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woahjo · 2 months

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The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.

The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.

When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.

Chapter Content Warnings: fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity

All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.

Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3

A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.

Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else.

The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost.

Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment.

The night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. Well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire.

It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear.

Your head is on a swivel. It has been for months. Ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. A paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. You swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters.

A branch cracks just behind you. A swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. You stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a figure a few feet away from you. They move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. Their eyes, most importantly. You can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes and the sounds that their joints make. In this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell.

You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse.

"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent.

You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight.

"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula."

The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these.

You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity.

"Do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent.

You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands.

Then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed."

He stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs.

"I didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him.

"And that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. You wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you.

"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?"

The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit."

You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane.

"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid."

"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess."

The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now.

"Got a name?" he asks.

You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?”

You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling.

"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?"

You nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat.

"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am."

He nods his understanding.

"Come with me."

"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both.

"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed."

You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost.

He scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "Look, we've got men and women," then he pauses. "Used to have children. We're not gonna hurt you. World's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?"

He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising.

"We'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than I have to."

"Okay," you say. The presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the press of fatigue even more. A gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? You must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "Do you take in a lot of strays?"

Katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase.

"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."

You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it.

The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step.

As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees.

Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you.

By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation?

"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!"

In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room.

Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him.

“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned."

The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost.

"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while."

"Well, I'm back," he says.

"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.

"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word.

"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?"

Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check."

Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.

"You must be tired.”

When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?"

"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?"

"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone."

You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell?

"Sounds like a good deal," you say.

You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock.

Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki.

"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..."

She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him.

There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.

“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you.

“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.”

Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.

"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting.

"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't."

Those listening in the group nod their affirmation.

"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?"

“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.

"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day."

The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen.

"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this."

Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it.

"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can."

You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months.

The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up.

They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit.

“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks.

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words.

“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.”

The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together.

“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.”

Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away.

—

“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.

You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”

You nod.

“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.”

She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric.

You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet.

The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks.

You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them.

You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant.

The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing.

The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge.

Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring.

There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark.

The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back.

The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit.

Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway.

Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.

The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment.

The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now.

The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner.

Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner.

“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?”

You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.”

Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.”

You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group.

“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows.

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder.

“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.”

Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina.

“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.”

Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning.

“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues.

“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.”

“Mhm,” Mina says.

“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.”

“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.”

You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy.

“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.”

“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”

“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri.

“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever.

“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.”

You swallow thick and nod a little.

“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.”

“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree.

You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from.

“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink.

“Nothing really,” Mina says.

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly.

“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?”

“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask.

“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?”

“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides.

“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.”

Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.”

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude.

“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?”

“I made it this far on my own,” you respond.

Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.”

He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting.

“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.”

“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds.

“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.”

Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in.

When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us.

—

Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation.

As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop.

Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it.

You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough.

You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago.

The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize.

“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.”

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.”

“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.

“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.”

“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?”

“No one’s fuckin’ dying.”

You recognize Katsuki’s voice.

“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.”

“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman.

“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.”

You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays.

“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?”

It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto.

“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?”

Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding.

“I did,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.”

You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg.

“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit.

“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.”

Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find.

“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts.

“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod.

Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look.

“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.”

“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen.

You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop.

“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.”

She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you.

“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.”

You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes.

You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary.

Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant.

“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.”

You listen as you eat your crackers.

“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.”

She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat.

“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.”

Mina laughs a little.

“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.”

You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile.

“You’re really forthcoming with information.”

“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers.

“Can you blame me?”

Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked.

“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.”

“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you.

This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop.

“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder.

You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down.

When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl.

It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it.

Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.

You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula.

“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper.

Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.”

His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely.

“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering.

Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners.

Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at.

Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now.

You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly.

The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask.

Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from.

These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back.

Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it.

Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it.

Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from.

Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.

Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it.

Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him.

There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up.

“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones.

“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward.

The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind.

You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks.

“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.”

“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion.

“Got everything?”

You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it.

Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers.

Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread.

You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well.

Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out.

Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe.

“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way.

“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk.

Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation.

“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says.

“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?”

“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?”

You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again.

“How long are you staying?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something.

“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?”

“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm.

She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world.

“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.”

Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way.

“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.”

The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb.

—

After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days.

You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any.

You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it.

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.

The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be.

You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source.

You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet.

“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.”

“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice.

“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.”

“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.”

The group grows quiet for a moment.

“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”

“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.

“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”

“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.”

“That’s not fair,” Ochako says.

“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?”

“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.

“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?”

“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?”

“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.”

“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?”

“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.”

“That works the other way too,” Mina adds.

You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control.

The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it.

Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect?

Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open.

You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house.

Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place.

That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal.

You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling.

—

“Need some help?” You say.

Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck.

“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?”

He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him.

The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably.

“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?”

“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.”

You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work.

You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly.

“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch.

“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively.

“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.”

“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?”

Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others.

“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.”

You tilt your head.

“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is.

“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.”

When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little.

“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-”

“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.”

Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side.

The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun.

You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable.

As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that.

You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.

As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character.

“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.

He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow.

“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task.

“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket.

“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.”

You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out.

“You’re doing laundry.”

“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?”

“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.”

“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit.

“If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.”

You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive.

You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick.

Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering.

“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence.

Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace.

“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.”

“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid.

You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little.

“Were you?”

“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you.

“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.”

He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway.

You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh.

He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?”

“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?”

“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.”

“She’s pretty,” you say.

“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.”

“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you.

“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little.

There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant.

“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?”

You’re leaning a little closer to him now.

“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused.

“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little.

Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry.

“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.”

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food.

Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him.

It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.

Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into.

You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you.

The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both.

Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position.

“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet.

“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.”

You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope.

“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.”

The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes.

Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier.

The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house.

Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel.

“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better.

“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator.

Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?”

You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in.

“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”

Click Here to go to the second chapter and find the rest of the series on ao3. The remainder will not be posted on tumlbr, but please feel free to reblog!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader smut #mha smut #bakugou fanfiction #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #apocalypse au #tw.violence #tw.blood #tw.loss of identity #tw.derealization #tw.depersonalization #tw.exhaustion #cal.writing #char.bakugou

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certifiedwhore4slashers · 1 year

Text

If I can’t have you, no one can

pairing(s): ethan landry x fem!reader, slight oc x reader

summary: your boyfriend is murdered only to find out your best friend was the killer.

warnings: yandere-ish themes, obsession, murder, yandere behavior, gore, blood, violence, knife violence, toxicity, scream vi spoilers, stalking, etc…

part 2?

“It’s Halloween, and you know what that means? Your boyfriend smirks. “Mhm, we’re obviously watching the classic Halloween! Michael Myers any day! You smile.

He chuckled.”I’m going to make popcorn.” He kissed you and you kiss back. You’ve been with your boyfriend, Daniel for almost eight months now and you couldn’t be happier.

You met him shortly after moving to New York which happened not long after the massacre that took away your friends by Amber and Richie. God did you hate them so much but karma got them in the end.

You missed Dewey, Wes and Liv so much but there wasn’t anything you could do. You met your new friends not that long after moving with Mindy, Chad, Sam and Tara for College. You enjoyed university.

Suddenly, You remember You specifically told your best friend, Ethan you'd go to that frat party. "Crap, I just remembered, You frown. "I promised Ethan i'd go to that party. But you know, I never spend much time with you anymore. I should just message him."

Daniel smiles. "Okay. Nice of you to at least inform him." You nodded. You were super close, though kind of obvious Daniel seemed kind of jealous of your best friend. You found that funny since Ethan obviously liked Tara. "Okay, I messaged him, You said, unpausing your movie.

Living in New York was so much better than Woodsboro. By now, it became a tourist attraction. When Ethan messaged you back, you felt kind of bad since he seemed disappointed but nonetheless you usually constantly spent time with Ethan so the guilt vanished.

You got closer to Daniel as you two cuddled while watching Halloween, Candy, Soda and Popcorn. However something felt off. Not between either of you but something just wasn’t right.

You suddenly pause the movie. “Hey, Is everything okay, y/n? Daniel asks. “No, Something’s off, you say nervously.

“Hm, do you want me to check it out? He asks, concern in his voice. “No, I don’t hear anything I just… you say before being interrupted by a phone ringing.

“Is it you? You ask. He nods.”Unknown Number.” “Don’t answer! You say, knowing how it always ended. “Okay, He says.”Just stay close to me okay?”

You nod as you continue watching the movie cuddling him despite your gut instincts telling you that something was off.

It had been for a while, since you knew someone had been watching you, following you, for a while. Perhaps a new Ghostface or Crazy Fan of the Stab Movies, But you didn’t know for sure.

You couldn’t let your boyfriend die. Not under the hands of Ghostface. Not ever. Your phone rings. Unknown Number. But, You figured you could be okay. You answer. "Hello? You say, walking in your room.

"Hello Y/N. I missed hearing your voice."

"... What do you want from me?"

"You. However, Your Boyfriend won't be so lucky."

"No, Please don't hurt him! I'll do anything!"

"Anything?"

"Yes."

Suddenly, the caller hangs up and you come back. Your Boyfriend is worried. "Y/n, who were you talking to? He asks. "We have other things we should worry about, Maybe You should go home, You suggested.

"No, I'm not leaving you, Y/N! Daniel insisted. "Just what is-" Suddenly, someone came up from behind him, stabbing him right in the back, He groans. You were face to face with Ghostface. Your Boyfriend was still alive. "No! You said, trying to stop him but he was stronger.

Shoving you very roughly to the side, You fell and could only watch. You weren't going to be murdered. No, You'd be fine, but your boyfriend. "Daniel! You cried, closing your eyes while he screamed, you heard him being stabbed multiple times.

Then, it stopped. You opened your eyes. Your Boyfriend, dead and drenched in blood. His blood. you sobbed, Ghostface coming closer, now in front of you. Hovering over you while he tilted his head.

You whimper in fear while you scoot back, but he kept coming closer. "I'm not going to hurt you, Y/N, Ghostface spoke. You kind of recognized his voice.

"Do I know you... You said, softly. He nods. Your legs hurt while you slowly get up. Your face wet from crying. Your movie still paused. Your boyfriend’s lifeless body. You couldn't help but run. He may not kill you, but still would hurt you. You didn't believe his words. Not one bit.

You quickly open your apartment door and bolt. Ghostface following behind you. What made you so important? There was nothing really. You were an ordinary citizen and Ghostface could’ve killed you easily.

“You can’t run.”

It walked slowly as if not even trying. But that was because he was so confident in getting you. Murdering your boyfriend? That didn’t make you want him.

He must’ve been your stalker. It all made sense. You’d be his next victim. His Final Girl, Or whatever. You didn’t know. But he didn’t try to klll you. He was there for Daniel. Not you. That didn’t make you feel any safer or relieved. In fact a lot worse.

You shouldn’t been killed along with him. Then you’d be with him now. Little did you know, He was right behind you, quickly grabbing you, you fell and groaned as he dragged you right back to your apartment.

You noted that he was strong. And you groan in pain as you know you were having an nosebleed. “You look good in red, Ghostface said.

“Who are you, you fucking bastard! You yell. “Glad you asked, ghostface said. Ghostface pulled off his mask and your eyes widen.

“Surprise, Y/N.”

It was your best friend, Ethan. Who was shy, sweet and nervous. But it made sense. Who’d suspect the kind, shy guy?

You didn’t want to cry. He comes closer. “Hey, don’t cry, he cooed. Though what does it do for you. You shove him back. “Stay away from me! You say.”I can’t believe you. You were at the party.”

“I was, and well, then I just had to come over, Ethan laughs.”Your Bastard boyfriend stole you away from me. But now… he’s out of the way.”

“I don’t like you like that, You say, backing away.”Even if I didn’t have a boyfriend.” “That doesn’t matter, Because I’m not letting you go, not anymore, He says.

And when you were backed into the corner, You knew that you were fucked. Really fucked.

#scream x reader #scream vi #scream 6 x reader #ethan landry #yandere #ghostface x reader #tw yandere #ethan landry x reader #female!reader #scream vi x reader

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rowretro · 1 month

Note

If your requests are open, can I get hard yandere Jake or Ni-Ki where they punish reader for escaping and staying with one of their friends?

𝕺𝖍 𝖒𝖞 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌…

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, mentions of blood, manipulation(?), shirtless-ish riki, somewhat gore, mentions of sex

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

"Oh my sweet little y/n... I knew you were stupid but for you to be this stupid?!..." Riki tutted, a mocking pout on his lips, his shirt drenched with the blood of someone you called a friend. He barely knew you, yet he befriended you just because he knew you were in the danger of Riki. Your stupid self just had to believe Riki wouldn't know that the motherfucker would be keeping you in his house.

He was pissed. No he was beyond pissed, words can not explain how bad of a decision she made. Riki wasn't too into murdering people or ripping them apart, but for her? god a little blood on his hands was nothing let alone stabbing a dagger with her name encrypted into this so called friend of hers? heck he could even leave the body out because not even a family member was there to want him.

"Oh well... he lived a miserable life anyway.... this was your fault y/n. You know better than to trust a strangers word over mine. Fuck the fact you trusted another man. went into his house. wore his shirt. AND FUCKING LEFT ME?!" He finally yelled causing her to flinch, he stabbed him crazily as you screamed for him to stop, tears streaming down her cheeks. "STOP CRYING FOR HIM!" he screamed, slapping her painfully on her cheek.

he knelt down before her dark eyes, peircing into her as he groaned, he threw off his shirt "Mother fucker got his filthy blood all over my comfortable t-shirt. The one you should be wearing right now." he sharply said. The man was pissed. He slapped her yet again, ripping off the T-shirt she wore as she carried her and dropped her in the bathtub.

He didn't care that it was hurting her, he turned the tap on as he applied soap to the sponge and aggressively rubbed on her skin. "I know you wouldn't sleep with him. But you still hugged him. You still went in his house and sat on his rubbish sofa. Fuck imagine all the germs in that shithole you went to." He spat as he chucked the sponge at her and yanked her hair. "Clean yourself up and go to bed." He simply said before leaving the restroom.

"Oh no... I hurt my poor y/n oh sweetie... You need to know what you did is awful... you need to feel the pain I did... but I won't make it hurt as much as you hurt me because I love you... you can tell me anything.... did you have sex with this fucker?! is that why you're wearing his ugly shirt?!!!" Riki asked, as She stared in horror, and disgust. Riki chuckled

That very night, was the first time Riki hurt her, though it hurt him more to hurt her. He stepped out of the shower, smiling as he saw Y/n sitting on his bed, wearing his sweater, how it fell just off of her shoulder, her tears gone as she reached out to hug him, she just needed comfort... and she accepted her fate.

"So cute, I know you won't do something like that with some low life... awww my sweet innocent y/nie, so vulnerable and gullible, sweetheart, he's a pervert, he lied to you, he did this so he can use your precious body. You know I've never done and never will do that you know why? because I love you..." Riki explained as he cradled her in his arms.

He palnted soft kisses on her face "Oh my poor darling y/n... don't ever leave me... I can't live without you!" He said as Y/n placed a soft kiss on his plump lips, giving into his toxic love. She can't help it though... isn't it a good thing that he'd even kill for her?.... so many men have only hurt her, humiliated her or wanted to hook up with her but Riki... Riki loves her...

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

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cowgirlcherrie · 10 months

Text

georgia canned peaches — ⋆｡°✩ 🐎 cowboy! ellie

pairing: cowboy! hitwoman! ellie x black! fem! reader. wc: 5.0K

synopsis: on the run was Tennessee’s peach, who trades a life of discomfort for security with a Texan stranger

warnings: 18+, MDNI! mommy issues, slight religious trauma if you squint, heavy touching, ellie has an accent, mentions of death and loneliness, heavily inspired by Bones and All ( minus the c*nnibalism and gore), dom! ellie, domestic! ellie, heavy use of petnames (peach, sweetness, sugar, doll), stranger danger lowkk…, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, mentions of weapons, killing, black feminine coded reader, running away, taking care of injuries, injured ellie (so mention of blood, bleeding),

━━━ ♪ peach & georgia by kevin abstract

a/n: heyy everyone!! here's a quick lengthy one-shot for cowboy-ish Ellie! if you enjoy it babis my ask button is open and I'm always accepting requests if you want headcanons, etc, but enjoy!! ⊹˚. ♡⊹˚. ♡

✧˖°.

Mama didn’t raise no bitch! Or a conniving little thief either.

You tested that theory. Your hands became sticky with anything remotely flashy. Perhaps that was how you found out how to survive on your own. Times like this you wondered where you would be if your mama had just been a perfect Mary Sue. Made dinner, taught you how to wash your clothes and braid your hair, tucked you in at night, and just maybe taught you how to be better than a man. But now you were alone, in the hot Texan heat, and it felt like a smack to the face. Similar to her handprint the night she let you loose and hissed that you are on your own. You didn’t wanna cover the bills anymore or hear her bullcrap about how it was Adam and Eve — not Eve and Eve. You grew tired, and so did your feet that seemed to get you as far as you were now. Perhaps it wasn’t smart to smash your piggy bank taking the $500 dollars you spent bussing tables to go and a messenger duffle that could fit 3 heads. No plan either, which was significantly negligent, but your sticky fingers got you farther than you ever could, and they made sure you were fed.

That would explain why you were stealing in a gas station grocery. Crouched by the nonperishables stuffing anything and everything into the duffle bag. Georgia peaches, check. Canned pineapple, check. Dried beans and nuts, double-check. You weren’t exactly careful, but the place loomed with unfamiliar faces who certainly were too full of themselves to stop you. So you kept going, a first aid kit for the bruises that were forming on your knees and sewing material to fix the rip in your jacket. Well not your jacket, but your dad's jacket. Brown thick cotton over your shoulders to cover the long dress you were in, it was a smart decision. The jacket kept you warm on the desert nights, and it made home in your hands during the day. The little pockets are perfect for stuffing loads of crap you don’t need. With the crack of another can hitting the floor, it paralleled a shiny brown boot. Drenched in leather and gold detailing as it smacked the tile. Left foot – right foot – left again. Your eyes followed the trail of feet, ignoring the can that rolled away from you as a hand reached down to pick it up. A roughened, bloody, feminine freckled hand. Now the mystery girl was looming over your figure, in an authoritative stance, as if her ego had been bigger than her height itself. But she was also bleeding. Her right arm clenched to her hip as blood seeped between her fingers.

“Yers’ drop somethin’ peach?” The accent sent a shiver up your spine. It was thick and unfamiliar but maybe the word peach, at the end masked her roughness. You now made eye contact with the girl, green eyes looming into yours as you shakily took the can of peaches.

“M’sorry that was my bad,” you mumbled taking the peaches back and tucking them into your chest. You couldn’t slip it back into your bag now, next thing you know she would yell THIEF! and drag you by your collar to the front counter. But the woman was in such poor shape to do so, her freckled face wincing ever so slightly with every movement her body made. She was a cowgirl, you’ve heard all about them in the papers but didn’t take them for the real deal. Her hat told you all you need to know, brown to match her thick belt and blue bell bottoms. Oh, she was the real deal.

“Could ya be a doll n’ grab me a kit” The woman groaned out, pushing her body weight in front of you. Her standing position contrasted yours that was crouched down, at eye level with the material. “You’s a real catch ya know? Put the peaches back in. I know you were stealin’” This made you freeze. Fuck!Fuck!Fuck! Your brain shouted you were screwed.

Your hands now moved slower reaching for the kit in front of you, and you suddenly realized how overly close the woman was to you. Almost blocking your field of vision from anything to your left. You ignored her statement, as you shakily lifted the first aid kit to her hands.

“Peach…you are a delight, but now you listen,” The woman didn’t take the kit, “A camera has been pointed at ya for the past 5, and now you got Tina’ at counter watchin’ ya. You are gonna live up to bein’ delightful and pay for this one thing” The woman was scrounging in her pocket and you took the moment of silence to think to yourself, you had barely any money. $500 was something you needed to make stretch.

“What?”

“I don’ take you for a fool, I’m Ellie, and I mean no harm.” Ellie took off her hat placing it over the left side of her chest at her heart, giving you a simple nod before putting the dusted brown hat back on her head. Ellie this time put a stained $10 bill on top of the first aid kit that had been suspended in the air by your hand. This action made you stand up – eye level with this time. Noticed the girl has a height to her, her figure looming over you as you stood.

“Give me the bag [what?] your bag sweetness! we don’t got all day, dammit I’m hurt” Ellie stated bluntly. There was no more time for jokes or stealing any more Georgia canned peaches. There were better things to worry about. Like the fact that you can go to jail for stealing and Ellie who was bleeding out in front of you. You slid your brown bag off your shoulder handing it to Ellie who swung it over her left shoulder.

“Go see Tina with ‘er blonde hair, act sweet, say your visitin’ family. If they ask, say the Williams Ranch, she’ll give you no hard time” Ellie started as she was giving you instructions, “When ya finish, keep the change, meet me at my car I’ll be outside. You get your bag – I fix my wound, and you get the fuck outta town.” Ellie finished. This time her look was stern, and aggressive as if she was testing you. Testing your loyalty, your honesty, your act. She wanted to see how you worked under pressure, she wanted you to suffocate from fear. All you could do is nod, swallowing harshly, as Ellie turned her body walking down the Isle to your left.

You took the initiative to make your way to ‘Tina’. Ellie was right, the blonde had been suspicious of you. Asked you all the questions that Ellie said she would, but she backed off once you mentioned the Williams Ranch. Handing you the exact change of 0.50 cents and a hospitable smile, saying “Have a great day.” Tina’s defensiveness changed with one simple title. This made you wonder how much authority Ellie had over the place, questions flooding through your brain as you pushed the door and walked out, being met with the setting sun.

The sun was getting low, and there wouldn’t be a motel for another mile out. Sure you could do the walk but you weren’t guaranteed anything. A whistle brought you out of your trance, belonging to Ellie who this time had a toothpick between her cushioned pink lips, as her body leaned against a ran down red car, with muddied wheels. You jogged over this time seeing that your bag was missing from her shoulders rather this time in the passenger seat of her car.

“Here you go, what you asked.” You pushed the first aid kit into her hands like you’d done back in the store. Ellie mumbled a thank you, as she nibbled on the toothpick. This time, taking the kit and putting it on the hood of the car.

“Yous’ as quiet as a mouse, but orders ya take well…Peach could you help me patch up, I ensure you a place to stay and food in return – all comfort no lies…” It took you time to think about it. What did people call this…southern hospitality? She was sweet to you despite not really knowing you but the situation was still tit for tat. You do for me, I do for you. Wax on, Wax off. You weren’t gonna say no to a place to crash, where you didn’t have to worry about the faucet being broken or water barely coming out because the bill wasn’t paid. You were certain her bills were paid.

“Yes, please…uh thank you!” You exclaimed as you began to dig through the box, taking out a bottle of water from your coat pocket, also stolen using it as a hand wash and something to clean the area, temporarily where the wound is. “doncha thank me just yet, you’re just getting started, peach.”

Ellie was surprisingly still gentle with you, taking her time to crouch into the backseat of the car, while you sat next to her with the kit on the center console. Ellie took her time to untuck the white button-down shirt, as her hands shakily fiddled with the buttons. Due time, her snail speed started to irritate you making you smack her hands away doing it yourself. The exchange was silent, but you preferred it to keep the awkwardness at bay. Ellie shook off her white button down, leaving her in a white tank top — Ellie this time took the initiative to roll the tank top up to right below her boobs allowing you to wince at the large gash on her hip.

“Holy Sh—”

“I wouldn’t say that—”

“Not my first Rodeo” Ellie continued as you poured water on the wound making Ellie grit her teeth. Tilting her head back as whimpers left her mouth at the sudden coldness. All of it was hard to do when you’re in the back of a car trying to patch up a borderline dead woman. But before you could ask any questions, Ellie took the initiative to do it herself.

“W-Where you headed, whats yer’ story?” Ellie grimaced through the pain as she held her head against the headrest, pants escaping her lips at an alarming rate. “God…I’m sorry,” You hesitated, you couldn’t even answer one simple question, your hands shaking at the blood that was covering your hands as it just wasn’t slowing down.

“Jeez– I hope a lil’ blood don’t scare you peach, I woulda done it myself baby,” Ellie hissed, trying to stay moderately sweet as she was now gripping onto the door handle, her right hand finding its way to your thigh, squeezing for the endless support. That’s when you noticed her tattoo, a death’s-head hawkmoth, and vines. Beautiful, yet chaotic, she had a story. Ellie squeezed again your thigh again making you look back at her. “Eyes up here baby [sorry] where [shit] ya’ from?” You couldn’t lie, the rifle at the back of her car taunting you. If she wanted to kill you she certainly would have done it by now. She wasn’t a threat, and she proved that in the store.

“I’m from Tennessee, I’ve been traveling on foot. I’m runnin’ away” You confessed as Ellie nodded her head in response, Your accent was slight, barely noticeable making more sense in Ellie’s head at why you struck her as different. Your beautiful brown skin glowing under the setting sun, you were a beauty to her. “Figured, how old?” Ellie questioned as you continued to stay frozen, eyes on her face to continue the conversation. “21” Ellie nodded again.

“Thought so, 22” Ellie responded. There it was again, the tit for tat.

“You seem like a good girl, far away from home aren’t cha. What’s wrong with yer family? Perhaps your mama?” Ellie tilted her head watching as your face transitioned from bliss and tranquility to fear and panic. She knew she struck a nerve, your mama was the problem. She didn’t wanna pressure you, hell it didn’t matter now. You were on your own, like a scared little lamb that has been deterred from its family. Possibly you were the black sheep, different from the rest. Ellie, once again, didn’t wanna pressure you.

“You look like you need someone to take care of ya, don’t worry Peach I’ll take care of you” Ellie whispered, her voice all velvety like icing a chocolate cake. Smooth and sweet with care and caress. Ellie was unlike others you’ve met. Or any ex-lover you had. This time you weren’t afraid to let her in or take care of you. Hell you wanted that, you’ve been craving it for all years of your life while you had to do it for others. Maybe it was time someone exchanged the favor. The good karma bell rang in your ears, as a smile tugged at your lips.

“Make sure you cared for, if you let me” Ellie whispered some more, her hands this time traveling to your waist, giving a gentle squeeze, to which you could only hum in response. She was a charmer and knew all the right words to get you sunken in with her. Mama always said to not trust strangers, but why didn’t she feel like one? Her scent was intoxicating all you wanted to do was lean down and sink your pointed fangs into her shoulder, hearing her cry of satisfaction while she continued to call you Peach. Peach…Peach…Peach. You liked that name, no one called you that but considering that's what she handed you when you first spoke, it didn’t run as a surprise.

Ellie squeezed, “Words, sweetness?”

“Yes” you squeaked, which probably sounded oddly sexual now that you thought about it. Unholy thoughts plague your brain at the sight of the Texas beauty in front of you. Realizing your task still was unfinished you got back to work. Hands working fast as you took your time, threading the suture thread through the needle as it came in contact with the flesh that was Ellie’s loose and separated skin.

Ellie wincing as you dug the needle in, and back out with an exhale. It was a semi-shitty stitching job, but you were able to tightly close the wound and stop the bleeding. Ellie didn’t speak, considering she’d risk completely yelling every curse word and potentially scaring you off, she settled on biting the hem of her tank top instead. Thick black lashes coated with tears at the sudden pain and blood crust. You were gentle though, Ellie caressing your waist as you put down a gauze pad, followed by wrapping it with the gauze roll and securing it with the adhesive tape. Patting to let her know that you were finished.

“Yer’ such a good girl you know?” Ellie cooed as her hands found their way up to your braids, bringing your head down so she can give a chaste kiss to your head. Right…Right… Southern Hospitality. The feeling almost made you cry. Praise, followed up with affection? Like nothing you have felt before – hell you only thought they did that in movies. Ellie, however, was like a movie. Purley a fever dream, you were scared to fall asleep, what if you imagined the whole thing? You were enjoying your runaway escapades too much for it all to be fake.

“Let’s get the show on the road,” Ellie gave a smile, making her way out of the back, suggesting that you do the same. So much for not trusting strangers.

✧˖°.

Father, Forgive me for I have sinned… it was blurry

As we forgive our trespassers…still blurry

Trespassers…clear

You were a trespasser, is what you were getting from Ellie’s narration. Over the 30-minute car ride to her Farmhouse, Ellie explained to you the whole ordeal. Her cowboy hat was on your head as you listened to her tell narration of the cowboys' sealant for the townspeople. Why Tina, at the gas station tried to make you a friend. This Texan desert, farmland was constructed with the passage that cowboys and cowboy decedents protect the townspeople from narcs and trespassers, which in this case you could have been either. Debunked neither. It was one of those towns that people suggest you pass, hell probably inquire why it's still on the fucking map.

Ellie confessed that she was also a trespasser, just like you. Taken in by her late found father Joel who showed her how to run the rodeo. How Millers Ranch, became Williams Ranch. It was impressive, your eyes gleaming with admiration. Then it hit you, why she had the shotgun she did bounties on narcs, drug smugglers, the whole ordeal. People who came in to steal, wreak havoc, and destroy the peace. She was the town's grim reaper. She was the one who knocks. You felt faint, as the realization knocked into you like a brick. Nothing was truly sweet about her, that accent was to mask how with one click she’ll hunt like they were rabbits. You were trapped in her cage.

Upon arriving at her farmhouse which was large enough for more than one, it made you sad to see. She was alone, by herself. No wonder it was easy for her to drag you into her company, human interaction seemed obsolete out here. A dim light shown from what you assumed to be the horse stable, that was rather quiet as the nightfall had put you at ease. You held your jacket to your body tighter at the sudden gust of wind, hearing the weeds brush against each other — almost screaming in the wind. You held tightly onto your bag while Ellie limped past you, with the white button-down rested over one shoulder. Fiddling with the keys in her pocket.

“Shoes off at the door, watch your step,” Ellie spoke up as she opened the door, you were hit with the sudden aroma, it smelled like fresh wood, pine, and just a hint of freshly baked cookies. It was how you pictured going to visit your grandmothers to be. Warm and welcoming. Complying with her wishes, you took your boots off, leaving you in mix-matched socks with funky designs that you have bought out of quirkiness. Ellie found this amusing. White ones to contrast your colors, the two of you had a lot of differences. But for the lack of similarities came an understanding. A mutual grounding between the two of you. A grey area. Ellie was behind you this time, taking her hat off your head, hooking it onto the wall, your thick jacket as well, and placing it on the hook beneath it.

“Welcome, home”

Now that made your stomach curl, you didn’t know what home is, besides yourself and your belongings. Attaching your home to people, not places. It was a wave of worry and fear that hit you. Your feet stuck as it felt like someone took a hammer and nailed your feed to the wooden floors. It was lively and well-decorated for someone that lived alone. Breaking free from your sinking feet you started to observe the living space. There was art, tones of it, stumbling across a photo in the bookcase of a much younger Ellie and an older man with salt and pepper hair who you had presumed to be Joel. The name fit his face well, A small smile creeping up to your face at the closeness of the two. Ellie seemed happy – carefree now that you look at her, that happiness seemed sucked away from her life, she didn’t smile quite like that anymore. Not until you cracked jokes in her car and made her laugh.

“Ya thirsty peach?” Ellie questioned her voice coming out muffled as her figure was far away in the kitchen area, hearing as the refrigerator closed. “I’m good, thank you though.” You put the photo back where you found it, following the trail of her voice. She was very trusting for a stranger, you were already infatuated with the woman, yearning for more. Yearning for her to give you a taste or perhaps a touch. Now you were sitting on her marble countertop, placed there by Ellie as she moved quickly around the kitchen pouring herself a glass of water from the glass pitcher, drowning it all in one go. She wiped the falling water around her mouth with the back of her arm eyeing you in the process, Ellie laughed. You knew her for a short amount of time, but long enough to know that laughter from her was rare – take it as a compliment, you thought.

Ellie made her way over to you, her hands now on your knees, moving them further apart as she pushed her body in between her legs. Her arms resting on the counter space behind you, trapping you in her arms.

“Mama didn’t teach you no good...to trust strangers? Oh…Babygirl you’re dangerous” Ellie scolded, laughing as you give the girl a doe-eyed look – your hands finding a home on her arms. Wrapping your hands around her biceps, as your thumb move up, down, and in a circle.

“I figured if you were gonna kill me, you already would have done so.” You mumbled as Ellie’s face got a lot closer to yours now. You can see the freckles that decorated her cheeks, her hydrated pink lips from the water she just had, the slit in her eyebrow, and her eyes. The piercing green forest that was her eyes, but it was beautiful, reminded you of the trees that you had seen when you walked. The storm that was your life, before Ellie became your superhero, the knight in shining armor. She saved you, and you owed her big time.

“Bingo! I know you smart peach, and that’s why imma tell you once, listen t’me real good.” Ellie specified, bringing one arm up to grip your chin gently, not allowing you to look anywhere else but herself. Ellie seemed possessive, maybe she lost too many people or her lack of social interaction but she didn’t want to let you go, and you could tell. She needed you just as much as you needed her, a packaged deal.

“You don’ trust nobody that ain’t me.” Ellie began, “Someone’s overly nice to ya’ you tell me. Mean? You fuckin’ tell me. Both don’t fly with me baby, if it ain't from me” Ellie finished, letting go of your jaw to which you nodded. Ellie was a fuckin’ force to be reckoned with, It was like digging into a mystery box, you were unsure of the flavors and layers she had to herself. Hell, she could be manipulating you and you wouldn’t even notice. Hospitality for comfort or comfort for hospitality, it all looked the same.

“Ay Ay, captain!” You playfully military saluted the girl, making Ellie roll her eyes at your statement, you were exceptionally fun. Which Ellie didn’t have anymore...fun. If you classify a night at Typsy Bison as fun then so be it. “You hungry? I can run you a shower before you eat – it’s leftovers if that's alright with yourself?” Ellie questioned and that’s when it hit you, you’ve been traveling afoot all day, and the thought of even having a meal slipped your mind, but you were famished, stomach lightly growling at the mention of the word food.

“I could use food, yeah — as long as there’s no cheese.” You challenge making Ellie back away this time as she took out a glass plate, a fork, and a knife. “No cheese sugar, but something to get you settled – I always have dessert peach if you want that instead?” Now you felt like a kid in a candy store. Dessert was a rarity and boy did it sound delightful right now. Ellie smiled as she watched the way your eyes gleamed at the mention of dessert.

“Got a sweet tooth huh?” Ellie smiled, making you laugh in return. You did have a sweet tooth, anything sweet was enough to bring a smile to your face. That’s why you had a love for canned peaches. The taste reminded you of peach pie that you would get at the diner as you worked a closing shift. Sitting at a booth as you devoured a piece of peach pie, it was heated, like a warm hug in the winter. You cried every time you had a piece. It reminded you of all the good things in life – like how good your mother could be.

“I hope you have pie” you pleaded, making Ellie nod her head. “You aren’t pressin’ yer luck! I got an apple pie from a good friend of mine, I think you’ll love it – not too sweet, but fillin’” Ellie smirks in satisfaction as she placed one hand on her hip.

“Let’s run’ya a shower”

✧˖°.

How were you supposed to explain to Ellie why you were crying? Pajamas that you stored in your bag resting on your body as the matching white tank top and light blue shorts attached to your frame — you just had the best shower you’ve ever had in a while. Not only was the water hot, but it didn’t cut out every five minutes, and the faucet wasn’t leaking, everything was comfortable, perfect. Ellie herself took the time you were in the shower to clean up herself, now in different clothing — a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants that clung to her body nicely. The two of you sitting at the dining table as Ellie watched you eat the warmed pie, a tear fell from your eye with swiftness. Ellie’s gentle gaze transitioned into confusion and eventually fear as she watched you cry.

“Oh god, wait!... I’m sorry” you laughed in between sniffles, taking the back of your hand to rub your face.

“Jeez, I thought I did somethin’ sugar” Ellie exaggerated holding her hand over her heart as if someone pierced an arrow through it. Now it was your turn to reveal your story, like how you cried every time you ate pie, specifically with peaches. It made Ellie give a small grin. Feeling as though she did something right in her life where she wasn’t playing god, It was wholesome that’s for sure. The redhead found it odd, but it was a sweet moment and she understood it. Ellie’s smile fell when she noticed the clock behind your head striking 10:30pm making her frown. The good times she was having at the moment were coming to an end, for both her and yourself.

“You go’n watch the tv til your tired, I have some business to take care of before tomorrow” Ellie didn’t wanna scare you, her business was taking the grey cloth, as she wiped down her guns and reloaded them for tomorrow. She didn’t want to give you the wrong impression.

“Can you watch it with me?” You inquired, ignoring the part where she said she had business.

“I’m cleaning guns.”

“So? You don’t scare me cowgirl” You wiggled your eyebrows as Ellie snatched the empty plate from your hands, placing it in the sink as she let the sponge soap up to wash the plate clean with hot water.

“Fine. I see you jump – I’m goin’ to another room, I don’t mix business with pleasure” Ellie confessed as she was less focused on you this time. You chose this time to leave the dining area, entering the living room as you hit the squared television's 'ON' button. It was small and run down, similar to the one at your moms before you left. You pulled at the antenna to catch a signal. The static glitching before on came Looney Tunes. You enjoyed the show finding amusement in the animals chasing each other and the crescendo of the music at all the right moments, it was comical and amusing. You spread your body out on the couch, laying on your side as you watched the television in silence, laughing every few minutes at something that you found funny. Ellie walked into the room with a black box and 3 guns in her hand. The redhead gently settled down the weaponry, being careful not to startle you, as she slipped into the seat on the far left — your legs now found a home in her lap, Ellie gently sending a rub at your legs. If someone walked right in, they would assume the two of you were probably married for some years now.

“This okay?” Ellie whispered as you mumbled a “yes” while your focus was still not on her. Ellie could see that you were getting tired, the way your eyes were low, and your breathing slowed down. You were at peace with yourself and with Ellie, this was one of the times when the silence was okay, a mutual serenity, and understanding — everyone was mindful of each other and it was pure love and bliss.

Ellie eyed your figure as your eyes fluttered shut, this time you were sleeping, fully this time letting yourself melt into the softness of the couch as Ellie reached over to her left to grab the blanket and drape it over your sleeping figure. This was also the time she finally got started on cleaning her guns, knowing that you were relaxed and cared for. Ellie wasn’t sure what she was doing, She felt vulnerable and that was rare, but she was doing what she said she would. Taking care of you, like you were taking care of her. You saved her life, and she saved yours, tit for tat.

Ellie in this moment craved nothing more than your lips on hers, perhaps your teeth to graze her flesh, biting…hard into her – wanting to connect and morph bodies. She craved for your love and your intimacy, she wanted you to love her bones and all. Ellie wanted you to love her past, her insecurities, her mistakes, and her wrongs. You were too good for her, she knew it, but there was nothing a sweet peach like you couldn’t fix.

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sungbeam · 6 months

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𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐒 — part one (i – vii)

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

your sister's dead, but apparently that's not the most shocking news. maybe she wasn't killed on accident, maybe ji changmin isn't really human, and maybe the monsters were never under the bed but all around you...

▷ genre, warnings. strangers 2 reluctant allies/friends 2 lovers, slow burn, demon/supernatural creatures au, angst, action, murder mystery-ish au, forced proximity trope, suspense, gore, depictions of violence and blood, themes of death and grief, use/description of weaponry, swearing, a slightly unreliable narrator bc she has no idea what's happening, reader's sister is dead, mentions of stalking, humor bc coping mechanisms, reader has hair long enough to braid sorry, blood drinking, the barest of proofreading and editing done...

▷ part word count. 22.3k words / 47.4k - read part two here

▷ associated songs. teeth (5sos), wet nightmare (bibi)

a/n: i tried to make it scary I SWEAR but changmin brings the clown out of me 🤥 anyways i ripped a chunk of my heart out and im serving it to you bloodied on a gold platter, i hope u love her :') read the warnings ofc and lmk your thoughts <3 also i completely gave up on wrestling w blr so im dropping it in two parts, but both of them at once 🤣 pray for me.

#1—NEXT OF KIN.

THEY TOLD YOU YOUR SISTER'S DEATH WAS AN ACCIDENT, they being the authorities who had shown up at the front door of your apartment with their caps in hand, solemn faces pressed into lines that you could not read between. The world had fallen out from beneath your feet like someone had just yanked the carpet out, and you hadn't yet stopped falling.

The funeral was set on the rolling green hills of Elysium Memorial Park, the cemetery where your parents were buried, where your grandparents were buried, and now, where your sister joined them six feet under. Generations ago, your grandparents had purchased plots for themselves and their future family members while the land was cheap. When it came for your time to leave this mortal coil behind, you too would join them in the dirt of Elysium. It almost seemed right that the sky had opened up to reveal a blindingly hot sun, not a cloud to be seen in the sky. Perhaps the sky would not weep for your sister, but celebrate her life instead.

But while the heavens above would shed nary a tear, you could make up for that loss yourself. Having little to no living relatives left, you had been expected to take responsibility for all the arrangements, all while grieving, all while studying, all while trying to not fall apart some more. You were holding it together by the zipper of your dress pants and the caffeine from your coffee. You couldn't stop crying for the entire service, the forced silence of your cries balanced by the violent tremors in your shoulders.

Your sister Sena's patch in the land was now marked by a heaping pile of dirt. She had a lot of friends—most of whom gathered behind you and had thrown their flowers upon the dirt hill. You had a few distant relatives as well who you'd managed to remember (somehow) amongst all the madness. A couple of them were able to fly out for the event, but most had to decline.

When you heard your name being called, you drew your blazer sleeve over your eyes in a futile attempt to dry them.

Walking towards you now was a couple, middle-aged, dressed in black from head to toe, not far from how you looked right now. You knew them from about a week ago when they had sought you out after the news of your sister's death spread.

You hadn't the heart to sue them when they confessed who they were. It's our fault, they told you in the quiet of the hallway outside your apartment, we're so sorry. We understand if you'd like to press charges.

Sena was a victim of an automobile accident. You didn't know the entire story—was too tired for the whole story—just shocked she was even in the country. She was supposed to be across the world for a study abroad program, but why was she discovered on the side of the road, a few towns over, inebriated and dead? She became nothing more than roadkill and a statistic in death, and maybe that was why you were so bitter.

"Yn, it was a beautiful ceremony," said the woman—Julia, she had introduced herself as that week ago. Her nose was reddened from the friction of tissue paper, her eyes damp and glittering in the sunlight. "I'm sorry you—that you have to deal with all the pomp and circumstance."

"We know you deserve your time alone," joined her husband, Carter. He tucked his hands into his pockets, mustering up a smile for your sake, but you could still see the guilt flooding his eyes with water. "We just wanted to say thank you for letting us come and pay our respects."

And for not pressing charges. But you dashed that thought away. That was the bitterness talking, but these were good people. They had come forward and been honest, and it wasn't their fault Sena was drunk. (Why in the world was she drunk and here and why didn't she tell you the truth—?)

"Thank you for coming," you replied, "I wasn't sure if you would take me up on the offer, to be honest."

You wrapped up conversation with the couple and watched them depart across the grassy hills toward their car. Your eyes surveyed the last bits of the lingering crowd for familiar faces—anyone at all. But all you found were strangers.

These were all Sena's friends, after all. She had always been the more adventurous of the two of you.

You sighed and resigned yourself to start looking for the funeral coordinator to discuss payment and the like. Though the event was over the worst was just beginning. There was so much to do, and so little energy left to perform them.

But as you began trudging through the plush grass toward the far end of the plot, you noticed a man standing beneath the shade of a nearby oak tree. He wore typical funeral attire—the black dress shirt, pants, shoes, and even a pair of rectangular shades to cover his eyes. Like many of the others, you didn't recognize him—at first.

And then he shifted, lenses of his glasses reflecting sunlight and you could just barely put together the puzzle of his face and his identity. Ji Changmin.

What was he doing here?

They were friends, too, Yn, you reminded yourself. Yet, you weren't sure why you were so surprised he was here. Maybe it was because you never remembered extending the invitation to him (but someone could have spread the news by word of mouth). Maybe it was because several months had passed since you last saw him. Maybe it was because you always thought there was something… strange about him (but that could have been your bias; there was always this thing about him that irked you). Either way, you never had anything to say to him before, and that had yet to change even in light of your sister's death.

The two of you stared each other down, and for a moment, you believed he was going to walk over to you.

But instead, he pushed off the tree trunk and made his way toward the trickle of funeral goers up the hill, leaving you to wonder after him.

The next time you saw Ji Changmin was a week after the will reading.

Because you were Sena's next of kin, you were contacted by your shared attorney about Sena's will. Apparently, she had a will. After all these years, you couldn't even fathom the idea of needing one so early, but for some reason, she had. (Maybe that worried you a little more.)

The strangest thing was that your attorney had delivered to you a flat lockbox made of steel and secured with an old fashioned lock and key. Along with the stash of money in her savings account (where the Hell had all of that come from anyway?), Sena also gave you that. Whatever it was.

You had yet to open it when you bumped into Changmin on your way out of your college's academic counseling center. With recent events, your departmental advisor called you in to discuss your academic plans for the foreseeable future.

You can take as long as you like, Yn, she'd said to you. You're already ahead of schedule to graduate anyways. But that wasn't the point was it?—

"Oh." You stopped short as you rounded the corner and nearly crashed into something. "Sorry," you said before you even recognized him.

A pair of dark, feline eyes looked you up and down. "Yn, right?" Changmin drawled. A pair of white wired earbuds hung from his ears and his shoulders were fitted with a dark colored bomber jacket that was familiar to you. You'd seen it draped over the back of one of your kitchen chairs once when Sena had him over for a project.

Your eyes shuttered. "Yeah. Changmin?"

His nod was barely there. He cocked his head to the side in a way that felt like he was trying to gaze into your soul. "I'm—I'm sorry for your loss," he said, grappling for the right words. "Sena was a good friend."

"I didn't realize the two of you were so close," you told him. This was probably the most he'd ever said to your face, and you to him.

Changmin gave a small shrug. "We worked closely together, so it was kind of inevitable. How are you doing?"

You didn't think the conversation would last this long. "Oh, uhm, I'm fine." You inwardly knocked yourself over the head. He's probably just trying to be nice, Yn. "I mean—" you amended, "—I'm doing as well as you can imagine, I guess. Just lots of legal stuff and…" Her room. Cleaning out her room. Opening the lockbox. Reading her last will and testament for the fiftieth time.

When you didn't finish your sentence right away, he nodded again, shuffling on the balls of his feet. Was he feeling as awkward as you were? "I get that. Hey, if you—y'know, like, need anything—"

"You don't have to do that."

"What about coffee? Just… to talk."

Coffee? You considered him for a second. Before, you nor he had ever given any indication to the other that you acknowledged the other's presence. In fact, you confessed to Sena once that he intimidated you, even if he was just sitting there in your shared living room while pouring over JSTOR academic essays.

He was patient, you realized. Then you relented. "Okay. When's good for you?"

You thought you saw a glimmer of relief in his eyes, but that could have just been the afternoon sunlight. "Now?"

Your eyes widened a smidge, and you coughed. "Uhm now? I—I have class…?" You didn't, but the curve ball that was an impromptu coffee session with Ji Changmin wasn't something you needed right now.

His eyebrow lifted as if he didn't believe you. "Okay," he dragged out. "Tomorrow morning?" He offered as a counter.

Your brain did cartwheels in an attempt to figure out if you would have the willpower to do that. "Okay," you said. Better to get this out of the way, right?

"Do you know that one place on Magnolia?"

"The one across from the Eight Ball?" You perked up in recognition. You and Sena used to go all the time. The two of you liked to say that Magnolia was her street because it housed all her favorite places; just the thought of taking a stroll down it made your eyes water. "Yeah, Sena and I used to go all the time."

Changmin paused, his mouth opening, then closing.

You guessed what he was thinking. "It's fine if we go. I'm not gonna like, burst into tears or anything," you chuckled awkwardly, clearing your throat when excess tear fluid made you congested.

His lips pursed, impressing a dimple into his cheek. "Okay, only if you're sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." It seemed that everything you said to people was something like a lie nowadays.

It was late when you finally faced the lockbox.

The box was an unassuming hunk of metal, flat and slim and no bigger than a standard piece of paper. You warmed the key in your palm until it was hot to the touch and made your skin redden. The sky outside your apartment window had darkened to a blot of ink, the white shutters drawn shut to create a white paneled shield. You just finished up a very lazy dinner, washed up, and decided to confront the last thing on Sena's will.

The lockbox in the bank under my name goes to my sister, Yn Ln. She is the only one allowed access to it until she opens it; what she decides to do with the contents is her choice.

There must have been something important inside it, you reasoned, otherwise it wouldn't have been a part of the will and it wouldn't be under lock and a single key.

"What is this, Sena?" You asked aloud, venturing to twist the lock open with the key. The locking mechanism gave way, and you set the lock and key aside. The shorter end could slide open like a hidden door, and you peered into the dark depths, almost afraid of what you might find between its jaws.

You could make out the silhouettes of shapes at the bottom, the soft-cornered texture of a wad of bills. You reached in.

One of the things she had left for you in her will was all of the money in her savings account. It had shocked you to see the number—you always thought her only job was at the library, but clearly, she was not just on a librarian's salary.

Pulling out a stack of cash from the box was yet another thing that helped solidify in your mind that something was off. The confusion settled first, and then the betrayal. Had she not trusted you with this knowledge while she was alive? You were the one going into accounting and finance, and yet, she hid all of this money from you? Was she afraid of something? Afraid of judgment, of the law?

You tossed the twenties onto the table. The note slipped between the rubber band and the first piece read something along the lines of 'in case of emergency.'

You made a plunge into the box again. This time, you pulled out the last two things at the bottom, a standard white index card and a small, fabric pouch. The card displayed Sena's familiar scrawl:

You're probably wondering what any of this is, but if you're reading this, it means that something's gone wrong—like really wrong. The necklace in the pouch is super important. DON'T TAKE IT OFF. Don't let anyone touch it before you do. Don't trust anyone. This is really important to me, Yn. Please be safe; I love you.

x, sena.

Please be safe? Safe from who or what?

You held the note in your hand for a moment and couldn't believe this would be the last thing you received from her. It would be a tangible legacy, in a way, and you weren't sure how to feel about that. You moved the note to the table and turned your attention to the pouch.

You carefully tugged it open. She said it was a necklace, right?

"Oh," you voiced aloud while fishing out a thin, silver chain.

There was a pendant attached to the end with some heft to it. It was a deep, bloody red in the loose shape of a teardrop. There wasn't a sharp peak, but a slightly flat end on one side and a rounded end on the other. You would guess it was some kind of precious stone, but when you stared at it long enough, it looked like the color pulsed… like a heartbeat.

Your breath hitched.

Eyes narrowed, you held it up to the light by the chain. The vibrant red remained stagnant—perhaps you were just tired.

Don't let anyone touch it before you do. Don't take it off. Don't trust anyone.

Strange request about a necklace. For a moment, you wondered if your sister had indulged in some unsavory acts to achieve the numbers in her bank account and the previous stone in your hands. If you put this on, would you be counted as an accomplice to robbery?

"God, you just need to go to sleep, Yn," you muttered, swiftly clicking the chain into place around your neck. There was no way your sister would have anything to do with—

You froze.

From the other side of your shutters, you swore you heard the sound of shuffling. It wasn't unheard-of that the leaves and tree branches knocked against your second-floor window once in a while, but there hadn't been much wind as of late.

A chill spider-crawled up your spine as you strained your ears to hear more.

When you came up with nothing, you shoved the pendant under your shirt and cleaned up the lockbox. You had an early day tomorrow, after all; sleep was dire to face Changmin.

But as you crept into bed, you couldn't help but feel as if the stone on your sternum did have a heartbeat, and that something in the dark was watching you.

#2—GHOSTS ONLY HAUNT.

YOU STEPPED FOOT ON MAGNOLIA STREET looking for signs of your sister.

The morning air was a little cooler as spring filtered into town, and it also meant that this street in particular would begin to swirl with baby pink petals from the trees of the street's namesake flowers. There weren't many people around on a Thursday morning, but the sun peered between the buildings to say hello, at least.

You were in good company.

"Hey."

"Holy shit—" you whipped around to find Changmin almost right behind you. Your heart stuttered against your ribcage, your hand flying to your sternum where the necklace was. You were still getting used to its presence.

He gave nothing away with his facial expression. Damn him.

"I didn't realize you'd be early," you breathed as you tried to get a grip on yourself. Did this guy just materialize out of thin air everywhere?

Tongue in cheek, he said, "Well, I couldn't really sleep, so I figured the morning air might freshen me up a bit. Shall we?" He gestured with his elbow and chin to the establishment to your right.

There sat the quaint, little coffee shop you'd both agreed on yesterday. This one was one of Sena's favorites. She always claimed that their blueberry scones were the best in the world.

When you didn't say anything for a little, he cleared his throat. "We don't have to, if you can't or don't want to."

You hadn't even realized you were being quiet. Thoughts had been muddled as of late. You cleared your throat and stumbled for the door. "No, we can go in."

Two cups of coffee arrived at your table seven minutes later in compostable cups and a pile of artificial sweetener packets and creamer. You straightened in your seat across from Changmin and began ripping open sweetener packets and wondering if you should have gotten something of substance to eat. (You had stared at the blueberry scones for a long minute before deciding that today was not the day you wanted to cry in front of someone, especially this someone in particular.)

Changmin moved his cup toward his side of the table but made no move to add sugar or cream, or to even drink it.

This place was so familiar to you that you knew exactly how many packets of cream and sweetener to mix in, and you gently blew a breath over the steam floating off the surface. When the liquid hit your tongue and your throat, its warmth enveloped your nerves in a warm embrace, assuring you everything was going to be okay. The emotion hit you like a freight train.

You pressed your thumb against the rear gland in your right eye and willed it away. "So uhm," you said, fanning your eyes gently as you attempted to pull yourself together in front of him, "what… what did you wanna talk about? If there was anything?"

He folded his arms over his chest while leaning back in his chair, and you thought you saw his gaze soften. "Why don't you take another sip?" His eyes went to the coffee. "It'll help."

You couldn't deny that suggestion, and you reached for your cup to take another small gulp. The breath you let out rattled.

This was a bad idea.

"Are you gonna be okay if I talk about Sena?"

You nursed the coffee cup in your hands and nodded slowly.

He eyed you for a moment, then relented. "Did she happen to leave anything that was marked for me? Before the—the accident, she said there was something she needed to tell me."

Something she needed to tell him? You racked your brain, eyes drilling into the wood grain of the coffee table between you two. The will hadn't mentioned anyone else but you. And all of the letters or notes from Sena that were given to you were all for you; the attorney would have handled the rest and mailed them off to anyone else she'd written something for.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "No, I can't think of anything. You say you were expecting something?"

The resolve in his eyes steeled over, and that little bit of softness you'd seen before disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. You couldn't read him anymore. "Yes, I have her texts."

He fished out his phone from his pocket and you pursed your lips as he maneuvered to a screen of his and your sister's last messages to each other:

sena: i think i'm going back home soon, so i'll c u then changmin: okay that's fine changmin: wait ur still over there?? i thought u left already? sena: had to talk to someone abt the thing, but it was a dead end sena: just remind me that i have something to tell u changmin: what? sena: it'll be better if i said this in person

That was all Changmin let you see.

You leaned away from his phone, head reeling more from the fact that he knew she had been out of town and knew where she was and why she was there. Never mind the fact that apparently, Sena was holding onto important information for Changmin. You couldn't care less about that.

You supposed the texts were for him to prove to you he was telling you the truth. It wasn't like you weren't telling the truth either.

"Why was Sena out of town?" You asked him. "Did she ever go on any of those study abroad trips?"

Changmin paused, then something flickered in his eyes. "I think I showed you too much."

"I think you showed me too little."

"Yn, did she tell you anything about what she needed to tell me?"

You were going to push against him for your own agenda again, but the slight pressure in his tone made you think twice. There was something urgent in his words, his expression, his body language. You couldn't tell what it was, but something about this had to have been important.

Absentmindedly, your hand rubbed the area where the pendant sat on your chest beneath the collar of your shirt, and his eyes followed for a moment before flickering back up to your eyes. "No," you told him quietly. "She didn't tell me anything."

He must have believed you, because defeat shuddered across his face, and he said goodbye to leave. He didn't even take his coffee with him. Asshole.

You told yourself it would be months before you could bring yourself to go through Sena's things, but after this morning's run-in with Changmin (because it wasn't even a session; you could hardly call it anything but a run-in because it lasted maybe ten minutes), you were determined to unlock her door and do some digging. Clearly, she was hiding more than her money and jewelry(?) from you.

Changmin… he completely ignored your questions confronting him about Sena's whereabouts and her purpose for traveling. You were getting more and more suspicious as to what your sister had been up to lately. Changmin had to be in on it, too, then. He had to be.

Sena's door took up your entire vision as you stood before it with the key in your hand.

You weren't entirely sure what you were expecting when you opened it, but it was as if she had never left. Everything was where she left it—plum-purple covers tucked beneath the mattress, vintage national park postcards hanging from fairy lights by wooden clothespins, jackets layered over the back of her desk chair. There was an empty mug on her desk with the remnants of a red lip tint on the edge, and you knew you weren't going to remember to take it out to the sink later.

The small shelf-nightstand hybrid next to her bed was filled to the brim with books and notebooks and magazines. You settled gingerly upon the edge of her bed, palms pressing against the comforter.

The room still smelled like your sister.

You took the small bottle of perfume on the nightstand and spritzed a little onto your wrist. You pressed it to your nose, letting the scent make your senses woozy. It wouldn't bring her back; it didn't smell exactly the same when it was on your skin.

You set the bottle back onto the nightstand, then lowered yourself to your knees to pull all of the books off the top shelf. You stuck your head into the empty cupboard—you weren't really sure what you were looking for.

All of the titles here were the normal things you remembered seeing her read: assorted mythologies, books on the occult and supernatural, her textbooks for anthropology and archeology. There were about a dozen and a half National Geographic magazines that you flipped through within the next two hours, as well, all of which turned up nothing of curiosity.

None of the bound books were notebooks of any kind.

You crawled over to her desk—rifled through those. Nothing. They were all school related and completely, utterly ordinary.

Disappointment weighed you down into her desk chair as you hit another dead end.

Was there nothing she could give you?

No, she's dead, you thought to yourself. You'd never known Sena to be a secretive person, especially with you—in fact, you were the quieter of the pair, and she always managed to coax the right things out of you.

Sometimes you had felt like the older sister because you handled so many of the logistics and practical things, but when the world became too scary, you could always count on running to her to feel safe again…

Safe.

Sena, were you ever safe? You were beginning to think not so much.

"Do I need to file for a restraining order?"

It was getting ridiculous how many times you ran into Changmin in the past two weeks. It was outside the advising office, on your way to the store, in the hallway outside your finance lecture. And now, he loitered in the lobby of your apartment complex with a wired earbud in one ear and the other dangling freely.

He seemed to be unfazed by your remark as he peered over at you from beneath the brim of his cap. "What if I just live here?"

"But you don't," you huffed, coming to stop right in front of him. You had a feeling you would have definitely known if he moved into this building. "What do you want from me, Changmin? I'm not going to magically lead you to my sister's secret stash of whatever. I just want to get to class."

"Then go to class," he said simply. He gestured with the phone in his hand toward the door. "I'm not here for you."

You narrowed your eyes at him. Perhaps you were being a little silly, and this was just some weird trick your brain was playing on you to make you notice him more. "Answer me something."

"Only if you answer something for me."

"This isn't a negotiation."

"Worth a shot," he said with a sigh. "What shall I answer for you?"

"You and my sister weren't dating, were you?"

He must have choked on his own spit because he coughed, furiously thumping his chest. You would have laughed if this was any other circumstance, and if you and Changmin were friends (but you weren't). He shook his head at you. "No. Your sister wasn't interested in me like that and neither was I. We were strictly colleagues."

You cocked your head to the side. Colleagues… you let that marinate. "Okay, so did she have anyone she was seeing then? Just out of curiosity." A former lover you didn't know about would make sense, something like a Bonnie and Clyde situation maybe. Or perhaps you were chasing after ghosts to get a glimpse into the past.

"Someone I suspect, but I don't have their contact," he replied, mimicking your head tilt and narrowed eyes. "If you had her phone—"

"I don't."

"Ah, a shame then."

"Do you?"

"And why would I withhold such an important item from the next of kin?" He drawled.

Changmin suddenly jolted upright from the relaxed position he stood in. It was so abrupt, it gave your heart a start. "That's my cue."

You followed after him out the front doors. "What cue? Did you hear your microwave go off or something?"

You swore to God you saw his mouth curl up in amusement. But it might have been just your imagination. He yanked his other earbud out and lifted a hand in goodbye. "Something like that! See you around."

He disappeared around the corner before you could follow after him. Plus, you really did have a lecture to get to. (Wait, did he say that she was seeing someone—?)

You sighed, wondering if you should follow him… something in the back of your mind told you it would be safer not to.

#3—MONSTERS AMONG MEN.

YOU SWORE JI CHANGMIN HAD TO BE a psychic with the amount of times he predicted your whereabouts. Every time you saw him in your vicinity, you and he shared either a verbal sparring match or stared one another down. He seemed amused by it; you were growing increasingly concerned, even if it was all just coincidence.

(There was this one time, on a Wednesday this past week, where you were the one who appeared at the anthropology department to see one of Sena's old professors. Changmin was there, as it was his major's headquarters, and shot you a curious glance. The meeting was innocent and an accident. No, you definitely weren't stalking him. Absolutely not.)

(It was interesting to consider whether both of you thought the other would lead you to something of Sena's. You were certain he knew more than he let on, and perhaps he thought the same of you… Shit, maybe you should invest in a taser.)

Additionally, the weird sounds around your apartment had increased. Sometimes when you walked around in the evenings, the hair on the back of your neck and your arms stood at attention, as if you could feel the gaze of someone or… something watching you. However, every time you turned to look, the crazier you were convinced you'd become.

It didn't help that the necklace Sena left for you kept mimicking your heart beat when you weren't paying attention. If you willed it to repeat the steady beat in the light so you could observe it up close, it would cease.

It was as if distance from your skin or touch left it without a heart to echo.

You were half certain you were losing your mind. It had to be all this stress and emotion overwhelming you.

Saturday morning, you decided to pick yourself up and go see your sister. The funeral home had called you earlier this week to say that her headstone was complete, so this would also serve as a trip to ensure everything was engraved correctly before it was placed over her grave. You dressed yourself up in a dark top and comfortable jeans, something you might be able to sit in on the grass as you lingered in her presence, even if she was dead.

Ever since you went through her things, you hadn't ventured into her room again. You thought it might preserve the way it looked, smelled, felt… preserve something of her.

Once you'd gone to the funeral parlor and management center at Elysium Memorial Park to confirm the engraving, you took a brisk walk up the hill to where you remembered Sena's plot to be. The sun peered out between clouds this morning, giving the sky a dual-toned appearance, one half a dark gray, and the other a gossamer yellow.

You started down the hill, head ducked to watch for any graves or hills so you didn't trample over other people's bodies. A bundle of flowers from the grocery store sat cradled in the crook of your arm—a bundle of pink carnations ("I'll never forget you") and dark crimson roses (mourning). You didn't often pay attention to the meaning of flowers, but you thought if you weren't able to choke anything out today, then at least they could speak for you.

Just as you neared the grave between oaks, you lifted your head, your footsteps slowing at the person who stood over your sister's grave. "You have got to be shitting me."

"Isn't it a sin to curse over someone's grave?" Changmin asked as you stopped short of where he was. There was a single stem of sunflower (adoration) seated at his feet on the bundle of earth that was Sena's resting place. "Well, I wouldn't know. That's not my expertise."

"What are you doing here?"

He gave a loose gesture with a flourished hand. "Visiting a friend. Don't leave on my account. She's your sister."

It was as if he could read your mind. You didn't count on anyone being here when you saw her, but he had a right to visit her, too. The bitterness seeping into your bones would have to be squandered for today; the universe just needed to stop making the two of you bump into each other.

You ignored the quickening pitter-patter of your heart and the necklace, and trudged over the grass to where he was.

You gently placed your bundle of flowers next to his, then straightened to stand beside him. The two of you stared at the patch in the ground in silence.

A frown etched itself onto his face, along with a crease between his brows. He seemed almost angry—at what, you couldn't tell. Not you, you hoped.

Quietly, you lowered yourself to the grass to sit down and be closer to her.

I miss you, you voiced into your head, as if you could transmit these thoughts to the dead body in the ground. I'm so… it's too much, Sena. I can't do this. I don't know what you want from me, I don't know what Changmin wants from me. The apartment is cold. Why didn't you tell me you were home all this time?

For the moment, you let your vision blur with tears.

You covered your mouth with your palm to dam the emotion inside, especially with someone else right next to you, but dignity be so fucking damned. Your body trembled with the weight of everything and beyond—you were Atlas carrying the world upon his shoulders. Pressure mounted in your cranium from how hard and freely you sobbed, your fingers pressed to your face to support your head as your tears wet the earth beneath you.

A presence lowered itself to the ground beside you, and Changmin remained politely quiet. He breathed in deeply, but you heard the slight tremble of his breath when he exhaled.

Maybe you were crying for the both of you.

After what seemed like eons, you sniffled, pawing at your puffy and reddened eyes with the sleeves of your shirt. You hadn't brought along any tissues or anything, an oversight.

You gathered your wits about you and clambered to your feet, your knees knocking together like a baby deer. Changmin still had his eyes pinned to the ground.

"Whatever the Hell you want from me," you told him hoarsely, "I don't care. Just leave me alone."

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. Without another word, you walked away to head back to the bus stop.

Your skin prickled when you returned home. The air was oddly… off, and a strange smell lingered in the air. It was subtle, only becoming apparent to you with deep, focused inhales. The identity of the smell eluded you and it wasn't something you were familiar with.

You kicked the front door shut behind you, and noticed that the window was ajar. Had you accidentally left that open before you left?

Strange.

You padded across the room to peer out at the street below. There sat the usual tree that occupied the space in front of your window, the one that you assumed (hoped) was the thing making all of the noises outside the past few weeks. (Because if it wasn't that, you didn't want to know what it really was.)

The thought occurred to you that you might have opened the window before you left to air out whatever smell had crept through the air vents. Yes, that made a whole lot of sense.

Settling with that explanation, you cranked the window closed slightly, only leaving a sliver so you could muffle as much of the sounds outside as possible. This part of town wasn't the noisiest, luckily, but when there were vehicles that drove by, they tended to be loud for no reason.

You sighed, settling down onto your couch with your bag. The whole rest of your day was open, and the only thing you had thought of was to go see Sena.

The feeling of eyes on you loitered on your skin like an invisible ant crawling over your body somewhere. You swiped at your neck, rubbed your arm… you couldn't identify it when you swung around to observe your own home.

This was your home, wasn't it? Why did it feel like you weren't alone in it?

You were going to go close the window—

A shadow appeared on the ledge of your window sill and you let out a scream.

The mass gnarled its teeth at the sound, pouncing at you with claws and fangs that glinted in the daylight.

You scrambled backward on the couch, toward the opposite end, your heart throwing itself up against your ribcage. "What the fuck?" You breathed, trying to figure out what in the world it was.

Bad idea. Oh, baaaad. Bad. Bad. Bad idea.

You shouldn't have stared so long; then you wouldn't have realized it had multiple rows of teeth, a face pale as a full moon, and two beady eyes narrowed into slits. Saliva dripped from its maw and down its chin as it crawled on its haunches and arms to you.

It made a guttural noise, then lunged.

You swore and fell over the arm of the couch, dragging along the lamp on the side table. You tried to move your right leg off the arm—it didn't budge. Oh god, it had its claws in your pant leg—

"Mine," it snarled, surprisingly sentient. "Master wills it so."

You kicked it in its face and managed to scramble away, clutching the lamp in front of your body as a weapon.

It ran after you, and your body leapt into instinct.

You nearly slipped as you fumbled to your feet and tipped the coffee table over the creature. "What the fuck are you—SHIT."

Wood splinters exploded as the creature smashed clear through one of the legs and went careening for you.

"HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE," you begged, running for the kitchen and the block of knives in your sight.

Your knees hit the wood floor with a vengeance, and you had no time to mourn over bruised knees. You twisted around and just barely shoved the lamp between its jaws before it could enclose them around your neck—

Somebody pounded on your front door. "YN? YN!"

Familiar—that was all that went through your head. "HELP ME," you screeched, your hands growing slippery from the slobber. Desperation filled your veins and you gave a violent shove.

Your front door bursted open, the handle banging against the opposite wall and leaving a dent.

Changmin charged into the room with a dark look in his eyes, a swear on his tongue. "You're the little weasel who's been fucking with me."

The creature shifted his attention to Changmin. "Your Disgrace," it gave a mocking bow.

That seemed to be his ticker.

You couldn't comprehend what happened—only an exchange of blows, a blur of body mass—Changmin brawled with the creature on your floor and you dragged yourself behind the kitchen counter to hide. You reached for a knife from the knife block up above and pulled your knees to your chest, the sounds of snarling and wood breaking and bones cracking—then—complete silence.

You slapped a palm over your mouth, eyes going toward the ceiling to pray to anyone who could hear you.

This was when you died. The creature had killed Changmin and now it was coming back to finish what it started.

You held your breath with your eyes wide open. You strained your ears. The sound of a sigh met your ears, one that was oh-so familiar to you.

"Shit," came Changmin's voice. "Yn. Yn? Yn, where…?"

He rounded the counter, his hair sticking up in different directions and a large tear at the top of his shirt, but other than that, he seemed no worse for wear. He eyed the knife pointed outward at him, and he showed you his palms as if placating a rattlesnake. "Woah, hey, it's okay. It's gone now."

Your body trembled from head to toe with all of the pent up fear and adrenaline. You shook your head, your hand still clapped over your mouth to keep your screams or cries in.

Changmin lowered himself to your level slowly. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise, it's gone and you're okay now. Let's put the knife down."

You slowly, slowly brought your extended hand down, letting the blade point toward the ground and away from the man in front of you. "What—" you choked, "—what was—who are—"

His facial features arranged into something short of stress. "It's a long story…" He roughed a hand through his bangs. "That thing back there? Yn, that was a demon."

You blinked.

He exhaled sharply. "I'm a demon."

"Don't fuck with me."

"You think I'm fucking with you?"

Your free hand clutched at the pendant around your neck. "You—you don't look like that thing though."

He gave a nod. "Right, I don't. I'm… a different kind of demon." When you remained quiet, he prodded, "You're not going to fight back? You're not gonna tell me you're going crazy?"

"Oh, I know I'm going crazy," you nodded vigorously, wiping away the snot that dribbled down your nose inelegantly. He reached over the counter to grab the roll of paper towels and slide it over to you in an act of (rare) kindness. Your head made contact with the cabinet behind you. "Is the carcass lying on my living room floor, Changmin? Tell me it is not lying on my living room floor."

"It's not."

"Then where the fuck is it?"

He licked his lips, closing his eyes. "It escaped."

"Out the window?"

"No, through a portal—"

You wheezed, and you were sure you looked half mad to him. "Oh my god, I really am off my rocker." A portal. A portal! Of course it was a portal.

He pinned you with a look. "Yn. Yn, listen to me. You're not safe here."

"No shit. I almost died two minutes ago." You saw his unimpressed expression and forced an apology out of your mouth. "Sorry. Humor is a coping mechanism. You can't just tell me demons exist without me thinking we've both gone absolutely insane."

Changmin settled into a more comfortable position on the floor, gripping onto the edge of the counter behind his head. "Yeah, your sister reacted similarly when she found out."

Everything came to a screeching halt.

"What?"

He stuck his tongue in his cheek. "Supernatural creatures exist. The ones that you read about in books and in myths and legends, and watch in silly movies and TV shows?" He gestured wide with both his arms. "They exist—we exist."

You could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You swallowed. "And she… she knew this?"

A nod. "Yes. We've all been walking among you this whole time."

"What does this have to do with Sena?" What did any of this have to do with your sister? Was this even worse than you imagined it was?

He pursed his lips, exposing the little mole beneath his bottom lip for a moment. "Sena and I were… business partners. We were in the bounty hunting business, essentially."

There were words coming out of his mouth, but it was too much. All of it hit your head and fell straight to the floor, and none of it truly sank into your sense of reality.

Sena was a supernatural bounty hunter? And she died while on a case. A personal one, he said—?

"—I was coming over to show you something when I felt my trap get triggered."

"Wait, wait, wait," you cut in. "Trap?"

"I've been hunting that demon for weeks now," he explained to you, but the words were coming out slowly like he was reluctant to let them go. "It's been… avoiding me, and I tracked it to your apartment and realized what, or who, it was after." His teeth ran over his bottom lip and his eyes narrowed on you. "You're wearing it, aren't you? The pendant?"

On instinct, your hand shot up to your sternum. "How the Hell—"

"That's what Sena and I were looking for." His sharp, feline gaze remained pinned on you as you slowly lifted the chain to take the pendant out. It glistened like a fat, red ruby in the daylight. "What did she tell you about it?"

"Absolutely nothing," you said plainly. You set the knife on the ground beside you and adjusted your sitting position with a shaky exhale. "Except that I shouldn't let anyone touch it before me, that I shouldn't take it off, and to not—trust anyone."

You stiffened when Changmin reached for something in his back pocket.

"Relax, this is what I wanted to show you." He held his hands up after retrieving a cream-colored envelope from his back pocket, majorly bent and crumpled in some portions, but intact for the most part. He slid the envelope across the kitchen floor to you, and you immediately recognized your sister's handwriting.

You gingerly picked it up off the ground and inspected it. It couldn't have been forged—the way she wrote her R's were too distinct. She was so weird about always writing capital R's even if it was supposed to be lowercase.

You opened the flap and tugged out the letter inside. As you made your way down the note, it came to you that this was his evidence. This was his evidence that Sena knew him personally and that, according to past-Sena, you could trust him.

Your fingers shook as you pushed the letter back into the fold, and you shoved the envelope back over to him. "Okay," you muttered. "What now?"

Something akin to relief washed over his face. "She didn't tell you anything about the pendant? Nothing?"

You shook your head, fondling the stone between your fingers. "No. I found it in the lockbox she left for me with cash and a small note."

"Lockbox?" He perked up. "Are you certain there wasn't anything else in there? Not a second stone or a second necklace? Nothing?"

Your eyebrows furrowed in thought, and you pressed your thumb and forefinger to your closed eyes when they began to sting from dehydration. "No. It was just those three things I mentioned earlier. Why?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you said. "I am absolutely sure. You don't think I turned that thing upside down?"

Changmin stood up and began to pace around his side of the kitchen, his head buried in his two palms. "Oh fuck," you heard his muttered swear.

"What is it?"

He rubbed his hands down his face, and it reset him to that careful blankness from before. "Do you trust me?"

"No," came your automatic answer.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Your sister was after something important before she died. She—she was supposed to update me about it when she got back, but she never did." He carded a hand through his hair again. "It could reveal to us more about what happened. Didn't she mention anything about how important this was?"

He wasn't wrong, unfortunately. Sena wrote it plainly in her final note to you about how important this necklace was, and keeping it with you. You supposed you could dash out any thought that she stole this from a bank or jewelry store… a mortal one, at least.

What the fuck was this thing made of?

You enclosed your fist around the stone. "So what are you saying?"

"We need to finish what she started." He considered something for a moment, then added, "And you're not safe here."

Something panged in your chest. "I'm not teaming up with you."

Changmin took a couple steps toward you and from this distance, there was an unmistakable ferocity in his gaze. "I would agree with you, but unfortunately, if I want answers and the pendant, then I'm stuck with you."

Your blood pressure spiked. "You're such an ass."

"Ass or not," he drawled, "you can stay here and risk that cretin coming back for you, or you can come with me, and we can figure out what the Hell happened to your sister."

Your bones, your joints—everything ached as you clambered to your feet. God, you were tired. A grave sort of determination trickled into your mind, though, at the thought of getting away from this. It didn't seem like there was much other choice anyway.

#4—SURVIVE THE NIGHT.

IT WAS LATE WHEN THE CAR pulled into the motel parking lot. Your ass was on fire from the long drive, and your mind hazy from sleep deprivation. Fear kept you awake for the entirety of the eight hour trek between home and nowhere. You would have worried about Changmin in the driver's seat, but considering you found out he was a supernatural being literally eight hours ago, your worries consoled themselves.

"This was the best out of the selection," he murmured, barely audibly, as he put the car in park. The glow from the motel lights was the only light for miles, and the red-violet from the neon sign washed over Changmin's sharp side profile like a grungy teen thriller show.

A yawn stretched out of you and you reached for your seatbelt. "Wasn't complaining."

He sent you a pointed look. It was a silent "Really?" You pointedly ignored it.

The two of you clambered out of the car and you massaged your back and butt with reprieve. Your hand reached for the red ruby settled beneath the fabric of your T-shirt, the warm stone solid and present between your fingers. Changmin slammed his side of the car closed as he slung his bag over his shoulder, and you were swift to follow his lead.

Your fingers drummed against the side of your pants just as the main office came into view. There was someone seated behind the front desk with her head buried in her phone and Candy Crush on the screen. You and Changmin walked up to the counter and her head flicked upward.

Her eyes darted between you two and something or other clicked in her head. "Room for two?" She droned, already clacking away on her computer screen.

"Yes please," you sighed. You knew there was no way you were getting around her assumptions.

She smacked the gum in the side of her cheek, twirling around in her chair to reach for a key on the wall behind her. "It'll be thirty bucks," she said, sliding the key across the counter, "and we don't have condoms."

You and Changmin both coughed, heat rushing to your face. "None needed," he muttered as he slid a twenty and ten dollar bill over to her.

You collected the key and checked for the room number. Sleep crept into the corners of your eyes again and they were starting to sting from dehydration.

Changmin eyed you from his peripheral vision and nodded his silent thanks to the girl. He swept an arm loosely around your shoulders to guide you back out to the night beyond the main office. The room you were assigned was on the second floor of a building just a little ways down the complex. It was outfitted with a single queen-sized bed and bathroom, and the lights fortunately worked well enough. You couldn't decide if it was a good thing that you were too tired to assess the cleanliness of this room, but you made a beeline for the bathroom.

"I'm taking a shower," you announced, already closing the door.

The last thing you heard was his grunt from the other side.

You dumped your backpack on the lid of the toilet then braced your forearms on the sink counter. The lights in here were a dull gray and made you look sickly in the mirror. Dark bags hung beneath your pinkened eyes—the receptionist probably thought you were drunk or high. Exhaustion hit you like a bus, your limbs sluggish and heavy.

So much had happened in the past 48 hours.

You ripped the shower curtain back and fiddled around with the shower until cold water spouted from the top.

Changmin was a demon. He was Hellspawn. You'd messed around with the idea of him being a pain in the ass before, but you never expected his demon-ness to be true.

When the water warmed as much as it could, you stepped beneath its drizzle. The ruby pendant from your sister sat on your sternum, safe and warm, and you watched it pulse with a glowing scarlet beneath the stream of water.

Your sister.

A few weeks ago, you watched her body lowered into a ditch in the ground. A little before that, you were told her death had been an accident. Now, you were on the run.

From who or what? You weren't completely sure. That was what Changmin was here for. Well, technically he was here for the necklace your sister left with you, but after what happened at your apartment that caused the two of you to go on the run, here you and the necklace were. Plus, the note your sister left explicitly instructed that the necklace be kept with you—on you. (You still weren't too certain of anything.)

When your fingers began to prune, you reluctantly stepped out of the shower to slip on a new set of clothes from your backpack. You went through the motions of getting ready to sleep, too, mind fuzzy and unable to make sense of anything.

You wrestled down a sigh and desire to cry. You were tired, for fuck's sake, you were so tired.

But when you opened the bathroom door, flicking the light off, you paused. The room was dark.

Your breath hitched in your throat and the hair on the back of your neck stood at attention. Heart pounding, you took a step into the main room.

"Chang—" A palm closed around your mouth, another cupping the back of your head.

Panicpanicpanic—

A warm breath by your ear. "Calm down. It's just me." Changmin.

Fucking Hell.

You found his eyes as yours grew more accustomed to the dark. His head twisted over his shoulder to the window by the door where you could see silhouettes walking past, silent and stalking.

"Someone's here," he exhaled as he slowly removed his hand from over your mouth. His dark bangs hung in his eyes, his mouth set in a firm line. "They can sense the pendant, I think."

Your heart thundered against your ribcage—ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom—

Changmin's head whipped back toward you and he fished something out of his pocket. He reached for your hand, closing your fingers around something cold and metal. "Slowly put your backpack down and barricade yourself in the closet over there," he instructed quietly, finger pointing in the direction of the sliding doors just to your left. "If it comes to it, use the knife, Yn."

You bit your tongue to keep your breathing as steady as possible. Your hands shook around the switchblade he'd passed to you, and under his sharp eyes, you carefully lowered your bag to the ground without making as much noise as you could. Then, with his go-ahead, you crept as quietly as possible toward the closet.

Just as you reached for the slot in the door, all Hell broke loose.

The window shattered open, the door kicked off its hinges. Your entire body tensed as you dropped to the floor behind the bed, clutching the knife in front of you.

Changmin swore, nice and loud.

Shadows pummeled him to the ground until he was tangled in darkness, like nightmares brought to life. You saw a flash of claws in your view, your scream caught in your throat.

"You."

A blur of shadow whisked across your vision and your eyes went wide.

The creature crawled over the bed and pounced toward you—you rolled away from him, blade held out in front of your body. Oh, there was an awful wave of déjà vu coming over you.

"You are a difficult being to find, pet," the creature hissed. You were beginning to make out its features now—dagger-like eyes, claws that could easily rip flesh apart like cloth, and a maw of knives for teeth. Shit straight out of nightmares.

It cocked its head at you, crouching on the floor a few feet away. Why hadn't it attacked you yet?

"Curious," its scratchy voice croaked. "The master will be pleased when the asset is brought home to her."

The asset? It must have meant the necklace.

You heard a snarl from your right, and in horror, noted the thick, dark liquid splattered all over Changmin's clothes and body. When he snarled at the demons holding him down, you spotted the gleam of fangs.

"What do you want from me?" Your voice trembled, returning back to your main problem. The necklace sat warm and present, the pulses matching your racing heartbeat.

The creature released a sound like grating metal, something akin to a laugh. "Your guardian is more dangerous than he appears," he said instead while tilting its head to the side. "Clever being, that one. Master will be pleased when we bring his rotted corpse home."

You didn't anticipate how quickly it would move. You screamed as the creature dove for you and you swung out of the way. Its claws dug into the meat of your thigh, clinging to the flesh there with all of its might.

Fear struck painfully through your chest and you desperately twisted around to stab the blade into the side of the creature's neck.

It screeched. You drew the knife out to impale it in the back area, messily splattering an arc of its black blood everywhere.

You sucked in a sob as you scrambled backward. Its body dragged along the ground from its claws still sunken into your leg. The body was limp, but your nose wrinkled from the acrid, hot smell reeking from the corpse. It smelled burnt.

You peered at the blade in your fist with new eyes. The silver glowed gold in the darkened room; you shouldn't have expected anything less. Why did you think a mortal weapon could defend you from demonic creatures?

"YN!"

Too late.

Claws sunk into the sides of your throat and trapped your voice there. You thrashed around; panic stabbed your chest. Pathetically, desperately, you reached your arm back to try and drill the blade of your knife into the creature behind you.

Hot blood squelched down your throat—you were losing feeling there. Numb numb numb—it hurt, oh fuck, you were going to die—

All at once, the pressure subsided.

Breath could only flood into your lungs as quickly as blood spilled from your throat. You were choking, eyes wide up at the ceiling.

This was it, this was it. Maybe you'd see your sister in Hell.

A face appeared above you, sweaty but familiar. Your blurry vision couldn't make out the emotions on his face, but you could hear him… boy, could you hear him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed, rustling around and adjusting his position above your body.

His rough palms cupped your face. You could hear your heartbeat slowing in your ears. Ba-boom… ba-boom… ba… boom.

"Stay with me," he panted. His left hand pressed against that side of your neck to staunch the blood flow. He sucked in a breath and he ducked out of your view.

You felt a different wet sensation over your open wound. His tongue was rough, yet soothing as he lapped and sucked on the gouge in your throat. Feeling sparked in that area; you could feel your skin physically stitching itself together. If you could squirm, you would have.

He was swift to switch to your other side and copy those actions there. He groaned low against your skin, one hand cupping the side of your head to hold you in place.

Oxygen rushed through your lungs and you gasped. You tore your neck away from his mouth to dry retch. Blood dripped from the side of your lips to the dusty carpet. You had been asphyxiating on your own life force.

You flopped back onto your back, tears rolling down your cheeks as you gestured wildly at the steaming demon carcass still attached to your thigh. "Ple-please," you whimpered. "Please, get it off."

Changmin crawled onto his arms, sliding down toward your leg. "Yeah, sweetheart. I got it."

He looked up at you as he dug his fingers into the creature's skull, ready to pry the thing's claws from you. Something dark was smudged over his face—his nose, cheeks, across his eye. "It's gonna hurt," he warned, voice hoarse.

You moved your head in a microscopic nod.

Tears pricked at your vision, and your leg screamed. Blood filled your mouth even more from the force you used to clamp down on your tongue. Changmin was swift, but gentle as he removed each claw from your thigh, then tossed the body somewhere behind him. He lowered his face to your leg to carefully lap at your wounds like he'd done before.

When he was done, he flopped onto the floor with you, his sigh filling the awful silence.

You could feel everything. It was pulsing all over your body. Your skin, threading together, tingled and ached and throbbed. Your cheeks were damp with tear tracks and your fingers finally loosened their grip on the switchblade. Your mouth was coated in the metallic iron taste of blood.

The only familiar feeling was the pendant on your sternum. The bane of your existence.

"So you have magic spit?" You croaked, your voice scratchy from your sore and bruised throat.

You heard his huff, the closest thing you'd ever heard to a laugh from him. "It's regenerative," he exhaled deeply.

You snorted, then winced when it hurt.

If you could look up, you would've seen the corner of his lips twitch.

"Are you sure you're not a vampire?"

You heard a soft shuffling sound as he clambered upright to lean against the wall. His head thumped against it, eyes fluttered closed. "I don't drink blood, sweetheart."

"I didn't say you drank it."

You grimaced as you struggled to swallow. Reality was swooping in on you like a vulture above a carcass. Doom swirled in your stomach—you almost died just now. You choked on a sob, and you reached up to your face to brush away your tears.

Oh god, everything hurt.

"I want to go home," you whispered. It wasn't even to Changmin, just to whoever could hear you. Homehomehome, but where was home? They could find you anywhere.

A beat passed.

"I'm sorry." Changmin's head hung, either out of exhaustion or genuine regret. "I promised your sister I wouldn't get you involved."

You still couldn't move your head much, so you kept your gaze on the speckled ceiling. "What?"

"I have… had sisters."

You didn't hide your surprise. You didn't think you would ever get anything personal out of this guy, let alone the fact he had family. But his confession planted a seed of sympathy in you… maybe he was human before, or maybe he wasn't at all, but he had family. That had to count for something.

He released another haggard sigh. "So that was one of the few things we could agree on—keeping you out of this unless necessary."

Necessary. You should have never put on the necklace, should have never touched the cursed thing. Now, you were literally chained to it and its fate.

He went quiet again and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You thought he was going to say something else, but instead, he rose to his feet. Taking slow, careful steps, he made his way over to your body.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," he murmured as he tucked his hands under your armpits to haul you upright.

You cursed under your breath at the ache and the blood rushing to your head. Your left leg was pretty much useless, and he had to cup the nape of your neck to his shoulder so you could lean on him.

"Can you walk?" He asked, his breath by your ear again.

You shook your head, pressing your mouth against the muscle of his shoulder. He smelled like demon blood, and you shifted to lean your cheek on him instead, holding in a gag at the wretched stench.

"Okay. Hold on a second."

He helped you sit down on the ledge of the bed, before going around the room to collect things. He plucked up your backpack from the floor, then his own bag, hoisting them both over his shoulders before returning to you. From your vantage, you could see all the limp demon corpses lying on the ground, unmoving. You wrestled down the bile creeping up your throat and looked away.

Changmin scooped you up in his arms with a grunt, and you looped yours around his upper body, tucking yourself into him. "We have to get out of here before someone comes to check this shit out," he said to you as he exited the room.

You gave a nod. "Aren't you tired? Hurt?" You asked, guilt and fear twisting something horrid in your chest.

"Don't worry about me."

"How could I not?"

His lips twitched. "Oh, so you care about me now?"

You closed your eyes against his shoulder. "Don't be an asshole."

"Sure, sweetheart." He made it to the car and instructed you to reach around his back to get the car key hanging from his bag strap. Changmin managed to get the car door open and deposited you in your seat. Your body molded into the material, exhaustion settling once more into your bones and joints.

In a blink, the two of you were back on the road.

Changmin carded a hand through his damp hair as he pulled out onto the barren street. You rolled your head to the side, eyes drinking him in. There were scratches over his exposed skin, barely there, but still present as if they had healed over already. His clothes were splotched and stained, as well as ripped in other places. And of course, there was the blood smeared all over his face, his neck. The bastard didn't even look fazed.

Right, demon. What did that even entail?

Your eyelids were beginning to droop, yanked down by the force of gravity and the human necessity to sleep. You didn't want to sleep though; you didn't want to be attacked a third time. Though most of the adrenaline had dissipated, your shoulders were still tense, your senses alert and unable to relax just yet.

Changmin glanced over at you briefly. "You should sleep."

You moved your head. "Can't," you rasped.

He reached over then, his palm warm against your head, as he gently brushed his thumb over your eyelids to coax them closed. "You're safe with me, Yn," he promised. You were reluctant to believe him, but after what just happened, at least you knew he could take care of himself and you.

Sleep was already coaxing you into its jaws to devour you, and the pendant under your shirt pulsed to a steady beat to encourage your descent. "Morning will come soon."

All you could do now was trust him.

#5—THE ANGEL BLADE.

THE DINER OFF THE INTERSTATE was like the ones from the movies: red, vinyl seats that squelched when you scooted over them; blind fluorescent lights that flickered every time a fly died against them; people minding their own business as they hunched over grainy coffee and burgers that looked a little too good to be true. You sat across from Changmin, hands laced over the white table surface while he had his arms braided over his chest.

Another eight hours had passed since the motel. You'd found a rest stop to clean up and change clothes on the way, but when you could no longer deny your need for food, Changmin made the executive decision to feed the monster that was your stomach. Executive decision meant he was driving you somewhere to eat something so you wouldn't pass out from stubborn, self-induced hunger.

You're not gonna die if you want fries and chicken tenders, Yn, he'd said with a roll of his eyes.

Easy for him to say. He wasn't the target of every other supernatural being within a fifty mile radius. Perhaps by association, but still.

It was fascinating what a few hours of rest and magical demon saliva could do to help the human body. All of your wounds had pretty much closed up—albeit a tad sore, but nothing as awful as the pain you were in when being clawed in the moment. It was even more fascinating how alive Changmin looked despite literally not being alive. And the fact he hadn't slept a wink within the past day at least.

You, on the other hand, looked like a dumpster fire. Your hair was a bird's nest, eye bags more expensive than Louis Vuitton. Your stomach gave another whining growl; you'd ordered not five minutes ago with a middle-aged woman in too-bright red lipstick and a blue collared dress uniform.

"Are you sure you're not like, a vampire?"

His face dropped into a deadpan you'd seen before. "Oh my God."

"You can say His name?"

Your lips curled into a self-indulgent smile at the way he rolled his eyes so hard, he could probably see his brain back there. (If he had one.) "Sorry."

"You're not sorry," he said, eyebrow arching. "Do you have any real questions?"

Your hands shifted to your lap as your gaze moved to the window next to you. The sky was an ugly, sickly shade of gray-green. It reminded you of the lighting from the first Twilight movie, and you gagged at the thought. The bright red and neon of the diner clashed horridly with the sky, too. All of it was a little disconcerting.

Back in the car, when Changmin was first introducing you to the real world, he'd given you the short version of the supernatural who lived amongst oblivious humans. He hadn't gotten down to the nitty-gritty, just the shit he needed you to know so he could justify hauling you across the state, and to understand all the supernatural creatures after the little pendant resting beneath your shirt collar.

Two mugs of coffee were set onto your table, the dark liquid sloshing over the sides to stain the white below it.

You reached for your mug first, gently cooling it down with a breath. When you took a sip, gingerly, you grimaced. You somehow managed to wrestle the liquid down, but the searing bitterness was enough to make you push the cup away and reach for the sugar packets at the end of the table.

Changmin watched you in amusement, tongue poking the inside of his mouth.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you ripped a Stevia packet open. "What're you laughing at?"

"M'not laughing," he shrugged. He picked up his cup of coffee, clinked it against yours for good measure, then chugged the cup of shit in one sitting.

You watched in ill-concealed disgust, horror, and… maybe you were a little impressed.

When he set the drained cup on the table, he wiped his smug mouth with a napkin from the aluminum dispenser.

It was your turn to deadpan. "Show off," you muttered, stirring your artificial sweetener into the dark brown brew.

He shrugged again. "What? Like it's hard?"

"Oh my god, you can be funny."

Your chicken tenders arrived. Steam wafted from them and you closed your eyes to inhale the beautiful smell. Happiness on a plate, you liked to think.

Changmin thanked the waitress who had also delivered him a plate of blueberry pancakes. He eyed you quietly as you inhaled the food on your plate, despite the dull throbbing in your throat.

You caught his gaze, stopping mid-tender. "Want some?" You asked after swallowing the bite, gesturing to your fries.

He shook his head and began buttering up his hotcakes. "Nah. Have at it."

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence as you ate your separate meals. Changmin had told you before that demons didn't need all the typical things humans needed to "survive" or "live." Technically, since he was undead, there were only a handful of ways he could die. Eating and sleeping were necessary for human life, but they were more so preferences for him. If he wanted to eat, he could eat. If he wanted to close his eyes and dream, he could try.

The thought had you waving a fry at him. "The switchblade," you began, drawing his attention and pancake-stuffed cheeks, "what was it? It definitely wasn't something human-made."

Changmin swallowed his bite. "It was an angel blade."

"You're kidding," you drawled in disbelief.

He challenged your stare. "Believe it or not, it was. Forged up there." He lifted the prongs of his fork up toward the ceiling, shaking his bangs out of his eyes.

Your jaw dropped. "So the Big Man Upstairs does exist?"

"I mean, I don't really know. I've never met him if he does. I just know the angels are ruled by the Seraphim," he told you. "Lots of hierarchical bullshit I didn't care to pay attention to."

He impaled another piece of pancake. "Angel blades are one of the few things that can kill a creature like that."

"A demon?" You asked.

"Yes. Lower level demons are easier to kill, especially with a blade like the one I gave you." He shoved the bite into his cheek to continue, "That's why I was able to take on multiple at once."

You made a noise of indignation. "So you're telling me you're a higher level demon?"

His shoulders fell in a half-hearted shrug.

"Helpful," you muttered as you washed your meal down with bittersweet coffee. You paused for a moment, cleaning your fingers off with a napkin. "The… the licking thing."

Changmin's eyes could not meet yours. "Mhm."

"Do you… do you do that often?"

"No," he said curtly. "That party trick only works on humans and I don't really enjoy the taste of blood."

You pursed your lips at his rather clipped response. "Oh." You recalled the sound he'd made as he cleaned your blood up with his tongue at the motel… maybe it was something out of disgust. You suddenly felt out of place, like you had made his shoulders tense up and the air crackle. You racked your brain. "I—thanks, by the way."

With a cough, he murmured, "Welcome. Couldn't have you dying on me."

You nursed your coffee cup, reaching up to absentmindedly fondle the pendant under your shirt. "Yeah."

"Have you ever met an angel?"

The car was quiet as Changmin peered over his shoulder to switch lanes, the blinker tick-tocking away until it was turned off. "Yeah."

You stared out the front windshield to count the white colored cars on the highway amongst you. "What're they like?"

"They're like every other species," he said, unenthused. "Some are more asshole-ish than others. You'll find good ones and bad ones." A sigh. "The ones I've met have largely been the latter though."

"Oh." You weren't sure if you were disappointed by that answer.

The diner had been less than half an hour ago and you were back on the road again. Yours and Changmin's ETA to your sister's safehouse was supposedly another five or so hours. You couldn't believe she owned safehouses. For fuck's sake, she lived with you for majority of the time before she went to study abroad… she probably wasn't even abroad all those times, you realized anxiously.

It was like he could sense your change in mood from bored curiosity to tense overthinking. He dug around in the pocket of his pants and handed you the pommel of the switchblade from the motel. Angel blade, he'd called it.

You glanced at him in question, but he only pushed it into your palms.

"Get comfortable with it," he said. "It's a decent size as far as angel blades goes, since those fuckers don't really like to give them up. It's good for self defense."

The blade looked like something one could buy at a gift shop, slim with some heft, painted a shiny white color. There was no logo on it, but if you looked at it from the right angle, it shimmered. You unlocked it and let the blade whip out of the slot. The blade was shaped like any other box cutter you've seen before, but the underside had a serrated edge for extra ease in slicing through tougher materials. Your finger ghosted over the glowing metal, silver warming to a yellow-orange, but only if you didn't blink in the daylight.

You killed a demon with this. The blade burned the creature.

"How'd you get this if they don't like giving these up?" You asked as you figured out how to put the blade back into its sheath.

His fingers drummed against the wheel. "Won it in a poker game," he said.

Your eyebrows lifted. "Seriously?"

You swore there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Seriously."

With nothing better to do, you flicked the blade in and out, in and out. You'd only ever really held blades in the kitchen and when opening packages. "Do you have a name for it?"

"A name?"

"Yeah," you said, shifting slightly in your seat as an ache crept into your spinal cord, "y'know like the fantasy books where they name their blades." You inspected the switchblade again, rotating it in your hands. "Looks like a Clyde."

Changmin let out a huff from his nose. "Clyde?"

"What? Got any better ideas?"

"How about we don't name dangerous utilities for murder," he drawled.

"I can't believe you didn't just say 'weapons.'" When he didn't answer you, you made an indignant little noise you hoped annoyed him and admired the angel blade in your hand in a new light. Clyde. Hi, Clyde. You're pretty.

"Don't tell me you're communicating with it," he said to you.

You ran your finger over the flat side again with a fond smile—just to annoy him. "It doesn't give me lip."

A sigh. He tended to do that a lot. "How's your neck?"

Your hand lifted to your throat and massaged it lightly. "It's doing alright. Does it still look bruised?"

You tilted your neck so he could take a good look at it. He eyed the span of flesh there, his dark irises taking on a strange tint. The corner of his mouth curled downward as he turned his focus back to the road. "Yeah."

"It doesn't hurt as bad anymore, if that's any better."

"I guess," he grumbled. "Humans are so fragile."

"Hey man," you huffed, "is it my fault that I don't have magic spit or my skin doesn't heal fast—"

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's not magic spit. That's just how human biology reacts to demon saliva." Changmin tapped the back of his hand on the steering wheel as a vague gesture.

You shifted in your seat to look at him and so that you could take pressure off one side of your back. "I have a question. Why does demon saliva have healing properties when usually lore says that you guys are opposite in nature? Actually, that kind of sounds prejudicial," you thought aloud.

"It is prejudicial," he replied. "Well, mostly. It depends on the demon, but we're just like any other species. It's just that most pop culture depicts us as evil. Demons and vampires are derivations of each other in that—"

"So you are a vampire!"

He didn't even try to counter you this time. "Both species have saliva that can heal wounds, not large wounds, but you can probably imagine that vampires use it to seal puncture marks post-meal."

That made sense to you. "But why do demons need it?"

"Human blood…" he trailed off for a moment as he narrowly missed a car zooming past, his glaring eyes trailing after them, "...is like our saliva. It regenerates us. It's kind of like an energy drink, so it's not a necessity, but more so like a luxury or privilege."

You swallowed and you could've sworn you heard a soft huff from his mouth like a laugh. The thought of your blood being like an energy drink for him—and he'd literally licked your wounds clean at the motel that night. Was that how he was able to heal so quickly? It was a marvel he hadn't drunk you dry. But then again, he'd also said blood wasn't his taste…?

"Are you sure you don't like human blood?" You asked, sounding like a broken record, but more apprehensively this time.

"Sweetheart, you really think you'd still be here if I did?"

Touché.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Changmin stiffen. His hands tightened the slightest amount around the steering wheel, his eyes darting from the front windshield to the rearview mirror.

"What?" You asked, taking a look through the side mirror on your side. "What's wrong?"

Changmin's face washed over in a careful blankness. "We're being followed."

Your whole body tensed and you had to physically restrain yourself from twisting around in your seat. "What?"

"Hey, stay calm." He flicked his turn signal on casually as he exited off the freeway.

"Why are you telling them where we're going?!" He was literally signaling to whoever was following you exactly your next move.

"Just because we're on the run, doesn't mean we shouldn't follow basic driving safety."

You sent him a very emboldened stink eye. "Out of all the times, you choose now to have a sense of humor and to be an upstanding citizen?" Where was this during the entire road trip thus far?

Changmin made no other comments as he turned right onto the street leading further away from the freeway. You sat quietly for a moment, monitoring the cars behind you from your side mirror. Your knee started bouncing as you took note of the white sedan following behind, not tailgating, but its intentions were clear enough where even you could pick it out.

"What're we gonna do?" You murmured.

Changmin glanced over at you briefly. "We're gonna be fine. We just have to lose them."

"No shit."

"And you say I give you lip?"

Without any forewarning, Changmin jerked the car to the left, practically zooming across the intersection to catch the yellow light. Your whole body sailed across the center console, and before you could give him a piece of your mind, he was sending you crashing into your doorway from another sharp turn. You glared daggers at him, but turned to peer out your window.

The white car was still following after you. They must have run the red light then.

Changmin's sharp eyes sliced across the rearview mirror, and his foot lowered on the gas pedal like a challenge. His eyes whipped back and forth for somewhere he could go next, brain working double the speed. "Hold onto something, sweetheart."

"I don't think that would—HELPPP!" You sputtered and yanked on the handle above the door, hugging yourself to that side of the car.

You could hear the tires of Changmin's car burn rubber and squeal as he zigzagged through streets. You were pretty sure half of this was residential, you thought as the landscape blurred past.

"Do you even know where—" You swore as your body flailed around from another one of his god awful swerves, "—we are?"

He shook his head and floored the gas. "Nope."

Great.

It was about fifteen minutes of this supposed drag racing before his driving finally began to even out. You were seconds from hurling up diner food when you realized…

"Where the fuck did the trees come from?" You asked, lowering your tense form from the door handle.

You pressed your nose against the window to gawk up at the towering trees on your side of the vehicle, all dark green and beautiful. A light fog clung to some of the leaves, making the sunlight streaming through them look like golden strands of gossamer. The road you drove on held to the side of the mountain, but from what you could tell, Changmin had officially lost the white sedan.

Changmin visibly relaxed. "You might wanna pull up a GPS."

You reached over to your phone in the cupholder. But you pretty much tossed it right back. "No bars. Where did you take us?" You didn't even realize there was so much forest in this area. How come you hadn't seen it from the highway?

He gave a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. "Shit."

The car sunk into silence. Changmin could do nothing else but follow the road until you hit civilization or some kind of sign as to where you two were. You hadn't been in this part of the state before, so it wasn't like you could point out any landmarks. But as you both continued along, you settled into a sort of calm—the trees here were beautiful, untouched by man. Even from inside the car, you could feel the serenity.

Your finger pressed down on the button on your door to lower the window. You stuck your head out, hair flowing behind you. With a great inhale, your mouth broke into a smile. It smelled just as gorgeous as it looked. Fresh and clean and—

"You've got to be shitting me."

You pulled yourself back into the car and raised the window back up. "What?"

Changmin's mouth was set in a firm line, a dimple pressing deep into his cheek. "Wolves."

Your brows knitted together. "Huh?"

"We're in wolf shifter territory."

Just as he said this to you, the car rounded the side of the bend and revealed a large green sign that read: WELCOME TO MOONSTONE CREAK! Population 276.

The sign following it did not make you feel any better: CAMPERS! BEWARE OF WOLVES.

#6—BEWARE OF WOLVES.

AT THE FIRST SIGN OF WOLVES, you sunk low in your seat. You'd made eye contact with one of the furry creatures hidden in the brush, their sharp predator eyes narrowing at the sight of a foreign entity in their woods.

"By wolf shifters," you said quietly, holding onto Clyde in your lap, "you mean like… werewolves?"

Changmin's eyes stayed on the road ahead, but every once in a while, you would catch him scanning the forest, too. "Those aren't the same things. Werewolves are the things you read about in lore, half-man and half-wolf. Wolf shifters can change completely from man to wolf and vice versa."

"Oh." Well, that cleared some things up. "I'm guessing they don't take kindly to trespassers?"

He bit his lip. "I mean, it depends on the pack. If my hunch is right about where we are though, we shouldn't have to worry."

You gulped. "And if you aren't?"

"Well, I told you to get used to that angel blade, right?"

The trek further into the forest and mountains continued. The scenery around you was still as stunning as it was before, and you thought to yourself how dangerous a beautiful thing could be. Every time you peeked out of the car window, you saw a flash of something in the woods beyond the road. There had to be a reason why they hadn't attacked the car yet, right? If this was a pack of wolves who didn't like trespassers, then why were you and Changmin still alive?

Maybe they wanted you in a place where there was no chance of outsiders hearing you scream…

Your intrusive thoughts were getting to you.

There was a dead end, a near broken road sign and fence directing all passers-by that this was the end. Changmin was forced to take the off-road path, beaten into the dirt as it wound through the forest. If you didn't have signal up on the main road, you definitely would not have any here.

It was a few more minutes of traveling down the path that two wolves appeared before the car. Changmin brought the vehicle to a slow halt. The wolves were relatively large, spanning about six feet and about as tall as the bottom rim of the car door window. One of the wolves had black hair like a raven, and the other had hair like a field of grain.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as the wolves stared right at you. "Changmin…?"

He met their staring contest with little intimidation. "It's… it's fine. I think they recognize me."

After a moment, the two wolves broke their strange staring contest and trotted off to the side of the road. They were back so quickly, you almost didn't realize what had happened. Like magic, they had transformed into two toned young men, both nicely built with their lean upper body on display. They must have had a strategic stash of shorts hidden behind a tree for after they shifted to their human forms. One had cropped black hair, the other blond. Well, at least that made sense.

Changmin slumped in his chair, relieved. The corners of his mouth curled upward in an almost-smile, as the two wolf shifters came over to greet him at his window.

The brunette bent his head down to the window with a broad smile, the kind that made your stomach fill with butterflies. (Not to mention the eyeful of abs you and Changmin were getting…) He leaned his arms over the top of the car window, eyes flickering from the demon to you. "Long time no see, Changmin. Who's your friend?"

"That's Yn," your demon guardian said, clasping one of the man's hands in greeting. He reached for the second wolf shifter. "Haknyeon, nice to see you, too."

"Good to see you, Changmin" said the blond.

Oh, so he knew them.

Changmin gestured to the two men. "Yn, this is Kevin and Haknyeon. They're with the pack."

"Not that we're unhappy to see you," Kevin drawled, "but how did you find us?"

Okay, wait. If Changmin knew them, then why wouldn't he know the location of their pack? You sat quiet, waiting for someone to explain it to you… or just explain everything to you.

"Someone was following us and I lost them," Changmin told them, "but I managed to get us lost, too. Coincidence that we ended up here. I'm glad it's you guys and not another pack."

Kevin's eyebrows flew up. "Yeah, for sure. Well—" he turned his head up toward the treetops and scanned the skies. They were beginning to bruise like your skin as the sun sank somewhere amongst the trees and into the horizon. You hadn't even realized how dark it was starting to get. "—sun's already pretty low right now. Why don't you guys shack up with us tonight and then we'll help you out in the morning?"

"That would be great actually." Wow, really? You kept your surprise at bay. "Lead the way."

With no further discussion needed, Kevin and Haknyeon disappeared behind the same large tree trunk from before, then re-emerged as the wolves from before. Kevin, the one with black colored fur, pointed with his snout in the direction the path would take you. The two wolves began to trot down the path, and Changmin waited for them to get somewhat ahead before he flicked his headlights on and followed.

It was a curious act of consideration, you thought.

You watched as the wolves began to pick up speed, your eyes flickering to the speedometer. "So…" you drawled, "what the fuck just happened?"

A sharp huff, his version of a laugh. "They're old friends," he said.

"How'd you not know this was where their pack was if they're old friends?"

"I met them out of the pack," he explained. "It was somewhere in the New England area, and we just happened to be hunting the same thing."

Hunting? Oh, bounty hunter. Right. "And the—the shifting thing."

"What about it?"

You made a face of frustration. He always made you pull teeth when you wanted background information. "Everything."

He glanced at you. "I think it'd be better if one of them explained it to you. Better to have one of their own say it right than risk me getting something wrong."

That was, unfortunately, a very fair answer.

Instead of pushing on the wolf topic, you had more questions that he could answer. "So what now? Are we just gonna stay the night? Is it safe?" What if that white car found a way in here? Neither of you could see who the driver was, and so how could either of you be sure they weren't trying to perhaps get you both here? And if they also had the means to come in here without being marked as trespassers?

"It's safe," he said with such confidence that you arched your brows. He saw your expression, making a soft turn along the road as the wolves had, the pads of his fingers lifting off the steering wheel for a second in gesture. "I know what you're probably thinking, but it's safer than sleeping out in a motel off the highway, alright? Packs usually don't drive cars, and they have maybe one or two for convenience sake. They can smell trespassers from miles away, and they usually have people on watch all the time, which is how they found us so quickly."

You supposed that made sense. The forest here seemed denser, and with the quickly fading light, it made it all the more unnavigable. If you were to try to run… good fucking luck.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. As the car rounded the bend, yours and Changmin's faces illuminated with the glow of light.

The town was laid out flat before you, not over a ridge, not over a mountain, but a path that led into a central meeting place with wooden buildings all around it. The lights were all from candle-lit lanterns rather than the LEDs and fluorescents of the human world. There were a mixture of both wolves and people milling about, an air of warm cheeriness that you could feel even from the car. You felt a fuzziness manifest in your chest at the sight.

Kevin and Haknyeon directed Changmin toward a back road to the right behind a row of buildings. It was most likely to avoid getting in the way of the pack members, you guessed. You kept silent as you averted your eyes from the void-like darkness of the forest beyond to your right.

Up ahead, you saw the two wolves trot into a small paved area with one other car parked along the walkway. It seemed to be like a makeshift alleyway of sorts between two blocks of buildings. With some maneuvering, Changmin managed to parallel park into the space that was just big enough for his vehicle.

When he parked, he gestures for you to follow his lead and get out of the car. "You should be safe to come out with me. We'll probably meet the pack alpha and get everything settled—" His head tilted to the side, "—hopefully."

Your eyes shuttered. "Hopefully?" You echoed. Pack alpha? What the fuck did that entail? From what you remember in the books and shows, you thought to yourself as you clambered out of the car and stretched your sore limbs, wolf packs had an alpha that would lead everyone. You weren't sure if you would have to go through some kind of cult initiation or something to be granted permission to stay the night.

The angel blade sat tucked into the pocket of your pants along with your phone, and you slammed your car door shut. From here, you could peer down the alley and see out into the glowing atmosphere of the town center. It sounded like fun, actually—all of the chatter and laughter. You hadn't been anywhere so lively-sounding in awhile.

"Yn right?"

You startled a little, whirling around to find the brunette—Kevin was his name—smiling at you sheepishly. He was back in human form with a pair of shorts and a plain white T-shirt on. "Sorry I snuck up on you," he said.

"Oh, it's totally fine!" You laughed bashfully, smoothing a hand down your hair. "And yes, I'm Yn. You're Kevin, right?"

Man, he was so much prettier up close…

Kevin nodded. "Yeah, it's nice to meet you. Changmin says this is all pretty new to you." He gestured loosely to the world around him, an all encompassing notion to the entire world you had just unearthed beneath your nose.

Your eyes darted behind Kevin where Changmin and Haknyeon were gathered on the other side of the car, pulling yours and Changmin's bags out the backseat. Changmin caught your eyes, lifted his eyebrows, then returned to his conversation.

So he was just gonna leave you in the hands of the very handsome wolf shifter? Cool.

"Yeah, it's kind of a crazy story," you mused. Understatement of the century. "Thanks for taking us in, by the way.

"It's no worries," he chirped. "Changmin and us? We go back pretty far, I'd like to think."

"Oh, cool! He mentioned something about that… and something about meeting the pack alpha?"

Kevin's eyes flickered to something behind you, and you turned around to see what or who it was on instinct. "It's nothing to stress about—he's coming this way, actually."

You felt his hand, warm and large, gently settle between your shoulder blades to guide you toward the two men making their way down the alley toward you both.

One of them… well you could feel the subtle shift in the air. It was as if molecules in the air moved for him. He boasted a powerful sort of stature, with dark hair parted neatly to frame a carved face. For a moment, you didn't know if you were supposed to bow or something, but then he smiled, and you nearly fell over from that alone. He wasn't so scary once he smiled.

The man next to him was a lighter brunette with a cheery expression engraved onto his face as if that were his default setting. There was something about him, however—you thought he glowed a little in the dim light. The angel blade in your pocket seemed to warm slightly at the sight of him.

(So was everyone just super attractive in the supernatural world?)

"Changmin-ah," greeted the man with darker colored hair. He clasped his hand with Changmin's in greeting. "It's been awhile."

"It has," your demon counterpart agreed. "Thanks for taking us in on such short notice. I wouldn't have intruded had I known."

The man brushed the thought away. "It's okay, really. Nice to have a couple new faces around."

"Speaking of new faces," drawled the second man. He beamed a pretty smile your way, waving. "Hi, little one."

Something warm blossomed in your chest. "Hi," you said softly. You weren't certain of etiquette—if you were expected to speak for yourself, to bow…

But it seemed Kevin had your back. He clasped his warm hand on your shoulder. "This is Yn. She came in with Changmin."

"Nice to meet you, Yn. I'm Sangyeon." This was the man with black hair, who felt like the tangible version of power. He must have been the pack alpha. He had to be.

The other man placed a hand on his chest. "And I'm Jacob!"

"We're just looking for a place to stay for the night," Changmin piped up. He tucked his hands into his pockets, eyes shifting over to yours.

"Well, why don't we head over to the pack house and we can talk about all the details of a plan," said Sangyeon. He inclined his chin in the direction of where you assumed the pack house was. Then his eyes, you watched their keen movements, latched onto Kevin's as if they were communicating silently. "Yn," you nearly jolted when you realized he was addressing you. "Kevin's gonna take you to the small inn we have here. It'll give you a little more privacy, and I'm sure you've felt pretty overwhelmed."

It didn't sound like he was asking you, but there was a warmth to his smile. You couldn't help but feel inclined to agree.

Changmin's head went on a swivel. "Wait, she's not coming with us?"

Haknyeon and Jacob were already rounding on either side of him to guide him in the opposite direction Kevin was leading you. Something in the back of your head made you turn over your shoulder to look at him. Was being separated such a bad thing?

Haknyeon suddenly tossed Kevin your backpack, the latter shouldering it.

"Come on, Yn," Kevin chirped, angling his body as he nudged you along so you could no longer see Changmin. "There's a lovely hearth in the main lobby, and the auntie who runs the place makes the best cookies ever."

You nodded slowly as your brain struggled to think of any reason why they would separate you from Changmin. And why did he sound so surprised? Your hand drifted toward the pocket that hid your angel blade. "Oh, really? That sounds nice."

They didn't drug them, did they? Your shoulders tensed at the idea.

Why did they separate you and Changmin—

The inn was the building right outside the alley with a porch that spanned the front facade. The architecture reminded you of an upscale cabin with large oak logs piled atop each other to make up the structure. A warm light emitted from the front windows and glass doors, and you swore you could smell the cookies from here.

When you and Kevin entered the building, he called out a greeting to an older woman stationed behind a reception desk in the back corner. She greeted the both of you with a cordial smile, wiggling her fingers in a wave. Her head tilted curiously at you, however, her eyes zeroing in on…

Your attention was drawn away and you were directed toward the seating area on the other side of the lobby.

"Can I get you any water or anything?" Kevin asked you as he motioned for you to take a seat in the armchair adjacent to him. He set your backpack at your feet for you.

You lowered yourself onto the edge of the seat, hand reaching for the pendant beneath your shirt—you stopped short. Could he sense the power of the pendant? Was that why they separated you from your demon bodyguard? Oh fuck—

"Hey, hey," Kevin suddenly said softly, face morphing into an expression of concern. "No need to get panicked, okay? You're safe now."

Wait. What? You wrung your hands in your lap, heart still throwing itself up against your ribcage. "Safe? What do you mean safe? Safe from what?"

Kevin considered you for a moment, but the gentleness from his voice and body language never left. "You're safe from Changmin."

"Safe from Changmin?"

"Yes," he affirmed patiently. "The bruises on your neck—"

Your hand went to cover the side of your throat where it had been pierced by the maw of a demon, but not Changmin.

"—does he feed from you? They look fresh—"

You immediately put your hands up to gesticulate in wild opposition. "Oh, no, no, no. He—he didn't feed from me; he saved my life, actually. We were attacked by other demons and I was bleeding out, and he just closed the wounds. He… he isn't, uhm… yeah."

Kevin's posture changed, and his smile became relieved—sheepish even. "Well, shit. I'm sorry for assuming, Yn; it's just that a lot of people end up here because they're in unhealthy relationships, and I saw the marks on your neck and just assumed the worst." He cupped the back of his neck. "This must have been really confusing for you. Sorry about that."

Okay, now that made a lot more sense. Your adrenaline was slowly teetering out and the tension left your shoulders. "No, please, that's honestly really nice that you would help victims like this. It did give me a little scare, but… yeah no, this wasn't Changmin's doing."

"That eases my mind a lot," he chuckled. Then he turned and nodded to the auntie behind the reception desk. You watched as she disappeared out the doors of the inn. "She's just gonna let Sangyeon know that everything's good."

"I thought you said you and Changmin go way back…?" Did they not trust him?

Kevin leaned back in his armchair. "We do. It's just protocol, you know? Whether or not we know them, it doesn't matter."

That was good for victims, you thought. Though, you couldn't imagine what they were really discussing with Changmin then… "So Changmin…"

"Sangyeon, Jacob, and Haknyeon would have taken care of him if I told them he was harming you," he replied, lips pressed together. "They really are talking about how you both ended up here though—that, and plans for the morning."

It was like he could read your mind.

A lot had happened just now, and you were still reeling from the fact that you didn't need to prepare to run. Though, you were still hyperaware of Clyde's warmth in your pocket.

Kevin noticed your far-off expression. He leaned forward onto his knees, that kind smile of his curling onto his face and making you feel some sort of woozy. "I know it's probably been a lot for you. Do you have any questions for me?"

He was so different from Changmin. While with the demon getting information was like pulling teeth, here was Kevin offering you information. They were polar opposites, really. You wondered what it might have been like if Kevin had been the one to take you on this quest instead—your mind shuttered. What a strange thought. Changmin might have been a pain in your ass in the beginning (and still now), but… it wasn't like he hadn't protected you. You didn't know.

"I guess," you started, "what's gonna happen now?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Well, uhm, I think we're both gonna find out once Changmin gets back. See what they've all decided on. But for sure, you and he will be able to shack up here for the night."

You gave a slow nod. "Is Sangyeon the pack alpha? Kind of a stupid question—"

"It's not a stupid question at all," Kevin said. "But yes, he's the pack alpha. You can just consider him as a community leader, essentially."

"And you're all wolf shifters?"

A nod, then he paused, tilting his head. "Yes, but Jacob's not a wolf shifter; he's an angel."

Your eyebrows flew up. Everything was suddenly making a lot more sense. "An angel? So he and Changmin aren't, like, mortal enemies or anything?" You hadn't noticed any wings on him…

Kevin laughed. "Oh, you're cute. No, thankfully they are not mortal enemies. Jacob's too nice to have enemies."

"Even someone like Changmin?" You jested.

"Even someone like Changmin," he said, humoring you. "Speaking of the demon, you two aren't…?"

You sucked in a breath. "Definitely not. We're not together or anything. It's a long story, but our meeting and traveling together is just because of a common goal." You couldn't tell why the thought of you and Changmin being an item made your heart cartwheel. Perhaps it was simply the anxiety of being thought of as Changmin's significant other that made you want to jump to correct that assumption. Yes, that was it.

Kevin bit his bottom lip like he was trying to hide a smile. "Ah, I see. That's good to know."

"And why's that?" You asked.

You could have sworn if he was in wolf form, his ears would have been tucked against his head. "Nothing!" He insisted. "It would just be a shame to not take a chance when it's presented, you know?"

You weren't quite sure what he meant by that, but for some reason, you were eager to find out.

It was late still when Changmin knocked on your open door, lingering on the threshold. You had just stepped out of the shower in the private en suite your accommodations had, a towel settled upon your shoulders to act as a barrier between your wet hair and dry clothes. He didn't look any worse for wear—then again, he never did.

"Everything okay with Kevin?" He asked, clearing his throat. You felt his eyes on you, scanning your body as if searching for any signs out of the ordinary.

You were searching for your phone charger in your bag. "Yeah, it was good. What—what happened with you?" You asked and lifted your eyes to meet his as you fondled the cord between your fingers.

He stuck his tongue in his cheek. "Well," he drawled, "Sangyeon offered to send a small group out to scout for any signs of our pursuers from today. In the meantime, we're invited to stay here to recuperate for a couple days. If not, then they'll restock our supplies and help us out of here."

"I'm guessing you already made a decision." You paused when you realized there weren't any outlets in this room. Anywhere. A curse fell from your lips and you dumped your cord and dead cell phone into your bag.

"I figured you could use the rest," he said.

Your head whipped upward.

He arched a brow at you. "If that's alright with you."

Was he really asking you? No buts, no ifs, no snark? "Yeah, that's fine with me."

"Maybe a couple days here will be good for your frail, human body anyway."

There it is. You rolled your eyes so far back, you swore you saw your brain waving at you. "And maybe some fake demon sleep will make you less grouchy."

You thought he smiled. It could have been a trick of the light or sleep deprivation. "Whatever."

Just when it seemed like he was about to turn and leave, he stopped. "Kevin's taken a liking to you."

You stilled, attention piqued. "Really? How could you tell?"

Changmin gauged your reaction, and again, you couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. "You need to sleep."

"Wait, you're just gonna ignore my—and he's gone." You huffed and collapsed onto the bed. It was awfully comfortable.

Leave it up to Changmin to leave you high and dry like that.

You rolled over the surface of the bed to close your door. Quietly, you went around the room to close the knobs of the lanterns to put out the lights like Kevin had showed you earlier. The only light now came from outside the window, the campfire and lanterns in the pack center streaming through the shutters to create an elongated stripe pattern along the walls and floors.

You climbed into bed—it was a strange, but welcomed feeling.

Only a couple days without a bed, yet it felt like years had passed. You could only hope you didn't wake up to a demon at your throat this time.

#7—THE ONLY ONE.

WOLVES BEAT EVEN THE SUN from her slumber, you came to find out. The next morning, you rolled out of bed to hear the sound of muffled voices outside your window. Your body ached in places you didn't even think they could ache, and you stretched your arms up over your head as you opened the shutters.

Just a little off from your window stood a small gathering of creatures, both in human and wolf forms. You recognized Kevin as one of the human ones among them. It was the noise of your open shutter that had him turning his head up toward your window. He saw you there, and a smile blossomed on his face, bright and easy. He wasn't wearing a shirt again, as was the other man standing beside him. The other two in their group were wolves.

Kevin waved at you, catching the attention of the others with him. The man beside him beamed and waved, too.

You chuckled to yourself and returned the gesture.

Kevin beckoned you down with his hand.

You searched the window sill for the latch, muttering in triumph when you managed to notch it open.

He had walked over to stand directly below your window by the time you stuck your head out. "Good morning!" He chirped. "Good sleep?"

"Good morning, and so far I think so," you mused, unconsciously smoothing down your hair. You hadn't even checked the state of your bed head. Yikes.

"There's breakfast in the pack house if you'd like," he offered. "I can walk you over?"

You leaned your cheek against your fist. "Sounds great. Give me some time to get ready."

"Take your time!"

You locked the window back up, dropped the shutters, and hurried to get changed. It occurred to you, as you were getting yourself prepped and primed to face another day in a new world, that you hadn't felt so giddy in awhile. And about a boy nonetheless. The skip in your step was crazy to you, and—did you even have anything nice to wear?

You just managed to yank one of the nicer of your graphic tees over your head when you heard a knock at the door.

"Just a second!" You called, carding your fingers through your hair and separating into three so you could braid it out of your face.

You ripped the door open. "Hi."

Changmin stood on the other side looking slightly refreshed with his dark hair damp and plastered over his forehead. His eyes narrowed slightly at your lightened countenance, the way you actually cared about how you were doing your hair, the… everything. He sent you a look. "Breakfast is in the pack house, but I have a feeling you already knew that."

"Yeah, I was just headed down, actually." You stepped out into the hallway with him, closing your bedroom door behind you. Clyde sat in your pocket, replacing where your phone would have been stashed had it any use.

He cocked his head to the side. "You seem a lot more…" He made a gesture with one of his hands. "Alive."

"Well, considering I don't have magic regeneration—"

"Forget I said anything," he said, shaking his bangs from his eyes and beginning to walk down the corridor toward his room. "Go get sustenance, Yn."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You watched him disappear into his room before you made your way to the stairs.

Kevin was waiting for you in the lobby, perking up when you appeared on the stairway landing and made your descent. He took a couple steps to meet you in the middle, and you noticed that he had found a shirt to put on. Damn. "Hope you like waffles," he said as the two of you fell into step beside each other to head out of the inn.

"Love 'em."

It seemed that the entirety of Moonstone Creak was awake, even at such an early hour. The sun had yet to even clamber up above the treetops, leaving the sky a soft mesh of purple and orange. The air was as fresh as it had been yesterday, cool and pure, washing your lungs and waking you up some more.

"Is everyone awake so early?" You asked him, inhaling as much of the peace as you could.

Kevin nodded. "Pretty much, unless you're just coming back from a night watch. We usually encourage the pups to come out and exercise with us."

"Us?"

"The pack's primary watch," he clarified. "You probably saw me talking to a few of them earlier."

"Ah," you hummed. "That's nice though. You're all such a lovely community… It's refreshing."

His eyes twinkled as he smiled at you. "Thank you. I like to think we're a really big family."

You could see as much. By the way Kevin greeted all of his fellow pack members, a part of you wondered what it might have been like to grow up somewhere like this instead of always chasing after safety and security.

You and your sister had always got by somehow, but it had never been like this. With your parents gone so early in both of your lives, you only really had each other to rely on, besides the occasional aunt and uncle who took turns caring for the both of you until your sister turned 18. And now with your sister gone?

For some reason, it felt like you were still taking care of her in death. But perhaps that was the cost of seeking closure.

You weren't sure what you were expecting when they said pack house, but what you saw was about what it sounded like it was going to be. It was similar to the inn and many of the buildings around the area with its log cabin likeness, but this one was much, much larger. You could hear the squeals of children from out here, and there were smaller wolves chasing each other's tails around the wraparound porch. A few stopped to sit and cock their heads at you as you passed, their tails tick-tocking behind them.

It was strange seeing wolves carry around infants and toddlers in their hulking jaws, too, and Kevin chuckled when you almost stopped in your tracks. "It's no harm to them, don't worry."

"Yeah," you laughed nervously, fingering the pendant at your sternum. "It'll take some getting used to. Are you born as a wolf or as a human?" You asked him as the two of you stepped up the front steps of the porch and walked through the entryway.

"Depends—woah, hey guys. Careful!" Kevin clicked his tongue as he caught and lifted one of the younger boys off his legs just before he accidentally knocked over a table holding a vase of flowers.

The kid and his friend giggled as Kevin put him down away from the table. "Sorry Kevin!" And they were gone, out the front door.

He shared a smile with you, cupping the back of his neck. "Where was I?" He gestured to your right down a hallway; you could smell the sweetness and buttery goodness of breakfast. "Oh, right. It depends: since wolves and humans are mammals, giving birth is a little easier than other non-mammal shifters."

"Non-mammal shifters?" Your eyebrows shot up. "What other shifters exist?"

"Any you can think of, to be honest," he said. "All pups learn about their own growth and development though, especially since learning to shift and stay in touch with both their animal and human sides is so integral. It would probably be better if I connected you with someone who identifies as female to talk about birth specifically though," he admitted.

The kitchen was painted a pale shade of yellow that reflected the golden rays of sun and made the whole room much warmer and brighter. There was a mishmash of wolves and humans milling about the central island where a buffet-style breakfast was being served. The variety of food before you was enough to make even—as you liked to think—Changmin's mouth water. (He didn't need to eat, your ass. You saw the blueberry pancakes on the far end and wondered if he had some yet.)

Kevin passed you one of the plates stacked at the end before grabbing one for himself. "Lily, thank you for breakfast!"

Lily, you identified, was the woman leaning against the sink with a pale blue apron tied around her waist and baby bump. "You're welcome! Haknyeonie helped out, too."

Haknyeon's blond head poked in from where he was partly hiding in the butler's pantry, his cheeks stuffed with food. "Hm?"

You laughed to yourself as you started off by transferring a waffle to your plate. "Yes, thank you so much for breakfast. It looks delicious."

"Oh, no need for that," Lily beamed as she came over to the island across from you and put more food onto your plate. "Take more, please. We have so much to go around."

"Oh," you blinked, watching Kevin start to pile things onto his own plate. "It's so much; I don't want to take more than I can finish—"

"I'll help you finish," Kevin offered, shoving a strawberry into his mouth. "I'm sorry if it seems like we're pressuring you, though. I guess we're all just used to making sure the other is fed around here."

You could melt like a slab of butter between two warm hotcakes. "Thank you—I appreciate the thought."

Kevin ruffled your hair as the two of you continued around your tour of the island. "Of course."

From the entryway you had just come in, Sangyeon arrived whistling an offhanded tune under his breath. "Good morning, everyone!"

"Good morning!" Chorused around the kitchen at differing intervals as everyone greeted their pack alpha.

Sangyeon beelined around the island and over to Lily, the two of them exchanging fond touches and a warm kiss in greeting. "Morning, love."

"Good morning," Lily said. "Eaten yet?"

The dots connected in your head and you nudged Kevin as the two of you finished up at the island. "Lily and Sangyeon—?"

"Yeah, she's our alpha female," Kevin confirmed. "Six months pregnant. They celebrated nuptials about a year ago."

"Ah." You didn't mean to stare, but they were such a beautiful couple. Though you thought Sangyeon's smile was warm, it was nothing compared to the one he saved just for his partner.

He must have felt your eyes on him, and he lifted his gaze to yours while he held one of Lily's hands. "Yn, sleep well?"

Your eyes widened. "Oh, uh, yes. Yes, thank you."

"All of your accommodations are to your satisfaction, I hope?"

"More than satisfied," you stammered with a sheepish smile; he was talking to you, right? Everything was way beyond what you had been living with for the past couple of days. A demon-infested motel or this? Well, no competition there. You could still feel the impression of Changmin's passenger seat in your back.

Sangyeon nodded. "Good, I'm glad to hear that. I was hoping to speak with you and Changmin after breakfast about your situation. It'll be with myself and my closest advisors, plus the two of you."

"Yes, of course," you said. "Does Changmin already know?"

"I'll have someone run and let him know."

You and Kevin were dismissed to go forth with breakfast. The two of you settled in a room next door to the kitchen fitted with a long dining table that reminded you of a cartoon rich people banquet table. You sat adjacent to each other, Kevin at the head, and you with the seat to his left.

You smeared butter over the slots of your waffle. "Do I have to worry about what Sangyeon's gonna talk about at the meeting?"

Kevin shoved his bite into his cheek. "To my knowledge, no, but if you're worried, Sangyeon's advisors are a pretty cool crowd."

"Oh yeah?" You asked.

His lips turned up as he chewed. "Mhm," he hummed before swallowing, "I should know since I'm one of them."

Sangyeon had an office deep within the first floor of the pack house. It was tucked away somewhere between the living room in the back and the door down to the wine cellar. (Kevin joked that the first pack alpha had planned the layout of the first floor deliberately.)

Following your hearty breakfast, you found yourself seated in one of the armchairs in the leader's office chambers, amongst Changmin (in the chair next to you) and the other members of the so-called inner circle. Kevin lingered nearby, leaning against the office's hearth with his arms and ankles crossed idly. It seemed that the advising board included not just Kevin, but also Jacob, Lily, and someone named Juyeon. You learned that he was out on night guard when you came in last night, so you weren't able to properly meet him until now.

Sangyeon stood next to the office chair seated behind the grand, mahogany desk; Lily was automatically given the chair because of her pregnancy, and because she'd been working all morning. "Concerning the white sedan you said was trailing after you two yesterday—" he said, "—none of our scouts could follow a solid scent past the freeway entrance. It was interesting, actually."

Changmin leaned forward onto his forearms. "How so?" He asked, eyebrows creasing.

Sangyeon nodded to Juyeon, who filled in, "Well, we couldn't figure out what their scent is."

"How is that even possible?"

You blinked, brain whirring into overdrive. There was something you were missing yet again. What was the context here?

Kevin stepped over to your side and murmured to you, "We can usually pick apart scents to identify the layers, so this is why it's… concerning."

"Ah," you nodded. "Thanks."

"It was distinct for sure," Juyeon supplied with a vague gesture of his hands, "but it was nearly impossible to tell what species they were. It was easy enough picking apart the entity from the car smells—" Exhaust fumes, metal, seats, you assumed, "—and we could follow the smell as far as the entrance to the highway you guys came from, but…" He shook his head. "No-go. In all my years, I've never come across anything like it."

The helplessness that settled into the grooves of the room made you squirm, and your fingers fondled the red pendant at your collar again. Here was a space of the all-powerful, and yet, something as simple as a scent was throwing them all for a loop. You couldn't begin to wrap your head around the implications, because, well—you didn't know the implications.

(Dark. You were always sitting in the dark.)

Changmin passed you a glance, and you couldn't tell what he was thinking, as usual. "There has to be a way to somehow analyze it. Could we consult a witch?"

"I've already called an old friend," said Lily. "They're on their way over presently."

"Could I see the pendant?" Jacob's voice carried out into the room. Though he himself was soft-spoken, one could not mistake his volume. Everyone's attention cut over to you, and you wanted to be swallowed up by the earth beneath your feet. "If that's okay," he added. "It feels familiar."

"Feels?" You echoed, gripping the stone in your hand. The chain dug into the flesh of your neck as you anxiously yanked on it.

Changmin's eyes darted from the stone to you. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" You were overwhelmed; that was what you thought. You fisted it in your hand, suddenly reluctant to part with the thing that had caused you so much trouble as of late. You felt… an uncanny urge to keep it in your possession. "Uhm… you can see it, but I won't take it off."

Your devilish counterpart narrowed his eyes slightly, cocked his head to the side, at your behavior. He didn't say anything though, as if this truly was just all your decision. Perhaps this was because he knew that you weren't exactly buddies with these people yet. In retrospect, they were still strangers, and thus, potential threats to you.

Jacob took easy strides over to you from where he was standing by the desk. He passed you a reassuring smile as he knelt in front of you, close enough that you could see the eyelashes brush his cheeks. There was something warm radiating from him, and you swore you saw a flash of gold in his eyes.

Angel, right.

He rose up on his knees, holding out his hand, but not touching you. "May I?"

You pinched the part of the pendant attached to the chain and stuck it out toward him.

Jacob's eyebrows knitted together as he touched the pendant with only the tips of his fingers. You held your breath throughout the entirety of his assessment. When he finally leaned back onto his haunches, you blinked away whatever angelic warmth still lingered. "Juyeon, come smell the pendant."

Your eyes widened. "Uhm—"

"Hold on, what?"

"Wait, Jacob."

The latter two responses came from Changmin and Kevin, respectively, the two startling at Jacob's request.

There was a swift exchange of glances between everyone else and the alpha wolves in the room.

Lily said, "Yn?"

"Why are we sniffing the pendant now?" You asked, finding your voice.

Jacob looked up innocently. "Sorry, I probably should have explained myself. I think it might smell like the scent Juyeon was trying to track."

Something in the room shifted. You glanced down at the pendant in your grip and the questions in your head accumulated and accumulated and accumulated. What in Hell did you get me into, Sena?

"Okay," you said, "you can… smell the pendant."

You weren't sure why he couldn't smell it from where he was, but he took a couple steps over to you and replaced Jacob's position. Changmin's hand appeared on the arm of your chair as he leaned forward slightly.

Juyeon took a cautionary sniff, and his eyes widened. "That's it. It's—it was slightly different, but similar enough where it has to be the same entity." He looked up at you. "Is this the only one of its kind?"

You met Changmin's eyes.

He looked away first. "No."

Your gaze became earnest in his direction, and if you could, you would burn twin holes in the side of his head like a snakebite. More shit he hadn't told you. Were you surprised?

No? What did he mean no?

"We need to talk," you forced out of gritted teeth, gripping onto the arm of his chair now.

He passed you a glance. Later.

"Well, we can only really assume that the person following you was most likely after the pendant," Jacob said plainly as he stood from the ground and dusted off his pants. "But now that we know the origin of the scent, per se, it'll make the hunt a little easier."

Sangyeon gave a bob of his head. "Kevin, you're leading the search party for the day."

Kevin's head perked up, hand on the back of your chair. "But—"

A single look from his leader made his mouth snap closed.

"Yes, sir," Kevin murmured with a shallow nod of acknowledgement. He gave the back of your chair a small pat, then departed without another word from the office. You thought you could feel his presence leave your side, from the room. All of this feeling… was this how the supernatural operated? Was this what a sixth sense entailed all along?

"Juyeon—" the man in question raised his head, "—go find where Haknyeon and Eric are." Sangyeon scratched his temple with a sigh that sounded suspiciously like exasperation. "Grab them and round up the pups."

Juyeon brightened. "Are we taking them down to the creak?"

Lily nodded her approval. "Ooh, nice idea. Yn and Changmin, you're both free to join us. It's lovely down there."

You forced your hand to fall away from the pendant, but not before tucking it back beneath the collar of your shirt. It felt too exposed out here, sitting on your sternum for all to see. You nodded though, trying for a small smile. "Sure, sounds nice."

Sangyeon patted the desktop. "Excellent! The two of you can continue to make yourselves at home."

Though this was a physical conclusion to the meeting, your stomach continued to sit uncomfortably. This conversation should not have been over so quickly… right? Was there not more to discuss? Perhaps not now then. Maybe it was better to take your time letting this all sink in.

"Ah, before the two of you go join the little ones," Jacob cut in. He shot Changmin a pointed look. "You owe me something."

Changmin roughed a hand through his bangs, but you could have sworn his lips curled up with a smile. "Aish… your memory."

"It never fails me when I need it."

You glanced between the two; Changmin did owe you yet another explanation, but if there was something these two planned to settle… "What? What is it this time?"

Jacob grinned, and you definitely hadn't been hallucinating when you saw flickers of gold in his irises. "He owes me a sparring match."

a/n: i am clasping my hands in prayer for a reblog, comment, or ask. take a moment to grab a snack, drink some water, and head over to the second part! thanks for reading

read part two here (if it's not linked yet, refresh and it'll be at the top)

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @kflixnet

#kflixnet #deoboyznet #bjnet #the boyz x reader #ji changmin x reader #q x reader #changmin x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz drabbles #the boyz fanfic #ji changmin imagines #ji changmin oneshots #ji changmin drabbles #ji changmin scenarios

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kapriisunz · 5 months

Text

PHOTOS TO THE SOUL | Masterlist

Summary; When a forensic photographer unwillingly catches the eyes of two animals of prey. All three desperate for someone to understand them.

Hannigram x fem!reader

WARNINGS: Descriptions of blood and gore, cannibalism, murder + death, maybe smut not so sure yet.

══ஓ๑꒦꒷♡꒷꒦๑ஓ══

SEASON ONE; “Impression, Sunrise.”

Aperitif - ✍️

SEASON TWO;

SEASON THREE;

══ஓ๑꒦꒷♡꒷꒦๑ஓ══

A/N: This has been in the works for a long time and I’m glad to announce it/release it. Also sorry for the masc or non-binary readers, making a series off a fem!reader is a lot easier since I have the body type. Also this will be a poly relationship but slow burn-ish

#fanfic #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #will graham #hannibal lecter #will graham x reader #will graham nbc #hannigram x reader #hannigram

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the-kr8tor · 4 months

Text

Amidst the Waves

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller though), the reader has nicknames. CW food mentions, TW blood, CW injury, TW violence, TW gore, CW death, CW guns.

Navigation

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Chapter 3 >>> Chapter 4

You've heard all the stories that all pirates are criminals who would cut your throat without remorse for a single coin in your pocket. You've heard it enough from traveling bards and newsboys screaming out the pirates’ crimes every morning that it's ingrained in your psyche. The news about the navy hunting them all one by one hasn't passed you either. You remember walking through towns with pirates hanging from the noose, a warning to all pirates.

It's all everyone talks about, especially in small towns. it's impossible not to hear of the bloodsail pirates and their latest crimes. But now you're standing in their ship, wearing their clothes and eating their soup. A surprisingly good soup too.

If only your past self could see you now, she'd probably throw you overboard herself.

Ned, you've come to know, throws you a mop and a bucket full of hazy water that sloshes on the sides, almost spilling over your new-ish clothes. You're too tired for this.

“Careful now, that has lye” His friend, James, you’ve learned snickers on the side.

“Go swab the poop deck, land lover” Ned points above you, rows of stairs greeting you. “As for you,” he addresses the blond, “the deck”

“What?! Why does she only get the poop deck and I get the entire bloody main deck?!” He jumps off the railing, fuming.

“Complain more and you clean the bathrooms”

“No! Not the bathroom again.” James picks up a spare mop. “Look, I'm cleaning, yeah?” he mops like a madman all over the main deck.

You chuckle, Ned hears and he gives you a staring down, you clamp down immediately.

“Poop deck! I'm on it!”

Clambering up the stairs is easier said than done. With your new found sea legs and the waves bashing on the sides of the ship, you're fighting for your life.

“Need help?” Hobie suddenly appears on the top of the stairs, annoyingly munching on an apple.

You heave the bucket, staring at him while doing your best at taking the cleaning supplies up the creaking stairs. “I'm good” step.

“You sure? I'm offering you an olive branch here, scuttlebutt” he leans on the railing, not moving an inch to actually help you.

Step.

“You can keep your branch,” you wobble slightly when a large wave crashes on the side of the ship. But thankfully, you keep your balance. Step. Finally reaching the top, you exhale out proudly.

“I'm not fond of olives anyway” you side eye him before continuing to walk on the poop deck.

Another wave hits, the water sloshes out, barely missing your hands. “Shit”

“Careful, that has lye in it” he says with a chuckle.

—

You missed lunch because you scrubbed the entire poop deck clean. Your stomach grumbles as the sun sets and you remember your last day in that small fishing town. The orange glow never fails to make you smile but now it squeezes your heart. It's still a beautiful sight, the large body of water glitters from the light, almost like it's calling out to you.

Great, you're already going insane after a few hours. Pinching your arm, you shake your head. You can't wait to get on land.

Walking down, you walk on the deck with an empty bucket. The sea is much calmer now, the movement is pleasant, if you're in bed right now, you would've fallen asleep from the motion. The breeze picks up as you set the supplies down. You lean on the railing to rest your lower back while you admire the sunset.

James huffs a few feet away from you, still mopping the deck while Ned and a raven haired woman chats near him. They make comments on the side that makes James glare at them. You let them be, watching the sunset with your hand on your chin.

Your back and knees ache from the labour and your stomach roars again for something to eat. Maybe they still have the soup earlier.

There's a sudden presence next to you. Leather and sea salt enters your senses.

He rests a couple of feet away from you, just in case you try to push him off.

“What a view, huh?” Hobie, he looks at you through tired eyes.

“Verdict’s still out” You don't try to argue lest you ruin the rare peace and quiet on a busy ship.

“‘course it is.” He chuckles. There's a comfortable silence between you.

After a beat he speaks up without looking at you. “Go help in the galley.” Before you could retort something witty, he walks away from you. You swear you saw something in his eyes, you have no idea what.

Heading down to the ship's kitchen, you see Gwen just about leaving.

“Oh good you're here. Go help out with dinner” she instructs without stopping for you.

Entering the swinging doors, you can't protest or else, well you try not to think about it too much. The galley is cozy, not what you expected of a pirate ship's kitchen to say the least. It's clean, all stone and steel melded together to create the quaint space.

You jump when Finn's hulking form enters your vision, his butcher's knife chopping down on a slab of meat, the sound reminds you of a guillotine.

He notices you freezed in the doorway, Finn huffs motioning for you to take an apron from the hanger with his incredibly large knife. You think you prefer the cutlass instead of the butcher's knife in his hands.

Tying it around your waist, you keep your distance away from the man.

“What do you need me to do?” You ask carefully so as to not anger the bull.

Finn moves to the side to reveal the boiling pot, the aroma makes your stomach gurgle. He points to a bundle of carrots on the counter before giving you a smaller knife. He nods once, going back to his chopping.

“Alright…” you find his lack of words peculiar, especially hearing the rest of the crew babble endlessly during the short time you've been on the ship.

You spare him side glances with every thwack of his knife to the chopping board. Working in comfortable silence, the sound from the bubbling pot calms your nerves, reminding you of the familiar sound in the white salmons’ kitchen.

The boat sways in the waves, making the hanging pots and pans swing to the motion. Finn taps his knife on the board twice, getting your attention. He gestures with his head towards the sliced carrots before glancing at the pot.

You understood completely, doing what he asked, he nodded once. A thank you maybe? Or he's just being nicer to you because of the whole ‘making you walk the plank thing’

Finn cleans himself up over the sink as you take a ladle to mix the stew, careful of the fire that licks the bottom of the metal pot.

A hand pops up at your line of sight, a bandage and a jar of wound cleaner placed in his large palm. He pushes the supplies to you, encouraging you to take it.

“Uh, what's this for?” you manage to take the things without it accidentally falling inside the crew's dinner. With how the ship rocks, you're proud of yourself for just being able to stand up.

Finn points to his chest, flicking his eyes to the supplies in your hands.

Looking down, you see a spot of red on the white cotton of your borrowed shirt. “Oh, thank you”

He huffs again, going back to cooking, letting you be.

Maybe they're not so bad?

—

Dinner is finally done. You can hardly keep your eyes open as you heave the huge pot over to the longest table you've ever seen. It's a makeshift table, a hodgepodge of crates and planks of wood put together to create the dinner table. Everyone starts to gather around the deck, the sun fully set, darkness rules the seas now as the candle light and oil lamps sway with the movement of the breeze.

Dining under the stars, how romantic.

They're a rambunctious bunch, pushing and pulling at each other to get the good plates first. You're already prepared for this of course, you've hidden a bowl in your apron so you could quickly scoop out dinner and vanish into a barren corner of the boat.

The same dark haired woman has other plans though, just before you could make your escape, she grabs you by the shoulders; orange and a flowery scent wafts in your nostrils.

“Where do you think you're going? Mm?” She whispers into your ear, her voice smooth, raising goosebumps on your arms. Freezing in her touch.

“Stop harassing the poor girl, Yuri” Gwen says while she takes her seat near the head of the table.

“Just having some fun, Gwen” she releases her hold on you, walking away with a wink thrown your way.

“Don't mind Yuri, she likes doing that to new people, her way of hazing I guess. I'm Miles by the way” He shakes your hand, smiling politely at you.

“She's not new to the crew, Miles. She's only here temporarily, remember?” Gwen pipes up, scooping her meal.

“Right, gotcha” he sits down next to Gwen with a huff. “Still, welcome a board the People's Revenge”

“I've gotten acquainted with your ship, just the poop deck and galley actually”

“Let me give you a tour then!” Pavitr suddenly appears next to you.

What is up with this crew instantaneously appearing out of nowhere?

“Hi, remember me?”

“Of course I do, thanks for the coat again”

“No problem, come on, let me introduce you to everyone!” Pavitr takes you by the sleeve, dragging you along the deck to introduce to literally everyone. “Oh you're gonna love them! Well, once you get to know them”

“Oh okay–just”

“This is ‘two fingers’” He points at a man halfway through putting a spoon in his mouth.

“I have a name, Pav! And I have all my bloody fingers!”

“Why are you called–” before you could ask, Pav led you away, smiling excitedly.

“This one here is ‘foul’!”

The crew around him laughs, “You forget to shower once and you get fuckin' called stinky!” Foul grabs a spoon to throw it at a laughing eye patch clad man. It conks him right on his forehead.

Pavitr moves on, actually introducing you to more people whose names get more ridiculous as you go around the table.

“And finally, this one is ‘ugly mug’” Pav shakes ugly mug’s shoulders for emphasis.

“Hey” the man with the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen and plump lips greets you.

“Ugly mug? He's not ugly at all!” You wildly gesture to his sharp face.

“You're too kind but I've learned to live with the ugliness” you don't know if he's joking or not with how serious he looks.

“Oh I almost forgot, this is Danny” Pav skims the most normal looking crew member. He whispers to you. “He's a bit weird”

Danny waves wildly, beaming at you. “Hi, I'm Danny!”

“Alright… thank you, Pavitr for the introduction” your stomach starts to cry again. “But I've gotta eat.”

“Oh, sit with us then!” He guides you to an empty chair next to Gwen. “Here, sit down. I'll get a bowl for you”

Awkwardly sitting down, you side eye Gwen. Miles looks like he's about to jump away from the tension.

“If you're worried about everyone planning to hurt you, don't. We have a code here and until you leave, you're kind of…one of us” she pierces the awkward silence between you.

You exhale a breath you haven't noticed you were holding. But you're still on guard, they are pirates after all.

“Here you go, I got you extra bread too” Pavitr saves you from the tension, bringing you a heaping bowl of hot stew with two loaves of bread. He sits down next to you, happily eating.

“God, I'm so hungry.” You grab the spoon with fervor, scooping up a chunk to quickly eat before it goes cold. It warms your insides, calming your hungry stomach. “Thank you– holy shit” it's the best tasting stew you've ever tasted.

“Good, right?” Gwen watches on with an amused smile. “Finn makes them from scratch, even the bread”

“I didn't even know that was possible on a ship.” You say with your mouth full. “Finn doesn't talk much huh?”

“Oh he talks. He just doesn't want to” Gwen shrugs, “that's his thing, don't ask him why”

“Wasn't planning to” you chuckle through your glass.

“Gwen,” Miles looks at you like he knows something you don't. “Am I crazy or she kind of reminds me of M–”

“Don’t” Gwen and Pavitr simultaneously say.

“You remind me who?” You flick your eyes between the trio.

“Don't–”

“MJ, you remind me of MJ.” Miles looks at you with sad eyes.

The entire table silences the moment Miles utters the name. Everyone looks at you and at eachother like how they did when you arrived just this morning. But this time there's sadness in their eyes instead of amusement.

“Who's MJ?” you ask nervously.

“Our former first mate” Foul flicks his eyes around, looking for something or someone. “Emphasis on the former”

“Oh” you could read the room but your bout of curiosity gets you first. “Who's the new first mate?”

“I am” Gwen says it without any pride laced in her words.

“Oh I figured that out. Where is she now?”

“Not here” A familiar voice replies behind you.

Looking over your shoulder, Hobie’s jaw is set, his hand on one of his pistols, the gold on the handle is a stark contrast to the rest of his silver ensemble.

You expect for the crew to stay silent once their captain arrives, but they hollar and cheer. Morphing Hobie's grimace into a smile. But it's still there, the anger and sadness, you can tell because you see it in the mirror everyday.

“Right, what's for dinner?” He sits down on the head of the table while his crew passes him a bowl and the pot. “Looks good, Finn. You've done it again, big man”

You hear Finn's signature grunt from somewhere along the table.

“Aye? She didn't mess anything up did she?” With just one grunt Hobie translated what Finn grunted.

How in the world?

Finn shrugs, making an ‘eh’ gesture with his hand. Hobie laughs, while you look at Finn with a ‘really?’ Look on your face. He rolls his eyes at you.

“I'm an…alright cook” you defend yourself but still remaining true.

“Sure you are, scuttlebutt. What other useful skills do you have, mhm?”

With a chance to prove yourself so they stop giving you tasks that break your back, you sell yourself.

“I recently learned how to sew and mend clothes.”

“You plannin’ on replacing Neddy as our sailmaker?”

Ned lifts his head up from his book. “What's that?”

“Nothin' Neddy. D’you know how to shoot?”

“Please say yes so you can join me with the cannons.” Yuri smirks further down the table.

“Uh, no I don't know how to handle gunpowder.” you refrain from looking at Yuri.

“Carpentry then? Fishing?”

“No and...no” you twiddle with your thumbs under the table.

Hobie grins mockingly at you. “Maybe we should just drop you overboard right now”

You grit your teeth. “I'm good with herbs and medicine. I'm guessing you don't have a ship doctor”

“Now you've piqued my interest.” Hobie casually leans on the table by his elbows, resting his chin on his hands. “Where did a fish girl like you learn about medicine, huh?”

“You only need to know that I can fix some of your crew's ailments. I'm not a doctor but I'm experienced”

“Closing wounds?” You nod. “Scurvy?”

“Theoretically, yes” you challenge him head on.

“The plague?”

“Survived it”

“The pox?”

“Most I can do is stop the spread and alleviate the pain, the survival depends on the person”

“Can we not talk about diseases while eating?!” Pav wildly gestures at his food.

“Carry on” Hobie side eyes you. Taking a huge bite of his loaf.

You throw him a fake smile.

“How are you liking the Revenge so far, Y/N?” Miles tries to make you forget the last interaction with him.

You wouldn't forget about it of course, it'll stay in the back of your mind, festering until your curiosity gets you and you ask who MJ actually is and why everyone quietened after she was mentioned. Maybe you'll do it one day, where your feet are firmly on the ground and you're not near any body of water.

Thinking of an answer that doesn't get you cut by a sword, you fake a smile. “Not what I expected”

“Did you expect blood and gold littered all over the place?” Hobie adds to the conversation. “Because that's in my quarters not here”

Gwen rolls her eyes at his joke while the others are either ignoring it or laughing along with Hobie.

One of the crew yells out on top of all the noise. “Aye, if you're lucky enough, girly, you'll see the inside of the cap’s quarters!”

Hobie shakes his head, throwing an entire plate towards the man with accuracy. Finn moves his head to the side casually before it hits him. The plate shatters then you hear the man scream obscenities.

“Don't listen to that animal” Hobie says without looking at you.

You want to get back at him for the lye comment so you decide to tease him, just to see his reaction, maybe he'll get flustered.

“And here I thought you were inviting me—”

BOOM!

The explosion shoves the entire ship harshly to the left, everyone slides with the movement including the table and chairs. Stew flies everywhere, loaves of bread soar overhead. Shards of sharp wood almost splinter your skin.

You land on the railing of the ship harshly. Opening your eyes through the pain, you see a crate heading your way.

“Fuck–!”

Strong arms grab you by the waist, saving you from getting crushed at the last minute. You hold on to their jacket with wild eyes.

“You alright?” Hobie's words are hushed and soft in your ear. You nod, trying to steady your racing heart. Looking up at him, his eyes roam your face for any injuries.

“I'm okay, what happened—?” noticing that you're still in his arms, you move away, correcting your balance when the ship hurls back to the right position. You try to reach for your necklace, until you remember that it's not there.

He nods once, his concerned face shifting into rage when he hears the sound of cannon balls behind him.

“Unfurl the fuckin' topsails!” He whirls around, directing his crew.

You hear fabric above you unfolding, the large blood red sails fills your vision. It dances in the wind like a macabre waltz.

You follow Hobie's line of sight, he glares at the large ship looming over the distance. The royal navy seal flaps on their bright blue sails.

“The Black Hellion” Hobie spits venom when he says the name. As he says it, a smaller ship appears behind the Hellion, racing to get to the Revenge.

“Fuck” he takes your hand, leading you under the stairs. Your legs drag as the crew rushes to get to their stations.

“Did you lead them here?!” Hobie grabs you by the shoulder, shoving you beneath the staircase, the wood behind you digs into your skin.

“What?! I swear I didn't— I didn't even know who you were until I got off the fucking net!” you stare down his angry eyes, grey swirling like a storm brewing behind it. “I swear on my life I am not navy!”

“You better not be,” He takes a rope from his belt then ties your hands together. Hobie lifts you by the binds effortlessly to a hook hanging above. You're dangling from the metal, the toes of your feet are barely on the ground.

“Hey—! What are you—?”

“We'll talk after this. Stay out of my way” Hobie leaves you behind.

You look at his retreating back in-between the spaces in the stairs. “Hobie! I'm not fucking navy!” you watch as he leads his entire crew with the anger of a lightning storm.

There's drum beats sounding above, bells ringing further across the water. You surmise the battle's only beginning.

Another cannon blasts, you cover your ears with your raised arms. The smell of gunpowder tickles your nostrils. The muffled yells of the pirates makes your head swirl and your heart pump rapidly. You try to jump as high as you can to get out of the hook, but it's too high up.

The boat lunges to the side again, the entire structure shakes. Your body swings and you hit your back against the hard wall. Groaning, your vision blurs for a second. Honing on the action, the navy ship rammed itself on the side of the revenge. You see uniform clad men jump ship, immediately fighting with the people you broke bread with.

There's a clashing of swords, pistols are fired wildly at each other. There's groans and screams of pain. You can't believe a few minutes ago the ship was full of laughter and warmth. Now blood is being spilled on the very floors you've cleaned. The laughter is replaced with agony filled yells and gurgled last words.

A sailor runs at full speed towards you, his sword shining in the moonlight. He yells a battlecry. The thought of them saving you is out of the window.

In an instant, a metal chain wraps around the uniformed man’s neck, he flies back, landing brutally, cracking the wood under him. You follow the end of the chain, you see Hobie dragging the sailor away, yanking and pulling at his neck until you hear a snap. The man lies still, you meet with Hobie's eyes through the stairs, you see a hurricane brewing in them.

He flings the chain back to him, the body thuds lifelessly on the wood. Hobie leaves without sparing you another glance. You've seen death numerous times during your journeys but not like this.

Not in front of you.

You stare at the body, all the noise and clashing of weapons falls deaf in your ears. Your hands shake, chest heaving and skin raising.

You have to get out of here.

Even if you have to chance it with the dinghy, even if you don't know how to row a boat or navigate the deep waters, you're gonna get out of here, out of the chaos and warm crimson that's seeping into the floorboards. You refuse to watch the chaos, but you can't avoid their shadows dancing in the moonlight.

You jump again, nothing. Again. You feel the rope lift up for a second. There's something metallic sliding near you, the knife stops near the foot of the stairs. It's too far away for you to even reach with your foot.

The rope burns your wrists, skin scraping against the rough hemp. It stings, like tear drops, your blood is slowly running down your arm.

You've got a better idea but it's a stretch. You still try it, moving your hands back and forth by swinging side to side, you slowly cut the rope with the sharp edge of the hook. Flakes of hemp fall on your head like snow.

There's a high pitched gasp in front of you, the sound makes you pause. Watching through the stairs, you see Gwen struggle under a large uniform clad man, his hands are around her throat. Squeezing painfully.

You hasten your movements, the rope cuts loose, the second your feet hit the ground, you run.

Grabbing the fallen knife from the ground with hot adrenaline rushing in your veins, you plunge it on the man's thigh swiftly. He screams in agony. You help Gwen up, she coughs loudly, clutching at her bruising neck.

“You fucking bitch!” The man grits his teeth, circling his hand around the handle of the knife still in his skin, he grins a bloodied smile.

You hear Gwen snicker in your arms.

He grabs the knife out of his thigh with a sickening squelch. Blood spurts out of him like a fountain, spraying you with warm ichor. You freeze. Gwen kicks the panicking man in the middle of his chest, he falls like a sack of potatoes on the floor, screaming and trying desperately to stop his bleeding.

You look around the chaos, trying not to listen to the man's pained screams. There's clouds of gunpowder hanging in the air, hiding all the bodies lying on the deck, away from your eyes.

“Gwen.” Hobie's raspy voice echoes out in the silence and atop of the leftover screams of the defeated. He throws her a pistol wordlessly.

Without hesitation, Gwen puts an end to the screaming.

There's complete silence now, the moon still hangs overhead, you wonder if the moon saw everything.

It looks like the pirates won as the navy ship is now commandeered by Hobie's crew. James yells from the mast, flipping the bird towards the retreating Black Hellion.

Shards of broken wood lay next to bodies, both pirates and navy. But the navy looks like it's the one that has suffered more loss. Pistols and muskets are littered around the once pristine deck. The smell of death and burned gunpowder permeates the air.

There's fresh crimson flowing beneath you, drenching the soles of your weathered boots. You feel the warmth spreading under your feet.

A hand claps your shoulder, “you saved me, thank you” Gwen smiles genuinely at you.

A yelp takes both of your attention, a man in a lieutenant’s uniform kneels in front of Hobie, his back being pushed down by Finn's boot.

Hobie crouches down, taking the sailor’s chin in his hand, his nails digging into the man's skin.

“Lieutenant George, your Captain left you to die.” He chuckles without humour. “So much for being called the king's flame, huh?.” Hobie sighs.

The lieutenant spits but Hobie dodges it. “I will use your own limbs to dig your grave! You damn pirate!”

“That doesn't sound practical” He stands up, under Hobie's bloodstained face you see the lines in-between his brows, tired, you know it well. “Take him below, Finn.”

“As for you,” Hobie's bloodshot eyes address you, he smiles, the twinkle in his eyes are back. “Red looks good on you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded, realization hits you. With your sleeves, you wipe your face, smearing the ichor all over your skin more.

“Lock her in one of the cabins.” Hobie says to the men behind you. They take you by the arms.

“Wait—! Why? I told you I'm not one of them!”

“Hobie, come on, she saved my life!” Gwen advocates for you.

“I know, I saw, we're just gonna ask her questions, yeah?” Hobie stands in front of you, in all his blood soaked form. “She has nothin' to worry about unless she's hidin’ somethin’”

You could only glare at him as you're being dragged away, too exhausted from everything.

The rest of the crew watch on. Maybe the stories are right. But for your sake, you hope it's not.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Special thanks to my bestie @thesevenofstaves for helping me out with the titles/names 🫶

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sweetwolfcupcake · 5 months

Text

The Taste of Deceit(Hyungline Part Two-Finale)

Masterlist

The Taste of Deceit Masterlist

Hyungline- Part 1, Part 2: Hoseok, Namjoon

Warnings: Violence, Dark Characters with Darker Intentions. Disturbing imagery, allusions, blood, and slight gore. And the most important- DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT(Dub-con, Non-con).

This took me so long...It has been a long year.

Word Count: 13k-ish

Happy New Year Everyone.

Kindly excuse typos and errors. No advanced editing done.

(GIF credits to the owner)

"Where are the rest of them?"

The man leading the team asked as he inspected the bloodied bodies of his colleagues, keeping an eye on the cold corpses, while the rest of the team spread out in the house, in search of Officer (L/N)(Y/N).

They were not very hopeful regarding her survival.

The backup force in the adjacent house, who were allotted to keep a watchful eye, were all found on the floor--cold and mangled. It was a direct dent in the department. A declaration of war.

His eyes scanned through the bed, trying to figure out any oddity in the darkness. Switching on the lights would alert the lurking enemies. And he could not afford to lose more of his team members. Tentatively, his gloved hands ran through the bloodied sheet, the room stunk of it.

Finally!

He found something, a square–no, rectangular device. Fishing it out from below the covers, he inspected the device. It seemed akin to a voice recorder. Marred with blood, the man had every reason to consider if (Y/N) deliberately left it there for them to find her, or maybe a clue...they were too late.

Wiping away the blood, he switched it on.

There were a few muffled sounds and some glitches initially before he could clearly hear–

There was a continuous huffing before he heard a gasp and a moan.

"Who do you belong to? Huh–?"

"You-Oh my–ah!"

"Why–I thought y-you fucking worked for the authorities."

"I—Jin-hah! That's notyou, Please!"

It was somewhere between a beg, a cry and a moan. The captain stood still, blood beginning to boil. But he continued to listen.

Officer (L/N)'s gasps and the sound of skin slapping were clear to him as much as what was transpiring in the recording.

"Please Jin—just surr–surrender, this was—"

Smack!

"Tch! Shut it already—You– and I both know that they are never seeing us again!"

"Oh–my—"

"Right Baby, just let g–go–shit! Too much of this fuc-fuking game–yeah? It'sokay..."

The sounds that followed felt like a slap on his face. No, it was a slap on the whole fucking department's face.

"I forgive you, love."

That was the final straw, the officer rose his hands to smash the bloody thing on the ground. Kim Seokjin messed with the wrong person, he fucking spit on the Department. He was going to hunt—

He paused midway.

Kim Seokjin left the tape deliberately. It was an open challenge to the department, he even did not bother to clean up after the murdering two of the officers himself, not the rest too. The recording, the murder scene, the whole house— all these were powerful pieces of evidence.

So why would he just...Leave them behind?

That sly rat obviously did not want to get caught.

But the evidence...

Unless...

"Officers! Officers wherever you are get out of the building I said evacuate the buildings. Over."

He held the tape close as he rushed out of the room and into the hallway."

"Sir, what is wrong?" One of the officers asked through the device.

"It's a trap! I REPEAT IT'S A TRAP! EVACUATE THE—-"

BOOM!

The deafening boom was swift, followed by another within a millisecond, but the amber and the sparks were quicker.

And within a moment, the two buildings burst into flames. Fire and fireproof helmets flying out, some parts of burning cloths, burnt uniforms and perhaps some skin attached to them.

—---

Jin smiled at her sleeping form through the mirror before he felt his burner phone vibrating.

"Sir, it's done." A voice from the other side spoke as soon as he picked up the call.

"Good, now get out of there." Jin instructed before hanging up the call.

He could finally lean back. His eyes remained on the road ahead, along with a smile that he did not wish to wipe anytime soon.

—--------

Waking up was a slow process. But (Y/N) had not felt more blissful before. She felt like she was surrounded by soft clouds. She felt pampered, and it was not a feeling foreign to her but she was relaxed and—-

She woke up with a start, shaking the remaining sleep off her, though her mind was still a bit muddled. Flashes of the night before occupied her mind as she blinked to clear up her vision. He...What had she done?

Did she give in?

She just...She just laid there, under him, taking whatever he gave her

She put her whole department to shame and yet—

The gentle fingers brushing through her hair, detangling the tresses were all too familiar to even guess– she knew it was Jin. Laying behind her.

"How did you sleep?" It was the morning voice that she was used to, but this time, she was alert for a whole new reason.

Did he wish to play with her a bit before slaughtering her?

There was one thing that Kim Seokjin would never forgive, she had learnt in her two years with him– betrayal.

Expecting forgiveness from him after stabbing him in the back was like trying to dig up a well in a desert.

"You need to relax, Love. As I said yesterday, I forgive you."

She frowned but did not dare to turn.

"I forgive you..."

Was that what she heard before she fell into a tired, hopeless, dreamless slumber?

Even if she were to die, she knew that she was no coward. And she would not die like one. So (Y/N) turned around, facing the man who shaped her nightmares and dreams.

Turning around, she realised she was naked, while he was in his usual night pyjamas. And while she had been naked with him several times before, this made her feel vulnerable, exposed even.

"You did not give away the other pen drive, Jagi. Of course, I forgive you. How can I not?"

He looked soft, hair ruffled, eyes slightly swollen, and overall deceptively harmless.

"You killed them."

As long as she could remember, there were two bodies. Two of her seniors lay bloodied and dead on the bed.

"Yes, Jagi, I killed them all." Jin's smile was sweet, the one she had grown used to.

And so was it unhinged.

"You can't hide forever, you know?"

"We, Love. It's us against them. You proved your loyalty to me last night. The remaining doubts shall be dealt with effectively." He rose slightly with the support of his elbow and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. "I will be back, yeah?"

He left after that. Left her with her thoughts as she spiralled further and further down. All the things that had gone wrong and that she had done wrong. Two of the senior-most officers were dead. The department would hunt her down, hunt them down.

She had no clue how long it had been until Jin returned with a tray that she assumed contained breakfast.

"I had the maids prepare a light breakfast, did not want you to get your stomach upset again."

She frowned. Why did she not remember any of that?

"I–I threw up last night?"

"Yes, you did, even had a fever. Perhaps things were too much for you. Had me worried there for a while. Now, rise up, you must eat something."

"Why are you doing this?" She refused to believe that she was 'forgiven', she was not even apologising in the first place. "If this is your way of prolonging—"

"I could have killed you the day I found out who you were."

She stilled at his words. They were obvious but that did not stop the chill that descended into her spine. It was a strange cocktail of sadness and affirmation.

"But I didn't..."

I couldn't

The words lingered with uncertainty in the air.

"I wanted to see how far this little game goes. And then I saw it..." He tilted his head as his lips curved into a condescending smirk "...How naïve you were. It's pathetic actually. Thinking what you do is the 'right thing'."

"You run an underworld business of drugs and weapons Jin. No matter what you do, how you are, you cannot separate that from yourself...You have blood on your hands Jin and the only way to wash it—"

He interrupted her with a loud scoff that broke into a cackle.

"Honey, you don't wash it all off, it took my blood sweat and money to build this empire. And then I watch some puppet idealists coming to topple it...It's amusing."

He gently laid the breakfast tray on the foldable table placed over her lap.

"It's a game (Y/N). A big game where people like you are only disposable pawns...Why do you think the department is bothered about me now? Why not years back? I was easier to crush then."

When she only frowned, he continued.

"Because they are not hunting for sweeping the city, or the nation clean. They are hunting for those who cannot be loyal to them. Once you are ready to spend billions on election campaigns, domestic and international deals, give money to their pretty puppets and invest in their projects– be their loyal dogs, do the dirty work for them...You are free to do whatever the fuck you want."

He gently cupped her cheeks, leaning in to level with her gaze. "One Government topples, so does their favours upon their underworld allies, the next one would only want to uproot them all. It's not about just tice, or charity, or protecting the city. It never was. It has and always been about power...Once they find out that you have not handed over the other pen drive, you are going to end up with a 'criminal' bullet lodged into your head."

"What about the bullets in those officers' bodies?"

Jin only smiled "If my soul were made of what has shaped yours, Jagi...I would not have been where I am."

He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Get something into your system. I will prepare a bath for you."

Standing up, he towered over her.

"For now, you are not allowed to step out of the room without my explicit permission. Not until my trust in you is restored completely. You still went to meet them, and I cannot risk another slip-up."

"So I am your prisoner."

"Of course not, Jagi. I have a special place for my 'prisoners'. You are the woman I love and refuse to lose. You are the one for me. But fortunately, love cannot blind me to the realities of your position. It is just a bump in the road, we will pass through this."

She could not even begin to decipher what odd amalgamation of emotions she was feeling at the moment. It was all too much. But she knew one thing...She was trapped. A trap she had willingly walked into.

"I will let you have the bath to yourself. Finish up, okay?"

With that, Jin walked into the bathroom. The little muffled sounds here and there let her know that he was doing what he said he would do. Exactly that.

—--

The water felt perfect against her skin, washing away the aches and clammy sensation. But nothing could wash away him. He was imprinted on her mind, and even if he had thoughtfully left her alone in the bathroom, (Y/N) felt him everywhere, in everything. It was like the whole place, not just the bathroom or the room, but each brick was breathing Kim Seokjin.

It was an odd situation. After everything she had seen and experienced, she knew that there was something going on in Jin's mind– he was concocting a plan and if he was not, then he had already emerged as victorious.

She would not be surprised though. He had himself revealed that he had known her true occupation for a while now. It was all a bait. Her two seniors were dead, and perhaps even her colleagues who were in the other house and—

The realisation hit her like a truck. Before she knew it, she was scrambling out of the tub, splashing water everywhere, slipping here and there. But she did make it back to the room, albeit with only a bath robe on, she rushed out of the bathroom, only to begin searching for a TV remote.

She finally found it on the nightstand.

"There are only speculations we can make as no confirmation has been provided by the Police Department or the intelligence. The intensity of the blast was moderate but enough to kill each and every officer present in the two buildings...."

The words of the reporter sank later than the pictures being displayed on the screen. There were all twenty of them.

Five of whom she had personally worked with on her previous missions. Out of the five, two were the ones she recognised as friends, close friends.

The rest of the six were acquaintances and the others, she could barely remember their names.

But all of them were her colleagues.

Her colleagues with families to look after, one of them was expecting his first child in the world, and another was the only hope for her aged and ailing parents.

And now, they all were reduced to nothing but burnt flesh and ashes.

"Jagi, I thought you were in for a nice, relaxing bath, why are you crying?"

She had not taken notice of his presence first, it was only after he gently wiped her tears did she realise her predicament.

It was like she had blood in her hands.

"Why?"

When she looked at him with the question, his unreadable eyes expressed the unexpressed. There was no other thought in her mind.

"They were innocent—"

Jin cackled– one that sounded everything that she had heard before when it concerned an expression of glee. But felt like nothing she had felt before. One that could inspire unadulterated fear. It was sinister– mockingly sinister at its best.

She had fallen in love with a cruel, cold and evil man.

"You have known me for years now, have you not...(Y/N). Have I ever been forgiving to obstacles? They were the wall between us, our love."

And yet he claimed to love her.

"It was a small warning, Jagi. You know that I could do worse."

He was right. She knew him, after all.

"Now, we would not have to worry about some petty people in uniform trying to come after us. Don't think too much about this and tire yourself out."

He took the remote from her grasp with ease and switch the television off before gently leading her back to the bathroom.

(Y/N) was in a daze, letting him take her out of the bathrobe with ease before he put her back in the bathtub after moderating the temperature again. But when he joined her, the feeling of his warm skin rubbing against hers broke her daze, but the faces of her colleagues never vanished from her mind.

She heard him sigh as he pulled her over his lap, relaxing in the perfectly warm water, basking in the soothing fragrance of lavender and pines. It felt like once she closed her eyes, she would be somewhere else, somewhere beautiful.

But she did not dare to close them.

(Y/N) knew that the moment she closed her eyes, the faces of her friends and colleagues would flash in front of her.

She felt his body against hers, roaming hands, fingers drawing circles over her shoulder to comfort her. But none of them worked.

"I know that there is a lot of questions in your mind, so may dilemmas. But you will see Jagi. You will see how much far we have come. You chose me. You made the right choice."

His voice was that of a siren– hypnotic, melodious, but one that would lead its follower to their ultimate demise.

That was Kim Seokjin.

He told her once that she was the one for him, and they would grow old together.

She knew that he would have it no other way.

He was not afraid to spark a bloody battle for that. But there was no line to it. He did not care who or what the price was-- he would have what he wanted, where he wanted.

She realised when he turned her head to land a soft but promising kiss on her lips.

He wanted a battle?

His lips were soft but firm, his hand on the side of her neck left no room for backing away.

She would give him war.

She kissed him back, cautious, but not empty of thoughts.

***

The days were humid, and the nights invited light to moderate rainfall. Life in the relatively remote town was peaceful, in a nutshell.

To live in innocuous obscurity, to work for nothing but to run her and her family was what (Y/N) needed after everything she and her sister had been through—her sister Chae, her only surviving family. The same family she had smashed someone’s heart for and perhaps ruined his life forever.

She might as well be a monster in his eyes. But with her experience through all this, she had learned that not all monsters were evil. And that just made everything much more complicated.

She never knew Min Yoongi.

Of course, she had heard of him, maybe even seen his pictures a handful of times, but never paid much attention.

Not until Chae, her sweet little sister, and her only family, was diagnosed with an illness that was slowly swallowing her up. And (Y/N)’s regular office job could not pay the bills for too long. Their savings were running out, and the treatment and medicines were weighing heavy.

She was desperate.

Truly desperate

And truly desperate people never weigh morals, risks, or possibilities.

They take any chance given to them.

So did she, when a decorated officer offered her a chance to save her sister and find a better life for both of them.

She took the chance; it only took her a day to think through everything. They were paying for her sister’s treatment and the medical bills; they were to overlook Chae and her security, and the net money to be transferred into her bank account after the work was done was good enough.

That one offer had everything she desperately needed. Not desired. Needed.

She was never worried about herself– walking under the shadow of a man like Min Yoongi, she had to have courage. And she was courageous because she was desperate. Whatever she had heard of the man was foul deeds and evil temperament; she had never let that diminish her courage.

To the officers, Min Yoongi was a monster. A clever monster who needed to be pulled out of the sea.

It was for the betterment of society– she was not doing anything morally wrong if perceived through those lenses.

But that was the catch.

People, morality and justice were not read through a single lens, they needed prisms to look at, to analyse.

She had learned that with her time spent with Min Yoongi. Her experience defied every other fact she had learned from her temporary employers. He was no monster. But as she dug deeper into his life and his personality, she discovered that the officers were no liars either.

Min Yoongi was a monster after all. But he was not evil. Not every monster was evil, not every evil looked like a monster.

Min Yoongi was an intimidating man. True to the officers’ words, he was a dangerous man too. Before she knew it, she was already praying that the assumptions about him would be proven false and that she would never have to hear his deeds from his lips.

The same lips that had kissed her so softly, the eyes that looked at her with such a distinct tenderness, closed when her fingers traced his scar. Her touch was soft, but his hold on her would be delicate. It always had been.

Until the doomed night.

She was frozen with shock when she looked into his eyes– the same eyes that once held tenderness seemed to belong to a true predator. For the first time, she truly felt the danger that she was in.

She was in a lion’s den. Unarmed. Unprepared. But desperate.

She saw the shadow fall over his face, she truly saw why even a decorated officer would not like to mess with Min Yoongi without an intricate strategy and heavy backup.

And yet, she had mouthed ‘Run’ to him.

As if she wanted him to get away. To be saved.

Perhaps he did need a second chance— to be saved from the chilling darkness she had seen merging with him.

But she was no saint, and definitely not his saviour.

She was his doom.

It was an opportunity too good, too bright a chance. And she took it.

Yes, she had grown to care for him, even sympathise with him, more than she would like to admit. But she loved her sister. And she did whatever she needed to do to save her only family.

She had religiously avoided watching the news for months. Three months since she had settled into town with her little sister. She did not want to burden herself anymore.

I did what I needed to. We needed to survive.

She told herself again as she prepared warm milk for Chae along with her medicine. It had become kind of a ritual ever since that night.

“Chae, get off the tablet now. Time for bed.” She called out from the kitchen before making her way to their room from the kitchen with the tray with her.

“Just a few more minutes!”

(Y/N) could not help but feel uplifted by the sound of her sister’s chirpy voice, it had withered so pitifully once. But now, as she was recovering, their trips to the hospital had reduced from every three days to twice a month.

“No. Screentime’s over. Give that to me.”

Despite her sister’s whining, she took the gadget from her tiny hands and replaced it with the cup of milk.

“Say ‘Aaa’”

Chae opened her mouth wide as (Y/N) put a circular tablet into it before helping her gulp it down.

She let out a soft sigh after she finished the cup– soft pink in shade with the partially protruding face of a smiling panda.

“Let’s get you to bed. Why don’t you show me how you make your bed before going to sleep?”

“Yes!” Chase jumped up, ready to show (Y/N) her newfound field of expertise.

“Look, you first, take off the pillows, clear off your bed…” She spoke as if there were cameras around, like the lifestyle shows and YouTube videos on ‘How to Do Household Chores Right’.

She had been watching such stuff lately. And while (Y/N) felt that her Chae might be a little too young to learn how to make pancakes, if her sister enjoyed the sense of independence and thrived in it, (Y/N) did not mind.

She watched her little sister work with a fond smile until she was done and was beaming with a smile that (Y/N) held the most precious to herself.

“And look, it's all done!”

(Y/N) clapped in appreciation and played along, before tucking her into bed and switching off the lights, keeping the nightlights that made the ‘Glow-in-the-dark’ wall stickers illuminate better before placing a goodnight kiss on the top of her and leaving the room.

—---

Laying on the bed after a long day felt good. She doubted that anything could even compare to the comfort and sense of safety a familiar, comfortable bed would provide after a long day of toil and trials.

Sighing, she let herself sink into a relaxed state of mind, welcoming the sleep that was rapidly filling her eyes– rapid but soft and—

Buzz! Buzz!

The vibration from her phone jerked her out of the sweet lull with a low gasp. Her senses stood alert as she blinked away the rest of the sleep. In the dark room, her phone’s screen illuminated in a way that there was no other way but to look at it. As if, it had a sense of urgency to it. as if it demanded for her to look into the text.

She knew, of course, that it was all but her imagination– the phone would not buzz a different way for different situations, and neither would it illuminate any brighter to alert her.

With a tired sigh and heavy eyes, she unlocked her phone and opened the message from an unknown number.

Indeed, it was a very important message.

—------

It was a nice place– at least nice in the sense that it served good food and had a warm and cosy atmosphere– something one would expect from a cafe in a fairly isolated town.

Not many people visited the town, neither tourists knew about it. A perfect hiding corner in the country indeed. They had considered sending her out of the country, and they had assured her that once things settled down, they would.

But here was the thing– she depended on one of the officers to inform her if the ‘things had settled down’. (Y/N) had consciously avoided any news or updates regarding Min Yoongi.

She was indeed afraid of coming across something upsetting. She already was miserable with guilt.

Sure, she never loved Min Yoongi, but she had grown to care for him, to understand him and truly see him for what he was– a love-starved, broken soul.

“So…”

She began, eyeing the door and the road outside for any sign of a vehicle with red and blue sirens.

“Is there something to be worried about?”

In her time with Min Yoongi, she had mastered the art of poise, to some extent. However, she never had the chance to master her fear– she never felt the need to. It was an odd sense of safety in his company, she knew that nothing could touch her when she was with him.

But he was an exception.

The man in front of him was an officer in disguise. She remembered him for he had been closely associated with Mission Raven.

“I have not been keeping track of any news regarding—”

“There’s nothing on the news Ms (L/N). Nothing at all. That night, the police station blew off.”

She stilled, slowly processing his words.

“There was no record of his arrest because he was to be shifted to a bigger, more secure station overnight but…”

“So…So everyone there…”

The officer sighed and nodded.

“Min Yoongi was never found. What a coincidence.” He shook his head with a bitter chuckle “When I joined the police force, I thought that I was going to be a hero– help the people in need, bring justice…That night, when my eyes met Min Yoongi’s, I felt my resolve faltering for the second time in my life.”

He shook his head with a sardonic tilt of his lips.

“The first time was while I shot a criminal dead.” He added before taking a sip of the coffee that no longer had steam rising from its surface. “Overall, I am glad that I and two of my teammates had gone out for a cigarette break…So we survived.”

He gulped and eyed his surroundings with a subtle nervousness that made her heart thrum with warnings.

“Though I have been transferred to some other city, I thought that I must warn you. I waited, did not want him to track you down. Miss (L/N), I suggest that you leave with your sister tonight, and leave the country as soon as you can. Min Yoongi’s men killed every person in the building. We hid, but we saw him walk out, saw them walk out…Oh–look, please don’t panic.”

It was when his flow broke did she realised that her cheeks were damp with tears.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” The young officer frowned in concern.

“I…I need to lea-ve.”She cracked up, as her voice crumbled.

With quivering legs and hands, she rose from her chair, uncaring of the loud scraping.

“I can drop you.” He offered.

“No…No, you…you should leave. We are no longer safe. Are we?”

The officer pursed his lips before shaking his head.

Picking up his card from the desk, along with her handbag, she rushed out of the place, gasping for breaths. She thought she might feel better with some fresh air in her lungs. But she had no time to think. She simply rushed to her car and drove away.

(Y/N) felt like she was in a daze.

It felt like a bad dream. An ominous one.

But it was no omen, it was no dream.

It was real.

During her two years with Min Yoongi, she came to understand him to some extent. Nothing slipped past his mind, ever.

A favour or a betrayal, he paid his debts. With interest.

And she had gifted him, on that night, one of the worst betrayals a man could endure. She had seen love in his eyes before that doomed night.

But that night, he had the misfortune to witness the flicker of madness– simmering, still tame, in control. There was an odd gleam in his eyes– one that reminded her why Min Yoongi was so feared after all.

Hastily parking her car, she rushed out of the vehicle and into her house. The setting sun cast an amber glow into the sky that was gradually descending into deep blue and lavender. It might rain heavily– not ideal for travelling, but she had no other option.

They had no other—

As soon as she entered the apartment, her thoughts turned silent.

Everything felt tense.

For once, her heart skipped a beat. But she was reassured by reminding herself that Chae would be usually taking a nap by this time.

For once, she thought that she finally had the peace she had always craved. But now as she moved towards Chae’s room to wake her up, she realised how wrong she had been.

With a plan still under construction in her spiralling mind, she opened the door to Chae’s room. The blinds were pulled down, plunging the room into an unusual darkness.

“Chae?” She called out tentatively before switching on the night light.

She noticed her sister’s face first, eyes closed and limbs hanging– and then the body–no, the man who had her in his arms.

Her mind, her thoughts, and her senses plunged into a heavy silence. A silence so profound that (Y/N) could hear a low but unending beep in her ears.

She could see the outline of a back, along with the hair just teasing his shoulders. She would recognise the profile anywhere, at any time. But when the man finally turned, she could not help but take a step back, gluing herself to the wall, under the shadows as her breathing hitched.

There was nothing significantly different, at least whatever view the limited light provided her with showed that. But somehow, his form seemed to swallow every corner of the room. The scar that ran through his eyes till his upper cheek was almost faded out by the shades of blue the nightlight provided.

But she could see his smirk– a crooked, twisted smirk that made her whimper. A sudden gleam had her eyes dropping to his hand that held her sister with a silver gun flat on her back, his forefinger already on the trigger.

“You never told me about your sister…(Y/N).” He drawled, and she thought his truest, rawest nature stood before her.

A predator that loved to chase but also took its time.

“No…No!” Her voice came out as strangled as her brittle knees gave out

“Shhh, you’ll wake her up. I read out a story to her before tucking her in.”

His voice was calm, hushed and steady– a sinister melody attached to it, following his movements as he looked above her. She had not even noticed the two men standing behind her. It was only after they walked past her and took her sleeping sister in their arms that the wheels began to turn in her head.

“W-where are you taking her? No!” With skidding legs and blurred vision, she rushed to them, trying to pry her sister away from them, only to be pulled back by the man whose presence overpowered everyone and everything in the house.

“Yoongi, please! She’s innocent, punish me but—”

Her words were caught in her throat when his gaze held hers. She was looking into the eyes of a creature of the night. The blue light only enhanced the sinister shade his face carried. He was perhaps paler, broader yet his face seemed sharper. No trace of softness.

“You know how many times I dreamt of that night over and over again?” He pushed her closer, so close that she could feel his quivering breath– as if he was barely restraining himself.

“My sister needed—”

“They were simply fishing for the right victim and you just took the bait. What do you think, they would come to ‘save’ you? They don’t fucking care!” He spat.

Under the nightlight, he looked rogue, savage, unfearing.

“You are a criminal Yoongi.” She had no idea where she had found the strength to speak those words, but she did.

He smiled coldly “Of course I am, Love. The one they fear and now won’t dare challenge. You see, there is nothing between us now.”

Her wall of protection had disappeared. (Y/N) knew that she could never depend on them for long, but everything toppling overnight? She had not seen this coming.

“You betrayed me, but also saved me.” He concluded and she felt his hold tightening on her arms like a python.

“No, Yoongi…I didn’t save you. I am not your saviour Yoongi.”

“Oh, Love…I cannot be saved anyway, I don’t want to be…All that is left for you is to accept me as I am. No ifs and buts.”

But how? She never wanted this…She never loved him!

“Y-Yoongi…I don’t–I don’t love you…”,

The silence made her stomach flip. But her proximity to him made her fear for her life.

“They really had filled your mind with filth…” He drawled before she felt the iron grip of his fingers on her jaws. It was not instantly painful, but with each passing moment, the ache rose.

“Look at me, look into my eyes and tell me.”

The simmering ambre flared into an all-engulfing fire in his eyes. Some strands of his hair fell forward, exposing the deranged lover that hid behind the poised man.

She peered into the rage and chaos simmering in his feline eyes- dark but raging with emotions, yet hollowed with loneliness.

“I cared Yoongi, I always did. That is why I wanted you to survive. I wanted you to run, despite knowing who you were, I wanted you to run. But I could never love you.”

It was an odd amalgamation– she feared him, yet pitied him. He, to her, resembled a lost predator. Surviving, hunting, doing what he was born to do…but lost, alone.

“Please Yoongi…Let Chae go…She’s a child. Let us go.” She begged again, her hopes flaring when his hold on her loosened, hands falling to his side as he took a step back.

He only chuckled and looked away.

“I guess our past actions do have consequences…”

In the silence, his lowly voice sounded ominous

“And I must reap them…” He paused before turning back to her “But so would you.”.

She watched the simmering ambre erupting into an all-consuming volcano before he tapped on the earpiece attached to his left ear.

“Is the child with you? Okay, take out your gun and shoot her when I command.”

“NO! NO! Yoongi, please! No”

She was already on her knees, she did not care as long as her only family was safe. His cold eyes peered down at her with a chilling poise before he bent down a bit and cupped her cheek, breaking the neverending stream of tears.

“Wipe off the tears and come with me. If anyone suspects something, you sweet little sister will pay.”

(Y/N) sat frozen, not even registering the thrumming on her knees.

Maybe she was wrong–

Min Yoongi was a monster after all.

And monsters were unforgiving creatures.

—------

Min Yoongi knew that he was not a saint.

He was not a kind man.

But he was also not evil. Not to the people he loved, truly loved and cared for. And definitely not to the love of his life.

He had no shame in admitting– he was a monster- the worst of them all. A walking, talking, repulsive nightmare.

But he loved her. He had forgiven her the very night he was ‘arrested’.

How could he not, when she looked at him with more kindness than he had ever known in this world?

But when she outrightly refused to have ever loved him, the illusion began to crack.

“They were right about you…I never believed them until now but now I do. You truly are an evil monster.”

She had whispered those words to him as soon as they were in his estate. Even with tears in them, her eyes were cold and raging.

“I could never love a monster like you!” She finally spat out when he refused to let her see her sister.

And he snapped. Something deep, dark, territorial and unhinged gnawed its way out.

But he only smirked. Even though he could feel the dull ache behind his eyes, a strange pit in his stomach, he smirked and let it grow into a chuckle.

He must have had his true face out as she took a step back with fear blooming in her teary eyes– he was a deranged, diabolic bastard. With each step he took to close the distance between them, she took several away, until the back of her knees bumped with the bed.

Pulling her flush against himself, he leaned near her ear.

“The officers who aided you are already six feet under the ground– half burnt, half crushed, but dead anyway. All you can do is believe in every word they told you about me…I am indeed a monster, honey. He worst one you will ever know. And you will have to live with this monster. No government, no decorated officer would dare to save you.”

He felt her stiffen and shiver like frightened prey. Indeed, she had fallen prey to his love. He made peace with their reality. She would too.

Humans were adaptive creatures after all.

—--------

The hanging lights on the ceiling were pretty– the crystals shining under the moonlight, but they seemed to swing slightly.

It was only an illusion, of course. It was she, who moved, and the bed while the man above her remained still, revelling at the sight of her rocking hips, spread legs and parted mouth with the dazed bliss in her eyes.

She could only watch the chandelier instead of looking into his eyes with the victorious gleam in them and the sadistic twinkle on watching her fall apart.

“Look into my eyes, Jagi.”

And she did before hot white pleasure surged through her.

“There there, aren’t you the most beautiful of all brides out there?”

“Why can’t I meet my own sister?” (Y/N) was only a thread away from screaming her lungs out all the awful things she could think of at the moment.

Yoongi simply sat, nursing his scotch on rocks, idly watching the part of the vast garden visible from his home office. The place that only a few had access to, the place she had barged in, his guards chasing after her, pleading for her to stop lest they would bear Mr Min’s wrath.

But she could not have it in herself to care. She had not seen or even heard of her Chae for two days in the gigantic estate.

When Yoongi finally looked at her, his stoic stare made something unpleasant steer within her. His eyes assessed her with a flick before it turned steely.

“Why are you in your bed clothes?” It was akin to a sneer. Or maybe it was.

The fact was, she did not give a fuck.

“What have you done to my sis–”

“Have you walked all the way here in this?”

She was wearing a thin camisole under a nightgown reaching beyond her knee. It was of satin material that was tightly knotted but had a plunging neckline she had never cared about.

She did not understand why this bothered him so much. She knew that he was twisted but this was madness.

“I want to see Chae! I have not even heard of her since I–you brought us here.”

Only she knew the anxiety clawing her from within

“She needs to take her medicines regularly Yoongi. She’s just eight, she is a child, an innocent child who needs me.”

Even when she would ask the guards, servants, or maids, they would not respond to her question– that was the only question they refrained from speaking about her sister, or even taking her name.

If Yoongi had the intention to break her down in a slow, painful way, he was on the right track.

He rose from the chair and walked to her “I assure you that she is safe and sound– she will take all her medicines on time, they will take good care of her.”

“Th-they?”

She did not even notice his other hand reaching for her until he wiped the single tear that had slipped from her eyes.

“The school staff. I have sent Chae to Rosenberg.”

“Indeed, you are.”

She felt his fingers slipping away before hearing the embarrassing squelching. Her eyes had closed without her notice, ready to fall into a blissful slumber. It was the second time he had pushed her over the edge of white pleasure.

But she was wrong to think that he was anywhere near done.

Feeling the tight knot snap, she withered under him, eyes still closed, mind still hazy.

Before the swing of the pleasurable high could slow down, she vaguely felt him putting her boneless legs over his shoulder before the ticking sensation between her thighs alerted her.

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped open, just in time when she felt something wet glide over her opening. The protest bubbling up to her tongue fizzled out like a burning matchstick against a storm and the only thing left for her was to moan instead– no matter how much she wished to resist it, she could not help the signs of pleasure tearing out of her mouth.

At first, she felt the odd but pleasurable sensation, almost flinching and jumping away. But under him, with his hands tight on her thighs, almost spilling the flesh between his fingers, it was difficult to even move. All she could do was to let her hands grip his hair. He did not seem to mind much.

His tongue focused on flicking her clit for a while, making her jolt each time with quivering gasps and moistening womanhood. This man surely knew how to overwhelm her own emotions.

“Ro-Rosember?”

“Rosenberg– Institut auf dem Rosenberg. It tops the list for a refined and elite schools, your sister will flourish there.”

He held an air of nonchalance around him as he refilled his glass. Yet Yoongi’s eyes never left her form.

(Y/N) licked her lips. Was it possible to get randomly admitted to any prestigious school so soon in the country?

“So, she will be going to a new school? I can meet her then, right?”

“I think you don’t understand Jagi. It is an elite boarding school, the best of the best. It’s in Switzerland. I sent her there yesterday.”

“You…You sent my Chae to…Switzerland?”

She had to repeat the words herself in order to fully grasp the situation. Yoongi sent her baby sister, who needed constant supervision and regular check-ups to another country-- to a boarding school she had never heard of.

“I have sent them the details and the list of precautions and medications. Besides that, I have connections, Jagi, she will be safe there.”

By the time he finished speaking, her legs turned lifeless and she found the floor. The warmth of the carpet could not subdue the sudden waves of chills and goosebumps enveloping her form.

“You sent her away from me…”

“I gave her a good life. Imagine if it were someone else in my place, Jagi…He would have gifted you your sister’s head first before taking yours.”

He bent down in smooth, silent motion before whispering to her with his arms holding her in faux reassurance.

Her eyes rolled back before the rawness of her throat was registered only after the rocking of her hips had slowed down. Her ears still echoed the short but sharp scream that had forced its way out of her throat like he had been forcing the pleasure out of her.

Her vision was blurry with the mix of tears and haze, but she could see him smirking– smug but somewhat unhinged.

Maybe he was indeed unhinged and cruel. He had punished her– not for her apparent betrayal. But for not loving him the way he had believed she would.

Min Yoongi had closed all doors for her, leaving her with no option but to hold on to the diamond wedding ring that now had its fangs buried on her ring finger– just as Min Yoongi had his claws buried in her life.

“Look at you~”

She heard him coo as her head fell back on the pillow, her movement growing slow and her eyes heavy.

“What has the child done to you? She needs me!” (Y/N) cried out in anguish.

Yet it did nothing to deter his cold gaze or falter the ghost of a smirk he sported with pride.

“Nothing Love, the child has done nothing. I am not her foe. I am giving her the life millions would die for– the best of the best. I would see to it all. But when would you see her again is in your hands Jagi.”

She frowned and blinked through her tears. Up close, his scar did manage to make him appear more sinister than anyone she had ever met before.

“What are you saying?”

“I love you Jagi, there is no limit, no boundary that I would not cross for you. You can meet her after we are married and you give birth to our first child. So it depends on you how soon you can do that.”

He sealed her fate with the offer. But she wondered, how could a confession of love make one’s heart quiver with fear?

“I love you, Jagi, you have no idea how much I do.”

She could smell the sweat and musk as he leaned down to kiss her forehead before guiding his manhood to enter her. Slow, but sure, a contrast of stiffness and tenderness that both frightened and baffled her.

“Oh—” (Y/N)’s voice quivered as she held onto Yoongi’s shoulders in order to keep herself grounded. It was devastating; it was delicious, it was almost divine.

But she knew that this was no more than a nefarious act of him sinking his sharp teeth into her– held down under his thumb forever. He had the advantage, the power and the last word. He was the lion, she was a helpless, powerless prey his claws dug into.

Min Yoongi was a man of his word.

He had told her once that he would marry her and live in his newly bought estate; they were indeed married, fucking on the bed that was flown all the way from a different country.

—---

The headlines flashed on the screen while wheels turned in her head. She sat stiffly without any movements as she watched the news.

“What are you watching?”

As if he were conjured, he walked into their room, some sandwiches on a plate, wearing the most innocuous-looking clothes. He had taken two months off from ‘work’, wishing to spend some quality time with his wife.

One week into the marriage, she was already wearing down. Both emotionally and physically. She doubted if there was any room in the mansion left where he had not taken her, or was there any corner of her mind where he had not wiggled his way into.

“Your company is taking responsibility for constructing new police quaters and renovating the old ones?”

“Yes, why are you so surprised?”

“There are others, older candidates. Why would they give the project to you?”

Yoongi smiled and sat down beside her.

“You are so smart, Jagi. It would be a sin to hide anything from my wife, would that not? Let's just say me and the Internal Affairs Ministry are friends now.”

He leaned in and kissed her cheek before handing her the sandwich he had put his time making.

“So, no one disrupts me now. For a long time.”

“You did this to make sure that no one comes searching for me, right?”

He grinned.

“I love you (Y/N). There is no limit that I would not cross for you. Eat up, I have a really good movie for us. You will love it. After that, we can have lunch, all your favourites.

He went on, while she spiralled further. Any hope of getting out of there was crushed then and there.

He had not taken his time to track her down. He had taken his time to plan. And execute the plan thoroughly. Tracking her down was child’s play for him.

Min Yoongi was indeed a monster—a clever, stubborn and dangerous monster.

And she was in his realm, and she was there to stay. He would make sure of that.

***

The rest of the parts will be published shortly. I am facing problems in saving the draft.

A very Happy New Year to all of you!

Banner by @cafekitsune

#yandere bts #bts yandere #the taste of deceit #yandere jin #yandere yoongi #yandere mafia bts #the taste of deceit hyungline #yandere hyngline #yandere suga #yandere yoongi x reader #yandere jin x reader #yandere yoongi smut #yandere jin smut #yandere bts x reader

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gentaro-kinniecom · 1 month

Text

Do you think you’ll kill for me one day..?

Characters: Madara Mikejima, Nagisa Ran, Himeru, Tatsumi Kazehaya, Rei Sakuma, Keito Hasumi, Natsume Sakasaki, Sena Izumi Shu Itsuki and Eichi Tenshouin (x gn!reader)

C/w: Yanderish types of themes (no gore related, just mentions of killing people), obssesive behavior and themes, mentions of Nagisa’s childhood, mentions of kidnapping, religious themes/aspects (Tatsumi), Rei is an actual vampire this time, jealousy.

A/n: I’m back..and out of the (small ish..) hiatus I’ve been for one month <3 recently I’ve liked this new game called the kid at the back, so I might begin making new works for that game <33 enjoy !

Madara Mikejima

He chuckled, staring at the many photos on the wall of them. He was happy, nothing could ever separate them, at least he made it so. Their question didn’t catch him off guard, as far as Madara knew, no one resided within the 50 mile radius from their lovely home, the one Y/n wanted for so long with him. The coffee that sat on the table turned cold as his hands took hold of their waist, kissing them passionately while smiling

“Of course, my darling. I can’t bear the sight of anyone taking you away from me..”

Nagisa Ran

Nagisa’s eyes widened slightly upon hearing their words. Being held captive for an entire childhood was something he lived with to this day: a burden. One of being a talented idol, hence, why that situation had begun in the first place. However, everytime someone would get too close to his liking, Nagisa began cultivating thoughts: the same ones in which he wanted to wisk them away for good, closing y/n in an environment that only surrounded him.

“…would killing someone be of satisfactory for you, my beloved? If so, perhaps Ibara could take care of that for me..”

Himeru

A soft smile graced his features, looking into their eyes while parting a strand of hair away from their face. (E/c) eyes reflecting a sense of curiosity that seeked to know what was truly behind their loved one. A sudden breeze made Himeru close his eyes, hands intertwined while enjoying the sudden wind that was a perk of being on the school’s roof at the moment

“Is someone bothering you? Himeru..no, I, would do anything to keep you safe, even if it involves getting my hands dirty

Tatsumi Kazehaya

Glaring at the figure that sat on their knees in front of the altar, Tatsumi knew his true nature was already exposed. Soft chuckles bounced off from the church’s walls, ringing in their ear as he approached Y/n’s form, placing a hand on their shoulder, almost reassuring them. After all, he’s hurt many people in the past, what’s one more soul to him that could beg for forgiveness but never truly meant it?

“People come and go, even if I had to plead for forgiveness a million times, I’d do whatever you’d ask me to, my one and only.”

Rei Sakuma

Hands craddled their hair softly, enjoying the feeling and taste of his beloved’s blood, groaning in pleasure at the thought of killing someone for them. A bloody mess, all for them; he’s killed before, countless of times. Mostly for blood but, now that he has them, what more could he ask for? Maybe he could do something about the pesky guys who have tried to touch y/n…After all, the world is better off without them.

“Yes I will, my darling. You needn’t ask for that, I’m willing to do anything to keep you safe by my side..”

Keito Hasumi

A sigh escaped his lips, all he could think about was of all the guys that tried to approach Y/n the other day. His pen now sat neatly on top of his notebook, turning to look at his dearest, Keito’s reason of living and breathing. Keito looked out the window, noticing small droplets of water fall down, gracing the surfaces of where they would land. Pondering for a while, Keito grabbed their hand, thumb brushung against y/n’s chuckles followed by a kiss against the top of their hand

“I’ve…never thought about it in that aspect, you don’t know what lenghts I’d go for you, as long as you’re mine, nothing else matters”

Natsume Sakasaki

Another failed attempt at one of his best potions might be caused by the question y/n had asked him hours ago. His eyes trailed towards the sleeping figure resting on his couch, the same one he’s spent making potions or studying, pulling all nighters just, for, them. Natsume held gently a strand of their hair, caressing it with his face as he sighed, kissing their cheek as he spoke

“Do you doubt it my darling? Rest assured that I’ll always, always protect you, no one will ever get between us.”

Sena Izumi

A scoff could be heard across the room as Sena turned towards them. The practice room was quiet, apart from Izumi and Y/n who’s voices could be heard, along with some casual chirps from birds and rusting of leaves outside. His light blue eyes scanned the room, following their gaze towards the world outside, instead of him. Izumi was jealous of the men who would try to court Y/n, trap them in a loveless relationship..he can’t let that happen, no matter what he has to do to earn their attention. Approaching Y/n, a hand wrapped around their waist, grabbinv their chin and bringing them close.

“In a heartbeat. Anything you desire is my duty to fulfill my love”

Shu Itsuki

His sewing machine stopped suddenly, a new dress had been crafted in the spawn of 8 hours, a work of art, made for his partner. A fitting was held that same night, deft fingers tracing along their body, a sweet gesture behind the obssesive behavior towards them. It’s almost as if, Shu wanted to make them depend on him, which..wouldn’t be such a bad idea, perhaps he could…

“I’ll make sure you hace everything, killing people is..inconvenient at the moment, but if that’s what you wish for, then, I’ll do as you please”

Eichi Tenshouin

The council room was silent, the small tapping of the computer Eichi was writing on had briefly come to a halt. His eyes bored into their own as he smiled, but something about it didn’t feel..quite right. As if, there was another deep meaning behind that smile, perhaps true happiness upon hearing the question? Who knows? All that Eichi cared about was the power he had in his hands to manipulate and change stories into whatever he wanted them to be.

“My contracts will do as I please with a flick of my finger, anything at no cost, so don’t hesitate to open up with me about your desires my love..”

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 7 months

Text

The Art of Failing [2]

Werewolf!Joel Miller x F!Reader, Vampire!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Warnings: violence and mild gore, mentions of blood and injures, reader is described as active and able to fight, eventual smut, loss of a child, angst to fluff, more warnings to come based on individual chapters

Chapter Warnings: violence, mentions of blood and injuries

Word Count: 9.6k

Summary: The Division of Mythological Affairs was created to protect and serve the supernatural community while keeping the knowledge of their existence a secret. You hoped to become an Agent of the DMA like your mother before you. Just as your dream begins to fall apart at the seams, you stumble across a missing persons report that could change everything. You are desperate to solve the case, to prove your ability, and you find yourself with unlikely allies⏤ a werewolf running from his pack and a vampire shunned from his coven. The stakes are high, lives are at risk, and success hinges on the three of you learning to work together.

[a/n: sorry this came out a day late, but thank you to everyone who wished me luck on my interview😌]

DANGER AT DUSK

"you better hold on tight, spider monkey." -twilight (film)

The idea you came up with overnight was by no means ideal. After getting back to your apartment, you and Joel traded phone numbers and you said you’d text him in the morning with an idea. Tossing and turning all you could come up with was a finding spell. The finding spell itself was a good-ish idea, but with only a name you’d need someone especially skilled to cast it. That was where the problem lied. The best person you’ve ever met when it came to finding spells was your ex-boyfriend who you avoided like the plague.

However, this situation was obviously dire and you weren’t going to let your discomfort get in the way of reuniting Joel with Ellie.

Standing in your kitchen, still in your pajamas despite it being late in the morning, you sent Gavriil a text requesting his help and he, unsurprisingly, responded very quickly. ‘So good to hear from you, my queen. I’ll be eagerly awaiting your arrival.’ You blanched at the nickname and groaned. You typed out a text to Joel as well telling him he could start heading over to your apartment to discuss the plan. He didn’t respond immediately, and you set your phone down to search through the fridge for some juice.

A knock nearly made you spill the juice you were attempting to pour. You nervously padded toward the front door and your first thought was Roberts had shown up since you weren’t answering his calls. However, a quick glance through the peephole relieved you of that worry. You unlocked the door and pulled it open with surprise, “Joel??”

“Hey.” He nodded. The flannel he wore was a different color but the overall outfit looked the same. You stared at him, your sleep heavy mind trying to wrap around the sight of him, and Joel took that time to drag his eyes up and down your body. You remembered you were just in your pajamas and squirmed in place. “Can I come in?”

“Right!” You stepped to the side and Joel passed you to enter. “I… I just texted you. How are you already here?”

“I was already in the neighborhood.”

“Already in the…” You blinked. “What time did you leave your house?”

You walked back towards your kitchen and Joel followed without answering your question. He sat down at the small dining table off to the side of your kitchen and cleared his throat. You raised your eyebrows and he sighed, “I didn’t go home.”

“You didn’t… Joel, did you sleep in your car?” You asked in shock. Joel shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Why??”

“Don’t trust fangs.”

“The Mandalorians? Did you think they were gonna follow after us?”

“Dunno.” Joel drummed his fingers against the table. “Wasn’t gonna risk it.”

Your gaze softened at his words. It was touching that Joel essentially stood guard overnight because he didn’t trust that the Mandalorians wouldn’t come after the both of you. Your lips twitched into a small smile and you rubbed your arms. “Well, you should’ve told me. You could’ve, I don’t know, slept on my couch?”

“Didn’t need to. Not the first time I slept in my truck, won’t be the last, I reckon.”

“Still. Thanks.” You replied. Joel had been staring at his hands, but he lifted his gaze to finally meet yours. He gruffly shrugged away your appreciation, but a nervous energy lingered in his eyes. You pointed behind you to the counter, “Coffee?”

“Please.” Joel nodded. You turned to make a pot of coffee and the silence that filled your kitchen was far from uncomfortable. The machine was prepped with the pot in place and you were pressing buttons when Joel chimed up. “What’s the plan today, sweetheart?”

“Well,” You finished with the machine and turned back around, “I think our best bet is a finding spell.”

“Thought we talked 'bout this last night?” Joel shook his head. On the drive home yesterday, you had asked him if he attempted anything other than coming to the DMA for help and he confided in seeking out a Finder that came up with nothing. Either Ellie specifically was hidden or the location she was at had a charm to reflect finding spells. “Didn’t work.”

“For Ellie.” You held up a finger. “I want to use a finding spell on the Mandalorian⏤ Din Djarin.”

Joel furrowed his brow and rested his arm on the back of the chair so he could face you. “Thought you needed more than a name for that kind of spell.”

“Usually, yes, but I, uh, I know a guy.” You mumbled. The sound and smell of the dripping coffee swirled in the air around you. Joel took a slow deep breath and you assumed it was to soak in the comfort that came with the smell of morning coffee. “He’s a Xagrim warlock.” Joel’s face folded in a mix of surprise and wariness. The Xagrim clan of warlocks didn’t have the greatest reputation. The dark magic they chose to play with made them more weird than evil, but there was no denying that they had skilled members in their ranks. As you well knew. “So we’ll go see him.”

Joel nodded. “How do you know he’ll help? They aren’t known for their generosity.”

“Mhmm.” You grabbed two mugs and poured coffee in each. You asked if he needed anything for it, and when he shook his head you brought him over a mug and sat next to him. “He will definitely help us.”

“He owe you a favor or somethin'?”

“Something like that.” You said. Joel took a sip of his coffee and you shrugged and mumbled. “I, sort of, used to date him.”

Joel choked on the sip of coffee he had taken and it took him a minute to clear his throat. Finally, he motioned to you, “Really?” You bit your lower lip and gave an awkward nod. Surprisingly, Joel’s cheek twitched in amusement and you briefly saw a dimple before he coughed to hide a chuckle. “You dated a Xagrim warlock?”

“He seemed nice!”

“Was he?”

“Well, no. It wasn’t a, uh, good relationship by any means.” You sighed. Joel’s amusement vanished and you watched his eyes harden. He straightened up in his seat, and you could see the question in his eyes. You held a hand out. “No! It wasn’t⏤ He wasn’t abusive or anything. He was just… weird.”

“How’s that?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain.” You tried to find an easy way to explain it without diving into the entirety of the relationship. “I hate using the word obsessed because it makes me feel conceited or something, but… He was obsessed with me. In a weird way.” Joel’s shoulders had relaxed marginally and you shrugged. “But hey, you know what they say about hindsight.”

Joel raised an eyebrow at you, “He’s a Xagrim warlock, sweetheart. Seems to me like regular sight should’ve caught that one.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and you got to see a flash of that same dimple before it disappeared again. Joel took a long sip of his coffee and when he settled the mug back down his solemn air returned. That same understandable worry and anxiety clouded his vision.

“I’m gonna get ready, then we can get going.” You shot him a tight lipped smile.

“Thanks.” He murmured.

You picked up your mug to carry with you to your bedroom so you could finish it as you got ready for the day. It felt unusual to be getting ready for some place other than work. This time yesterday you had been pulling on your blazer and high tailing it to work to get coffee orders. You pushed aside the dress clothes in your closet to find something less formal. It still felt odd to wear what used to be your mother’s shoulder holster, but Gods forbid you need it and not have it. The last thing you pulled on was the same jacket from yesterday with the badge in the pocket.

When you stepped out of your bedroom, Joel stood at your kitchen sink washing his coffee cup. You carried yours over to stop him, “Hey, you don’t gotta do that.”

“Ain't nothin', sweetheart.” He mumbled and reached out for your mug. “You done?”

You hesitated before shooting him a smile and handing him your empty cup. It was an oddly domestic task to watch a man wash dishes at your sink, and it reminded you of how painfully single you’ve been. Your last date was a couple months ago and it hadn’t been terrible, but it also hadn’t led to anything. As for an actual relationship, that had been over a year ago and you were going to go see him right now. Joel turned off the water and it jarred you back to the moment. Joel shook his hands dry, and you got your head back in the game.

Gavriil lived in a neighborhood where the supernatural tended to drift toward. There was no specific area designed for non human housing specifically, but like found like. His house was a small one nestled in a cul de sac, and if you remembered correctly Gavriil had a few warlock neighbors as well. When you pulled outside of his house, you heaved an involuntary sigh.

“You sure 'bout this?” Joel asked.

You forced a broad smile, “Yes! Absolutely. Gavriil is gonna cast the spell, we’re gonna find this Din Djarin guy, and we’ll have our next clue to get us to Ellie.”

“Alright.” Joel replied slowly.

He still looked skeptical and you gave him a thumbs up before climbing out of the car. Before you could lose steam or determination, you sped walk to the front door with Joel only a step behind you. You rapped your knuckles against the front door and heard Gavriil calling out that he was coming. His voice alone made you cringe. The door swung open and Gavriil beamed at you. He was tall like Joel, but whereas Joel had strong, broad shoulders, Gavriil was skinny. Gangly would actually be a more apt term.

“My queen!” He cooed with a smile. He reached out for a hug and you held out an arm to awkwardly pat his shoulder and keep him from wrapping his arms around you. Just as you remembered him, he wore a full, elaborate suit with a bow tie. His blond hair pushed back and out of his face. “It is so good to see you again.” His blue eyes raked up and down your body and you resisted the urge to shudder. “Oh, how I have missed you.”

“Thank you for having us, Gavriil.” You sighed. “Appreciate it.”

“Of course, of course! Come in!”

Gavriil turned to hurry back into his house and you hesitated for only a second before stepping in. Joel’s hand wrapped around your elbow and your eyes widened in surprise at his touch. Joel’s brow furrowed in confusion, “You dated that?”

“Uh, yes.” You replied with a bit of shame. “It was… a phase?” It wasn’t an entire lie. Back when you first started dating Gavriil, a portion of the decision had been focused on annoying your mother. “It wasn’t a long relationship.”

“You seem uncomfortable, sweetheart.” Joel replied as he shut the door behind the both of you. “Are you sure you’re okay bein' here? I don’t like the way he looks at… I just don’t like him.”

You appreciated him looking out for you. It must have been a wolf thing. Joel was just naturally protective. “It’s fine. I promise. I know he’s kind of odd.” The two of you walked deeper into the house through a foyer hallway and into a living room. You scrunched your nose at the pea green color of Gavriil’s walls⏤ recalling the familiar walls with disdain. “But he’s a nice guy overall. He’s just…” Your words came to a halt as your eyes landed on a two foot by two foot sized picture of you and Gavriil still hanging on the wall. A table covered in rose petals and unlit candles sat under it. “…insane.”

“I cannot express to you how happy I was to receive your text, my queen.” Gavriil sighed. He must have noticed that you were still staring at the wall in shock. He chuckled, “I know. Beautiful, right? That was such a wonderful day.”

To be honest, you literally could not recall the day he was referencing. You were obviously in the picture and were out with him, but for the life of you there was no memory of that moment in your mind. You slowly shook your head, “Gavriil, this is…”

“Yes?”

“Look, I thought I made the text clear, this is strictly a business visit.” You said firmly. You motioned back to Joel. “This is Joel Miller. I’m currently working with him on a case⏤”

“I know what you said, but I can read between the lines.” Gavriil hummed. This had always been the problem with the warlock. He was delusional with the state of your relationship, and the pedestal he had placed you on was so uncomfortable. It tended to make your skin crawl. It wasn’t devotion or loyalty⏤ it was possession and obsession to a dizzying degree. “Let me get the two of you a drink. We can get around to the spell, and then afterwards the two of us…”

Gavriil was reaching out for you again. You were prepared to sidestep him and reiterate your boundaries, but Joel’s hand snapped out making you jump in surprise. Gavriil yelped as the wolf’s hand clamped down around his wrist. You turned your head to see his confusion from earlier had melted away into irritation. “It’s clear she don’t want you touchin' her.” Joel stepped closer but didn’t let go. “So either you keep your damn hands to yourself or I’ll rip 'em off. Got it?”

“G-Got it. I understand.” Gavriil blurted.

Joel roughly shoved the warlock’s hand back toward him. He focused back on you and you sucked in a sharp breath at the intensity of his gaze. Joel Miller was a werewolf with razor sharp claws and a snarling bite designed to kill, but the deadliest thing about this man had to be those brown eyes. Joel nodded, “You okay with that picture hangin' or you want it gone?”

“I… I’d like it gone.” You replied.

Gavriil jumped to try and pull it down, but Joel beat him to it. The wolf pulled the frame off the wall, slammed it onto the table so the glass of the frame shattered and tinkled to the floor, and when it was in pieces he took the picture itself. Gavriil watched, with terrified eyes, as Joel tore the picture to shreds right in front of him.

“This makin' my point clear or do I need to spell it out for you?” Joel demanded.

“Nope! I am⏤ I am on the same page.” Gavriil stumbled over his feet as he backpedaled down the hall. “Let’s do a, uh, spell! Spell time. Yeah, we can⏤ okay.”

The warlock rushed into a room stiff as a board and you let out an amused chuckle. Joel was already watching you when you shot a glance his way, and you shook your head, “You didn’t need to do all of that for me.”

“Was nothin'.” He shrugged.

“No, it was… thanks.” Joel gave you a small nod. “Anytime I’m mean to him, he just thinks I’m flirting with him.” You rolled your eyes.

You both drifted further down the hall. Joel shrugged, “I don’t think I’ll be havin' that problem with him.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think you will.” You grinned and pointed to your own eyes jokingly. “The homicide in your eyes really gets the point across.” Joel chuckled. “But who knows? Maybe next time we have to hustle the warlock for a spell there’ll be a Joel Miller shrine hanging up.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

Gavriil’s casting room was as you remembered it as well, though you hadn’t spent much time in here at all. Dark walls to match the deep red carpet, windows painted black, a circular table at the center covered in an ivory colored cloth, and the bookshelves lining the floors were overflowing with more than just aged books. Bones, greenery, feathers, and things you couldn’t even recognize from a singular glance. Tools and tricks of his trade. When you stepped in, you scrunched your nose at the sharp smell of magic hanging in the air. It tickled your nose the same way antiseptic cleaners would but there was a sickly sweet undertone lingering with it.

“For fuck’s sake.” Joel barked out gruffly.

“Sorry, I’ve been prepping for the spell.” Gavriil said while pulling things off his shelf to stack on the table. He rustled through a cabinet to find a golden thin, metal bowl that he set at the center of the table. “I know it’s strong. If you want you can wait outside⏤”

“Tryin' to get her alone??” Joel replied gruffly.

“Gods, no!” Gavriil balked and stumbled over his words before burying himself in boxes of his ingredients. He murmured under his breath and you could almost see the cold, panicked sweat dripping down the back of his neck. His hand shook as he found candles to light.

You sat down at the table and Joel took the seat beside you. A chuckle left you, “You’re just screwing with him now.”

“Maybe.” Joel shrugged and you loved the sight of the slightly crooked smirk that briefly graced his face. “Can’t say it’s not fun.” Joel being intimidating Gavriil just to be a little shit hadn’t been a side of him you expected to see, but you found it amusing. He tilted his head, “This seriously your type though, sweetheart?”

“No. I told you it was a phase.” You argued. “I don’t have a type. Not really.” Joel raised an eyebrow at you mockingly and you resisted the urge to shove him. “I don’t! And if I did, my type wouldn’t be gangly, obsessive warlocks.”

“Gods, I hope not.”

Gavriil glanced over his shoulder, “You know I can hear you, right?”

“Yeah?” Joel scoffed. “So?”

“Right.” Gavriil turned back to his work. You shot Joel a dry look and the wolf just shrugged at you nonchalantly. A minute or so later, the warlock was sitting down across from you and Joel with an armful of supplies. “This spell won’t give you an address by any means, but it will allow you to see what the person can see. Hopefully, you can identify their location based on that. It’s a quick look, only a minute at most. The tricky issue with finding someone by name is names can be common. Can you shut the door?” Joel leaned back in his seat and stretched his long arm out to swing the door shut. The room darkened so the only light came from the candles now lit on the table. “I can limit our search area which helps but…”

You shook your head, “Our guy’s name is Din Djarin. As long as you limit it to Austin, I think we’ll be good.”

Gavriil pointed at you in agreement and began to dust out a crushed red powder in concentric lines on top of the ivory cloth and surrounding the bowl. He poured water into the bowl, about halfway up, and sprinkled more ingredients into it. In terms of magic, you knew a spell or two off the top of your head, but those were two part spells that any chump off the street could pull off with the right materials. Nothing to the immense degree that Gavriil was putting together right now.

“The more minds working on this the better.” Gavriil said. “Place your hands on the basin and think his name in your head. Focus only on that name.”

You settled your hands on your side of the basin alongside Joel, and his fingers pressed against yours. His skin was warm, unsurprising for a wolf, but you didn’t expect to fill you with a heat of your own. From where his fingers rested on top of yours, up your arm, into your chest, and down to your core, you felt ablaze. Enough so that you nearly pulled away in shock. If Joel was affected by the touch, he didn’t show it. His face remained folded in careful, gruff concentration. You forced your gaze to the rim of the bowl and tried to shove every other thought out of your head save for the Mandalorian’s name. It didn’t extinguish the fire now burning in your chest, but it would have to do.

Gavriil began to murmur words in a language you didn’t recognize and an unusual breeze filled the air. The water in the basin began to swirl and the ingredients that had been floating at the top drowned into the water and dissolved until the water itself began to glow a light blue.

You were yelling the Mandalorian’s name in your head desperately. If this didn’t work you’d be back to useless with nothing to offer the wolf but condolences. Gavriil shouted a few more words and the candles blew out leaving the room in the dim glow of the water. An image began to swirl to life and simultaneously the three of you rose from your seats to peer in.

“That’s funny.” Gavriil hummed. You narrowed your eyes at the image glowing in the bowl. It was a plain hallway with ugly pea green walls and the door Din Djarin was apparently staring at looked suspiciously like the door you had walked through only moments ago. “Looks like my⏤”

The realization clicked with both you and Joel at the same time. Unfortunately, it was the same second that Din Djarin kicked down the door. The vampire came barreling through the door in his armor and slammed it directly into Joel who was sent to the ground with a grunt. In one movement, the Mandalorian flipped the table to take Gavriil down, not that the yelping warlock required much work, and a gloved hand clamped around your throat. You clawed uselessly at the hand as Din dragged you out into the hall to slam you into the wall.

You hissed in pain and your eyes widened as you found yourself staring at your own reflection as the Mandalorian’s helmet sat inches away from your face. In a low, deadly voice⏤ modulated by his armor⏤ he spoke a string of rushed Mando’a followed by English.

“Why are you searching for me? Who sent you?” He squeezed tighter around your neck and you winced in pain. Din pushed you harder against the wall as he barked out, “Where is Grogu!?”

You didn't have the air to voice your confusion, but it didn't matter. A large body tackled the armored man and you dropped to the ground gasping for air. You rubbed your neck instinctively and stared wide eyed as a monstrous sized, brown wolf wrestled the Mandalorian to the ground. They were a blur of russet and silver.

“Joel!” You cried out in concern. It was hard to see who had the upper hand. Every time Joel seemed to get ahead the vampire managed to slip out of his jaws, and whenever Din Djarin had him pinned down the wolf managed to twist away. All that actually mattered was the flash of red. They were crashing through Gavriil’s furniture, but the smears of red blood against the warlock’s carpet called out to you like a siren’s song. Joel was bleeding.

You sprinted back into the spell room and cursed when you saw a bookcase of materials had been knocked over. Based on the shreds of clothing scattering the floor by the splintered wood, you assumed that had been Joel. Quickly, still hearing the sounds of the fight, you scrambled for two familiar ingredients. You found the first, phoenix ash, but the second was eluding you.

“Gavriil! Where’s your dragon’s breath!?” You yelled. Gavriil whimpered in response as he hid under the remains of his table. You picked up a book and threw it at him. “Gavriil! Dragon’s breath! Now!”

The warlock crawled to the side, wincing when another loud crack came from the living room, and rooted inside a drawer before holding out a thin circular jar filled with the volatile air. You snatched it from his hand and opened the first lid to push in as much of the phoenix ash as you could then rushed back out to the living room while shaking it in your hand. You could feel the glass beginning to grow hot.

Din and Joel remained tangled with one another in a fight and as much as you wanted to help you knew getting in between the two able bodies would crush you in a second. Their combined strength would grind your bone to dust.

The jar was beginning to burn against your skin, but the moment you waited for came. Din grasped Joel by the fur and threw him hard enough into the unlit fireplace that bricks shook loose. You sprinted forward to jump onto Din’s back⏤ wrapping around him like monkey. Din’s hands reached back to grab you by arm and he flipped you over his shoulder. You hit the ground, losing all the air in your lungs, but as he was bent over and still in your face, you clapped your hands together and smashed the thin, burning glass in your hands. A bright flash of burning light went off directly in his face. Helmet or no helmet, with the bottled sunlight going off so close to him, Din grunted in pain and fell back and collapsed in a heap of silver armor.

That bought you at least a few minutes.

The downside to setting off the spell directly into Din’s face was that it had also succeeded in blowing back on you. You weren’t a vampire so it didn’t knock you out, and you had closed your eyes in time to avoid blinding yourself, but your cheeks burned as if you had been out in the sun too long. You felt shards of glass resting on your face but your hands stung too much to try and rub them away.

“Fuck.” Joel’s voice was suddenly in your space, he grunted out your name. Those same hot hands cupped one side of your face while the other carefully brushed away the shards of glass. “Sweetheart, open your eyes.” You slowly blinked your eyes open, wincing a bit, and were met with Joel’s eyes blown wide with worry. “There you go. Good girl.”

“Got him.” You croaked followed by a groan. Joel was kneeling beside you and he helped you sit up. “Are you…” Joel’s nose was bleeding and blood covered his teeth and stained his lower lip. Bruises lined his body and you caught sight of a cut on his side, but your gaze was derailed. Your eyes had set out on an innocent mission of ensuring he was safe and took a sharp nose dive into admiration. Joel had freckles on his broad shoulders, ones born of being out in the sun, and somehow he looked even more broad naked. Your gaze traced down his chest, peppered in dark and silver hair, to the small pudge of belly and then down to⏤ Your eyes snapped back up to his and you didn’t know how it was physically possible but your face burned hotter now than it did seconds ago with a literal handheld bomb going off above you. “Okay.” Joel’s brow furrowed and you cleared your throat. “Are you okay?? The fight?”

Joel shook his head, “I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry 'bout me.”

“You don’t look fine.” Mindlessly, you reached out and brushed your thumb against the corner of his mouth where a bit of blood escaped. The touch lasted a second before you were snatching your hand back into your own personal space. “The um… the vampire.”

You turned in place, away from the very naked Joel Miller, and over to where Din Djarin still laid on the ground. Gavriil had come out of the room and your eyes widened when you saw he had drawn a large containment circle around the fallen vampire. He gave you a tight lipped smile, “I helped.”

“You did.” You blew out a tired breath and glanced back at Joel with a tight lipped smile. “He did.”

Joel groaned in exhaustion.

You sat cross legged on the floor staring at the vampire who was bound to wake up soon. Joel was off with Gavriil seeking out a pair of pants or some kind of covering, and you absentmindedly rubbed at your neck. Of all the parts of you that hurt, your neck was the least of your problems, but being pinned against the wall by your throat at the hands of a Mandalorian had been jarring. The entire moment had been so high adrenaline. You were only just now grasping everything that had happened.

There was a quiet gasp and you straightened your posture as the Mandalriaon sat up quickly. His head swiveled to the sides taking in the scene before landing on you. You awkwardly gave a wave, “Hi. Me again.” You shrugged. “Sorry about the bottled sunlight, but you were tossing around my friend so… I think we’re kind of even, you know?”

“Who are you?” He demanded, voice hoarse.

You quickly introduced yourself then motioned to him, “And you are Din Djarin. Right?” The Mandalorian didn’t respond. “That’s okay. Don’t actually need confirmation.” You cleared your throat and rubbed at your neck again. “So, is Grogu your kid?”

Din tensed, shoulders went stiff, before he jumped to his feet. You startled at the sudden movement, but Joel’s voice barked from down the hall. “Hey!” You pushed to stand and Joel rushed over. He wore a silk, kimono style bathrobe that ended mid thigh and strained against his wide shoulders. A laugh slipped out of you, and Joel turned to watch you slap a hand over your mouth. The navy blue silk decorated with a Japanese landscape and flowers was tied at his waist but you could still see most of his chest. Joel gave you a dry look and you shook your head⏤ keeping your hand locked over your mouth. Joel grumbled and turned back around. “Back off, bloodsucker.”

His voice still managed to carry the weight of his threat despite the ridiculous robe on him. You set a hand on his arm in reassurance. Joel held your stare for a beat before sighing and backing away from the trapped vampire. He crossed his arms and stood a step right behind you like a kimono covered guard dog. When you looked back to Din, you finally noticed the black ichor on his side. Vampires didn’t bleed⏤ not like we did at least.

“Shit.” You blurted and leaned to the side to try and see the origin of his wound. The suit under his armor was saturated in the black blood like fluid that oozed from his wound, and you could see torn material, but you couldn’t make out the degree of the injury. “You’re hurt.”

“Good.” Joel blurted.

You gave the wolf a glare that he didn’t wilt under and Din seemed to still no react to your reaction of his wounds. The air around you hung awkward and tense. Finally, you sighed and shifted your weight. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here.” You tried again. “You probably don’t recognize me, but yesterday morning⏤”

“I remember you.” Din cut you off curtly. “You were in the hallway. DMA Headquarters.”

“Yeah!” You nodded. “We passed one another. I spoke to the Captain right after you and I saw that you filed a missing persons report for your kid.” You motioned back to Joel. “This is Joel Miller. He came in later that afternoon for a similar reason. Him and I are working together to find his daughter and any other missing kid⏤ there’s been a weird amount of them this last month.” Din’s helmet tilted marginally and you wished you could see his face to garner a guess at how this was going. “We went to the Mandalorian coven to find you in hopes that maybe something you knew could help us.”

Din crossed his own arms, mimicking Joel’s stance, “I know. I was tipped off that someone was looking for me. That’s why I found you. I don’t need a human and a wolf chasing after me and getting in my way.”

“Fuckin' Mandalorian⏤” Joel grumbled.

You shot the wolf a light glare over your shoulder before turning back to Din. “Look, I know this isn’t an ideal situation by any means, but the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” You pasted on the best friendly smile you could muster. “Ipso facto, we’re friends!”

Joel and Din responded at the same time in an unsurprising way.

“We are not friends.”

“We ain’t friends with him.”

You blew out a breath and tried to get a handle on this again. “Look. I get it. Werewolves and vampires have been at each others’ throats for a millenia.” You clasped your hands together then winced at the stinging wounds that brushed against one another. “But you’re not that different.” Both men began to argue. “You’re both fathers.” Joel and Din went silent. “You’re fathers who would do anything to protect your kid, and right now that’s all that matters. Whether you guys like it or not, we’re on the same side.”

After a long pause that you prayed would end with agreement, Din shook his head, “How do you expect me to trust you either, human? You’re DMA and their hands have been in all of this. If the wolf had half a mind he wouldn't trust you either.”

“Well, actually I’m not officially⏤ wait, what?” You blurted. Din’s gaze was covered by dark glass, but you could still feel his stare boring into you. “The DMA… What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t know?”

You stepped forward, panicked and frazzled, and Joel’s hand wrapped around your wrist but you didn’t turn around, “Don’t know what??”

“The Division of Mythological Affairs is involved. Either in covering it all up or directly, I don’t know yet.” Din responded. Your jaw fell open to argue, but the words got caught in your throat. “I have an inside source. A siren that works with the DMA as an informant. She let it slip. That’s why I haven’t been back⏤ why I’m handling this alone.”

One of your hands lifted to rest on your forehead as you tried to wrestle together an argument. There was no reason to trust a vampire who had hearsay from a siren. There was no reason to believe that the DMA would have their hands in something so dirty. There was no reason for you to doubt the organization your mother had been a part of, the one you wanted to be a part of, except… Deep in your belly, there was a vague nagging suspicion. Not enough to vocalize, not enough to stomach, not enough to grasp. It left a shadow of doubt in your mind though and that made you nauseous.

You needed to talk to Captain Roberts.

Not listen to his voicemails or call him back.

No, you needed to sit down in front of him and demand answers.

At the very least, he could restore your good faith in the DMA and help you find the missing kids.

“How long has your child been missing?” Din suddenly asked.

Joel’s hand around your wrist, the one you just now noticed was still there, tightened at his question. He hummed, “It’ll be 48 hours tonight.”

“I assume they were taken from your home.” Din said. “Do you live in the Dripping Springs neighborhood?”

“Yeah, how’d you⏤”

“That’s where we were. The area at least, my son and I.” Din replied as his shoulders sunk. His next words were mostly mumbled to himself, “I never should have left him alone. I thought it would be safer, I was on a hunt, but…”

Determined, you tugged your hand away from Joel to kneel down and begin rubbing a break in the containment circle. Joel grasped your shoulder with a warning hiss. Gavriil, who you thought had stepped outside to hide, cried out in alarm. You hushed away their worries and broke the circle. When you stood back up, Din was closer. Nearly chest to chest, but you kept your shoulders back and your chin high.

“We’re gonna save them. Ellie.” You motioned back to Joel. Then you nodded toward Din, “Grogu.” The vampire stiffened. “All the kids. We’re gonna find and save them, but we’re stronger together than apart.” You sucked in a breath to settle your nerves. “Please, Din, will you help us? Will you let us help you?”

The silence that filled the room was achingly long, but Din finally gave a curt nod of his head. You couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief. It was official. You had managed to string together the weirdest team in history, but it was a team nonetheless. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Now, to catch us up to speed, I assume you’ve already tried a finding spell?” You asked. Din tilted his head at you deadpan. “Right. And it didn’t work. So, taken from the same region about the same time, both your son and his daughter can’t be found via tracking spell. I think that’s enough evidence to say this has to be connected. Although, I can’t figure out what the kids would have in common. A vampire and⏤”

“Grogu is not a vampire. Not… entirely, at least.” Din said. “I don’t think his other half is human, but to be honest I couldn’t guess the other side of his genetic makeup.”

“So, he’s mixed, just like…” You glanced back at Joel who looked surprised himself.

It wasn’t surprising for a Mandalorian to adopt a non-vampire child. They had a tendency to pick up stray humans as well. But if you had learned one thing from your mother it was this⏤ there are no coincidences in this line of work. If you didn’t have a good enough reason to visit Roberts at DMA Headquarters before you sure as hell did now. You wanted to look at the other missing person cases and see how many of those kids were mixed.

“I need to meet with someone. Joel, I’ll drive you to my place first so you can pick up your truck.” You said. “Then we can meet up at my place later today? After I, uh, get some more information.” Joel seemed agreeable and his dark eyes stayed narrowed at Din as if waiting for the vampire to annoy him in some other way. However, Din just bobbed his head once⏤ ignoring the wolf. You passed Din to step into the kitchen and rooted through a kitchen drawer to fetch a notepad and pen. “Here. Let me write down my address.”

“I already know where you live.” Din responded as you scribbled it down.

“You already…Wait, you already know where I⏤” You looked up to question him further but somehow the vampire was just gone. You scanned the living room as if his large, silver form would be hiding behind Gavriil’s skinny form or if he’d be cowered under the remains of the couch. “Oh.”

“Fuckin' fanged stalker.” Joel grumbled.

You tossed aside the notepad. If Din knew where you lived already, you wondered if that meant he had been following you and Joel all morning⏤ or even last night. Gavriil cleared his throat and you and Joel focused on him. He wrung his hands, “This has been fun, and it has been so good to see you, but erm…” The warlock scrunched his features up as he sought out his words. “Can you both leave?”

A sheepish smile flickered on your features, “Right. Thanks so much, Gavriil. Sorry about the…” You motioned out to the absolutely wrecked living room. “The mess.” The warlock was quick to usher you both our of his home and the last word you got in was the promise to send him some money to make up for the damages⏤ though you doubted you had the kind of money to fix much of this.

Standing outside his door, Joel hummed, “Good news, I don’t think he’ll be botherin' you ever again.”

“True.” You nodded and shot him a smirk. “Also, you got that really cool robe.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

The best part of screening all your calls, and purposefully ignoring Roberts’, meant that you had technically not been fired yet. Can’t be fired if you refuse to talk to your boss. Nima had called you on your way in to check in on you after yesterday, and you got to inform her that you were working with a werewolf and a vampire to find missing children. Not just any werewolf or vampire either. A werewolf with no pack and a vampire shunned from his coven. You managed to render Nima speechless which was not an easy feat.

“Just please, please, please be careful.” She pleaded over the phone. “This sounds dangerous as hell.”

“I will, Nima.” You reassured.

“Yeah? Because from what I hear, you’ve already been choked out by a Mandalorian and you visited your weirdo ex.”

You nodded. “In my defense, the Mandalorian didn’t choke me out. He just…grabbed me roughly.” Without saying a word, you could hear her skepticism somehow. “Plus! Thanks to Joel, I don’t think Gavriil is gonna bother me again.”

“Really??”

As you walked into the Headquarters, keeping your head down, you told her about what Joel had done for you. You were half distracted during your story telling trying to keep an eye out for any face that could mean you trouble.

“We also destroyed half his house so that could be part of it.” You mumbled at the end of your story. You peered around the corner to see Captain Roberts’ personal assistant still sitting at the desk outside his office. The Captain usually ended up staying late. He had a bad habit of letting his work seep into after hours, but he never forced his assistant to linger with him. She left on time, and being that it was a few minutes after five she had to be leaving soon.

“Interesting.” Nima said. You pulled back around the corner and hid off to the side on your phone. “Sounds like he was very… protective over you.”

You snorted, “He’s a wolf, Nima. That’s kind of their thing.”

“Yeah, for their pack, which you said he does not have,” Nima replied, “Or…”

“Or?”

“Babe, do I really need to say it?”

“That would be helpful, yes.”

Nima scoffed, “He’s into you!”

You shook your head immediately as if she’d be able to see your disbelief, “No. His daughter is missing and⏤”

“I’m not saying he’s gonna be making a move. Obviously, his priorities are on his family as they should be, but I think it speaks to some level of interest that he’s instinctively protective of you.”

“That’s⏤ You’re⏤ No.”

It was a weak argument, but you couldn’t let your mind get stuck on that line of thought. It was distracting enough that you could easily recall the strong lines of his bare body. If you started picturing the taste of his skin on your tongue, or the warmth the brush of his hand alone could bring, you’d drown in your desire at just the sight of him. Right now, with the stakes being what they are, you couldn’t afford to let anything slow you down.

Nima began to argue when you spotted the very pregnant assistant leave her desk and start walking down the hall away from you. “Nima, I gotta go.”

You waited until she was in the elevator and off the floor entirely before hurrying around the corner to Roberts’ office. The door was locked with a code, but it was one you knew by heart. Once in, you shut the door behind you and began to search his office. Any missing persons report got stored with the Captain for at least a few months. Once enough time had passed, or if the case was solved, it got moved to the digital records alone. All of the kid cases you wanted to see would still be active.

The stack you were able to find in the filing cabinet was about half of the ones filed. You couldn’t find any others, but this would at least be a start. You dropped down into the Captain’s chair and began to flip through the case files. The main information you were seeking didn’t take long. Half-nymph. Half-vampire. Half-siren. Half-fae. Half-djinn. It was the trend you thought you might find. Just like Ellie and Grogu, all the other kids were mixed. You threw aside the folders and sunk in the chair. This was plainly obvious to see. It was a pattern that anybody off the street could look at and notice.

How could an entire organization, skilled and trained Agents, look at this and not see it?

Din’s words haunted you and you felt ill.

Realistically, you should leave now before you got caught, but you needed answers. You needed someone to look you in the eyes and admit to this disaster. You sat in Roberts’ chair waiting, knowing he’d have to be back eventually, but after ten minutes of wallowing in the worst case scenario thoughts that flooded your mind you began to nosily root around his desk drawers. In the drawer on the same side of his computer, you found a picture of Roberts and your mother. It reminded you a lot of the picture you kept of you and your mother at your graduation. They were celebrating and there was pride in Roberts’ eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Your eyes snapped up to see the Captain standing in his doorway with his eyes narrowed at you in annoyance. You shook your head, “Nobody has fired me yet.”

“First, that is not the winning loophole you think it is.” Roberts replied and came around his desk. You stood from the chair and circled at the same time so your positions were reversed. “Second, I meant what are you doing in my office?”

“Finding answers.”

“Did you find them?”

You stayed silent and just stared. Roberts’ looked more worn down than before, exhausted, and the tired lines were carved into his aged features. He sat down in his chair and readjusted the mess you left on his desktop. “The missing kids.” You blurted. “Tell me the DMA is working on solving the case and they aren’t involved in any other unsavory way.”

“Cases. Plural.”

“No. Case.” You corrected again. “And the fact that nobody else sees that makes me seriously question what’s going on here.” Roberts remained silent. “You not giving me a straight answer isn’t helping, Roberts.”

“Kid, it’s not that simple⏤”

“No.” You repeated yourself, and you felt anger began to boil under your skin. “It is that simple. Hell, it’s black and white. Is the DMA looking the other way on this case purposefully??”

Roberts leaned back in his chair and his fingers drummed against the desk. You were too amped up to sit down. It was a miracle you weren’t pacing the floor in front of him. Finally, he flattened his hand on the desk and sighed, “The DMA now is not the DMA your mother was familiar with. Things have changed and not for the better.” You knew what his answer was most likely to be, but hearing it in his voice made it all the more real. “We are not actively pursuing the case.”

“Are you fucking kidding me⏤”

“Look⏤”

“They’re kids, Roberts!” You slammed your hands on his desk. “Literal children! The youngest I saw in the case files I found was a 2 year old!” Roberts at least had the decency to look ashamed at your outburst. “You’re okay with this??”

His eyebrows furrowed into a glare, “Of course, I’m not⏤”

“Then why aren’t you doing anything!?”

“My hands are tied!” Captain Roberts roared. It was the loudest you had heard him raise his voice at you and it was filled with desperation. “I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t, and the powers that be will not allow a low level Captain rock the boat.” Roberts always seemed to carry so much responsibility and respect that hearing him refer to himself as low level felt wrong. “They’ll get rid of me in a heartbeat and put someone in this office who will actively try to please them instead of just appeasing them when necessary.” Roberts scoffed. “The system is broke.”

You threw a hand up, “Then let’s fix the system.”

Roberts stared at you for a long moment before sighing, “You sound just like your mother.” He locked his jaw and rubbed his face once before adding. “She thought she could change the world too.”

“Roberts…”

His eyes darted beyond you, up to the wall where a clock sat, and he stood up, “You need to leave.” You began to argue. “This is not up for debate, kid.” Roberts pulled out a drawer to root around until he found one of his business cards. He flipped it over to scribble on the back. Roberts came around the desk to shove it into your hand and began to push you toward the door. “Find Agent Brancato. He’s undercover and I’m not the lead on his unit so I can’t offer any leaders, but he can help.”

“Roberts, come with me.” You turned on your heels to face him. “Help me find him and solve the case. Together we can⏤”

“I can’t, kid.” He sighed and reached out to squeeze your shoulder. His eyes scanned your features, “Your mother meant a lot to me. She was the daughter I never had and…” Roberts shook his head. “I wish you would let this go, but I know you won’t because she wouldn’t. Just please be careful.”

“I will.” You mumbled. A million more questions lingered in your mind, but Roberts was shutting his office door before a single one could be uttered. You stood there a little longer in hopes that the Captain would reopen the door and offer you more concrete answers, but it remained sealed shut. You heaved a sighed and began to leave.

The card in your hand had the name ‘Tim Brancato’ written on the back with no further information. It wasn’t a name you were familiar with, but if he worked in the undercover world that made sense. He wouldn’t be very good at his job if you had heard of him. You could always twist Gavriil’s arm into another name finding spell, but this name was a lot more common if you had to guess. Plus, most Agents warded themselves against that kind of spell.

The parking garage was empty which wouldn’t normally worry you at this time, but a ball of anxiety sat heavy in your gut right now. Maybe it was just the talk with Roberts that had put you on edge. You took steady steps to your vehicle but they slowed when you spotted someone by your car. Miles Jackson had his arms crossed as he leaned against the back of your car. You tensed at the sight of him. He caught your eye and lifted his hand to give you a mocking wave. Before you could react, rough hands grabbed you from behind and a bag was pulled over your head.

You screamed in alarm but a thick and heavy hand clamped down over your mouth through the bag. Multiple hands manhandled you and dragged you across the parking garage floor. You threw your elbows back and tried to kick out, but without a line of vision your attacks were useless. A car door slid open nearby, one found on a van, and you were suddenly shoved forward. You grunted in pain when your knees hit the metal of the van’s back.

“Get off me!” You screamed and thrashed but a knee pressed down in the middle of your spine.

As soon as the pressure was applied it was immediately taken off and you heard the familiar sounds of a fight filled the air. You scrambled to get the bag off of your head as something heavy hit the van hard enough to shake the entire thing. The second you had the bag off, you flipped over to face out the door and drew your gun. Panting, you held it at the ready, but the person standing outside the van door hadn’t been what you expected.

“Din?” You breathed.

He had his hand tangled in the jacket of an unfamiliar man who was half unconscious and weakly thrashing. Din’s helmeted gaze met yours and with little effort he threw the man in his arm back. You heard the heavy body hit the ground.

“Are you alright?” Din asked. You were still trying to let the shock wear off, and Din surprised you by holding out a hand. It shook you out of your disbelief. You took his hand and he helped pull you out of the van⏤ letting go of you as soon as you were on your feet. Two other men were lying unconscious at Din’s feet.

“Where did you… How did you…” You tried to decide which question you wanted to ask first.

“I didn’t trust you.” Din responded. “No offense.” You blinked and slid your gun back into the holster. “I saw you were coming here and I had to be certain you weren’t with them.”

“With them?”

Din nodded back toward the building you had left, “The DMA.”

You rubbed your face briefly and scanned the ground. “There should be one more guy. Miles Jackson.”

“A man got into his car and sped away. I didn’t give chase. Should I have?”

You pushed past Din to reach the barrier of the parking garage and peered over the edge. You were on the third floor and as you scanned the roads below you spotted Jackson’s flashy, red camaro. As he sped away, the vehicle faded into the distance⏤ merging with the red and orange hues that decorated the dusk skyline. “No.” You heaved a sigh and shook your head. “We gotta get out of here. I got the info we needed.”

“And that is?”

You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the card to hold out to the vampire beside you. His gloved fingers took it from you so he could read both sides. “That man. Tim Brancato. We find him, we find answers.”

For notifs on updates, as I no longer do taglists, please follow @theidiotupdates

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#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #joel miller #mando x reader #reader insert #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #vampire!din djarin #werewolf!joel miller

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ellzilla · 4 months

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I like the silly Pokemon Parody Ark Ripoff game so here's my two cents if you're interested. Under the cut bc this post is long as fuck lol Also congrats Palworld for the 1.5 Milly player peak on steam, go you crazy ass indie game

After trying to find cute Palworld content on tumblr and seeing nothing but whining, it's surprising how many people hate this random ass indie game that was made on a budget of 10k? Like yeah the designs can be boring parodies with a handful of great original ones but the amount of people who are outright hateful's kinda.. odd? Like lads you can critique a game, it's designs and CEO without sending death threats to the developers right? Tumblr likes to steal from the rich so why is it bad when someone actually does? Anyway it's insane how there's people trying to prove the game stole assets from Nintendo and then compare models which. Are not the same poly and vertices wise? And even if it was, it's hard to take seriously when the poster is someone who admits they hate the game for... Animal abuse? Also insane how many people hate Palworld for the fact it has -human- slavery, Pals can do jobs for you 'so it's cruel' and has a certain Pal number 69 who's description is suggestive so the game's immoral and over all "trying too hard to be edgy" it's like. Since when do we police such topics in games of all things? Have you played games that aren't Baby's First Christian Game before? Scratch that because even shitty bad Christian games have harsher shit than what's in Palworld. Catching and selling ppl [who tried to kill you in the first place] in the game's exactly like catching 'mons and it's nowhere near as fucked up as Rimworld where you have to go out of your way to make prisons for people and, if you wanna be extra evil, you can extract their organs and sell them on the market n' nobody tried to cancel that game. In-game, Palworld discourages you from overworking your lil guys and asks you to make spas and beds and keep them well fed and to make sure they're medically sound and happy! Oh no! How cruel! I am asking my little teapot elephant to water my garden!!! Pokemon's also confirmed that people used to marry Pokemon in-lore and we have games like bg3 and DOS2 where. Um. Halsin is a bear in more ways than one yknow what I'm saying? also spider. Both pretty nasty and def not my cuppa but having a fit over a description in a game's kinda weird? Also for a game promoted on "Pokemon with guns" it is INCREDIBLY tame. Slavery is p-much "oh lol I can catch this guy. Anyway back to petting my fire fox :)" and put him in a box like any other creature bc who cares, videogame + the guy literally tried to Kill You. There's also no blood or gore or anything actually shocking tbh? Yeah there's guns but they're late game and you can literally chose not to deal with guns

Since when did we decide to yell at a game like the satanic panic of the original pokemon where ppl said it promoted cockfighting? Although it is fictional cockfighting gamewise, nobody cares because it's way more than that lol Also why does nobody complain that the game is literally ARK btw? Is it because ARK players don't give a shit or is it because some people will view a game and crit it for purely surface level assumptions with no nuance or understanding? Criticize it for lifting game elements from more than just pokemon, criticize it's CEO for being a regular ol' shitty CEO, criticize it's terrible official servers and buggy 'mon AI, but by all means do NOT spread false information and slander-ish claims against it jfc

#lizard fucking RANTs bro #palworld

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sungbeam · 6 months

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𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐒 — part two (viii – xv)

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

▷ genre, warnings. strangers 2 reluctant allies/friends 2 lovers, slow burn, demon/supernatural creatures au, angst, action, murder mystery-ish au, forced proximity trope, suspense, gore, depictions of violence and blood, themes of death and grief, use/description of weaponry, swearing, a slightly unreliable narrator bc she has no idea what's happening, reader's sister is dead, humor bc coping mechanisms, almost drowning, drugged drinks, kidnapping, reader has hair long enough to braid sorry, beheading, mentions of skinning someone, blood drinking, the barest of proofreading and editing, ending might feel super rushed (_ _;)

▷ part word count. 25.1k words / 47.4k - read part one here

a/n: hi again 🧍🏻‍♀️ don't try to read this without the part prior. thanks bye!! don't forget to reblog. also big thanks to @justalildumpling for reading all this thru for me :') one of the biggest reasons why this exists finished.

#8—HELL'S FAVORITE ANGEL.

SOMETHING YOU NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT, funnily enough, was what the Hell did Ji Changmin keep in the trunk of his car?

At one point, you'd mused about a body. And then the musing became too real, and you swept it under the proverbial rug. Now, you had to lift the corner of the rug to let the demon crawl back out. You weren't sure if you were going to grimace or scream.

"I fear this won't just be dirty gym socks in the trunk," you muttered while trailing behind the angel and demon with a frown.

Jacob let out a laugh. "Oh, you'll see. It's a lot cooler than dirty gym socks."

That sparked your interest. "Cooler? Can Changmin even be that?"

Changmin whipped an unappreciative scowl over his shoulder at you to the melody of Jacob's second laugh within thirty seconds. "For your information," he drawled with a huff, "Hell is cooler than Heaven."

"Okay, which part of Hell are we talking about?" Jacob snorted. "Do you still have my blade?"

"Oh, yeah. The human has it."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, so I'm 'the Human' now? And what do you mean I have—" You stopped short and unsheathed Clyde from your pocket. "You mean Clyde?" You gawked at the switchblade in your hand, then at the angel who peered curiously between you, the blade, and Changmin. The lines between dots were materializing in your horizon. "Wait, so when Changmin said he won this in a poker game?—"

"Yes, that's Jacob's blade," Changmin finished with a rather smug gleam in his eyes.

Jacob tilted his head. "You named it Clyde?"

You pursed your lips slightly, your fingers curling around the weapon. "Yes."

"That's cute."

You smiled. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

Changmin made a noise of indignation and marched onward across the town square to his car.

You and Jacob fell into step beside one another as you followed after the tempestuous hellspawn.

Clyde, in your hands, seemed to warm at the presence of his original owner. You chewed on the inside of your cheek before extending the switchblade out to him. "I think this belongs to you."

Jacob shook his head. "No, no. He won it fair and square, and I see he's given it to you. It's no longer his to bargain."

"What do you mean by that?" You asked.

He chuckled, "Ah, well you see—back when he won the poker game, I was salty enough to challenge him to a sparring match to win the angel blade back from him, but we had to put it on hold for reasons."

"So what's gonna be put up for grabs from the sparring match now?"

He pointed to the trunk of Changmin's car. "You're gonna love this."

Practically jogging over to where Changmin was already stationed behind the trunk of his car, Jacob hurried you along. The lid of the trunk rose unceremoniously as you rounded the back end and you found only a long, black case spanning the width of it.

You made a face. "What is it?" You asked, silently thanking whoever was looking after you for not putting a dead body in the back.

Changmin stood between you and Jacob, seemingly reluctant to lean down and unlock the case.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of what laid inside.

There was a long, slim blade made of a metal similar in looks to obsidian, but you highly doubted Changmin would covet a mortal mineral like this. It seemed to hum, in fact, something you knew no human material could do on its own. There was something about its surface that made it wink in purples and blues.

Changmin gently pried the sword out from its molding and held it by the handle. When it was brought to the light, shadows seemed to swirl and curl around the length like creeping vines up a trellis. "The Bonnie to your Clyde," he said lowly, fondly, even as he brushed the pads of his fingers over the flat side over the foreign characters carved into the material.

"You know what an angel blade is, Yn. Now you've seen a demon blade," Jacob said with a wide grin splitting his face in awe.

You couldn't help but share that sentiment. Thus was cool as fuck. "You're telling me you had a demon blade back here this whole time?" Where was this when you'd almost gotten murdered on a motel bedroom floor?

Changmin was just as careful returning the blade back to its case as he had been taking it out. "Yes, and it's gonna stay back here."

Jacob gave a sprite-like giggle. "Wah, your audacity is appalling. It's just gonna make kicking your butt even more fun."

Well, this should be interesting.

The rules of the match were simple.

"No claws or teeth," said Jacob.

"No wings," Changmin shot back.

It looked like Jacob was about to stick his tongue out at his opponent just then. "No tail!"

From your perch at a safe distance away from the two of them on the inn porch, you called out, "You have a tail?"

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Changmin almost seemed bashful. "In my demon form," he stammered. "Okay, so no supernatural appendages."

"And no out of realm abilities," Jacob added. "Just plain and simple fisticuffs."

With a large majority of the pack members having cleared out go down to Moonstone Creak, it left the entirety of town center for a showdown between an angel and a demon. The atmosphere reminded you of an old Midwest duel with a pistol per man, and ten-paces-fire mentality. Part of you was sorry you weren't going to see their non-mortal forms, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized that was probably a good thing to keep your dreams clear at night.

You weren't sure what to expect from this.

"Best out of three?" Changmin drawled, shaking the hair out of his eyes.

Jacob brushed his own mane back. "Sure. It won't make much of a difference anyways. Count us off, would you please, Yn-ah?"

You straightened at the sound of your name. "Uhm—yeah, okay. How will each round end?"

"With Jacob's back on the ground."

Jacob's eyebrows flew up, and his smile grew teeth. "Oh, hoo! I see we like talking smack with an audience around. Okay, fine." To you, he said while pushing up the sleeves of his shirt, "Each round ends when the other yields."

You nodded warily. "Okay… ready then?"

The hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stood erect as both of them sunk into position, their facial expressions morphing into twin slates of stone. While they were different creatures, they seemed to share the same predatorial sharpness in their eyes.

You swallowed. "Set—begin."

You were certain that they both agreed to prohibit the use of "out of realm abilities," but the ground rumbled when they pounced at each other. It was fascinating, really, how well they both performed hand to hand combat. Each hit seemed to be just as calculated as the next—one predicting the other's moves.

A complicated dance played out before your eyes and you sat on the porch steps too enraptured—or too nervous—to move. Changmin twisted Jacob's arm behind his back, but the angel was swift to counter and slip out.

You had never seen so much power behind an uppercut; never seen any human force their opponent back so hard that dust kicked up when his heels dug into the ground.

You weren't sure how or when it would end—

Changmin swore as Jacob grappled onto his forearm from behind and swung the demon over his shoulder.

You thought it was over.

Changmin's feet hit the ground though, and on they went.

It was during this drawn-out match that you realized there was probably only one way to really beat an equally matched opponent. They were trying to tire the other one out.

Lost in thought, you all but missed it—the maneuver that Changmin used to suddenly have Jacob pinned to the ground, knees digging into the latter's neck.

"Yield," the demon grunted.

There was a flash of movement, and Changmin swiftly released Jacob from his hold.

He locked eyes with you. "He yielded."

"I didn't think you would let him go if he hadn't," you replied, your thumb running over the butt of the angel blade.

Jacob laid on his back with his face to the sky. "Dude, I think we're finally getting the hang of these mortal bodies."

Changmin smiled, shaking his head, "Yeah, and after how long?" He offered his friend a hand and hauled him to his feet. "I remember when you almost jumped out of a tree and forgot you couldn't just sprout wings."

"Listen," Jacob lamented with a wince, "that was one time. And you said we were racing, and my instinct was to fly."

"Born cheater."

"Born hater."

You raised your hand from the sidelines. "So, one to nil. Shall we continue, boys?"

It seemed once you'd reminded them of their purpose for roughing it in the town square, they were back to focus. This time, both were a little out of breath. You guessed that they were pretty damn close to evenly matched then—there was a balance to the pair with Jacob having grander, stronger movements, and Changmin doling out smaller, agiler maneuvers. They were two sides of the same coin, angel and demon.

The second round always generated a heightened bout of tension compared to the first. For the winner of the prior round, this could be his game point of the match; to the loser, it was his opportunity to get even.

You watched their stances steel over, the backs of their heels firmly on the earth. "Ready—begin."

It started off similar to the first time, Intl a little more calculated. With the stakes rising, it was crucial to make the right hits.

Changmin struck first—he had less to lose. An attempted double kick to the stomach ended with his foot caught in Jacob's grasp. The angel twisted; the demon tumbled, taking his foe to the dirt with him.

On they went, and at times, you couldn't even decide who had the upper hand.

From somewhere to your left, you heard the wood on the porch creak. You turned to find Kevin hopping over the railing and making his way over to you, a blue-colored bandana hanging from his fingers. He offered you a smile. "Hey."

"Hey," you said, scooting over to make room for him on the step. "I thought you were heading the search party?"

"Yeah, I still am," he replied. He wasn't even paying much attention to the duo brawling out in the square, just you. "We were about to leave when I realized that my entire party doesn't know what the pendant smelled like, so I was wondering if I could just clean your pendant off with this to carry the scent?" He gestured with the piece of fabric in his hand. "That way, you won't have to be uncomfortable with a bunch of people coming to smell your necklace," he reasoned while cupping the back of his neck.

"Oh, that's a novel idea."

From out in the dirt and sun, Changmin's eyes caught the two of you on the steps of the inn and got half his face rightly smashed into the ground. It was only a split second, but even a split second was mistake enough.

Jacob pressed him down with his entire body weight, and leaned in close with a grin, "Yield, little Hellspawn."

Changmin groaned, but yielded.

As he had done for Jacob, the angel yanked him up off the ground, spitting dirt out from his mouth and wiping it from his eyes.

"Sorry," Jacob said, not very apologetically.

Changmin grimaced as he stumbled over to the fountain at town center and dunked his face in. He furiously scrubbed the dirt off his face and rinsed his mouth. Yuck.

He pulled himself out of the water, refreshed. Brushing his dampened hair back, he blinked the water out of his eyes to see if Kevin had left yet. He hadn't, actually, and still sat next to you. Something he said made you laugh, but then he was leaving, your gaze following—Changmin noticed the slowness in Kevin's gait, how reluctant he was to leave.

"Hmm, didn't think you'd ever eat dirt again after all these years, but I guess there will always be exceptions," Jacob mused. He stretched out his calves and arms, keeping his muscles alive and perked up for the final round. It was one to one after all.

"I was distracted," Changmin said simply. "He wasn't supposed to be here."

Jacob hadn't been blind to Kevin's presence at the inn steps either. His smile turned sly. "Now why would Kevin being here distract you? Curious, curious."

Changmin raised the collar of his shirt up to dry his face as the two of them strolled back to their sparring ground.

You were currently sending him a look with your head tilted to the side in question. Did he dump you in the fountain? You seemed to ask.

He shook his head, making a motion with his hands about how Jacob won the match. To his opponent, he murmured, "She's getting attached."

"And that's a bad thing?"

His automatic thought was no, you getting attached to these people, this place, was not a bad thing. He remembered your state of being back at the college town and how alone you'd been there. Here, it seemed you had people who would care about you, at least. With so much time spent in the mortal realm, he'd learned just how much humans needed each other.

But then again, you and he had a job to finish. "We have to leave soon."

Jacob adjusted the sleeves of his shirt once again since they fell at some point during the match. "Doesn't mean you can't come back."

He wasn't wrong. You seemed, upon reflection, content here. He passed you a glance, but you took that as a signal to start the match.

Changmin and Jacob dropped into their respective stances and charged when given the word.

As soon as Jacob's back hit the ground, you knew it was over. The last round drew out much longer than the preceding ones, and though they both fought fiercely, it was done with exhaustion sewn between each huffing breath, each reeled punch. A fight like this wasn't worth wasting all that energy on, anyway.

"Bonnie stays with you for now, I suppose," Jacob chuckled as the two of them clasped each other's hands in a show of good sportsmanship. Sweat dripped from their bangs and down the slopes of their noses and sculpted jawlines.

Changmin shook his head, "The sword is permanently going to be called Bonnie, isn't it?"

"You did this to yourself, you know." You walked over to them, hands propped on either side of your hips.

"I did," he agreed with his lips pressed together. The dimple in his cheek still threw you off your rocker. "Well, since I have so much dirt in my hair now—"

"Hey! I have to go switch shirts because of you!" Jacob chortled, motioning to his own white T-shirt stained a dusty brown on his back and front, and more on his pants.

"Ah, you need to shower anyways," Changmin quipped back.

Jacob made a waving gesture over his shoulder as he headed back toward the pack house to take that shower. "Yeah, yeah. I can say the same thing about you, Ji."

While Jacob went in his own direction, you and Changmin trudged back over to the inn so he could clean himself up. You wondered how much he really did need to get cleaned up, since you noted no blood or bruises, but the latter wouldn't show up for another couple hours if there were any.

Wait, was that how demon bruising worked—?

"I can hear your mind racing, Yn," Changmin drawled as he hiked up the stairs next to you.

"Not literally, right? I just have to make sure," you added on at the end when he looked over at you.

He absentmindedly scratched his jaw. "No, not literally. You're just easy to read."

Your expression flattened. "Oh."

"Hm."

"Okay, well you owe me some answers." You amended, folding your arms over your chest, "A lot of them, actually."

The sigh that fell from his lips was a familiar one, and he turned his head over his shoulder to check that there wasn't anyone else around. There wouldn't have been since it was only the two of you staying here, and the auntie who ran the inn was somewhere downstairs. "Let's talk in my room."

"Your room?" You squabbled incredulously. To you, Changmin seemed like the type to like his privacy, especially when he got a room to himself. But you questioned no further and he made no additional comments as the two of you entered the space that was his bedroom.

The room itself was similar to yours, but flipped. The wall on the far left was his room shared with yours, his bed pressed up against the far right. The shutters in here remained closed and angled upward so the sunlight outside could peer through, but only at a faint glow. It was enough to get around, at least. The space was spotless, bed unslept in. The sheets were still tucked tightly into place and his backpack sat in the armchair in the corner.

"You didn't sleep?" You voiced aloud, shutting the door behind you while he made a beeline for his backpack. You knew sleep wasn't a demonic necessity, but even so, sleeping for leisure was still something he indulged in, right?

He dug through its contents for a spare shirt and pants to change into after his shower. "No, I went out last night."

Your head perked up from where you'd settled on the very foot of the bed. "Where?"

"The woods—where else?" As if that were obvious. "The circles of Hell are pretty much dark all the time anyway," he said while passing by you to get to the bathroom door. He dumped his clothing items onto the counter and you heard him rip the shower curtain open. "It was—it was just, you know, like exercise and shit. Nothing important."

You opened your mouth to say something, then closed it, losing your train of thought.

The bathroom door shut, but you could still hear the stream of water running behind it.

Did living like this make him uncomfortable? Was he used to moving from place to place, never making a permanent home?

"Changmin." You raised your voice so he could hear you from through the door and over the water.

A faint, "Yeah?"

"What you said, back there during the advising board meeting, when they asked if there was more of this pendant—" You fingered the stone again. There was no one here to gawk at it. "—you said that this wasn't the only one."

For a moment, he didn't answer, and you thought that perhaps he didn't hear you.

Then, "Your sister, she—she had the other half."

You peered down at the stone in your hand and watched its blood ruby surface pulse. If you were careful, you could just barely make out the duller edge versus the sharper one, no doubt where Sena's half would have been. It hadn't even occurred to you that this was only half the necklace, like a locket.

You asked him the next reasonable question. "Where is it?" It hadn't been in the lockbox, nor had it been on her person when she died or at the funeral. Did he have it?

"I'm not sure actually."

Those four words settled heavily over your shoulders. He didn't know. There had to be some connection with how she died then. Someone took it off her body—

"Is that—" The bathroom door opened. You hadn't even realized he finished and was dressed, "—what we're looking for then? You said we have to go to one of her safe houses to find the thing she messaged you about. Is that the thing? Is whoever was following us earlier—were they after my half?"

Changmin leaned against the bathroom door's frame, freshly rinsed off of dirt and grime and sweat, a new set of clothes on his body. He crossed his arms over his chest with a pensive gaze. "They probably were after your half, yes. I didn't really know what she wanted me to find, to be honest. I thought you would have her half, too, but when you only said you found one pendant in the lockbox, my mind shifted into believing she stashed hers in a safehouse somewhere."

That must have been why he reacted like he did that day… how he wanted you to be sure there wasn't anything else in the box.

He continued, "Sena was the one who poured over ancient texts and researched about this. I gave her context about supernatural things and was the muscle where need arose. She knew everything, and now I'm kind of kicking myself in the head for that." He massaged his jaw. "She mentioned something about an activator of sorts. I can't remember all the details, but it would be in one of her notebooks."

"We just have to find them," you murmured.

You and he locked eyes, and he nodded, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "Yeah."

You fiddled with a spare thread from the duvet cover by your hand. "And about the demons—you know, the lower level ones who have been popping up everywhere?"

"Those are easier beings to summon," he breathed out. "Anyone can summon them through a ritual and they'll do your bidding for the price of a sacrifice. Those are usually the ones people are calling upon with their… Ouija boards and pentagrams and shit." They seemed a lot more vicious than the ones that came with pentagrams, but you couldn't speak from experience.

You shuddered at the memory of those teeth engraved into your mind. If anyone could summon those kinds of demons, then it wouldn't necessarily be a demonic entity after your pendant. More details to consider, you supposed.

A thought occurred to him and you saw it come to the forefront of his mind like a lightbulb turning on. He disappeared back into the bathroom and returned with a little paper cup in his hand. He stirred something inside it with a wooden popsicle stick used for coffee and crafts.

"I, uhm…" He stepped toward you, apprehensively, with the paper cup. "I consulted the resident medic for some of that salve the wolves use for bruising. She didn't have anything on hand for humans, but she told me what herbs I could grab from the woods."

When he was close enough, you could see the greenish paste at the bottom of the cup. Your eyes widened in surprise, uncertain of what to do with all this information.

He stood in front of you, teeth biting down on his lip. "Can I see your neck?" His voice quieted at the end, and he cleared his throat.

You could feel your heart stutter in your chest. "Uhm, yeah. Sure." You carefully swept any stray pieces of hair from your neck and to the other side of your shoulder, tilting your head slightly to give him access to it. You didn't know exactly what this was going to do, but for some reason you trusted that it would help.

He took some of the paste onto the end of the popsicle stick and carefully dabbed it over the places where the demon teeth marks vandalized your skin. It was still purplish in some areas, darkened where the teeth had sunken in the deepest to pierce your esophagus. Shallower places had already begun to sallow, but clearly, it wasn't at a supernatural creature's pace by any means.

When he was finished he stepped back to inspect his handiwork. Neither of you had yet to say anything.

You let your hair fall back into place. "Thanks."

You couldn't read him again; you wish you could. "Yeah," he said.

#9—OUT OF REALM.

THE NIGHTS WERE WARM here in the little town of Moonstone Creak. The air was comfortable and settled so comfortably on your skin. No gooseflesh or raised hair or anything.

You sat on the front steps of the pack house to the sound of music being played in the square before you, and wondered if Sena had ever come across something like this in her travels. If she and Changmin had been business partners, so to speak, she must have come across a myriad of supernatural and divine beings.

A couple days had passed since you and Changmin first got here, and the wolves unfortunately were unable to find the source of your pursuers in the white car, who bore the same scent as the pendant around your neck. You almost forgot that was why you both were here in the first place.

A blur of fur flew past you as two wolf pups scrambled down the steps, one chasing the other's tail, in a game of tag. Seeing mothers hold their infant children between jaws of teeth was becoming less and less of a shock, and you found yourself smiling at the kids playing around in the square, beneath the hanging lanterns.

"This seat taken?" You glanced up to meet Kevin's boyish smile, a white dress shirt and board shorts hanging from his frame.

You welcomed him next to you with a smile. "Busy day?" You asked after having not seen him since he left breakfast this morning.

He gave a sigh, leaning back onto his palms. "A little, but it's always nice to take some of the younger ones out into the woods. It's how they build community and stamina."

The two of you peered out at the town center as those dancing around Lily and Sangyeon with their guitar and keyboard cheered to the end of the song. It was merry and vibrant and full of life; no wonder they lived in this pocket of the world—it was to preserve their serenity, and perhaps even their ways of life.

Kevin turned his head toward you. "What about you? How have you filled your day today?"

"Well," you started with a chuckle, "Haknyeon and Eric and I went down to the creak and they taught me how to snatch a fish out of the water with my bare hands."

His grin widened. "Oh, I see. So dinner tonight was on you?"

You snorted, shaking your head. "I would like to take credit for that massive hunk of salmon, but I could barely get my fish out of the water."

"It comes with practice," he assured you, eyes turned up in amusement. "Plus, Haknyeon and Eric have a bit of an advantage over you."

Ah, that was right. Wolf shifters were, for lack of better phrasing, “built different,” as you liked to say. They were stronger, faster, and more alert, with their five senses heightened to a scale you couldn’t put into words. You imagined that shifting between human and wolf forms took a lot of strength and energy, so it made sense in a way. There were also a few humans living among the wolves here besides yourself who either married into the community or simply moved in after visiting or doing business with the town’s inhabitants. You couldn’t blame them for that either. (A part of you, stewing in the back of your mind, humored the possibility of moving here yourself. It seemed almost too good to be true.)

You and Kevin watched as Jacob joined the fray with Eric in tow, the two of them starting a game of “Simon Says.” A thought occurred to you while you observed the angel; there was something distinctly absent from his silhouette. “Kevin?”

“Hm?”

“Why doesn’t Jacob have wings if he’s an angel?” For the entirety of your stay since you met him, he lacked the white-feathered wings characteristic of an angel. Of course, there was also a lack of halo, too, but you thought Jacob’s radiating warm personality was enough to make up for that loss.

Kevin straightened. “Oh, that’s an easy one—he’s in an energy-conserving form. That’s why you don’t see Changmin with the demon horns or tail and stuff. This human form is the base level of this realm, so it’s the most energy-conserving for them while they’re away from their native realms.”

You didn’t expect that your question would lead to a conversation about the mechanisms of the universe. You blinked, then shot him a look you expected told him exactly how you were feeling. “What?”

“Realms,” he repeated with a chuckle. “We have the mortal plane, which is where we are now; the Heavenly sphere, which is where the hierarchy of angels are; and then the circles of Hell.” He nudged your knee with the back of his hand and gestured for you both to move to the bottom step of the porch so he could draw you a diagram in the dirt. Kevin found a small rock lying by his feet and diagrammed the three realms.

“It looks like that,” he said once he was done. “Think of each as not levels, but more like separate rooms.”

You tilted your head at the drawing. “So Heaven and Hell really are just above and below us?”

“Not… exactly?” He winced. “More like pocket dimensions. That’s why energy conservation works how it does when it comes to bodily forms, rather than how humans usually explain it in physics.”

“Don’t expect me to know anything about that.”

He grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure this’ll make a lot more sense—there’s a whole lot less math involved. But then again, maybe human physics and this concept is more similar than I’m making it out to be.”

You lifted your shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I’d confirm or deny, but science was never really my area of expertise.”

“And what’s that? Your area of expertise,” he asked, dropping the rock back onto the ground and resting his cheek against his fist to turn his attention to you.

“Me? Well, I’m in finance and accounting.” You made a face at how human that sounded compared to the subject of your current conversation. Accounting did not measure up to talks of energy conservation and supernatural pocket dimensions. “It was just… kind of the practical route that I had in mind when going into college.” Practicality had driven so many of your decisions throughout your life. It was for the sake of keeping yours and your sister’s heads above water. Sena had never been afraid of chasing her dreams though, so you figured that you would support her and let her go out to do what she wished. But by the looks of where that got her, should you have done that? You didn’t really know.

Kevin bobbed his head. “Practicality is good,” he said softly. “You know, we just lost one of our bookkeepers in town. We could always use another.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest at the sentiment and you couldn’t ignore the tenderness of his gaze, but maybe you were making things up. Your heart pitter-pattered and the pendant at your collar echoed it. “Good to know.”

His lips curled into that pretty smile of his, and he sat up and waved his hand around. “But, uhm, going back to what we were talking about earlier… because Jacob and Changmin are both far away from their home realm, they need to exert a lot more energy to sustain a form that is less supported in this realm.”

You squinted, pursing your lips. “So like… a supernatural version of home court advantage?”

Now it was Kevin’s turn to pause. “Home court ad—I’m guessing that’s a human thing.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to worry about it,” you dismissed. To be fair, your high school had drilled the concept of home court advantage into your head in order to encourage more people to come to sports outings when your school was hosting. The phrase lived in your head because it was etched there. “Ah, so wait—if, let’s say, Changmin went to the Heavenly sphere…”

“If he had any reason to go there,” Kevin said with an ill-concealed grimace, “pray for him.”

That reply did nothing to reassure you. You swallowed, trying to imagine what would happen should Changmin find himself in Heaven, and if Jacob went to Hell. If this was their supported form one realm away… then what would it be two realms away?

“But don’t worry too much about it,” he added swiftly, “demons don’t usually find a reason to go to the sphere. And if there is a reason, they usually don’t stay long enough to find out how much energy it takes to maintain out of realm bodies.”

“Out of realm—I’ve heard that saying before when Changmin and Jacob were sparring a couple days ago. They both agreed not to use any out of realm abilities.”

He hummed cheerily, nodding. “Mmh, yeah. Out of realm usually just refers to the mortal plane here, and any form or abilities that aren’t ‘supported’ like flight or magic—”

“Magic?”

“That’s just what I’ve heard,” Kevin huffed a laugh. “I hope you never find yourself in any of the circles of Hell, Yn, but if you’re ever down there with Changmin, then ask him to turn a rock into a diamond necklace.”

Your eyebrows flew up to your hairline. “So you’re telling me he’s an alchemist?” You hadn’t even thought about what other things your demon counterpart was capable of besides attacking people and brooding.

“Not quite—”

“Alchemy isn’t really the word I would use to describe it,” came Changmin’s drawl from behind you.

You nearly fell backwards off the stairs if it hadn’t been for Kevin’s arm shooting out to grab your wrist. Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you shot Changmin a dirty look. “You—” you sputtered, trying to get your bearings, “—need to stop doing that!”

He quirked a single brow upward, quietly shoving another forkful of blueberry pancake into his mouth. “Not my fault you didn’t hear me coming.”

“I smelled you coming,” Kevin laughed, the sound brightening at the sound of your snort.

Changmin’s expression flattened. He swallowed his bite and impaled another. “Can I talk to you?” He directed the question to you, nudging you with the toe of his boot.

You and Kevin exchanged glances, but you hoisted yourself up from the porch steps, dusting any dirt from your pants. “Uh, sure. What about? Also, where did you get pancakes from at nine o’clock at night?”

The demon motioned with his chin to start walking in the direction of the inn across the square. “Lily had leftovers,” he said simply.

You hmphed and let it slide.

Since Changmin revealed to you that there was a second half to your pendant, you hadn't shared another long discussion pertaining to the real reason you were on this quest. He would often linger at the edges of crowds here, keeping to himself and the limited number of people he knew. He seemed to avoid interacting with most, and you wondered why that was. He wasn't… that scared of social interaction, was he?

Changmin leaned up against the wall of the inn and you perched across from him with your back to the porch railing. "I've been thinking."

"Is this a good thing?"

You raised your hands in innocence as he scowled at you. He sawed a chunk of pancake in half with the side of his fork before impaling it with the tines. "Sometimes you sound exactly like your sister."

"Sarcasm runs in Ln family blood, what can I say?" You mused. "So you were thinking."

He hummed. "Mmh. Well, I was thinking that—" he cleared his throat, his fingers brushing over his throat. "We've been here for a couple of days and nothing has seemed to crop up. There hasn't really been any immediate dangers and—" He wrinkled his nose, apparently annoyed at something.

You sobered a little. "What is it?"

He knocked the back of his fork against his skull. "You look—happy here. And safe, of course. You're safe here," he finally pushed out. His jaw worked as he speared his last piece of pancake and shoved it into his mouth.

Your eyes widened slightly. You didn't realize he was monitoring your mood like that, but you could agree that you definitely felt safer here than out there. "I… agree?" However, you still didn't know what direction this conversation was heading.

Changmin sighed, his brows creasing in frustration. "Yes, you agree. So, I think the best decision is that I leave you here and I go out and find the second half of the necklace."

What.

"Changmin, you—"

"Just hear me out," he said. "We've already been attacked twice because of that thing, and if we step foot out of these bounds, it's liable to happen again." He wrestled down a swallow. "You're just—better off here."

You idly rubbed the pendant over the fabric of your shirt. "You're serious."

"When am I not serious?"

Did he not trust his ability to keep an eye on you? Or no, it had to be you that was the problem. If you could fend for yourself, he wouldn't have to worry about being attacked all the damn time. His logic had grounds, and though you could breathe easy here, for some reason, letting him go after the second half didn't sit right with you.

You chewed on your bottom lip. "I think we should—"

The world stilled, the music screeched to a halt. The night air filled with the chilling sound of a howl.

You instinctively leaned away from the railing and came to stand beside Changmin, scanning the immediate premises for danger. The hair on your skin stood on its end, heartbeat quickening—

From the far end of town by the conventional entrance, a dark-furred wolf, followed by two others, charged in. You recognized the one at the front as Juyeon from the advising board.

The town center cleared; Lily was already corralling little ones into the pack house, her head on a swivel between Sangyeon and the wolves barreling back into town from the night watch. Kevin and Jacob were swift to join them.

Changmin's expression turned troubled. "Stay here."

"I'll hold your plate," you murmured, taking the plate and fork from him and backing up toward the entrance to the inn. The auntie who owned the establishment appeared at your side, ushering you in so she could lock the doors. This had to be some kind of protocol.

You set the plate and fork on the table in the parlor and pressed your face up against the window to watch the congregation at the town's entrance. From this distance, your sight wasn't nearly good enough to make out their individual expressions, but it didn't look good.

"Auntie?" You asked, fumbling for Clyde in your pocket. "What's going on?"

She peered over from where she was twisting lanterns to the off position. "Intruders," she answered.

You leapt out of your skin when the inn's front door handle was forced open.

Changmin and Kevin's heads whirled about the room until they found you. "We're leaving," Changmin said, already charging toward the stairs. "Pack your things; Kevin's leading us out."

You scrambled after him in the dark. "Changmin. Changmin what the fuck is happening—"

He threw a stern look over his shoulder. "I'll explain in the car," he said before disappearing into his room.

You tossed your hands up into the air and did as you were told. There wasn't much to pack for yourself. You tossed your clothes haphazardly into your backpack, located any other spare items you left in the room, checked the bathroom for anything else. By the time you were done, Changmin was slapping his palm against the door jamb and hustling you out.

Kevin waited for you both in the lobby, his wolf form anxiously pacing the area like he was itching to get out of here. You could hear snarling and hissing and crashes and crackling from outside the door. What were you going to see when you stepped foot out of the inn?

"Let's go," Changmin said, nodding to Kevin, and shoving out into the night.

You lost your breath.

The pack house was on fire.

Wolves brawled against demonic forms, teeth gnashing around necks and snapping them. Black and red blood stained the dirt—they had come for the pendent. And they would take the pack down with them if they had to.

"Yn." A hand hauled you down the porch steps to round the building to Changmin's car.

Horror and panic and everything in between poured into you as you threw yourself into the front seat of Changmin's car. Your eyes, wide as saucers, could not leave the sight of violence happening before you.

You blinked—dark, whirling masses in the sky appeared out of thin air, and out of them spilled more and more creatures of Hell. Their jaws of daggers made you sick to your stomach; what was this? A small army?

Changmin swerved the car after Kevin, who was leading you not through the fray, but behind the inn house and straight into the woods.

You twisted in your seat. "Are they going to be okay?" You whispered, hands shaking as they dropped onto the headrest.

He was quiet for a beat. "They have Jacob."

But was one divine being enough? There were so many of them, oh fuck. And Jacob wasn't at full power, was he?

"They'll—they'll leave when they sense we're no longer there," he added quietly. "I hope."

You hugged the back of your seat, murmuring prayer after prayer. Please be safe. Please be okay.

The road Kevin led you both down was twisted and hazardous with winding paths that sent your shoulder careening into the side of the car and bumps that jostled your organs. Changmin somehow was able to keep up with Kevin without the headlights on and you didn't have the mind to question it.

You sunk into your seat to face forward, eyes glued to the side view mirror. You could see the glow of flames from here, could see how far up into the sky the fire went.

Oh god, this is all your fault. You brought trouble right to their doorstep. It's all your fault. All your—

The car broke out of the woods and into a small clearing with a worn path that led up to another road that hugged the side of a small mountain. This was where Kevin stopped.

Changmin nodded to Kevin in the front windshield.

You jammed your finger against the button in your door to roll your window down. "Kevin," you said.

The wolf trotted over to your door, and you stuck your hand out to meet his head. Your chest ached. "I'm sorry."

He couldn't communicate with you in a way you understood, but you liked to think you got good at reading his eyes. They seemed conflicted—the way they glistened like moonlight with the silver lining the edges, but burned like molten gold when he turned to motion toward the smoke in the distance.

"I'm sorry," you repeated. "Stay safe."

With one last look, he took off back toward his home.

Changmin passed you a glance, eyes softening at the corners, then turned the car up onto the road.

You pulled yourself back into the car and rolled the window up once you couldn't see Kevin's form anymore. Your eyes stared at the front console, brain muddled—you focused on taking deep breaths.

"Are they going to be okay?" You asked again. He had given you an answer before, but—fucking Hell, you were going to be sick—

"They'll be okay," he assured you. One of his hands lifted from the steering wheel and rested on your shoulder.

You broke down, face burying itself into your palms. Sobbing filled the silence of the car with the weight of lead. First, there was Sena. Then, it was whatever the fuck you were doing on this ridiculous task. Now… now, you'd gotten bystanders involved. Good people. They were good people.

You couldn't lose anyone else.

One person was more than you could take—more than you thought you could take.

You lifted your head, dragging the back of your hand across your eyes, your palm over your cheeks. "I want to go home," you whimpered as the back of your head hit the headrest. He had spoken too soon—you weren’t safe anywhere.

His hand was still on your shoulder and it slid down to your forearm, his fingers curling around you in a tentative form of comfort. "I know, sweetheart," he murmured. "I know."

#10—HOLD YOUR BREATH.

"PULL OVER, CHANGMIN."

The demon's head whipped over to you for a second, taking his eyes off the barren highway. There wasn't anyone else around this early in the morning, especially on this road that hugged the coast rather than a more straightforward freeway like the main interstate. "What?"

"Pull over," you repeated.

"We're almost there."

"Please."

He stopped the car.

He just barely put the vehicle in park before you were clambering out and headed in who-knew-what direction.

You heard the driver's side door slam shut as he followed after you. "Yn. Yn, where the Hell do you think you're going?"

"I don't know," you said, wrapping your arms around you. The salty sea air brushed past your clothes and your skin, and it felt nothing like the warmth from Moonstone Creak. The sky before dawn was a white-ish purple with clouds blanketing out where one might see the sun creeping up to its perch. The two of you were on the road for nearly five hours, and you didn't sleep a wink of it.

He caught up with you and grabbed your shoulders to face him. "I know that was a lot of shit to take, but we can't be out here."

"I can't do this anymore," you told him. "I can't risk any more lives, I can't risk mine or yours—I don't want to end up dead in a ditch. I—" You yanked the necklace around your collar and unclasped the chain, the weight falling from your sternum feeling more akin to an empty cage than a freed one.

You ripped out of his hold and stormed across the highway.

"No, no, no—YN. Yn, let's talk about this—"

You were getting rid of all your problems. If they wanted the pendant, then they could fucking have it—

Changmin appeared in front of you, expression stormy. "Don't do it."

"Get out of my way."

"If you lose that necklace, Yn—"

"THEN WHAT?" You practically growled in his face. Your hand fisted around the stone in your palm, and you waved it around wildly. "If I lose it, then what? Changmin, I don't even know what the fuck it does. You haven't told me why it's important. My sister sure as Hell didn't tell me jackshit. What, in the name of all things fucking holy, is so important about this red rock! Why am I risking my life for it?"

Changmin balked and his lips pressed firmly against each other.

Disappointment churned in your stomach. "Why won't you tell me?" You asked him, dropping the stone to hold it by the chain.

His eyes flickered to your movements. "I'll tell you, but just—we can't talk about it out here." He turned slightly and pointed out a building in the distance. It was a lighthouse, and it was erected on the edge of a rocky outcropping that jutted out from the coastline. White-foamed waves crashed against its shore like drums. "You see that? That's the safehouse."

That was the safehouse? "She bought a lighthouse?" Oh dear god, she had not listened to any of your advice about investing.

"Yes," he said. "Don't ask me why. I don't know the answer to that one, but if we can just get over there…"

You eyed the building. It was a standard cylindrical-shaped tower painted in white with a large glass cap at the top, housing a spotlight to guide ships home. A second, much smaller building the size of a shed was attached to the base, and you could just make out what looked like a chimney on top. Against your boring financial advice, Sena had been a romantic at heart. You wouldn't be surprised if one of her other safehouses was an idyllic cottage in a meadow.

You swallowed your pride, reaching up to reluctantly clasp the necklace back around your throat. Changmin visibly relaxed. "Fine."

The two of you made to turn around and head back to the car, but something in the water below caught your eye. It was a long way down from where you stood, and the jagged, dark cliff face didn't make the drop any more appetizing. The water was a deep, murky shade of gray-blue that screamed a cold, watery grave. You squinted down at the water in search of the glint of something you thought you saw.

Changmin glanced back at you. "What is it?"

When you came up empty-handed, you followed him to the car. "Nothing. I think I'm just tired."

The car was still quiet when Changmin pulled up outside the lighthouse. The building sat on the lower end of the outcropping, surrounded by a field of overgrown grass watered by sea spray and rain. The thrashing of waves was much louder here, like rolling thunder, and they threw themselves up against the shore bedecked in dark rocks, eroded into rough edges to make them appear akin to teeth.

You grabbed your backpack from the backseat as usual, eyes peering up at the lighthouse and trying to drink it in.

So… this was where she had been hiding. At least, some of the time she was away.

Your fingers drummed along your bag strap. What were you going to find inside? The last time you opened one of Sena's locked things, you ended up on the run.

Changmin's hair whipped up in the wind. "I think I can pick the lock," he said.

"She didn't give you a key?"

He began making his way to the front door. "I've only been here a couple of times, but only when she was around. Sena only had one—copy." When he jiggled the doorknob and it drifted open, he stiffened.

You frowned. "Awful lock."

"It wasn't locked," he said. He put his arm out in front of you. "Stay behind me."

That feeling you knew all-too-well—like a spider crawling down your spine—returned. You shoved your hand into the pocket that held your angel blade, slowly creeping in after Changmin.

The first floor of the lighthouse looked as if a tornado blew right through it. The couch cushions were torn off their perches, the rug was thrown aside, the bookshelf devoid of its occupants who lied scattered about the room. You took it all in with wide eyes, gently trekking through on the balls of your feet like you were going through a minefield. The connecting shed was for the kitchen and dining needs, and that too did not look much better. All of the porcelain plates and cups and silverware were in pieces on the stone floors.

Changmin blew out a breath, hands burying into his hair as his eyes wildly searched the area for any signs of who had been here for you. "Shit."

You made your way over to the couch-side table where a small lamp was undressed of its shade and a picture frame left cracked and picture-less. But you recognized the shoddy paint job on the frame from your childhood when you'd painted it in an arts and crafts class in first grade. You felt the picture's loss like an empty void. Whoever had been here took it with them.

Failure burned through you like hot acid. It made your body scream as it incinerated you from the inside out; you would never figure out what your sister was doing or what was going on. Not at this rate.

You set the empty frame down and brushed past Changmin to the front door.

"Yn—"

"I need some air." You didn't wait for his response.

The sun was making a gradual ascent now, turning the sky above you a more aggressive shade of lilac and egg yolk. You rounded the circumference of the lighthouse until you were descending the hill at its back down to the dock. It was a short, wooden platform where you could sit down and breathe in ocean air for a moment.

You lowered yourself by the edge with your feet crossed beneath you upon the sun-soaked planks. In the distance, you heard the cry of a seagull as it made landfall.

For all of the noise the waves made, it was awfully quiet. Disturbingly quiet.

It didn't occur to you right away. You were more focused on the hot tears trailing down your cheeks and the pressure building up in your head to start a killer headache. Goddamn, what were you doing? What did you think you were going to accomplish?

You yanked the chain out of your shirt collar with an angry frown marring your face. "Stupid fucking necklace." This was all its fault—and there you were, blaming an inanimate object for all your troubles.

"What if I just tossed you into the ocean?" You gazed out at the infinite horizon. It would be so easy. Would it not solve all of your problems?

You sighed, rubbing the space between your eyes with the pads of your fingers.

For a moment, you soaked in the air around you, the warmth of the boards beneath your thighs, and the sweet song drifting through your ear. What a beautiful sound the ocean made… it crooned something melancholy to you, luring you closer toward it in wonder. How sad the ocean was… its loneliness resonated with yours… it sang it so in the song.

You were enchanted by it, scooting closer to the edge of the pier to see if you could figure out the source of the serenade.

It's the ocean, something told you. It wasn't coming from a person or a thing, but the entire body of water before you. It heard your pain, could feel your suffering… it wanted you to come into its arms so it could lovingly embrace you.

"Yn. YN? YN!"

The song coaxed you closer to the edge. Almost there, love.

Your legs dangled over the side, eyes glazed over and glassy. The dark waters beneath you were so lovely and lonely. You could keep it company, couldn't you?

"YN, SNAP OUT OF IT."

Don't listen to him. He doesn't understand your pain. But I do.

You murmured. "Who does?"

Come a little closer, pet. I can make the hurt go away.

Thunderous stomps down the hill became muffled in the background. "YN. LN. WAKE. UP."

For a moment, your eyes shuddered. His voice was familiar. You turned your head back to look, and saw Changmin charging toward you with his eyes wide and—

Look at me, the voice demanded.

Something wrapped around your ankle, and you had little time to understand what was happening before you were dragged straight under.

As soon as the water swallowed you, the cold seeped into your bones and snapped you out of whatever trance you had been put under. Panic seized your chest, and you thrashed around, holding your breath, in a desperate attempt to free whatever had your leg trapped in a death grip.

You screamed silently, the surface getting farther and farther away.

You desperately kicked out with your other leg, the sole of your shoes scratching and scraping and chipping away at the hand holding you. You fumbled in your pants pocket, then brandished Clyde. With as much might as you could muster, you stabbed at the appendage wrapped around your ankle.

When you made contact, it retreated instantly. There was a trail of something dark down below, but you couldn't quite tell between it and the bottom of the water.

Running out of air fast, you desperately pumped your legs and clawed your way up towards Changmin swimming toward you. He extended his hand to you, his eyes flickering between you and something behind you—you didn't have time to think about what it was.

Your fingers made purchase with his, and you grabbed onto each other with a mutual vice. He hauled you up to the surface before him, and you gasped for breath, arms bracing onto the wooden deck.

You hacked out sea water and your throat felt like it was closing in on itself. It burned like Hell.

Heart pounding, you lifted your head to find Changmin and—wait. Where was Changmin?

"Changmin?" You whipped your head around, eyes going down into the water. "Fuck."

You gagged from sea water again. Could you stomach going back down? You had to, for fuck's sake. Your demon was down there.

You wielded Clyde tightly in your other hand, took a deep breath, then went back under.

You could now make out the figure who you assumed held you captive earlier. He had Changmin wrapped tightly in his grasp, the demon thrashing in the half-man half-fish's arms. You knew you were probably staring death in the eye, but you continued swimming straight for them.

You and the fish man made eye contact, and he grinned menacingly, the smile tinged with a set of sharp canines. In any other circumstance, you would have thought him beautiful.

Changmin saw you coming and his eyes widened. I just saved you. What are you doing back here?

But he realized something key with your presence reappearing. Changmin's jaw clenched—you didn't realize what was happening until he threw his arms back behind him to grab ahold of his captor's head. His fingers had grown darkened claws, razor sharp, and he gouged his thumbs into the eyes of the siren.

If you could hear screams underwater, it would have rattled your bones.

You watched, frozen, as the siren attempted to thrash around an escape Changmin, but your demon counterpart had too good of a grip on his skull.

You knew what the dark trail was now, and there was so much of it pooling in the water.

When Changmin was satisfied with the limpness of his captor's body, he shook his hands out and the claws disappeared. You didn't know where they went—didn't care, only that they existed in the first place.

He urgently swam up toward you as both of your supply of oxygen dwindled with each passing second.

When you broke the surface a second time, you clung to one of the posts of the dock, body shaking from the icy cold and the chill of witnessing a piece of Changmin's violence first-hand.

Changmin gasped for air and threw his upper body onto the face of the dock, his muscles trembling as he struggled to pull himself out of the water. Both of you were soaked to the bone, clothing and shoes heavy with seawater.

You stuck Clyde into the wood of the pier above you to anchor yourself onto the boards.

The two of you laid there on the dock to regain your breath and strength. Despite Changmin's demon-ness, he was still a creature of land, not water.

The sun had managed to climb up into the sky now, its hot rays piercing through clouds, and yet, all you could feel was the wind.

"You should have stayed…" he managed to say, "...up here."

You rolled into your stomach and braced your palms onto the wood to push yourself up. "You're stupid if you thought I was gonna—let you die." You glanced over at him, eyes finding his fingers—they looked normal again, save for the dark red rimmed beneath his fingernails.

You shuddered.

Changmin squinted his eyes open at you. "Don't ever… do that again."

You could only nod.

For a moment, only the waves and gulls existed between you. You hunched over your legs, dry heaving any more of that stinging salt from your mouth and eyes. Your brain kept rewinding the struggle over and over, repeating the look of pure survival instinct in Changmin's eyes as he mercilessly drove his clawed fingers into the creature's eye sockets.

You heard him stir again, and you asked hoarsely, "How much energy did it take to summon claws?"

After a beat, he replied, "Let's just say, I'm rusty and winded."

You turned your body over so you could face him. His white shirt was drenched all the way through, but you could still see the dark red seeping in places over his ribcage. "Oh my god, you're bleeding."

You reached out to examine him, but he slapped your hand away. "I'm fine," he insisted.

"Let me see," you argued, fixing him with a hard look. When he relented, you gently peeled the fabric away from his skin.

His skin, pale and wet, looked like a watercolor canvas of blues, reds, and purples. Bruises bloomed in splotches and blood made up the rest. You delicately ran your fingers over the bruised areas, hearing him suck in a breath at your touch.

"Does it hurt?"

"I'll survive."

"Don't be an ass. Does it hurt?"

He lifted his arm over his eyes. The scratches there were still an angry red. "...Yes."

"Did he get you anywhere else?"

"No."

Relief soared through you—or, the dispelling of fear from your body—and you racked your brain for a solution. There was nothing you could use down here to heal him to get him up to the…

Who were you kidding? There was something.

You wrenched Clyde out from the board you'd impaled him into and held the sharp end against the plush pad of your thumb. How much human blood did he need to get back on his feet? How much would get him up to the lighthouse, and how much could heal him fully like at the motel—?

He lifted his arm off his eyes. "Don't even think about it."

You met his eyes. "And why not?" Once, a long time ago, you managed to slice your finger open from cutting a lime in your palm rather than against a board like a normal person. If you used just enough force to break the skin—

"I'm not—drinking your blood—" He grunted while attempting to sit up. The stubborn bastard fell onto his back, face screwed up in pain and frustration.

You leaned over him to block the sun from his eyes. "You were saying?"

He narrowed his eyes up at you. "I'm not drinking your blood."

"You've done it before."

"That's because you were dying. You're not dying now, and neither am I."

"Your ribs are broken, aren't they?"

He huffed air out of his nostrils. "Yeah."

Returning to your original plan, you pressed the blade back against your thumb, wincing slightly as it split your skin. Dark red welled into a little pocket, before breaking form and dribbling down your finger. You moved it in front of his mouth, waiting to feel his tongue against it.

Reluctantly, he stuck his tongue out and licked a neat stripe up the length of your finger, all while giving you a stink eye. This isn't my choice, he seemed to say. It didn't matter though. He knew that he needed this, even just a little bit, to get up to the lighthouse and the car.

There could be more sirens, after all.

You pulled your finger away already feeling your skin cells knit themselves back together from his saliva. "Better?"

He licked his lips. "I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

"Asshole."

"Human."

You snorted, clambering to your knees, and then your feet. You lifted pressure off of your right leg where your ankle ached from being anchored onto. "You say that like it's an insult."

He raised a brow at you, clasping onto your forearm when you offered it. "Take it as you will," he said with a half grunt as you used gravity and momentum to pull his body up.

You threw his arm over your shoulders to begin the trek up the hill. Trying to avoid putting weight on your right foot was a little difficult, but you were determined. Your joints and chest ached and your socks squelched grossly in your shoes.

"Your ankle," he started.

"I'll survive," you repeated his words from earlier. "It's nothing compared to broken ribs." The thought occurred to you that if the siren could break Changmin's ribs with his arms, then… he could have easily shattered the bones in your ankle.

A shiver slithered down your spine. You were thanking every divine being who existed for keeping your ankle intact.

"You know I'm not letting you drive, right?"

He let out a noise of indignation. "I can drive, Yn."

"You're not driving."

You could feel his eyes roll. "Whatever."

#11—THE DRIVER'S SEAT.

IT WAS A MIRACLE THAT both you and Changmin fit into your sister's clothes. There was a decent stash of clothing left in the second floor wardrobe of the lighthouse, and you both dressed in relaxed pants and t-shirts as you recuperated. Once you were cleaned up, for the most part, it was back to the car.

Changmin watched with a pained look on his face as you settled into the driver's seat and began adjusting everything for your personal preference.

"Are you going to seatbelt or should I do that for you?" You asked as you finished checking the side mirrors.

He slowly buckled himself in. "I hope you know how much I despise this."

"You despise a lot of things."

"I can drive, Yn."

"Okay, yeah. I almost died for the third time five hours ago. I don't want to risk my life a fourth time." You shoved the keys into the ignition and twisted the engine to life. Leaning back in the seat, you put the car into reverse to begin taking the vehicle up the road to the mainland. "You said to get onto the interstate and keep following until—"

"Deer Ridge—can you be careful," he hissed, eyes slicing toward your movements, before gritting his teeth at his swollen ribs.

You swatted his micromanaging away. "I am so surprised you have never made this much of a fuss about your car before."

He brooded, eyes never leaving your hands on the wheel. "I should've learned stick shift."

You rolled your eyes. "You're such a baby."

Because the lighthouse was of no use and not safe, you were going to drive yourself and Changmin to the next closest safehouse. It was another five hour drive, give or take a needed food stop at some point because you hadn't eaten since dinner at Moonstone Creak. You were afraid Changmin would use that against you at some point so he could be in the driver's seat again. Stubborn brat.

If he wouldn't drink your blood to rejuvenate, if he wouldn't let you drive when you were clearly the most capacitated, then what the Hell did he want from you?

You followed the road signs and his passive-aggressive mutterings about how to get to the interstate from here. You hadn't driven in a long time, mainly because your apartment was so close to everything you needed, and gas cost an arm and a leg. Maybe that was why Changmin was so prickly about you driving his car… but some things were a necessary evil. He would have to put on his big boy pants and deal with it.

"You know," you said after you'd officially hopped onto the highway. "Now would be a great time to start explaining things about the necklace. Since we were supposed to talk about it at the lighthouse and all."

You heard him push out a breath. One of his hands cupped the side of his body that was battered the most while his other rested on the center console. "Right."

You waited.

He struggled to fit the words into the right places for a decent explanation, nothing seeming quite adequate, but he eventually came up with an answer. "The necklace—" he paused, amending, "I guess I should call it more of an amulet—the amulet is something made of very ancient, powerful magic. It was something forged from a combination of all three realms, and so the energy that it stores within itself is complacent with all three realms.

"I can't remember exactly the mythology that came with the damned thing, but your sister did. She knew all the ins and outs of the legend—she obsessed over it."

"Obsessed over it?" Your eyebrows furrowed

"Yes," he said. "Which is why it's crazy to me she was even able to keep it a secret from you in the first place." Changmin brushed a hand through his hair, shifting in his seat awkwardly. "Anyways, the amulet is kind of like a key. It needs a vessel to be the—the gate or the portal of sorts to activate it, but it would grant the creature who wields it the energy and power to travel through realms as if it were their own."

You checked your mirrors and flicked on the signal to change lanes. "Wait, not to sound like a YA fantasy book protagonist—"

"A what?"

"Human thing," you dismissed airily. "So if someone got their hands on this thing, they could hypothetically conquer whole realms that aren't their own? Hypothetically, of course."

Changmin nodded slowly. "Hypothetically," he drawled. "If that's what they wanted to do. You'd have to have one Hell of an army to do so, and the amulet can't really give power to other people, only the one."

"It's a portable charger for one person's plan of mass destruction?"

He huffed, turning his head to the window, and when you glanced over for a millisecond, you swore he was smiling. "You're so…"

"Funny, clever, charming?" You supplied, the corners of your lips curling upward. You licked your lips, then pursed them in thought. While you were driving and pondering the weapon of otherworldly conquer seated upon your neck, you also kept a look out for any restaurants at nearby exits. Maybe an all-day brunch place with blueberry pancakes… "Changmin?"

"Hm."

"Is there a way to destroy this? To ensure that no one can ever use it?" There had to be some method of self-destruct for something potentially so dangerous. Then again, you weren't an expert on magical artifacts.

Changmin's eyes moved back over to you. "If there is, it'll be somewhere in Sena's notes."

Oh.

The car ride chugged on for another hour or so before you gave up. Your stomach growled its disapproval of going so long without something sustaining, and you marked the billboard of a gas station at the next exit. The car needed to be fed, too, anyway.

It was a standard little pump-and-wash with an option to fill your tank, take your car through the little Soapy Joe's car wash in the back, or both. The gas station building was a camel-colored sandstone with deals on gas station snacks printed in massive, red block letters on bright yellow paper. For the most part, it seemed pretty empty, with only an SUV of a family on a road trip and another sedan with a rather disgruntled looking business man.

You swung the car into the pump station closest to the gas station store's door and began searching for the gas tank button.

"Bottom left, second from the right," Changmin instructed, already clambering out of the car. He suppressed the urge to make a noise as he did so with his still-bruised and battered torso.

"What are you doing?" You asked after locating the button and giving it a push. The muffled pop sound followed right after.

He braced one hand on the roof of his car as he peered back in. "I'm filling up my tank."

You deadpanned. You should have known the stubborn cretin would insist. It was better for you to not fight him if he was gonna be this anal about driving his own car while injured. "I'm getting snacks then."

"Have fun," he muttered, pulling his card out of his bifold. Where did even get money to put on that thing?

You mused upon that thought as you dug around your backpack in the back seat for a couple twenties. You wouldn't need much, just enough so you could indulge a bit.

Ten minutes later, you walked out of the gas stop with a plastic grocery bag in one hand and a blue and red swirled slurpee in the other. It was no 7/11, but goddamn did the sugar hit your system just right. After nearly drowning in sea water, it gave your body the perfect amount of zip.

You found Changmin in the driver's seat (were you surprised? Of course not), with his seat and mirrors adjusted back to how he liked it, and his phone plugged into the USB port in the center console. You clambered into your designated seat with the grace of a car sale balloon because of your sore ankle.

He glanced up from his phone, hand carding through his hair. "Ready?"

"Wait, before we go—" You sorted through your bag of treats and looked for the little, brown paper bag amongst all the other junk. You pulled it out, the bottom beginning to seep through from the grease of the pastry inside. Childlike glee rushed through your veins, and you couldn't tell if that was just the slurpee or the thought of getting him a treat. Beaming, you extended it toward him. "I got you a blueberry muffin."

For a second, Changmin just stared. His eyes widened at the expression on your face, and you couldn't tell why something felt like it had shifted. He glanced at the grease-soaked paper vessel, then back to you, then the bag, then—

"Thanks," he said slowly, grabbing the bag from you and unrolling the top edge to open it up. (If you'd paid attention longer, you would have seen the darkening of his cheekbones. A rare sight.)

"They don't exactly sell blueberry pancakes," you prattled on and decided between a bag of kettle chips or a packet of dried seaweed; you decided on the former and popped the bag open. "So I got the next best thing. And the woman running the store looks like she bakes them fresh. Oh, I saw that it had this crumble on top and thought it had to be a sign it was top notch stuff."

Changmin inspected the muffin, then took a generous bite, cupping beneath it to catch any crumbs. His eyes fluttered shut and he moaned. "Fuck—me. That's so good."

You brightened. "Glad you think so," you chuckled in amusement.

He hummed in reply, already going in for his next bite.

With a car of slightly more content campers, you hit the road. The remainder of the journey would add up to a little more than four hours from here, as long as there weren't any other pitstops made. Hopefully, you would arrive before it got dark and you wouldn't have to deal with another situation like this morning.

The bag of snacks rested at your feet and you had tucked away the chip bag for later. It was concerning how fast your body became accustomed to this seat again, how it knew exactly what way to sit in order to be comfortable.

Changmin glanced over at you just as he made it onto the interstate ramp. "You should get some sleep. It's been… a long day and night."

Right on cue, you yawned. "Do you dream when you sleep—if you sleep?" You asked, instead of heeding his advice.

"Huh? Oh." He used his free hand to adjust the AC coming in through the vents. "I only really sleep if I'm bored, or if I know I'm not under threat, I guess."

You frowned. "Do you not feel safe a majority of the time?"

"It depends," he lifted his shoulder. "When we were at uni, there usually wasn't much threat around, so I slept sometimes. I only sometimes dream though."

You hummed, acknowledging him. "I think it's kind of funny that you're a demon studying anthropology."

His laugh was breathy. "Yeah? A little ironic?"

"What? Did you think it would help you blend in or something?"

He snorted. "No… I mean, it seemed like an interesting topic when I perused the website when applying."

You made a face, eyes staring out at the vast road before you. It was just before a typical afternoon rush hour, so there wasn't much traffic. "How did you even have the credentials to apply and get in?"

"A little white lie never hurt anyone," he said innocently.

You threw him an incredulous look, and a chuckle fell out of his mouth. "Despicable."

"I am a demon."

You fiddled with the hem of your sister's shirt, then reached up to play with the chain and pendant around your neck. You'd become so used to its weight that it felt wrong when it was gone. "Would you ever teach me how to use Bonnie?"

Changmin's hand felt around the middle console blindly until he met the lid of your slurpee. "I'm drinking this."

"Wait, I have an extra straw—"

"What, you don't want my magic spit?"

Your gaze flattened into a deadpan. "Oh, so now it's magic spit?" You watched in melodramatic disgust as he took a generous sip of the sugary drink from your straw. You didn't really mind, of course; you weren't going to finish that thing all on your own. "And you didn't answer my question."

He replaced the cup back into its cupholder. "What's a Bonnie?"

"I hate you."

He let out a loud laugh that made your forced scowl nearly shatter. Who knew a demon could look so pretty when he laughed like that? "I don't even use it, you know that, right?"

"And I haven't the slightest idea why you keep her locked up like that." You shoved the pair of sandals you'd stolen from the lighthouse off so you could fold your legs onto the seat with you. Your finger brushed over the flesh of your ankle, where it was gradually splotching with blueish purple.

It was a familiar scene, that of Changmin taking his eyes off the road the briefest moment to inspect your bruise and frown. Humans are so fragile, he'd said before. The bruises on your neck from the motel had faded by now, thanks to the miracle salve he gave you at Moonstone Creak.

He cursed under his breath. "I forgot to bring the cup of salve from the inn," he sighed.

"That's fine," you murmured. "We were… in a rush." You swallowed, and when you closed your eyes, you could see the pack house in flames. "I hope they're okay."

"Yeah, same."

"Would it have mattered if we stayed?" You asked.

You expected him to simply say that it wouldn't have mattered, because that wasn't our goal. He knew what the wolf shifters were capable of, what Jacob was capable of, but you didn't. You'd seen them in bliss and peace, without the ferocity of what he might have been used to.

He thought about it and confessed, "I'm not sure. They can take care of themselves, but I—" he stumbled over his words, reeling them back in before he could say them out loud.

"You…?"

He shook his head. "It's not important. What's important now is that you—we—got out alive." When you couldn't find anything to say after, he reached over across the console to find your forearm again. His fingers curled around you, like they had when you'd left the woods. "If it makes you, uh, feel better, we can reach out to them. Send them a message once we get to the safehouse."

You nodded, moving your arm so his hand rested in yours and your other hand patted the top of his. "I'd appreciate that."

Changmin's nod was small, and he kept his hand sandwiched between the two of yours.

#12—ALL HER SECRETS.

WHEN YOU DREAMED, your sister was drunk and stumbling across a dark road for help. Your throat lurched with air, but your scream was completely silent as her eyes went wide in the glare of the car lights. A deer in headlights, in a literal sense. It never occurred to you how morbid the saying was until you witnessed it in action.

Her body laid sprawled over the stretch of road as the couple driving scrambled out to check her vitals.

Dead on impact.

You awoke with a start.

Everything was fuzzy and muddled, and you sucked in oxygen through your nostrils, hands reaching up to rub your eyes with the heels of your palms. The place on your thigh where your hands had been resting grew cold at the lack of warmth as Changmin retracted his hand to his own side, putting the car into reverse to back into the driveway.

Cirrus clouds blotched the bruising sky, golden hour long since passed and the highway far out of view. You noted the residential street you faced through the front windshield with the sounds of children biking and drawing chalk masterpieces on sidewalks in the cul de sac down the road. You'd only ever really experienced this kind of tranquility in movies, never for yourself.

Your heartbeat, once erratic from the dream, calmed. (It was crazy how real a dream could feel.)

Changmin shuddered off the headlights and the engine died down. "We're here," he cleared his throat. He cracked his knuckles, one hand cradling the other.

You peered through your side view mirror, only catching part of the house in view. How had she afforded a whole house in the suburbs? Granted, it didn't look as large as the others on the street, but the fact that this was under her name… she hid all of this from you.

"I dreamed about her," you murmured in a voice hoarse from sleep.

He glanced at you. "Sena?"

"Yeah," you hummed. "How she died—or I guess, how I imagined her death to be." You met his gaze, and it seemed like he was searching for something in your face. You reached down to gather your belongings in the gas station grocery bag, then popped the car door open. "So this is the place, huh?"

Changmin shook his hair out of his eyes. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I've only been here once or twice, too, but it's nice."

"How'd she afford this place anyway?"

"I think she found a vampiric sundial for a client." Crazy. Must have been one well-off client.

He hadn't been wrong about the place being nice. It was one of those cookie-cutter houses with white shutters in the windows, a garage big enough for two cars, and a driveway flanked by twin beds of emerald green grass. A little metal mailbox sat at the end of the driveway by the street with a red tab and the house number branded on the side. It was the dictionary definition of suburbia.

Changmin walked right up the front porch and stuck his hand in the potted plant hanging from a hook. Out of it, he withdrew a key, rusted and dirtied, but the perfect fit for the front door. It was a massive change from the lighthouse's situation.

Inside, you didn't expect anything less cozy than what you found. The entryway was confronted by a staircase that led to the second floor, and there was a hallway that led further into the home, and a doorway to the right that went into the living room. You took this all in with wide eyes, your breath held at the sight of unlit candles on tables, quirky baubles beside them, and picture frames—dear god, the picture frames.

You stopped in front of one of them and picked it up. In the dimming light, you traced the lines of your sister's smile and yours right next to hers. You both looked so young in this photo—way more carefree and innocent. You wondered how she had saved all of these photos when you only had them encased in your memory.

Changmin had disappeared up the stairs, most likely heading straight for Sena's room or an office, anywhere that might hold the notebooks you and he had been looking for. The wooden planks creaked slightly under your weight as you climbed the stairs, and you ran your hand along the smooth railing as you went.

"Hey Changmin?" You called out, head swiveling around the upstairs landing to find which doorway he'd disappeared into.

"Yeah?" He asked from somewhere within the furthest doorway. You followed the sound and stuck your head into what looked to be a home office. It was outfitted with a desk and office chair, a few bookshelves, and an armchair in the corner. Changmin brushed his finger along the spines.

You joined him at his side and picked a random one to pull out. "How are your ribs?" You asked him, moving your gas station grocery bag handles to hang on your forearms you flipped through the journal. This one didn't seem to have much; maybe she wanted to start a planner in this and never finished.

His movements paused for a second, then resumed. "My ribs? Oh, they're, uh… they're fine now."

Your face screwed up in incredulity. "That's insane."

"Supernatural regeneration plus human blood," he said like he was explaining one plus one equals two.

"But patching up broken bones?" You replaced the book back in its slot and wandered away from the shelf. The office space was decorated comfortably enough but there were no other personal additions besides the furniture.

You stepped back out into the upstairs loft to search for the bedroom. The master was located on the other side of the office door, and when you opened it up, you were hit by a wave of nostalgia.

That was her. That was what Sena smelled like. And where you knew she always kept a bottle, there sat a glass vial of her favorite perfume on the nightstand table. It was as if it said to you, "Welcome home, Yn. We've been expecting you." Except, you never got to be welcomed here, not by your sister, at least.

It was like going into her locked room at the apartment all over again. There weren't as many things here as there were back at your place, but the subtle things left around reminded you of her, besides the scent lingering. It was uncanny how such a thing could stick around for so long, clinging to the walls, the sheets, the floors, until even the air vents recycled that same smell on its own.

You settled on the edge of the bed and just sat there.

It seemed you were returning to the same questions over and over again. Why had she hid any of this from you?

Changmin appeared in the doorway, his hand bracing the doorway. "Hey."

"Did you find something?" You asked.

He pursed his lips, the miniature mole beneath his bottom lip popping out at you. "Nah, not yet anyway. I just… wanted to, uh, see where you'd gone."

"Oh, I came to find her room, is all." You pressed your hands flat on the comforter to feel the fabric. You didn't quite know what to think. "It's weird knowing she lived here at some point."

"She had her reasons for keeping things a secret," he said quietly while venturing a step into the room.

You exhaled sharply. "Yeah, I figured." At the motel, he had confessed that he and Sena both agreed to keep you out of this business unless necessary. He had sisters, did he not say? It didn't seem too far-fetched to assume that he could sympathize more with Sena than you. "You mentioned once that you have sisters."

He stiffened, and you wondered if you'd crossed a line.

"I do," he replied slowly. "I'm not as close to them as you were with Sena."

Your smile was thin. "Yeah, well, based on the past few weeks, I'm not so sure we were that close."

Conflict flickered across his face, and he crossed the space between the doorway and the bed, and took a seat on the edge adjacent to you. "She talked about you a lot," he said. "Thought the world of you."

Your eyes were pinned to the floor as tears welled up in your eyes and blurred your vision.

"Always talked about her baby sister, and how you were the one with your head screwed on right."

If she could see you now… you were going half mad, but the corners of your lips curled upward at the sentiment. You sniffled, wiping your eyes and cheeks with the side of your hand. "You know," you mused, your voice watery, "for a demon, you're getting good at this empathizing thing."

Changmin's shoulders lowered, his hands laid out over his legs as he chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. It's not as hard as you make it out to be."

"Liar."

"Human."

"You need new insults," you groaned, shoving his shoulder.

His bangs hung in his eyes and you couldn't see his expression quite clearly. "Who said it was ever an insult?"

Changmin let you check the state of his still-slightly-broken torso (liar) as long as you let him examine your bruised ankle. You chalked it up to your demon being a big baby again, but you figured there was no harm and no foul in letting him take a peek. It wasn't like the injury hindered your movement an awful lot anyway.

You hissed as he jabbed at a blossom of purple on your ankle and you tried to retract your leg. He kept a firm enough grasp unfortunately. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"So it does hurt."

"No," you quipped, "you're just a sadist."

The two of you sat on the couch in the living room with a first aid kit opened up on the coffee table and a legal pad next to it. In your lap sat one of Sena's many, many journals propped open to a page that you were scanning for anything that might be of help. Changmin had set aside the journal he was reading to drag your foot into his lap.

The top leaf of paper on the legal pad was impressed with the message you had scrawled out for the wolves of Moonstone Creak, asking about their state of health. Changmin had summoned a sprite (???) from over the fence in the backyard to ferry it over. Apparently, it was the supernatural equivalent of medieval pigeon messaging.

You couldn't even begin to wrap your head around all of it. The point was that he had kept his word, and now, you were keeping yours.

The words scrawled in your sister's handwriting blurred in your vision, and you glanced up to watch Changmin again. "What are you doing?" You asked, leaning your head against the couch cushion. "You're not… gonna lick my ankle, right?" You scrunched your face up. As much as you appreciated him trying to heal your injury—

"That's not how saliva works," he replied, holding your leg with one hand so he could lean forward and dig around in the first aid kit.

"Oh, I'm sorry I don't know how saliva works."

He arched an eyebrow up at you, and you recognized the silent "Really?" in his expression.

You lowered your eyes back to the journal in your lap and tried to suppress your amusement. "I don't know how you plan to heal a bruise, but usually ice and time are the best—oh shit, that's cold!"

You squealed and attempted to wrench your foot away once again, but he yet again prevailed. He anchored your foot down as he pressed a bandage-looking adhesive around the circumference of your ankle. As the sharp, icy pain gradually diminished, your muscles loosened up.

"Don't ever do that again," you told him with a scowl, successfully pulling away your leg from him (because he let you).

He sent you a flat look. "You'll thank me later. It's a good thing she had some stashed away," he said, flipping the first aid box lid closed and returning to the journal he picked out.

You gave your ankle an experimental roll. The ache had numbed and there was no longer a jab of pain when you moved the joint around. "What is it?"

"Some magical bandage that is specifically for mortal species," he said offhandedly with his eyes glued to the pages. "You have to find a witch apothecary to get them, and even then, they sometimes scam you and jack up the price."

"Huh." There was still much for you to learn, it seemed, but even the supernatural world fell victim to capitalism.

With your foot patched up, the both of you descended into silence to return to your respective journals. There were interesting things scrawled between the lines and the margins. Your sister liked to sketch things, and so you figured out pretty quickly that this journal was used to document supernatural herbs she came across while on her adventures.

You ditched that one to move onto the next. This one seemed like a standard, hard-covered journal with a lilac-colored ribbon used as a bookmark. It wasn't marking any specific page, however, but was only tucked between the cover and the first page. You flipped through the entries, noting the dates—wait.

Wait… these were recent.

"Changmin," you muttered, tapping his shoulder as you scanned the inky scrawls.

Changmin put his notebook down and the two of you converged onto the same couch cushion, your shoulders and thighs pressed together, and the book opened between you.

"Do you recognize when this was?" You asked, pointing out the dates in the top corners. "I remember she told me she was going up north to study abroad during this time."

His forehead creased between his eyebrows. "Yeah… I remember. She was being vague with where she said she was going."

"She didn't tell you?"

"She didn't report to me, if that's what you're asking."

You turned your attention to the diary entries. This particular one was labeled with the third of November, the year before:

A note to self: never choose the Holiday Inn off the I-375. It might literally smell like a dead body in here, and I'm keeping my window open the entire night.

You snorted. Noted.

—drive was long and I don't think Yn expected anything. She had this massive exam today, so I think she was a little preoccupied, but she sent me off as usual. (Fighting Yn!) It's tough keeping this from her, but at the same time… I'm not sure if she would understand.

She's always been in the right headspace—not whatever dream world I've been living in. I don't know why I always invalidate myself when I know this is all real. Maybe it's not?

That's besides the point. I'm supposed to meet the amulet owner in a couple days and there is still a laundry list of things I need to do before that exchange happens.

"The amulet had an owner before her?" You voiced aloud. And what did she mean that you wouldn't understand? Was that why she never told you the truth?

Changmin gave a head bob. "I wouldn't mark it as a ridiculous notion. A lot of magical artifacts sit in basements and get pawned or sold as antiques." He shrugged. "It's not like they come with manuals that say I'm not just a Tiffany lamp; I'm a magic carpet."

You squinted at him. "I never realized how silly you were."

"I'm not silly," he scoffed.

Sure you aren't, you thought. Demons and their tough guy act.

Changmin flipped past the pages, both of you skimming each as you went for any words that jumped off the page.

"Stop," you said, bumping your hand against his. "Go back."

You thought you had seen something… there.

It was dated several weeks after the first entry, and her writing looked more scratchy, more frantic:

I translated one of the passages wrong. The amulet doesn't use the wearer's blood as an activator, it BINDS them to it. The wearer is an amplifier, NOT an activator.

What.

You stopped reading there, digging the pendant out from beneath your shirt collar and watching the red upon the stone wink at you. The blood drained from your face—what did that mean, amplifier?

Next to you, Changmin kept reading on. His eyebrows braided together in concentration as he soaked up all the words on the notebook like a sponge. This was all of the information he hasn't gotten from Sena before, and what she might have wanted to tell him beforehand. At least, that was what you thought. That was what made the most sense.

It's too late for me anyways, I already pricked my finger against it and it sucked it all up. It's been done, was what your sister wrote. I don't know how magic reads blood types or genetic code, if it even does that, but for some reason I'm less scared and more curious.

Things to note: it seems to match my heartbeat. The full amulet should ideally be the shape of an infinity loop—supposedly. It's a little off, but it might be from the wear of time. It's missing a piece though, a middle portion that slides over it like a connector or binder of sorts. Neither half will stay together without it, and without said third piece, the amulet won't work.

I guess my next course of action is to find out who does have the third piece, and to make sure this damn thing will never EVER be used.

Changmin flipped the page, and you began unclasping the chain.

He stopped you, placing a hand over your own with wide eyes. "Woah, what are you doing?"

Your mouth dropped open. "Did you not just read what she said? This is an amplifier, Changmin. I don't know what the Hell that means, but I don't want it on me." No matter how much the emptiness left behind protested, the word "amplifier" made your heart drop.

He protested again, stopping your movement. "Yn—Yn, listen to me. We cannot lose the one piece we have."

Your heart was moving erratically now, the pendant pulsing in perfect time. If it had your sister's blood in it then why did it match yours? "I don't want it on me," you croaked. You fisted the pendant and held it away from your chest. "It matches my heartbeat, Changmin. Do you know how fucking unnerving that is when it's supposed to be my sister's?"

Changmin faltered at this revelation. He blinked. "I—since when did it match your heartbeat?"

"Since the moment I put it on."

His eyes went to the amulet in your hands, and his expression rearranged itself into something you couldn't read—worry, maybe—

He froze.

You just barely picked up on the sound yourself while descending into panic, but it sounded like wheels rolling on the street in front of the house. Both of you peered out the window shutters to the front lawn space as a white colored sedan pulled up along the front curb.

A white sedan.

Changmin's hand tightened on your arm as he assessed the car. The headlights remained on, but the driver had yet to step out and reveal themselves. "You have Clyde?"

"I do, but… what if they're here for the neighbors?" You whispered even as the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Not here, not again. You and Changmin were finally getting answers.

He looked like he was about to counter when the driver's side door opened.

Instead of a big, scary monster or creature, the person who clambered out was quite petite. Then again, you weren't quite sure what to expect. She wore a big, white knit cardigan that hung off her frame, and she had platinum blond hair with dark purple highlights. The car door slammed shut behind her as she trudged up the grassy lawn toward the front door and rang the doorbell.

Changmin seemed just as surprised as you did.

"Girl Scout cookies?" You suggested under your breath. It definitely wasn't Girl Scout cookie season, and the woman didn't seem young enough to still be a Girl Scout. (And usually, Girl Scout sellers came with something to sell. This one just had her car keys and a phone.)

He passed you a look. The muscle in his jaw told you he was still on the offense. "Stay here," he said, then got up and quietly made his way to the front door.

The doorbell rang again, the sound echoing throughout the house loud enough to wake the dead.

Changmin made eye contact with you once more before he began unlocking the door. He pasted on a smile, with one hand on the doorknob to keep the door angled so the woman couldn't see past him, and the other lingering around his middle "Hi, can I help you?"

You didn't even think he had the vocabulary to be polite.

"Oh, uh, hi!" Chirped the visitor. Her voice was bright, but with a raspy quality to it. She neither looked familiar nor sounded familiar. "This is probably really strange, but did you recently move into this house?"

Changmin moved his hand up to his opposing shoulder. "Yeah, actually. My partner and I just moved in. Why do you ask?"

Partner? He meant the strictly-business kind, right?... Right?

You stood up and began making small steps toward him in the entryway. He must have heard you, because you saw his eyes flicker toward you in his peripheral vision, and he stuck his hand out behind the door to swat you away.

Like you were going to listen.

"Ah," said the woman, "I just…" she chuckled, shaking her head. "One of the neighbors texted me about seeing you guys come in earlier today. I used to know the previous owner; we were pretty close, I guess you could say."

His eyes darted to yours for a millisecond. You heard that, too, right?

You approached the door, standing just behind the wall and out of sight.

"Oh, you knew Sena?" Changmin asked.

"Yeah," she answered easily. "She was my ex-fianceé."

#13—NO SUCH THING.

"SO HOW LONG HAVE YOU TWO BEEN TOGETHER?" The question nearly had you snorting tea from your nose. Beside you, Changmin had a similar reaction, turning away slightly to catch the water that trickled out of his mouth.

Mika, the woman with the platinum blonde and purple hair, the woman who had shown up at the door, the woman who was Sena's ex-fianceé, widened her eyes in alarm. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry—is—is that not what you both are? I assumed when he said partner, but I shouldn't have—"

You shook your head, thumping your chest. "Oh, no, no," you said, pretending your voice hadn't gone up four octaves. "It's—it's okay! You just caught us both off guard, is all."

As soon as Mika revealed her identity, you said "screw it all" and practically ripped the door open. Any skepticism was dashed when she recognized you immediately as Sena's little sister—as stupid as it sounded, that was enough proof for you.

You invited her in.

Now, she sat on the armchair adjacent to you and Changmin. Sena's books had been kicked under the couch in the haste to clean up, leaving the first aid kit and legal pad out. To Mika's credit, she didn't comment on either one, just accepting your offer for a drink.

"We're uhm…"

"Kind of together," you said, but it sounded more like a question.

Changmin swallowed. "Uh, ish."

"It's complicated."

You hoped your face hadn't gone too red because it burned like the pits of Hell. Changmin didn't look any better; even his face was brushed in pink.

Mika let out a delicate laugh, lifting her mug of tea to her lips for a sip. "No, I get it. You don't owe me an explanation."

You could have sagged in relief. At least she seemed nice.

"I really appreciate you both letting me into your home," she continued and nursed the mug in her lap. "I know neither of you know me, but I suppose we have one mutual friend."

You nodded. "Yeah no, of course. I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you. Sena…" Hid so much from me. "Sena and I both had pretty different lives." Understatement of the century.

Mika straightened. "Oh, yes! I completely understand. She actually told me that she traveled a lot, and that you're studying—I believe it was accounting?"

You blinked. "Yes, actually."

"That's lovely, by the way," she said pleasantly. "I've never been great at math, so I admire you for that. Definitely not my cup of tea, but good for you."

"When is math anyone's cup of tea?" You mused, and she gave a little laugh of agreement.

This was… unexpectedly nice. But while the moment was sweet, you were divided internally. Sena told Mika about you, but didn't tell you about Mika. Had you done something where she didn't trust you enough to disclose this very important part of her personal life to you? It wasn't like you hid anything from her—you just, well, didn't have anything to hide.

"I didn't realize that Sena even told you about this place," Mika said, gesturing around at the house.

Oh, right. Back to the reality of your current situation. "Heh, yeah," you drawled and scratched the side of your neck. "She wrote all of the details down in her will for me." That seemed like a logical lie to tell.

"I'm surprised you weren't included in the will reading, Mika," Changmin suddenly jumped into the conversation. Your eyes were wide as you whipped your head toward him. His expression was carefully blank, words and movements executed with a lethal casualness. Because that was who he was—lethal. You just couldn't understand why he was putting it on for this lady.

"Changmin," you whispered sharply in reprimand, setting your cup down on the coffee table.

"No, it's okay, Yn," Mika replied good-naturedly. "It's a perfectly reasonable observation. I told her not to include me in her will, if she ever wrote one. I just… I have a lot of material things already, and it sounds kind of corny, but I didn't want anything like that from her—just her and her company." You noted the way she played around with the empty spot on her left ring finger absentmindedly, as if something—a ring—had once sat there.

Your chest warmed. At least you knew your sister was properly loved, as she should have been. A bittersweet sort of sadness wormed into the back of your mind still. "Ah, I see. I wish I would've known how to contact you after…"

"After that, yeah," she nodded. She swallowed, setting her mug on the table and shifting in the armchair. "Same here. Sena never gave me any means to get in touch with you, but I'm sure it was for a certain reason."

"How did you know that Sena was dead?"

You slapped your hand over Changmin's mouth. "I am so sorry about him. You don't have to answer that—"

"I just assumed that Sena had me as one of her emergency contacts, besides you, of course." Mika gestured to you with her expression still light and unbothered. You removed your hand from Changmin's mouth, nodding along. "Somebody contacted me about how her sister identified the body, but that Sena was dead, nonetheless."

That made sense. The morgue had been cold when you stepped foot inside it to confirm it was your sister there. You could imagine what Mika must have felt when authorities contacted her to give her the bad news. It must have been something close to how you felt.

With one hand resting in your lap, the other fiddled with your pendant. You'd forgotten to tuck it away earlier.

Mika's eyes darted toward it after following your hand movement. "Oh, that's an interesting necklace."

You enclosed your fingers around it and straightened. Every time anybody else noticed the amulet, you always felt like a deer in headlights. "It's—it's nothing really. I just—"

"I have one exactly like it."

Your fidgeting slowed. Heartbeat racketing against your chest, you could feel your counterpart tense next to you. "You do?" You stammered.

She bobbed her head. "I'm pretty sure, yes. Sena gave it to me. At first, I wasn't sure exactly what stone it was—I kind of just figured it was something precious, but I knew it had a level of sentimental value to it." Mika smiled, the corners of her lips curling sweetly, eyes misting. "I guess it makes sense that you have the other half."

Of course. Of course Mika had the other half. That was why Sena split the halves of the necklace and gave one half to you. Maybe this was her way of connecting you and Mika together by giving either of you a half of the very important necklace. One question that still remained was why hadn’t Sena mentioned anything to you about Mika or the other half of the necklace? Had she forgotten to write it down in her haste? Perhaps she hadn’t thought she was in danger just yet, and didn’t have a moment before her untimely death to sit down and explain everything in a letter.

“Do you happen to have the other half with you?” You asked her, leaning forward onto your knees. “I’ve been so puzzled as to what it is these past few weeks.” A blatant lie, but you needed to know how much Mika knew. She hadn’t mentioned anything about the dire importance of the necklace yet, but she said “sentimental value.” That wasn’t the same thing. Was it?

Mika pursed her lips and shook her head. “I don’t, unfortunately. It’s at home with my other accessories, but I’d gladly bring it for you to see, maybe over dinner?”

Changmin delivered a swift nudge to your side with his elbow. “Can I talk to you?”

You pressed your lips together. “Sure,” you said, and he immediately stood from the couch to head out into the hallway. You supposed he assumed you were going to follow him. You sent Mika an apologetic look, then trailed after your demon.

You found him waiting for you in the kitchen, leaning against the island with his hands folded over his chest.

“What did you want to talk about?”

He looked at you in earnest and pressed a finger to his lips in a quiet signal. You fixed him with a look, coming to stand beside him. “I don’t think we can trust her,” he murmured to you with his mouth by your ear. He had leaned over so close, you could see the pores on his skin.

The two of you pulled away simultaneously.

You coughed and braced an elbow against the countertop. “Why do you say that?” You asked. You didn’t mean for it to sound so defensive, but you bristled at the thought that you couldn’t trust the one other person who might have more insight into your sister’s life than you or Changmin.

Changmin cocked his head at his tone. “You believe her?”

“She hasn’t given me any reason to not believe her.” You pushed out a breath. If you stepped out of your own head for a moment, it was clear that something was bothering him. Considering he was the one with the supernatural experience and he had yet to be wrong yet, there had to be a good reason for him to not trust Mika. “Okay, why don’t you trust her?”

His eyes roamed over your face—he was doing that thing again—looking for something, but what, you weren’t too sure of. “I…” He sighed, “I realize that this—this is your chance to reconnect with a part of your sister’s past, but she… her presence just doesn’t sit right with me. The timing, her answers… sweetheart, there’s no such thing as coincidence.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. “So you think she’s here because of the necklace, or something to that effect?”

“Yes, something to that effect,” he said.

“But all of her answers make sense to me. If Sena had both halves of the necklace, giving two halves to two of the people she deemed close to her would make sense. And I think what she said about the will was a little corny, but…” You admitted, “It was a little strange that Sena didn’t mention anything about her in the will.”

Changmin bit his lip. “I know we probably shouldn’t villainize her right off the bat, but there’s something so weird about this, Yn.”

“Okay,” you said, “I don’t fully agree, but let’s say yes to dinner and then go from there, yeah?”

He seemed to be in agreement after that, and the two of you returned to the living room where Mika glanced up from her phone. “Everything okay?”

You nodded. “Oh yeah. No need to worry; just a personal thing,” you said casually and took your seat from before. “You were saying something about dinner, right?”

As Mika told you about a neat, little restaurant nearby themed like a Prohibition-era speakeasy, you absentmindedly reached for your cup of tea on the coffee table. Before your fingers could make contact with the handle, you felt another hand bump yours out of the way. The cup was suddenly not there.

Instead, you glanced over at Changmin as he swept your tea mug up into his grasp. “Sorry, I wanted some. I hope you don’t mind.”

Your expression was quizzical. He must be a lot more comfortable with sharing things with you after he stole half your slurpee in the car ride. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really that thirsty,” you said slowly.

But his gaze wasn’t on you; it was on Mika. His eyes narrowed at her over the rim of the cup, and he drained its contents in one gulp, like a challenge. You would have to ask him about it later.

Mika didn’t look the least bit fazed. She continued on about dinner plans, none the wiser to Changmin’s dagger-sharp eyes. You had to give her credit for sitting there under his gaze without shrinking into herself, because you probably would not have survived.

The remainder of the visit went without a hitch. Mika didn’t say anything else that drew a snarky response from Changmin, and the three of you (really, it was just you and Mika who participated) decided to meet at the restaurant she mentioned the next day for dinner.

“Well, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Mika laughed lightheartedly, and the both of you stood at once.

Changmin stayed on the couch, but you figured it would be fine if you just walked her to the door. You frowned, though, noting the way his eyelids fluttered, like he was trying to keep himself upright. “Nonsense,” you said to her, “it was really nice to meet you, Mika.”

You opened the front door for her, and Mika fitted her shoes back on. “You, as well. And your partner.” Her lips curled up into a sweet smile. “Can’t wait to see you both tomorrow again, and to get to know you better. We have so much to catch up on.”

You nodded. “Yes, definitely. Get back safe, Mika.”

“I will. Thanks, Yn.” She gave a wave before marching down across the front lawn. You lingered by the door to make sure she got into her car okay, and returned her final, little wave through the driver’s side window.

With one hand braced on the side of the open front door, you craned your head around to look at Changmin on the couch. “Hey, you doing okay?” You asked, eyebrows creasing at the way he was hunched over now. “Changmin?”

“I think she—”

You didn’t hear what he said.

From your peripheral vision, you saw something swoop in toward you fast. You couldn’t comprehend what was happening—just the blur of feathers, the scream you let out, and the sound of Changmin yelling your name.

He was so sure that Mika drugged your tea with essence of sloth.

After you and Changmin came back from the kitchen, he’d seen the way the surface of your tea swirled as if something had just been stirred into it. The tea, which had been a mild green color before, looked a shade deeper, with fresh steam rising from it. He recognized those properties so distinctly to that of supernatural essences modeled after the seven deadly sins. He hadn’t even needed to think about it—he just reached for it and drank the entire thing. The worst case scenario was that Mika put enough of the essence in there that Changmin would be slightly affected, but only that much; either way, he would be able to stomach it better than you could. He couldn’t let you consume even a drop of it.

But now that his eyelids were as heavy as lead curtains and his brain felt like cotton, he was thinking it had to be sloth. But even if it was sloth, he wouldn’t have been this affected by it.

It had to be something different. Something he hadn’t taken before, something she knew a demon wouldn’t already have tolerance to.

He tuned into the conversation happening, just as Mika was excusing herself to head home. Good, she would leave and he could sleep this fucking drug off. You would be none the wiser.

“—will. Thanks, Yn.”

Almost gone.

Changmin’s eyelids shuddered closed as he leaned forward onto his knees with his head ducked to his chest. This… whatever the fuck this was, it was hitting him… hitting him… like… like a truck.

A familiar voice—no, more than just familiar—came to him. Your voice reached out to him, a lighthouse guiding his ship through a storm to shore. “Hey, you doing okay? Changmin?”

Could you close the door and come closer? Come over to him and sit next to him again. He gave a rough shake of his head in an attempt to knock some sense into his head. “I think she—”

Your scream sliced him right through the chest, and he jolted. “YN?”

“Changmin! Changmin—”

Everything blurred in his vision as he tried to stand. The floor wobbled beneath him, and he swayed toward the polished wood violently. “YN,” he yelled. Please, please, please—he needed to get to you.

He could barely make out the shapes in his vision: the flurry of gray feathered wings, your legs kicking out as you fought your captor. Changmin’s body lurched toward you, but stumbled pathetically, nearly tripping over the coffee table. Panic seized him by the ribs, but he trudged onward. He… he had to get to you. “YN? YN.”

“Chang—”

He swore.

His knees hit the floor. He would fucking crawl if he had to.

A pair of boots came into his blurred vision. “Well, isn’t this a lovely sight?”

Something in the back of his mind told him to RUN. But he couldn’t. Fucking Hell, he couldn’t even push himself up.

His chin was tilted upward, and he made out the shapes of eyes staring into his soul like a cat to a mouse. “She’ll be alright,” the voice purred. “You have bigger problems now.”

#14—DON'T TRUST ANYONE.

OUT OF FEAR OF FALLING STRAIGHT TO YOUR DEATH, you didn’t struggle in the arms of your angelic captor. Your heart ratcheted around in your ribcage as you dangled from the powerful grasp of one divine being you didn't recognize. His feathered wings, colored a medium gray, would have been beautiful to you if you weren't currently one slip away from splatting to the earth. This angel was nothing like Jacob.

All you could do was wait for doom. Whenever it decided to take you.

You hoped Changmin was okay. You prayed to anybody listening that he was okay; the way he stumbled toward you… the desperation in his voice. You swallowed. Oh god, you hoped he was okay. You couldn't stomach the thought of it—of losing him.

(You hoped you were going to be okay, too.)

The night sky looked akin to a dark void. No stars hung tonight, and you couldn't even see the houses beneath your feet. You screwed your eyes shut—better to not look down.

It wasn't much longer that the angel dove down into the dark mass of clouds and your voice became entrapped in your throat again. When you opened your eyes, there was a large estate coming into view with small lights embedded in the grounds lighting the way like a private airstrip. The angel followed, letting your arms go when your feet were close enough to the ground.

You rolled into the grass—he grabbed you up but the back of your shirt to stand upright.

"Come on," he grunted, "let's go inside."

"What the Hell do you want from me?" You gritted out as he practically dragged you across the lawn and toward the mansion ahead.

Shit, where did he take you? The grounds sprawled around you for what seemed like acres. You didn't have the mind to appreciate the architecture though, if this was your final resting place.

The angel didn't answer your question. Rude.

When he wrestled you into the front foyer, he threw you to the cool, stone floor. Your hands and knees caught the stone with a sharp slap, and you winced, rolling onto your backside.

"Stay here until—" Something embedded itself into the side of his neck. He scrunched his face up in mild annoyance, feeling around for the dart and pulling the needle out. He scoffed at the puny thing, flicking it to the floor.

Somebody leapt out from the front window curtains, screeching like a bat out of Hell. The creature, the person, launched themselves onto the angel's back and reared their armed hand back, before plunging the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades.

Gold-tinted blood arced across the ceiling and walls. You were frozen in horror as you watched Mika cling to the angel's wings and stab him over—and over—and over—and over—

The angel fought well, but the blade—fucking Hell, it had to have been laced with something.

He fell face first into a pool of his blood, dead, you presumed.

You scurried backward, trying to put space between you and the angel corpse. The golden ichor was slowly trickling toward you over the polished floors.

Mika huffed a strand of hair out of her eyes, sweat dampening her forehead. Her entire front and hand was covered in angel blood. She swiped the back of her hand over her forehead, leaving a streak of it there like gruesome war paint.

She smiled at you—you shivered. "Sorry about that," she said, stepping over the corpse unceremoniously. "Had to get rid of him. This one was a pain in the ass to work with anyway." She gave the body a kick in the side, and you flinched.

"What—" you choked, "—who the fuck are you?"

Mika's cheerful disposition was still present in her face. Her eyes still turned into crescent moons when she smiled. She was still the Mika you met less than two hours ago, but also not. Nothing about her softness before brought you any comfort now.

"We just met, Yn, don't you remember?" She walked toward you, and you scrambled away. "Now, don't be like that. We're on the same side." The blade in his grasp glinted gold and silver in the foyer lighting, and she gestured with it. "Oh, this? I put a little something special on it—it's the same thing your demon drank. In this world, we need as many advantages as we can, Yn."

When you had yet to say anything, she sighed, disappointed. "Don't tell me you're not impressed. Your sister was the same way when I showed her the thing I made."

You had one hand behind you, inching toward Clyde in your back pocket. "What… what do you mean? Is Changmin going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine," she dismissed with a flick of her wrist. "Well," she reconsidered. "I don't know if he'll be okay. Depends on the mood of the angels who have him. But that's not our problem."

"If you want the necklace, you can have it."

Mika laughed. "Goody! I was gonna take it from you anyway, but no, that's not the only thing I want."

"What else could you possibly want?"

She towered over you and you stuck your angel blade out between you and her. She raised a brow at the knife, slowly leaning down to be eye level with you. "Your sister really didn't tell you anything, huh?"

You gritted your teeth in frustration.

"Yn, let me tell you a story." Mika settled into the floor in front of you, crisscrossing her legs. Gold clung and dried against her clothes and skin, but it didn't bother her. "Not long ago, I discovered a little thing in my grandfather's attic. It was two halves of a pendant, and when put together, it made the shape of an infinity sign—or something to that effect. I had no idea what it was, but I figured there was no use keeping it around; I didn't need it. I put it on Craigslist and waited.

"Lo and behold, I got a notification from someone interested. Her name—can you guess? I bet you can," Mika mused.

"Sena."

"There you go," she said, leaning back onto her palms with a wistful smile. "Sena and I arranged a time to meet, and the first time I saw her—do you believe in love at first sight? I do. I fell in love with her, and I like to think she did, too."

You attempted to put a stop to the shakiness in your hands. "Where are you going with this?"

"Impatient, are we?" Her eyes narrowed. She drawled, carrying on, "She introduced me to her world and the necklace. This little amulet that my grandfather had tossed in an old jewelry box could conquer worlds, in the right hands. Could you imagine that? Jumping from realm to realm in a supercharged version of yourself without losing energy?"

Your mouth pressed into a thin line. "Dangerous."

"That's the boring answer."

"You're sick."

"I like to say ambitious," she countered. "You're just like your sister. Sena wanted to figure out how to destroy the thing rather than how to use it. Waste of time and talent, if you ask me. She didn't get it."

Mika cocked an eyebrow at you. "She cut her finger on it one day and it drank up her blood like a sponge. It was too late for her to back out then—she was bound to it." She waved a hand in your direction, and you clutched at the necklace. "And now you are, too. Your blood is the closest thing to Sena's, and you're the only one who can make it work."

You felt the blood in your face run cold.

"Don't look so surprised. That's why the demon kept you around."

Your head was spinning. "You're not making sense," you sputtered. Changmin—Changmin wanted to get rid of this as much as you did—but… but he hadn't. He hadn't, had he? "Why should I believe you?"

Mika frowned. "What reason would I have to lie to you?"

"You just murdered someone you worked with—"

"Oh, and you don't think he has?"

Your mouth snapped shut.

She leaned forward a little. "You and I, Yn, would never have to live in fear of the supernatural. The power that lies in your hands now, around your neck?" She started pulling herself to her feet, and you swiftly followed so you wouldn't be on the ground anymore.

You didn't need her to have any more advantage over you.

"It's priceless," Mika said, opening her arms wide. "You know what your little demon was going to do with the finished pieces of the amulet?"

"He was going to destroy the pieces—"

"He was going to take it for himself and use it to get back in his family's good graces," Mika corrected sharply. She took a step toward you, and you took one back. "You never suspected why he was so desperate to make sure you both 'finished what your sister started?'"

Oh god, you were going to be sick. You couldn't believe her—you weren't just going to believe her. Everything was spinning.

He was so insistent.

He was always so damn insistent. And he had never mentioned anything before about destroying the amulet.

The demon that day… it had addressed him as Your Disgrace. Oh God—

"I don't," you forced out, "believe you." Were you a fool? Were you a fool for believing in the goodness of a demon who saved you from death more than once, made sure you were fed and healing and happy and safe? Had you made a grave mistake?

Don't trust anyone.

Why hadn't Sena mentioned anything about Changmin?

"Then you're an idiot," Mika quipped. "Even Sena knew better than you."

"Oh, shut up," you snarled. You backed up all the way into the next room—the kitchen. Yn, look for a way out, damn it.

"He figured it out. That you were linked to it, and you were the ticket to accessing its power and the other pieces." You both came to a stand still. The ichor crusted over like caramelized sugar all over her face and clothes and hands.

"You have the third piece," you said tightly.

She shrugged. "Of course, I do. Money can buy you so many things."

"Clearly, it can't buy you a moral compass."

Mika barked out a laugh. "Oh, you're funny! It's almost a shame you're resisting; I'd hate to pick off another Ln sister."

"What—"

She pounced.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you moved out of the way, barely missing the graze of her knife. You gripped your own in your fist and swung it at her, adrenaline rushing through your veins and urging you to win—because who knew what would happen if you lost.

She came at you again with teeth gnashing and stained in blood that wasn't hers. You'd seen her take down that angel with a wild ruthlessness.

You caught her wrist as the counter dug into your spine, the point of her knife glinting in the kitchen lights.

"It brought me—" she grunted, applying more force down on you, "—no pleasure to do what I did to her, but she wouldn't—listen."

You bit your lip and got one leg free to kick her off you. "Fuck you!" You grabbed the vase behind you and chucked it at her head.

You heard the glass shatter, but hadn't seen the damage done as you made a dash for the front foyer again.

"Not so fast, little Ln—"

Something snagged into the back of your shirt, and you and Mika went tumbling to the stone floor. Your head hit the marble with purpose, a sharp pain piercing through your temple. Your vision blurred for a second and you put your hands out to fight for your fucking life.

"You killed her?" You caught her knife hand again and managed a slice with Clyde to her side as you shoved her onto her back.

"I wasn't—trying to," she grunted.

You yelped as she attempted to claw at your face, your head swerving out of the way just in time. "What the fuck does that even matter?"

"It wasn't my fault she was dumb enough to leave the bar." Mika kneed you off her body and your knife flew. You swore under your breath and she immediately fisted a portion of your hair and yanked you back toward her. "You should've seen the way she stumbled like a baby deer. Your older sister—such determination. That car didn't even see her until it was too late."

With ferocity, you knocked your head back against her face. You heard the satisfying sound of bones crack.

"Fucking Hell—"

You dove for Clyde, your fingers wrapping around the handle just in time to roll out of the way as Mika came down over you for a killing strike. Her knife struck the stone, and she growled at you, dark red oozing from her crooked nose, with one hand cradling her face. The vision of bared teeth and blood sent a shock of fear down your spine.

"You little—" she screeched, licking the blood off her lips and staining her teeth. "I'm going to have so much fun using your blood and bones for the amulet. Don't worry, it won't hurt—me."

You swore as she came at you again without abandon. She brought her knife down, time and time again, trying to catch you at some point.

Your blade sliced across her cheek, but hers caught you in the side. You felt it break skin, and you had little time to mourn over the sting in your stomach before you were rolling out of the way again.

You scrambled to your feet and with a war cry for encouragement, you charged at her, leaping onto her back and sending her crashing back to the floor. You grabbed the back of her head and smashed it against the floor. "You murdered my sister."

Mika screamed, and she used all of her adrenaline to flip you over onto your back. Bloodied and bruised, she drove her elbow into your gut, sending the wind straight out of your lungs. "The only thing I regret—" she said, turning over to face you with half her face drooling with blood and her mouth curled into a wicked smile, "—is that she won't be here to watch me skin you half-alive and use your body parts."

She crushed your knife hand under her knee, and you screamed as the pain made you see white. Mika pinned you beneath her weight with her knife raised high above her like an executioner's axe. "Goodbye, Yn. Just know that you had a choice."

You braced yourself for impact, head turned away and eyes screwed shut. At least you would see your sister soon, right? Was that some reprieve?

But the blow never came.

Your eyes fluttered open just in time to see a sword made of living shadows arc up in the air and slice across Mika's neck. Her eyes went wide for a split second, and you choked in horror as her dismembered head hit the floor with a dull thud.

Her headless body fell listlessly to the side. Dead and rigid.

Her blood was splattered all over your face and the stone floor, and you could taste the iron of it on your tongue. You gagged violently, a gross sob ripping out of your mouth.

Changmin stood over you with his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed like daggers, and Bonnie in his grasp. His limbs trembled, his body covered near head to toe in golden ichor and some dark trails of blood from himself. Gold stained his palms and crusted beneath his fingers, and feathers of varying colors stuck out of his hair dampened in sweat and more blood.

The sword clattered to the ground and you startled.

Relief came crashing over you and you attempted to push yourself off the ground, but crumpled under your near shattered wrist.

"Yn," Changmin breathed, collapsing onto his knees before you and crushing your face to his chest. You fell apart—oh god, it was the breaking of a dam. His grip tightened around you, cheek pressed against the top of your head. "Fuck, I thought I lost you. Hey, we're—shit, we're okay. I got you."

For a moment, you let yourself fall apart against him. All of the fear and adrenaline dissipated into body tremors and tears.

You could feel his grip on you loosen, and you took that as a signal to pull back.

You knew the signs well enough by now—how his eyes drooped and fought to stay open, how he swayed with his world tilting on its axis. "Changmin, how much energy—"

"Had to… had to get to you," he slurred. He crumpled, and you struggled to keep him upright with your one good arm. "I don't—know—I'll be fine."

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was your face, scrunched in worry, haloed by the lights over your head. Yeah, you were safe now, and so was he.

#15—FOUR LETTER WORDS.

JI CHANGMIN CAME TO GROGGY AND LIGHT-HEADED. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was, because the last thing he could remember was defeathering an angel prick one stupid bird feather at a time. He made sure each one hurt.

Why? Why had he done it? It was—it was for information. Information about what? …it was… it was about—you. He was trying to find where their friend had taken you. You—

His eyes shot open and he jolted upright, a groan escaping him at the way his entire body ached.

He collapsed back against the armchair he sat in and took in the room. He didn't recognize it at all. The drapes were too heavy and embroidered with gold flowers, the floor looked too polished and expensive. The couch sectional adjacent to him was made of leather too soft to be the one from Sena's safehouse.

The room was dimmed slightly with only the lamp next to him providing light.

He smacked his lips together as he recognized the taste on his tongue. It was metallic and thick; he'd tasted it before, could name it blindfolded at this point.

Where were you? You'd dripped blood into his mouth while he was out, hadn't you? He didn't remember drinking it or—

Something rattled when he tried to move his left arm.

He glanced down at his wrist hanging over the side of the armchair to find that he was cuffed to the lamp next to him with a sterling silver necklace. It was made of chunky links, the band twisted in a figure eight with his wrist in one side and the lamp in the other so it would tighten around him every time he tried yanking.

Smart.

He sighed. Great.

The sound of a throat clearing drew his attention away and to the far reaches of the living room. You stood just where the light touched you, one wrist wrapped in something like gauze and Band-Aids littering your face and body.

His chest tugged and lurched painfully at the sight of you. You were so badly hurt when he finally got to you, but he had got to you nonetheless. He had grabbed Bonnie and ran.

"Feeling better?" You asked him.

His voice was scratchy and he coughed. "Y—yeah. Kind of. I'll survive." He could feel his body stitching itself back together. He would definitely survive.

The angel bitches had reignited the pain in his broken ribs before, but it was slowly being mended again. They were all strange sensations.

"You're okay?" He asked, swallowing. He didn't know what he'd do if you weren't. You seemed okay standing so far away. Why had you… why had you chained him to the lamp? Why were you so far away?

Your nod was slow and you braided your arms over your chest. He noticed Bonnie leaning up against the wall next to you and the damned pendant still hanging from your neck. Only there was an extra chain beside it with the second half present too, the halves facing away from each other. "For the most part, yes," you said. "Scrounged up some things around the house to tape myself back together. Mentally and emotionally? That's a little different."

He had heard what Mika said to you right before he lopped her head off. "I can imagine. I'm sorry," he murmured. "I don't regret doing that."

"Beheading her?"

"Yeah, that." And he would do it a thousand times over if it meant you would live.

You glanced down at the floor for a moment. "I need you to be honest with me."

He let out a breath. "Okay."

"Why did the demon who attacked me at my apartment call you Your Disgrace?"

Changmin's blood froze over like the lakes in the seventh circle of Hell. Something akin to panic clawed at him from the inside and up his throat, and every instinct of his was telling him to shut down, reel back the drawbridge, and lock the gates.

But this was… this was you. You asked him to be honest. There was something in the way you looked at him, the careful mask you'd put on, that told him to fight whatever cowardice was trying to shine through.

He wrestled down another swallow. "My family—my father is a Duke of Hell. I'm the youngest of my family, but the only boy—" Changmin's knee bounced up and down to channel his nervous energy toward something else. "—and I didn't want the responsibility of being his heir or to be associated with any of that. I wanted freedom."

He could still remember the day he decided to run away. It was stupid that he thought he wouldn't get caught.

He bit down on his tongue so hard it bled. "Long story short, my sisters saved me from punishment, and my father did the one thing I wanted him to—disown me. I was banished from my home and exiled to the mortal realm." He pursed his lips and made a weak, vague gesture.

It wasn't a history he was proud of. For the first few years, it was all he wanted and more. But family was still family, and sometimes it was impossible to fill certain voids. Even for a demon.

Your voice carried across the room, "Did you ever consider trading the amulet to get back in your family's good graces?"

"How did you—"

"Yes or no."

His shoulder sagged. "Yes."

"Did my sister know?"

"Yes." He hated every single second of this conversation. Every yes he pushed out, he could feel your voice getting colder.

You cocked your head to the side. "Did you know how I related to the function of the amulet?"

"Yes," he said. "But it wasn't until you said it matched your heartbeat at the safehouse."

"And when did you plan to betray me?"

He gripped the arm of his chair. "I didn't—"

"Don't lie," you snarled.

His mouth snapped closed and he moved back like a flinch. His eyes shut for a second, before opening again to fixate on you. "I'm not lying," he drawled. "When I opened Sena's parting letter, I dropped any will to trade that thing to beings like my parents. I swear on my immortal life, Yn, I never intended to betray you at any point."

He didn't know how to get through to you. He didn't know how to convince you. Who was he but a creature of evil? He understood why you wouldn't be able to trust anyone, especially after the events of the past week. You were doing the best that you could… but fuck, you were so far away.

He'd fucked up.

You were quiet for a moment, and he couldn't read you. When he first met you, he thought he could read your thoughts and emotions like an open book. But now, it was near impossible.

"Okay."

A single word. Who knew four letter words could make him feel like this. "Okay?" He echoed, uncertain. Hope was so dangerous a feeling.

You nodded your head, shoulders lifting and dropping with exhaustion. "Okay," you repeated. "I believe you."

"You believe me? Why?" He asked against his better judgment.

You exhaled. "Well, for starters, you could have killed me like Mika tried to. You could have broken through that chain at any point, but you haven't. It's flimsy as Hell."

He glanced down at the silver chain around his wrist and gave it an experimental yank. It hadn't even occurred to him to break free; he hadn't the reason to. He was safe.

"And second," you continued, drawing his attention again, "you haven't given me any reason to not believe you." He didn't want to mistake the tenderness in your gaze now. Maybe he was seeing things. And it made his chest ache. "There have been so many times where you could have done away with me, but you always came back. For me, and not the necklace. I mean—keeping the necklace with me was one thing, but maybe I'm just stupidly convincing myself that you care."

Changmin shook his head in earnest. "It's not stupid." I do care.

You scoffed, raising a brow. "I sound like the dumbest person in the world, trusting a demon."

He hung his head for a moment, fighting for the right words. He grappled with himself, desperate and uselessly unable to describe the way he felt toward you because in demonic culture, this thing—this yank, this gravity he felt toward you—didn't exist. Demons used, stole, purged, devoured, but never whatever this was. This had to be wholly human.

"Yn," he began, feeling your eyes on him again, "I don't know what it is. And I can't describe it in a way that matters or might matter to you. But I'm—I'm… drawn to you." He wished he could shrink under your gaze, to be swallowed by the earth. Dear fuck, the way you pinned him down with that stare like you could see straight into his soul.

Changmin swallowed. "My chest aches, Yn. I don't know what it is, but it aches when I'm around you, and it aches when I'm not. It aches when you laugh, and it aches when you fucking say my name. And I—" He blew out a harsh breath, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he scavenged for the right words. He wanted it to matter because it had to. He wanted it to matter to you as much as it was coming to matter to him.

"I don't know what it is," he said again uselessly. "But I feel like you could just reach into my ribcage and I would let you. I would let you do whatever you want. Even if you—you wanted to just leave me here. If you would leave content and satisfied, then..." He would watch you go. But he didn't want you to. Please don't leave.

He wondered if he got the message across. He could barely possess half the meaning himself or wrap his head around it.

But he raised his head and watched you limp across the room toward him, his chest stuttering and stumbling the closer you came.

He could see you in the lamplight so much clearer now.

There were scratches all over your body, bandages littering your skin. But your eyes could devour him whole and he would sink forever.

You cupped his face with your good hand, and the organ in his chest flipped. There was a distinct softness to your touch, like the day your hand ghosted over his battered torso on the dock, and the way you tucked your cheek against his shoulder at the motel.

He shuddered, lips trembling.

"I love you, too," you said.

He knew you understood.

You pressed your lips against his, beautiful and perfect. Everything soft and tender he never thought he'd crave for all his life. It all melted into place. You were safe, and so was he.

The passenger side seat dug into your spine and your back molded against it like second nature. The sky was the color of darkened ash sitting at the bottom of a burnt fire pit, and the only light for miles around were the car's headlights. The road was barren, stretching on farther than your eyes could see. The time on the dash read a quarter past three in the morning.

Changmin sat behind the wheel with one hand steering and the other clasped between yours. Your dominant hand was wrapped up in a brace to support your broken wrist bones, and you'd replaced all your bandages with fresh ones. Bonnie was stashed in the back, and Clyde was tucked into your pocket as usual. Neither of you had any more of someone else's blood on your body, but you would feel the effects of the night's events for a while longer.

You were headed back toward Moonstone Creak. It was a place you looked forward to returning to, where Changmin knew you would be safe and happy, and where you knew you could be, too. Once you tied up matters at your old apartment, then matters about moving permanently could be settled.

You were playing it by ear, at this point.

Changmin's thumb ran over the back of your hand, gentle but with purpose. "You should sleep. It's a long way back."

The twin halves of the amulet hung from your neck with an equal, balanced weight. The third piece was tucked into your back pocket. You'd found it stashed among Mika's other accessories in her room. You and Changmin agreed it should be thrown somewhere over the side of a cliff. It needed to be lost and to stay lost.

Maybe you would give the second half to Changmin to wear.

"Why do you like blueberries so much?" You asked him instead of heeding his suggestion, as always. Your mouth opened to yawn, and he passed a sidelong glance at you.

He said, "They were the first thing I ate when I arrived on the mortal plane. They're a reminder of how far I've come."

You turned to him, and he met your gaze for a brief moment. "I didn't expect them to have such sentimental value."

The corner of his mouth curled upward. "That, and they taste good."

You smiled to yourself. "So about Bonnie—"

"I'm not teaching you."

"Asshole."

"Human."

You gave his shoulder a playful shove across the center console and he fought the grin on his face and lost.

He chuckled. "It was never an insult, by the way."

You settled back in your seat and curled your legs up. Brushing your lips against the back of his knuckles, you heard the breath that fell from his lips. "I know," you murmured.

a/n: i realize that you probably have questions... take it as an excuse to come visit my inbox! if you liked this, pls reblog :] thank you so much for reading mwah

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