, "it's about to start, would be rude to keep everyone waiting, wouldn't it?"

"It would." Gabriel accepts and grips his palm, pulling himself up and stumbling Jack for a moment – at first trying to steal a quick kiss but losing himself in it amidst the laughter.

#sometimes I write #r76 #reaper76 #totallynotwitcher!au #murder-deer #lord murders-a-lot is a menace

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stuckony-summer-stocking · 4 years

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willidothefandango (nagth)

Highest Rating: E Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Noir, Stargate Atlantis, Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Avengers Academy (Video Game) Tags: Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Clint Barton, Carol Danvers/James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Kamala Khan & Tony Stark, James Rhodes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Peter Parker, Kamala Khan, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, IN SPACE!, Angst with a Happy Ending, Miscommunication, Werewolves, Identity Porn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Porn with Feelings, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Hiding Medical Issues, Huddling For Warmth, Protective Steve Rogers, Action/Adventure, Tentacles, Protective Bucky Barnes, Feral Behavior, Scent Marking, Medical Kink Short Prompts: 1) Stuck in a cabin 2) Possesive werewolf Tony 3) Old Guard au Long Prompts: 1) Witcher Bucky and Witcher Steve only trust their gear to Tony the blacksmith (and maybe he's the only one that takes their coin too). But then one day the blacksmith seems to get into trouble. 2) Tony's spaceship malfunctioned and left him stranded in a random planet, and when a wolf like creature shows up in front of him he expects it to be the last thing he sees but instead it drags him to his wounded furry friend. 3) King Stark has been sent two young men as tribute, courtesans to please the king. But Bucky and Steve aren't there just to be pretty, their mission is to get close to Stark and kill him, and then they meet the king and things get a bit more complicated.

Do Not Wants: non con body modification, permanent injury, genderswap, major character death, unhappy ending, mpreg, kid fic, cheating, scat Likes: I love AUs but also canon, so any of the tags mentioned with canon works good for me. I love things that involved werewolves as you can see by the tags too haha. And for ABO I love tropes subversions, so things like A/A/A or an Omega fucking their Alphas is definitely right up my alley. But really, as long as it ends happy most everything I am likely to love :D Treats: Movie and podcasts recommendations (anything mysterie and science fiction themed) and pics of cute cats and dogs (specially weiner dogs!) are all appreciated

Socials: My tumblr is the same as my username, and I am around in discord too CLICK HERE TO VIEW ALL STOCKINGS OR TO CLAIM THIS STOCKING. CLICK HERE FOR INFORMATION ON FILLING STOCKINGS. Treats open on September 25th.

#nagth #willidothefandango #stocking post

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jawnjendes · 5 years

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shawn meets... | sapphire(2)

SUMMARY: in the life of a rockstar, shawn mendes comes across some unique people. sometimes, things stray from the norm. (AU, shawn x every one of my oc’s)(continuation/spin off of goth gf)

AN: yall asked,,, so yall shall receive

***let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist

previous chapter

sapphire’s blog | sapphire’s playlist | masterlist

“Don’t know if you love me or you want me dead”

Shawn fell asleep after his time with Sapphire. It wasn't a deep sleep, though. He faded in and out of consciousness, opening his eyes every so often and wondering where he was and why there was a hand around his neck. Rain was hitting the windows, which caused an uproar in the straggling party guests still outside. The sounds weren't unfamiliar to Shawn, and neither was the squeezing sensation around his neck.

“Push me away, push me away… beg me to stay, beg me to stay”

The fourth time Shawn opened his eyes was when he was waking up from a nightmare. He couldn't quite remember what he was seeing in his sleep, he just felt that fear strike his chest and send him back to the waking life. Wheezing, he touched his neck, feeling pain like bruises on the skin. But that was a dream, wasn’t it?

Perhaps he was still dreaming, he thought as he spotted something in the corner by the bedroom door. Shawn wasn’t exactly afraid, just confused. Why was the figure so far away? Why wouldn’t they come to bed? There was a lot of room here. He looked down at Sapphire, but all that was left was an empty space.

The figure in the corner was Sapphire. Head down at an angle, her hair almost covering her face like the girl from The Ring. Her eyes were open, but hooded and so red they lit up that corner of the room.

“...something in the way you looking through my eyes…”

Shawn leaned forward a little to get a better look, to make sure that that was Sapphire. He was still unafraid, just a little confused. His eyes were heavy, and he was prepared to just let it go for the night. But he felt the hand around his neck again, and air stopped moving through his lungs.

“Don’t know if I’m gonna make it out alive…”

Sapphire was not joking when she said she wanted to keep Shawn around. The morning after the party, she had people bring his luggage from the hotel he was supposed to be staying at. Andrew had a few stern words to say, but Shawn reminded him that he was on a break right now. There weren't any work-related obligations to take care of. Even if there were, Shawn may have cancelled, because living in Sapphire's home was incredible.

Take Ariana's 7 Rings, and put it in real life. Breakfast at Tiffany's and bottles of bubbles. That's what it was like for the next few days. Now, Shawn has had his own taste of the good life during his time as a celebrity, but there was something different about the energy here. The butlers (yes, there were others besides Charles) always hovered a little bit, making sure that Shawn had everything he needed. Every maid was a little jumpy, always yelping or nearly toppling over a vase every time he walked past one of them when they didn’t see him. The only person who wasn’t moderately scatterbrain was Kat. She was very determined to remain professional around Shawn.

“You have a call with Spain today,” she told Sapphire, who was sat at the table in the garden with Shawn. They were having a delicious breakfast of eggs, sausages, and beans. Sounds plain, but when it comes from the chefs of a 27 year old billionaire, it hits different.

“Oh, KitKat,” she replied, looking up at her assistant, “when will Spain realize that there is nothing between us?”

Shawn couldn’t tell if she was referring to the country or a person with a country’s name. He chewed his food slowly, feeling pain in his throat. Maybe he was coming down with something. It was awfully cold the night of the party.

“I will tell them you’re on vacation… again,” Kat said, texting on her phone. “Okay, next: you have a meeting with the contractors to discuss the expansion of your closet. After that, you have a Skype meeting with the head of the Butterflies for the Better charity to further discuss the conflicts of interest with said head of charity.”

“Mm,” Sapphire hummed. Then she looked up from her plate. “Wait. Conflict of interest?”

Kat let out a breath, like she wasn’t keen on saying her next statement. “It seems that the head of the charity, Ms. Santiago herself, noticed your interest in her. She would have removed you from the organization altogether if you didn’t have something the charity needs: funding.”

It was kind of difficult to act like Shawn wasn’t listening in on this conversation, but he looked up at the two women, mild interest on his face. There was a name he recognized in there after all.

“Something you want to add, Mr. Mendes?” Kat asked, acknowledging him for the first time in days.

Sapphire looked at him as well, blue eyes expectant.

“Butterflies for the Better,” he said. “I, uh, I helped Bella get it off the ground last year. Didn’t know Sapphire was a trustee.”

“I am,” she said with a grin. “It’s such a wonderful charity, I didn’t know you had a hand in bringing it to life.”

Shawn nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I mean, I owe Bella a lot so I figured I could help her. But, what’s this conflict of interest thing?”

It turns out, Sapphire followed Bella’s YouTube channel almost religiously and had a not-so-tiny-or-secret crush on her. The two of them met in 2017, and kept in contact every so often. Meaning, Sapphire was not shy with her flirtatious comments on Bella’s Instagram posts. Bella wanted her involved in the charity’s creation, but only if Sapphire remained professional.

“I can’t help it. Have you seen her?” Sapphire pouted.

“Yeah, she’s very pretty,” Shawn told her. “But this isn’t about that. You have to keep the charity’s interests as a priority.”

“But do I have to Skype her for that?” she whined.

“How else is she going to know you’re serious?” Kat asked in return.

Shawn thought for a moment. He’s known Bella for a good few years, and while she has grown and evolved, some things just never changed.

“I think a text would be better,” he told the two women. “She doesn’t like anything resembling a phone or Skype call.”

Kat scoffed. “It’s unprofessional.”

“She’ll appreciate it,” he persisted. “And I just saw you text Spain, so.”

“Do what my little one says, KitKat,” Sapphire said pointedly.

The eye contact the two of them shared made Shawn remember a few questions he had to ask. He would have to wait when Kat wasn’t around, though. He was expecting some tension, dirty looks, or even something not-so-great between her and Sapphire, but things were… easy? Things were okay, and laidback? It was weird, but Shawn wasn’t going to complain. He just had to know why it was like this.

Sapphire was quick to slightly change the topic when Kat went back inside the mansion. "Speaking of Bella, she's in a video with another YouTuber, it came out today! You wanna watch it?"

"Yeah," Shawn replied. He was down for relaxing with a pretty girl and watching his equally pretty friend on YouTube.

The two went back inside, and Sapphire led him to one of the many sitting rooms with massive plasma screens. She excitedly booted up YouTube and put on said video, "I Spent a Day with Legendary Beauty Gurus."

Bella was among two other beauty gurus, separate interviews that were cut together into one video. They were all interviewed about "the wonderous world of being a makeup artist on YouTube." However, Bella referred to herself as an "almost artist," saying that she dropped out of cosmetology school to pursue YouTube and attend the university for it. The interview was pretty funny and lighthearted, while being educational at the same time. The interviewer, Anthony Padilla, was quite funny himself and even hugged Bella when she got deep about a particular question. He wasn’t just some sleeze trying to get dirt and gossip out of his guests.

"I like this guy," Shawn said after the video was over, grabbing the remote and flicking through the recommended section. "Man, he's interviewed so many people. Sugar babies, OG YouTubers, furries? And…"

He stopped on one video, his stomach turning at the thumbnail. There was Anthony, with the inquisitive look on his face, and next to him was a very familiar face.

"I Spent a Day with GOTHS"

"Something catch your eye?" Sapphire asked him. "You can put on whatever you want."

Shawn pressed play before his brain could process it. There was the dramatic intro as always and the animation of Anthony plopping down in his seat before introducing himself. Shawn's heart went faster in anticipation as he watched each guest be introduced. One was a bald man in his 40s with tattoos all over his scalp, with a charming smile. Another was a lady with a mohawk and about a thousand face piercings and a serious tone. The last one was in fact-

"Ann! So nice to meet you!"

"You too!"

Her face was exactly the same. Her hair got longer, and there were bright green and blue streaks in it. She pushed strands behind her ear, revealing many piercings. She was in her signature black lipstick and a Wednesday Addams type of dress, paired with fishnets and leather platform boots.

Anthony got the same vibe. “Got a Wednesday look, I see.”

Ann chuckled. “She’s my style icon.”

Like the previous video, it cut back and forth between all three guests, but Shawn only cared about one. He leaned forward on the couch, immediately consumed by Ann’s voice and focusing in on her body language. She still rubbed her hands together, an indication that she was nervous to be on camera. The video was edited to zoom in on that gesture, since she did it so often as she was asked the first question.

“So what do you refer to yourself as? A goth, a death enthusiast?” Anthony asked.

“You know, I’ve never said I was goth out loud,” Ann said, “even though I looked the part, and other people said I was. I think within the last four or five years I’ve called myself a goth and just embraced the name.”

Shawn couldn’t believe it. He checked the video description to see when it came out, and it was a year ago. Four years prior to that, Ann was still dating him. At what point during university did she externally take on that label? Shawn couldn’t remember an instance where she called herself a goth.

He didn’t fast forward through the video even though he wanted to. He was still aware of the pink lady sat by him, even though she was scrolling on her phone, having gotten bored of the video already.

“Did you always wear black, or did you have a phase during your life of wearing other colors?”

“It’s funny, because my parents are polar opposites. My dad’s a goth and my mom is, for lack of a better word, a normie,” Ann said, folding her arms.

“Really? A goth and a normie?” Anthony replied, surprised.

The video cut to one of the other guests answering that question. Shawn huffed out a breath, almost sitting back until Ann came back on the screen.

“Yeah. So when I was a baby, they took turns dressing me everyday. One day I was in a pink frilly dress, the next I was in a plain black onesie. But as I got older, I migrated towards black and they let me wear dark clothes all the time.”

“Did you get made fun of in school?”

“Oh, I got made fun of all the way through university. The trick is to play along and the normies will stop giving a shit.”

Anthony laughed. “Really? Like how?”

Again, the video cut. Shawn grew impatient and grabbed the remote, forwarding the video until he saw Ann again.

“Okay, there was a guy I knew in college. Every time he’d see me, he was like ‘who’s soul are you sacrificing today?’ And I just looked around at our group of friends and said ‘I haven’t decided yet’ or like ‘I’m not hungry for souls, I want a heart instead.’”

That made Anthony’s and Shawn’s jaws drop. While Anthony was entertained by that answer, Shawn knew exactly what Ann was talking about. She had that interaction with Brian the first time they were introduced. It became a running joke with the two of them.

"What is a common misconception that the majority have about the goth subculture?"

"That we're all depressed and suicidal! I mean I am depressed but that has nothing to do with my tendency to wear black and think about the inevitability of death!"

Anthony chuckled. "You sound like a friend of mine."

"Seriously, like eighty percent of the goths I meet are some of the happiest people I've ever met!" Ann was talking louder, and using her hands more. She was hyping herself up. "We've reached a point where we respect ourselves enough to express ourselves exactly how we want, and be our authentic selves! What about that seems sad or depressing?"

It was true, because Shawn had seen that in her in the past. Ann was happiest in her darkest colors. She had a talent of making the most morbid things look beautiful.

As the other guests spoke, Shawn had no choice but to think back to Brian. He felt the pang of guilt that was still on his chest. He hadn’t spoken to Brian since the birthday party, and he had been too distracted with Sapphire to actually do anything about it. Shawn really ditched his best friend for a girl. Sure Sapphire is fun, and incredibly sexy. She’s a mindblowing lay…

Shawn zoned back into the video upon hearing his own name. He saw Ann chuckling, but quickly rewound the video to catch the context.

“So, as a goth, you tend to deviate from mainstream things,” Anthony prompted. “Is there any type of mainstream media you do enjoy?”

“Yeah, there are some pop artists I like,” Ann replied, nodding her head.

“Like who?”

“Uh… name some, and I’ll tell you.”

“Taylor Swift?”

“No.”

“Billie Eilish?”

“No.”

“Shawn Mendes?”

Ann went silent for a moment, brown eyes flickering to the camera. Then she chuckled, and rubbed her hands together.

Anthony grinned. “Did I guess one?”

Then, the video cut again. Frustrated, Shawn grumbled under his breath, not even realizing that Sapphire was paying attention once again.

“Something wrong, darling?” she asked.

He ignored her and fast forwarded again. Ann was on the screen.

“It’s funny you mention Shawn Mendes,” she said. “I actually loved him at one point in my life.”

“Yeah? Big fan?”

“Definitely.”

Shawn’s eyes were wide. It seemed like he was the only person that knew the real meaning of Ann’s statement. At one point in her life, she loved him. And he loved her. He loved her so much that her presence still lingers in his head and heart to this day, and it’s been almost five years since they broke up.

He didn’t like admitting it to himself, but Shawn was starting to think that Brian was right, and that was why he was kicked out of the makeshift dressing room the other night.

Sapphire piped up once the video was over, her hand reaching over and gently touching the back of Shawn’s neck. “Are you a goth or something? Why were you so interested in that video?”

He felt a weird chill and a type of deja vu go down his spine. It passed quickly, and he focused on the question. Sure, he was staying in this mansion for a while, but Sapphire was by no means a girlfriend, or someone with any kind of romantic interest in him. He could be honest. “That girl in the thumbnail. She’s my ex.”

That made the blonde grin with surprise. “Is she really? Didn’t know you had a type.”

Shawn chuckled. “A type?”

“Well of course. You dated a goth girl in the past. You slept with my assistant, who also dips into that realm.”

“You, you knew about me and Kat?” He blushed, and a pit formed in his stomach.

Sapphire giggled. “I know everything, baby. Can’t hide anything in this house,” she said with a wink. “And I don’t mind. We’re not dating, and you’re both hot. Everyone should love everyone at one point.” She suddenly gasped, her hands reaching for his arm. “Wait until you meet Sam! He’s going to come round in a few days! I adore him, and I know you will too!”

There was so much to take in, Shawn felt like he had whiplash.

next chapter

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @someoneunimportantxx @iloveshawnieboi @chillingbythesea @shawnsunflower

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #shawn x oc #shawn meets fic #yall were askin for the og goth gf #there she is #thats all u get #now shut up n eat #(im jk thnk u for the comments n validation)

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kamino-ink · 6 years

Text

Hireath | Han Jisung

✧ hireath - a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return

✧ Genre: Fantasy!au, fluff, hella angst proceed with tissues

✧ Summary: you and jisung have always been side by side, training dutifully to become knights as to protect your kingdom of mirstone. when the plan to overthrow ylanta’s king and queen involves your skills as knights, you are both put to the test in every way imaginable.

✧ Word Count: 2.2k

✧ Other installments in the series: woojin, chan, hyunjin, changbin, jeongin, minho, felix, seungmin

✧

han jisung is, simply put, your other half in every way imaginable

it was as if the gods had planned for the two of you to become as inseparable as you are to this day, as you were born at the exact same time on the exact same day - and your houses were right next to each other

not to mention your parents were childhood friends as well

the pair of you grew up side by side, playing in puddles of icky mud and climbing to the very top of the trees in the forest behind your houses, much to your families’ displeasure

due to the high status of both of your families, many expected you to follow in your father’s footsteps and become a renowned aristocrat with jisung one day rising to become an artist known for his pieces around the world

but you and jisung had very, very different plans, since the very beginning

this diverging plan emerged on a stormy afternoon, the two of you had been chasing each other throughout the streets of the bustling city when a sudden ‘boom!’ erupted, nearly sending you both flying into a brick wall

but someone had caught your smaller bodies with quick, cat-like reflexes

that someone was one of the knights in your home kingdom

his armor was stained a stunning blue and white mix of colors, the distinct emblem of the royal family carved into the steel plating

the knight glanced over your shaking bodies once, twice, and then once more before he concluded no external damage had come to either of you

before jisung could open his mouth to ask the knight any questions sure to be running through his active brain, the lanky man had already started to take off towards the town square where the boom had come from, blending in with the plethora of other knights ready to defend their people from harm

that was the day both of you mutually decided that, one day, you both would become the strongest, most dedicated knights in the entire kingdom

the two of you stuck by each other’s sides all the time, even now you stood straight next to one another, clad in the blue and white armor you had come to admire for many years now

while you both were still quite young, no one could doubt how strong you both were and how much you excelled as a duo on the battlefield

while both of you were incredibly strong, jisung was the one who had mastered strategy-making and long-ranged weapons; meanwhile you had mastered the art of guerilla warfare, which was obvious by how muscular your body had become over the years

while jisung was essentially the louder, more rambunctious of the two of you, he had more brains and you held more brawns, even if you were the one who had to convince the boy to not try and slip jelly cubes into one of the general’s drinks while she wasn’t looking

you balanced each other out, it was as simple as that

“I know that you two are confident in your abilities to carry out this mission, but I beg of you - please be careful, if not for me, for the princess.” seungmin, one of the general’s sons pleaded to you and jisung, his usually stoic expression fading into one of worry at the carefree smiles planted onto your lips

“aww, is little seungmin worried about his best friends in the whole wide world?” jisung cooed teasingly to the younger boy while you ruffled his hair, causing the boy to let out a whine of annoyance and affection

“don’t sweat it, the two of us can do this no problem. its just a stealth mission through the mountains across the border, right? we got this.” you try to reassure your close friend, offering him a wide smile to try and lift his spirits

thing is, you were just as worried, if not more, about this particular mission

you and jisung had never tracked across miles of mountains before, and especially not into enemy territory that was growing more and more weary of invasion with each passing day

while the court wizard of ylanta, minho, was doing his best to deter the royal family from suspecting any sort of plan against them, there were still rumors

and rumors were enough for any sort of leader to be on guard more than usual

even though you damn well knew that the two boys you called your best friends, along with the princess now stranded in ylanta for her wedding, could sense your growing weariness, you refused to verbalize your concerns

“i’m sure our darling princess will be happy to see you two again since she’s stuck up there,” seungmin tried to lighten the mood, smiling at the thought of their friend group being able to reunite, “just make sure to stay low, stay hidden - tho-”

“those bastards won’t hesitate to shoot us down, we know, genius.” the blonde beside you finished the statement, patting seungmin’s shoulder reassuringly as he met your worried gaze

“we’ll be fine, don’t worry so much.”

that same night you and jisung had set out on your long journey through mirstone , taking a pair of horses for a majority of the way before you hit the mountain range that was between mirstone and ylanta’s borders

but by the time you reached the bottom of the rocky slopes, you had to bid farewell to your horses, knowing the poor creatures wouldn’t be able to stand the chilly temperatures and dangerous slopes ahead

so you and jisung shrugged on the bags onto your backs, letting out pitiful grunts at the sheer weight of the leather material now weighing your bodies down a bit more than either of you expected

the first stop didn’t turn out to be so bad; you had made a good track so far, walking at least five miles through the spiky range of tall mountains; a feat only you two could accomplish alone

if another squadron had been sent to make the journey along with you both, there was no way you would’ve made it so far, and so quietly

see, only three of the fifteen miles of mountains stretched into mirstone - the rest went on through a subsection of ylanta

so it would be no surprise if you were met with enemy solders at one point or another, hence why sending only two of the best knights was surely the best decision the strategists could’ve made at the time

“you want some of my beef stick?” jisung asked you, watching carefully as you sadly rubbed your belly; you could only bring a certain amount of rations, and for the most part it included little to no real meat, in fear that a wild bear would smell the meal and try to take it from you two

still you snuck in two beef sticks to keep you energized on the first day, as it was the longest part of the journey. you had eaten yours already during the horseback ride, but jisung had proved as smart as ever, choosing to instead eat his beef stick before bed so that he would feel more energized in the morning

“no way, you need to eat all of it - I already ate mine.” you pushed away his kind offering, blushing a crimson red when your stomach decides to let out an ungodly sound akin to a lion’s growl

jisung rolled his eyes and leaned in closer to you, stuffing part of the ration into your mouth before you could protest

“chew, y/n.” he insisted, smirking cockily when you huff and take a bite of his ration, pulling away and continuing to chew on the tough beef with puffed cheeks. “atta girl, that’s my cute little chipmunk~” he cooed teasingly, pursing his lips and pinching your cheeks

you can’t help but feel your cheeks (which were still being pinched) heat up at his gentle yet still teasing touch, the pads of his fingertips warm against your chilly skin

once he pulls away you end up chewing on the beef stick until you finish, then continue to sit close to each other in favor of not freezing to death on your first night in the mountains

jisung digs into his pack for a moment and then pulls out a pair of furry blankets, throwing one over both of your legs and the other over your shoulders before he shimmied underneath them right beside you

“do you remember the time I got stuck in a tree during training?” you ask him suddenly, feeling his lips twitch into a knowing smirk against the side of your head

“I do. you tried to impress one of the visitors from that little town - arbington, I think?” he ponders aloud, but continues after your hum of approval. “yeah, he owns a menagerie or whatever and you thought he was sooo cute~”

“shut up jisung… he was cute.”

“not as cute as me though, duh.”

“obviously.”

“but I was the only one able to come up and bring you down; you refused to accept help from anyone but your best friend.” he giggles

you laugh and roll your eyes, snuggling up closer to him for warmth

and then you both fall asleep, curled up into each other with your legs tangled together under the warmth of the blanket

the next two days were relatively the same; you would walk through the mountains for a few miles, sneak past outposts with ylantian guards, and camp out next to one another

“hey y/n,” jisung speaks after some time of comfortable silence, walking ahead of you by a few inches, but nothing too far, “after this mission - after we win the war...” he trails off, dipping his head down in thought, a strand of his blonde hair swaying in front of his eyes

you tilt your head thoughtfully, mimicking his actions. “what’s wrong, ji?”

he takes a deep, shaky breath, suddenly stopping in his tracks to turn on his heels, now completely facing you

“ji-?”

“y/n, come live with me. somewhere, anywhere - seungmin already agreed to have a talk with the princess once this is all said and done,” he blurts out, his voice wavering, “I - I don’t want to keep doing shit like this, where I could possibly see you die in front of me. I couldn't - I could never live with myself if that happened, chipmunk.” he pleads with you, his gaze flickering all over your stunned expression as he waits for you to speak

“jisung - I... of course i’ll come live with you. I would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked me to.” you giggle at his expression which now clearly reflects yours merely moments ago

“wait, are you serious?” he breathes out, his lips parting to say more

then an arrow flies through the air, whizzing past your face and piercing the boy in his shoulder

you immediately place your body in front of his as fast as you possibly can, whisking out a pair of war axes from the hoops of your belt. meanwhile the injured boy hisses in pain, but doesn’t pull the arrow out, as he knows too well that you both could potentially be in for a long fight without medical attention - he didn’t want to risk bleeding too much from the wound in his shoulder

then, from the outskirts of the mountains, just out of view, a horde of ylantian solders start to creep from the shadowy crevices, decorated with heavy armor and giant battle axes as well as crossbows

suddenly a flurry of arrows fly at you both, some of them puncturing your lower legs, thighs, and arms

these soldiers weren’t shooting to kill; yet

“the king and queen send their regards - oh, and...” one of the soliders tep forward from his rocky perch, carelessly swinging a silver sword around as he smirked at your bleeding bodies, “before you both die, I figure you might want to know that we have your princess in captivity. she’ll be executed tomorrow at sunrise. terribly sorry.”

you feel your heart drop in your chest, and by the strangled grunt from jisung’s throat, you can tell he is as horrified as you are

“now, let’s see how much the two best knights of mirstone can take before they topple over.”

as the horde of shouting soldiers start to make their way towards you both, clearly already celebrating their victory, you find your hand searching for jisung’s; nearly crying out in relief when it intertwines with yours

“I - I love you squirrel.” you whimper softly, squeezing his hand as another arrow whizzes into your chest

“I love you too, chipmunk.” jisung whispers just loud enough for you to hear, a single tear rolling down his cheek at the endless sight of experienced enemies still hurtling your direction

there was no way to win this fight, and both of you knew that

but you both knew that at least you would die together, fighting until the very end for your country

for your kingdom, mirstone

for your friends, seungmin and the princess

for each other, for jisung, for y/n

and so, still holding hands, you both stood back to back, raising your weapons to your enemies

✧

#skzwriters #stray kids #stray kids au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #han jisung #jisung scenario #jisung imagine #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #I cried idk maybe imma baby #oof #my babies

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jarcinda · 6 years

Text

AU!Purple Paladin

Okay, I can’t get this AU idea out of my head, so I have to write it down xD

But before you read this shit, please beware of three things:

1. You may have some struggles to understand my writing or see some huge mistakes. English isn’t my first language. Honestly, I’m really bad in English but I try my best. No one else corrected this text, so there will be many mistakes in it. If you have question, cause you didn’t understand something, you can ask me 😊 (pls don’t hate me for being bad at english D:)

2. TRIGGER WARNUNG: Short mention of suicide and depression

3. I didn’t finished season 7 of Voltron yet, just for you to know.

Imagine that beside the lions there is another spaceship build by Alfor, looking like a majestic spread eagle. This spaceship is called hawk and it was hard to find a pilot for him, cause Hawk is being more stubborn than red. Alfor built Hawk as a support in fight for Voltron.

So, after Zarkon turns to be bad and all Hawk and his paladin (in purple armour) got hit bad from Zarkon and Hawk himself decides to flee and brought him and his paladin to earth, where they crashed into a cave. Hawk can’t move anymore and his paladin blame him to be a terrible spaceship, useless and not worthy to fight alongside Voltron. Hawk is hurt and shut himself down, never responding. So, the paladin, who is hurt and can’t move is doomed to die in this cave. He managed himself to get rid of his amour and cradle out of Hawk. He lends to a wall next to his spaceship, where he dies.

Soooo years later a little orphan girl, who ran away from her orphan home, cause she got bullied, finds Hawk still resting in this cave. He is still shut down and all dirty. The Girl also finds the skeleton of the paladin but after the first shock she tries to figure it out what happened. Even she is a little child she can sense the aura of Hawk and that there is something with this spaceship. She talks to Hawk, of course he isn’t responding. But the girl, called Luna, doesn’t give up and starts to clean Hawk, managed to bury the dead paladin and starts to visiting Hawk every day and talks to him. Mostly she tells him about being bullied and that her parents died a few months, after her birth so she doesn’t remember them. First Hawk is annoyed like hell by her, but with the time he gets used to her and kinda starts liking her.

So years passes and a few weeks after Luna turned 10 years old, a single galracruiser landed unnoticed next to the cave to get Hawk for Zarkon. Luna is terrified about the aliens and can feel that Hawk doesn’t want to get caught by them, so she refuses to hand Hawk over to them. When the galra about to kill Luna Hawk starts his system again. He doesn’t want her to get hurt so he attacks the galra, grabs Luna with his mouth and escapes the cave. Luna can’t stop him from entering the space and suddenly they are miles away from earth.

First Luna was really terrified. Even she doesn’t really enjoyed her life back on earth, she didn’t think she would ever be in space all alone by herself. But somehow it seems that Hawk is made to be the perfect spaceship for her. It doesn’t take her long to manage the controls and soon the grow to a pretty good team with a deep connection. Luna is able to her understand Hawk talking to her, also she can sense his feelings. Hawk tells her everything about Voltron, Alfor, Zarkon and the Galra Empire. She learns a lot and decides to bring Hawk back to the castle of lions, the place where he belongs.

On there trip they stranded on a strange planet on gather some supplies for Luna. The girl meets this white, cute furry animal, which looks like a cat crossed with a fox. They become friends and Luna names her Mascha. Mascha has the special ability to share her memories with other thanks to the blue stone on her forehead. Mascha joins Luna and Hawk on their journey and kind of becomes a diary for Luna.

Well after weeks flying through space, sometimes fighting against single little galra spaceships, Hawk traces the other paladins on a planet. (This whole scene is taking place at the beginning of season two of Voltron) When they got there, they noticed that the paladins without there are attacked from some galra spaceships. Luna and Hawk managed some super epic rescue and take all enemies down.

Luna leaves Hawk to greet the paladins. Of course, Shiro, Keith, Lance, Hunk and Pidge are kinda shocked that their life are saved by a little kid. But before they can talk about everything more cruisers are coming and Luna commanded everyone on her ship. After defeating another cruiser, Luna brings the paladins back to their lions and together they fly to the castle.

When they arrive Allura is shocked of seeing Hawk. She tells the other paladin of the sixth spaceship her father build as a support of Voltron, then she asked Luna how she become the pilot of this stubborn spaceship. Luna tells everyone the story of the cave without mention that she is an orphan. Luna is all excited about finding the other paladins and the princess, she wants to join Voltron. But the others refuse, because she is only ten years old, way too young to die in a war. Shiro tells Luna that she has to get back to earth to her family and home. Suddenly Luna becomes all sad and tells him that she is an orphan and that no one on earth cares about her, misses her. “If I really should die out there, it’s okay, cause I don’t have a place I a can return to.” Everyone is more shocked and feel sorry for her, but don’t know how to act. Coran is the one who breaks the ice and pulls Luna into a tearful (he was crying like hell) hug.

Luna stays at the castle of Lions. Shiro still doesn’t like the idea of her getting into this war, but he also can’t force her to fly back to earth. Also Hawk only accepts her as his pilot (Coran tried, but Hawk didn’t open up) so Luna becomes a part of team Voltron. For Luna it’s the best time of her life. Fast she becomes friends with everyone, even with Keith (she begged Keith to teach her fighting). Luna tries for the first time the purple armour and the purple bayard turns out to be a lance (which triggered Hunk and Pidge to make fun of the actually Lance).

Luna gets a really strong bond to Lance. She is very clumsy and he is used to take care of his younger siblings. So, every time she gets hurts, because of tripping or running into a door and tries not to cry cause of the pain, Lance is the first one who takes care of her, making here laugh and treating her wounds. He gives her his jacket and carry her around the castle until she is smiling bright like the sun. Spending time with Luna gives Lance the feeling not to be a useless goofball. Luna starts to see Lance as a brother and asks him thousand questions about his family and how it is to be in a family. They have the same sense of humour, which made them get along very well.

Luna also gets a strong bond with Shiro. He is very protective about her, always caring about her, making sure she gets not wounded in a fight or something. He feels responsible for her and is scared that she might get killed in this war. But the most reason that he cares about her, is that Luna kinda managed to pull all the stress off of him. He isn’t sure how, but every time he feels stressed and exhausted Luna gives him a big cute motivating smile and tells him how great he is doing, then she asks him to tell her a story and soon he forgets how stressed he was. Fast Shiro starts to have some father feelings for her and wishes he could adopt her and be her real dad. He doesn’t know, that Luna feels the same way. She wants Shiro to be her father, because he gives here the feeling of having a family. (Once she had a nightmare. Shiro allowed her to stay in his room and shared his bed with her. Luna was happy to cuddle with Shiro and fell asleep fast)

Hunk and Luna spending a lot of time together in the kitchen. Hunk teaches her cooking. They having a lot of fun together. Pidge teaches Luna a lot of science stuff, Luna isn’t dumb and she wants to learn everything about mechanic and all that stuff. With Allura Luna shares a lot of girly time. Brading hair (Luna also as long, straight hair), skin care and trying on different dresses. Luna finds a way to bond with everyone in the castle.

Yeah, time pass by and Luna helps Voltron a lot in their fight against galra and everything. So, when they about the go back to earth, Luna and Hawk get caught in a turbulence, some space light vortex or whatever. Well, she loses control over Hawk and they get separated from the team, finding their way first to earth. But of course, they get attacked from the galra and Hawk takes a really bad hit. They fell down on earth crushing into a deep hole. The galra didn’t follow them, cause they thought they destroyed Hawk and his paladin. Luna passed out when they crashed on ground.

When she wakes up, she finds herself in a dark cave next to a campfire. Her wounds are treated and someone covered her with a blanket. Confused she looks around and spied a stranger sitting at the other side of the fireplace. Turns out to be Adam, who survived the galra attack, but was badly hurt and had to hide himself from the galra. (oh, hell I wish it would be turned out like this in season 8) He tried to get back to the garrison, but he had no weapons, no supplies … the galra would have taken him out. Luna knows him, because Shiro told her about his boyfriend Adam. They start to talk a lot, thanks to the supplies Luna carried with Hawk, they had enough food and water for weeks. Luna wants to bring Adam back to the garrison, but her leg is broken, so she can’t fly, also Hawk had to recharge.

Adam and Luna become very fast friends. She tells him a lot about Shiro and how he is doing. They also discuss the fight Adam and Shiro had before the Kerberos Mission and Luna suggested that Shiro might hurt Adam on purposes, because of his illness. “Maybe Shiro thought it would be easier for you to manage his death, if you’re hate him. I mean Shiro thought he had to die, cause of his disease sooo … yeah, I could imagine that he acted like this, because he didn’t know it better.” Luna also tells Adam a lot of her past as an orphan, she even reveals her biggest secret, that she tried to kill herself, shortly before she got into space. “But why? You’re way too young to have depressions!” – “Well I was at a point in my life … there was no sense in living anymore. No one wanted to adopted me, I got bullied and I felt like everyone hates me, forced me into leaving. And I thought that maybe … if I die … I could join my parents.” – “…” Adam decides that he wants to adopt Luna, give her the love and the home she deserves and more than that. He wishes her to be happy.

After a couple of days Lunas leg finally recovered, she and Adam fly together to the garrison. Voltron arrived in the meantime and they are relived that Luna is okay and alive. But then also Adam appears and Shiro is shocked. Tears running down his face, when he sees his boyfriend, who supposed to be dead. While Shiro can’t move, Adam runs towards to him and pulling him to a hug. Adam also has tears in his eyes. “I love you, Takashi” is the only thing he can say.

Later Luna explains what happen to her and Hawk and how she met Adam. She also forced Adam and Shiro to talk with each other, calling herself “Space Cupid”. Adam and Shiro have a long talk about everything. About Kerberos, Shiro’s disease and their feeling for each other. They also talk about Luna. In the end they decide to get married after the war and adopt Luna together, they still love each other more than anything else and so they get engaged.

But there is still a war on going. I don’t know what’s going to happen in season 8, but I will tell you my idea I made up, even if this idea doesn’t fit to the real event. Well, bad bad bad Galra and everything. Voltron has to fight, blablabla, but than a big black thing appears in the space (next to earth of course), something like a wormhole but total bad and all, maybe something with the quintessence (I didn’t really think about that a lot). This black bad thing, is about to explode and destroy the whole universe. There is only one way to destroy it. Someone has to place a bomb, build by pidge and hunk inside the black thing, so it’s going to explode and vanish, before it explodes itself (doesn’t make sense, right?)

Anyways. Voltron volunteers to place the bombe inside, but the danger that they all gonna die inside, is very high. Still they want to do it, cause there is no other way. But before they can reach the black thing, they suddenly get caught by Hawk and lose the bomb. Confused about what’s going on, they yell at Luna. It takes them a minute to recognizes that Luna left Hawk and carries the bomb all alone by herself into the black wormhole. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Keith yells at her, terrified because Luna definitely will die. Voltron struggles and can’t get out of the grip of Hawk. “I’m going to save your lives, Keithy” Luna answers and enters the black thing.

A couple of minutes before, when Voltron was still flying to the thing, Luna was talking to Hawk, shutting down connection from the others. “Hey, buddy, we had a good time together, right? But I’m afraid this will be our last ride. Hawk, you have to do me a favour. They all have home, they all have family. Every one of them. Even Keith found his super cool Galra Mum. I’m so happy for him. He deserves to have a family … They have to get back on earth alive … Their families and friends … I don’t want them to suffer like me, when I lost my parents. There is a place for everyone … except me … I have no home, no family, no one who is waiting for me … beside Mascha maybe. But she will be fine. Shiro will take care of her. And you will be fine to. You are with your friends and you will find a new paladin, who you can trust … So please Hawk, do this last favour for me …”

Inside of the black wormhole, Luna is placing the bomb and starts the timer. She feels the pain, that the aura and the air inside is causing to her. Even with her helmet it’s hard to breath. Luna knows that there isn’t enough time to escape. The continuous river is keeping her in de middle. Her body starts to feel heavy and tired. Luna tries to stay awake, but her eyes shut down. “Am I dying? Does death feels like that?” her last thoughts, before she loses consciousness.

Luna thought she would die, but suddenly she feels her body again, she feels that she’s breathing, she smells the air (it smells like a hospital) and she hears noises someone’s talking and a constant beep. She feels the pain running through her body. Luna tries to open her eyes, they feel heavy. She tries again and again, until they finally open. Founding herself in a hospital room. Slowly Luna realizes that she didn’t die. She moves her head to the side and sees Shiro and Adam. They are discussing about something and didn’t recognize that Luna woke up. “Shiro?” It was here quiet, cracking voice, which turns the attention to her. Adam and Shiro’s eyes widened and both quickly get next to Luna’s bed. “You’re awake, finally!” Shiro can’t stop himself from crying. He pulls Luna carefully into a long hug. “What happened?”

With a terrified look Luna stared down the wreck, which supposed to be Hawk. Hawk saved her. He flew inside the black storm and grabbed Luna, who already passed out. With all his power Hawk managed to escape the Storm, but he didn’t get far away enough. They got caught in the explosion. Hawk got huge damage, unable to move anymore and Luna still not responding to the others. Voltron got them an brought them back on earth. They had to use violence to open Hawks mouth causing even more damage. Shiro was the first one who cradled inside Hawk, finding Luna unconscious with a lot of bad bruises and wounds, lying on the ground. Shiro first thought the was dead, but after a close look he saw her breathing. A very weak breath, but a breath. 4 days passed until Luna woke up.

Well I shouldn’t go more into detail, because my English is terrible. But yeah it turns out that Shiro is yelling a lot at Luna, cause she sacrificed herself and he thought he lost her and Luna starts to cry, cause she thought it would be the right thing, because she has no family. Well Adam steps in and tells Luna that she has a family now, cause Shiro and him love her like a daughter and they going to adopt her.

Month passed, peace is back, beside some single Galra battleship, Shiro and Adam got married and adopted Luna. Together with Coran and Hunk Luna is working on repairing Hawk, because she wants her best friend back. Everyone is happy, as a Klance shipper I say in this AU Lance und Keith get together after spending a lot of time together after war.

Oh, I have still a lot of ideas what could all happen after war, but I will leave this at this point. Maybe I will share my ideas with you another time.

If you have any questions about the AU or my character you can ask me :3

The idea of the AU!Purple Paladin belongs to me, pls don’t use it without permission and credit!

#voltron #vld #adashi #shiro #adam #klance #lance #keith #hunk #pidge #allura #coran #au!purple paladin #stupid idea #voltron legendary defender #shadam

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