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kim-miri · 4 years ago

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HALF(have a little fun) pt. iv

→ one | two | three

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part four / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence

» a/n: helloo~ this is my first write ever, and it’ll probably be a pretty long series. I’m also balancing school and a part-time job so forgive me for slow updates! If you’re reading this, thank you so much for showing interest and please leave comments below with your inputs!

» word count: 3,118

☾iv.

Name: Sayomi Zoldyck 小夜美 | "小" is small | "夜" is night | "美" is beauty |

Hair color: White

Eye Color: Purple

Nen: Manipulator (same exact abilities as Illumi)

Abilities: Same as Illumi Zoldyck - Body Alteration, Hypnotic Spell, Corpse Control, Needle People, Katana

☾iv. part iv: the mafia(1/2)

The ambience within the car was calm, or at least a calm for the situation at hand.

Sayomi was curious about what kind of job she was being forced into, but at the same time, she wanted to maintain her composed facade by staying quiet.

She decided to start with a subtle question. “So… who exactly are you guys anyway?”

The man seated next to her answered without an ounce of hesitation, “The mafia.”

Well, shit. So much for a subtle question.

Sayomi was thrown off by the man’s response for the first time since they’d showed up.

The mafia… what would they want with a nobody from Meteor City?

Her parents had often spoken of the Mafia. They had a reputation of harboring no-name assassins who’d overrun the market with their skill and mass numbers.

No names… Mother once said that the most notorious criminals hailed from the dumps in Meteor City. Because… their records didn’t exist! They couldn’t be traced, but I wasn’t born there. Do they know that?

Sayomi was on edge now, having a vague idea of what they might be planning to do with her. “What, am I gonna be one of the Mafia’s little assassins now?”

The man smirked at her quick deduction abilities. “You’re a bright one I see, Sayomi Zoldyck.” His tone had roughed up at her last name.

He knows.

“Well, seeing that you know who I am. You should also be aware that my family would never let me work for another group, right?”

He moved in his seat, turning to face her slightly as he sensed a long conversation. “And that’s why they left you here? Because they care about you?”

She grimaced at the hard truth behind his words.

In an attempt to hide her deflating ego, she replied an icy tone, “Don’t make assumptions. You people know nothing about my family.”

The man let out a monotonous laugh. “Ms Zoldyck, I’m not trying to start a fight here. We didn’t take you to use against your family or anything of that sort. We simply came to recruit our next line of assassins... and what a coincidence! The family we were following called one day to say they had a proposal for us, and that’s where you came in. It was just the luck of our draw that you happened to stumble upon the exact family of who would’ve been our next assassin.”

Ayame.

The man continued, “So please, rest assured we will not attempt to harm you or notify your family of your whereabouts. That would only be bad for both of us, correct?”

Sayomi nodded in defeat. She hadn’t stopped to think about the possibilities of her captors being a group so far up the food chain.

It’s true I don’t exactly want to go back home anyway. Maybe I’ll stick around and see what happens.

Sayomi closed her eyes as she leaned up against the cool glass of the window. Her head was throbbing from the sudden onset of overwhelming information, and all she wanted now was to let herself drift off into sleep.

Noting the lack of words from the teen beside him, the man made quiet movements to revert back to his original position, opting to stare out the window as the remainder of the car ride went without another word.

Deep in her dreams, Sayomi felt an emotion she hadn’t experienced since she was abandoned.

Happiness.

☾ iv.

Inside Sayomi’s dreams.

Sayomi looked down at herself to see she was wearing the kimono she had on the day her mother left her. There’s no way it could still fit her now, having grown almost half a foot, but there she was.

Fine, black silk ran elegantly down her shoulders, arms, and body. The silver accents shone like moonlight reflecting off of her form, while a shocking violet color made up the wrap around her waist.

“Sayomi! Get your head out of the clouds! If I beat you this time I’m taking your new daggers!”

Her head whipped up at the familiar squeaky voice. “Illumi?” she mumbled.

At the sound of his name, the boy turned back towards her, mid-run. The wide smile on his face was replaced by a frown as he noticed Sayomi’s perplexed expression.

Sayomi said nothing, however, only running towards her twin as she reached out to envelop her ever 10 year old brother in a hug.

But upon contact with Illumi, he vanished into thin air, taking the familiar scene of the courtyard away with him.

In a split second, she was back in Meteor City.

Sayomi blinked twice before slumping down into the sickening piles of junk and filth, sobbing as the absence of her other half sparked her back into reality.

“Ms Zoldyck”, a man’s voice echoed through her dreams.

“Ms Zoldyck”, once again and she opened her eyes-

☾ iv.

Sayomi blinked several times, spotting the reflection of herself slumped against the car door in the window.

It was much brighter now, the sun having risen far overhead while she had been asleep.

She squinted at the scenery whizzing by outside the window, sighing in defeat when she failed to recognize her new surroundings.

“Good Morning Ms Zoldyck. We have about a half an hour left to our destination.”

Bidding a slurred ‘good morning’ to the voice in return as she stretched her limbs, a weight dropped in her chest as she remembered why she was here.

Making use of the time left before her arrival, Sayomi attempted to wake herself further as she mentally prepared for the events to come.

15 more minutes in, and the nature that made up the scenery outside began to clear as Yorknew City came into view.

Worries aside, Sayomi stared at the rapidly approaching city in awe. She had yet to have visited Yorknew City, as her parents had felt she wasn’t ready for the big jobs yet.

But now she faced the megacity at last. She couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of being in the bustling city of Yorknew on her own.

She was like a teenager who had snuck out to the mall while her parents were at work.

There was something so exhilarating about going against her parents’ words, even if it was unintentional. In the back of her mind, she felt crazy for cracking a smile in the situation she was in, but the 16 year old side of her ignored it as she let herself enjoy the moment.

Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought.

☾ iv.

Arriving at their destination, the three black cars pulled up in front of a luxurious hotel.

Sayomi looked up at the building in awe, her breath fogging up the glass as she gaped at the forever extending floors of the hotel.

The driver of her designated car stepped out, followed by the man on her left.

Rounding about the back of the car, the man opened the door on Sayomi’s side, gesturing for her to exit the vehicle.

She quickly obliged, slinging her katana over her shoulder as the men from the other two cars accompanied her into the lobby.

Sayomi was once again awestruck by the interior of the hotel, everything around her seeming to scream ‘high-class’ and ‘wealthy’. It was a stark contrast to the rags she wore, having no other clothes besides the now tiny kimono she’d left back at Meteor City.

Although the mansion was without a doubt far larger and much pricier than the hotel in which she stood, Sayomi was mesmerized by the people, walking around or sitting in groups, their friendly bonds shining through the crowds.

Back at home, Sayomi’s only ‘friends’ had been Illumi and the butlers. She had yet to experience what it was like to have real friends, her parents seeing them only as a distraction to her job.

She was pulled away from her thoughts as one of the men nudged her to keep walking, the group making their way to the elevators.

Stopping in midway through the hall in wait of an elevator, the man who had been sitting next Sayomi in the car spoke up, “Welcome to your new temporary home, Ms Zoldyck.”

Home? I get to stay in this classy hotel?

The man broke through her thoughts once again, “As I told you before, as long as you behave and prove to be a valuable asset to us, we will treat you with the utmost respect.”

Sayomi made brief eye contact with the man, still wary of the offputting kindness they were showing her. Nevertheless, she nodded, not wanting to ruin the rare opportunity.

A loud ding signified the arrival of their elevator, and the same man accompanied Sayomi into the elevator, the rest of the members turning to head back out of the building.

Inside the elevator, the man held two buttons down at the same time, the top two floors: 49 and 50. Sayomi tilted her head, curious of the maneuver. “Why two floors?” she asked.

The man looked over his shoulder at her, raising his eyebrows at her question.

“It’s a secret floor. For the Mafia and our hired assassins. Just above the 50th floor.”

Sayomi’s mouth formed a round O, clearly impressed by the revelation of a secret floor. Just how influential are these people? They have their own floor and everything.

The two of them waited in silence for the remainder of the time, only moving when the elevator arrived at their floor.

Sayomi followed the man out into the hallway ahead, mindlessly reading the different room numbers as they passed her by. 5102… 5104… 5106… 5108-

“Alright Ms Zoldyck, this will be your room for the time being. Inside you’ll find a uniform along with any other supplies you’ll be needing while we’re here. I’ll come back in about half an hour to get you started on the job, so in the meantime please change into the uniform and get settled.” And with that, the man handed Sayomi a room key while explaining how the elevators were locked, meaning she couldn’t escape.

Accepting the room key, Sayomi hummed in agreement before entering her new room.

Room # 5110

Two steps into the room, her heart raced with excitement at the view in front of her.

The room itself wasn’t the impressive part, being a small square with a bed and bathroom. It was the view from the large window in front of her that made her exclaim in delight.

Having grown up on Kukuroo mountain with only the occasional trip to the outside world, the vast city and its bustling streets made Sayomi swoon, her heart restless for a chance to explore the beautiful city.

Noticing the uniform hanging in the closet as mentioned, Sayomi made quick work to change into the fresh set of clothes, ditching her rags.

It was a classic black suit with black dress shoes, matching the clothes of the men that had accompanied her here from Meteor City. The change in outfits restricted the usual placement of her band of needles, and she opted to tuck the band into her pocket instead.

A knock on her door interrupted the silence, as the man asked through the door if she was ready to begin the job.

She replied with a “yes”, moving to sling her katana over her shoulder as she exited the room.

☾ iv.

“When we don’t have specific targets for you, this will be your job.” the man started to say.

Sayomi stared at the walkie talkie now in her hands.

“You’ll be staged as a bodyguard for the VIPs that visit the hotel. It’s nothing hard, just a deal we keep with the management to keep our floor up here a secret” he continued.

She nodded in understanding. A bodyguard, huh. Maybe I’ll at least get some action this way.

“Ah, right. The walkie talkie I gave you will notify you of incoming VIP clients. All you have to do is accompany them with your assigned team to their room, where you’ll stand guard either inside or outside. 50 percent of the time the VIP will have a few assassins after them, but the other 50 percent stay and go with no problems.” He started walking back up the hall to the elevators.

Sayomi followed closely behind, asking a question once she stepped into the elevator. “For those 50 percent- the ones targeted by assassins, I mean. Is it fair game to kill their attackers?”

The man laughed out loud. “But of course, disposing of any attackers would only mean a safer client. Do as you wish as long as the VIP’s safety is ensured.”

The assassin blood that ran through Sayomi’s veins was bleeding through. It seemed her inevitable instinct to kill would always resurface, no matter how sympathetic or innocent she tried to become.

Back down at the hotel’s lobby once again, Sayomi now blended in with the numerous other bodyguards dressed in black suits.

Sayomi’s escort pointed towards the main entrance of the hotel. “Ms Zoldyck, you’ll be stationed with Team 3 over by the fountain right outside. Introduce yourself or don’t, just stand posted until your team is dispatched through the walkie talkies.”

Before she could even respond, the man took off walking back to the elevators, leaving Sayomi to find her way to her post.

Wow, alright then.

Sneering at the man’s abrupt exit, Sayomi tied back her hair, taking a second to compose herself before walking out to the fountain to join her team.

Finding the line of bodyguards quite literally stationed in front of the fountain, the man’s instructions echoed in her head as she decided on the latter, keeping from introducing herself.

The team now had 6 members with the addition of Sayomi, and the others took a moment to size up their new member.

Sayomi did likewise, glancing down the row of suit-clad bodyguards. There were 4 men and 1 other woman, all of them looking to be around their mid-20s.

Talk about a let down, they’re all at best D-ranked assassins.

Unimpressed at the lack of powerful auras amongst her new allies, Sayomi’s shoulders slumped as she turned to face the busy street with a lack of enthusiasm.

Figuring out a way to pass the time, Sayomi settled for analyzing the hundreds of people that walked by. She was curious about the so-called urban culture she had heard so much about from Ayame back in Meteor City.

Though Sayomi wasn’t completely detached from society, she had still spent a large portion of her life either trapped in the mansion or, recently, in Meteor City. This being, she was fascinated by the little things, such as the different types of clothing people in the city wore, or the billboards and neon signs that began to light up the streets as evening fell upon Yorknew City.

I wonder what I’d look like if I wore a dress like that… nah but it’s probably impossible to run in anyway.

Looking down at the modest outfit she wore and back to the woman passing by wearing a rather revealing dress, she pouted.

It must be nice to be able to enjoy the nightlife in a city like this. Maybe when i’m older-

The static sounds of her team’s walkie talkies cut through her thoughts, finally dispatching their assignment for the next few days.

“Team 3. VIP client Adachi Yuto is arriving in less than one minute. The vehicle is a black Maserati and the assigned room will be 4823. Current stay will be 3 days.”

In unison, Sayomi and the rest of the team straightened their postures, now on alert while they awaited the VIP’s arrival.

Right on time at about a minute later, a black Maserati pulled up to the curb in front of the team. A few of the members began walking towards the car, and the rest including Sayomi followed suit.

The driver opened the door to the backseat in front of them, and a man looking to be in his early 20s stepped out, thanking the driver.

Must be the VIP.

Her fellow bodyguards started to move almost automatically, forming a circle around the young man. Sayomi quickly found her spot in the formation, walking behind the VIPs right side as the group made their way into the hotel.

Her team seemed to be far experienced, as they walked straight to the elevators without another word or break in formation. It was a silent trip up to floor 48, the VIP remaining occupied on his phone for the entirety of the ride.

Once arriving at room 4823, one of the bodyguards finally spoke, addressing the VIP. “Mr. Yuto, would you like any of us to accompany you inside?”

The VIP politely declined, only looking up from his phone to briefly thank the team for their hard work.

With the VIP turning in for the night, the 3 day timer began for the team. They would take turns in pairs, staying posted outside the VIP’s room, the others going to get rest before switching in once again.

One of the men volunteered to take the first shift, along with the other woman in group, leaving the rest of them to rest until their shifts came around.

Sayomi was paired with one of the remaining men to take the next shift. He was a stocky, sturdy-looking man, most likely one of the older members of the group from the signs of age evident in his facial features.

Agreeing to come back around to the post 15 minutes prior to their shift, the two returned to their rooms on the 51st floor.

☾ iv.

Sayomi flopped down onto her bed upon returning to her room.

Man, this job is getting boring already.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she decided to get some rest while she could. She had about 4 hours until the shift change, her break being in the most inconvenient time frame.

Sayomi’s shift would be in the dead of night, from 1 am to 5 am.

Not bothering to move underneath the blankets or even untie her hair, Sayomi fell into a deep sleep with her legs dangling off the side of the bed. Her mind and body were both exhausted from the day’s past events, and all she wanted now was to move on from what’d already occurred.

Because the past isn’t important… right?

That’s what she chose to believe for now, but she also knew in the back of her mind that sooner or later the past would come back and find her.

☾ iv.

to be continued.

a/n: my taglist is open!

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lady-plantagenet · 4 years ago

Note

What are your top ten novels about the Wars of the Roses? And why?

I think it’s obvious by the length how enthusiastic I was to answer this ask xx thank you for asking me and giving me also an opportunity to make a masterlist of some sorts of all my reviews xx. But you know? I speak like quite the expert but in reality I’ve read very little histfic about TWOTR because I just newly got back into this hobby (about a year ago) and have little time in general so tbh the last three books on this list I do not personally care for but since I’ve read so little novels of this kind they are here nonetheless hhh (so please people, give me no angry asks asking me why I am endorsing PG, I’m not).

1. The Last of the Barons by Lord Edward Lytton-Bulwer

This is quite possibly the best book I’ve ever read in my life. The gap between these books and the rest is a chasm the size of the world and I wpuld genuinely reccomend this book as an actual piece of literature to anyone, not just TWOTR fanatics. It is written in 1840, in quite old timey lingo and it centres around Richard Neville 16th Earl of Warwick, but in the true tradition of a real classic it is more than just a character drama, it astutely showcases the purpose of Warwick and what he did in the context of his wider world and doesn’t just chalk it up to personal greed. There is also this fascinating subplot about courtship, science and such. Hell, you even get this eccentric ‘natural philosopher’ guy called Adam Warner who tries to make something like a steam engine and gets employed as an alchemist by Jacquetta and Edward IV.

From a historical standpoint it is quite biased as the author himself was a politician (and an actual baron) and tbh I don’t completely agree with his interpretation of history and I can see some of the Victorian inluences slip in, but some of his takes are very refreshing and he clearly consulted the primary sources. I am much interested in his philosophy and life outlook though and while I don’t think his Warwick is the Warwick, I think he (Lytton-Bulwer) understood him like no other novelist could. As for the writing style... here’s an excerpt of a good reads review that I agree with and tells you all you need to know:

“Of course, such a style of writing no longer exists. The language used is essentially foreign to us. But the nobility, the pride of this story work their ways into your bones, your heart. You will yearn for honor once you have left it.“

Basically, go type it into google and see what I mean. You don’t even need to purchase this book it’s all online at the first click on Gutenberg.

Nevertheless, I’ve posted excerpts of it here, here and here =)

2. The King’s Grey Mare by Rosemary Hawley Jarman

This book (unlike the latter) has zero actual historical value. Actually, it sort of does in the way that it hilights certain real events that most people are unaware of when it comes to its protagonist: Elizabeth Woodville, eg the whole Cooke tapestry affair and the whole Desmond affair. Both things which I still stand on the fence about (if you don’t know what I’m talking about send em another ask or pm me). But like, it isn’t political, philosophical or such in any way like the first book, yet you still feel like you are *there* in the 15th century - by the time I finished reading it my heart was wrung dry and I kind of fell into a down for a couple of days because I just wanted to feel the magic again. If anyone would ask me I would give this 5 stars because it perfectly achieved what it set out to do (I can’t expect all books to go above and beyond like #1), it made me feel for the characters who were super complex, was accurate historically and even when it wasn’t it made sense, it got very creative with its themes (which I like to see because I am not interested in reading the exact same story over and over again) and the prose was absolutely magical and brought all the depth to this novel. I’ve read classics with less flowing and poignant prose, yes actual classics!

This book also switches POVs quite a lot (basically it headhops because it’s written in omniscient- but whatever, rules are meant to be broken), so you’ll get to see many of your faves in there, Edward IV, Margaret of Anjou and Grace Plantagenet feature quite heavily. One thing that disappointed me is that it wasn’t really Edward IV/Elizabeth Woodville (at the time I bought it for that), she never really likes him and his love for her kind of wanes towards the end. If you’re not too bothered about that then I say go buy it.

3. The Daisy and the Bear by K L Clark

I put this here because we are already going into shakier territory when it comes to this list. This is kind of the last *really* good, truly five star one. It is a long spoof about TWOTR but god it’s smart! Yet, It does not take itself seriously and has Margaret of Anjou/Warwick the Kingmaker as a crackship and centrepiece and had me in stitches the whole time. I’ve written a long detailed review for it here.

4. Death be Pardoner to Me by Dorothy Davies

This is a novel about George Duke of Clarence. Quite possibly the only novel ever written about him in existence and boy is it a trip - the author claims to have channelled him (she’s a medium). I’ve written a detailed review for it here. I read this last spring and my views have unfortunately changed, the thing is, I’ve come to find out through my research that this was quite possibly a hoax as there are some indisputable inaccuracies (Ankarette Twynyho’s age, the details of Isabel’s death - we *know* she did not die from childbirth, Isabel did not reunite with him after Tewksbury 1471, but right before Christmas 1470). It’s also quite Richardian (the author admitted) and she could have *had* me had she not chose to divulge it in the foreword. Nevertheless, I still like this book because it did get to me at certain points and it’s good quality as a novel, I remember shedding a tear at one point even which is extremely rare for me but I think that says more about my sentiment for the subject matter than the book itself.

5. We Speak no Treason by Rosemary Hawley Jarman (not yet finished, so ranking may vary)

I haven’t finished it yet, so I’ll leave it here for now. This book is a Richardian book about Richard III, but I can’t get enough of this author, I haven’t found anyone to replace her with. The prose is magnificent as usual and I must confess that I’m happy that this book is told through the POVs of three OCs and not Richard, he remains rather elusive and tbf I find the three OCs very interesting and at this point I’m more interested in their stories than anything else. Of course, Richard III is still a fairly prominent part of this novel (even when he doesn’t appear) and it has led to me getting annoyed quite a bit. Given who I am I fumed massively at that one aside that Clarence and Edward have bastards whereas Richard isn’t like that... like are you serious?? At one point the author reassociated the Games and Playes Chesse book to Richard when it was in reality dedicated to Clarence and I got even more annoyed. Leave the poor figure something ma’am? Whatever, as a book about three medieval commoners it’s fantastic and that’s what I pretend it is.

6. Wife to the Kingmaker by Sandra Wilson

Nothing more to add than what I wrote in my (super-long) detailed review on here. This is the case because I read it very recently. This is a novel about Anne Beauchamp 16th Countess of Warwick, it’s ranked higher than Sunne because though it’s less accurate it’s got panache.

7. The Sunne in Splendour by Sharon K Penman

I feel very strongly about this Richard III book and what it represents. I wrote a long detailed review about it on here and a follow-up post on the discussion is here ft my awesome mutual @beardofkamenev ‘s insights also thrown into the mix. Xx

8. The White Queen by Philippa Gregory

This is a step higher than the other two because this book pretty much changed my life. The thing is, I read it translated into my own language by an extremely talented translator and I was also only about 11/12 years old so it was all very impressive to me then. This book about Elizabeth Woodville effectively introduced me to the TWOTR; an interest that has never really left me these past ten years (though at one point (ages 14-19) it was quite wane). It’s not a good book by any standard (I was quite shocked when picking it up at a bookstore, I had found that when read in the original language it lost all its magic), but I owe a lot to it and some people who now endlessly discourse about how bad PG is need to recognise their debt of gratitude and be a bit more respectful, I think. That is of course unless you came into this era via different media, but you got to admit that a massive part of us got to this place through TWQ, though we outgrew it.

10. The Red Queen and The Kingmaker’s Daughter by Philippa Gregory

Exact same commentary as above, just objectively not good books. Flat characterisation, misunderstanding of the era, historical innacuracies which don’t add anything, lack of nuance in prose which often dances too close to *gasp* YA prose *shudders*. But these are lower because I don’t owe them a debt of gratitude as I do TWQ. Funnily enough, they are still better than the series.

#look at rb for tags

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rebel-without-cause-x · 4 years ago

Text

The Secret

Part 12

Jax Teller x OC

Series Masterlist // Masterlist for Jax

2 months had now passed, the tattoo studio hit the ground running, it got so busy you had to hire another artist just to keep up with the demand, especially because you only worked 3 days a week so you could still spend time with Amber and Jax.

Speaking of you and Jax, things was going great, Jax had definitely changed but it was a good change. He was more affectionate than when you was first together and kept to his word about you was the only girl for him.

Leaning against the bar in the club house you smiled taking in the sounds of laughter.

That was until you had the need to puke, pulling your fist to your mouth you legged it to the bathroom making it just in time. Collapsing on the floor resting your head on the toilet seat as you calmed your breathing.

"Baby you okay?" Gemma's voice echoed.

"Yeah I'm fine" you said wiping your mouth before flushing the toilet and walking out to her "must have ate something dodgy"

"Harleigh that's the 4th time you've thrown up this morning, not counting the last couple of days" she said placing her hand on your shoulder "how far along are you?"

"What" you said looking puzzled.

"Baby you are pregnant" she whispered taking in your expression of shock "you've not done a test have you?"

"No because I thought it was just a bug" you shrugged.

"Tell you want I will run to the store and get some tests" she smiled kissing your head leaving you stood in the bathroom alone.

You couldn't believe this, yes things were going well with Jax but throwing another child into the mix, you had no idea how he'd react. Did he even want another kid?

Shaking the thoughts you joined the others back in the club. You hadn't even took 5 steps when you felt Jax place his hands on your hips pulling you into his body.

"You okay darlin', mom said you aren't feeling too great" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"Yeah I'm okay, just got a stomach bug or something" you whispered leaning your head back against his chest. "I will be fine don't worry"

"I can run you home if you want" he whispered into your hair.

"Baby I'm fine" you laughed spinning round wrapping your arms around his neck "I'm okay now"

"If you feel worse I'm taking you home" he said kissing your head.

"Stop worrying" you laughed wiggling out of his arms and sitting back at the bar "Chucky pass us a bottle of water please"

Jax had wandered off somewhere leaving you with Chibs, Tig and Opie.

"It's good to see you smiling again" Tig grinned pulling me into a hug.

"We knew you two would end up back together, the pull between you is insane" Chibs nodded.

"Sounding like a broken record chibby" you laughed sipping your water.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Gemma walked back in.

"Sorry boys I need to steal her" she smiled placing her hand on your shoulder. "Come on baby let's go"

Grabbing your keys you followed her outside.

"Meet you back at yours or mine?" You asked putting your helmet on.

"Come back to mine" she nodded.

The ride back to Gemma's was quiet, your thoughts all over the place. Pulling up on her drive you cut the engine and flicked the kickstand down before pulling a smoke out.

"Really baby" she half laughed raising her eyebrow.

"Just gimme this one okay because i am pregnant this will be my last one for a while" you nodded taking a long drag of the cigarette.

"Meet me inside when you have finished" she smiled before disappearing.

After finishing your smoke you wandered into the house.

"Right let's do this" you sighed

"You not happy about potentially being pregnant again" Gemma asked.

"I don't know, me and Jax have only been together for 2 months, I don't even know if he wants another child" you whispered.

"You know Jax will be so excited about you being pregnant again" she grinned and there was that pang of guilt again.

"Yeah he would because he missed out on that with Amber" you said chewing the inside of your mouth.

"Hey, Jax doesn't blame you for that, none of us do so stop thinking like that. That boy worships the ground you walk on and it's only gonna be a matter of time before you become his old lady" Gemma smiled pulling you into a hug "now go piss on this"

Taking the tests you wandered into the bathroom, leaning against the sink your stared at yourself in the mirror composing yourself before you did the tests.

Walking back out of the bathroom you saw clay leaning against the kitchen side, pulling the tests up into your sleeve you smiled at him.

"Where's gem?" You asked

"I'm here baby" she smiled placing her hand on your shoulder "come on I need your help in here a sec"

She knew clay hated you, apparently you always clouded Jax's brain. But he was the only one to think that.

"I can't look" you whispered passing the tests to Gemma. "What do they say?"

"Baby you are pregnant, about 6 weeks" she grinned pulling you into a tight hug.

"Let's hope Jax takes the news as well as you" you half laughed "fuck I need a smoke"

"I know how scared you are so one last one okay Leigh, if I see you smoking after this I will slap you" she whispered passing you her pack of smokes.

"Copy that" you nodded as you held the cig between your lips as she lit it.

"Now how we telling Jackson?" She asked sparking up herself.

"Thinking at dinner tomorrow, with the shop opening ive not had time to get him a present" you said "I'm sorting ambers present out in the morning, she wants to drop Winston from her name"

"What" Gemma gasped.

"Yeah her words was momma I want to just be a Teller" you laughed shaking your head.

"And you aren't pissed?"

"Nah she's nearly 7 now and if she wants to change her last name just to Teller who am I to stop her" you smiled.

"Don't worry baby you will be a Teller soon" she winked.

#jax teller x oc #jax teller fanfiction #jax x reader #jax teller one shot #jax teller imagine #jax teller x reader #jax teller #soa imagine #soa x reader #soa #sons of anarchy x oc #sons of anarchy one shot #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy

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chaoticspacefam · 4 years ago

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OC Music Meme

I was tagged for this by @actualanxiousswampwitch ! Thank you & sorry it took so long, didn’t have time to write this out before I left for holiday stuff so here we go! I shall tag: @actualanxiousswampwitch (go on give us another one XD), @a-muirehen , @kyber-heart , @thedinalixlegacy (no pressure as always, I know I’m kinda late now sksjkshskhs!) and anyone else who wants to do this, yes, I promise I mean you!

art is by @ ocellifera on deviantART! :D

Let’s do Aria this time, shall we! Since her playlist is the second-longest, and her and Vano’s ship playlist is the longest, we’ll have the most (probable options! Long post so goin’ under a cut. Additional TW’s for: drugs, alcohol, alcoholism, drug addiction and murder, in case I’ve forgotten to add it to the song-specific sections. If you click past this cut, know that this is what you may find there.

reminds you of them most: It was super hard to pick just three for hers, there were so many others I wanted to include here, but couldn’t, as I wanted to make sure I included songs that covered as much of her over-arching characterisation as I could. Honourable mentions to: Miss Jackson - Panic! At The Disco feat. LOLO, Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) - Fall Out Boy, Beekeeper - Keaton Henson, and Bones Of A Rabbit - Young Heretics, which can all be found (and more) on her Spotify Playlist - catch-all warning for: sex, drugs, violence and murdering of parents applies here, be aware her playlist is very dark, just as dark as Rai’s but with differing subject matter, proceed with caution if you find anything like that triggering!)

You’re Going Down - Sick Puppies :: This one is kinda self-explanatory. I heard it on a Spotify or Youtube shuffle at some point a year or so ago and immediately went “Oh, hey Aria!” so onto her playlist it went XD “Because I'm hyped up out of control If it's a fight, I'm ready to go I wouldn't put my money on the other guy If you know what I know that I know.” don’t mess with the Tiny Sith, guys, she will put you in the medbay. She’ll do it, she’s done it before ask Vano what happened to the last guy *nods*

Liar - The Arcadian Wild :: This is a relatively “new” song in comparison, which was sent to me by a good rp/writer friend on Discord (who afaik doesn’t have other socials!) that I often discuss plot points etc. with among other things, saying “hey this reminded me of Aria thought you’d like it!”. I listened to it and yep, sure enough, it’s an Aria song. A big part of Aria’s character is that at the start, she really is quite a bad person. She’s nasty, and cantankerous and she really doesn’t care about anybody except for herself (and maybe her dad. A tiny bit.), as things progress, however, while she is still inherently quite rude and selfish, she DOES learn to value other people...provided they are people she cares about, like Vano, and her friends, and so on, as well as (sometimes, she’s working on it still) taking the blame for her own actions and learning it’s not “weak” or bad to a) admit you care about people, b) make mistakes and c) admit those mistakes and take responsibility for them. "I sense there’s trouble ahead, it’s clear by the signs and warnings. That should tell where all blame is due, So why are they pointing at MY head? [...] I sense deception to come. Honestly, truth and I are never one. 'Cause I am the lying man and I have made you my next victim. I need you to see through my act, to tell me I'm wrong, to take off the mask, or else I'll be left in the lie. And I'll deceive my way straight to demise! Cause I’m not in the right state of mind, I just wish I had strength to admit it. My stubbornness will put up a fight! But I don’t deserve to win it... I’m left in the dark, pondering my mistakes But in the light I swear I will, deny it all...”

I didn’t mean to post like half the song but woops it’s done so have it anyway lmao

Brutus - The Buttress :: TW: intense violent imagery in the lyrics. This one is very relevant but contains spoilers for upcoming and as of yet unposted/incomplete chapters (as in...like 3 ish chapters time at most) of Creeping Shadows, so I’ll post this quote as “explanation” and let you theorize who it’s about

“My name is Brutus and my name means “heavy” So with a heavy heart I'll guide this dagger into the heart of my Enemy! My whole life you were a teacher and friend to me Please know my actions are not motivated only by envy I too have a destiny! This death will be art! The people will speak of this day from near and afar This event will be history, And I'll be great too! I don't want what you have, I wanna be you!!“

reminds another character of them:

Where’s My Love? - SYML :: (Vano) I think the acoustic version is especially emotional : ))) Vano looked for her for years but couldn’t find her and genuinely thought Aria was dead. You can understand why she was so fucking angry when she found out that was a lie...but at the same time, she just wanted her love to come home :( “Did she run away? Did she run away? I don't know If she ran away, If she ran away, Come back home Just come home“

Mothers - Daughter :: (Myla, her mother) “Love all you need to love before it goes... When your face becomes a stranger’s that I don’t know. You will never remember who I was to you [...] I’m called “mother”, but they’re called “home”.”

Myla raised Aria for the first few years of her life, and really wanted to keep her away from both the Jedi and the Sith but as it became more and more clear that Aria’s Force affinity was as strong as her father’s, the situation rapidly spiralled out of Myla’s control. She tried to hide Aria, but in the end her father Noctis did find them and take Aria to train with the Sith. She didn’t see her daughter again until she was a teenager, suddenly turning up with the task to kill her for treason against the Empire (Myla is not the canon Imp Agent, but follows the general trajectory of the LS!Agent storyline i.e. an agent disillusioned with the Empire who eventually defects to the Republic with the help of the SIS.). Though she’s a Senator on Onderon now, Myla carried a blaster for personal protection and ofc knows how to use it, except...she couldn’t shoot her own daughter and that was all she wrote. I imagine her thought process during her final moments went something like in this song, especially the bit that I highlighted up there.

reminds you of a relationship of theirs, doesn’t have to be romantic, can be paternal, friendly, etc:

Tongues & Teeth - The Crane Wives :: Aria & Vano (Romantic). Aria’s relationship with Vano is incredibly messy and complicated. On one hand, she knows Vano deserves better, but at the same time she doesn’t want her to go anywhere else and it seems like no matter what she does to try and “warn her off” about what a “bad person” she is, Vano keeps coming back anyway. Ergo, this song. "Oh, I will ruin you. I will ruin you. It’s a habit...I can’t help it. I know that you mean so well, but I am not a vessel for your good intent. I will only break your pretty things, I will only wring you dry of everything! But if you’re fine with that, if you’re fine with that [...] You can be mine.”

Colours - Halsey :: Aria & Merak & Ziri (Friendship/Platonic Love) “You’re only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope, I hope you make it to the day you’re 28 years old...”

Aria “coped” (i.e. not very well but she did it) with the guilt of killing her mother and the stress brought on by the night terrors by self-medicating with glitterstims (spice) and alcohol, and this is how Merak in particular remembers her. Though she got clean from spice after they picked up Ziri, she still continued to drink (and still does) quite heavily, though at least it’s easier to manage that habit. Both of them supported her through this the best they could and it’s probably a big reason (other than Merak being Vano’s little brother) that they’re still Aria’s friends to this day, even if she doesn’t actively travel with them anymore.

(honourable mention to Agnes - Glass Animals which also falls under this “category” but I didn’t want this to get too crowded lmao, it is once again a super long post woops) You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid - The Offspring :: Aria & Roan/Darth Noctis (Familial/Familial Love) Listen, he may have taught her very bad emotional habits and turned her into a tiny attack dog, but her father did love & protect her the best way he possibly could. He was very proud of her and always envisioned her taking his place as a Darth one day (and it takes her a longass while, but eventually she does! Congrats dad!). That’s all I’ve got to say about this one 🤷‍♀️ Monster - Willyecho :: Aria & Satele Shan/The Jedi Order (Enemies to Begrudging Respect (eventually) “I can see the truth. No, you don’t have to lie to me. Don’t fill your head with things and think you’re free~ [...] You don’t believe in monsters, do you~?” ”Of course not!” ”Well, I do...” See me change...into something...darker....” My personal favourite from this “round”. It’s not until Ilum that Satele and the Jedi finally realise they have not “converted” Aria as they thought they did, but rather...they’ve had a Sith hiding under their noses, a Sith related to a Dark Councillor well-known for murdering Jedi no less, and that perhaps...the “deaths” she had convinced them were accidental, were in fact, not an accident at all. 😈 Aria, of course, gets her ass thrown in jail for a few years for this lmao When the schtick with the Revanites happens and Theron needs someone who can “negotiate in a civil manner with Sith”, he and his mother agree Aria is the best bet - if it works, the Sith will respond more positively to her than any other Jedi, if they kill her instead then they’re “rid of” her and don’t lose one of their own - when Lana’s point-of-contact happens to be Vano and the pair reunite after another several years apart, Aria refuses to return to the Republic after Yavin IV. By then, she’s developed enough of a begrudging respect for Satele (and vice versa) that the Grand Master lets her go (not that she was willing to try and fight Vano, Ni’kasi, Marr & Lana to try and take Aria prisoner again anyways). They haven’t seen each other since and though Aria is neutral to the Jedi who have joined the Alliance, she doesn’t care for those who are still loyal to the Republic and would rather have nothing to do with them if she can help it.

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gaybaiter · 4 years ago

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reef for the oc meme bro.....

AAHH you chose well hes my favorite oc i love talking about him

full name: reef garlen verdun

gender and sexuality: gay and boy adjacent. ive never put thought into his gender identity hes just. reef.

pronouns: he/him

ethnicity/species: so the world his story takes place in doesnt have like. the continents that we have its a legit different planet thing but his whole family is like. french-inspired. in the context of the story though he is also fae-born! basically means elves but its more like. genetic predisposition to channeling magic. descended from fae. hence fae-born. hes only half though his father was human

birthplace and birthdate: birthplace makes absolutely no sense without the context of the map but. he was born in south stalor in no particular town, close to the northern border. as for his birthday im going to say a tentative january 15. subject to change because i have a really specific way of choosing birthdays that i somehow have not done for him yet

guilty pleasures: he is a GLUTTON for sure he doesnt like to admit it but he adores all kinds of sweets.

phobias: illness because of some stuff that happened when he was a kid.

what they would be famous for: dating finn! if he hadnt fucked off to live by a lake and shunned his princely duties it wouldve shoved reef into the spotlight as the princes new beau

what they would get arrested for: he is a thief and has been arrested several times already. like a lot.

oc you ship them with: finn for sure. they do end up dating but their dynamic is very good before that also.

oc most likely to murder them: oh jeez. depends on accident or on purpose. on purpose would be viviane (finns mother and the queen of north stalor) because she does NOT approve of her son falling for some common theif. accidentally would probably be either himself, finn, or marlowe. they all do really dumb shit together and finn and marlowe have almost accidentally killed him once already

favorite movie/book genre: removing him from the fantasy world for this but. he would almost 100% be a huge nonfiction/documentary nerd. he likes to consume as much knowledge as possible

least favorite movie/book cliche: he has never been one for romantic cliches, even though his relationship is basically like 4 thrown together.

talents and/or powers: ok falling back into fantasy here! he is a theif and hes mostly really good at it, and elaine (basically his mom theyre very close) teaches him magic and he focuses on conjuration/illusion

why someone might love them: oh god i love him so much but i cannot verbalize why. idk hes very close to my heart but i cannot think of why other people would like him

why someone might hate them: he is. a very rude person. hes mean. also hes really stubborn and oblivious a lot of the time and it can be frustrating.

how they change: OH HE CHANGES SO MUCH at the beginning of the story he is withdrawn and solitary and he snaps at people who try to help him. he is reluctant in accepting help even when he is physically at his limit but by the end he. works through his issues and deals with a lot of his trauma and lets the people who love him do exactly that its. good.

why you love them: stupid gayboy emotionally unavailable elf like. hes my peak character.

#I KNOW IT WAS A LOT OF QUESTIONS BUT I FEEL LIKE I DUMPED TOO MUCH SORRY

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justoneday-namjoonii · 6 years ago

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Color me moonlight. II

☾ • I • II • III • IV • V • VI • VII ☽

› Summary: Some flowers are not to be plucked, for their thorns are far too sharp for any hand to graze, yet, she was touched. She was soft, fragile, she didn’t know it, but something that beautiful could never be bad. You grew up in a garden of loneliness, do you have a place to bloom? It’s alright, I’ll give you a place and we can bloom together.

a/n: thank you for all of the love part 1 received! I was really happy to see that some of you are following this story(im personally loving it myself). If there are any questions at all, don’t hesistate to send in an ask! Your feed back is more than welcomed ♥♥

April 7th, 1988.

“Jane Sato, date of Biological Alteration and Repair test run, April 7th, 1988. Time, 1:07 Pm. Subject 1010; 20 years of age, male, 129 lb, 5′9. Biochemistry, molecular biology, bioinformatics, DNA-Polymerase, chromosomal translocation, and genetic isolates are among the primary research conducted for the operation. The patient’s condition of severe cell degeneration, Sickle-cell disease, and genetic malformations —” She paused, the recorders red light still on, “— compatible with all inquiries of biogenetic mutation and enhancement. Surgery will commence accompanied by surgeons, Jackson Blanchard, Stephanie Liu, Hanz Fai, and surgical nurse Joyce Brown. Surgery will now begin.”

The scientists and doctors in the facility watched from the viewing room, standing right at the glass so they wouldn’t miss a thing. Her personal favorite, clair de lune, was the last song on the playlist in the background. After roughly 7 hours, the operation was complete.

“Alright,” She inspected with work they had done over several hours. The surgical mask, gown, and gloves were beginning to become a part of her from how long she had them on, “stitch him up.”

She went to the sink in the back where she had left the recorder and thrown her gloves away.

“7:40 PM. The operation was successful. All vital signs are normal and patient 1010-FS is expected to recover well.”

She washed up before greeting the group of eager professionals who came to witness history. She clears her throat. “Alright, questions?”

‘I have a question doctor. Last month, you discussed the possibility of a program dedicated to your research, can you tell us more about that?’

She nods. “Yes. I‘ve served the Medical Science Advisory for three years now and since the opening of the SRMA Facility, I’ve come far with my research. Starting next year, my program will start.”

“What does the program entail exactly?”

“First, 120 volunteers from all over the country will take part in the experimentation. I won’t reveal everything but I will say this, the participants will undergo extreme DNA modifications and molecular mutation on a supernatural level.”

***

October 19th, 1992. 4 years post-program.

The program commenced in 1989 and experimentations took place at the Science-Medical Facility. Just as she planned, 120 participants were under intensive study and experimentation. More volunteers came from all over, ranging from ages 10 to 30, per Dr. Sato’s request. Recently, Sato had begun to categorize the most and least successful cross-studies. The 4% of experiments with the M2-gene were separated to undergo intensive modification.

“Jane.”

“Yes?” She measured the potent liquid, one drop more and it would kill the receiver.

“Patient 1072.” Her assistant, Diana, placed the clipboard in on the doctor’s work table. “She’s been showing a lot of physical and behavioral progress.”

“1072, she’s in the lower level group, yeah? That’s good” Sato flipped through a book, her gaze softening. “Look at this, in 1973 in the United Kingdom, this poor thing was born with Tay-Sachs disease. She had seizures, vision and hearing loss, intellectual disability, and paralysis and she died at the age of 3.” She sighed. “I could have saved that girl and given her a life without pain and suffering. Those doctors didn’t know what they were doing...that’s why she died.”

Diana cleared her throat, nodding as she waits for the doctor to notice that she came here for something else.

“I’m sorry, what about 1072?”

“Oh, she’s receiving the DNA modification well, I think she can join the 4%.”

“Let me have a look-”

The facility speakers blared.

Dr. Sato to room B012.

“I guess I’ll have to wait.” Sato slipped her reading glasses off and made her way to the elevator so she could get to the 9th floor.

“Doctor, thank God.” Blanchard was standing in front of the patient's room with a few of their colleagues.

“What’s going on?”

“The experiment, he’s developed his first sign of mutation. His body is still weak but he has physical changes, you’d be amazed.” Her eyes brightened, this was her favorite part of the program, witnessing the changes. “We’ve watched him for 4 hours straight and well- You have to see him yourself.”

“Show me.”

He opened the door and let her walk in by herself, the boy sat up on the bed, seemingly normal aside from his extreme lack of pigment in his eyes, they looked translucent, almost pale. That was new. She approached him.

“Touch my hand.” She spoke, waiting for him to do it. “Go on, it’s okay.” He slowly reached his hand to place it on hers. Warm, his hand was warm and she felt a pang of heat in her chest, he winced, retreating his hand immediately.

“You’re coming along great.” She insisted. “Get some rest and you’ll get your medicine shortly.” She left the boy to sit in the room.

“Did you see it, doctor?”

“Yes. Continue testing and make a date for his procedure.” She instructed and he nodded. She was about to walk down the hall but she paused. “Oh, and move him up to the 4%.”

“Stupid earrings!” You kick the side of your vanity, instantly regretting it when a surge of pain went up to your leg.

The only pair of diamond earrings you owned were missing and you had 10 minutes to get to the subway or bus for the North Heights. Half of your hair was okay while the other side looked like a mangled up tumbleweed. You got the sleeve of your blouse caught in the bleach water for dishes so you had to change for the third time. This morning was starting off pretty rough.

Margaret never specified a time until 6 o’clock this morning. She said Mr. Kim has appointments all day after 9 so, ‘Be here by 7:30.’ You live a half-hour away, and that’s when the bus isn’t late or if you catch a taxi on a good day. It was currently 6:47 and you were vigorously passing a comb through your hair. At this point, it doesn’t even matter if you look like Synthia from the Rugrats, you had to get out of here. You grabbed a ponytail holder and tied it up, at least you had somewhat of a presentable style now. Your little skirt and top would have to work with a pair of flats because there is no way you’re running around this city in heels today.

“How is it 7 already!?” You glanced at the microwave clock and cursed it for mocking you. The yogurt you attempted to eat would have to wait until you come back. You threw your bag onto your shoulder and bolted out of the door.

You ran down the few flights of stairs, stopping in front of the complex and holding your cell phone in your hand to search the bus and subway schedule. “Off of Miller and Maine- Departed?!- That’s it, the world has it out for me.”

The subway was too far of a walk and the 7 o'clock bus just left, there is no way you’re gonna get there before 7:45. “Why...” You looked around, about to wave down a taxi when a man in a tapped your shoulder. “Taxi!-”

“Excuse me, Miss?”

“Yes?” You furrowed your brows, wondering what this older fellow might want that apparently can’t wait.

“Are you Y/f/n?” You noticed the gentlemen wore a black chauffeur hat and uniform.

“Yes, can I help you, sir?- Wait, how do you know my name?” You gave him a suspicious expression.

“I am your driver for this morning ma’am, Bernard Shelton. Mr. Kim sent a car for you. I knocked on your apartment door but you must not have heard me. He requested that I apologize on is behalf for the short notice.” You looked past him to see a black luxury vehicle with tents that might as well have been a black hole. “Are you ready to go?”

“Um,” You didn’t know if you could trust this guy, despite his convincing attire and professional mannerisms. “I’m sorry but how do I know Mr. Kim sent you? I mean, wouldn’t he have his secretary tell me this?”

“Would you like to contact Ms. Gough for verification? We’re already running late and Mr. Kim has appointments all day after 9 o’clock. We really must be going, ma’am.” You glanced at your watch, it was 7:09, this is your best bet.

“Alright...” With hopes that you weren’t getting kidnapped, you followed him in the car and sat anxiously in the backseat. Your fingers grazed the flawless interior, making you wonder why a car of this prowess came to pick you up. Upon request of the CEO at that.

“We’re here ma’am, with one minute to spare.” He smiled, stopping you in front of the huge skyscraper in the middle of the fine part of the city.

“Thank you.” You hopped out of the car and made your way inside. The lobby was far more beautiful than the one at your office. There were sparkling light fixtures, expensive paintings gracing to tall walls and you found your self-walking towards the front desk slower than you should have.

“Hello, I have an appointment with Mr. Kim at 7:30.”

The woman looked through her computer and she couldn’t hide the judgments glint in her eye when she looked at you. “Your name?”

“Y/n.”

She picked up the black corded phone. “Margeret, I have a Y/n here to see Mr. Kim, would you like me to send her up?” A few seconds went by and she nodded. “Alright, I'll send her up.” She put the phone back on the hook. “You can go ahead. Top floor, directly in front of you when you exit the elevator, his secretary is to the right of his office.”

“Thank you.” Quickly, you went to the elevator and took it straight up to the top floor. A light ‘ding’ noise and you were let out on the quiet floor, not a single soul making a sound on the pristine floor.

“Excuse me,” You walked up to the desk that said ‘Margeret Gough.’ “Ms. Gough?”

“You’re here.” She had a kind smile. “He’s waiting for you, he just got off of his first-morning call. One moment,” She pressed a red button on the phone hook, “you’re 7:30 is here sir, should I send her in now?” She was talking to Taehyung.

“Yes, you can send her in.”

Your courage started to falter when you heard his voice, now you were really, really nervous. But now is not the time to be timid—you have to hold your head high and walk in there with confidence.

“Okay, sir.” A beep signaled that he turned off the phone. “Go on ahead.” She gestured to the door, a kind simper beckoning you to go in. “No need to be nervous, Mr. Kim is in a very good mood this morning.” She giggled, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Just breathe...” You mumbled, slowly pushing open one of the two tall double doors at the end of the hall.

Your eyes met him instantly as he stood in front of the window the covered the entire wall. The view was ridiculous.

His eyes widened upon your entrance. “Good morning.” He smiled a bit, one hand on a coffee mug while the other rested in his pocket. The dainty necklace with a tiny diamond on the end of it brought his attention to the v neck of your camel-colored blouse.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim.” You brought a had to the side of your neck briefly and that small movement prompted his eyes to find the soft indent of your collarbones.

He cleared his throat. “I apologize for this being so short notice, I hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience for you.” By the time he walked over to the gesture that you sit, you had already made yourself comfortable in the small leather chair in front of his desk.

“Don’t worry about it. Thank you for sending the car, by the way, you really didn’t have to do that.” It was a kind gesture but you didn’t feel it was necessary.

“No, it was the least I could do. Last night, I remembered I had these meetings to do and I couldn’t help but want to do one with you since we talked last night.” He sipped his coffee. “So, I asked Margeret to contact you.” He swiveled his chair a bit. “I guess we should get right into it then, yeah?”

“What is it, exactly?”

“Just reviewing company regulations, how you think your locations management is, things like that...” He laid a sheet of paper with a bunch of questions and long black lines, right in front of you. “Would you fill that out? It’s like a survey, a business owner seminar suggested I get to know the business and this was one way to do it.”

“Alright...” You did what you had to do, writing simple answers to questions like, ‘how does your management treat you? Do you feel like an important part of the team?’ Important? Eh, sure, you thought, trying to compile meaningful sentences. After five minutes or so, you were on the very last question and before your pen touched the paper, you froze. “D-did you say something?”

The confusion on his face probably meant no. “No.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought I heard something...” You bashfully went back to the paper, quickly scribbling down an answer before setting the pen back in the pen holder. “I’m done.”

“Great. So, how did you feel about the survey? Margeret made the questions with her assistant, she said this would be a good way to see how the employees feel about the company. It wasn’t too boring I hope.”

“It was fine,” It was a generic survey.

“Let me ask you, do you feel like a valued employee?” The question was pretty simple, but you found yourself scrambling for a response that clearly expressed how you felt.

“Valued? Um...” This was going to sound pessimistic but oh well. “Well, if I quit today and someone gets hired to take my job tomorrow, does that change your profits in any way?” He assumed it was a rhetorical question. “No, I don’t think it does. So how important could I be to you? Sure, I think I’m valued but I see it this way, there’s a job that needs to be done and I’m just the person who does it, no one too special...” He had never heard such an unenthusiastic statement from an employee before, he always viewed his father's company as one big family but based on what you were saying, it wasn’t as family-oriented as he believed.

“I’m sorry, that sounds kind of negative, doesn’t it?” His silence made you realize that what you said was probably the last thing a boss wanted to hear. “I don’t hate my job, I just don’t see the point in fabricating anything, Mr. Kim. Your company is great and all, but for me, it’s just a job that helps support me...”

“Well,” Your eyes followed him as he walked to the cute little coffee maker to fill up his mug again, “is there anything I can do to make your job more enjoyable? I don’t want you to feel like you’re a machine in a factory, you are an important member of this company. I mean that.”

“Look,” You sighed, standing up from your chair to walk near the window, taking this opportunity to appreciate the cities beauty from a bird's eye view, “I chose to work for you because it’s a reputable company and your cameras are nice.” When you glanced at him, he saw your real smile for the first time, your teeth showing and everything. Sadly, you shielded it from his sight as he approached you. “If it’s worth anything, I think you’re doing a good job with this whole CEO thing, in my professional opinion at least.” You smiled, he deserved some type of praise for reaching out to his people like this.

“Thank you, that means a lot.” The urge to walk up to you and tangle his finger in the stray strand of hair in your ponytail but he resisted. “You know, because of you, we discontinued Model 0XHS-5D.”

He was standing beside you now. “Really?”

“Yes, and it has impacted sales positively. We cut off the manufacture and it shows in the stock market, all because of you Y/n.”

“Oh, that’s good, I’m glad I could be of some assistance...” When you sensed him trying to stand a bit too close for comfort, you walked back to your seat. The lack of sleep was kicking in because you found yourself leaning against the side of the chair with your forearm—and the coffee in his hand smelled like heaven. He followed you, taking his previous position in his chair.

“I like the idea of...I don’t know, talking to someone I already know, it’s refreshing.”

“With all due respect sir, you don’t really know me.” The coo in your voice wasn’t intentional but you were just being honest. “Sure, we talked at the party and last night, but other than that...We’re strangers.” You trailed off, not really sure how you were supposed to end that statement.

“Y/n.” He breathed, thinking he may as well just outright say it—it would happen eventually. “Would you join me for lunch? My lunch appointment canceled before you came, so I have a reservation that I don’t have to cancel if you join me.”

Lunch? That was the last thing you were expecting to hear this morning. His eyes seemed to latch onto you and refuse to let you go until you answered his question.

“L-lunch? I appreciate the offer but...” You swallowed, for a split second, you considered taking him up on the offer but you quickly dismissed the preposterous idea. I can’t do that, he’s my boss. “But I can’t, I have to get back to work, it’s already past 8 and I- I don’t think that’s the best idea given I kinda work for you...”

“Work’s not a problem, I gave all survey participants the day off anyway. A 12:30 lunch is more than appropriate for our relationship I think...” Eager, that’s what he probably looked like, but the desperation to get near you was hard to ignore. That same way you looked on the terrace at the party, you still looked that way and he couldn’t just disregard it.

You locked eyes with him—tempting, very much so, but no. Absolutely not.

“I’m sorry,” You stood to your feet and he followed suit, standing much taller than you, especially without your trusty high heels on. “but I can’t.”

Any hopes of a day accompanied by you came crashing down as you politely rejected him. The only person he wanted to dine with at that restaurant didn’t want anything to do with him. The way you nibbled on your bottom lip implied that you were starting to feel uncomfortable. He took a small step back, you were dying to get out of here and he was perplexed onto why.

A beep interrupted you, it was Margeret.

“Your 8:30 is here, should I send them in?”

He was quiet, still peering at you as if it would change your final answer. Sadly for him, it did nothing for his cause...

He pressed the button on the phone base. “Give me one moment.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be going now-” You tried to gather your purse and get out of dodge but he stopped you.

“No wait, take this.” He grabbed a business card and wrote a string of numbers and words on it. “This is my personal cell.” He handed it to you. “With this number, I’m Taehyung, not Mr. Kim. So, if you feel more comfortable going to lunch with him,” He smiled halfheartedly. “he’ll be there.”

“Alright...” You tucked it into your purse and bowed respectfully before turning your back to leave.

“Do you like jazz or classical music?”

You paused, you weren’t expecting such a question. “Um, I enjoy both. Why?”

There was an itch at the back of his neck and he satisfied the nuisance with the tip of his index finger. “I thought maybe that was why we ended up at that cafe last night, a common interest.”

“Yeah, maybe...” You mumbled, turning around to continue your path out the door.

Meeting with Taehyung wasn’t so bad after all, you scored a day off. You took it upon yourself to get a few things done and spend a little time with one of your only friends. He was being currently studying medicine, technology, science - things like that. He offered to come to your favorite cafe to study with you and a few minutes ago, his lab partner joined you two. The bug seemed to have gotten to them too...

The cafe had the news on in the background and they were playing the same news bit from last night which led Hoseok to strike up a conversation with the lab girl he’s always with.

“What do you think about the 1989 Project? Does your supervising physician ever talk about it? Especially since the media won’t shut up about it.” Hoseok, your good friend for a few years now met you at the cafe so you could catch up on your language studies.

“She’s mentioned it a few times but I try not to ask about it.” Wendy decided to join you two as well, she and Hoseok were going to school for the same thing so they often studied together.

“What do you think about it Y/n?” Hoseok looked to you. Given you were really into that whole medical and technology thing, you wondered why he had to ask.

“Um,” You took out one earbud, “I don’t know, it’s interesting I guess.” Assuming he was going to continue talking, you kept the earbud out.

“I used to think that the Zoe Hawn case was always so freaky, it’s one of the reasons I’m studying at the SRMA Facility, I want to be a part of something that’ll do some good. Crossbreeds, crosses, hybrids- Whatever they're called, I know for a fact that there are experiments still at the laboratory.”

Wendy crooked a brow. “How would you know that?”

“I’m an intern at the facility, I listen in on the scientists and doctors sometimes. There’s a floor that you have to have level five clearance to be on and I’ve peeked in a few times.” You remembered you had a medical and scientific savvy best friends who would never drop the conversation.

Wendy chimed in. “Yeah, I’ve never seen the patients in there, they say some of them look like everyday people, others -- not so much. I wonder if there are even patients in there, it might just be something else.”

“Interesting...” It had been some time since you left Taehyungs office and you rubbed the business card between your fingers, staring down at the numbers and restaurant name. “Pain Grillé...” You whispered the name to yourself, you had seen that place before, your co-workers often mentioned the fancy place—maybe going wouldn’t be so bad...

“What was that?” Wendy tilted her head, her honey blonde hair shifting on her shoulders.

“Oh, nothing...” Nothing you wanted to discuss with them.

Hoseok smirked. “What’s that in your hand? You’ve been staring at it every few minutes now, is it a love note from an admirer or something?” He teases, the blush on your cheeks and the knitting of your brows only made your reaction all the more amusing

“No, dummy.” You kicked his foot. “It’s not a love note. I was asked to lunch and the name of the restaurant is on this card.”

“So, why are you here?”

“Because I’m not going.” That card was dropped back into your purse, you regretted taking it out in the first place.

“Why not? Lunch at Pain Grille sounds great -- and expensive.” He wondered, what special person wanted to take you there?

“I just rather not, that’s all.” It’s time for a subject change, “I have to go, I’m dog walking all evening so...” You grabbed your notebook and put the rest of your things in your tote. “Bye guys.”

Mr. and Mrs. Lafonso asked you to walk and feed their Pomeranian while they’re out and that’s what you were doing. Dog walking on the side is way underrated, it was what you did when you first moved out here to earn some extra cash. It was sort of a depressing time in your life, you lived in a tiny hotel and worked in a diner until you could save enough to find your own place. Living on your own wasn’t easy at first—a young 18-year-old that was struggling to get by in the big city with a few hundred dollars or so and a heavy suitcase. You got offers from guys to be their sugar-babies and if you were honest, you considered it a few times, the check from your part-time jobs looked like chump change in comparison to the money those guys were offering you. You didn’t have much but you had dignity and morality, no amount of money could take that away. And that’s what kept you going, you knew you could to make it and you did, all by yourself.

“Ugh...” It was beginning to drizzle and you were about to walk down to get to the subway station but you stopped, Pain Grillé. Kim Taehyung could be seen through the window, sitting at the table alone as the swoon waiter brought him a glass of wine.

The grumble of your stomach indicated that it was a marvelous idea—darn your appetite. You turned around and strolled across the street to get to the restaurant, your actually about to do this. When you walked inside, the lump in your throat was stopping you from speaking to the hostess at the desk.

“Good afternoon ma’am, can I help you?” She was a sweet lady, beckoning you to come to her.

“Oh,” Clearing your throat, you smiled, “I’m meeting Kim Tae-”

“Oh, you’re her!” She sounded a bit flustered like she knew you were coming but forgot. “I’m so sorry ma’am, I’ll get you seated, right this way.” She grabbed a menu and urged you to follow.

Her?

“Mr. Kim said he was expecting a special guest, he told me to make sure I bring you over myself. I’m the owner, Audrey. He loves this place, comes here for all of his special lunch appointments.” Her jaw-length bob bounced as she walked you through the busy restaurant. When he looked up from his phone and saw you, one would think you two were pretty close because of his childishly wide smile. I knew she would come...

“Here you are! Your waiter will be over shortly. Enjoy!” With that, she was gone, and you both stood there.

“You came...” He beamed, still in awe that you took him up on his offer. You were about to speak as you reached to pull out your chair. “Yeah, I-”

“Wait, let me get that for you.” He rushed to the chair to pull it out for you.

“Thank you...” You shuffled the chair forward, now you were a few inches away from the pristine white tablecloth.

“No, thank you for joining me, for a moment there I thought you wouldn’t show up.” He took his wine glass, sipping it briefly. Unbeknownst to him, it was sheer coincidence that led you here.

“Oh? Well, here I am...” You scanned the menu slightly as you glanced up at him.

You don’t mind a little wine with your lunch, do you? They have wines that pair beautifully with every meal, I’ve tried the whole menu. I went with a Muscadet today, easy-drinking in my opinion.” He would have a knowledgeable understanding of wines, why wouldn’t he?

“I don’t mind, I enjoy a glass every so often.” Maybe a few times a month -- week.

The corner of his lips “So-”

“Good afternoon ma’am, can I get you started with something to drink?” The waiter asked and Taehyung glanced at him with an impatient glint, he was interrupting something.

“I’ll have a Mascoto please.” You thanked the waiter as he went off to get your sweet bubbly beverage. Day-drinking—I guess, when in Rome do as the Romans, you thought to yourself.

“Good choice.” He bit his lip, his tongue peeking out to run over his lips in a tantalizing way. Out of habit, he tapped his fingers on the table. “I admit that I’m probably coming on a bit strong, yeah?” You nodded. “I don’t mean to come after you, I genuinely just want to get to know you...”

He’s still on that. “Sir-”

“Taehyung...” He reminded you. “Call me Taehyung, please.” That smirk—God, why is he smirking at me like that?

“Taehyung,” You emphasized the call of his name, “I’m flattered but I’m no different from anybody else...” Thank goodness the waiter brought your wine to you, you needed it right about now. “I’m sure there are plenty of women who have extravagant lives they can tell you about over lunch, why me?” You scoffed bitterly. “It doesn’t add up to me-”

“I don’t want to know just any of those women, I want to know you.” He countered. “That whole ‘there’s nothing to know about me’ act, I just don’t believe it, everybody has a story.”

“I don’t.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you almost look believable when you lie?”

You choked mid-sip. “Excuse me?-”

“Are you two ready to order?”

He was starting to spite this waiter. “Uh, yes, I’ll have my usual, what about you, love?” He was looking at you.

Still taken aback by his statement, you ordered. “I’ll have the chicken marsala with a side salad, please.” He nodded, taking the menus away to leave you two alone. You glared at him. “Lie? What makes you think-” He cut you off.

“If you don’t mind me asking, are you close with your family?” That was a personal question that you weren’t expecting to have to answer today.

“You expect me to answer your questions after you called me a liar?” You scoffed. “I don’t think so...”

He sighed, not breaking eye contact in the slightest as he sipped his wine. “Is there anyone, anyone at all, a mother, sister, friend, anyone you’re really close with? Anyone you can share your heart with, talk about difficult things with. You seem like the loner type...”

“It doesn’t matter.” You quipped rather defensively. “I don’t really need anyone to talk to, I’m doing fine on my own. As far as my family goes, well, I’m not a representation of my family, I’m just me...”

“So you’re not close to your parents?” He tilted his head curiously. You gazed down at your silver fork, solemnly—you never talk about stuff like this.

“No...” You uttered lowly, not liking where he was going with the invasive questions. “They died when I was a newborn, I was adopted by my uncles family...”

“Oh...” He felt bad for asking now. “I’m sorry to hear that,” You flinched, he cupped the top of your hand with his own large one, a softness in his eyes, “I’m sure growing up was hard for you, yeah?...”

“I mean, you could say that...” Oddly, you let him keep his hand on your own but it didn’t last long. “Can we drop this subject, please? I really don’t like talking about it.” You slid your hand back, an awkward grin showing your discomfort.

“Of course, sorry,” He sounded flustered, “I didn’t mean to pry.” The waiter had come back and sat the food in front of you two, you both thanked him. It smelled divine and Taehyung had already dug into his meal. You stabbed the nicely sliced tomato, sticking it in your mouth slowly as you eyed him intently.

“Y’know...” He began.

You forgot that people actually talk to one another when they go out to eat, it’s been so long it seemed weird. You were just about ready to tape his mouth shut because of all of these questions weren’t allowing you to eat. The chicken on your fork would have to wait. “What?”

“I know this may be a little awkward since I’m your boss and all, but we’re both adults.” Awkward? That was an oversimplification.

He lowered his voice. “This morning, when you said you heard something,” He bit his lip, “I whispered something to myself...I said it so low, I could barely hear myself say it, but you did.” His gaze focused on you intensely. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, how could you have heard something that was as quiet as a thought?”

Fear. A blanket of utter terror wrapped around you as you struggled to gulp the lump in your throat. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You choked, hands beginning to tremble when you pushed them in your lap.

“Are you sure? Because I think you do.” He was starting to rub you the wrong way.

You are eating lunch in a restaurant with a man that you work for and he sees no problem with it. Not only that, but you saw a few employees from the Heights office and they wouldn’t stop staring and whispering when they saw you. Free lunch at the expense of your antisocial way of life. Those workers knew your face now, what if this went bad? It would look bad on a new boss was seen with a lower level employee like you, what would they think? This is why you didn’t want to do this, this was a bad idea. Thoughts raced through your mind but the only one that you could grasp was the thought of him knowing—you wanted to throw up.

“Are you okay? Your face is flushed.” His eyes widened in concern.

“I- I’m fine, it’s just a little hot in here.” You fanned yourself lightly, reaching for the glass of wine and finishing it off but still feeling parched. Suddenly, a dull ache throbbed in your temples and your brows furrowed in discomfort.

“Excuse me,” he stopped a waiter, “can you bring me a glass of water please?”

“No, no, thank you for everything but I really have to go.” You were pushing yourself away from the table and in a matter of seconds, you were making your way through the restaurant and flying out the door. When you walked out of that place you felt like you could breathe. The gears were turning in your head, anxiety began to eat away at your bones and you couldn’t contain it anymore. Panting, you stood in the busy street, trying to gather yourself. You shook your head, your ears aching as if someone had set a firework off right next to you. Eager to get home, you got on the subway and held on to the safety bar. You felt hot, it as if everything was burning inside you. It scared you to death, people would try to get close, ask too many questions—

it made you sick to your stomach.

Home, that was your goal. When you got off the subway, you made your dog walking stops. Starting from the farthest apartment complex to your own. A pit bull, two chihuahua’s and a brown lab, it took about 2 hours. The Lafonso’s canceled last minute so you were thankful because nature decided that you deserved to suffer this evening. The rain was relentless. It was pouring down, your clothes were drenched, sticking to you in the worst way as you walked down the street, desperate to get home. No one offered to walk you under their umbrella, not that you would accept the offer anyway. A nice hot shower was all you wanted.

“Huh...” You sigh, dragging your soaked frame up the stairs. You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. You dug into your pocket to take out you’re house key. “Where is that thing?-...”

Notice from the city — Sorry we missed you!

We missed you! You were not available when we came to introduce the new monthly policy. The SRMA monthly routine check on all citizens born between 1992 - 1998 who may have failed to submit their medical records or whose records may need verifying. Do not be alarmed, as a government, we want to ensure the health and safety of our people through all necessary methods. If you have any questions, contact us at 747-”

B.S.—You rip the bright orange paper off the door, crumbling it up into a ball, and throw it in the trash bin as you entered your home. It’s disgusting. The government has their sneaky ways of getting what they want, one way or another. Just as you do every night, you flipped the light switch to get some light in your dark little living room. You flicked it twice but there was no light—just your luck. The light bulbs are out. You toss your purse on the couch to go search for some extra light bulbs.

For some reason the light bulbs refused to be found, you checked under the kitchen sink, then the supply closet—I know I bought some.

“There we go.” On the very top shelf, the new pack of bulbs sat in the far corner. You had no clue why you put it there but you reached up on your tippy-toes and grabbed the pack.

Sighing, you untwisted the dead bulb from under lampshade and sat it on the coffee table. As you were about to screw in the new bulb, suddenly, you heard low footsteps in the hall and you tensed as the unknown person passed your door.

You absentmindedly screwed in the bulb. “Who in the- Agh!” A sharp burst of glass and light happened in your hands and scared the life out of you. The light bulb previously in your hand now exploded, the shards of glass missing your finger so by less than an inch.

You rush to your kitchen to get a broom and dustpan. “Cheap bulbs, what can you expect...” You cleared your throat, shuffling over to clean up the mess. When you glanced at your buzzing cellphone, you had easily predicted who it was on the other end. You picked it up and held it between your shoulder and ear. “Hi, Hoseok.”

“Hey, I was just calling to check on you. I saw you weren’t answering your texts so I got worried.”

Always so concerned for you, you were lucky to have at least one friend like him.

“Oh, I was really busy today, I didn’t even see your texts. Sorry about that.” You walked into the kitchen as Hoseok explained that he was just making sure you got home safely. He was also pretty curious about who went to lunch with today, you wouldn’t say. “Don’t worry about it Hoseok, it was just lunch and it’s not happening again. Now, I wish I didn’t have to run but I got caught in the rain and I need a shower-”

Footsteps. You heard footsteps in the hall again, and this time, they stopped right in front of your door.

“Y/n?”

“Wait one second...” You whispered, trying to stealthily tiptoe to the door but there was a knock. This time, you were sure it was probably Jan, it had to be...

“Hello?”

No, that’s a man's voice.

“Anyone home?”

Just as you were about to peek through the peep-hole, a paper began to slip through the crack of the door and fall to the floor in front of you. The person had quickly walked away after that and you bent down to inspect the paper.

“Y/n, is everything okay?”

You forgot Hoseok was still on the phone.

“Yeah...I’m good. Hey, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay, goodnight.”

“Night...” You hung up the phone, staring down at the paper.

You have failed to submit your birth records to the SRMA for the 4th year in a row. 5 years with unsubmitted records is considered a felony as of 2 months ago. You have one year to submit your records before you are put under high suspicion of the state. At the bottom of the paper, a printed signature was signed. Ordered by Senator Nelson Green.

“Ugh, not again...” You were about to crumble up the paper, but you paused. You don’t even know if your birth certificate is legitimate. You were adopted and for all you knew, your parents had altered the thing, it’s unlikely, but it’s still a possibility. You had never turned them in for the mere fact that it wasn’t against the law, it was just a strong and annoying suggestion. Until now.

“I’ve never met anyone like her before and I don’t want to let her slip through my fingers...” He was at his penthouse and his best friend, Jimin, was day house-sitting for him. Taehyung sat on the couch with his matching pajama set on and pillow snug in his grasp as the television served to fill in the silence gap.

“She must be gorgeous for you to be this messed up about her.” Jimin sat on the recliner with a bowl of ramen.

“I went to lunch with her today.”

“Oh? So you’ve already gone on a date?”

“Not exactly, my lunch appointment canceled so I asked her if she wanted to join me. She came but I really don’t think she wanted to be there. It may have to do with the fact that I’m kind of her boss...”

“She works for you?!” Jimin couldn’t hide his shock.

Taehyung sighs. “Don’t sound so surprised, she works in the customer service department downtown.”

“Woah, what does your dad think about you getting involved with an employee?”

“Who said anything about getting involved? I don’t think she likes me all that much, she’s kind of a closed book, doesn’t like to talk much. I just asked her to lunch, nothing more nothing less.” He knew it was far much more than that.

“But you want this to turn into something more, don’t you?” Jimin knew the answer. And so did Taehyung. But the thought of verbalizing his want for you made it less real, less tangible.

“Yes- No, I don’t know, I just want to get to know her, that’s all.” Taehyung laid on the arm of the couch, lost in his thoughts. There was no denying that you were hiding something from him, he knew that for a fact. But getting you to open up and be comfortable with him seemed to be the hardest part of all. Why was he so drawn to you? And why did you hide that you felt the same?

A few days later.

It’s a few days since your meeting with Taehyung and you were back to your normal life. Unfortunately, the news that you had gone out with the CEO for lunch was the subject of conversation for the cubicles not too far from you. None of them have dared to ask you about it, for reason that you weren’t quite sure of. You just knew that the only way you were going to get those girls to stop gossiping was to ignore them completely.

You had quite a few calls this morning, no more than usual on a busy day but they came in back to back. Most of them were calling in regards to the new camera that just came out. Some were complaints, others were genuinely curious questions. Your supervisor came out of his office and you watched him survey the room until his eyes landed on you.

“Y/n, come to my office please.” He walks back to his office, urging you to follow.

You swallowed, putting the phone back on the hook and walking to his office. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine what he wanted.

“Yes?”

“You’ve been doing a great job, so don’t think I called you in here because you’re in trouble.” Those words soothed your weary expression. “I was asked by Mr. Kim, to give you this envelope this morning.” He reached into his desk to pull out a white envelope. “Here you go.”

“Oh, thank you.” You took the envelope and walked back to your cubicle. In the solitude of your little space, you opened up the envelope.

__, You’re probably wondering why I didn’t just call or text you. I wanted to know if you could meet me at the club we talked at the other night, I have something really important to talk to you about, please come.

Love, Kim Taehyung.

“Huh...”

“What’s that?” Your coworker in the cubicle across from you noticed the envelope in your hands.

“Oh, nothing, just some notice from HQ or something...” You opened up your desk and shoved it in your drawer. She didn’t look too convinced but she left the subject alone for the most part.

You laid on your bed, pen in your hand, notebook in your lap, and earbuds snug in your ears. Excessive studying had begun to bore you. You decided to set the book down and scroll through your phone absentmindedly.

I had a great time Suzette

You froze, eyes widening in suspicion. You sat up, seeing if someone had opened your room door or something. Where did that come from? It sounded oddly like her uncle's voice.

The kids are home, my mom and niece are taking care of them, but my wife doesn’t get off until 7 today

You were sure that was him now. You weren’t sure where it was coming from especially since you had your music on full blast. But when you took the earphones, you could hear the conversation amplified. Quietly, you sneaked up to your window on your hands and knees, pushing hair away from your face. To your distaste, you saw your uncle, leaning into the window of some woman's car—for your aunt's sake, you hoped that woman was just a friend.

I’ll see you on Friday, bring your swimsuit

He kissed her cheek—ok so they’re definitely more than friends. To ensure that he didn’t see you, you scurried away from the window and ran downstairs to help your grandma with dinner. After you washed up, you began to cut the vegetables for the salad as Daisy, the toddler of the bunch, played in the living room with her older brother.

“Hey guys, I’m home.”

The little kids, all 4 of them ran up to greet their dad, you merely waved. Little did they know, their daddy wasn’t the superhero of a man he portrayed himself to be.

“Food smells good mom.” He walked into the kitchen to search the fridge for something to drink as he always did.

“Thanks, son, it’s your favorite, stewed chicken and rice.” She smiled as he pecked her cheek. Now it was time to greet the only teenager in the house.

“How was school, __?”

“It was school, nothing special.” You mumbled, cutting the tomato with one of your earbuds still in.

“Oh, well, just so you all know, I have to go out of town on-”

“Friday?” You suddenly blurted out, earning you an odd look from him.

“Yeah, how did you know?” He furrowed his brow in suspicion.

Save yourself Y/n. “Um, just a guess.” He looked like he thought nothing of it and went back to the conversation. It took everything in you not to say what you saw, what you heard. It burned at the tip of your tongue.

After dinner.

You stood in front of the sink, washing dishes like you always did after dinner. Even though you all had a dishwasher, grandma always insisted that you wash them by hand. It was annoying but you did it.

“Hey, your aunt wanted to know if you’ll take Josie to elementary school tomorrow, she’s gotta go in early.” Uncle walked into the kitchen, a bowl of cereal in hand.

“Sure, I guess I’ll skip class.” You muttered, a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

“Well, you shouldn’t skip class-”

“It’s not a big deal, I was gonna skip anyway.” You cut him off. You two had always had this tense relationship. He would say something, you’d saying something back, he’d get offended, the usual argument followed suit. You remember his rage when he saw you got a nose piercing, it was fake and so you felt no need not to wear it. It’s your nose after all.

“Oh.” He stood there for a little while, reading over some bills and such.

“So, you’re going out of town...” You thought you’d be the one to bring it up.

“Yep.”

“Somewhere sunny, I’m guessing?”

You furrowed his brows, wondering why you’d say that. “Um, sure, I guess.”

“Why don’t you bring your wife with you? She hasn’t had a vacation in a while.”

“Because it’s work.”

“Or is it because Suzette will be there?” You had stopped washing dishes now.

“Suzette?” His brows knitted further. “How do you know Suzette? I’ve never mentioned her before.” Now he was suspicious.

You sighed, biting your lip anxiously. “You’re making a mistake, ok. You have a wife and kids, your family is worth more than some lady.”

“__, are you hearing yourself? Suzette is a co-worker and we happen to work in the same city this weekend.”

“And you guys plan to do some fucking swimming while you’re there?” You spat, raising your voice a bit through clenched teeth. “Yeah, that sounds like tiresome, boring work.”

He tensed—there is no way you should have heard him, that wasn’t possible

“You need to think before you speak __, you could get yourself in a lot of trouble. How the hell did you even hear that? Did you wire my bag or something? Where are you getting all of this?-”

“Look, I know what I heard.” You stormed away, trying to get away from him but he grabbed your wrist. “What.” You hissed.

“What are you up to, little girl? Do you think this is funny or something? You storm around me like some ungrateful bitch and I put up with it since the day you got here. I won’t be disrespected in my own home.”

“Let go of my arm.” You tried to pull away but he was relentless.

He gripped you harder. “I’m only gonna say this once, stay out of my business __, I mean it.”

The threat only made you spite him more. You felt anger and fear begin to bubble in your chest as he eyed you like a hawk. How dare he even insinuate that you were ridiculous when you saw with your own eyes what he was doing. You stared at him with a blank expression, your knuckles turning white as you clenched your fists impossibly tight. “L-let go.”

“Did you hear what I just-” He paused. A white heat began to incase his entire body, his hands trembled as a high-pitched ringing started to torture his senses, he stepped back. “What the hell?”

You got away and ran upstairs.

“__! I’m not done talking to you young lady-”

“Leave me alone!”

You gritted your teeth, trying to conceal your voice. You closed your door, locking it and jumping to lay on your bed. It was hard not to hate his guts sometimes, he was so annoying sometimes. You wondered what your real dad would have been like...

You heard a knock on the door but you willed yourself to ignore the sounds.

The door creaked as he opened it. “Hi, can I help you?”

“Hello there, I know it’s late but my name is agent Susan Black, I’m with the Scientific Research and Medical Advancements recovery efforts. I’m here to get records for the people living in your home for safety, it’s protocol. We’ve been made aware that you’ve been avoiding our calls and emails for you to turn in all the residents of this home's birth records.” She smiled, he knew this would catch up with him. “You’re making us really suspicious Mr. Kang.”

He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. “I’ll make sure that happens in the next week, but now isn’t the best time.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do it now sir, just before the end of the year. Goodnight sir- Oh, and don't forget, it’s for the safety of society.”

“Dr. Kim, what do you think about The 1989 Project, I know you used to work here back then?”

One of the resident doctors stopped by Dr. Kim’s office to hand off some papers. “I know a lot of the rumors are true, and that even you worked with Zoe Akasma Hawn to get her back to health.”

The older man sighed, thinking of the horrible state of that girl. “I don’t have a lot to say about it.”

“Oh, come on Doctor, I know you must think something of it.” He pried.

“I just hope the surviving participants get the help that they need, that’s all.” His answer is wholesome, not one you can really argue.

“You can’t possibly think that those experiments have a chance of molding into society, do you?”

“You never know.” That’s all he had to say before resuming his papers. His phone rang suddenly.

“Hello?”

“Hey dad, I can’t come by this evening, I have a thing.” Taehyung never missed coming to see his dad, so whatever it was, it must be important. “Sorry.”

“This thing must be important, huh?” He smiled through the phone.

“Yeah, I’ll see you. Love you, dad.”

“I love you too, son.”

Taehyung tucked his phone into his pocket and got out of the car, hoping he wouldn’t be waiting here all night. It was sunset, he entered the club and found a seat near the band and waited, anxiously. The tingling in his chest reminded him how nervous he was, what if you decided not to show up? That wouldn’t be a surprise given the feelings you have towards him—if you could call those feelings. When you ran out of the restaurant the other day, he had never felt so out of place in his life. He did put you on the spot when he asked about your family and you did not react well. But in his defense, he didn’t know it was a touchy subject.

“Can I get you anything?” A young waitress, who looked rather swoon by his appearance walked up to him.

“Not now, I’m waiting for someone.” Her expression saddened when she connected the dots. He wasn’t alone this evening and she could forget about hitting it big with a guy like him.

Thirty minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into an hour and a half. He had finally settled for ordering tea and leaving, but then you were walking in through the front door—you were wearing a black t-shirt, sneakers, and jeans. Your hair laid close on your shoulders as your eyes scanned the room for him. Before he could beckon you over, your eyes found him and you were walking towards him. With a breathless huff, you sat in the chair across from him, the air around you immediately took effect on him. His chest started to tingle but he managed to push the excitement down.

“So,” You exhaled, “what’s so important?” Your voice was soft, low, kind despite its cutting edges in tone.

“I...” He scrambled for his reasoning for calling you. “I called the office for you yesterday, but they said you weren’t there.”

“I had a few things I had to take care of, is that why you called me here?...” If that was the reason, you were sure he was taking this interest in you too far. “To see why I wasn’t at work? I asked my manager if it was ok-”

“No, that’s not why. I-...” He tapped absentmindedly on his ceramic cup, attempting to compile a coherent sentence. “Um...”

“Taehyung,” You cut him off, your patience running thin. “I really don’t have all night, I walked here from the subway station 15 minutes from here and I need to get back home...”

“The government contacted the company. They’ve been looking to see if any of my employees are affiliated with Jane Sato or know anything about The 1989 Project. I’ve heard that you’re one of the few people that haven’t been officially cleared by the SRMA recently.” He cleared his throat. “Do you know anything about it?”

“No, not a thing...” You deadpanned, eyes going between your hands and the live band in the background. You were starting to get that feeling again, the same feeling you felt the night you saw him, the icy burn at the tip of your fingers, and the pit of your stomach.

“And honestly, I don’t believe in that stuff. The whole Zoe Hawn case seemed like the government had too much to do with it. Put a feral looking failed experiment on the TV and everyone wants to get tested, it’s a hoax. Those hybrids, experiments- Whatever they're called, they have nothing to do with me. I don’t want to have anything to do with them either.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “So, does this not look familiar to you?” You reached for it, fingers grazing it lightly before you gradually opened it up. A photo—a photo of a bunch of doctors and scientists, you weren’t sure. Your eyes scanned the individuals in the picture and you frowned.

Your gaze turned cold. “Where did you get this...”

“These are the doctors and scientist involved in the 1989 project, I got it from a physician I know. He thought I should show it to some of my employees. Do any of them look familiar?” He tilted his head, doe eyes too round and distracting for you at the moment.

You gulped. “No.”

He moved to grasp the photo. “I just thought you might’ve-...”

“I don’t know who any of those people are.”

A spark ignited from the tip of your fingers.

When your hands touched, it was as if a white light engulfed his vision and an achingly loud thump reverberated in your ears, you yanked your hand away instantly. There was no denying that you felt something and you didn’t like it. He stared up at you, lips parted in shock as you mirrored his expression but in a rigid manner. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, probably drawing blood, and for the second time around him, your anxiety decided to devour you from the inside out.

“I-...I’m leaving.” You abruptly pushed away from the table and stormed out of the club, photo in hand.

“Hey! Wait!” He ran behind you, trying not to lose you since you were already halfway down the sidewalk. You retained a steady pace of running but you could tell he was hot on your trail, you could run down to the subway and try to lose him there but you hated getting on the subway at this hour.

You swiftly shoved the photo in your pocket and bolted down the alleyway. For a moment, you paused so you could catch your breath, leaning back against the rough brick walls and letting your eyelids flutter closed. Why is this happening to me and why now? You managed to calm yourself from the constant pound of your heartbeat. When you heard panting, you slowly opened your eyes.

He caged you, his eyes boring into your soul.

Your eyes widened, jumping back to run away but he seized your wrists. “Leave me alone!”

“Why did you run?!” He seethed, trying to stay calm. “Calm down, shh!” The words leaving his throat like a suppressed cough. You pushed at his chest, trying not to look him in the eye. “Stop trying to run away! Listen to me, please.” It was a firm plea, one you had never heard from anyone before. “If you’d just let me explain-”

You weren’t having it.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?!” You jerked away, getting away from the wall so you could make a run for it but you felt a sharp pain in your head. You hunched over, clutching your forehead in your hands. “Ah...” You winced, your breathing unsteady and your stance shaky. The throbbing had increased and your vision was beginning to get blurry.

Taehyung reached out to you, his hand gripping your arms. “Y/n, stop fighting it...”

“Get the hell away from me!-“ You were pulling away, hitting, clawing at his arms and everything to get him to let you go. Despite your resistance, he wrapped his arms around you, his body being so close had made your pulse skyrocket. This was too much, it physically, emotionally, mentally, pained you the more you tried to getaway.

“Please, don’t fight me-” He tried to speak calmly but it was hard when you insisted on thrashing about. “S-stop fighting me, I’m not gonna hurt you, you can trust me,” His heart sank when he saw that look in your eyes, the look of an innocent creature in pain—you were scared. “We’re the same.”

“N-no, leave me alone,” Your stance wavered and you fell silent, tears building at your eyes. You were on the verge of sobbing. “Just leave me alone, I can’t be around you...”

There was so much energy emanating around you, through your bones. You could feel everything—you could hear everything. The buzz of street lights, bickering old couples on the top floor of this old apartment, honking horns of impatient drivers, a sobbing teen curled up on a cold tile floor. It was as if all living things were coursing through you—a razor-sharp current of light and darkness stabbing you from the inside out.

The sound of something cracking, the sound so unbearably familiar that he found it difficult to physically control himself.

“Y/n, don’t fight it...it’s okay...” His hands clung to your lower back and the back of your neck, keeping you anchored against him, your hands still pushing him away. His lips parted, a shaky breath leaving his mouth when you tensed.

“I know...I feel it too.”

Absolute darkness, dull obscurations ravaged your sight and you fell limp—you blacked out.

#bts au #bts mutant au #bts hybrid au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts scenarios #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #Taehyung smut #taehyung hybrid #taehyung mutation #taehyung mutant au #bts #color me moonight #id love to hear your feedback! it means the world to me :)#goodnight 🌙🌙#bts scifi au

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jeonsdear · 7 years ago

Text

It’s you - (VI)

↬ Parts: I , II, III, IV, V , VII , VIII, IX , X, XI

↬ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (oc: female)

↬ Genre: college!au, noona!reader, soulmate!au, fluff, angst, smut

↬ Rating: sfw

↬ Warnings: none

↬ Accompanying song: HENRY 헨리 ‘It’s You’ (Live Ver.) (check out the spotify version too!)

↬ Notes: Hey! Here’s the 6th part. Hope you enjoy, loves. A little fluff after the angst for you before we move onto trying to figure out how Jungkook can help you♡ And please let me know what you think, that’s a great motivation for writing - and I love talking to you. Likes and especially reblogs are always appreciated ♡ — Read this part on AO3 if that’s easier for you — English isn’t my first language so excuse any mistakes

↬ Word Count: 2.5 K

When you are not fed love on a silver spoon you learn to lick it off knives.

Starting your senior year at college you promised yourself to make the most of it. But after watching your best friend taking her boyfriend Jungkook for granted and your own soulmate drowning in despair, you find yourself caught in a web of lies and heartbreak. How can you believe in love when the one destined for you doesn’t want you?

read my stories here request imagines, reactions and text messages here find me on archive of our own here

Your hands were trembling when you reached for your phone that laid under your pillow. The bright screen illuminated the dark room and you were forced to squint to find Jungkook’s number in your contacts.

He picked up after 5 seconds and his voice was low and groggy as he replied to your breathless “Jungkook“.

“Noona, I’m okay. Listen to my voice and close your eyes.“

“Jungkook I-“

“I know, baby. Close your eyes and focus on my voice, c’mon.“

So you did. You closed your eyes and focused on Jungkook’s voice talking about how he burnt dinner a few hours ago. You didn’t even notice his pet name for you, too caught in the remains of your dream.

They had started a few days after you had realized you lost your soulmate. The nightmares. They were always about Jungkook dying and you didn’t know why. But his death was always different. Every night you would wake up with his name on your lips or tears streaming down your face. Sometimes he was murdered. Fell to his death. Committed suicide.

But this time? This time he died protecting you.

Jungkook knew about your dreams, knew that they involved his death, and ever since the first night you had called him crying making sure he still was alive, he picked up every single night. It was taking a toll on him, partly because he was missing precious sleep and partly because he was so concerned.

Oh, not concerned your dreams might be some kind of foreshadowing. He didn’t believe in this nonsense. Rather he was concerned about your health. Physical and mentally. As it was, the dreams made you afraid of falling asleep, resulting in you pulling all-nighters and surviving on Red Bull. So far he hadn’t figured out how to help you, but he made sure his phone was within arms reach when he went to bed. So he could reassure and soothe you every night.

Right now he was talking about possible painting the kitchen isle blue and his arguments didn’t even make sense but that didn’t matter. It never did. He knew you were only listening to the sound of his voice and not really paying attention to his words. You only needed to know he was alright and his soft and sleepy voice helped you calm down.

Jungkook waited until your breathing had audibly calmed down and your quiet sniffles had stopped. A few seconds later he heard hiccups coming through the speakers of his phone and a soft smile played on his lips when he hummed comfortingly.

“Are you okay now? Do you want to talk about it?“

You were silent while you wiped the tears from your face and sat on the edge of your bed. You had turned on all the lights in your small room to chase away the memory of Jungkook stepping in front of a car for you.

“It was different this time, Gukie.“, you whispered and you know that the quite sigh coming from Jungkook wasn’t annoyment.

“What was different?“

You opened your mouth to answer but suddenly you hesitated and bit your lip. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to tell him. There were no real secrets between you two anymore. But while all your dreams always felt very real, this one felt…too intimate. You felt it echoes in your heart and the scare of watching Jungkook dying because of you hadn’t left your body yet.

“Nothing. Thank you, Jungkook.“

You walked over to your closet and put a sweatshirt over your top and your leggings while slipping into you trainers laying on the floor.

“Can I come over?“

The surprised gasp from Jungkook had you grinning and since you already knew what his answer would be you quietly left your room, trying not to wake your housemate.

“It’s half past 3 in the morning, Noona. Do you want me to come over?“

“You only live a few blocks away I can manage that, Jungkook.“

You practically felt his nod, so you grabbed your keys and your jacket.

“Take clothes and your laptop for class with you. You can shower at mine.“

You were just about to open the door, but his words made you freeze and then you hurriedly packed a few things for your little stayover.

“Ever so thoughtful, Jeon.“, you teased him and you heard his chuckle when you shut the door behind you and walked across the street towards the dorm building Jungkook lived with his flatmate.

“That’s me. Stay on the phone please.“

You jogged as the night was freezing, oddly enjoying the silence of the usual so lively campus. It helped you quiet down your mind and you realized that it had only been a dream.

God, you thought, this was the reason you were scared of going to sleep. But your body was completely exhausted. You had tried staying up with several cups of coffee but around 12 you had given in. You knew you couldn’t keep on avoiding sleep if you wanted to function but the dreams felt too real for you to just brush them off.

There had to be medication, right? Maybe you should ask some pre-med student.

“I’m coming.“, you informed him as you climbed the stairs up to his floor, noticing the light coming through the door at the end of the corridor.

Jungkook’s door.

When you reached it, Jungkook was already waiting for you and grabbed your arm to pull you inside with him.

“We’re alone.“, he informed you and you both ended the call.

His eyes searched your face and suddenly his hand was on the back of your neck and he pulled you into his chest. Even if you had wanted to you wouldn’t be able to not give into the warmth radiating off him in waves, offering you safety and the proof of his death just being something your mind had made up in its madness.

So you melted into his embrace and your arms circled his waist as you buried your face into where his shoulders met his neck. Your sigh made Jungkook’s heartache and he tightened his hold on you, lowering his face and rubbing his nose softly against your hair. Had you always smelled this good?

“I can’t do this anymore, Jungkook.“, you murmured and squeezed your eyes shut against the soft feel of his skin. You didn’t realize how you were rubbing your nose against his skin but Junkook surely did as he had goosebumps all over his body.

“I actually thought about it and I want to try something.“

Furrowing your brows, you lifted your face and met his eyes with yours.

Moles. Cute.

Your random appreciation of his moles made you smile and Jungkook cooked his head in a way that made your heart flutter.

“What do you mean?“, you asked and started to pull away but couldn’t when Jungkook wouldn’t budge an inch.

“Sleep with me.“

Your eyebrows almost disappeared in your hairline and it took Jungkook a few seconds to realize how his proposition sounded.

“This-No no! That’s not what I mean. I mean sleeping.“

The horror in his voice had you laughing and you watched with delight how he became even more flustered.

“Not sure whether I should be offended by your reaction or…“

Jungkook groaned: “No no no that’s not…can you just shut up.“

He let go of you and bowed down to pick up your bag with the stuff you packed and walked towards his room.

“Listen, I have a theory.Your subconscious is dreaming about my death. What if you can feel and smell me next to you? Your body will know I’m okay. So no nightmares.“

You trailed after him, listening to the train of his thoughts and you had to admit it sounded reasonable. But most of all you wanted to believe there was a way out of your sleepless nights.

“It can’t hurt to try, huh.“

“Exactly.“

He yawned when he put down your bag and turned towards you. You had been in his room before, and it was still as messy as last time. But cosy. And it smelled like him.

“We both have early classes tomorrow…today…so let’s try to get some sleep okay?“

You slipped under the covers after him and settled on the left side of the bed. All these pillows and blankets made you sigh in content and you buried your face under the soft fabrics. Taking a deep breath, you inhaled the younger boy’s scent and you wondered how someone could smell like home like that.

Suddenly Jungkook whined and pulled at the pillows covering your head and he watched your hands coming up trying to hold them in place.

“Noooooona, “, he whined and you laughed as he poked you in your sides.

“Don’t hog all the pillows. I like it cosy.“

Your head came up and Jungkook had to hold himself back from reaching forward and brushing the hair out of your face.

“I know you do. You’re such a cuddler. That’s why your bed is all pillows and blankets.“

His pout made you feel giddy and you giggled as you threw a pillow at his face.

During the short time you had been in his company, the remembrance of your dream had faded and your heart felt a little lighter again. But that was Jungkook’s effect. You always felt more you when you were with him.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt the pillow you had previously thrown at Jungkook hit your face, and your surprised expression made him laugh. The mattress moved as he settled down and buried himself under tons of blankets, looking up at you through his dark eyelashes. A boyish smile played on his lips and you could have sworn he never looked softer than in this moment. Suddenly one strong arm darted out from under the covers and gently pulled you towards him.

“Did you know you have dimples?“, you murmured as you let him arrange your body next to his. His hum vibrated against your ear as he lifted one of the covers and draped it over you. You hadn’t been kidding when you accused him of being a cuddler. Right now, instead of telling you to stay on your side and keep your hands to himself, he arranged you in a way that the length of his body was pressed against yours. As if he felt your hesitation, he put one hand on the back of your head and pillowed it on his muscular chest.

“No shit Sherlock.“, he teased you and suddenly you felt two strong arms circle around your waist and your calves tangled with his.

“Stop thinking about my irresistible face and try to get some sleep. I’ll protect you.“

Jungkook didn’t know whether your snort was due to his daring comment about his face or whether you didn’t trust him to protect you. But he needed you to know he was serious about the latter.

“You don’t think I can? Watch me. Will you voluntarily try to sleep or do I have to sing?“

Fun fact about Jungkook? He had a voice of an angel. You hadn’t known until you had heard him under the shower singing while you were waiting for him to get ready. Ever since you had been obsessed with his voice, encouraging him to post covers on YouTube. So far you had no luck, but sometimes when you were being extra nice he would sing to you. The words ‘yes please‘ sat on the tip of your tongue, but you swallowed them when you were reminded of the cause of his death in the recent dream of yours.

“Don’t protect me. I will protect you. I’m the oldest.“

He shot you a funny look but you kept your eyes averted as you reached over his body to turn off the lamp on the bedside table.

Darkness engulfed you two as you settled back onto his chest, not really complaining about the undoubted intimacy. If you were honest with yourself, you would acknowledge how much you enjoyed this. How much you enjoyed Jungkook. You loved feeling his arms around you, knowing that he felt just as comfortable as you did. Yes, Jungkook was a cuddler. But only with selected people. And somehow you had become one of them.

Your ear laid upon the spot where his heart was sat inside his ribcage and the steady thump thump of the muscle made you realize how tired you actually were.

“Jungkook?“, you whispered.

“Hm?“

You could hear he was on the verge of falling asleep, but when you said his name he rubbed his nose against your hair.

“What if this works?“

“Then you can finally sleep again. Don’t worry, I’m sure it will work. Are you afraid to fall asleep right now?“

“No.“, you admitted quietly and your little yawn had him smiling against the crown of your head.

“But Gukie. We can’t sleep like that every day.“

You couldn’t see it in the dark, but Jungkooks brows furrowed as he tried to understand what you were getting it. Until he understood.

“Oh.“, he murmured and chewed on his lower lip. Right. You would be dependent on him. But…he didn’t mind? No, he definitely didn’t, Jungkook realized as he hummed a low melody. He liked falling asleep like that. With you nestled against him.

“Guess we will have to switch roommates.“

He felt your jolt and his thumb automatically rubbed soothing circles into the skin of your shoulder.

“What?“

“Y/n, I’m not going to let you lose any more sleep. We can try to move into a flat on campus.“

“You would do this?“

The disbeliever in your voice had him clicking his tongue at you. Did you seriously expect him to let you drown in your misery?

“Sure. It would be fun. It’s not like we don’t spend the majority of our time together anyway.“

“B-but..but this is different. It’s not normal t-“

“To share a bed? I used to with the boy I was friends with in the children’s home. Trusting someone enough to sleep next to them is healthy, Noona. It’s nice. I like it. Or do you feel uncomfortable?“

“N-no.“

“Do you feel safe?“

“I do Jungkook it’s just-“

“Then stop. This feels nice for us both. And you know I’d never try anything that makes you uncomfortable. And you would never do something to make me feel uncomfortable. So please, can we sleep now?“

It was silent for a few seconds and you listened to the sound of the clock on the wall.

“Okay bun.“

“Aish seriously? Bun, Noona?“

You smiled as you closed your eyes and allowed your body and mind to relax, feeling sleep softly trying to lull you in.

“You’re a bunny.“

“Am not.“

“Yes you are. The most adorable one.“

Jungkook groaned and seriously questioned the kind of image he displayed. He and adorable?

“I’m not adorable, I’m hot.“

He almost didn’t get your reply over his loud yawn but your: “You’re both Gukie.“, had excitement running through his veins along with endless fondness for the girl in his arms. He didn’t dare question the feelings contracting his heart so he settled on pressing a quick but soft kiss on your head while he listened to your breaths starting to even out as you were drifting off to sleep.

Now all he had to do was to keep your demons away.

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b4kuch1n · 6 years ago

Text

two ghosts in Morioh

another day of running around taking care of businesses with my mom. Got some down time in the afternoon and spent it on this. yes Im a fluff writer now. somebody take me out the back

warning for non-plot, terrible poetry (Im serious. Ive never written a poem in english before. its not too nice to the hand), a filler OC thrown in on the spot, lotsa outta-nowhere headcanons, and all else possibly applicable.

Read on AO3

Okuyasu finally picked up.

Which was a good thing, because Josuke didn't wanna seem fussy or overbearing. 'twas a lost cause anyway, his mom would tell him, given that he had been anxious ever since he came home from the supposed double date that afternoon, and had walked from one end of the hall to the other over forty time (yes, she counted up until forty), mumbling to himself, hands firmly in his pants' pockets because he knew the moment he stopped holding it tight he would ruin his pomp by running his hand through his hair in frustration. An emotion that he caused to himself, his mom would remind him, because he refused to just walk over to Okuyasu's house and knock.

When the boy in question finally picked up, Josuke was a bit stiff from the draft in the hallway as well as from the tension built up by being stubborn. Okuyasu's voice only just managed to break through.

“Josuke?”

He sounded a bit hoarse. “Yeah, dude, I'm here,” Josuke said. The tension didn't leave him immediately like he hoped. “You didn't come.”

“Fuck, sorry about that. I'm jus'... 'm not in the best mood right now. Didn't wanna ruin it for you guys.”

“Shit, what happened? You okay?” Josuke could hear something fell on the floor with a metallic clunk. “What's that?”

“Oh it's-- 's the paint can. I'm fixin' up big bro's room upstairs. Been meaning to for a while now so... It's.” Okuyasu trailed off.

Josuke felt his shoulders stiffen up a bit more.

“It's some'n to do.”

Josuke bit his lip. After a moment of consciously picking off all traces of anxiety from his manners, he said, calmly, “I'm gonna come over.”

“No, dude, y'don't have to!” Okuyasu immediately barked, with something like panic in his tone. “I'm a bummer right now,” he added, almost sheepishly. “It's dumb, it'll go away on its own. Jus' some'n from the class.”

“Don't even think of it as me coming over to comfort you if that's better.” Josuke had to actively try to stay nonchalant now. “I'm helping with the room fixin'. It's gonna take the rest of the night with just you. That cool?”

He just caught his free hand moving towards his head on its own when Okuyasu sighed and he could hear the paint can being picked up. “Fine. I'm gonna be upstairs, let yaself in when you're over.”

By August 1999, Okuyasu had been sleeping in the guest room downstairs for ten months.

Keicho was a private person, and nobody could blame him at that. No kid would want to leave their toys trailing about when their father was so quick to anger. Keicho had faced so much of that misdirected rage, had put himself between his father and his younger brother so many times, that anything he had that wasn't broken he held on with an almost death grip. His routines, his CD collection, his rules, his own anger. He never learned to let go, and Okuyasu, whom Morioh had given more chances than it ever did his brother, had been feeling something like pity for that, and then guilty for pitying his brother.

He didn't really want to use Keicho's room again, especially when he never got his brother's permission. When Keicho had left balancing the book in Okuyasu's hand, their life became a clash between Okuyasu's fussing about trying to take care of things and Keicho's own rhythm and order, the solution to which that they came up with being that Keicho got the entirety of the second floor to himself. Okuyasu didn't mind – everything was simple with him, really – but after Keicho's death he felt even more out of place in that part of the house.

“It's fine if you wanna seal it off, dude,” Josuke told him one evening when he stayed the night, “you're the one living here. It's not like people know or care about that stuff, either way.” Josuke was smart, but he also believed in courtesy and manners even though he had been subjected to so much of the opposite of that, and it made for a strange kind of trust in humanity. One that was different from Okuyasu's own.

So in the end he decided to only seal Keicho's room. He had been slowly packing everything his brother left behind in the house into small carboard boxes and stashing them in the hallway. He wanted to keep a whole afternoon and evening free just to fix up the room itself, but he didn't think today would be it.

“Yeah, Koichi actually steered me home the moment we were sure you wouldn't show,” Josuke said mid-sweep. “I don't think Yukako mind. Actually I'm pretty sure Yukako doesn't really want me there third wheeling them. Gotta say I was about the same.”

“Sorry for leaving you hangin',” Okuyasu repeated, just as apologetic as when he said it the first time.

“It's not your fault you aren't well, dude,” Josuke stood up straight, free hand in his pocket. “Though a word beforehand would be good. But you were home late from the class, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Goto-sensei holding you up again?”

“Nah, he's nice.” He would be, after Josuke and Okuyasu dragged him out of some serious troubles last month. He was also a nice man in general. Okuyasu thought his writing style really didn't reflect that.

Josuke raised an eyebrow at his answer. Well, Josuke would have a different impression of Mister Goto Azuma, moderately famous novelist, given that the one who had to take a pen in the arm to grab the man (then under a Stand's control) was him and not Okuyasu. That kind of viciousness must keep people wary for a long time. Not to mention the apology gift they got was a place in Goto's ten-hour creative writing course organized by the uni, which was of no use to Josuke, but which Okuyasu snatched right up.

Outside of that event though, Goto-sensei was a mild-mannered, if a bit emotional and wordy person. He had anguish in his heart, sure, but he told Okuyasu once in class, in the tone of someone who was citing their name and age, that he wanted to love everything and anything more than he wanted to wallow in his sadness, so he channeled all of it into his writing and left his personal life free for his other emotions. Okuyasu found that a good way to do things as any.

“I'm gonna trust you on that,” Josuke said after a stretch of silence. Okuyasu grinned. “Anyway, something happened during the writing class then?”

“Yeah-- well, nah, but yeah.” Okuyasu rubbed his hands nervously under Josuke's confused look. “I mean, kinda? Goto-sensei gave us a prompt, and then I wrote something sad, and it bummed me out. 's all.”

Josuke's eyes grew wide. “Oh,” he said, “huh.”

“Yeah, it's dumb. Tolja don't mind it.”

“It's not dumb if it bums you out, dude.” Josuke leaned the broom against the desk and stepped closer to Okuyasu. His pomp looked almost plastic-ish under the buzzing light of the room. Okuyasu blinked when he held his biceps with both his hands. “I like you happy, Okuyasu. We gotta go there somehow, and I'm not a waiting man.”

Okuyasu looked at Josuke, eyes somehow brighter than the light should've made them, hands holding him firm as if willing him to believe. As if that had ever been necessary. He took a deep breath, and broke out in a grin.

“Thought so. You're a musical man.”

“Hell yeah I am.” The grin crept up onto Josuke's face, and he dragged Okuyasu in for a quick hug. “So, what's that piece you wrote today about?”

“I mean, you can read it.”

It must be impossible for Josuke's eyes to grow wider than this. This was maximum wide eye for him. “Really?”

“'s not fine art or some'n, but if you're cool with that, why the hell not. Wait here.”

Josuke waited in Keicho's half-cleaned room while Okuyasu went downstairs to fetch his notebook. Goto-sensei didn't care what his students did with what they wrote after class (“It's yours,” he had said, with passion, “and me telling you what to do with what's inherently yours is against everything I live for. Any experience you have with your own writing is deeply personal and unique, and if that includes setting your drafts on fire and inhaling the smoke, who am I to keep that from you?” He seemed to actually got misty-eyed at that idea.), but Okuyasu liked the man, and he thought keeping the things he wrote in his class in order was a way to show respect to a good teacher. Or it could at least make up for his terrible handwriting.

He flipped through the notebook as he went back upstairs. Man, he wrote more than he thought he did.

“Here,” he handed the notebook – opened to the correct page – to Josuke, who had finished sweeping the room and was bouncing on the balls of his feet in a subdued excitement. Josuke seemed extra careful with his hold on the thing.

“It's a poem?” Okuyasu didn't think that was actually meant to be a question, but he faltered a bit nonetheless.

“It's-- yeah. You aren't into that?”

“Dude, I barely read actual literature no matter what kind, that's not the thing. I'm just... poems are supposed to be even more about emotions than, like, novels and shit, right? I, uh...”

Josuke bit his lip. Okuyasu tried to follow the thread of logic.

“Goto-sensei said our writing is whatever we will it to be. If ya worry this won't be manly and cool, I'm gonna. I'm gonna will it into being for ya.”

“It's not that, dummy.” Josuke smacked him over the head with the notebook. He was smiling again though, so Okuyasu didn't mind. “I just don't think I can get the whole experience without you, like, walking me through it. Since you're the one with the emotions in this poem and all. So can you...”

Okuyasu grabbed the notebook. He looked at Josuke, and then at the words on the page between them, and then tentatively finished that hanging thought. “...recite it for ya?”

“Forget it if it bums you out again, okay?” Josuke held his hands up. “I'm cool either way. I wanna read it properly, sure, but if it's gonna ruin the night for you then forget it.”

Okuyasu stood there with his own notebook in his hand, with his boyfriend, in his brother's room that they were cleaning. He looked at Josuke, and then up at the buzzing light, and then at Keicho's CD collection on the shelf, newly dusted.

Finally he took a deep breath and said, “I'm not gonna hold onto it like that, dude.” And then he took Josuke's hand and said, “Let's come up to the roof for a bit.”

They left Keicho's room behind and went up to the attic, from where they climbed their way awkwardly up onto the Nijimuras' newly re-tiled roof. August was too early to feel chilly at night in Morioh, but there were winds, and the sky was wide open. Okuyasu thought it was a good place as any to give the poem a reading.

They settled on the warm tiles, and then Okuyasu had to stand up to go get a flashlight, and when he came back to the roof Josuke was still there – as if he would go away the moment Okuyasu blinked – the notebook balanced on his thigh.

“Ready,” Josuke said once Okuyasu had sit back down snug next to him, partly as a question and partly as a confirmation of his own status, and Okuyasu nodded.

“Alright.”

Okuyasu had never recited a poem before. His mom was a storyteller when she was alive, but there was a long stretch of time during which her conditions worsened slowly and the occasions lessened until both her and the stories were gone. His dad wasn't a wordy man, not outside of anger and grief. Keicho really would rather have silence than a human voice outside of his own, and again Okuyasu couldn't blame him for that. Or even question it, really, not when Keicho had his CDs and treasured them so. Outside of all that, Okuyasu had also never been good at school. He had other things to do, and the few literature classes he actually sat in for never saw him chosen by a teacher to read anything out loud from the textbook.

So, Okuyasu didn't really know what he was doing, no. But he was also a simple man, and right now it was doing it or not doing it. And Josuke had casted his vote – the only one that counted here and now.

“It's called 1999,” he said, and found his voice a bit raspy. He didn't figure out to clear his throat.

Cigarette butt on the ground

he chose one to pick up

and hold like a torch

Hand over head

Whispers like smoke

flow

1999

numbers he carried

one

in his left pocket

on the pad

along the line

into the waves

it's important, that's what he said

Cigarette butt in the air

His hand red

His eyes red

through them, the sky orange

twilight is for a while,

if statues are the same

1999

replays dissolve

into statics

into waves

away

one

on his lips

I didn't mean it like that,

or was it

I never told him,

or even

I don't think he knows,

that's what he said

Cigarette butt against the sky

futile

1999

variables

one

dissolved into the waves

my name is doubt,

and his I never got

1999

I met two ghosts in Morioh.

They were quiet a long time after that. When Josuke spoke up, he sounded like he just cried a bit. “Dude, that's so fucking sad.”

Okuyasu tried to keep himself from shining the flashlight on Josuke to see if he really had been crying. “For real? I don' even know what it's exactly about anymore. Jus' a buncha, uh, concepts put together randomly.”

“It got emotions into me, alright? So it's good to me, deal with it.”

“It makes you sad!”

“It's good sad though. Like listening to a late artist's album sad.” Josuke threw an arm around Okuyasu's shoulders. “That's how art is.”

“Sure,” Okuyasu harrumphed, but then smiled to himself, just a bit.

The two sat there on the roof well into the night. At one point they found their hands intertwined; Okuyasu let himself lean into the contact, flashlight and notebook laid aside, essentially forgotten. Late night breeze felt like sleep.

“The point of that poem is that I love you,” he said, and let it be.

The hand in his own tightened, and Josuke replied, with all the conviction his being could store, “I know, dude. Love you too.”

#jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba #diamond is unbreakable #diu #okuyasu nijimura #josuke higashikata #josuyasu #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #man its been a while since I write something with romance that ends well #for any of the parties involved #but goddammit I just love the boys too much #I just (clenches fist) wish them all the good in the world #also headcanons stuffed in this fic include:#okuyasu writes #he won't trust himself to make a living out of it but he likes it #he also is actually pretty good with making calculations #as in addition substraction and shit #because when keicho started looking for dio and then the arrows he left taking care of the house to oku #that does include a lot of simple math #okuyasu can take care of that quick no problem but he gets stuck at logic math #like stuff with more letters than numbers in it #so he still doesnt do too well at school #yes I love okuyasu a lot what gives it away #and guess what!! I still have a lot left to give so Im gonna doodle the boys real quick tonight #have a good goddamn night guys I actually wrote something

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babyprime · 7 years ago

Note

Fallout !!!! For the ask meme

*longest ye boi ever*

Favorite character: im gonna have to go for ONE per game that ive played cause otherwise id just die probably? butch deloria, john hancock, and ten of spades. My Fuckening Boys.

Least Favorite character: i just do not goddamn care for that vulpes guy. i just dont fucking like him! everyone apparently thinks hes SO HOT but he annoys the shit out of me for some reason. ivehadenoughofthisdude.jpg i also feel this way abt maxson but i think they have something in common! ppl wanna fuck both of em for some reason so im constantly hearing about em to the point where its like Shut The Up

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): ive got like so many? butch/m!lone wanderer, nick/hancock, preston/hancock (which im convinced im the ONLY person on this earth to ship), m!courier/arcade, m!courier/ten of spades

Character I find most attractive: Daddy Valentine. and marcus. and preston. and hancock.

Character I would marry: preston garvey is the most marriage material in this franchise or any other

Character I would be best friends with: anyone who would let me make AWFUL kink jokes as my friends do and i feel in my heart that person would be deacon

A random thought: the first time i saw a feral ghoul in fo4 i literally got so scared i cried. like the graphics were TOO good and i wasnt expecting them to just GET UP like that even tho i knew they go dormant but it just startled me into tears. honestly my first feral encounter in any playthrough makes me jump but i just Did Not Like That

An unpopular opinion: i think its super unfair that the lone wanderer gets shit on if they dont willingly fucking die because theyre literally like 19 when a bunch of grown ass adults expect them to walk into a chamber of radiation for The Good Of The Capital or whatever. idk im not saying its not brave or noble or anything for them to do it but i didnt think it was fair for the ending narration to drag the hell out of them for getting scared and not being able to go through with it. i mean in general i dont think pretty much anything that happened regarding the lone wanderer was fair because their DAD started all that shit and they didnt ask to be born. they were raised in a fucking vault, they dont know shit about the wasteland and theyre like 21 at MOST at the end according to the canon timeline and everyones like “do this dangerous thing for us you actual goddamn teenager! we’re like 40 and lived here our whole lives but you can do it right!” and im sitting here like wtf i just left high school and if thats not a metaphor for real life idk what is

My canon OTP: technically me and preston garvey lmao

Non-canon OTP: please let m!lone wanderer and butch kiss im actually,,,, begging,,,,,,,, but also nick/hancock

Most badass character: well for 4 the obvious answer is hancock but as a companion i have to say preston fucking garvey and his god gun because regardless of what canon would imply as a COMPANION prestons never gotten hurt and sometimes ends up finishing fights before i even get there and hancock is a feeble old man with glass bones that needs 3 stimpacks an hour. in new vegas its like. boone TECHNICALLY but surprisingly arcade gannon is like lo key a goddamn beast bc u expect that shit from craig Eats Nails And Never Sleeps Or Smiles sniper copypasta come to life boone but when dr nerd takes out 3 raiders on his own before u even see them its like oh goddamn. but also grandpa bacon terrifies the absolute shit out of me. im not gonna fight him. he got set on fire thrown off a cliff and hes like 70 and i KNOW he could still destroy my whole ass if i got him mad so im not gonna try. idk what that man is made of but im p sure its 50% rage 50% jesus and i just dont want any part of it thanks

Pairing I am not a fan of: i dont like!! any pairing involving the legion! or maxson! im just tired of seeing them and i want them blacklisted from my life! but i also dont like m/f just in general as a personal pref, but esp with like…. legion/f!courier and shit. its got uncomfortable undertones. i dont like m/f!wanderer or m/f!courier or even m/f!sole when its an unnamed player character/intended self insert bc it makes me Dysphoric and feel skeeved out. but ill make an exception for garvey/f!sole if its my sole oc mags

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): theres so many characters that should have gotten more development but im p annoyed at how they like. HINT at pres stuff and then because of todd howard they dont go anywhere with it. im not exactly happy with in general how you dont rly get to talk to your companions that much. and then aside from that these games in general are notorious for giving u REALLY GOOD npcs that u can have 1 conversation with and then its like “ok now fuck off”. like ten of spades, bitter root, and jimmy in westside? like give them!! a sidequest or smthn!!! you cant just make me love a char and tell me to piss off!!!

Favourite friendship: betsy + ten and m!courier + veronica are wlw/mlm solidarity

#long post /#a very long post im sorry i love these games #ghastholes

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myotishia · 6 years ago

Text

Time hopping part one

Fandom: Torchwood. Trigger warnings: Emetophobia, suicide mention, death. Characters: Owen Harper (Past and present), Toshiko Sato, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Elise Carter (oc), Lisa Hallet Rating: Teen and up Tropes: We’re fixing things right over here.

Blurb: Owen Harper has been dead for a long time and he hasn’t spent all that time doing nothing. Far from it in fact, he’s been setting a plan that crosses time in motion but he needs help and he’s found just the person.

Elise followed the figure, rubbing the back of her right hand.

“Ready?” Owen asked.

“For what?”

“We’re going to time jump.”

“Sure, why not?” She crossed her arms, waiting for nothing to happen or to be woken up by the sound of a heart monitor in the hospital.

“Before we go, do you have paper and a pen?”

“Why would I have paper and a pen if I was going to jump into the bay?”

“Fucks sake. Fine, you need a coat anyway. Where’s your place?”

“I don’t exactly have one anymore. Can we find something on the way?”

Owen paused before heading over to a lamppost with a poster for some nightclub attached. “This’ll do. Grab this for me, I can’t hold anything for long.”

She raised an eyebrow but pulled down the poster is she’d been asked. “And a pen?”

“Use your eyes. People are always dropping the things.”

“Great.” She began scouring the area for something to write with, feeling ridiculous. Finally she found a crushed pen, the inner stylus still undamaged. “Got one, what now?”

“Write on the back. Do not damage. Gaseous lifeform inside. Needs airtight containment. Tell Gwen not to throw shit.”

Once the paper was written she looked up at Owen. “So now what?”

“We have to deliver it. Try not to throw up.”

“Wh-” She was cut off by the feeling of the world spinning in all directions before landing hard on the grass. It was a dark place, cold. The nausea hit her like a tidal wave and she lost her breakfast, behind a tree. “The hell!”

“Shhhh.” He scolded. “We’re trying not to be seen here. I can’t just time jump back if you get shot now.”

She sat back, catching her breath. “Shot?”

“Over there. See those tents? Think of the people in there like a really jumpy military group. We can’t get caught. Do you still have that letter?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Follow me and stay low.” He turned and headed slowly into the field, staying as low as he could. They seemed to be travelling towards a crater that had been illuminated with industrial looking lights. She could see two figures approaching it. One tall and wearing a large coat. The other smaller, female.

“Elise. You need to get that note over to them without being seen. That’s Jack and Gwen. Me and Tosh are in the crater.” Whispered Owen.

“A lot to unpack there but ok. How?”

“Think of something for yourself.”

She felt around for something to weigh the paper down so it didn’t fly off, finding a fist sized rock. She wrapped the letter around it and secured it with a spare hair band. Waiting until the figures were looking into the crater she wound up a throw and launched the rock over, hoping that it would hit the pole of one of the lights. It didn’t exactly go to plan. The rock missed the light and slammed itself into the back of the tall figures leg, sending him tumbling into the crater. Owen clamped his hand over his face trying, and failing, not to laugh. He time jumped them just as Gwen turned to see where the rock had been thrown from.

Elise sat on the curb trying to settle her stomach after the time jump. At least she hadn’t fallen over this time. She looked up to see Owen still laughing after seeing Jack fall face first into the crater.

“It wasn’t that funny.” She said and rolled her eyes.

Owen caught his breath, not that he really needed to since his death. “If you knew him it would be.”

“So, what now?”

“That was just a test. If you didn’t manage then it wouldn’t matter.”

“Oh great.” She brushed her hair back with her fingers. “I passed then?”

“I’ll give you an A… No, an A plus for launching Jack like that.”

“Better than any grade I got at school.”

Elise stood back up, the nausea settling to a manageable level. She watched Owen playing with his watch.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You said you can’t touch anything so how do you use your watch? In fact how are you wearing clothes?”

“Would you rather I didn’t?” A smirk spread across Owens face.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“My clothes were atomised with me so they’re almost part of me now.”

“And your watch? Did that go too?”

“No. This is something it took me a century to build using a few parts I scavenged. If Tosh had been around it would have only taken a week.”

She smiled softly hearing the warm sentiment from the phantom. “Who was she to you?”

“A friend.”

“It doesn’t sound like she was just a friend.”

“The me in the past was a moron. By the time I realised I was dead… So was she.”

The area seemed to fall silent. An uncomfortable moment passed before it was broken by Owen, back to business.

“What’s your opinion on euthanasia?” He asked, finally looking over at her with his inhumanly dark eyes.

“What?! Where did that come from?”

“The next job isn’t going to be fun for anyone so I need to know if you’ll be up to it.”

That uncomfortable silence had returned and it had gained a lot of weight. When Elise didn’t reply Owen continued.

“Remember I said there was another member of our team? Don’t give me that look we’re not killing him. He has his girlfriend hidden in the basement. She was partially converted into a cyberman a while ago and he’s been trying to find a way to save her. There isn’t a way to save her but she’s going to wake up soon and at doesn’t end well.”

“You want me to fight her?”

“Fuck no! She’d kill you. I need you to take her off life support before she can try and kill everyone.”

“Oh… I see.” She took a deep breath and slowly blew a cloud of condensation into the night air.

“Look I understand if you can’t do it b-”

“I’ll do it. If she’s like that then she’s suffering, right? And it must be killing your friend-”

“Workmate.”

“Workmate-”

“Tea boy.”

“Oh shut up! Let’s just go.” She shook her head and followed Owen as he strode off towards the locked up buildings nearby. An unassuming tourist information centre sat silent and dark, seemingly vacant.

Owen stopped at the door and looked around, pulling something from inside his coat. A set of keys rattled as he swiftly turned one in the lock before it began to turn to dust.

“Are those like your clothes?” Elise asked as she gently pushed the door open.

“Yep. I’m glad I was still carrying them otherwise neither of us would be here. Right, now keep behind me and keep quiet. Jack should be asleep so we shouldn’t have any trouble.” He held up a card key and a hidden door popped open in the wall, closing after Elise stepped through. It felt as if she’d stepped into a completely other dimension as her steps echoed softly through the tile lined hallway.

She whispered, “Where are we?”

“Torchwood. This was our base.”

“Fancy.”

“Wait until you get inside.”

“This isn’t inside?”

“Not even close.”

“Couldn’t we just jump inside? Like we did to the field.”

“No. This place is a nexus for time space bullshit and it completely nullifies my time hopping ability. Right this is about to get loud. If my timing’s right then Jack should be out cold and won’t bother us but just in case get ready to move.”

She nodded and braced herself for the noise. A siren blared above as the massive cog door, that Elise hadn’t realised even could move, rolled aside. Owen surveyed the dark room, paying extra attention to the glass walled office. It stayed still and seemingly empty so he waved her into the room.

“This place is huge.” She breathed, her eyes getting used to the darkness.

“This way.”

The autopsy bay was cold and smelled strongly of disinfectant as they entered, a light flickering on automatically and effectively blinding Elise for a moment.

“Shit!” She tried to shield her eyes with her arm. “You could have warned me.”

“Over here. Grab one of these bottles. If I remember right there’s basically an IV system keeping her partially sedated. All you need to do is contaminate it with this and that’ll be it.”

“That’s it?”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Something more violent I guess. Isn’t this a bit much?” She studied the bottle, the size of an average cola can.

“It’s overkill but I don’t want to take any chances. If you give her too little the cybernetic systems might take over and wake her up early. This way they’ll be too flooded to react.”

“You’d know better than me.”

“What do you do if she wakes up even with all of this?” He asked, looking up at the door.

“Umm… Run like hell?”

“Right. You run until you get here. You saw that office earlier?”

“The glass one?”

“Yes. Head right there. At the back of the office there’s a hatch on the floor. If that thing is after you open it and climb down. Wake Jack up and hope he doesn’t shoot you.”

“That’s comforting. What good will he do?”

“He’s immortal.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ll explain later. We have to get this done and get out before Ianto gets back.”

“That’s your fiend.”

“Workmate.”

“Workma-”

“Tea boy.”

“Oh fuck off.” She laughed quietly, trying not to think about what she was about to do.

With the bottle securely held in her hand she followed Owen down corridor after corridor , trying to map the way out in her head. Opening a final security door Elise saw the woman she was about to kill. There was no other way she could think about it. It was a mercy killing but she’d never even hit anyone let alone done them any harm. The figure seemed to be partially made of metal and was wired up to a cold metal bed. Wires snaked across the floor threatening to trip her up.

“Over here.” Owen pointed to a small hatch in the side of the bed.

Elise knelt down and pressed it, sitting back as it opened to show a churning deep red liquid. It didn’t take a PHD to realise what it was. The bottle felt like a lead weight in the woman's shaking hand as she removed the cap, a strong chemical smell of cleaning fluid rising into the air. She bit her lip and quickly emptied it into the port. She closed it and tried to stand but ended up staggering back into the wall, crumpling into a heap, hands clasped over her mouth.

Dr Harper watched the still figure. He still clearly remembered dealing with her the first time and the aftermath. He wished he could have found another way. Maybe saved her but she was beyond help. He’d tried multiple times but it was impossible, you can’t bring back the dead. The body in front of him began to spasm and foam at the mouth before ceasing to move for the final time. On his way out, Elise staying close and refusing to speak, he pulled out the bundle of plugs. By the time Ianto returned Lisa’s body would be cold and they would be gone.

#torchwood #ianto jones #owen harper #jack harkness #toshiko sato #gwen cooper #oc #elise carter

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aurora-boring-alis · 8 years ago

Text

wip lmao

Got tagged by @dxrkblaze to share some wip writing. Tbh I haven’t been doing much lately so ive only got scraps n shreds that have been chilling on my ipad for the last bit

I also usually save proper writing for my side blog but eh i can bend the rules once or twice

Oh ye its oc shit btw sorry

Its roughly 2 AM and I am awake, entangled in sweat soaked fleece in the backseat of my car. My gaze, clouded and blurry from interrupted sleep and absence of my glasses. The seats are lumpy and my back aches. It feels like I left the heat on, despite my car having been off for the last day or so.

I ran here earlier in the night and crashed in the back seat, hoping to catch some alone time and sleep. I haven’t slept well, much to my dismay; my mind was too awake, revving its engine, ready to go and drive me into a ditch. I retrace my thoughts, recount the steps of how I had got here, lying in the backseat of my beat up Tercel, trying to sleep, trying to outrun this. I suppose I could try to sober up from sleep and trek back to the city. But something about the thought of driving alone on a highway at night terrifies me. Perhaps it’s the thought of being completely alone. Maybe it’s the thought of crashing and not having anyone find me.

I sit up, reaching for my glasses, which are in the cup holder. I slide them onto the bridge of my nose, my gaze tracing up the plastic interior and gazing out the window. I’m parked on the shoulder of a gravel road that can barely fit two cars. To the left is the forest and a few cottages, slowly steeping upwards on a slight hill. To the right is the lake, it’s glassy waters glimmering, the moon shining brightly onto it. Cottages pepper the cleared path before the road and back onto the forest. There’s a few other parked cars along the road, but they’re like ghosts, emptied of their belongings and people. Near the cars are little tin boats that the cottagers use to get across the lake and onto the small islands in the middle. Light from them snakes across the lake, showing where they live. Hours ago, I was like them, with Patrick, in happy company, enjoying the sun, fresh air and lake.

But like always, I had to go and doubt myself. Oh yes, I just had to go and question everything I’ve ever felt about me, about Patrick, about our friendship, about our love. “Stupid Lindey…” I chastise myself. I pull my knees up to my chest and hold myself, drawing a thin gasp of air. I shut my eyes, trying my hardest to block him out of my thoughts. But the more I do, the more the spurs and spats of memory come crawling back to me.

I hear my phone vibrate, and I tense. I look down, the phone screen lit up, burning my eyes. It’s nearly silent, save for the buzz. It ceases a second later. I look down, the words Pat, missed call (4) appearing on the lock screen. A frown creeps across my lips as I unlock my phone and begin to play back his messages.

“Lin, it’s me. Why did you just run off? Did I do something wrong? Please tell me.” His voice is gruff and tired. A shiver goes down my back. “We’re friends right? I don’t want to loose you. And you mean a lot to me.“

The voicemail system flips forwards to the next message. ”Lin. It’s me again. I don’t know where you get off just running away like that. Why won’t you tell me what I did wrong?“

The next. ”You know what, I’ve had it. Call me back or don’t. I don’t care anymore Lindey. You can go-“ I hit the hang up button before I can hear anymore. He’s right though. I have jostled him around. I’ve played with his heart, and led him on. I toss the phone onto the floor of the car and lay back onto the plastic interior.

I mean, I haven’t always felt this way. I love Patrick and I can see myself going into something deeper with him, but, now when I look at him, there’s something missing, not connecting even. He’s whole and complete, and me, I feel like the wires in my brain are jumbled into a large knot, the ends loose and thrown across the edges of my mind.

I’ve been somewhat of a checkerboard in my past – not really caring whether I wake up beside a girl or a guy. When we started, Patrick told me that he was bi, it didn’t bother me. However, he looked expectantly towards me, and I said I was straighter than an arrow with sarcasm lurking behind my words. This memory sends me back into questioning. I never thought much about it – I liked girls and guys and that was that. I never saw anything more than a possible friendship with them. But my parents always said that I would make a great mother, and that kids love me, yet I can’t think of myself like that. Not now, at least. And that’s fine, I suppose.

My phone vibrates again. I look down at it and sigh out of my nose. I pick up the phone and hit answer. ”Lindey?“

I shut my eyes. “Pat.”

We sit in silence for a moment. I hear him breathe and cuss. Words spew from his mouth. Patrick’s hit his word vomit, and things just keep coming and coming from his mouth. He doesn’t stop. It’s a jumble of why would you’s, I don’t understand Lins, and we should just go back to being friends.

“I can feel it. You’re uncomfortable.” He says quietly. His voice is like a whisper in the air. I shut my eyes, pulling the sleeves of my sweater to meet my palms. “You were uncomfortable and still you pushed yourself to do it and rather than facing me and telling me what was wrong, you just… you ran off.”

I stay silent, rolling onto my side and letting the frames of my glasses cut into my face. I attempt to drown him out, but my thoughts are no better. In fact, they’re worse, dragging back old memories and slurs and questions from classmates, friends and family. It’s normal to want sex, right?

Everyone wants it, at least at one point. But then, if you have too much, you’re labelled as a slut, and if you have too little, you’re a prude. If you let anyone touch you like that you’re suddenly easy; and if you let no one, you suddenly have rumours that you have a chastity belt on. If you lust after people, you’re a skank. If you don’t want anyone, you’re boring. And yet, there’s this sinking, awful feeling in my stomach, settling there now. The same one that came over me when Mom told me that she can’t wait for me to have children or when Patrick said any guy would be lucky to have me.

“I don’t understand you Lindey.” He whispers into the phone. His voice is fuzzy and sounds as if he’s fading away, being pulled far from my reach.

“I don’t understand me either,” I say at last.

He stays quiet for another moment, this time much longer. “Why did you ask me out then?” His voice gets a little bit louder.

“I don’t know why, Pat.” I say, raising mine in response.

“Lindey,”

I don’t say a word.

“Do you think we should take a break? From each other, from this?” He asks. “Are we getting too heavy? I know we’ve been together for a while and said that nothing serious would come from this but-”

“I don’t know Patrick.” I say again. And suddenly, I’m the one with the word vomit, spewing out my life’s story. My world. My views. How I’ve felt forever; before adulthood, before adolescence. Before Patrick.

I tell him how I never cared about the valentines I got in grade school, and how I stayed home for all the dances. I tell him of staying awake to watch television and finish a book instead of texting anyone. How when a friend said a boy looked hot, I would look and see nothing. About going to parties in high school and how I got stuck in the closet with another girl who kissed me for the first time. The times when my friends would The time where I went to prom by myself and ended up leaving with someone. About the indifference to losing my virginity and being called a slut for it. How I when on a sex spree to try and see if I could feel something, anything like what my friends constantly spoke of. And then, then is when I tell him, in my quietest voice possible about how in first year college, I slept with my roommate twice and then moved on to the boy down the hall of my residence. And how that boy eventually asked me out and how I ended up here with him; halfway been two cities, sleeping in the back of my car.

He doesn’t say a word. I hear the porch door creak loudly and his footsteps against the floorboards. At last, he speaks. “Lindey.” He says. “Do you think you may be ace?”

I blink several times, staring at the dashboard of my car. I draw a breath and shake my head. Patrick knows me so well, too well, perhaps. Reading my thoughts and in tune with my actions even if I’m not around him.

“What is that?” I ask.

“It’s asexuality. It’s where you don’t like anyone, in a sexual way.” He says.“It’s nothing wrong, it’s just how some people feel about romance and love.”

“But it doesn’t make sense. I love you.” I say, my voice growing slightly frantic. “If I’m that, how could I love you? That doesn’t wor-”

“I mean, it totally works. And it’s subjective to everyone.” He says quickly, grasping at works to make me feel better. “Like Jas. You remember Jasper Alucard, right? The guy who I was talking to back at the post office in town?”

I nod, thinking he can see me. “Yeah, I think I remember him.” I say unconvincingly. I do remember glancing back and seeing Patrick talking to some guy outside the post office when we were there earlier. I only remember long, raven hair and nothing more. I only saw his back.

“Well, he’s ace too, and he’s got a partner right now. It just depends on who you are. Like you can want to be in a relationship and still be ace!” He says, his voice soft but upbeat. “And maybe you’re that. Maybe you’re ace.”

I try to get his metaphor, but it’s lost on me. I don’t know Jas, and I didn’t see him. He’s nothing more to me than a half-assed effort on Patrick’s part to make me seem normal. But instead of his intention, I feel more alienated than ever. “So what? I’m a robot? I’m broken?” I ask, my voice cracks.

“Lindey,”

“Because right now it’s feeling like it, Pat. I… I feel broken.” I cry into my phone. I hiccup tears and shake as Patrick struggles to comfort me over the line.

“Lindey. Lindey!” He yells. I swallow my tears and sniffle as he speaks. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare.” His voice is stern now. I hear him pace across the porch, the creaking of the boards under his feet. “You’re not broken for not wanting sex. You’re not a prude or some robot. You’re you. And you’re the girl I love.”

I fall silent again, my hands balling into fists as . “Lindey.” He says. “I love you. No matter who or what you are.”

I stay silent. My eyes well up. I know what’s coming. His voice has gone down in tone, becoming lower. He’s quiet. I can hear the waves lapping against the shore over the line. I hold my head in one hand, shutting my eyes tight. ”We should stop and figure things out. I think it’d be best if we-“

"We need to take a break.” I let a hiccup sneak into the conversation and then cover my mouth, sucking back a breath between my fingers. I part them slightly, allowing the words to creep through.. “I need a break. I need to figure myself out. That’s what you were going to say, and I agree.”

“You do? You’re not just saying that?” His voice grows quieter for a moment.

“Pat, I’m not. I’m certain.” I lie in a louder voice, attempting to hide that I’m crying. I swipe at my eyes. I attempt to hold myself together, keep myself from sobbing into the phone, begging for him or anyone to make myself make sense once again. I hate to lie to myself, to Patrick, but I can’t tell him that I want to keep going after I think – know – that I’m ace. I feel like I’m living a lie, telling myself that I’m okay going to bed with him even though I don’t see that in him. “It’d be best for us, right? Get our lives together before going forwards?”

“You’re right.” He says. His voice is eerily calm, barely above a whisper. I hear a loon call on the other end, and the real thing in my other ear. I fill the silence: “I’ll get my stuff out of the apartment.”

“Isn’t that a little extreme?” Patrick asks with concern.

“I mean, it’s apart of a break, right? I cut myself off from you, you cut yourself from me?” I say. Being ace and in a relationship feels so alien, so abnormal, unjust. I need to break away from him, I need to be alone.

“Right.” He says. “But where will you stay?”

“I’ll stay here until school comes back . Then I’ll go back to the city.” I say. “I’m sure I can find somewhere to stay.”

“As long as you’ll be all right.” He says. I hide a sniffle and another sob under the guise of a cough. “Lindey… I love you.” He says.

I stay quiet. “And if we get our shit together, maybe we’ll try again?” He says. “At the end of the summer?”

I nod into the phone. “Yep. Okay.” I say. His voice becomes distant. The words slip out of my mouth “I love you too, Pat.”

A moment passes and I feel dread pinch my nerves. Patrick takes a breath and then he breathes the words, “take care of yourself” and hangs up on me.

#chewie talks #ocs #writing #lindey #lmao have some of my weeb daughter's backstory #this is like just when shes going through grad school lmao #will i ever finish this??? Probably not #patrick #feel free to ignore #id appreciate if yall dont reblog this??? idk #likes r appreciated by reblog s make me nervous idjk

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