The weekly trip to Columbia comes to a sudden and prolonged stop one Friday night. Andrew and his car full of teammates are stranded between exits, stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. Due to the amount of emergency vehicles rushing by Andrew assumes that there’s been a truly epic accident ahead.
After waiting over five minutes and not moving an inch Andrew puts the car in park, rolls down the windows, and proceeds to chainsmoke cigarette after cigarette. Neil, keyed up and restless, gets out of the car and runs up and down on the side of the highway, staying close enough so that Andrew can keep an eye on him. Kevin gets out shortly after, complaining about the smoke, and does stretches and lunges on the shoulder.
Nicky pesters Aaron, trying to entice him into playing eye spy until Aaron finally escapes, wandering into the weedy median to call Katelyn. Andrew allows Nicky to scan through the radio stations for about three minutes before kicking him out. Nicky pouts but complies, yelling encouragement to Neil.
With the car quiet and empty Andrew allows himself to sink back in his seat and relax. In the side mirror he watches Neil steadily run towards the car, then he’s past it, his lean form caught in the yellow headlights. On his way back Andrew reaches out and snags his shirt, dragging him to the car.
Neil is barely breathing above normal and his skin is only faintly sweaty. He leans against the window, inhaling second hand smoke with his eyes half-closed.
Andrew doesn’t recall why he stopped Neil, why he felt compelled to keep him close. But it doesn’t matter. Neil stays and Andrew opens the car door to let Neil crawl in and curl up on his lap.
“Junkie,” Andrew says, poking at Neil’s scarred cheek.
“Takes one to know one,” Neil replies.
The traffic jam breaks up twenty minutes later and they continue on their way. Andrew drops Kevin, Nicky, and Aaron off at Eden’s and then he takes Neil home.
A/N: Hello hello hello!! Hurricane Hardy is literally right outside my door - figured I’d write something while school is canceled. I’m really in a not-so-great mood right now and I miss my aunt, so here’s this? Also I ship Mullette I’m not sorry.
T/W: Oh shit this fic’s deep y’all; Angst, hospitals, throwing up??, cancer, character death, sadness, progressive illness, graphic but not in the blood/gore kind of way??
**Disclaimer** Cancer, like a lot of things, can differ from person to person. I lost my aunt to cancer when I was really little, almost eight years ago, and I’m really missing her right now, I’m sorry – so I wrote this stemming from all the stories I’ve been told of her. My most sincere apologies if you know/knew someone who had/has cancer, and are offended by the fact that they had a different experience than my aunt. I only write what I know. Thank you.
Yellow was the umbrella you had had the first time you met him.
Maybe it was because it was his first real interaction he’d had with you after years of buying coffee just to see you or maybe it was because he couldn’t quite admit that it was all over, but he couldn’t get rid of it.
Every time a friend came over, it was shoved away in his closet or under his bed, but any other time, there it was, sitting lazily on the living room coffee table, a constant reminder that you were gone.
“Oh, my God! Holy shit, I’m so, so sorry!” Apologies tumbled from your mouth, the yellow umbrella dropping from your grip as you stumbled back, your boots splashing in the puddles of spilled coffee that littered the ground.
He had been zoned out, walking out of the coffee shop with his drink in hand, when the daffodil-yellow umbrella had attacked him. His coffee had fallen from his grip, landing on the ground and startling him enough to make him stumble back before any of it got on his shoes.
And who else would it be but the very girl he was thinking about. The girl who was twenty minutes late for her shift.
“N- No, no, it’s- t’s okay.” John didn’t even know if his words had been coherent, but he honestly didn’t care.
He was talking to (Y/N) (L/N). The (Y/N) (L/N).
The girl he’d been fawning over since Maria and Eliza had taken him out for coffee that one morning. The girl that made his heart leap every time she looked at him. The girl who had made him refuse to go to any other coffee shop, and, even though he only spoke to her when she asked his name, he felt his chest swell whenever she smiled.
“Oh, thank God none of it got on you.” You breathed a sigh of relief, clasping a hand over your chest and looking the man up and down, making sure you were correct. Your gaze travelled from his shoes to his face, but you did a double-take as your eyes met his. “Wait, don’t I know you?”
He blushed, scratching the back of his neck slightly. “Uhm… Maybe? I come here almost every morning to get coffee.” He shrugged, hoping he came off as cool as he did in his mind.
He did not.
“Uhm… John, right?” You smiled, making his mind go fuzzy and his ears heat up.
Stork is so handsome and moody, so gothic, emo bae
Stork is like a sack of bones in a slimy green oil wrap, toxic yellow eyes big as headlights and skin always slightly damp to the touch, elastic, froggy, only has four fingers on each hand and technically his feet are also hands and he can rip you apart with ease because he's way stronger than humans. he can rip u apart with his feet-hands. his ears are sonar dishes. disinfect your hands before and after touching Stork.
Jon x Sansa. They lock themselves away in the deep of summer.
Driving along the I-90 in the inky darkness, the road is lighted only by the yellow glare of his headlights. He’s had the car serviced just two months ago and he’s thankful for it. Here and now, with a random selection of acoustic hits streaming out of the speakers of his battered Civic-the volume set low so as not to wake Sansa- Jon can only sit rigidly with his hands on the wheel in a conscious effort to avoid doubling back on the hundreds of miles they’ve put between Winterfell and themselves.
It is hardly an irrational urge, not when they’re the ones neck deep in irrationality. Immorality. If Aunt Catelyn could see him now she would have stared him right down the evolution line into oblivion. And Uncle Ned…Jon thinks of the miles, the hours, the days that have passed since their leaving.
Yet, when a hand brushes fleetingly against his thigh Jon chances a look and sees Sansa’s lips curl in a drowsy smile, content to burrow deeper into her seat; one he’d just gotten reupholstered.
(last summer she’d complained about how the peeling leather made her thighs hot and itchy, and bent right over to show him the livid pink marks against the faintly freckled expanse of her skin, and last summer Jon finally accepted the invitation to touch and not just look)
Her Tully blue eyes are lashed dark as Jon’s and brimming with the same emotion as when she cornered him in the house and told him to get the car out of the garage. He can pretend that the fallout is going to be minimal, that his conscience is clean. He can forget the voice clamoring in his head that sounds unerringly like Robb in a rage.
He can forget about a lot of things actually, for these moments when they can share the weight of their family and stop caring beyond the present.
Sansa reaches out a hand and Jon meets her halfway. She yawns a little, her palm warm against his own, and squeezes once, twice, thrice. Jon squeezes back and accelerates into the night.
Cindy turned up first thing as promised and had the truck in working condition by ten. The bill was hefty, but she graciously accepted two hundred gil and an I-owe-you. Back in business, the group of four departed Lestallum, en route to HQ.
Greyson had just eased off the gas, heading into the winding turns before the tunnel when they saw it.
Or at least it’s silhouette in the mist, which in comparison seemed all the more frightening.
A colossal, quadruped beast prowled along the outskirts of the forest treeline, two impressive horns protruding from its corrupt, catlike head. Fangs the size of full-grown men glinted in the truck’s headlights. Incandescent yellow eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
So this wonderful and amazing image belongs to the even amazing artist @jamjams-doodledees check their awesome art! Dont forget to comment and heart!
How old is something before it’s considered history? How long must it sit, buried far from the eyes of time? And why must we dig it up?
“Huh,” I huffed as I read the sort inquiry on the brochure. On the front was a photo of the museum that I stood in. So far I found nothing, but a few pieces on the history of my small town. I lived in a relatively city, known to most as Arcadia Oaks. Mostly simple businesses, a hospital, high school, and a wonderful little café not far from where I lived.
But to most of us who live here, we know it as home.
“Alright class, let’s keep moving. We have lots to see and not enough time.” Our teacher, Mr. Stricklander yelled out over the mingling voices of teens. Mr. Stricklander was an odd fellow, or at least that’s how my mother puts it. Though I conquer with her, that’s not how I would put it. More so, he's… weird.
Really I don’t know how to put it. The man seems like a gentlemen, talks like a gentlemen, even breathes like a gentlemen. But there something different about the man. I just feel it. Maybe it’s the fact that he stands 6’, looks like s textbook college professor. From the turtleneck sweater to the men’s shoes, I’m tellin’ you, something about this man screams weirdness.
Stricklander clears his throat rather loudly in attempt to gain the attention of the class. Doesn’t work. So he put two fingers to his mouth and gives off a shrill whistle. Ow… that hurt. Yet, it works. Fifteen sets of eyes meet his.
“Thank you. Shall we?” He said tersely. The large group of students followed on his heels. I stayed to the back so that I wouldn’t be trampled. Since I could remember, I’ve had this frustrating ability to not be seen. I don’t know if people just don’t like seeing me or they simply can’t. And I absolutely hate it. Though sometimes it does have its pros, such as when fleeing from unneeded confrontations.
“Don’t fall behind Ms. Judges, don’t want you to get lost.” Of course my teacher would be the one to see me. I puffed out my cheeks and turned scarlet from embarrassment. “Yes sir.” I nodded.
A couple of my peers whispered and laughed at me, pointing their fingers in my direction. No discretion in their part. I pulled into myself, but followed. I’ve gotten used to it, but still it hurts.
Stricklander led us to different exhibits. Some interesting, some not so much. I was losing interest very quickly, yawning with boredom. But then we came to one of the last exhibits. Suddenly, all tiredness was gone. I piqued.
It was a glass container, in the middle was a teal blue pillow, and on the pillow was a stone. Really, it looked like a cross between a gem and a stone. It was a small tanzanite, barely the size of my pinky nail. Yet, in terms of this gem, that is quite large.
It would seem that I wasn’t the only one who paid more attention here, a pair of boys were spying the gem with a gleeful look. It was Jason and Erik, two of the world’s dickiest people. Numerous times I’ve come home with bruises to both my skin and pride because of them. It always feel like I’m their favorite target.
I pushed my way through the gaggle of students to the front. Coming face to face with the gem, a shiver ran up my spine. I stared at the purplish-blue stone, the longer I stared the more I saw of the gem. I almost missed how the tanzanite seemed to hold a flame in the center of it. Just the way it glistened and shone.
Stricklander grinned at the enthusiasm the class showed at this certain exhibit. “Can anyone tell me what kind of stone this is without reading the sign?” A hand in the middle went up. Stricklander pointed to it, “Yes, Mr. Palchuk?”
Steve smiled arrogantly, “It’s a shiny stone.” And there went all my faith in humans. I rolled my eyes at his stupidity. A student to my left stifled a laugh by covering their mouth. Steve wasn’t the smartest cookie in the tin. In all honest reality, the dude was an idiot. He was your everyday jock. Wearing a blue polo shirt everyday and parting his hay blond hair.
Stricklander’s right eye twitched comically, “Close but not close enough Mr. Palchuk. Anyone else care to try?” A pregnant pause befell the group of teens. No one was going to answer, so raised my hand.
“Go ahead Ms. Judges.”
“It’s a tanzanite. One of the world’s rarest gem due to how sparsely located they are geographically.” I said timidly, but clearly. Oh now you people see me? Stricklander’s eyebrows rose in surprise. I guess he didn’t think I would know that.
Ha! Take that.
My teacher folded his arms, “Care to elaborate in further detail?” Fourteen pairs of eyes snapped to mine. See me now do we?
“Sure. Like I said before, they are extremely rare because they are only found in small part of Tanzania. Before they are cut the stone look mostly like the one you see here, but when cut, they become more of a blue color,” I motion to the glistening gem. “Though it is said that their prices now will go up even more when the mines are stripped.” A couple jaws dropped. What? So I like shiny things, as Steve puts it.
Stricklander chuckled and thanked me. He told us about this particular gem and why it was here at the museum. Apparently, it was found by the founders of the town back why then, but they didn’t know at the time what gem it was so they thought it held magical properties. For a long time it was lost to the eye of the public for fear of it being stolen, only recently it was reopened for the public.
Glancing to the two boys staring at the gem I could wonder why.
Finally, Stricklander informed us that that was the end of our field trip. Some of us were in walking distance of home while the rest were taking the bus back to school. However, I wanted to stay a little longer.
Waiting for the rest of the class to disperse and then walking up to Stricklander. “Mr. Stricklander, is okay if I call my mom and ask if I may stay a little longer? There are some exhibits that I saw but we didn’t have time for them.”
“Do you have a way to get home?” He asked.
“It’s not a far walk from here to my house. Besides it would be for me to get some exercise. Please?”
Stricklander looked at me from the corner of his eye, contemplated it, “Very well, but call you mother first. I don’t want you to be left here with out her knowing.” I grinned and nodded enthusiastically. Stepping away, I pulled out my phone. I entered my password and pulled up the dial. Mom was on speed dial so I was soon listening to a ring speaker.
:‘Hello?’: Mom’s voice crackled.
I smiled, “Hey Mom, is okay if I stay behind at the museum? There’s some more I wanted to see.”
I heard her setting something down, more than likely a cup.
:‘Sure. Just be home before they lock you in.’: She joked. I smiled and we said our goodbyes and our I-love-yous. I informed Stricklander of Mom’s decision and he bid me farewell, telling me he’d see me on Monday. Thank god today was Friday!
I watched with glee as the rest of my class went their separate ways, leaving me alone here. “Finally, peace and quiet.” I sighed with relief. A quick once over of the museum, I was surprised to find it empty apart from me. I suppose there were some workers here.
“Now what to do,” I tapped my chin. I settled on wondering around the large building. My shoes made a tapping sound that echoed through the hollow hallways. Just to counteract the silence, I started humming a song. And I let my feet take me.
“Okay now I’m lost.” I admitted. Doing a 360’, I didn’t recognize a damn thing. White walls rose up all around me, columns and arches created shadows signaling that it was late. Probably time to get my behind home. If only I can… Ah ha! With glee I rushed to a door that had an 'Employees Only’ sign on it. Maybe I can ask for some directions.
Just as I gripped the cool metal handle a crash came from down the hall. Down the dark hall. I slowly let go of the handle and silently made my way to the location of the crash. Being cautious with my steps, until they were nothing.
When another crash sounded, I pressed myself against the wall. A column was shielding from view. Someone was yelling. Boy did they sound mad! I held my breath at the sound of footsteps. They were a haunting sound.
“I swear those things are the most idiotic beings ever!” Wait, I recognize that voice! Air got stuck in my throat as Mr. Stricklander walked out from the room directly in front of me. The one that was only separated from me by the thick column.
If I was a animal, I’d be pinning my ears to my head in an attempt to hide better. But I was up against a wall.
Stricklander was acting odd, odder than normal. He was pacing and ranting on about some bridge. Was he thinking of becoming an architect? Could be doing some landscaping. Then something freaky happened. He turned to face me, but not see me, and his eyes were freakin’ glowing!
Straight up night lights! Unlike their normal green eyes with the whites they were now yellow, like headlights on a car. There went the neighborhood.
A chill went up my spine. What. The. Hell? What was he?
He grumbled something under his breath before stomping back into the unknown room. I scrunched up my face, did my teacher just throw a fit?
Wait. He’s my teacher. Monday’s gonna be weird…
Mom used to tell me that I got into the most trouble when I was little, said it was because I was so curious. I wanted to know everything and why. Still do get into trouble, but not as much due to the angel on my shoulder.
But I guess my angel wanted to know what was in that room just as much as I did.
Drawing up as much as my fleeting courage, I peeked my head around the column wearily. At first I didn’t see anything other than more walls and columns, but then a light came from the room Stricklander walked into.
I had to see what was in there.
So far I hadn’t been seen, so I peeked out a little further. I saw a little bit of the room, mostly just coverings on the walls. Taking a step out from the behind the column, I saw more. Just I don’t think I was supposed to. Because the moment I saw what looked to be a pile of stone, I noticed Stricklander exchanging a conversation with something that looked like a lovechild between a mountain and a bigfoot.
And that lovechild saw me.
He said something to my teacher who snapped his head to me. I will never forget Stricklander’s expression. A mix between shock and… fear? He yelled something out, but it was too late. I turned foot and ran.
“Shitshitshitshitshit…” I cussed and I ran. The word almost serving as a chant, telling to get my shit together and ran like hell!
I slid around a corner, almost falling, would have if not for stabilizing with my hand. I could hear the lovechild on my heels. Dude sounded heavy.
Dear god, is this how I’m gonna die? Death by evil villain who was corroborating with my weird teachers? Could be worse.
Damn asthma… my chest was already burning. Breathing was getting harder and harder to do. But I pushed past it, my will to stay alive was stronger.
I didn’t know where I was going. I was taking random corners hoping to throw the creature off. But it still kept on my ass. At this point I was tempted to stop and quit. Never was a big runner.
However, I saw an exhibit that I recognized. It was the tanzanite! Which meant the entrance wasn’t far, maybe once I was outside I could loose this lug! With renewed hope and determination I hauled ass to the door.
So close! So close to freedom and life!
I was about two feet from the door handles when the lovechild dropped down from the skies, blocking me. I yelped as I collided with its stone hard body. Ow… that’s going to leave a mark. If I live…
Everything was fuzzy. I must have hit my head.
It was laughing at me. Laughing at me! I gazed up with a dazed look at the creature. Even with the daze, I could see some key features. Such as the yellow and red eyes, dude, those are brighter than Stricklander’s! The creature’s main color variation was black and grey. It hand small tusks that jutted out from its bottom jaw, making me assume it had an underbite. Two horns curved down and in from its head. One looked like it had been broken off, the tip was gone.
Two straps made of something I didn’t recognize crossed over its chest, they met at a kilt like cover. It had its cover decorated with skulls of unknown creatures. On its right forearm is had a band. And two… swords?
It was also buff. Like… REALLY… buff. If I wasn’t so dazed, I’d say it wasn’t bad lookin’. Better than some humans I’ve seen.
I met its glowing orbs and wasn’t scared. Woah. I must have it my head pretty hard. I blinked and tried to push myself away from the creature. But then it spoke.
“Keep running. I like a good chase.” Oh. My. God.
With a voice like that, I’m good right here. Dear lord I sound like a hormonal teenage girl, oh wait, I am one. I giggle drunkenly at my joke. The creature furrowed its brows in confusion.
“Help me up and I’ll get back to running.” I huffed.
“Why would I help you when I’m just gonna kill you?” It asked snarkly.
I stuck my tongue out at it. Fine be that way, then I wont be going anywhere with you. I shakily got to my, thinking I was doing it gracefully like a deer, in reality, I looked like a newborn giraffe. When I started to tremble, I boldly put a hand on tall dark and stone.
Now stabled, I took some steps. Only to fall back on the ground.
“You know this ground is actually comfier than it looks. I think I’ll go to sleep right here.” I yawned and curled into a ball.
A pair of footsteps came running in mine and the creature’s direction. I was too tired to see who it was. All I wanted was sleep. And damn it, I was gonna get some.
“What happened?!” Oh it was Stricklander. He sounded exasperated, maybe from running? The creature leaned over my curled up form. I hummed and rolled over to look back at it.
“This fleshbag’s still alive… I’ll grab her.”
“Don’t eat her, Bular.” Stricklander’s voice was commanding. Even more than he is in school. He’d been holding out no me, I feel so offended.
Wait. He said the creature’s name. Bular… actually that’s a cool name. Cool name to go with a cool creature.
“I won’t.” Bular stated as he leaned closer to my face. His features were shimmering away in black particles, along with everything else. Slowly, my sight turned dark.
// what was originally supposed to be a scenario turned into this instead? inspired and based off this video HERE.all credits for the video go to @hoon-seok
// warnings: blood, fighting, cursing?? (like once i think), mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, bdsm JK THEY JUST TYING EACH OTHER UP LMAO
// sneak peek: “Dunno. Y/N gave it to me with specific instructions to hand it off to you and not to look at it. So I didn’t.” Seungcheol dazedly nodded, still staring at the USB. “And don’t you dare ever pull one of those little tricks on my gang again. If you do… I’ll kill you. And there won’t be a cat eyed boy with a couple of explosive toys to save you next time.” S.Coups looked up at Rap Monster with a hard glare, his jaw set. And he turned around, and left.
The night air was hot and suffocating as it almost flared in through the open window of the black van, and Seungcheol huffed as he ran his hand through his hair - he could already feel it sticking to his forehead with sweat.
Out of all the places Bangtan Boys could’ve used as a hideout, it had to be out in the middle of nowhere with desert for miles as far as Seungcheol could see. He adjusted his sunglasses before turning to look over at Mingyu who sat next to him. The boy was stoic as usual, and Seungcheol sighed. Really, it hadn’t been his wound that had changed him - as a leader, S.Coups knew that. It was the disappearance of Y/N, and her sudden loss in their lives.
“How are we doing on time?” Seungcheol spoke up. Junhui, who was driving, looked over at Minghao who sat in the passenger’s seat. The younger Chinese boy picked up his phone and texted four words to Hoshi - he was with the other six members in the second black van.
What time is it?
He received a reply immediately - 10:10 - and Minghao raised his head from his phone, stuffing it back in his pocket as he answered without a second’s beat.
“Ten minutes ahead of our original scheduled time. The rest are two miles behind us, and we’ll be there in eight minutes.” Seungcheol bit his lower lip, turned to look back out the window as the hot wind beat down on his face.
There was no denying the fast pounding of his heart. He was excited - Seungcheol always loved to fight with Bangtan Boys, and, after the initial span of time he hadn’t fought for a while, it was pretty obvious he was looking forward to this one. But he was also scared. Scared of what he might find, scared of the conditions Y/N might be in, scared of what she thought of him. He licked his lips and tasted blood. S.Coups shook his head with a quiet chuckle - he’d actually drawn blood from his very own lips.
With an inhale of breath that burned his lungs with the hot desert air, Seungcheol slouched in his seat. Eight minutes turned out to be longer than he had originally expected.
Soon, the smooth pavement of the road turns gravelly and uneven, and Seungcheol is shaken awake from his half asleep stupor to make out a blue freight car in the distance slowly growing in the dim yellow of the van’s headlights.
“Is this it?” S.Coups asks, leaning forward in his seat, and he pulls off his sunglasses. Jeonghan nods from where he sits next to Mingyu - he’s been gossiping and bickering with Joshua, but they seem to have forgotten each other in the anxiousness of seeing Y/N again.
“This should be it.” Jeonghan assures. “It’s the place JinJin directed us to, after all.” Joshua smirks, and he can’t help but chuckle as he fixes the sleeves to his jacket.
“Even if he was lying to us, I’m sure there’s a better way I could get the information out of him again even faster.” The atmosphere in the van cools at that, and Minghao swallows before speaking up.
“Hoshi says it’s 10:00. They’re right behind us, and Woozi’s positive this is Bangtan Boys’ hideout.” Jun pulls up near the blue freight car, and he puffs a breath from his lips as he turns the car off. His hands fall to his lap, and it’s pitch dark as Seungcheol hears the second van pull up behind them.
There’s a long silence. They must all be thinking the same thing with that same frightening desire to see Y/N again in the pit of their stomachs. Nobody says anything. They all just turn to look at the blue freight car, somehow being able to distinguish it even in the pitch blackness of the night. It’s Jun who breaks the silence.
“She’s in there.” It’s quiet again, and Minghao sighs before responding.
“Let’s hope that’s true.” Then, he opens the door to the passenger’s seat, and climbs out of the van without a second word. The air is hot and stuffy, and Minghao almost feels suffocated by it. He pulls at his tie, trying desperately to loosen the collar of his shirt. A second door shutting is what catches his attention, and Minghao turns for a split second to catch Jun walking over to stand next to him. Together, they both stare at the freight car. A dull noise is pouring from it, and Minghao knows Bangtan Boys are the party type while he distinguishes the word FIRE amongst the upbeat music.
“S.Coups wants us to go ahead and invade the freight car.” Jun informs him. Minghao bites his lower lip as he stuffs his hands deep into his pockets. “The only others staying behind will be Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Joshua.” Jun turns to the second van, and brings out his hands to shape out their signature form - a number one with his right pinky, and a seven with left thumb and index finger. After a brief half second, the others start to spill out of the second van. Jun turns to Minghao with a half smirk. “Are we ready?” Minghao breathes out a half hearted laugh, and he glances at the ground before looking back up to the freight train.
“Honestly… I don’t think we’ve ever been.” He smiles at Junhui. “Let’s save Y/N.” He turns to Vernon, gestures at the back of the first black van. “Get the ropes out of the trunk.”
Music immediately pours out of the freight car when Jun slides open the door, and a smell that’s vaguely a mix between alcohol, weed, and cheap cologne hits Dino like a memory almost as sweet as his mother’s pastries. He smirks, and hops up to land on the platform of the freight car loudly. With a loud whistle from Woozi whom Dino knows is close behind him, the music stops, and Minghao smiles with a sense of adrenaline.
“Who the fuck -” The voice belongs to Rap Monster - Jun knows it from the millions of times he’s fought with it. But the leader doesn’t get to finish, because the noise of Vernon’s gun shooting and the sharp metallic ting of bullets piercing the roof of the freight car cuts it short.
“Say the name!” Junhui shouts with such a large grin, you can see his canine teeth, and it’s almost like watching a wolf about to feast on his favorite prey.
“Seventeen!” The others shout, and then it’s utterly chaotic as the nine boys jump into the freight car, and absolutely trash the place.
Vernon and Wonwoo subconsciously partner up together, and they’re stalking through the freight car like they downright own it. But nothing seems to take their interest - not the members of Bangtan Boys still in remote shock, not the expensive liquor that looks too divine, not even the heap of cash lying on a circular table, forgotten mid count.
It’s a sudden sharp pain in Hansol’s cheekbone that stops the both of them abruptly, and he winces as he grabs at his face. Vernon pulls away his fingers to see blood there, and he hisses before looking up for the attacker, and there he is - Jeon Jungkook.
He’s the youngest in the gang, and, in a way, Vernon kinda feels for the guy, because he knows what it’s like to be one of the younger ones. But it doesn’t ease the anger that’s rising in his stomach, and he snarls almost like an animal. Jungkook settles back into a fighting position with his blade gripped tight in his hand, but, in reality, it’s not a blade. It’s a shard of glass that’s cutting his hand and has blood stains all over it.
Wonwoo hums with a raised eyebrow as he finds a broken vase behind him. It looks ancient - expensive - and yet, there it is, in a pile on the floor in pieces. One of those pieces in Jungkook’s hand with an aggressiveness that makes his eyebrows furrow. Wonwoo almost grows the littlest bit of respect for him, but then remembers their reason for being here in the first place. The mental image of Y/N in his mind’s eye fuels him to pull the rope out of his back pocket.
Wonwoo wraps each end around his hands, pulls the rope taut and tight as he steps closer with Vernon right next to him.
“You really shouldn’t have done that.” Wonwoo chastises, and he smirks. “You see… I’m pretty protective over the people I like. And what you just did to Vernon… I won’t condone it.” Jungkook snarls, and he hops forward on his feet whilst wielding his shard of glass.
“You’re the ones who shouldn’t be here in the first place.” Jungkook banters back. “Tell me, what have we done now that’s got Seventeen’s peeking eyes all over us this time?” Vernon presses his lips tightly together.
“I think you know.” And with that, he pushes at Jungkook’s sternum with the heel of his hand, knocks the blade out of his fist to clatter to the floor. Wonwoo uses the distraction to his advantage, and he ties up Jungkook’s wrists with the rope in only a few seconds. But the young boy is strong, and he’s kicking out with his feet, and almost nails Vernon right in the kneecap with a force that would’ve been too painful.
Wonwoo quickly pushes the rest of the rope at Hansol, and pushes Jungkook down so harshly, the breath is knocked out of his lungs. As Jungkook tries to recover from the initial pain of hitting the metal floor so hard, Wonwoo climbs on top of him as he straddles his waist. He holds his tied wrists with one hand, takes a grip of Jungkook’s throat with the other.
“Hurry up!” Wonwoo orders, and Vernon swiftly ties his ankles together with little trouble. Once Jungkook’s recovered, he lazily smirks, taking slow breaths to control the tightness of Wonwoo’s hand against his throat.
“I bet you’ve done this before, haven’t you, big guy?” Jungkook murmurs quietly with a wink, and Wonwoo presses his lips tightly together.
“Vernon?” He asks. Hansol pulls his gun out of the waistband of his pants, and points it at the youngest member of Bangtan Boys.
“Already on it.” But Taehyung was reckless, and he often acted before actually thinking. So when he lunged forward from his hiding spot behind the couch to help his friend, it only took a warning shout from Vernon to alert Wonwoo of it before he elbowed out to stop V by the shoulder.
V fell onto his back, but he held his gun up nevertheless, steady with his finger on the trigger like he’d never been knocked down in the first place.
“I don’t think so,” The sudden murmur proved to come from Jun as he rounded a corner with rope in his arms. He licked his upper lip before harshly kicking the gun out of Taehyung’s hand, and Wonwoo smirked. “Let’s quit treating this like a play date, yeah?” Leaning down, Junhui grabbed V by his collar before roughly pulling him up to stand.
“Maybe it wouldn’t be so much of a play date if we didn’t have to deal with a bunch of children like you.” V spit back, grinding his teeth after Jun had slammed him against the wall. The Chinese boy scoffed with a small smirk, nodding over his shoulder.
“If that’s right, then why does my boy have one of your friends over there?” V looked over Jun’s shoulder where a brunette boy was kneeling on the floor in front of J-Hope who was tied up and bloody. It was Junhui’s chuckling that brought V back to his current situation. “Now, this is what’s going to happen. You’re gonna sit still like a good boy while we do our thing. Any disruptions from you, and I’ll make sure you don’t talk again. Got it?”
V only bit his lower lip with a grunt. He rolled his eyes as Jun used the rope to bond his wrists and ankles together. When he was finished, he turned over to Minghao who was still kneeling in front of J-Hope.
“You got him?” Junhui called out. THE8 looked up for a brief second before flashing a smile in confirmation. He went back to facing Hoseok, and Minghao tried his best to look comforting at the very least.
“Let’s try this again,” He murmured, rubbing his thumb along J-Hope’s lip to rid it of any more blood he himself had caused. “Where’s Y/N?” Hoseok was breathing heavily as he spit out even more goopy blood, his lips burning with the cut caused by Minghao’s harsh hit.
“I already told you - it’s not my place to spill. You wanna know what’s going on? Talk to the boss about it.” Minghao clenched his jaw, and with one last push of energy, brought his fist to J-Hope’s jaw in a strong punch. Not bothering to wipe the blood that had spilled out of his lips this time, Minghao rose to his feet, sighing as he spotted Hoshi and Seungkwan working together across the room. He smirked. Because there, his two friends were mercilessly tying up another member of Bangtan Boys - Jin.
“Keep it quick,” Minghao shouted across to the two boys. “S.Coups wants this done fast. We can’t afford to waste anymore time.” Hoshi turned around to grin at him, and only nodded in response.
“We’ve got this covered, THE8.” He assured. “Start doing a sweep of the place.” He watched Minghao walk off to meet Jun before they started to cautiously inspect the freight car, making sure there weren’t any traps or weapons that could potentially hurt their group.
“You think you’re finally going to calm down, Kim Seokjin?” Seungkwan spit at the boy who sat at their feet, wrists tied behind his back. Soonyoung turned his attention back to the two as the Bangtan Boys member snarled, spitting at their feet.
“It’s Jin,” His tone of voice was sharp, and there was no denying the purple bruise left on his plump lips would soon be bleeding if he wasn’t more polite. “The only people who have real authority to call me Seokjin are those whom I find worth it. And the children of Seventeen will never find their way onto that list.” Soonyoung scoffed, chuckling as he rolled his eyes.
“Trust me, pretty boy, we didn’t want to be part of that list anyway.” He paused, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “Now, how many of you are left that we haven’t captured yet?”
“You think I’m spilling?” Jin muttered. “You’ll be lucky if you catch Suga. He’s not as sweet as he might look.” Seungkwan couldn’t help but roll his eyes, already tired of the situation as he pushed up his sleeve. Without warning, he brought his fist down onto Jin’s chin, snagging his lip with his ring, blood already beading there on the delicate skin.
“Quit talking,” Seungkwan murmured, cleaning his knuckles of any bloody residue with a handkerchief he fished out of his jacket. “I’m tired of hearing your voice.” A loud ruckus caught his attention, and Seungkwan turned around to see Jihoon push Suga forcefully against a wall so harshly that a nearby six pack of expensive liquor fell off the table and to the floor with a crash. The corner of Seungkwan’s lips turned up in a smirk, and he quietly chuckled.
“Well,” Soonyoung began, amused. “Looks like you’ve overestimated your sweet boy.” He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and pulled it out to see a text message from S.Coups - one that wasn’t too promising. Hoshi frowned, pushing the cellphone back into his pocket as he shouted across to Jihoon. “We don’t have much more time!” He warned. “S.Coups wants this done in ten minutes. Finish it up, Woozi!” The younger boy snarled in response, rolling his eyes as he dodged yet another lunge from Suga’s knife.
“Don’t worry,” He shouted back, not bothering to look behind him at Hoshi. “I’ll end this fast.” Suga tauntingly laughed, holding out his dagger as he swiftly blocked one of Woozi’s attacks.
“What makes you so sure about that?” He murmured, voice deep and eyes crinkling in all the right ways to make him look even more psychopathic. “Besides… this whole ordeal is a little unfair, don’t you think? After all… haven’t you learned your manners? What ever happened to respecting your elders?” Jihoon narrowed his eyes, suddenly lunging forward and pinning Suga to the wall. His knife fell from his hands and clattered to the floor, and it only made the intensity of Jihoon’s sudden anger all the more worse.
“I don’t think I’ll ever show respect to you, Min Yoongi. Especially not after you’ve stolen someone Seventeen as a whole have sworn to protect forever.” A mildly confused expression fell over Suga’s face, but he didn’t have much time to ask Woozi to explain before he was kneed in the stomach, and tied swiftly together to prevent any more movement.
“Let’s just get this over with.” Woozi sighed, running his hand through his hair. “How many of you are left?” But Suga didn’t have to respond before Woozi looked over and saw Dokyeom standing over Jimin, already cleaning his bloody hands with an old rag he’d found lying around. Jimin was tied up and beaten as he sat against the wall, and Woozi smirked. “Are we done here?” He called over to Seokmin. DK laughed as he looked back at him.
“I’d say we are.” He murmured in response, letting the rag fall to Jimin’s feet. “It’s your call, Vernon.” Hansol looked up with a small smirk from across the room, and gripped his gun just a little bit tighter.
“Macs are,” He shouted loudly, his voice echoing off the walls of the blue freight car. Immediately, the rest of the Seventeen members pulled guns out from their jackets, pointing them at the members of Bangtan Boys.
“Fully loaded!” They shouted in unison. Junhui looked over at Dino who’d trapped Rap Monster long ago, his wooden baseball bat pressed tightly against his throat to the point of almost choking him with a sharp knife pressed threateningly against the base of his spine.
“This is the stupidest thing ever.” Rap Monster muttered under his breath, teeth grinding in his angry frustration. Dino chuckled, smirking as he pressed the knife into his back a little more forcefully in warning.
“I thought we’d already set down the rule about no talking?” He murmured. “Let’s keep it that way, Namjoon. I wouldn’t want to cause any… problems.” He paused, smirking at the sound of Rap Monster sharply inhaling at the feeling of the baseball bat against his throat pressing tighter and cutting his breathing. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to let you go, but you’re staying right here. And while I’m making a phone call to our leader, you’re going to wait patiently until he comes in. Deal?” He took the silence Rap Monster had offered as an agreement, and slowly lowered his weapons as he backed off.
Jun, who had been standing nearby after having finished stripped the place of any weapons with Minghao, brought his phone out from his pocket and tossed it at Chan, who’d caught it without hesitation. He opened up a new text message, typing something in before sending it off to S.Coups, the words NO F.U.N. printed digitally on the screen before he’d tossed it back to Junhui.
Only a couple seconds had passed before the sound of loud stomping and feet against the metal floor of the freight car echoed against the walls. Soon followed Joshua’s unmistakable laughter, and then the rest of Seventeen were standing right there before them - S.Coups in the middle like a true leader with Jeonghan and Joshua at his sides, Mingyu lurking behind them with an intimidating glare.
Almost immediately, Rap Monster pulled out a gun from the waistband of his jeans, and brought it up as he pointed it directly at S.Coups, his finger dangerously twitching to pull the trigger. Jisoo took the opportunity to jump in right away, and he quietly laughed to himself.
“A pistol?” He murmured, amused. “Tell me it’s full of water, and I’ll excuse your behavior on the behalf that you’re six again. Besides… I’m much more a fan of explosions, aren’t you?” Joshua reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out two grenades that looked old, but still very much effective. There was a psychotic smile on his face that only told Namjoon Joshua wasn’t afraid to kill everyone and himself in the freight car at that very moment. He gulped.
“Call it off, Rap Monster.” S.Coups spoke up, stepping forward as he brought his hand out of his pocket. “Give up your gun.” He muttered, hand held out and waiting. Rapmon licked his lips, staring at the grenades first in Joshua’s hands, and then over at Dino whose jaw had set in his angry state with a tight and menacing grip on his baseball bat. He cleared his throat, and shamefully handed the gun over to S.Coups.
“Good,” Seungcheol murmured, a small smile toying at the edge of his lips. And then, with sudden fierce that had clearly surprised everyone in the freight car, S.Coups reached for Rap Monster’s collar of his shirt, and pulled him closer so they were face to face, the barrel of his gun pressed against his neck. The silver was cool and made Rapmon gulp as he gritted his teeth, eyes set angrily on S.Coups.
“I want answers, Namjoon.” Seungcheol calmly spoke. “We know Bangtan Boys took Y/N, and we wanna know where she is. You’re gonna tell us where she is right now, or I’ll kill you. What sounds more promising, Rap Monster? Giving up the girl… or having your blood and trace all over this freight car?” Rapmon bit his lower lip, keeping calm throughout the scene. He could feel his member’s eyes on him, awaiting the next moves to come out of this dramatic problem.
“Your little pet, Y/N?” He taunted. “She’s gone, S.Coups. Said sayonara with the wind. She played you. All thirteen of you. And now she’s doing the same with another seven.” There was a long silence, Seungcheol opening his mouth as he tried to say something - anything - but nothing could come out.
“What are you trying to say?” Jeonghan asked, poison laced in his every word as he stepped forward. Namjoon smirked, licking his lower lip as he chuckled.
“What I’m trying to say is that… Y/N played all of you. All the time and energy she spent with you? It was all an act - the girl’s an actress. She stopped by to say hello for a day or two, and then moved on. Rumor has it she’s with GOT7, now, doing the same thing to them that she’s done to you.” He laughed, pausing. “Leaving them broken hearted, I guess.” S.Coups lowered the gun that had been so firmly planted against Rap Monster’s throat moments before, and he couldn’t help but stumble backward at the newly found information on the person he’d involuntarily grown to love most. Jeonghan moved forward to catch him before he could fall.
“If this is all a big lie to -” Mingyu began, but he was cut off by Rap Monster’s loud laughter and sudden talking.
“Are you kidding? You think I’m lying to you? She’s the big lie! It was Y/N all along!” There’s a long silence that’s dangerous and hot, and Rap Monster sighs before gently smiling. “Look, if you wanna check it out yourselves, you can. I happen to know where GOT7’s new location is at - some kind of deserted building they’ve taken to jumping off of. They’re calling it their, ‘Flight Log: Departure’ era. But if you want the location, I can get it for you. No hassle, man.” Seungcheol looked up, only nodding with an expression that was still too utterly forgotten. He cleared his throat, licking his lips.
“Back to the vans.” He ordered loudly. The rest of the boys seemed to be confused until Jeonghan spoke up.
“Didn’t you hear him?” He hissed. “S.Coups said to head back to the vans. Let’s go!” Quickly, the boys of Seventeen filed out of the freight car, following the leader’s orders. Seungcheol was the only one left when he’d decided to follow after his gang, but the sound of Rap Monster’s voice stopped him.
“Before I forget,” He mused, digging into his pocket before pulling out a single silver USB. “She gave this to me. Wanted you to have it.” Rapmon tossed the tiny device at Seungcheol, and he caught it in both hands.
“What’s on it?” He asked, staring at it for a long moment. Rap Monster shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Dunno. Y/N gave it to me with specific instructions to hand it off to you and not to look at it. So I didn’t.” Seungcheol dazedly nodded, still staring at the USB. “And don’t you dare ever pull one of those little tricks on my gang again. If you do… I’ll kill you. And there won’t be a cat eyed boy with a couple of explosive toys to save you next time.” S.Coups looked up at Rap Monster with a hard glare, his jaw set. And he turned around, and left.
Later that night, when Seventeen had finally arrived back at headquarters, each boy had respectively gone back to their own dorm, the gloom of not yet having Y/N with them settling in and changing the mood for the rest of the night.
S.Coups had kept the USB the entire time, and he’d ran his fingers on the cool silver over and over again until he almost couldn’t feel it in his hands anymore. He hadn’t told any of the others about the USB - instead, he’d kept it a secret. Almost like a secret Y/N herself would’ve whispered in his ear and begged him not to tell anyone else. So he didn’t.
But when the clock struck 4:09 in the morning, and S.Coups had stared at the slab of diamond and USB on his desk for more than a few hours, he’d given up. He’d given up, and held the USB tightly in his hand as he made his way to Woozi’s dorm.
Thankfully, the younger boy was still up - it seemed he was always awake these days. All S.Coups had to do was hand over the USB with a gentle murmur of Y/N’s name for Woozi to immediately figure out what was on the device.
It was encrypted with code - protected so that it was almost impossible to get through and see what was so important on the drive. But after a few minutes of messing around with different codes and words, Woozi had gotten through the security, and was utterly confused at what he’d found.
Because all that was on the USB was a single audio file.
Jihoon looked over at S.Coups with a wary raise of his eyebrows, but the leader looked more set than ever as he leaned forward in his seat.
“Play it.” Woozi licked his lips, and cautiously clicked on the audio file as it loaded and then finally began to play. And he felt his heart utterly break at the sound coming from his laptop.
It was Y/N’s voice. It was her voice. But it was broken, and cracked, and sounded much like she’d been crying for far too long. From the moment her sobbing voice had croaked, “This commences Project Shining Diamond,” S.Coups and Woozi were hooked, closing their eyes and holding their breaths almost as if it would help them hear her voice even more clearly.
She read a poem. A poem that S.Coups would soon find he’d never forget - one that would play again in his head the same exact way she’d read it at the time.
“A tale of boys that began as thirteen Will undoubtedly fall when the other one comes A tale of boys and a girl as fourteen A prophecy in death and pain it sums
“In the month of October blood will be spilled A revolution so carefully planned will burn All but one will not be killed A battle of love he will refuse to learn
“A tale of lovers who were once fourteen Will crumble apart when only one is seen”
a train on the tracks destination: somewhere else than here, in a town that never sees behind the smoke curtain i gaze into the darkness the years sigh behind my back
going along the seams the spine of europe and disenchantment motherland, fatherland dozen unknown faces in the cars and in the news, you see the wind blows from another direction now
and a village older than my sins you can still smell the burning wood no one looks at you no one speaks your tongue and a city heavy with palaces and tension and meaning they ask you where have you been oh, in places lost in time
i stand behind the yellow lane headlights glowing brighter every second, and for a moment i understand it all the smoke, the tracks, the faces announcements echoing
where is home when home is everywhere on the seams and cracks, spines and bones, bricks and woodwork the knowledge of belonging wherever this path takes me next