#either way. she's v 'can you hear the deafening silence. can you feel how much i Do Not Care. i didn't even remember what day today was' lo

[noxianwilled]

katarina legit would forget mother's day is a thing until someone says something about it and she has a moment of 'oh that exists i guess' and promptly moves on without a second thought. purposefully. she refuses to think about it so what it's just another day giving birth doesn't make anyone special you hear that mom

[channiebbang]

bet

synopsis: sometimes love is never meant to be. no matter how much you want it. y/n learns this the hard way when seungmin confesses he never loved her.

characters: Seungmin, Han, Main Character

pairing:  douchbag!Seungmin x girlfriend!maincharacter

genre: angst

word count: 2.8k

warnings: will hurt your heart and you will want to whack seungmin at some point lol

author’s note: uuuuu i’m really proud of this one. i remember i wrote this out of anger lmaoo i was so over seungmin always being the goody two shoes and always being this innocent dumb boy that i was like ‘fuck it imma write about him being an asshole’ and so i did lol i hope this is as fun to read as it was for me to write, enjoy! 💛

The cold air blew the loose hair around her face across her cheeks, the rest wrapped safely in a loose ponytail.

The spring wind felt relaxing, serene and calm, too calm. Too calm for the situation she was in, the silence around her deafening.

It was too quiet, the ringing that was picking up in her ears proof of that. She didn't know if she was even breathing.

Her glistening eyes were fixed on the boy in front of her, the boy she thought she knew all to well. But did she? Because in a matter of seconds he was a stranger.

She didn't know if she heard him right, she didn't know if he even said anything at all. She didn't know anything anymore. But the scoff he let out, breaking the overbearing silence, was answer enough. The answer was yes, she heard him right and yes, he had said something.

Although she wished she didn't and he hadn't.

She knew she should've felt cold in her light, loose, V neck crop t-shirt and high waisted trousers, but weirdly enough the wind kept her cooled off, as if the elements wanted to console her. Comfort her breaking heart, calm her down.

She breathed in slowly through her nose, lips parted, regaining control over he swirling emotions. She wasn't going to cry.

And even if she was hurt, in pain and struggling to breathe in and out properly she tried to comfort herself. She told herself she knew this was coming, she knew this was going to happen, she knew something was off.

She knew Kim Seungmin was just playing with her.

She focused on him again. She cursed at whoever was in charge up there for making him so good-looking, so easy going, so likable, so lovable and so comfortable to be around.

She cursed at herself for knowing what was happening and still losing herself in him. Drowning in the siren that was Kim Seungmin.

"So? Are you just going to stand there?" He taunted snapping her out of her thoughts.

She blinked a couple of times, eyes shifting around herself. They were seemingly stood alone, but she knew better, for she knew whenever she was with him they were never alone. After all, you can't play with someone without proof, right?

The only person she could be mad at was herself. So she smiled, her lips stretched ever so gently, her hands coming in front of her chest to hold onto the strap of her bag, resting against her hip.

Seungmin's eyes looked at her confusedly, she was smiling. Not even 5 minutes ago he had told her she meant nothing to him, that the past eight months meant nothing to him but a measly deal with his friends.

And she was smiling. Why?

"What do you want me to say, Seung?" She looked at him again, her eyes back to how they usually are. Bright, smiling, not glistening. Her smile never faltering.

The brunette, stood a few meters away from her, frowned. This was not the reaction he was looking for nor the one he expected.

He was annoyed, she had to stop acting so nice all the time. She needed to stop acting like a goody two shoes constantly. It was driving him insane, why can't she just get mad and scream?

He had broken her heart, for fuck's sake, give some reaction.

Seungmin looked around himself exasperated, not looking for anything in particular. He frustratingly ran his fingers through his hair, a harsh scoff leaving his lips. Unbelievable.

"Can you drop the act?" He spoke harshly, a strain to his voice. He didn't know why he was getting so worked up. He could've left, really. He had to just break the news to her and he could've left. But he didn't. His meaner side wanted to see her reaction, hoped she had one.

He hoped to see her riled up, angry, even crying. Maybe throwing a fit about how rude and mean and evil he was. He wanted to hear what the previous air headed bitch had yapped at him when he dumped her ass. How she gave her all to him, how he broke her heart, how she would take her revenge on him.

But he was frustrated, so fucking much. Because the girl in front of him did none of that, and to be completely honest, Seungmin felt robbed of his entertainment. So he huffed out a breath again, eyes trained on the girl as she stared at him. Smiling. And it pissed him off so much.

"I don't know what you expect me to do, Seung. There's nothing much I can do about all of this. What we had was fake, I get it, there's nothing I can do to change it. No matter what my reaction is, things won't change," she spoke softly, and Seungmin felt like she was mocking him.

Her smile was mocking him, her understanding eyes were mocking him, her soft voice was mocking him. It seemed like he had just told her about his day and not that he had been faking it all along. He groaned frustrated.

"Oh my God! Fucking do something, I don't know! Why are you just standing there?" He raised his voice a little, he watched as she took a small step back. That was the only movement from her. If he had not paid attention to that he wouldn't have even noticed any change in her.

"You want me to scream at you? Be angry? Cry? Fight?" She spoke, listing all the possibilities, and Seungmin found himself nodding, another groan leaving his lips.

"Yes! Do that, all of that," he desperately exclaimed, before continuing, "but don't just fucking stand there and act all nice and whatnot, stop smiling. The fuck are you smiling about? I just told you I was faking this relationship, I just told you it's over," he angrily spoke, his frustration getting the best of him.

Y/n calmly observed the guy, breathing heavily. She hated to admit that his revelation didn't change her feelings for him. Sure, she wasn't going to beg for his attention and his affection but she wasn't going to lie and say she didn't still love him. After all, Kim Seungmin was the perfect boyfriend throughout the whole ordeal.

His true colors were shown only now. And she understood how little she knew someone she claimed to love. She believed him when he said it was all fake. She didn't question anything. She didn't question all the sweet gestures he had shown, she didn't ask herself if those were fake too. They most certainly were, and she knew it.

She was just too stupid to see it.

"I'm not going to do any of that, Seungmin. Unlike yours, my feelings were real, I'm not going to question your feelings behind how caring you seemed to me, nor am I going to question the motive for what you did and I'm not going to ask what you gained from this either," y/n muttered, her smile gone. And Seungmin thought he was going to get the reaction he wanted, even if just a little bit. But he frowned deeply as he listened to her words.

"Why?" He asked, genuinely curious. Why didn't she want to know? Why was she so calm? Why. Is. She. Not. Reacting? He watched as she blinked at the ground a couple of times.

"I wasn't faking it. I know your feelings weren't real but mine were. I know the person you acted to be was not you, I know nothing was real. But I can't deny my feelings, so I would like to remember you as that person, I'll get over you better if I just pretend that things just didn't work out between us," she nodded as she concluded her words, her eyes looking up at him, the smile back on her lips.

Seungmin stared at her, lips parted, confused. He didn't know what she meant, at all. She wanted to pretend he didn't play with her feelings? Delusional.

"You are delusional," he spat out, lips formed into a snarl. The girl nodded, clicking her tongue.

"Perhaps, I am. That's okay with me," she smiled at him again. She could breathe fine again, the chilly breeze helping her.

He didn't know what he had to do to get a reaction out of her. So he just rambled nonsense.

"Every word I said was a lie, everything I did was planned out, nothing I did was genuine. It was all a game, everything was fake. Every kiss was fake, I never wanted to kiss you. Holding your hand was awful, I lied when I said I loved your hugs. I lied when I said I couldn't sleep without you in my arms. I hated it when you wore my clothes, I acted the whole time. I never wanted you around myself, all of it, every single instance was a lie, fake, awful," he spluttered out, one after another. He didn't know if he meant all of it, at this point he didn't even know what he was saying, he just wanted a reaction. He wanted her to stop being so nice and understanding.

When he looked back at the girl he knew he struck a chord because her smile was gone and a solemn expression graced her features.

He wouldn't say she looked like she was about to cry, no. Her eyes weren't glistening like they did when they watched sad movies. Her lips weren't downturned like they did when they'd have to leave the local pet cafè.

Her brows were pulled in just the slightest, her lips pursed in a small pout and her hands gripped the strap tightly. Disappointed. She was disappointed.

"I see," she nodded, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. Then her smile was back. Seungmin just stared at her.

"Well, I hope you accomplished whatever you were trying to do. I'll leave first," she spoke firmly, although she didn't feel one bit strong. In fact, she knew she was going to cry at some point, it was just a matter of when.

Seungmin watched her with narrowed eyes as she quickly closed the distance between them. His eyes widening in panic when her arms wrapped around his waist and her cheek rested against his shoulder as she pushed up on her feet a bit.

He was frozen in place, his arms on his sides as she hugged him tightly. He looked down at the girl against his chest, her head turned away from him. He couldn't understand.

And as much as he didn't want to believe it, Seungmin knew. He knew he wouldn't understand and he would remain in that state of confusion for a long time. He knew this would bother him every time it came to mind in the future. He knew that the unsettling feeling that grew throughout the whole time would haunt him every night.

When nobody kept him company but himself in his room, lying awake at night. Staring at the ceiling, he knew he would think back at this moment. And he will be confused. But he will not have any answer to why.

Why was she smiling? Why was she not crying? Screaming? Hitting him? Cursing him out? Why was she not asking for answers? Not believing this was happening? Why was she acting so understanding? Was she acting?

He will not know, and it will eat him alive. But for now, he just stared frozen at the girl that had her arms wrapped around him.

She loosened her arms and pulled her head back, looking up at him. A sad smile on her lips as she tried to take his beautiful features in, she looked down at her shoes, arms still loosely hanging around him, not holding as tightly anymore.

They were close. Too close. Close to the point where her forehead brushed against his chin. And Seungmin would've pulled away or pushed her away harshly if it were any other person but not y/n, for he was too busy being taken off guard tonight.

Y/n slowly brought her hands up to her neck, fingers barely touching the thin necklace resting against her collarbones. Seungmin watched her, not moving, as they stood so close. He didn't know why he wasn't pulling away, why he just stood there like a mannequin.

He watched as her fingers fumbled on the back of her neck, working the clasp of the necklace he had gifted her. The necklace that meant so much to him. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know why he had given it to her, but it had felt right when he did.

A light click was heard before she slowly brought the thin chain in front of her and gently took a hold of one of his hands. She turned it palm up and dropped the necklace.

She looked up, their eyes locking, and Seungmin flinched slightly from the abrupt strong gaze. But he stood still as her hands rested on his shoulders and she pushed on her tippy toes, her soft lips coming in contact with his jaw.

"Be happy, okay? Bye, Seungmo," she whispered against the skin, his nickname rolling off of her lips as she pulled away.

His eyes trained on her retreating figure, as she walked away.

She stopped briefly in front of a bench, where a lone figure sat, a newspaper in front of their face.

"You're wearing the hat I gave you, Jisung," she murmured smiling fondly at the boy with the puffed out cheeks as he stared at her from behind the newspaper, eyes wide and big. Y/n pinched his cheek flashing him a smile and before he could say anything, she was already walking down the street again.

Seungmin stared after her. He had broken up with her, told her about his ill intentions. Then why did it feel like he broke up a real relationship?

Jisung looked at his bestfriend, then back at y/n's retreating back, then again at his friend. He knew Seungmin like the back of his hand. And what he saw on his bestfriend's face wasn't the excitement and smirk he'd usually have after breaking the nth heart. Something different was in his eyes. His face morphed in what he could decipher only as confusion. But what has he confused of? Wasn't this the norm for the guy standing in the middle of the street?

"Yah, Kim Seungmin," Jisung called for his friend's attention standing up from the bench he was sitting on. He watched gaping as Seungmin's expression changed in less than a second. His confused stare gone as he rolled his eyes and chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

"Bro, you okay?" Jisung asked hesitantly, Seungmin shot him a confused look before smiling and stretching his arms over his head. A groan leaving his lips as he relieved his aching muscles. Damn this was exhausting.

"Peachy," he said, voice back to his cheery tone. He turned around walking to his car, his friend quickly following behind him.

"Sure?" Jisung asked after the both settled in the car, Seungmin turning on the ignition and pulling out of the parking spot. He chuckled humorously.

"Why wouldn't I be, rat?" He flashed a teasing smile at his bestfriend and that seemed enough to put Jisung's worries at rest. Not before a thought flashed in his mind though. Because for once it seemed like you were caught in the middle.

Y/n on the other hand was seconds away from crumbling, and she hoped that when she did she would be out of Seungmin's eyesight. She turned the corner at the end of the street and that's when she let herself fall to pieces.

She staggered a few steps before pressing her back against the cemented wall, the tears finally rolling down her cheeks as the back of her hand pushed against her lips, in an attempt to not let out any sounds.

She swallowed harshly, throat tightening, as she tried to stop herself from making any noise and not hiccupping.

She felt physical pain she didn't know was possible feeling from a heartbreak. Her chest hurt, the base of her neck feeling like someone had their hands wrapper around her throat and was slowly squeezing.

The muted out sobs that wrecked her body too painful to bear, but even then she forced herself to stand up straight and wipe her tears away.

What was gone, was gone. There was no point in feeling miserable, she could only pretend that the Seungmin she just faced wasn't real. She could pretend that her Seungmin was the ever so caring person she fell in love it.

And she knew she was delusional and she was stupid for thinking that, but if that was the only way she could feel better about herself, then so be it.

She would be delusional.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.24}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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"Too many people have been insinuating things like that recently. You know… about you and me. Us."

"Ah." Snape's voice dropped down an octave, and the deep frown on his falling features was suddenly accompanied by a tinge of rising bitterness in his tone, a shadow of sincere sadness in his eyes. Then it was all apathy again before the fleeting emotions could be grasped. "I can see why that thought would be repelling to you."

And for once, encouraged by the ghosts of emotions she had seen on his face, Robin let her heart speak instead of her mind. "Actually, it just makes me wish quite desperately that it was true."

Snape froze in his every movement in an instant, breaking the rhythm of their saunter for but a single second before moving on just like before, without as much as a word in question or comment. Robin's heart however was moving all the more, it pounded furiously against her ribcage as if trying to escape from the prison of her flesh. Oh bloody hell, what had she done?! There was no use in denying it now. He was brilliant; of course he knew exactly what she had meant by that statement. But why, WHY on earth wasn't he saying anything in return? The wildfire was burning her up with every second they walked along the shore side by side, and it was killing her softly with every one of those seconds they spent in silence. Oh no no no… she had absolutely ruined everything, she had-...

Her thoughts came to a sudden halt when his fingers brushed against the back of her hand, oh so gently while yet causing liquid electricity to surge up her arm, and when she moved her hand closer to his in return, he wrapped his fingers around hers entirely and intertwined them at long last. In the matter of only a second, Robin's every word and thought came to a sudden and deafening stillstand, and her ability to function was gone with a start. Without word, without thought, they just kept walking on in calm silence, hand in hand as tightly as comfort allowed. Hours or minutes or seconds passed, and the world was gone beyond them. Only when they were on their way back to the castle, thought and reason slowly became a possibility once more.

And with the ability of thought, a million questions tumbled into Robin's mind at once, a subtle but lingering rush of panic. But instead of getting lost in what she didn't know now, she found strength in the comfort of his lingering touch to focus on what she did know for once.

One. She had directly and undoubtedly admitted that she wanted them to be more than they were now. That she wanted them to be a them in the first place, together, in every sense of the word.

Two. He had thought that the idea of being with him would be repelling to her, and then he had been sincerely surprised to hear that the very opposite was the case. The thought that she might be opposed to the idea of them together had brought a bitter sadness to his face, while now however he looked rather torn between excitement, nervousness, and the wish to cover up for either.

Three. He had taken her hand, in a way that neither of them had ever done before. Without a reason to keep holding on other than the simple pleasure of it, fingers woven together instead of a mere handshake kind of thing. Intimate, almost. Emotionally connotated without a doubt.

And lastly, four. She had basically just made the biggest emotional declaration in the history of their relationship, and he was still here. Entering the courtyard by her side, with no present intention of going anywhere else. He wasn't running from whatever was happening. Not from her, not again.

So, what did any and all of this mean? Did he know what it meant, what was happening? She might not be able to answer the questions that spooked around her head, but one thing she could do for sure. Opening her eyes at long last. And what she saw now, had to see with her eyes wide open, was the last piece falling into place for the wildfire to consume her entirely. And she saw that she wasn't the only one burning.

They obviously just had taken a turn in their relationship, and while they still stood at the beginning of what that meant, they were on this path together now. Burning, together. Upon that realization, Robin thought her heart stopped beating once and for all, while adrenaline like sweet poison threatened to make her entire body quiver. This was a beginning, not and end. She couldn't remember ever feeling something quite as intense as this, and it was only just beginning indeed. The return of her heartbeat brought the promise of more.

They were back in the arcades when Robin took notice of the world beyond her mind again, stopping in front of the very arch they had shared in the year prior. Without a second of hesitation they both took their established places next to each other, sitting comfortably squeezed together, but more than gladly so on her end at least. Still, the comfortable silence that surrounded them lingered on for another moment, a moment where Robin simply let the overwhelming excitement consume her while yet trying to keep the nervousness at bay.

She hadn't terribly misunderstood all of this now, had she? Snape wasn't delusional enough to misunderstand her words, and he wasn't cruel enough to play with her emotions. He wouldn't do that. Not with her. She took a deep breath, and inevitably noticed that it trembled as much as her entire body wanted to. Good gods, were emotions always this complicated? No, this wasn't complicated at all, she was certain that she had understood matters correctly. And foremost she was certain that she understood Snape. He wouldn't still be here if he didn't feel even remotely the same as her. Not like this.

"Did you actually mean what you said?" His quiet question suddenly broke the silence, and set loose another explosion of pure energy in Robin's heart with its smooth depth alone. "About wishing that you and I…" He didn't speak on despite the calmness of the statement, and rather looked ahead into the night instead of turning to look at Robin. But at the same time, he kept holding onto her hand more tightly than ever. As if he was doubting reality as much as she had been, reluctant to believe that suddenly this was real, that they were really here at long last.

"Obviously." Robin replied with a warm smile, and a certainty came with her words that washed away even more of her fears. "You know me far better than to doubt that."

"I do indeed." He said quietly, while his gaze however stayed forcefully fixed on the distant hills. "But I never allowed myself to even imagine that you would want this with someone like me. Would want more… with me."

His words snapped something in Robin's mind, bringing forth the irresistible urge to act, to prove to him right in this instant just how much she wanted this indeed. For once in an eternity, she didn't suppress the impulsiveness of her roaring emotions, but simply surrendered to them with open arms. In the matter of a second she was sitting up on her knees, her face evenly leveled with his own, which only left them so close together that he couldn't avoid her anymore. He, too, finally needed to open his eyes to the truth in front of him. He needed to look, and she would make him see.

"I want everything with you, Severus. Everything about you." Her simple words of unadorned yet utmost truth, his name on her lips were what finally made him succumb to her will, and he looked at her, looked at her in that way that made the space between them shrink and the air catch in her throat. And still, Robin's fingers moved to brush the wisps of black that had caught in his lashes back to where they belonged, and she smiled when he, too, for once, unlearned to breathe. "When I look at you, I see my own everything."

Her hand lingered where it was, her fingertips tracing his delicate skin on their own account, but her eyes were held captive by his own that seemed so impossibly dark from up close, from so terribly close… His breath fanned gently against her skin, hot and unsteady quite like her own, and Robin's eyes fluttered shut when she finally couldn't bear the tension anymore that drew them together like a moth to the flame. Her own heartbeat in her ears was drowning out any and every sound, every thought that wasn't him, wasn't now, and she counted them on and on, in one, two, three… then she leaned in through the minimal space remaining and gently pressed her lips to his.

She felt him freezing under her touch almost instantly, not moving, not breathing, but neither pulling back. So she stayed as she was, in a crazy ambivalence of violent adrenaline forcing her spirits to heights beyond her body, and an uproaring voice in her head that screamed 'what the hell am I doing'. He wasn't kissing her back, he wasn't breathing, he wasn't doing anything to be exact. And as sweet as the adrenaline's poisoning of her senses was, it was the voice in her head that finally made her pull back, made her open her eyes to find his still closed. Her breathing hitched, and a shudder ran down her back. Oh god oh god oh god… He opened his eyes at the sound, still so close, still looking at her with this unfathomable depth. Oh bloody hell… she didn't know what she was doing, and he probably could tell. But when his warm hand settled on the curve of her waist, fingers digging into her hip as he pulled her closer, her breath hitched once more, every heartbeat an allconsuming thunder, and a broken second later her lips were back on his without the previous reluctance. Without internal monologues, and this time, he did everything but freeze in return.

Robin's body knew perfectly well what to do now where her mind for once did not, and when their lips started moving to only the laws of sheer overwhelming ecstasy, every last thought of concern shattered in redundancy anyway. This was absolutely intoxicating; like drowning in an ocean of all there was to life.

They did let go of each other's hand now, anything to get closer, to be closer, and when his arm wrapped around her waist and hers around his shoulders, Robin was sure to feel every single cell in her body coming alive, to feel absolutely everything at once. His sweet lips, so soft, moving in such growing fire with her own, hot breath on her skin, racing hearts and firm grasps turned desperate clawing. A distant echo of the fruit punch served at the ball, and something far more heady in taste. Silent gasps and moans that ran as a liquid heat right to her core, stoked by the impossible warmth of his body pressed flush against her own. Electric tingles at the bottom of her spine. After years of dreaming about this moment, Robin found that nothing could compare to reality for once. It truly was a pastime for eternity.

Perhaps that is why it felt like no time had passed at all when the low chime of the clock that towered high above the courtyard broke them apart, when it rang not twelve, but half past. The sound registered somewhere in the back of Robin's mind at first, barely even reaching her consciousness, but it kept nagging at her to put sense to it, and after a few slow seconds there was a small voice rising in her mind again at last. She was supposed to meet her friends in the entrance hall at half past, to… oh dear, it wasn't just a new year by now, it was a new decade as well! They had missed the turn of years because… oh bloody hell, he was actually kissing her back! And with no less passion than she brought in herself! There was no room for any possible misunderstanding left now… He did feel exactly the same as her.

Robin broke the kiss with a small gasp, pulling back only far enough to rest her forehead against his while her mind slowly cleared of the blissful haze. Her chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath, they both were, but the more the reality of the situation sunk in, the more she couldn't help grinning like a fool. She really was just that, a fool so hopelessly in love that she didn't even bother justifying it to herself. The walls that had hidden her deepest emotions from him were shattered, vanished, gone… she didn't need to hide anymore, and she could have cried in joy over that fact alone. But she didn't. She smiled, brighter than the moon and stars, because it was the only thing she found herself capable of.

"Happy new year…" She finally got out quite breathlessly, laughing almost at the same time at her ridiculous remark, and his hold on her tightened in return. If possible at all, it made her smile even brighter.

"'Happy' is a bit of an understatement, wouldn't you say?" He asked in return, more hoarsely than should be allowed, but undoubtedly with the sound of a smile that finally made Robin lean back enough to look at him. And here he was, smiling indeed, looking a little helpless in the unusual extent of the extraordinary gesture and showing it more in his eyes than the rest of his face, but it was by far enough to make her heart soar and bring forth the urge to continue right where the clock's chime had interrupted. But they were still in a public place out here, prone to be seen now that the ball was over and the guests were leaving, and she was also later by the second to meet her friends. As tempting as it was, this wasn't the time or place to let herself be drawn into their own world of raw emotion again.

"Happy certainly is a place for us to start." She said instead, with a smile that didn't even try to hide any of the emotions running through her in a whirlwind. "That is if you want-..."

"Yes."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" She protested in a laugh, and the bright spark that flamed up somewhere deep in the blackness of his eyes in return made it even more difficult to not just forsake the outside world again. It would be such a gain… but a short-lived one, if they got kicked out of Hogwarts in return.

"Does it matter when you will let me have everything with you anyway?" He replied easily, in that tone that made the statement sound as if it was the most obvious truth the world had to offer, and yet in a way that turned Robin's insides into a mess of liquid heat and tingles. "And I want everything about you indeed. In every way possible."

"I'm all yours for the taking. And keeping." She smiled with a small shrug, while her heart was dancing in joy and her head screamed in excitement over the reality of this insanity. "But I need you to be mine in return, you know… Entirely, all of you."

"I can live with that." His easy tone was accompanied by a not-smirk now, but when Robin couldn't help grinning in return, it quickly grew into a real and honest smile that made her heart skip a beat. Not only because it was a true joy to behold, but because she knew that she was the reason for it. She was making him happy enough to smile, for heaven's sake! There weren't enough words in existence to say as much as that single smile did by itself.

Robin didn't exactly know how it happened, but her lips were back on his not even a second later, bringing forth a new crashing wave of overwhelming joy to roll over her and let her mind shatter at the cutting edge of reality once more. Her hand moved to his neck on its own account, gentle fingers entangling in the rivers of black while her whole body curved into his as far as their awkward positions allowed. The stinging pain in her knees, the cold of winter, the aching of her lungs that were desperate for air… it ceased to exist in the heat of the moment. As did time and space, until the creaking of the front gates startled both Robin and Snape out of it and effectively caused either to fall back into the columns behind them, a good distance apart. Mere seconds later, guests came walking out into the courtyard and into their view.

"Bloody hell, that was…" Robin breathed, but she didn't know how to end the sentence appropriately without doing the matter injustice.

"Entirely intoxicating?" Snape offered after a second of silence, while making a vain attempt to straighten out his robes and hair. It still looked messy, but luckily more like a wind-caused mess than a Robin-caused one.

"Yes. That. And more." She sighed, and finally started scrambling out of the arch and onto her aching legs that were wobbly for more than one reason now. Five past twelve thirty already. "Oh fuck… I'm late."

"For?" He raised an eyebrow at her while following the impulse and getting back onto his feet as well, even though a lot more gracefully.

"Meeting my friends in the entrance hall. Stupidly enough, I even was the one who suggested that we should wish each other a happy new year before they head back to the common rooms." She groaned under her breath, then went to straighten her dress as well even though it was a rather hopeless endeavour. "But I guess with the guests leaving one by one now, it wouldn't be a good idea for us to stay out here anyway. Something tells me that when Dumbledore said we are to keep our ties behind closed doors, he had rather envisioned ties of the recent kind anyway."

"He likely did; the old man is a meddlesome fool more than any other. But it would indeed be in both our best interest if we weren't caught in such a compromising situation." Snape replied, but still placed a warm hand on the small of her back as they started making their way through the arcades and towards the entrance hall. "For now, no one can know of what is between you and me."

"Obviously not. They never could in the past either." Robin scoffed, but only because it was a thing that had been settled and agreed on from the start. "I had and have no intention to discuss my private matters with anyone but you, and seeing as I have never done so before either, it really is nothing new to me."

"I was more concerned about myself, to be honest. Resisting you seems rather impossible for me at this point, now that I know just how utterly and divinely addictive you are."

His words brought another grin to Robin's entire face. She enjoyed being as strong a temptation for him as he was for her, that was for sure. Having this kind of power over him was nothing short of a thrill of heights previously unknown; it sent an eerie wave of raw desire through her entire being in an instant.

"Good thing we are usually perched in the darkness of the dungeons entirely by ourselves, huh?" She smirked up at him with a good dash of tease in her eyes, and she could tell immediately that her words were having much the same effect on him as his had had on her. Oh geez, even teasing was so much better now… so much more.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are truly insufferable?" He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and Robin just had to laugh. Yes, this was the very man she loved. Perhaps, there really wasn't all that much that had changed after all.

"I believe you've told me a few times, yeah…" She shrugged with a lingering smirk, as they finally stepped through the large doors and into the lively entrance hall that was still filled with way more people than Robin had expected. "Oh for heaven's sake… At least we can pretend that we weren't quite as late as we were now. Just delayed by the crowd."

"The dunderhead gang certainly hasn't caught my eye yet." His tone was way more neutral now, as was his face when Robin looked up at him, but then again, they were surrounded by a brigade of people now, and her own expression had also fallen back into calm neutrality. His hand however stayed on her back even as they pushed their way through the crowds in search of the people they were –or rather Robin was– supposed to meet.

"Did you just call my friends 'the dunderhead gang'?" She had to snort upon his words though, quiet as they were, and quirked an eyebrow up at him in unadulterated amusement.

"Problem with that?" He quipped quietly, with a completely straight face but the most teasingly indifferent tone imaginable; Robin's jaw dropped in an instant. Oh, so this is how things were going to be now, huh? Well, to be honest, they hadn't ever been much different in the first place, and she would rather chop her own legs off than change a thing about it. Not so different after all, then… only better.

"Robin!!!" Cas' excited squeal reached her ears even before she saw the blonde mane and brightly coloured dress in the crowd. Three seconds later, she was wrapped up in a bear hug by her younger friend. "There you are!"

"Hi Cas…" Robin chuckled, and absentmindedly picked at the threads of glittery fabric that hung around her now. "Happy new year."

"Yes! Right!" She grinned as she pulled back at last. "Happy new year to you too."

While Cas stepped back and made room for the next person to come and hug her, Robin looked around with a frown once she realized that the hand on her back was gone, the space by her side empty. Where had he gone? A little stab of hurt twisted her gut, but when she suddenly found herself surrounded by the usual giant group of overly excited students, the reason for that hurt changed in an instant. He had gone so she could be with her friends; the only painful thing about that was the fact that it was necessary in the first place. At this point in time she couldn't have both, her friends and Severus, and that was the true and only tragedy about it. Robin made a mental note to thank him for being so understanding of that when she sought him out later, perhaps in the form of teasing him about his distaste for social interactions with students. He'd understand that for sure.

For the next minutes however, she was hugged by more people than she would've liked, and some of them unfortunately touched that one spot on her back that was still aching quite a bit upon contact. The area Morgan had left in pain through his touch, and probably some pieces of magic as well; she hadn't even known he was capable of that, wordless spells... But once the hugging and the new year's wishes were over, the pain reducing again and the crowds clearing up with students retreating to the common rooms and guests leaving, she was smiling along with her friends nonetheless. The excitement over tonight's events wasn't so easily hidden behind any calm facades.

"Say, where did you leave your shadow?" Gideon finally dared to ask her, after looking like he'd swallowed his tongue for the minutes prior. "Isn't it a bit… I don't know… weird, to hang around with a professor all evening?"

"He's not my professor. We work together as equals, which technically makes us colleagues in that regard. I've told you that much before." Robin replied with an expression as calmly neutral as was humanly possible in her situation. "But to answer your question, I haven't the foggiest where he is. We took a walk down to the lake to get away from people after I started feeling a bit queasy in the crowds, but I haven't seen him since we arrived back here." That, she proudly thought to herself, was very much the truth. Not the entire truth, but what's new.

"Ah, so that is why your dress is in its current state… And why you're practically glowing from the inside… Because of your walk…" Jorien mused in pointed innocence, and with a tiny smirk that had Robin glaring at her in an instant. Simon raised an eyebrow at the two of them in silent question, but nobody else picked up on the subtle implications of that statement nor the unspoken warning that had followed upon it. Just like nobody else had picked up on whatever it was that Jorien had obviously seen in Robin's carefully constructed demeanor yet again. The girl really was getting way too good at reading people…

"Earth to Robin!" Cas waved her hand in front of Robin's face to regain her attention. "I actually decided to listen to your stupid advice about being classy and all that jazz… So instead of making out in some shitty hallway, we-..."

"I honestly don't want to know the specifics! Do what you want to, but leave me out of it. I can't approve of this endeavor, so I'd rather not know about it at all."

"Yes, no, exactly that is my point! I changed my mind about the whole thing. Because you're right, and it would be stupid and pathetic and childish." Cas insisted with an almost serious face, before the smile was back in a matter of seconds. "So Jorien and I are having a girls' sleepover in our room tonight instead. With Melissa and Lisa and Joan and Meghan."

That did bring a smile to Robin's face indeed, a very much pleased one even. "That's great, Cas. I'm proud of you for making that decision, and I'm actually quite sure that you won't regret it either. Sometimes waiting really does pay off."

"Told you she'd say that." Jorien remarked quietly, and Cas rolled her eyes in return, so the former turned to Robin instead. "You know, you're welcome to join us if you want to… Even if I have a feeling that you'd rather do anything but."

"Staying up all night with six fifteen year olds? I think I'll spare myself that discomfort; I would only spoil the fun for you guys." Robin sighed, then let out a humoured huff as she crossed her arms over her chest. "But it's nice of you to alibi-invite me nonetheless. I won't get in the way of your plans tonight, don't worry."

"Thank you!" Cas squealed, again at a pitch that made the hairs in Robin's neck stand straight, even when the girl wrapped her into another hug. "You're honestly the best roommate ever. The best sister ever! Brilliant and kind and generous and thoughtful and beautiful and sexy and-..."

"Yeah yeah, just… don't set the place on fire, alright?" Robin replied a bit awkwardly upon being given such easy compliments that probably even were somewhat heartfelt, but still too shallow to affect her in any other way than causing her embarrassed discomfort.

"We won't wreak havoc, I promise." Jorien said in all sincerity, and that was probably the only and best reassurance Robin would get. "And nobody touches your stuff, just like always."

"Good." Robin sighed, then offered them a smile. "Perhaps we should say goodnight now nonetheless. It's ten to one, and I believe one o'clock is tonight's curfew. I wouldn't want any of you guys to be caught out of bed beyond that."

"Wait a second…" Cas frowned all of a sudden, while the wheels in her head were obviously turning. "Where will you be staying tonight, since we're obviously evicting you?"

"That, my friend, is for Robin to know and for us to eternally wonder about." Jorien replied with a perfect smile before Robin could, and wrapped an arm around her blonde friend's shoulder. "C'mon now, say goodnight to your Prince Charming so we can get going."

While the group said their goodnights in general then, with hugs and kisses and too many words, Robin couldn't help wondering about Jorien. The girl really was a riddle sometimes, but she obviously had understood the lesson learned during breakfast two weeks ago. Really, Robin couldn't blame her for seeing what she herself deemed obvious as well, could she? It was only good that she had understood that she was to keep such knowledge to herself from now on. Still, Robin couldn't help feeling proud of both girls tonight. The more they were growing up, the more she could really be friends with them. Perhaps, one day, they would be at a point where it didn't matter anymore that they weren't the same age. Where it didn't matter who Robin's heart belonged to for the ages yet to come.

______________________________

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[snesdudes]

FIST FIGHTING WITH FIRE

chapter III

Pairing: Mason x f!Detective (Alice Santos)

Warnings: Book 3 demo SPOILERS!!! Cursing, some angst, mentions of sex, a guy being a creep™, I guess. Sorry if there are any mistakes!

Word count: ~1.8k

Summary: A week after that scene on Haley’s Bakery, Mason deals with the aftermath of his words... Or has he been dealing with it since the very moment he said them?

Read on ao3

chapter I ⭐ chapter II ⭐ chapter IV ⭐ chapter V

                                         ☾  一一一一一一一一一   ☽ 

Outside the bar

"Can we just… not do this?" Alice spoke into the phone, her free hand running through her red hair and messing the waves she had carefully done that evening. A sigh from the other end of the line indicated her mother's reluctance to let it go.

"You seemed to be perfectly integrated with the Unit some days ago, and this week you made up a meeting with the Captain just to avoid coming to the warehouse."

Alice cringed, not her finest moment. "Look, I'm with them now, having a drink together. We're fine. Everything's fine."

"Does this have anything to do with what's been going on with Mason?"

Hearing his name made the detective snap. "Wait, is this you being a mother or being a boss?" She spat, venom on her every word. "Because you've barely gained the right to meddle in my life as either of those things."

The silence was deafening, and Alice's heartbeat kept getting faster and faster. "You weren't there when Bobby broke my heart, you don't have to be here now." Her voice cracked as she finished the sentence and she had to clear her throat.

"Is that what happened? Mason broke your heart?" Tears threatened to spill out of her green eyes at the genuine concern on Rebecca's voice.

"No, he didn't." She answered with a whisper, rebuilding her carefully placed walls.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. I have to go, they are waiting for me."

"Alice, wait, tell me -"

She finished the call and stared at the phone's screen for a few seconds, taking calming breaths and trying to swallow the tears. The Unit would pick up on any change in her mood so she better calm down fast.

"Detective Santos. That looked intense."

She turned around quickly, finding the bearded man they were discussing inside before her mother called. Alice cleared her throat and offered a wobbling smile. "Kinda. Mr Rogers, wasn't it?"

"Please, call me Owen." He said, a wolfish smile on his lips as he offered his hand to her. Alice couldn't help but think of all the times the smirks Mason threw her way had seemed wolfish to her, and how different the chill she felt going down her spine was to the one she was feeling now.

Still, she was the detective of this town, so she shook his hand as professionally as she could. He took advantage of the situation to pull her slightly towards him, making her stumble on her heels and gaining a frown from her.

"I couldn't exactly walk up to you inside, surrounded by those guys. Popular, aren't you?"

Alice pulled her hand away and took a step backwards, creating some distance. "Those are my friends. And I would carefully think about what you say next if I were you, because so far you're doing a terrible job at flirting with me."

Owen blinked, slightly taken aback by her brashness, but recovering quickly and assuming she was challenging him. He didn't know he had picked the worst moment to annoy the detective, who usually was rather friendly and generous with her smiles. But the night had been a whirlwind of emotions and she was feeling irritated, miserable and ready to either go home and curl into the bed or get back inside and get shit faced drunk. Definitely not in the mood to deal with this man.

"I'm just saying you've probably let some of them get a taste." His grin widened, eyes travelling down her body. "Thought maybe I could be next. I'm sure I could teach you a couple of things… or maybe you could show me what you can do."

She opened her mouth to reply when a low growl interrupted her, making Owen turn around and allowing Alice to see Mason standing there, fists clenched and eyes narrowed, lips curled in a snarl. He looked dangerous, even more so than he usually did, and Alice tried to look at him from a stranger's eyes. Everything in his body and expression was screaming 'predator'. It would be the kind of situation where your body asks you to run even if you aren't sure about why you should be running. You just know you should. But she didn't feel fear, his anger was not directed towards her. She felt a thrill going through her body at his presence, forgetting her bruised heart for a moment.

"What the fuck did you just say to her?" The words were still growled as he stepped forward, and Owen took a step backwards, nearly colliding with the detective, who moved aside and around him. Mason reached out a hand to her, not moving his stormy gaze from the bearded man. Not even thinking, she slipped her hand into his and he gently moved her closer until she was tucked against his side. The detective had expected Mason to push her behind him, not keeping her by his side. She felt both of their bodies relaxing slightly at the touch, as if being close to each other was the only thing they needed in the world.

Owen looked at them with slight fear in his eyes. He could swear he had seen a glimpse of inhumanly big fangs when the long-haired man snarled. Mason's hand rested on her waist and her manicured one grabbed his shirt, his dark hair falling down his face and getting mixed with her red locks, tickling her cheek. He looked at him as if he was about to rip him apart, and the look on the detective's face let him know she would very much allow it… maybe even help him.

"Look," he croaked, "I didn't know she was with you. No harm done, okay?"

But his words didn't have the desired reaction. Another growl, and his snarl widened. It was taking all his self control not to pounce on this guy, but he knew he shouldn't. "So it was okay to be a creep to her when you didn't know? But suddenly a bad idea now you know she's my girl?"

Mason didn't miss the way her heart leaped inside her chest at his words and a pang of satisfaction almost made him shudder. If he hadn't been so fucking angry at the man standing before them he would have probably gotten goosebumps at the way she subtly pressed herself closer before speaking.

"You gotta learn how to treat women like human beings, you fucking dirtbag. If I see you creeping on anyone of this town I'll have you arrested for harassment."

The man nodded enthusiastically as he took another step backwards. Mason rolled his eyes with a huff.

"One of us is gonna kick your ass if you don't get lost. Now."

That was enough, and in a few seconds they were left alone in the street. Mason relished on her closeness, the scent of her honey scented shampoo tickling his nose, the warmth of her body expanding through their clothes and seeming to reach inside him. But she cleared her throat and he lost it all. She took a step away from him and the hand that had been resting on her waist fell limp to his side.

"Thank you. It would have been awkward if the detective of the town punched a newcomer in the dick." She chuckled awkwardly. "So, you know, thank you."

"You already said that."

She met his eyes and his forced grin let her know he was trying to mess with her to lighten the mood.

"Right. We should, uh, go back." She moved to walk past him, but his long fingers curled around her forearm and she spinned around to meet his face, now suddenly serious. He opened his mouth and closed it, his brow furrowed as if what he was about to say was too difficult to say it out loud. His fingers loosened their grip and Alice thought he was going to let her go. Of course he was going to let her go. He wouldn't face the way he hurt her because that would mean he accepted they had something worth saving. Her eyes dropped to his grip, wanting to watch, forcing to accept, he was never going to make her stay.

But his fingers tightened with new force, and her gaze snapped back to his face.

Grey eyes, tempestuous with emotion, stared at her, moving wildly through her features before he finally found the words.

"Don't go."

Her breath caught on her throat at the thought that he wasn't just talking about going inside.

He feels those things, alright. You gotta be patient while he figures them out.

Felix's words echoed inside her mind. The seconds that went by seemed to last an eternity, before she nodded slowly. Mason's shoulders dropped as he exhaled, as if a great weight had been lifted off them.

"Okay, Mason."

Meanwhile, inside the bar

"Maybe one of us should have gone outside to mediate." Nate sighed, staring inside his glass of scotch. "Those two aren't exactly good at sharing how they feel."

"Who knows." Felix shrugged, a grin widening in his face. "Maybe they're already back at Allie's apartment."

"Why would they…? Oh." Nate realised, eyes widening.

"They say the bigger the fight, the best the make up sex gets." Felix wiggled his eyebrows. "If that's true, they're in for a hell of a night."

Nate cringed, very much wishing Felix hadn't put that image of his friends inside his brain. "Ugh. I just hope Mason finds a way to fix whatever he's done without hurting her anymore."

"She knew what she was getting into by getting involved with someone like Mason." Adam said matter of factly. "He doesn't really try to hide his brashness."

Nate nodded, Mason was all sharp edges and bluntness, while the detective was much softer, gentle. It was easy for someone like her to get cut while trying to hold on to someone like him. Maybe it was a matter of how many cuts and wounds she could resist before letting go. But he liked to believe that wouldn't happen - instead, her softness would envelope his sharpness, showing him a side of himself he didn't even know it existed. A small smile bloomed on Nate's face as the thought.

"I think they both have to learn how to be around each other now that their relationship is changing."

Adam shrugged, but Felix let out a dreamy sigh. "You're such a romantic, Natey. Mason would learn so much from you if he didn't get nauseous every time he thinks about love."

Nate chuckled. "You know, maybe that's about to change."

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A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged in the future! Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated 😍

TAGLIST: @agentnatesewell @gloynporslen @sunchipz @agentmasonjars @msjpuddleduck @utterlyinevitable @kat-tia801 @oxjenayxo

[marveloussupernerd]

I really enjoyed the way you wrote that Jumin Han ANGST my friend and if you don't mind I would very much like to request more ANGSTTT but with Seven because he is the CEO of ANGST FOR NO REASON. Be as creative as you want with it, you're the author! I was thinking something like MC getting seriously hurt/shot?? by someone who's after Seven from his agency work, or something less *deadly* like MC drunk and cheating/kissing another RFA member. Either way, I know I'll love what you come up with!

Hi bb! Sorry you’ve been waiting for this for like WEEKS but I was NOT in an angst vibe LMAO. But after I’ve brainstormed I’m v excited to write this. If ppl don’t like angst / want to see a resolution maybe request a pt 2 ? 🥺

Bullet Wound - Seven

Warnings: violence (shooting), medical stuff (surgery, injury), argument, spoilers for Seven’s real name !!

Summary: Seven’s company was not very happy that he betrayed them. Neither of you has thought it was a problem anymore. You were wrong. Seven feels responsible for you getting hurt

You held his hand, swinging it as you walked. “I had a lot of fun today,” you told him, smiling as you glanced at him, then down at your entwined hands, his golden wedding band shining in the sunlight.

“Me too! I can’t believe you had never had fish-shaped buns before today,” he mentioned, feigning shock.

You laughed. “They were very good. But honestly, I hadn’t even heard of them until the RFA talked about them.”

He sighed. “Who would believe my wife was so boring before she met me?”

You used your shoulder to ram into his side slightly, pushing him off his path slightly. He simply laughed. “What do you wanna do when we get home?”

“Hmmm...” you thought aloud, “nap. Cuddle. I’m exhausted.”

“You shouldn’t have stayed up all night with me when I was doing my work,” he pouted.

You shrugged. “What can I say? I can’t sleep without my husband by my side.”

He stopped for a second, halting you with him and pulling your hand slightly to turn you towards him. He had that goofy, fond smile you loved so much. “You’re so cute. I love you.” His voice was firm, full of meaning, as though nobody could deny it.

You couldn’t hide your grin, turning back on track and pulling him along with you. “I love you t-“

A deafening noise. It made you jump. “What the hell was that?” Seven exclaimed.

You looked around, trying to find the origin of the sound. And then you felt it; fire in your body. In your back. You placed a hand on it and flinched from the pain, blood slicking your hand. “Saeyoung,” you uttered out, the shock evident in your voice. “I think we need to run.”

He turned to look at where you were glancing, and then saw your hand. “Shit!” He exclaimed. Without hesitation, he swung you into his arms. “Hold on tight and stay with me, Babe.” He started running toward his babe car.

He threw the door open, setting you down gently in the seat. He buckled you up, hand pulling the lever to move the seat upright. “Ow!” You hissed in pain from the contact of the chair against your wound.

He shut the door and headed to his side, climbing in and driving off without even buckling his seatbelt. “I know it hurts but that’ll help keep some pressure on it. I’m driving to the ER as fast I can, so just hold on.”

“Sae... Saeyoung,” you choked out, trying to focus on your breathing and not the pain. “Your seatbelt.”

“Oh!” He used one hand to buckle it up. “Sorry. I didn’t even think about it.”

“You have to be safe too, okay?” You started tearing up. “Remember that.”

“Don’t say things like that.” He raised his voice. You nodded. You saw him frown. “I just... you’re making it sound like you’re going to die. And you’re not.” His voice was much softer now.

“I understand. I’m sorry I made it seem that way.” You let out a breathy sigh. “I’m just scared.”

He stopped the car pretty suddenly, right outside of the emergency room doors. He unbuckled, rushing out of the door, leaving his keys and phone inside. He opened yours and picked you up again. “I know. But you’re gonna be fine. I’m not going to leave your side.”

“I don’t think-“

“I’ll figure it out. Even if I have to watch you on the cameras. I’ll be here for you. Promise.”

“I love you,” you whimpered, lip trembling. You were scared.

“I need help! My wife’s been shot!” He announced as he entered the room. Fortunately, nobody was waiting and subject to the scene, only the people working there.

The lady at the front’s eyes widened. She announced something over the speakers, but you couldn’t hear it. “Where at?” You heard her ask Saeyoung. Your vision was blurry. You were nervous.

“Back.”

“Scale of 1 to 10?” They both shifted their eyes towards you.

“Eight.”

They didn’t stop looking at you. You raised an eyebrow. Why? “One to ten?” She asked again. Saeyoung looked petrified.

Were your words not coming out? You took a deep breath, focusing on expelling the air and moving your mouth to get the words out. “Eight.”

“Okay,” she nodded, scribbling things down. Seven smiled sadly at you.

Two people burst through the doors with one do those rolling beds. Seven set you down gently in it. He didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. Your eyes widened in fear as you heard the doctors frantically speaking medical jargon. Saeyoung, in the distance, blew you a kiss. You closed your eyes and tried to relax.

When you did open your eyes again, they felt extremely heavy. Like you were doing physical labor to open them. “Thank God!” It was Seven’s voice. You worked harder to open your eyes and saw him, still in his bloody outfit from earlier, bags under his eyes and concern marking his features.

“Hi,” you said weakly, trying to give him a smile.

“Oh my God. I was afraid I’d lose you.” His eyebrows knitted in concern. “Did you know your heart stopped during surgery?” A sob escaped from the back of his throat. “It stopped.”

“I’m here,” you whispered. Your voice was hoarse. “I’m still here.”

You reached out your hand to grab his own, not surprised to see an IV hooked to your arm. “This is all my fault.” He was crying hard now, eyes refusing to meet your own. “This is because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him.

“It is! None of this would have happened if I wouldn’t have let you get close.” He walked away from you, moving to look out the window. “I’m an idiot.”

“I don’t think so. I’m glad you let me in, Saeyoung. I don’t blame you for this at all.”

“But I do. I blame myself.” His voice was now more angry with himself than sad.

A knock on the door. The doctor. Saeyoung composed himself, turning to meet him.

“Nice to see you again, Saeyoung.” The doctor greeted, a bright smile on his face. “And there’s our fighter. How are you feeling?”

“I think whatever pain stuff you have me on helps, but I just woke up so I’m still a bit drowsy.”

He looked down at your chart. “You did sleep through the night. 17 hours,” he explained.

Your eyes snapped back to Seven. “You’ve been here for seventeen hours?” You asked, the shock evident in your voice.

The doctor laughed. “He’s been by your side the whole time. Now I do want to keep you probably for another few days to monitor, but it should be pretty relaxed. Just try to keep your mind at ease and your heart rate down. All helps the healing.”

“Any significant injuries I should know about?” You asked. You knew people got really messed up from shot wounds.

He grinned, shaking his head no. “You were very lucky. Didn’t hit any major organs or your spine. You’re in good shape, relatively speaking.” He wrote something on his sheet. “I’m going to make sure the nurses visit you every half hour. I’ll probably be back in two hours or so. If you need anything in between, feel free to page the nurses.”

“Thank you Doctor,” you smiled. He waved and left.

“I... don’t think we should do this,” Seven spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I’m putting you in too much danger,” he stated simply.

“Well I’m okay. And I think it’s worth it,” you defended.

He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re such... an idiot. How could you get shot because of me and still be so naive and stupid?” He wasn’t yelling, but his voice was cold. The beeping on your heart monitor steadily increased, betraying you by giving away how his words made you feel.

“And what do you want me to do about it Seven? It’s not like we’re just dating casually. We can’t just break up. We’re married. And thank goodness we are,” you added for good measure.

“‘Maybe we shouldn’t be.”

The monitor jumped again. This time it didn’t slow down. Your eyes felt heavy again and your back felt like it was on fire once more. “Don’t say that.” You whimpered, your voice quiet due to the pain.

“I’ll say what I want. It’s a bad idea.”

“Saeyoung.” Your voice was very firm. “I-“ you listened to the racing heart monitor again. “Do you hear that? My heartbeat? How fast it’s going because of things you’re saying? I’m supposed to be relaxed. You’re not helping.”

“I’m trying to make you be realistic” he defended.

“Go home Saeyoung.” You demanded.

“Huh?”

“Go home. Take a shower. Change out of the bloody clothes. Take a nap. Come back to me when you’ve decided to be mild and respectful of my health.”

“But, I-“

“No.” You said, allowing no room for argument. “You are upsetting me. Come back when you feel bette.r.”

“I’m scared to leave you,” he whimpered, turning to you so you could see his eyes watering.

“I need to be alone right now. Go home. See you later.”

He frowned. A lot. He sniffled.

“Stop!” You called to him. “You’re the one who said you wanted to get a divorce. And I said to leave and calm down for a while. So stop pouring.” You jutted your lip out. “I can’t get comfy laying down and my husband wants to divorce me because I got shot and I got shot.”

His frown only increased. “Take care,” he said softly, heading to the door. “I’ll respect your wishes.” He walked out the door.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 64

Warnings: mentions of depression, PTSD

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y,  @alievans007​

He wakes up gasping for air; body covered in a sheen of cold sweat and his legs frantically kicking at the blankets covering them.  The weight against his limbs seeming unbearable; thin, smooth cotton   weighing him down and trapping him where he lay. Chest both heaving AND aching;  a mixture of sheer terror and utter panic squeezing and tightening his lungs as he struggles to draw in a single breath. Brain stuck between the horrors of the nightmare he’d just endured and trying to make sense of the unfamiliar surroundings.  Fully aware that he SHOULD know where he is, yet finds it impossible to piece all together. An after effect of the handful of pain meds he’d swallowed dry before settling down to sleep; the strength of them further muddling an already battered and tortured mind. It’s gotten worse since the Ketamime. Increased instances of short term memory problems and finding himself more easily confused and having trouble with remembering even the simplest of words during a normal conversation.  And it frustrates him. Makes him feel broken and utterly useless.

It also makes the rage inside of him grow. An anger so raw and so profound that he can barely rein it in; worried that he’ll snap and take it out on the people who don’t deserve it. And there’s fear; bitter and legitimate.  Concerned that somehow the ketamine has caused permanent issues; aggravating his already brittle and fragile brain and leaving him with the worry that he’ll never get back to where he was before all of this ever happened.   The neurologist had long ago warned that it could happen; the damage done from lack of oxygen when he’d coded twice in the OR either worsening or becoming progressive.  And he’s operated under a guise of slight fear that his frustration surrounding his mental issues and the confusion he often experiences will only grow and eat away at him from the inside out; turning him into someone he no longer recognizes. That he can no longer stand.

The nightmares started twenty four hours ago.Vivid and horrifying. Temporarily parlazyed by drugs yet hands and feet still restrained by zip ties; a captor’s hand on his throat and another tightly gripping his hair as he’s forced to watch some of Mahajan’s men slowly torture and brutalize his wife and children. Mocking his rage, disgust, and grief; spitting in his face and digging their fingers into his eyes to force them open whenever he tries to close them. Unable to move yet desperate to save his family; resorting to sobbing and begging for mercy. Pleading with them to just leave Esme and the kids alone; that they’re  innocent and Mahajan could do whatever he wants to him. But they only laugh at him, keeping him firmly in place as they continue their brutality and make him listen to the way his family screams and cries out for them to help them. And it isn’t until one of the captors puts a gun to Esme’s head and pulls the trigger that he snaps awake; unable to move or speak in the same way he’d been immobilized and silenced three days before.

It’s the inability to move or speak that brings on the panic. His heart pounding in his chest  and his lungs impossibly tight and burning as they try to suck in air; violently shivering, his body covered head to toe in a cold sweat. And when the feeling of being paralysed subsides, his body and mind choose to fight; kicking and thrashing and writhing while tears spill down his cheeks. Unable to fully graph what is going on around him; hearing the thundering of his heart in his chest and the rush of blood in his ears both overwhelming and deafening. And he’s vaguely aware of her voice trying to push its way through all the madness; his name gentle and concerned at first, then more stern and forceful. He can feel her hands tightly gripping his forearms and then his shoulders. Looking right at her yet not actually seeing her. Focused instead on those horrible images still taking up residence in his brain.

“Tyler!”  Her hands on his face, nails digging into his cheeks. “Look at me! It’s over. Wherever you were, you’re not there anymore. You’re here. You’re right here. Look at me!”  She forces his face towards her when he attempts to look away. “Everything’s fine. Whatever it was, it’s gone. It’s okay. I’m here and you’re here and everything’s fine now.”

It finally begins to dissipate; panic subsiding and his lungs releasing and his heartbeat returning to normal. Breath still coming out in ragged pants and his legs -previously drawn impossibly straight and tight= relaxing and his fists letting go of their grip on the fitted sheet. He closes his eyes; feeling her hands on his face and the way her knuckles stroke his beard and her fingertips brush away his tears and her thumbs swipe across his lips.  And when he opens them he can actually see her; those terrifying and gruesome images from the nightmare disappearing. Her face mere inches from his; dark hair tumbling over her shoulders and down her back, tears in her eyes and the moonlight bathing her skin in a soft, silvery light.

“It’s okay now,” Esme says. “Everything’s fine. You’re not there anymore.  Wherever you were, you’re not there anymore.”

“Fuck…” he manages through ragged breath.  “...what the hell?”

“It was a panic attack. Or at least I think it was. One of those dissociative types. You used to get them all the time right after Dhaka. You haven’t had one in a long while. A few years at least.”

He sighs heavily -and shakily- and drops his chin to his chest. Easily relaxing at the touch of her hands; soft and soothing against his face and the side of his neck. Fingertips grazing his skin and gently tracing each tattoo and scar and bulging, strained muscle.

“It’s alright,”her voice is gentler than he’s ever remembered hearing it, and one of her hands slips around to the back of his head, the other rubbing his shoulder. “YOU’RE alright. Bad dream?”

He nods.

“You want to tell me about it, or…?”

“I can’t. Not this one. I can’t tell you about this one.”

“Worse than the ones you were having at home?”

“Way worse.”

“About me and the kids?”

“Don’t...please…don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” She gives a reassuring smile, running her nails along the back of his neck and up into his hair. “Baby, you’re sweating like crazy. You’re drenched. That must have been a really bad one.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!”

“I’m not asking you to talk about it.”  The tone of her voice never changes; soft and low and comforting. And she doesn’t become defensive or irritable when he snaps at her.  “Look at me...Tyler...look at me.”

He raises his head from his chest. Afraid of what he might find in her eyes. Annoyance. Frustration. Maybe even disappointment. Or even worse, pity. But none of that is there. He finds nothing but genuine concern and a tenderness and love that -even after almost seven years- he’s not sure he deserves. And neither of them  speak as her eyes slowly take in every inch of his face and her fingertips brush across his eyebrows  and down the bridge of his nose. Then over the scar on his forehead and near his left eye.  

“It’s okay.” Her voice is just shy of a whisper, and he closes his eyes once more when that impossibly soft touch travels down his jaw. “...everything’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m more about you than my sleep. Are you okay now?”

“Not really,” Tyler admits.

“Do you at least feel a little bit better?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“It’ll be alright. Whatever it was about, it wasn’t real. None of it actually happened. Wherever you were in that dream, you’re not there anymore. Do you need some anxiety meds or pain ones or a drink of water or…?”

“I can take care of myself.” His response is more irritable than he’d intended it to be, and now he sees the annoyance creep into her eyes and face. “I’m not a child. I don’t need you babying me.”

“Let me love you,” Esme implores. “Let me take care of you. You’ve done it for me.”

“I’m supposed to. I’m the guy.”

“Oh for fuck sake. Shut up, Tyler. You know how I hate when you say shit like that.”

With his face resting in her hands once again, she presses a kiss to his forehead. And his eyes flicker open as she climbs off the bed; feeling that slight dip in the mattress and then watching her as she heads for the ensuite bathroom. He feels pathetic; a watered down, weakened version of his former self that needs someone looking after him. His body and brain so messed up that he can barely function as a self sufficient adult. When the fuck did that happen? When did he become so goddamn soft that he needs someone...especially a woman...to take care of him? It makes him angry. Frustrated. That seven years ago some fucking teenager trying to impress a drug lord took so much away from him. His confidence. His pride. His ego. And that he’s been struggling ever since to hold onto the remaining shreds of those traits.

“What?”  Esme inquires as she returns from the bathroom, holding a bottle of meds and a glass of water in one hand and a damp face cloth in the other. She looks so goddamn cute; her hair messy and wild from sleep, clad in one of his t-shirts falling well past her knees and hiding the sleep shorts she wears underneath. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I love you.”  His response is simple. But heartfelt. And true.

“I know,” she says with a smile, then kneels in front of him in the middle of the bed. “And I love you. Here…” she hands him the bottle of meds and the water, then places the cloth against the back of his neck. It’s cool to the touch, and she holds it there for several seconds before softly patting it against his clammy skin. Over the nape of his neck and along his hairline line before moving to his forehead and temples.

“Why do you do this?” he asks.

“Do what?”

“Take care of me like this.”

She moves the cloth to the left side of his neck. “Would you rather I didn’t? Would I rather be the type of wife that doesn’t give a shit about you? That doesn’t give a fuck when you’re struggling?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I know you hate it. I know you think I’m babying you. That you somehow think it makes you less of a man. And I won’t get into how that’s the biggest bunch of horseshit I’ve ever heard. I do it because I love you. Because I want to take care of you. Because I worry about you. And because you’re my husband and the father of my children and my best friend and I hate that you’re going through this.”

“I’ve been going through it for about seven years. And you’re still here. Doing this.”

“I’m here because I want to be. Because my life would totally suck without you in it. Because we have a lot more really good times than we have really bad times.  And because regardless of what you think, you deserve someone that loves you wants to take care of you.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“I am. And besides, you’d do it for me. You HAVE done it for me. More times than you even realize. You’re not weak, Tyler. Being human doesn’t make you weak. You’re not a goddamn cyborg or some shit like that.”

“I just hate it. Being like this. It’s so fucked up, babe. My brain. I hate it and I hate living like this.”

“You’re not like anything.  You have issues. Lots of people have issues. Are they weak? Do you see them that way? How about me? I have mental health problems. Am I weak?”

“You’re the strongest person I know. You stick around. Through all of this bullshit. All of MY bullshit.”

“I stick around because my life is better with you in it. Because I love you and you make me smile and you make me laugh and you look at me like I’m the most beautiful, incredible woman on earth. And because we have a good life. A GREAT life. It’s just hard to remember that sometimes when this kind of stuff happens.”

He nods in agreement, eyes closing when he feels the press of the cool cloth against his throat; soft, feathery touches over the gathering of scars and tattoos and painful to the touch bruises. Before her, he’d never experience this; a voice so gentle, a touch so tender, eyes so loving. No one has ever looked at him the way she does. Not even having to touch him or even speak, yet so effectively letting him know exactly how she feels. It’s overwhelming. To be loved THAT much. And even now...after almost seven years and five kids...he’s embarrassed by the tears that well in his eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” Esme continues, running the cloth down the bridge of his nose, then along one side of his jaw, followed by the other. “That this is happening. The things going on in your brain. It’s not like you can stop it. It’s not like you can help it.”

“I haven’t been there in a long time. This place. This dark, hopeless fucking place. And I don’t know if I’m going to make it out. It’s dragging me down and it won’t let me go. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t talk like that, okay? Because that’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem. We’ve got you through this before. We’ve  got you out of that dark place. And we’ll get you out of there again.”

The tears come now. Slipping easily down his cheeks as she cradles his face in her hands; lips placing impossibly soft kisses across his brow and over his eyes; along each side of his jaw and then onto his lips.  And her forehead comes to rest against his, hands moving to the back of his neck and then into his hair.

*****

“It’s going to be okay.” she whispers. “You’ll be okay.”

“I fucking hope so. Because right now? I just want to put a bullet in my fucking brain.”

“That’s what you THINK you want to do. But I know you don’t. Because the last thing you want to do is leave those kids. I know that’s one of your worst fears; the kids growing up without you and forgetting about you.   And I also know that you love those kids  more than you love yourself. That you’re an amazing dad and you don’t take a single second with them for granted. You were given a second chance. A new life. And you don’t want to lose that.”

“They’d be better off. Without me. Without the bullshit that comes with me. All this fucking bullshit. The people I’ve pissed off. Guys like Mahajan who want me dead and will stop at nothing to make that happen. Who will hurt them to get to me. They don’t deserve that, and if I wasn’t around…”

“No. Stop,”  Esme orders. “Don’t go there. Don’t let your brain go there. That’s a bad place to go into, Tyler. Don’t even think about it . Don’t open that door. Because once you do and go in there…”

“Can’t you fucking see who I am? Why are you blind to it? I’m a fucking mercenary. I’m a shit person.  I kill people. For money.”

“You HELP people. For money. And sometimes, yes, you have  to kill. And it sucks and it’s hard and you always feel like shit after you do it. But you do it because you have to. Not because you WANT to. Not because you enjoy it. Would you rather it be you? Would they rather they kill you first? Or is that what you’re hoping? That someone will. So you don’t have to do it. You’re hoping that someone else does it for you. Is that where you are right now? Is that you’re head space?”

“I don’t want you to spend your life looking over your shoulder. Worrying about who’s going to come after you. Who’s coming to come after the kids. It doesn’t matter how many people I wipe off that list. It doesn’t matter if Anil takes out Mahajan. How many more do you think are out there? People that would love to get a hold of me and teach me a lesson? How many toes do you think I’ve stepped on? How many people do you think I’ve pissed off? You’re never going to be away from that. You’re always going to be a target. And so are those kids.”

“And I knew all of that going into this. I knew who you were and I knew all about your past and what you did for a living.  It was always right out there. I was in it too, remember? It’s how we met.  Right off the hop I knew everything I needed to know about you. Just like you knew everything about me.  And if I didn’t think I could handle it...handle YOU...I never would have stuck around in Australia after Dhaka. I would have left.  Pregnant or not. If I didn’t think I could deal, I would have been gone and you never would have heard from me again. I would have made sure you never would have been able to track me down.  You’re not the only one with a past, Tyler. You’re not the only one who has pissed people off and put yourself on umpteen shit lists.  The people I’ve lied to? The people whose lives I wormed my way into and who trusted me only to have me fuck everything up and bring in guys like you? Those kinds of people make Mahajan look innocent. So don’t sit here and act like you’re the only one who’s left a shit ton of burnt bridges behind you.”

“You’re not the one with blood on your hands.”

“The hell I’m not!” she argues, body and voice shaking with anger, tears threatening. “Who tracked down those guys in Dhaka? That had Ovi at that apartment. Who got people to trust her enough to tell her where Ovi was? It was me. I found out where he was and I was the one who sent you there. So yeah, I do have blood on my hands. Saju is  dead because of me. Because he had to get me out of that fucking shit hole. And you? What happened to you? That sniper, Farhad, the whole fucking mess? That’s on me too. And for seven years you’ve done nothing but blame yourself for decisions you made in Dhaka. Decisions you made for me so you could get me out of there. So YOUR  blood is on my hands too.”

He blinks at the vehemence in her voice.  

“You think you’re the only one with guilt? With regret? That you’re the only one who hates themselves for the way things went there? Every day for seven years I’ve felt like a shit fucking person for what happened. To Saju, to you. Every time I would see that scar on your neck or you’d talk about what happened or you’d second guess the choices you made, all I would think about is how much I hate for myself before being the one that  led you to the goddamn bridge.”

“You weren’t. It was the only way out of there. We had no other choice but to go there. None of that was on you. None of it.”

“IF I hadn't been there...in Dhaka...you wouldn’t have to make the choices you did.  You could have gotten yourself out of there. None of what happened on that bridge would have gone down. You don’t think I live with that? That I haven’t been living with? You think I don’t feel guilt or regret? That I don’t think it’s my fault that all this happened to you.  That I don’t think ‘if only I’d left. If only I’d pushed him away.  If only I didn’t let things happen between us’. You’re not the only one who thinks those things, Tyler.  Every time something goes wrong...every time some asshole comes after you...every time you get dragged back into this bullshit...I think about it. How what happened to  you on that bridge was my fault.”

“But it wasn’t,” he insists. “None of that was your fault.”

“You always talk about how you could have saved me from this life by pushing me away, by forcing me to leave, by not letting things happen between us in Dhaka. You think you’re the only one who thinks shit like that? That I haven’t thought about it? That I haven’t thought ‘if only I’d made him leave, he wouldn’t be going through all this crap trying to keep me safe’.  It’s all I’ve been thinking since all this shit with Mahajan started.  That I’ve I never let things happen or I’d pushed you away or if I hadn’t stayed in Australia…”

“If you hadn’t stayed, you’d be out there with my kid. My daughter.”

“But she’d be safe , right? You seem to think she’d be better off without you.  That her life would be better if you weren’t in it. Isn’t that what you said five minutes ago? That if you weren’t around, her life would be better. Did you not say that?”

Tyler  nods. “Yeah...I did.”

“You wouldn’t have known about her. You wouldn’t have known her name, what she looked like. Nothing. And that’s okay with you?”

“No. That’s not okay.”

“Had I walked away, you never would have known her. And she’s beautiful and she’s amazing and she’s so fucking smart and she’s so much like you. And she deserves having you in her life. Whether you want to be in it or not.”

He swallows around the lump of emotion sitting in his throat. “Of course I want to be in. She’s my daughter. My little girl.”

“Then why would you ever…ever...say that she’d be better off without you. Because that is so far from the truth. She loves you. She thinks the sun shines out of your ass, for fuck sakes. She adores you and worships the ground you walk on and yet you turn around and you’d take yourself out of her life?”

“I just want to protect her. All of them. You.”

“And you think not being around would do that? Saju is dead and Mahajan still went after his family. Neysa and Aarav are in hiding because of him. What makes you think they wouldn’t come after me and the kids? You really think they’d leave us alone? You being gone wouldn’t stop him, Tyler.  He’d come after us regardless. And we wouldn’t stand a chance. The only thing you being gone would do is kill all of us. Because without you, there’s no one to stop him.”

“And you think I can? Stop him? Look at me.”

“I don’t need to look at you. I don’t…”

He takes her chin in his hand, in the curve between his thumb and forefinger, and turns her head towards him. “Look at me. Take a good look at me. Look what they did. What one guy was able to do. I won’t be able to stop them.”

“You’re not going to be like this forever. A week at the most, right? And then you’ll go back to being you. You don’t let anything stop you. I saw you on that bridge. After that sniper got you. You were already in rough shape…horrible shape...way worse than you are now…and you still got up and fought back.  Nothing stops you. Especially not when it’s about your kids.”

He sighs, then lays his forehead against hers.

“The only thing that you being gone would do, is kill me,” she says,  eyes closed as the tears trickle down her cheeks. “Inside. Because I don’t want to do this without you. This life. We have five kids.  We have a whole life ahead of us. We have a lot of years to go still. We have kids to put into college and to see graduate and get married and have their own children. We’ll have grandkids to spoil. And I don’t want to do all that without you. It’s not that I can’t; I know I can. I just don’t want to.”

“Baby…” he holds her face in both hands and presses a kiss to her brow. “...I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to say that shit. It’s just all too much. Mahajan, his people, the other night, the fucking nightmares. It’s weighing me down and it’s eating me alive and I hate what it’s doing to me. And I’m scared. Because if anything happens to you or my kids…”

“It won’t. Not if you’re here. And I just don’t mean, here, here. I mean HERE. On this earth.  As long you’re here, fighting for us? Nothing can go wrong. And I need you fighting us. Not just me and the kids. But US.”

“I don’t know how much fight I have left in me, Esme. I’m pretty fucked up. The other night? What the guy managed to do? That never should have happened. If I was half the guy I was seven years ago….”

“You’re better than you were seven years ago, Tyler. In every way.  One bad night doesn't erase who you are and what you know and the things you’re capable of. And I don’t know how I can drill that into you. I don’t know to make you see yourself the way I see you. How your KIDS see you.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You mean with the sun shining out of my ass?”

“Yeah,” she manages a small laugh. “Just like that.  Or through Addie’s eyes; shitting rainbows and glitter.”

“The day I shit rainbows and glitter IS the day I put a bullet in my head.”

“You have five kids that love you so much.  Five beautiful, amazing kids. That YOU helped make. And they’re worth sticking around for, aren’t they?”

“Of course they are, baby. I didn’t really mean what I said. I’m frustrated and I’m in pain and I just want this shit to be over with. I just wanna go home.”

“I miss home,” she laments. “More than I thought it would. I miss it just being us and the kids.  I miss the beach and sitting out there at night with you. I miss us. The us we were BEFORE all of this. When things were calm and we were happy and didn’t have to worry like this. I want that back. I want US back.”

“So do I, Esme. You have no idea how bad I want that.”

“It hurt,” she says, and nestles her face in the spot between his neck and shoulder, both arms wrapped tightly around his torso. “Hearing you say what you did. That your kids would be better off without you. Because that’s so far from the truth. It would destroy them if something happened to you. And I would never forgive you if it was by your own hand. If you purposefully destroyed our children.”

“I didn’t mean it, baby. I just said it. It’s been a shit few days and I’m pissed off and I’m in pain and I feel like a weak, useless fuck. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He runs a hand over her hair and presses a kiss to her temple. “Last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.”

“I just need you to hang in there. In a few days, you’ll be ready to go. You’ll feel so much better and you’ll be ready to get back out there. You just need some time; to heal.  You’re no good to anyone like this and you’re especially not good for yourself and you’ll put yourself in danger. You just need to spend a few days NOT worrying about the job. Just hanging out with me and the kids and letting everyone else figure shit out. It will be nice, don’t you think? Time with me and the kids?”

“Of course it will.”

“And I know you won’t stop thinking about it entirely. Because the threat is still out there. But you’ll get some time with your family. And it would do the kids a world of good having you here and I know it will do the same for you.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“I don’t ever want to hear that kind of talk from you again. Saying we’d better off without you. Because that is so far from the truth. You have no idea how loved you actually are. I’d give anything to take this all away. So your brain wouldn't be the way it is. I’d fix it in a heartbeat.”

“I know you would. And I AM sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. That was pretty fucking stupid; what I said.”

“Yeah,” she nods. “It was. But I know you’re hurting, Tyler. And not just physically. We should go on  a trip; when all this is done. Just the two of us. Just get away for a week or two.  No kids. Just adult time.”

“That could be our making number six time,” he muses.

“It could be. If number six wasn’t already on the way.”

His body freezes against hers. “What?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you. Not until I had a doctor confirm it. But I was having all that PMS and it would go away and come back, go away, come back. Then I thought maybe I was just really stressed. Which I am. My stress level is the freaking roof. So when I started feeling sick and dizzy, I just thought that’s what it was. I mean, Addie’s only two and a half months and that would be really, really soon. But then again Millie was only two months when I got pregnant with the twins and…”

“Are you shitting me right now?”

“I let on things were normal. That nothing was going on. Because home tests aren’t always accurate. We had HOW many negative tests with Declan? So I thought I’d just keep it quiet and go along with it whenever you talk about having another one. That I’d just wait until we got home and I’d go see the doctor. And I also figured you didn’t need anything else on your plate right now, so…”

“You’re not joking, are you.”

Esme shakes her head.. “I’m sorry. I should have told you before. But there’s never really been a good time to tell you. So I just kept it to myself and…”

“Baby…” his hands find her shoulders, and he pulls back to look at her. “...are you fucking serious right now?”

She nods.

“Things haven’t been reversed yet. How did it…?”

“Doctor mistake? You never went back to check if things were working. Or not working. Or whatever. You were supposed to go back but Addie came early so you never did. So we didn’t find out for sure if you were shooting blanks or not, so…”

“I just assumed I was. I didn’t have reason to think the doctor fucked up.”

Tears once more sparkle in her eyes. “You don’t really think that, do you? That this is a fuck up? I mean, you wanted another one, right?”

“I don’t mean a fuck up in that way. I mean the doctor fucked up. Hasn’t he done one of these before? How hard could it be? You go in and shit or whatever. How do you screw that up?”

“This is kind of your fault too. I notice you didn’t tell me that we should have been using protection for a few months. The doctor must have told you that. He had to have told you that.”

“I mean, he might have. I don’t remember for sure. I guess he could have said something and I just forgot.”

“Well…” she shrugs. “...surprise. You’re going to be a dad. Again.”

“You’re sure?”

“I don’t know how reliable the tests are here. I’m assuming they’re fine and it was two pink lines and we’re pretty much experts on what two pink lines mean. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like THAT. Like you’re getting ready to flip your shit. I know it’s not the right time. But it is what it is. We’re having a baby.”

“Jesus Christ…” Tyler breathes, then pulls her into his arms. One hand on the small of her back, the other buried in her hair. “...are you serious?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about this. About ANYTHING. We have this uncanny ability of making babies at the worst possible time.   And if you don’t want it and you think we can’t handle it, then…”

“We can handle it. We’ve handled five before this. Millie didn’t come exactly at the right time either and we made that work. We found out about Addie in Ireland and that was pretty fucked up too.”

“You see why I need you around? THIS is why I need you. My kids need their dad. This baby needs you. I don’t want to do this without you, Tyler. We’re in this together. The two of us.”

“Well, actually, it’s three of us now, but…”

“Tell me this is going to be okay.  That  WE’RE going to be okay. That this baby will be okay. I need to hear you say it.”

He gives a small, reassuring smile. “The baby’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

It’s the first time arriving in Mumbai that he’s been that confident. About anything.

[a-tamed-dragon]

Within These Walls: Chapter 3

The only thing I’ve been consistent on in the past... well, at since 2017. Isn’t that sad? Here is Chapter 3 of my Tokka fic “Within These Walls”. 

In the wake of my own crumbling relationship of 3+ years, I have hope that somewhere in the atla-verse (lol like a pocket universe we spoke into existence) at least some people are happy somehow.

I would really appreciate feed-back on my writing. Thank you all!

Enjoy,

Prue

Part 1 Part 2

There wasn't anything out there as far as she could see. The wind was so loud in her sensitive ears it was deafening. She wasn't used to the cold, growing up in Ba Sing Se it was warm all year round. Her nose was numb with frost and the hair in her face was caked in snow. The thick fur around her hood muffled the whip of the arctic wind but did very little to clear the air. It was impossible to hear her travel partner, and currently, the man that was her eyes.

She knew they were in the village just outside of where they landed on Appa when many pairs of hands touched her shoulders and when she politely recoiled, a familiar arm encircled around her back.

"It's nice to see you too." His deep voice perked her ears up, attentively. "Where's Gran-Gran?" He excused themselves from the moderately sized crowd. The frozen girl heard her name passing numerous lips.

"That's Toph Beifong" – "Toph Beifong in our village." – "She must really be blind here." The comment made her set a hard brow, it wasn't malicious, but it was a weakness.

They were guided into a hut, the wind was silenced and warmth finally reached her frostbitten cheeks and nose. Even on rugs, the shoes she wore still muffled her vision like a heavy blindfold.

"Gran-Gran!" Sokka let go of his partner to rush towards his grandmother.

"Sokka, it's so nice to see you. My, you've grown." The old woman's voice was a new one to be stored in the blind-girls memory. That's how she knew everyone, she never forgot a voice. Sokka looked around the small hut of ice and blankets.

"Where's Master Paku?" He inquired.

"Oh, he had to go back to the Northern tribe and take care of a few things. You just missed him by 2 days." Before Sokka could say anything, Gran-gran asked, still in a merry tone. "How's Katara?"

"She's great! You'd be so proud to see her. She's a master, AND is working very closely with Aang." Sokka said in an excited tone, even though the siblings fought, they were still very proud of each other.

"That's my granddaughter." She said with a laugh. There was a pause and Toph stood where ever she was, still and tranquil with a hint of uncertainty.

"Gran-Gran, I'd like you to meet our very close friend- Toph Beifong, the best earth bender of all time." He gestured towards her, still one hand in his grandmothers'. The old woman approached her.

"Ah yes, I've heard so much about you. The fearless girl who can see with her feet." Toph smiled and extended a hand, she could hear the muffled sound of boots on the furs underfoot but couldn't distinguish much else. A rough warm hand closed around her mitten covered one.

"You invented a new form of bending, yes?" Toph was taller than Gran-Gran but not by all that much, she was still behind on a growth spurt.

"Metal bending, was it? Very smart." She clasped another hand over Toph's upper arm. "And very strong too." She turned back to her grandson. "Don't be a smart mouth with this one Sokka or you'll be through the roof." She said with a serious set face. Sokka rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders in the spotlight.

"Oh believe me Gran-Gran, I know." He nodded.

"It's so nice to finally meet you- uh, Mrs. Sokka's Grandma." She made an unsure laugh.

"AH HA" Gran-Gran chuckled wonderfully and warmly. "Just call me Gran-Gran." She smiled, even though Toph couldn't see it. Even with her red cheeks, the girl looked dangerously pale, almost ill.

"You two must be exhausted. I'll send some food. There are two pelts for each of you and I set out more blankets on the small table over there." She gave the direction really to Sokka but spoke facing Toph.

"Pleasure meeting you." Toph bowed respectively as Gran- Gran let go of her and went back to Sokka. Kissing his cheek and walking back out into the cold.

Unsure how to take off any of the heavy clothing, Toph was completely reliant on Sokka to take care of her. She was just a helpless little blind girl all over again.

They were alone and without the watchful eyes of the village, Sokka took the liberty of undressing her and began helping Toph out of her freezing clothes.

Taking his gloves off first and stuffing them in his pockets, he pulled her hood down ad untied the scar. He unraveled it with care and let the soaked scarf hit the rug. Occasionally his fingers brushed her cheek with undenounced purpose.

"Hands up." He had a smile with a light-hearted laugh.

Toph sniffed and raised her arms up, allowing him to pull the thick long coat over her head. She didn't feel odd about having the young man undress her. Beforehand, she had dressed her in traditional water tribe garb. Some of the clothes actually belonged to Katara: a blue shirt that V necked: pair of sweatpants over tight leggings: and boots he had to make her. He spend months finding just the right materials for the boots to be made, making her try many dozens of different furs on her feet to see what would be comfortable for him. He knew, and she had told him, that she would be blind once-off of Appa. However, he was grateful she took the trip with him.

The whole time Toph was like a compliant doll, probably used to it from the years of pampering from her parents and servants in Ba Sing Se. She raised her arms as needed and lifted a leg to slip the sweatpants off over her boots without a hitch or complaint. Nor was there any attempt by her to do it on her own. Sokka questioned that most of all, but upon getting the baggy pants off he discovered just why she didn't. 

He slipped the pants off of her left booted foot and with her right leg only planted on the ground, Toph lost her balance. It startled Sokka as she immediately bent to put her hand on his shoulder for stability. Without her ability to see through earth bending, everything was dark except for herself.

Sokka stood up, untied the string holding each of her mittens on, an original design meant for a child, and pulled them off with care.

"Cold?" His voice was amused but soft, he was leaning forward and into his charge.

"Freezing." Toph didn't sound as nearly amused as him.

Sokka brushed the long ebony hair away from her delicate face and tucked it behind her ears. He wore a half-smile with pride and laid the inside of his hand on her face, cradling her frozen cheek in his palm. His hands were warm and brought the feeling back in the tingling skin.

"Here." He rubbed his thumbs on the apples of her cheeks. Her pale green eyes were distantly lingering on his chest, although out of habit he looked into them.

With his hands on her, she was given an entire image of him, the way he stood close to her, his muscular arms held up gently to hold her face in his big hands.

"Thanks." Toph paused but her tone left more than one word. She saw the way Sika's chin tilted. "Huh." Her laugh was empty. "So this is what being blind feels like." Her indifference sparked concern in her best friends' chest.

"I guess." The back of his hand ran up the hollow of her cheek. "Are you mad about coming? I could take you home tomorrow morning if you want." Toph shook her head.

"No. I want to stay with you. How many times have I made you suffer at the academy, anyway?" Now there was forced humor in her voice, and she licked her chapped bottom lip. "I just hate feeling so- so"

"Hate feeling helpless?" Toph turned her face away, out of Sokka's hold.

"But this time I am, I've been here 10 minutes and am sick of not being able to see a thing. I mean, YOU'RE my feet. It's amazing if I'm not dead by the time we leave." She threw her hands up in a very Toph way and her voice was animated with amusement, not to hurt Sokka, but in her common joking vernacular.

"You're not missing anything and there's nothing to see but snow for miles. And the village? Not much either. And, HEY, you trust me more than that! "He chuckled when Toph stuck the tip of her tongue out at him and smiled, brightening her sullen face.

"It's funny." She raised her hands up, one finding perch on his broad chest, and the other searching for his hand. "I can't see-see you, it's like being completely alone."

"But you're not alone Toph, you're here with me." She could faintly see the sway of his head nodding in assurance.

"Not like that, dunder-head." She moved her head in her way of rolling her eyes. "It's like… look." She slid her fingertips up to his face and covered his eyes with her hands. "See that?"

"No."

"That's what I'm feeling. Like there isn't anything around me, there's only me, until I can feel through someone else." She moved her hand off of his face and was alone again. "Right now. I can't see you. Or feel your heart. Or tell if you're going to step one way or the other."

Sokka still looked into her eyes, now with a better view that her hair was pulled away.

"You can still see me Toph, you just have to use your hands." He put his hand around hers and brought it flat to his chest, just above his heart.

Toph's fingers splayed slightly, feeling the thump of his strong heart. It was silent in the hut for a moment as he looked down at her, and her face was tilted up towards his. The tiny ridge between her eyebrows told him that she had something on her mind.

"What else?" She asked.

Sokka smiled and took her other hand that was now at her side. He placed it to his cheek lightly. Toph could count on one hand the amount of times she purposefully touched Sokka’s face. Mosr of them in chaste kisses they no longer talk about, she felt his cheekbones but never tried to map his features out.

Toph's fingers swept up his temples and down along the bridge of his nose, delicately sweeping over his eyelids, and brows. She could feel his heart beat faster. The tip of her index finger and first knuckle caressed just along his jaw that was even sharper than the last time she thought she mapped it. She reached the dimple in his chin, he was looking down at her, and his lips were just barely parted.

The pads of her fingers brushed his lower lip and a small smile pulled at the corners of her baby doll lips. He didn't know what she was thinking about but had a feeling it was the same thing he was.

The young pair were pulled apart by a voice calling their attention from just outside the hut.

"Sokka, I said are you both hungry?" Sokka looked up, clearing his throat as Toph turned her head away and cast her glassy eyes downwards.

"Yeah, just leave it here. I'll get it. Thanks." He let her hand slip out his and went to the entrance

Part 4

---

I hope you are enjoying my little... excursion into this ooolddd ship... That I still ship. 

Leave a comment with constructive criticism or simply what you think!  

[kpopgroupsreact]

BTS REACTS: To seeing their ex with someone else pt. 2

Anonymous said to kpopgroupsreact: Please make a followup on the BTS post about their ex with anther guy, it was really good! Thanks and keep up the great work!!

Anonymous said to kpopgroupsreact: can you write a sequel for the bts reaction about seeing their ex-gf with someone? i might have shed a few tears and need some more emotional drama to read :))))(((((

This was requested TWICE, plus mentioned in the comments (yes I do make sure to read the comments!) so I felt it was only fair to write up a part 2!

Link to Part 1: https://kpopgroupsreact.tumblr.com/post/164483473571/bts-react-seeing-their-ex-with-someone-else

RM:

Did she ever love me?

It had only been a few minutes since he had spotted you at the statue with another guy. The smile you gave the man was still flashing in his mind like a broken projector image, despite your back being turned as you faced away. How long had it been since you had smiled at him like that? It was months ago, yet it felt even longer.

He missed you. He missed being the one to pick you up at the statue, he missed being the one to receive your smiles, and even more so he missed being the reason behind them.

What he didn't know at this moment was that the guy you had greeted with a smile was actually your cousin visiting you. You had invited him to the easiest landmark you could have thought of, and it had been the statue you used to set as a meeting place for your dates with Namjoon. The place was still special to you, and all the good memories it led to.

Jin:

That was me not too long ago...

He didn't know when he had pulled over to the side of the road. All he could do was watch you enter the cafe with the other man. He watched as the guy opened the door for you, his hands tightened on his steering wheel as he watched you two walk into the building. There were far too many emotions he was trying to process.

Anger. Frustration. Regret. Jealousy.

Before he could calm down he was already out of the car and racing towards the cafe. He stopped in front of the windows, looking in. He watched as you were ordering what you always ordered. He didn't even need to see you pointing to the menu. He knew what you would order. It's what you always ordered. The rose and honey latte you loved so much.

Although he didn't know you were just out with a colleague, the way the other man was making you smile and how at ease you appeared was making his head spin. You hadn't chosen this place, but it was the closest to where the two of you worked and you found it hard to refuse. Besides, it was just a few moments of discussing the assignment you two were working on together. You could manage a few moments in this place, couldn't you?

Suga:

Was I that easy to forget?

He had left the food untouched on the table and he couldn't focus. He couldn't wrap his head around what he had just seen. He sat motionless, staring at the doorway before he willed his body to move. Letting his instincts lead him out the door, past the staff and through the hallways trying to catch a glimpse of you again. He stopped at the corner, peering over the edge when he heard your laughter. You were smiling so brightly, your laughter resonating through the hall and in his chest. His throat felt dry and his chest tightened as he saw your interactions with the man beside you.

For you, however, this was simply work. You were being kind to the new co-MC for the music show and helping relieve his nerves by being as encouraging and optimistic as you could. It was hard for you to be okay on your own so this distraction was something you needed as well.

J-Hope:

Can't she even see me anymore?

He hated seeing you so focused on someone else. He was up on this stage and as much as he regretted stepping on it he dreaded stepping off it even more. If things had been like before he would be able to share this happy moment with you after the ceremony. But instead of happiness, he was feeling bitter. He wanted to take the mic and confess how much he missed you. But he couldn't and he hated it. He hated it all so much. He felt so helpless, so hopeless it was like the cheering had deafened him and his heart to silence. All he could feel was the numbness creeping over him. If people could see his heart right now it would be so damaged that the tears that slipped out wouldn’t be mistaken for tears of joy like they were at the moment.

You were still talking with the guy seated near you, but it was simply to ask for the earring that had fallen off and rolled underneath his chair. You had wanted to be discreet about it so as not to draw attention away from the award acceptance speech, but it appeared as if you two were sharing a special moment while whispering together.

Jimin:

So it all meant nothing?

The broken bracelet left an imprint in his hand as he eased it out of the fist he had made. He had squeezed it so hard, his skin was red and stung slightly as he traced the imprint and the bracelet. But it stung a lot less than his heart or the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes. He shut them tightly and shook his head to clear his thoughts before looking over his shoulder. He could still hear your laughter, although it was faint and distant. Just how you were now. So distant from him. His chest ached and he managed only a few steps towards his waiting room before he leaned against the wall, sliding to the ground and staring at the bracelet dangling from his fingers. It had been his first gift to you, and the memories that it brought back were suffocating him.

But he didn't know that the man was just a manager. That the bracelet hadn't been discarded carelessly but had broken and you hadn't noticed yet. If you had, you would have been desperately looking for it because you had kept wearing it despite everything. Because despite everything your memories with him and the bracelet meant everything to you.

V:

Was I that easy to replace?

His heart felt incredibly heavy in his chest and his eyes could no longer blink away the tears. He found himself walking past the corner convenience store and towards the park at the back of the building. He settled down into one of the swings, his broken voice as he called out your name was the only sound followed by his soft cries in the still night air.

However, you had been dropped off by a colleague's associate because your manager had to run back to the office to turn in some papers. You had been as polite as you could, continuously thanking the kind man for offering to drive you back home despite it being so late before heading back to his girlfriend. During the car ride his call to his girlfriend had given you nostalgia because it reminded you of how Taehyung would call you, either to make sure you were getting home safely when you were heading back on your own or to ask you out for the secret meetings consisting of ice cream and swinging at the park behind your building.

Jungkook:

That's rough y/n...

He looked away from the guy blocking his view of you but he couldn't help peeking every now and then. You were smiling, listening to him intently as he spoke to you. You handed over something to him and the guy gave a happy jump and waved as he walked away a few moments later. He watched your eyes linger, a warm smile on your face. It was one you often had when you were around him and he wondered what the other man had said to make you smile in such a way he thought only he could.

You had turned at the sound of your name, although you could have sworn you heard it twice. Once softly, and a second time far louder. You had turned just in time to see a fellow labelmate walk up to you to ask if you had an extra company banner to wave because his group was one short. You handed him yours and said it was alright for him to take it. It was just like you to be selfless, and despite not having any extras around you didn't hesitate to give yours up so that a friend would be happy. It was something Jungkook used to tease you about often, but behind the teasing, there was a fondness in his voice that always left you with an even warmer feeling than the actual selfless act itself.

[harrieatthemet]

Let Me Out

of course it’s fucking angst what do you want from me. 

Best friend Harry get’s too protective and you need to get out of the car

It’s catches him off guard, really.

He was naive, and maybe a bit full of himself, the first time. He saw the broad shouldered, dark haired man begin to approach the table and couldn’t help but assume he was coming to angle for an autograph or photo. It’s not like that hasn’t happened before. In fact, it’s happened plenty of times. Sure it was rude, because clearly he was out to dinner with someone and asking for a selfie while he had a mouth full of spaghetti was a bit invasive. 

“Actually,” the man interjects, and Harry can’t help but allow his eyebrows to raise, “I was coming to ask your friend for her number.”

So naturally, he was shocked. Maybe even a little offended, too. How did he know this wasn’t a date? He’s trying to peacefully enjoy your company, after waiting to see you for this long, and this guy deems it appropriate to insert himself. 

He’s not sure why he can feel that foreign twang of jealousy present itself. He can see you’re flustered, your cheeks flushing pink and your lips curling into a shy smile. He’s not enjoying the attention but you are, and perhaps that’s why his fist is forming into a ball beneath the table sheet. 

Now it’s the fifth time, and he can feel himself beginning to lose majority of his patience. There’s something about the men sat at the bar, the way they’re eying you collectively from their seats, that’s beginning to crawl under his skin in the most unsettling way. 

He knows it’s because of the shirt. God, that fucking shirt. In a way, he can understand why they’re attention is obsessively fixated on you. The shirt’s got a low V, low enough where he’s had to remind himself once or twice to keep his eyes on you and not your chest. Or maybe it’s because you just look so captivating in the low lights of the restaurant. It doesn’t really matter what the reason is behind the gawking, because either way it’s driving him up a wall. 

“M’sorry but,” he interrupts you mid-sentence, choosing to ignore the unamused furrow in your brow, “s’not bothering you?”

“What’s not bothering me?” You inquire, a little thrown off.

“That,” he answers, nodding his head at the men a couple feet away, “them. Been staring at you for th’entire bloody dinner.” 

“No,” you chuckle, and he frowns, “didn’t notice until you pointed it out. Harry, is it bothering you?”

He doesn’t take kindly to your playful tone. Because yes, it is bothering him. So much. He’s itching to tell you how bad but instead he decides to roll his eyes, hand reaching for his water before he takes a swig to keep his comments to himself. Of course, he can’t help but give an unfriendly glance at the blonde man in the button down who’s taken it upon himself to shoot you a wink when you peek over at him. And really, it’s out of character for Harry to have such an urge to jab someone in the mouth this badly. 

For the remainder of the night, he tries so hard to keep his eyes trained on you while you indulge him in all the details from your vacation. He’s trying so hard but he just can’t help but peek over at the lineup of pricks eyeballing you. He’s hoping it’s not noticeable, especially when the waiter comes by to place the check down on the table and he swivels in his seat just to make sure he can keep watch. 

“Have you even blinked?” You tease, and it’s then that he reroutes his attention.

“Yes,” he retorts, placing his credit card in the check folder before you get the chance to, “yes, I’ve blinked.” 

You swear he hasn’t, know he’s lying, because as soon as he pulls his gaze from you he’s right back to glaring again. 

He’s got a hand to your back as the two of you shuffle down the aisles of tables, his wallet in hand so he doesn’t forget to tip the hostess on his way out. 

He’s sure to keep his toes practically on your heels because the thought of these men getting their eyes stuck to your backside is too unbearable for him. And he doesn’t even wanna give them the satisfaction. He’s trying his very best to avoid the same interaction as the other time, having to listen to you giggle that sweet giggle when you’re being shy. The first time was enough, he didn’t need to hear it again. Unless, of course, it was him you were giggling for. 

But of course they wait until his attention is somewhere else, while his fingers shuffle through the cash tucked into a pocket within his wallet, to make their move. 

He can see one of them using his finger to point at your top, likely referencing what’s exposed of it so that the rest of his mates sat beside him can admire it the same way he was. 

Harry’s done a good job at biting his tongue, keeping his lips sealed and swallowing his temper. He’s a perfect gentleman, he thrives off of that and he would never want to be anything less. Especially when he’s out in public like this. But he’s at the very end of his rope, has patience dissipating as one of the men lifts himself from the bar stool before heading way towards where you’re stood. 

“Oi, mate,” Harry grumbles, sliding his body in front of you to create space, “if yeh had some manners yeh’d know her face is much prettier than her tits. She’s not interested.” 

He comes away from the interaction with a deep sense of relief, in addition to feeling like he’s just spared you from a brutal pick up line. But his proud smirk falls to a frown when he turns around only to see that you’re already heading out of the door, head low and pace faster than he thinks he’s ever seen it. 

Embarrassment. You can feel it throughout your entire body. Your stomach has hallowed out, the heat has settled into your cheeks and you can feel yourself wanting to succumb into your own body in attempt to hide from everyone. Even now, as you’re outside of the restaurant, you can still feel people’s stares boring into you. 

“Where’s the fire?” Harry calls, his feet picking up as he tries to catch you. 

He takes your bitter silence as enough of a sign to let him know that you, in fact, were not as amused as he initially thought you’d be after his remark just moments ago. Your arms are crossed, face stoic and cheeks flushed, and he realizes he would’ve been better off just keeping his mouth shut. 

“(Y/N),” he laughs, though it’s definitely a nervous one, “I drove, ‘member?”

Actually no, you had forgotten. He realizes he’s won himself a bit of time as you slow your pace, because you realize that he’s your ride home and he’ll make an even bigger scene before he lets you Uber by yourself. 

But the car ride back is no better, because the silence is deafening and he’s withholding a painful scream because, holy fuck, this is miserable. He can’t even enjoy the music he’s got on because you’re being quiet so loudly and he’s ready to burst. He knows he’s about to pull up to your place in a minute, but he’s got no intentions of letting you out of the car without discussing the elephant in the room, first. That’s why he locks the doors, to let you know you’ve gotta say something before you turn in for the night. 

“Gonna tell me why y’so hostile now?”

He’s readied himself for a proper scolding, watching with a cautious stare as you reposition yourself in the passenger seat with your mouth agape. You’re ready to speak, about to, before you quickly close your mouth and let out a sigh through your nose. Another period of silence ensues before you finally collect your thoughts. 

“You were so,” and you take a brief pause, trying to find the appropriate word that fits, “so out of line.”

“Out of line?” He scoffs, “They were looking at yeh like you were, I dunno like-like a piece of meat!”

“What do you not understand?” You groan, and he widens his eyes at your tone, “I didn’t care, it wasn’t bothering me. I’m a big girl, Harry, I can stand up for myself when I need to.”

“Well someone had to say somethin’.” He mutters, and your eyes impulsively roll. 

“It didn’t have to be you! And you didn’t have to say it like that! It was fucking humiliating having everyone stare at me the way they did.”

“How was tha’ not not bothering you? Being stared at like tha’?”

“Why was it bothering you that bad?” 

The hard, frustrated expression etched on his face falls flat mere seconds after the question rolls from your tongue. He’s gotta swallow hard, shut his eyes as he lets out a long sigh. Maybe he had gone about it wrong, fine, but the intention behind it was pure and it frustrated him that it was so difficult for you to see that. 

Why was it bothering him that bad? It’s obvious, clear as day even. He’s felt like this for a while. He almost can’t remember a time where he didn’t feel like this. It’s bothering him because you’re so much more than a nice body, with a pretty face and a cute giggle to boot. You’re worth a whole lot more than a lazy bar hook up. You’re worth a lot, and then some, to him. That’s why it was bothering him so bad. 

“Harry?” You hiss, and his patience bottoms out. 

“Cos I’m fucking in love with yeh, (Y/N), alright? S’tha’ wha’ yeh wanted to hear? S’tha’ a good enough reason for you?”

The mood in the car noticeably shifts, and so does Harry in his seat. He didn’t mean to get cross with you like that, didn’t mean to raise his voice. But it’s not necessarily the first of his concerns that come to mind, because he just impulsively divulged something that may have crossed a line. 

He’s waiting for you to say something, hoping that maybe you’ll come around and if he’s lucky, agree with him. But you don’t say much. You don’t say anything, really. And he swears he can hear his heart beating in his chest as you suck in a deep breath. Say something, say anything. 

“Can you let me out?” You whisper, and now he thinks he might start to cry. 

“Wha’?”

“Harry please let me out.”

Even though he doesn’t want to, his finger grazes the lock button on the driver’s door and swiftly pushes down on it. And you take a little piece of his heart with you out of the car, watching as you scurry inside and slam the door behind you. 

[keeroo92]

True North Part 3

This practically write itself. Thanks again @clevermentalitybeliever for your support! I kinda have to apologize for the giant pile of angst I’m leaving you, but the payout’s gonna be so good...This has turned into quite a project and I’m loving every minute!

Link to Part 1

Link to Part 2

Trigger/content warning - mentions of physical abuse.

____________________

V rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn, putting the car in park. He was half an hour early for work, but this was when you normally arrived. Your car wasn’t there yet, not a good sign. He took a gulp of his coffee, the strongest the barista could manage. So far, it hadn’t helped much. Six shots only to not lose consciousness.

He occupied his mind by thinking of new jokes, new ways to make you smile. Did you like pranks? Dante played enough on him as a child, he had plenty of ideas. Some would need to be toned down, Dante wasn’t exactly gentle.

He checked his phone. Ten minutes since he arrived.

How long should he wait before texting you? There hadn’t been any more messages since last night, but even in his current state he knew he was being paranoid. He couldn’t stop worrying, it was eating him alive and he didn’t understand why. You were his boss and his friend, yes, but so was Nero and he didn’t have this reaction to him being in danger.

Well, Nero is a fighter. He can take care of himself. She can’t.

That I know of.

He took another sip of coffee. The trouble was how much he simply didn’t know. His mind filled in the blanks with the worst case scenarios on repeat, merciless in its torment. It made him want to scream.

Another sip.

Was that an engine? He scanned the portion of road he could see in the rearview mirror, spotting a sedan on approach. It was the wrong color and he sat back with a huff. How long now? He checked his phone.

It’s only been fifteen minutes.

He sighed. Truly, this was driving him mad. All he wanted was to see you safe, make sure he hadn’t fucked up again. Why was that so exhausting, just to want one person to be safe?

Another sip.

His phone dinged.

Srry for late request, can U pick me up? Caleb not home.

V frowned. Was something wrong with your car? Did Caleb damage it somehow? It didn’t matter – he’d find out soon enough. He tapped out a quick response that he was on the way and started the car.

---Reader---

You smiled at his response. It was a relief to know that despite the disaster last night, V would still be there for you. He was a good man, a good friend. Honorable. Funny. Attractive.

And there I go again, thinking about how wonderful my employee is…

You distracted yourself by checking your email, catching up on your inbox as you waited by the window. There he was, pulling in right out front. You tapped the screen and hit send, telling him you were headed out to meet him.

You checked your reflection one more time, lifting the hem of your shirt to eye the angry bruise covering the lowest rib on the left side. It hurt like a bitch, but you didn’t think anything was broken. Cracked, at worst. You could get it looked at after work. All you had to do was not breathe deeply or twist and it should be fine.

Goddamnit, Caleb…

He was so kind growing up. Only over the last few years had he turned sour and angry. Sometimes he showed glimpses of who he used to be, and you weren’t quite ready to give up on him yet. Besides, he’d only hurt you a few times. Things would get better. He would get better. You just had to have faith.

He’s my brother and he loves me. He’s just going through a tough time.

You sighed and grabbed your purse. A twinge of pain in your side reminded you not to do that and you grimaced. It was going to be a long day.

Outside, V already had the door open for you. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and a dull sheen replacing the usual glint of energy within them. It was obvious he’d barely slept. You tried to move the same way you always did, hiding the pain under a mask of normalcy. Pain was temporary, family was forever.

“Thanks for coming,” you said. V smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Anytime.”

As if I didn’t feel bad enough already…

You buckled your seatbelt and realized this was the first time you’d ridden with him. He didn’t seem like he’d be a reckless driver, but you crossed your fingers anyway.

“So, where’s your car?” he asked.

“Caleb borrowed it.”

He frowned and pulled onto the main road. So far, so good. He was silent for a long time, eyes focused on the road. The silence was deafening, and you were tempted to try the radio when his lips parted.

“What happened after I left?”

There it was. The question you had no idea how to answer. You hated lying, and V deserved better. The truth was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. You swallowed and looked at your lap, watching your fingers fidget.

“He calmed down and went to bed. No big deal.”

His eyes stole a glance at your face as he stopped for a red light. He didn’t look away until the car in front of him moved, not even blinking as he watched you. It was unnerving and you hoped he’d go back to his normal self by the time you got to work.

Maybe a little less funny for a few days, just till I’m better…

He sighed. “You know, I don’t just think of you as my boss. You’re my friend. If Caleb ever crosses the line, I hope you trust me enough to tell me.”

Fuck, how do I respond to that?

The truth welled up in your throat again, threatening to force its way into the open. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw until it subsided. The desire to tell V everything was strong, but you were stronger. You had to be.

“I do trust you. There’s nothing to worry about. He’s all bark, no bite.”

Your voice sounded tremulous to your ears, but V nodded. His easy acceptance of your lie left you feeling sick as he pulled into the parking lot. Bile rose in your throat and you shoved it back as you got out of the car, moving slowly to favor your rib.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” V asked.

Damnit.

“Just a stomachache, I’ll be fine once I get some pepto.”

Once inside, you took stock. It wasn’t usually a problem if you left the shop in Peter’s hands, it rarely got busy enough to warrant more than two people working at a time. Nothing looked too far behind, so yesterday was more of the same.

“Can you start the sorting? I’ll do some appraisals until we open,” you said. Though he didn’t look happy to be assigned work on the other side of the building, V did as you asked. You breathed a careful sigh of relief and got to work, praying you’d make it through the day.

---V---

It was over a week before you seemed normal again, moving with ease and confidence throughout the shop. He hated keeping his mouth shut, hated that he was at least eighty percent certain of why you favored your left side. It stung that you didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth, but he understood and did his best to respect the boundary.

He swore if it ever happened again, he would unleash all his fury on Caleb.

The time he shared with you was precious and rare as the holidays approached, one of the two busy seasons. You hired a few seasonal employees and sent V to handle their training. It was either a compliment to his growing skill or an attempt to maintain some distance, and his mixed feelings left him confused and annoyed.

He wished every day that the easy, joking nature of your friendship would return, and every day he was disappointed. It hurt, far more than he would’ve guessed. You were the first friend he’d made in his new life after the Qlipoth. He was friendly with all his coworkers, but none of them made him smile the way you did.

He missed his familiars, too. Their companionship was worth more than he knew, and every time he felt the threads of connection that once flowed to them it broke his heart a little bit more.

By the week of Thanksgiving, he was the opposite of thankful.

He didn’t have any plans for the evening itself, and found himself going to work just to keep his mind occupied. He had a key now. You trusted him more with your business than your friendship.

Stop thinking about it. It never helps. Focus on the task in front of you.

A massive pile of new arrivals arrived just yesterday. It needed to be sorted and appraised, then he’d see how much he could fit on the sales floor before Black Friday. A daunting task, perfect to use as a distraction. He lost himself in it easily.

Hours passed. He didn’t notice how late it was until his phone buzzed angrily on the counter by his elbow. Nero was calling.

We’ve barely spoken in months, why is he calling me now?

He tapped the green button, then put it on speaker. “Hello.”

“V! Where the fuck are you? Turkey’s almost ready!”

His brows furrowed. Not once had Nero mentioned he was welcome for the feast, and Fortuna was a seven hour drive away. He picked up the phone and switched off speaker, already pacing. He could barely hear the young man with the cacophony in the background. Quite a party he was missing.

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t told I was welcome.”

“Dude. We didn’t think you were so dense you needed to hear it out loud. You’re always welcome.”

His lips twitched. A simple miscommunication, then. How absurd, to have wasted so much energy and time feeling lonely. Relationships were far too complicated; he wasn’t a mind reader, how was he supposed to know?

“Next time, I’d appreciate more direct communication.”

“Yeah, no problem. Guessing you can’t make it, then? Still in Red Grave?”

“Yes, I have to work tomorrow.”

“All right, well I’m putting you on speaker. Everybody say hi to Uncle V!”

What sounded like at least fifty people shouted out various iterations of the greeting and V’s heart warmed at the sheer number of voices on the other end. Only one was missing.

Yours.

He sighed. “Thank you, everyone. I’ll visit soon, I promise.”

“You better!”

The line cut out for a moment as Nero took him off speaker. The background noise faded and V could almost hear Nero’s heavy footsteps as he left behind the bulk of the group.

“What’s up, brother? You seem weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

What should he say? Was any of it even worth mentioning? Nero was at a party, he had better things to do than listen to his complaints.

“I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Tell me or I start driving.”

And suddenly he couldn’t hold it in anymore. The stress, the guilt, the loneliness. His joy at finding a friend and his sorrow at the chasm that now separated you. How much it hurt to be held at arms distance. The pain that despite the victory over Urizen, he felt like he’d lost. By the time he fell silent, he was utterly drained.

“Jeez, dude… That’s a lot. I’m sorry you’re dealing with so much shit. I mean, the way you talk about Y/N sounds like how I talk about Kyrie.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Damn, you really are dense sometimes. I mean you want more than friendship from her. That’s why it hurts so much. You got feelings.”

V sighed. He could hardly believe he was actually listening to Nero. But he was the only person he knew in a successful relationship, so maybe he had a point.

“I can’t deny I’ve entertained the thought. More than once. I’ve almost paid her back, but she’s still my boss.”

“Then quit. Find a new job.”

He shook his head. “I like working here, though. Working with her.”

“You need to figure out what’s more important, then. The job, or the lady. Ah, shit, someone started a food fight. I gotta go, but call me soon. Or I’ll call you, whatever.”

“Thanks, Nero. Talk to you soon.”

He lowered the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a lot of thinking to do, but there was one thing he had to do first. With a few taps of the touch screen, he hit send before he could think too much. Three words.

I miss you.

Part 4

[b1ipblip]

In Too Deep| 7- Right?

Warning: death

Before entering the mansion, you slide off his back and on your feet. When Namjoon opens the door this time, there is no chaos. Just tense silence remains. Suga sits on the arm of the couch and Jungkook leans back into a recliner with his tablet in hand. The two of them meet Namjoon’s eyes and then each other as they silently figure out who was going to speak first.

“We scanned the whole mansion and all of our offices three times each. We found the rest of the bugs and scrambled them,” Jungkook starts. However, the next sentence wouldn’t form on his tongue. “But...” he trails off hesitantly.

“We still haven’t figured out who it was for sure. We have a list of suspects, though,” Suga finishes.

“Alright, call them down here for interrogation,” Namjoon says. Your body tenses up as you prepare for them to say your name. You know it wasn’t you. Right?

“Y/n,” your heart stops. You slowly pull your eyes to meet Suga’s. You prepare for the worst as your throat shrinks and your chest tightens. “We have no reason to believe that you planted them. It seems someone has tried to frame you,”

A wave of relief washes over your stiff body. Your body decompresses and you allow yourself to put your guard down. Even though the thought of someone framing you for what is pretty much treason is terrifying, it’s less terrifying than being accused of a false crime. You swallow and nod, not trusting your voice. You silently walk up the stairs to your room. Your calf muscles ache with each step, but you don’t stop until you are in your room with the door locked.

You lean against the wall and just breathe. Your back slides down and you take your face in your hands. You stare at the window that was still open from earlier today. Your bottoms of your feet throb and your arms burn. A soft knock brings you out of your daze. “__? It’s just me. Can I come in?” you recognize Hoseok’s voice. 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you say, not moving from your spot on the floor. The door opens slowly and Hoseok peeks around until he sees you with your knees to your chest. You look up with just your eyes and nod. “Hey,” He sits beside you with his legs crossed and looking out the same window.

“I just came to check up on you,” You respond with a hum. He slides down next to you with his legs crossed. “I’m real sorry for the way Jimin acted today. He just really care for this family. It’s all he has,” you nod, getting where Jimin was coming from.

“It’s fine, really. I was just shaken a bit,” you respond. “I’m just curious of why Namjoon came to get me. He’s the last person I’d expect,” He laughs under his breath.

“It looks like he really cares for you.”

You look at him and lift a brow. “Me? He barely knows me. I get he has some kind of obligation to keep me alive, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say he cares,” you brush off with a smirk.

“No really!” he sits up and looks at you with a grin. “I even offered to get you. He said he wanted to,” he covers his mouth as he laughs. You stare at the floor in silence, taking in his words.

“He’s confusing. One minute he wants to use me in the field and the next it’s this,” Hoseok’s laughter abruptly stops.

“You heard?” he asks, almost ashamed. You nod. “I-”, his words trail off. 

“It’s nothing really. It’s only logical to make a bad situation work in your favor. I don’t think I’d mind doing it either. I’m stuck here, might as well earn my keep,” you shrug a little too nonchalantly. Hoseok looks at you sternly.

“I don’t think you know what you are getting into. This isn’t the life you want,” his eyes bore into yours with each word.

But yours glare right back. “I know it’s not the life I want, but it was the life I was given. I’m already in this deep, and there’s no way around it,” His face falls into something sadder. As much as he wishes you were wrong, you weren’t. You pick yourself off the ground and look down at him with an unreadable face. “I appreciate the concern, though. It means a-” A deafening bang comes from below.

“That sound an awful lot like a gun,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper. You swing the door open and Hoseok scrambles behind you. Out of the hall and down the main stairs, you meet other members who also heard the same shot.

“Does anyone know where that came from?” Hoseok asks the group. Before anyone could answer, Namjoon walks out of a hall and into the foyer splattered in blood. No one moves a muscle or says a word.

“Found the rat. He had the insignia tattooed on his back like a dumbass. Before I shot him, he gave me some good info. Said his leader is to meet someone at one of their clubs tomorrow night. Luckily, I know the owner and can arrange something,” He turns to you with a tight jaw and takes a deep breath. “I need you to do something for me,” He rests a hand on your shoulder. Your head tilts and he takes it as a sign to proceed. “I need you to go undercover as a bartender and get any information you can about him: his whereabouts, his colleagues, anything. I know you have never done this before, but I am asking you out of necessity. I would send Jimin if I could, but they know his face too well. They know all of our faces,” He gets to eye level with you.

“Will you do that for me?” his voice grows softer. A beat later, you nod. The sincerity he held in his voice made it impossible to refuse. He stands up straight and speaks under his breath, “Good girl.” Meanwhile a knot of anxiety forms in your abdomen.

~~

The dimly lit club vibrates with bass heavy music. “Suni?” You whip around at the sound of your made-up name.

“Yes?” you answer. You find a short man standing behind you. Wrinkles around his eyes age his face.

“Namjoon told me you’d be coming. Follow me to the back and we’ll get you dressed,” Dressed? You didn’t think bartenders had a specific uniform. You follow him through the throngs of people. “When Namjoon told me he had a girl coming to see me, this was definitely not the situation I imagined,” You’d rather not imagine the situation. When he gets to the door that said “Women’s locker room”, he ushered you inside.

“Alright girls, this is Suni. She’s working tonight. Find her something nice to wear too,” his voice drops an octave as he finishes his sentence. He shuts the door behind you. Only one or two looked over, but you felt like the world was staring.

All the women in the locker room were obviously not bartenders or waitresses. They were dancers or more specifically strippers. Your face goes red and your shoulders bunch up. You couldn’t see your comfort zone with binoculars from where you were.

“Uh, I think there has been a... mistake? I’m here for a bartending job?” you stumble over your words. Your heartbeat quickens as the full weight of the situation bears on you. But the door slammed shut before he could even hear you. One of the girls finishes strapping on her shoes and walks to you.

“I think he has different plans for you,” she looks at you with a sympathetic smile. “This your first time dancing?” you nod slowly. “Don’t worry, I got you covered. Name’s Mimi by the way,” If you knew how to use your brain, you would have turned around and walked right back out that door to call Namjoon. But you don’t.

She takes you by the hand to a handful of lockers with various clothing. “You hear on a job?” she asks quietly. You start to panic. Your eyes widen and she shakes her head. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen plenty of girls hear for that reason. Your secret is safe with me,” Her gentle smile puts you more at ease.

 “How do you feel about a bikini set?” She shows you a red latex set and your heart leaps into your throat.

“Do you have anything, I don’t know, like... less revealing?” Your insecurities take reign of your voice as you speak between bared teeth.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You seem more like the shy type. So maybe we can pull some lighter colors? Nothing harsh like neons or black. A lot of guys are really into the whole innocent thing anyway. It’s refreshing,” she rambles before pulling you a lavender bodysuit. It was quite beautiful with the iridescent stones.

It reminded you of the vintage swimsuits with its high leg and deep v halter. “I think this would work. It’s pretty conservative for a dancer,”

“I’ll wear it,” you swallow your fear and change in the corner. You have been sent with a mission. You cannot compromise this. She lends you a pair of shoes with a thick clear heel and lavender feathers. She helps you get ready in a secluded part of the locker room and gives you advice.

“I wouldn’t try anything too crazy on the pole, we don’t want you getting hurt. Think of it as an accessory. Also, there is a no-touch rule on stage. However, if you get called for a private show, they can. Don’t be afraid to leave if someone gets too handsy. They still can’t have sex with you back there though. Don’t let them convince you they can, okay?” Her attempt at comfort only made it worse as your palms begin to sweat. You nod nevertheless and she ushers you onto the stage with her despite your objection.

“Remember, you are here for one reason. And that is to complete the job you have. Hesitation will only get you eaten alive here. So, go out there and do your job,” her words were firm and her gaze was steady. Before you can reply, you can hear the hollering and whistling. She takes you by the hand and struts to the mic. “Alright boys, this is Minx. This is her first night and she’s a little shy. So make her feel welcome,” she tosses her hair back and winks at the crowd. The lighted stage was divided up with two poles per section. The neon beneath the floor glowed red and purple as the song changed into something less generic.

She brings you to a pole and joins you. The bass in the music slows down into something more intimate. You watch Mimi first, absorbing the way her body moves smoothly with the music. You begin to pick up on the movement and began dancing too. You feel eyes pierce your body as you dance. Your ankle hooks around the pole and you twist around. With an arm wrapped around the pole, you follow the moves you’ve seen on youtube. You often went down internet rabbit holes and pole dancing is one of them. Luckily, you have kept your core strength from all those years of judo. Otherwise, you would be making a fool of yourself. 

You distract yourself, thinking about what exactly Namjoon needed to hear. You recall him mentioning the person of interest had a silver eyebrow piercing and rose-colored hair. You search the crowd for someone with these features. Your eyes catch the reflection of the stage lights against a small dot above the eyebrow of a man with blush-tone hair. Jackpot, you think. You focus your gaze on him. He smirks at you and rests his head on his knuckles. 

You push back the memory of your kidnapping. You try not to think about the bruises that covered your arms and legs because of him.

 Songs continue to play and you dance still. Your muscles burn, but you don’t let it show on your face. You’re not sure how you were going to hear him from the stage. You needed to get him during that meeting. It’ll probably be in a private room or somewhere quieter.  Make him take his guard down. Make him believe you aren’t a threat. Make eye contact with him. You roll your hips a little slower and run your hand through your hair a little more often.  You need him to notice you.

He looks down at his watch and walks away from his spot in the crowd. You curse silently. You can’t follow him in; you’d be noticed right away. You continue to dance but your mind is elsewhere. It isn’t until the same old man who brought you to the locker room whistles at you that you remember where you were standing. You glance at Mimi, and she nods you off. You peel off the stage and follow the old man silently. He takes you to a room with large chairs surrounding a table. 

The lights glow a neon red and the wall are painted black. Three men lounge in the chairs. You notice two other girls in the room as well. One is sitting in a lap and the other is pouring a drink. Then your eyes land on the man with pink hair. It was your lucky day, you might get to leave sooner than you thought. NCT’s leader beckons you closer with a single finger. Your shoulders bunch up and you clasp your hands in front of you. “Aw,” he coos. “We got a shy one,” He takes one of your hands and guides you on to his lap. You comply and hold back the vile feeling in your throat when he rests his hand on your ass.

They begin talking about various things such, most of them meaningless at first. Taeyong, you learned his name was, asks you to pour him a drink. You gently pour the drink without letting it splash. You hand it to him and take your seat on his lap once again. “Now let’s talk about what we actually came here to discuss,” You pretend to not listen. “I want to form an alliance,” Taeyong’s hand glides down your back and you try not to shiver. The statement was met with silence. You couldn’t believe he was planning something like this with outsiders in the room. Maybe he was just that cocky.

“Why?” one of the men finally said.

“We all know who’s controlling most of Seoul. I want to take him out and get back what was ours in the beginning. When we do, we’ll divide territory up equally. Everyone gets their share,” Taeyong says bluntly. You listen closely for names. The two men were called Suho and Wonho.

You learn that they want to start by taking the harbors. The rest of the talk is logistics and compromises. While they talk, you formulate the best way to get back to Namjoon and the others. While Suho and Wonho spoke, Taeyong holds the glass of brandy up to you. “Care for a drink?” You knew you couldn’t refuse, not in your circumstances. You nod and go to reach for it. “Ah ah ah,” he tuts. He lifts the glass to your lips and tilts it. The harsh liquor hits the back of your throat and burns on the way down. When he pulls the glass away, he gently wipes away the drop of brandy that escaped your lips. It was odd to you how gentle he was. Even though to him you were just a stripper, his touch was soft. “There you go, now maybe you can loosen up a bit. You seem a little tense. I promise not to hurt ya,” He glides his thumb back and forth across your hip in an almost comforting manner had it not been for the situation you were currently in.

“Okay,” you say quietly. Your shy demeanor and submissive behaviors were absolutely intoxicating to him. He begins to consider whether or not he should take you home. He’d love to see the way you’d blush when he face hovers just inches above yours.

But when the other men begin to leave, you disappear before he could even blink. You wanted to get out of that red room as soon as you could. You trace your steps back to the women’s locker room. Girls chatter back and forth and pay you no mind as you head to the bathroom. You lock yourself in a bathroom stall and call Namjoon. You lean against the cool stall wall trying to ground yourself. Your fried nerves only now begin to show as your hands shake when dialing the number. You look up to the ceiling and let out a ragged breath as the phone rings. “Hello?” he picks up.

“Namjoon is that you?” you ask.

“Yes of course. Is something wrong? You sound panicked,” you swallow hard.

“No no of course not. I- I’m finished. Can you send someone to get... me?” You try your best to keep your anxiety under control through your tight jaw.

“I’m on my way. I’ll get you from the back door. Don’t be alarmed if you see me wearing a face mask,”

You nod to yourself. “Okay, thank you,” you hang up.  You knew that if you kept busy that you wouldn’t panic.

So, you waste no time getting out of the purple bodysuit and back into the clothes you walked in with. You notice bruises beginning to form on your arms and leg. Mostly your forearms and shins where the pole was mostly. Unfortunately, your clothes didn’t cover up all the bruises. They still peeked out from beneath the hem of your pants and your sleeves.

You sit in a chair outside of the locker room with your arms wrapping around you. You bounce your knee and look up every once in a while. The back door was at the end of the hallway you were in. You try to drown out your anxiety by feeling the bass reverberate through your chest until Namjoon got you.

When the back door opens, you immediately stand up. Namjoon saw the startled look in your eyes and approached cautiously. “Alright, we can get out of here. Okay, I parked a block over so that no one could follow,” he gestures for you to follow him out the windowless door.

The sharp wind cuts into your bones the moment you step outside. Goosebumps prickle up your arm and you wrap your arms around yourself. Namjoon walked at your side down the sidewalk. He peeked over and noticed your shivering form. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he shrugs his jacket off. “Here. You must be freezing in that,” he drapes his long coat over your shoulders and you wrap it around yourself.

He found it amusing how small you looked. The coat that reached midthigh for him hung below the knee for you. You shuffled down the sidewalk as fatigue clings to your bones. 

When you reach the car, you slide into the passenger seat while he drives. “So what did you get?”

“They were talking about forming an alliance. There were two other people with him. I think their names were Suho and Wonho,” He purses his lips together. “They want to take Seoul back and split up territory among the three of them,”

“Wonho is Shownu’s right hand. I guess our alliance with the X’s is over,” Your face drops and you look over at him.

“Shownu?” He takes a quick glance and catches your eyes drooping. 

He nods. “I know he was your boss and all, but now we’re his target. This is why tomorrow I want to start training you and build your strength up,” 

You nod slowly and turn towards the window lazily. The conversation dropped off after that. You remained in silence for the duration of the ride home. When you reached home, Namjoon calls for a meeting between the seven members and you. You meet in the living room. The L-shaped couch fills up with bodies.

“Y/n has found out some new information tonight. Y/n, would you please tell the rest?” he turns to you. You nod before beginning.

“They want to form a three-way alliance. Including NCT, the X’s, and whoever Suho speaks for. They said they want to take back Seoul and split the territory. They wanted to overthrow whoever ‘owns Seoul’. They said they wanted to start by securing the harbors,” you repeat. You shrug off the coat Namjoon lent you and leaned forward. You rest your forearms on your knees and sigh.

“Then we need to be one step ahead of them,” V states simply. “We can station some of our men around our ports and wait for them to come to us,” The group nods in agreement. Your eyebrows knit together in thought. It wasn’t that his idea was not good, it just had flaws. Namjoon notices your troubled expression.

“Y/n, you look like you have something to say,” he says, turning a glance towards you, curious of what your were thinking.

“ I’m worried about letting them have the advantage of knowing. They can figure out that their plan to take the ports will be met with resistance, so they’ll be ready if we let them come to us. I'm not saying we should pull up and go in guns a’ blazing and dicks a’ swinging, of course. In fact, that’s about the worst idea given the lack of information you are working with. This little feud seems like it will turn into a war rather than a battle, so we’re in it for the long run. Might as well use our time wisely,” you offer. You are met with silence. “O-of course that’s just what I think. But I am just an outsider of course,” you stutter out after the quiet gets to you.

“There is a state dinner with all the leaders coming up. Of course, we can’t make a scene, but we can gain more information,” Namjoon adds on.

“The more we know about them, the better advantage we get,” Jin says. The group came to an unspoken agreement quickly thereafter. Quick glances to each other assure the leader.

“Are we just going to gloss over the fact that ‘guns a’  blazing and dicks a’ swinging’ just came out of __’s mouth?” Jungkook said. Muffled laughter turns into snickers and you shrug with a smirk.

“I have been told I have a way with words,” you return. To which Jungkook nods almost comically quick.

The laughter dies down and quiet side conversations are being held. You notice Hoseok, who was sitting next to you, staring at your arm. You remember the bruises. “Y/n, you didn’t get in a fight, did you? I wouldn't think the job would call for that,” he asks with worry laced in his voice.

You shake your head, “No, it’s nothing like that,” you brush off with a feigned laugh.

“I know you didn’t have those bruises when you left. So, what happened?” he asks. You freeze. You should tell him the truth, right? There is no reason to hide it. Even though what you did was slightly dehumanizing, there’s no reason for Namjoon to feel bad about sending you on the mission. Would he even feel bad? Maybe he’d think of you as less.

You swallow hard and tell Hoseok anyway, praying the other six were not paying attention. “Let’s just say that I didn’t get to be a bartender tonight. The owner of the club had different ideas,” you say under your breath.

Hoseok’s face drops. “You don’t mean you had to...” he trails off. “He made you pretend to be a stripper?” he looks at you horrified. You press your lips into a thin line and nod slightly, trying not to draw attention to it.

His face suddenly gains a grim almost angry look. “They didn’t touch you, did they?” he asks in a low voice.

“Not i-in the way you’re thinking,” your shoulders bunch. Little to your knowledge, the other conversations halted and attention was focused on you two. “Nothing too bad I g-guess,” you fold in in yourself, recalling the lingering touches.

“Hold on. Touch you? Y/n, what happened?” Namjoon asks, a face of worry overcoming him.

“She didn’t get to be a bartender like you said she would. They made her strip on stage and sounds like being a personal ‘companion’ for Taeyong,” Hoseok answers with a grimace before you can try to come up with a euphemism to down play the situation.

Namjoon rests his head on his hands and runs his fingers through his hair. “No wonder you called me frantic,” he kneads his temples with his fingers. and mutters to himself. “God, I’m an idiot,”

“It’s not your fault so don’t feel bad. I mean, this is just a part of being a part of the job I guess?” You respond callousedly. Hoseok shakes his head fervently.

“No it’s not. It’s not okay,” he says. You bite down in your lip as sympathetic gazes land on your sunken in form.

“He’s right. I promise I won’t let you be put in that situation ever again,” Namjoon swears. “I promise to keep you safe.”

[limitedrevolverworks]

My Mother 2.0 [2]

[Chapter 1]

Above all else, it’s the silence that that he cannot comprehend.

A deep quiet fills his ears, flooding with a silence so paradoxically deafening. Mere instinct reaches out as best it can, grasping for the slightest vibration it could feed to eardrums sorely starving for that hint of familiarity, but all it can scoop out of the stale air is an utter anomaly it doesn’t know what to make of. The frightening shadow of an indecipherable unknown looms over him, daring his powerless, broken shell to do something, anything about it that he obviously cannot. He could chalk it up to the numbness that seems to envelop his entire being, from the smallest atom to the very thoughts produced by his half-comatose brain, but even in his stupor, the boy knows better. And of all the interrogatives pressing down on him, this one feels the most daunting precisely because he can blame it on himself, rather than some factor outside the scope of his perceptions. It’s a minuscule, vibrant spark of audacity that the very mind culpable for its creation regards it with cautious hesitation, unable to fathom its own ability to birth it. For a time that his diluted consciousness desperately stretches into a seeming eternity, the child refuses to acknowledge the one truth he could process, choosing instead to wallow in an uncertain oblivion that is at least partially of his own making. It’s a long, drawn out, tiresome battle, a silent war fought without weapons, a peaceful, stubborn conflict where nothing happens aside from waiting, waiting.

Waiting.

He doesn’t realize the gradually shifting tide of his struggle until his sole serviceable eye timidly spreads open to brave the unknown sight that has been waiting all along for his acceptance.

Now, the boy finally admits it: that the very unknown he should fear, he very much welcomes far more than anything he’s ever been acquainted with.

And so…

At last…

Time begins to flow anew.

“Hey now, awake alread-D-D-D-D-D-y? Go figure.”

The rapidfire barrage of glitchy reverb is interspersed between words that sound like they’re rattling within a box made of thin metallic sheets. The auditory concoction stampedes its way through the child’s hearing with all the grace of a bombardment and hurting twice as much.

It’s odd, though.

Common sense etched deep inside tells him that the optimal response should involve either lots of thrashing and screaming, or curling into a ball and quietly begging for it to end. There’s the fact that the neural pathways in charge of his muscles are currently fueled with a thick, uncrossable gel paste-like form of paralysis, but that’s not the whole of it. The pain is far from pleasant, yet it conveys a clear message - that he is alive, and not anywhere he would recognize. One of these two conclusions fills him with something akin to relief; the other, not so much.

It’s hard for the boy to decide which corresponds to which. He decides that, for the time being, a better way to keep busy what few of his brain cells are awake would be deciphering exactly what it is that he’s staring at.

Through the fog blanketing his vision, the child sees grey lips, framed by a shade of dull blue well on its way to fading into the latter color. The plated shape gives him the impression that it must be a helmet covering the rest of the stranger’s face, but the two halves hug each other so harmoniously to form a solid mass that he questions this interpretation, despite any other making little sense. He seeks answers in the single black strip cutting into the superior portion: the bright red dot swimming inside it, however, dumps only more questions onto a pile that has already grown rather healthy.

His eye begins to burn, reminding him of such a basic need as blinking that he’d seemingly forgotten in his stupor. The boy’s eyelid trembles: will it manage to arise once more, after it’s fallen? The darkness was daunting, but he felt safe within its embrace. It tasted different from the one he’s grown accustomed to - ah, hold on, that’s not quite right.

As more and more of his consciousness tears itself free from its sleepy cocoon, the child begins to make sense of his own thoughts. He understands that it’s not quite that his unconsciousness felt safe in and of itself - rather, it’s what he feels now, after he’s already gotten out of it. Knowledge informs his less rational side, rewriting his immediate past in light of the present. It’s the fact that he knows what comes after the darkness, that leads him to trust it for the first time his short, young life. And for how utterly fruitless his attempts at making heads or tails of his present predicament may be, he has no doubt that he prefers it to the routine that preceded it.

Lingering for a long, drawn-out second more on the thing that may or may not be a face, the boy tells himself that he has nothing to lose anyway. And in the simple act of blinking once, he perceives the rush of an emotion he’s never known he could harbor.

If he’d ever had any conception of it, the child could relish in his first taste of freedom.

“Do yourself a fa-A-A-A-A-A-vor and don’t move, will you?”

More words come out from a mouth that doesn’t move to spell them. The boy speaks his obedience with silent immobility: at the end of the day, old habits are too stubborn to lie down and let themselves die; he receives a nod for his effort, or lack thereof.

“Not that you can move an-N-N-N-N-yway.”

From the corner of his vision, the boy witnesses what seems to be a shoddy impression of a shrug from a pair of stiff shoulders that must have been made for anything but.

“Had to strap you good in case these aneS-S-S-S-S-thetics failed to do their job, and what do you kno-O-O-O-O-w? Never trust chemic-C-C-C-C-als a couple centuries past their expiration date, kid.”

Peeling off the various layers of noise and glitching haunting it, the voice digs out the impression that he’s been talked to by a woman, despite his eyes’ struggle to acquiesce with this conclusion. If what she’s wearing is a protective suit of sorts, it’s nothing like the ones he’s seen.

Panic threatens to seize him. Could they have transferred him to another research facility?

No! No!

He’d just begun to warm to the idea that perhaps, finally, it had all ended, but now that his lucidity has wrestled back control of his ability to process things properly, he wonders how he even came to that conclusion. His path had never, ever strayed from its repetitive course until that fateful day. Why, exactly, should he believe it to be the case now?

Foolish. Stupid stupid stupid! He dared dream for the first time ever, and he knows that all it did was set him up for greater anguish than he’s ever known. Because now, he has tasted hope. It’s far too late to retrieve the resignation that he cast away at a whim. He’s left himself vulnerable, discarded his fragile shell in the spur of a momentary madness. For all he knows, he’s left himself bare against a realm of suffering that could surpass anything he’s experienced. That is… that is…!

He wants to cry. To scream atop his lungs until his throat will have burned away along with what’s left of his sanity.

Burning…

His throat is burning. He feels a lump in it that has nothing to do with the one born from his desire to cry his heart out. The distraction is a tiny one, yet he clings to it as best he can, a minuscule island in an ocean of self-made terror. He notices now that the noise he was picking up while barely conscious is his own breathing. A ragged, drawn out sound like dusty wind sweeping off a gravelly path. The boy’s eye moves down on its own, seeking an explanation. It can only manage to pick up the vague shape of a cylindrical shape, jutting out of the edge where his pupil meets his lower lid. The woman bends aside so that her masked face can meet his gaze again, her head tilted even further to express what her “face” simply can’t.

“Yeah, that w-W-W-W-W-W-W-ould be the reason why you’re tied like a b-B-B-B-B-undle of rations. I can’t have you thrashing all ov-V-V-V-V-er the place with a tube sticking out of your throat… wait, hold on. Does it hurt? Those painkillers I stuffed you w-W-W-W-W-W-ith are three decades older than the anaesthetics.”

There’s a long, drawn out pause filled mostly with one-sided blinking, and little else.

“Oh! Right! Can’t move! Sorry, this one’s on me. hA-hA-hA-hA!”

For a moment, the boy thinks his… caretaker? Captor? Whoever that may be, the way her voice spazzes out at the end and her whole body shakes, it looks and sounds dangerously close to a seizure. It comes to an abrupt conclusion and a return to her very relative normality, which means… what exactly was that supposed to be?

“That’s a face you’re making there… well, half-F-F-F-F-F a face. Did I startle you, maybe? Sorry, faulty voice m-M-M-M-M-odule. Gave up trying to fix it a couple centuries ago, not worth the has-S-S-S-S-S-S-sle. You don’t find many conversational partn-N-N-N-N-N-ers around these parts, you know?”

He doesn’t, but then again it’s not like he can point that out.

“Anyway, anywa-A-A-A-A-A-y, I’ve just told the IV to inject you with another sleepytime cocktail, so sit tight and relax. You’re g-G-G-G-G-G-oing to be doing a lot of that, honestly, at least until I’m done downloading all this medical training software for the surgery.”

A metal-clad arm raises: at the end of it, fingers lightly curl around a wire that begins somewhere outside the boy’s scope, and ends in a rectangular protrusion connected to a similarly shaped hole in the side of the mysterious stranger’s neck. It makes about as much sense as anything else the child has learned about her, and he’s given up trying to put together all the clues he’s been given into a cohesive, discernible whole.

“I mean, a thracheos-S-S-S-S-S-tomy’s a piece of cake by itself. But anything beyond going stabby-stabby on your tr-R-R-R-R-R-R-achea is a tad more complicated than that. I haven’t half a clue what they’ve d-D-D-D-D-D-one to you up there in that big floaty world of theirs, but whatever it was, it made a mess of your throat. There was enough goop stuck in there I had to spend an hour drain-N-N-N-N-N-ing it to make sure you wouldn’t choke on it. I reckon that when my scanning module’s been updated, we’ll disc-C-C-C-C-C-over that the rest of your body’s even worse for the wear.”

Silence falls anew at the end of a series of informations that the boy tries to digest all at once. Half of his features are still perfectly usable, and could lend themselves to expressing what a metal visage cannot. But the child does not visibly react to the news given to him. His lips do not smile. His eye does nothing but look at the one speaking to him with a half-lidded stare, unsure of what to make of any of it, less of all his worry that this may be a prelude to a nightmare.

The boy is tired. He closes his eye, deciding to thrust himself to the darkness, and the infinitesimal chance of salvation hiding in it.

If he has any hope left in him now, it’s the old, familiar brand that cannot wait for his body to do away with itself.

Sensors that were state of the art back when they were made do their best to try and do what they weren’t built for. The staticity on the little human’s face brings up correspondences with old, untouched corners of her databases. Visual data from times long forgotten by those they begot, visions of broken husks of flesh and bone, deader than the corpses of their comrades. Some of those fallen to the very same iron-cast hands that have done their best to keep a lone boy from biting the bullet, based on what can only be defined a whim.

The automaton born of war kneels besides her guest, and wonders. She does so by sending microscopic sparks across a net of data swimming inside her artificial brain, in search of an act that no medicine or surgical procedure could emulate - a way to heal something other than a body.

Something comes up. A tiny possibility buried among billions of others, at the very edge of her range of intended abilities. Fragments of culture acquired for mere curiosity and to stave off whatever form of boredom a machine could even feel to begin with, knowledge thought obsolete until it came up in this very moment, suggesting a pattern that seems convincing enough to be put into tentative, awkward practice.

Thunk. Thunk.

The child raises his eyelid, startled. A gelid, hard sensation is spreading on his head, where his forehead gives way to his disheveled hairline, right next to where the chitinous substance has overtaken the rest of it.

His view is obscured by something. A shadow that robs his sight of light, only to let him seep through again, cyclically going through the motions while the sharp feeling becomes more defined against his skin. It’s only after the fifth time that the shadow finally relents and draws back enough for him to find its source, staring at him through a red, unblinking light.

“How is it? I’m not entirely confident since it’s my f-F-F-F-F-F-irst time, but apparently headpats are supposed to feel g-G-G-G-G-G-ood for young humans like you.”

Her hand approaches again, stopping short of reaching him. It reels back just enough that he can see the black band where her eye resides, and the mouth whose lips cannot flap, nor curl.

“You want me to stop?”

He hadn’t noticed it before, taken as he was with pretty much everything else assaulting his senses, but… there is something about this voice. Beyond the metallic-sounding raspiness, aside from the occasional slip into an ear-piercing torture, there is a tone about this voice that feels unmistakably reassuring.

It’s a rough, alien-feeling sort of softness.

The boy’s eye lingers on the hand hovering above him, shifting to the person staring back with what he decides must be expectation, then back to the hand.

The lid falls like a curtain, letting the centuries old anaesthetics do their job. If he wishes to protest, he doesn’t make the slightest attempt to show it.

As sleep beckons him back to its thoughtless cradle, the child hears it again. Thunk. Thunk. It’s cold, and hard, so much so that at the epicenter of it he can feel a sharp, prickly pain.

Yet somehow, he doesn’t mind.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Undercover (Alex x Reader)

Requested by: @fandomsinthegalaxies:In that case if you're open for some requests 💕 can you do one about Alex where she is an undercover guy so she can be in the army and becomes good friends with tommy, when they got inside the submarine looking boat they find out she's a woman which then later Alex develops a huge crush on her and is really protective over her and is willing to do anything to get her safe. Sorry for the long description. 😬

AN: I HIT 100 FOLLOWERS! THIS BLOG IS TWO WEEKS OLD THIS IS NUTS THANK YOU SO MUCH! I had a sugar mouse and I'm planning a few things in in celebration so you should check my updates page to see what's occurring (shameless plug but I'M SO HAPPY) 

  Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

 In the belly of the boat, Tommy, Alex and Y/N ate their jammy bread and slurped their tea. It was lukewarm at best but still they drank it. The rabble of the other soldiers grew to deafening proportions. After finishing her food and tying on her newly acquired life jacket, Y/N looked up at the door, where their other comrade had vanished.

 “What’s wrong with your friend?” Alex spoke through his food. Still a little sceptical of him, Y/N turned to Tommy for him to answer on her behalf. She’d been with him long enough for him to know she didn’t speak very often.

 Tommy watched the door to the hold close, taking another bite from his rations. His gaze swept the packed hull and the lack exits available to them. Feeling the unease settle in, Y/N wished she’d joined the other silent soldier in their troop outside.

 “Looking for a quick way out. In case we go down.” Y/N tugged on Tommy’s arm, nodding over at the stairwell that led to the hold’s door. When he didn’t understand, you bopped a thumb at it. Again, Tommy didn’t understand, neither did Alex. Sighing, she leant in, pulling Alex closer so he could hear, and whispered:

 “We should get close to the door in case we go down.” Her voice gave her away, high-pitched and soft. No matter how hard she’d try to train it to be deeper, it always came out the same. Y/N waited with baited breath to see their reactions.

 “Oh.” Tommy nodded, seemingly unaffected by your voice, and casually started moving over to the door. His walking was slow and deliberate, Alex tailing him. Y/N tried not to let her life-jacket bump into people, happy to have gotten away with not being exposed or rebuffed at her first sentence to her comrades.

 Tommy turned around once they were at the foot of the stairs, “So, when were you gonna tell me you’re a girl?” Fuck.

      Lucky for her, Y/N wasn’t exposed at the first opportunity. Probably because the first opportunity was attempting and thus nearly capsizing a rowboat after the ship she was on got torpedoed. Her identity was not one of the priorities.

 By the time they were back on the beach, the physical energy had drained from their bodies and the journey was already emotionally taxing. So as the rowboat was dragged away, the four collapsed on the sand, unaffected by the pools of water they were lying in as they rested their eyes in an attempt to sleep.

 Y/N however was having an internal conflict. She was tired and stupidly didn’t take the opportunity to piss whilst still in the water. So she could either conserve energy and just wet herself or get up and go to the dunes and possibly collapse on the way back. She’d been wearing these clothes for so long and they were already grotty as hell but she was not going to wet herself. Slyly, she stood up and started -

 Sitting up violently, Alex demanded, “Where are you going?”

 “I need to take a piss,” She pointed to the sand dunes with an expression of discomfort. So much for integrity.

 “Oh.” Alex went red at his outburst, his gaze dropping as you headed over to your “toilet”, your feet shuffling. He went back to his thoughts, which were occupied by the memory of you pulling him through the hull door and out of the sinking ship playing on a loop.  

 He didn’t know how long he was staring at the sky for but when he turned his head, Y/N was back next to him. Her head was lolling back with the lifejacket propping her up. Her eyes were closed. Her mouth was open and ghosting in the early morning air. The short hair suited her with the fringe framing her face.

 He opened his mouth, preparing for a real interesting and intellectually stimulating question to start up a conversation with.

 “Did you have a nice… piss?”

 Y/N looked at him with an expression that said “what the fuck man” then let out a croaky grunt, wheezing loudly as her head fell back again. Tommy and the silent soldier looked over at her little seizure with panic then it subsided into relief when they realised you were laughing.

 “I did. I had a great piss,” She laughed through her nose, little snorts breaking out into hollow coughs as she struggled to breathe. Once she’d caught it and calmed down, Y/N turned back to Alex, her cheeks and nose red with the cold.

 “God, I haven’t laughed in ages. Thanks, Alex.” She weakly slapped his arm, her eyes closing contentedly.

 “Why did you slap me?” Alex furrowed his eyebrows in a confused smile - her laughter was slightly contagious.

 “Isn’t that what men do? Slap each other as expressions of endearment?” She slapped him again, although it was more like her hand flopped against his arm and stayed there, no more energy to take it back. Alex shook his head but slapped her back anyway. Their arms remained outstretched to one another as they finally managed to pass out.

      “Weight! Do we need to lose weight?”

 The Seaman shrugged but understanding this version of the question, “Weight, yes.”

 “Somebody needs to get off.” Y/N’s head shot up from her section in the trawler. All of them stuck in this trawler and Alex had already been pacing about like a caged lion before the gunfire started. She was tired and trembling with the prospect of more bullets penetrating the hull of the ship but she had come too far to be forced off her only chance of escape.

 “Well volunteered,” one of the highlanders scoffed at him.

 “We don’t need a volunteer. I know someone who ought to get off...” Alex approached Y/N’s side of the trawler and she shrank away, waiting for him to root her out.

 “This one. He’s a German spy.”

 Confused, Y/N opened her eyes to see her silent comrade had become the target.

 “Don’t be daft,” Tommy leapt to his comrade’s defence.

 “He’s bloody Jerry,” Alex accused, “You might not’ve noticed that he hasn’t said a word, but I have. He doesn’t speak English - or if he does it’s with an accent thicker than sauerkraut sauce-”

 “You’re daft. Tell him.”

 “Yeah, tell me.”

 “What about that one? He ain’t spoken,” A highlander singled you out aiming his rifle at you but Alex promptly snatched it away.

 “I can vouch for… him. He spoke to me before we got here,” He turned the rifle onto the silent soldier who was now pressed up against the ladder in an attempt to get away from the accusations.

 “Tell me...” Alex prodded him in the chest with the muzzle of the rifle, hooking his dog tags onto the end so he could read them, “Gibson!”

 “Tell him, for God’s sake!” Tommy urged as Alex lifted the rifle to jab Gibson in the cheek.

 He burst out desperately, “FRANÇAIS! JE SUIS FRANÇAIS!”

 The silence that followed the revelation was broken by a burst of machine-gun fire. Y/N let out a strangled cry, her hands covering her head and ears. Things were fast going downhill.

 “A Frog. A bloody Frog. A cowardly little queue-jumping Frog...”

 “Alex, stop,” Y/N said softly, her hands still covering her head for protection but he didn’t hear her.

 “Who’s Gibson, eh? A naked dead Englishman lying out on that sand. Or did you at least have the decency to bury him?”

 “He did,” Tommy jumped to his friend’s assistance, “We helped him. I thought it was his mate.”

 “Maybe he killed him-” 

 “He didn’t kill him-”

 “How do we know?!”

 “How hard is it to find a dead Englishman on Dunkirk beach, for God’s sake?!” Tommy yelled, forgetting about the Germans doing target practise, “He didn’t kill anyone - he was looking for a way off the damned sand like the rest of us!”

 Another spray of gun fire spread across the hull of the trawler. Y/N ducked down, the shots dangerously close to her head which resulted in a ringing noise in her left ear. Water trickled down her back through one of the many holes, making her feel sick. She stood up, attempted to unblock the ear, her head spinning.

 “Hadn’t they had enough practice by now?!” The second highlander was shaking, the heat of the situation getting to him more obviously than some of the others.

 “They’re making sure she won’t float,” His mate responded, staring at the gathering puddle at the bottom of the trawler.

 As Y/N edged over to the group, the second highlander turned to the Seaman, “Will she still float?!”

 After assessing the leaks and unaffected by the mutiny occurring in front of him, the Seaman turned to the group, “Float, yes. With less weight, yes.”

 Alex turned back to Gibson who was only vaguely aware of what was happening, “And we know who’s getting off.”

 “Alex, stop,” Y/N tugged at his arm, finally coming to her friend's aid, “That’s enough.”

 He didn’t look at her, his elbow jerking back to shove her off and she flinched as he hissed, “We need someone to get off so the rest of us can live.”

 “He’s barely gonna make the difference!” She looked up at “Gibson” with the same fear etched on her face.

 “He’s a fucking Frog, he lied to us, he’s not meant to be here.”

 “He’s not the only one.”

 Stepping back from the ladder, Alex turned, pressed his face close to yours and whispered, “I’m doing this for you.” His voice was pleading, desperate for Y/N to be on his side, to see things his way. But she shook her head.

 “I don’t want this.”

 His hardened expression breaking, Alex’s grip on his rifle weakened as did his will. Then Gibson grabbed for the rifle.

     Y/N’s eyes shot open as the train lurched to a stop. The lights that lined the ceiling of the car blinked on and off with a distinct tink tink sound. The view from the window was a blank black canvas but leaning over the sleeping Alex, she could see a glowing red circle. They were at a crossing.

 She was glad. The rocking of the train car was only somewhat reminiscent of the boat but it was enough to make her feel sick.

 Slumping back into the chair, she saw Alex stir, his features mostly indistinguishable with all the grime on his face.

 “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

 “It’s ok.”

 The train started to move again, the chugging making her flinch. Leaning against Alex’s arm for support, Y/N sighed loudly, eyes screwed close.

 “I’m sorry about what happened.”

 Y/N wasn’t sure of what to say. She wanted to forgive him but she didn’t know how to phrase it or if she could. So she nodded in acknowledgement. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw he was looking down at her. His eyes were reminder of the sea – in colour and with the tears that were building - but for some reason she wasn’t disgusted by them like the other things. In fact, they calmed her.

 It became apparent to her that Alex was leaning down when he was inches away from kissing her.

 “Don’t.” Y/N shifted away, her head sticking out in the aisle to see if anyone was awake. It was just the two of them. Even those who had been shellshocked were now asleep.

 “I,” Alex’s voice broke so he cleared his throat, “I thought that you…”

 “It’s just everyone thinks I’m a man. Imagine if we were caught.”

 “Oh, right,” Alex looked down at the table, his jaw clenching. Y/N mulled over her response - something to soothe him or make him feel better.

 “Besides, I haven’t brushed my teeth in ages. It wouldn’t be pleasant for anyone.”

 They both let out a huffed breath as excuses for laughter. Y/N moved back next to him and offered half her blanket as she leant back onto his shoulder. Taking her up on her request, Alex tucked himself in with her on his side and they drifted off into hushed respite.

[ruginite]

Five chances missed (Verity)

Send “Five Times ______ed” for a Drabble of 5 different times our characters… did that.Status: Not Acceptin’

Sittin’ In A Tree

He doesn’t know why she’s crying, only that she is. And he wishes he could fix it. But while he could build her anything her heart desired he’s not so good at fixing emotions. Either way he climbs up into their tree. The one that sits at the back of the neighborhood, that no one really takes care of. Well didn’t before they came a long anyway. Granted it’s mostly V. He’s not so great with living things. 

He settles on the wooden planks they put in. Hands tucked between his knees. Waiting. He doesn’t know what to say. She’s tell him, or not tell him. It’s up to her. But eventually she leans on him. Eventually words come out, and some how or another his arm ends up around her shoulders.

Everyone at school hates her. Because everyone lies and she calls them out on it. She says. He wishes he could just hit them all. Beat them scared. Make them all leave her alone. He wishes he could say something that would make her happy. Something that would fix it. Tell her how wonderful she is. Tell her how beautiful she is. That she matters.That she means the world to him. That he’ll never lie to her. That none of them deserve her, that no one really does because she’s that good. But he’s always been terrible with words. So instead, it’s all twisted and reworked. Repackaged into something safe but truthful.

             “M’sorry, Lady Bug.”

Unasked Question

                       Will y'go t’Prom with me?

He’s been practicing it all week. Repeating it. Over and over. In his head, when he shold be paying mind to the teacher. Muttered between bites at dinner. Picking at his projects, in his room when no one can hear him. In front of the mirror. Over and over until he’s virtually breathing it. 

                      Will y'go t’Prom with me?

But Friday’s here and…he’s staring into the abyss of his locker. The words silent things on his lips. Over and over and over. Building up the courage in his chest. Until finally it can’t hold anymore and turns. Locker door falling shut. Steps taken down the hallway. Weaving through his peers. Eyes cast to the floor. Repeating. Repeating. Repeating. He can’t mess this up.

                    Will y'go t’Prom with me?

He rounds the corner. Gaze tracking up to find her in the crowd. But when he does, instead of his feet speeding up they stall out. The guy that hasn’t left her alone since the last football game is with her. Holding a ridiculous sign. 

              Will you go to Prom with me?

His heart sinks. Somewhere into the nether regions of the highschool basement. Where all the left overs and forgotten junk collect. Because she’s smiling. She’s smiling and she’s laughing, and he can feel her say yes as much as see her nod her head.

Heavy feet turn him. Carry him away out of sight. Never to be noticed, or known he was ever there. Already making excuses to himself. Like the fact it was a stupid idea. He can’t even dance, anyway.

Too Late 

He’s late. A crash on the bridge, and then sidewalk to sidewalk traffic afterward. He’d ditched his truck and run. Run until his lungs wanted to burst. Run until his legs were jelly. Fallen on a patch of ice. Nearly run over three different times. Missed the train and run to the next stop to catch it.

By the time he falls through the front doors there’s no air left in him. And he’s barely got enough wind to ask where Flight 233 bound for Washington is taking off. But he manages and takes off like a bullet again. With all the strength he doesn’t have. Because…Don’t go. What he should have said last night. But she’d been so excited, he hadn’t had the heart.

                       Last call: Flight 233 Seattle, Washington Now Boarding.

He all but stumbles around the corner. Gaze darting through the last few stragglers. No red head in sight. And he doubles over. Gasping for breaths that just won’t come. Before he’s shuffling almost painfully towards the glass. Forehead resting against it. Watching as the plane is taxied away. The words that were never said threatening to deafen him.

             Don’t go.

What He Meant To Say

         “I dont think s’workin’….”                  You gotta…Bazzy click the button that looks like a video camera.         “Oh….”                   There! Can you see me?         “Yeah…yea I can see ya.”                    Hi!         “Hey.”

They talk for hours. Or well Verity does. About everything. And he listens. Listens and picks an old radio someone in the neighborhood had thrown away. It’s only been a few weeks since she left, but it feels like years to him.

                 So what have you been up too?       “Trainin’…m’gonna be a bonified Avenger ya know.”                 How’s that going?       “Be goin’ great if Romanoff’d quit kickin’ m’ass.”There’s laughter. And he smiles. He misses that sound. And the courage he hasn’t had in years rises up in his chest. Has his mouth moving before he can stop it.

       “Hey V?”               Yea–oh wait hang on one sec–damn sorry I gotta go. My late class                 starts in like ten minutes. Loss track..oh but hey what’d you wanna tell me?      “….be careful k?”               Always, Bazzy. I’ll text you later.      “Yep.”

The call ends but he just sits there staring at her name on his other wise empty contact list. For how long he doesn’t know, but long enough for the words he didn’t say to settle back into the recesses of his mind. Tucked away like a secret. Because what they have is too much to risk.

What He Never Said

It’s mild out. A beautiful day. The perfect kind to sit and bullshit over coffee. And that stings. Makes his skin crawl, and his eyes burn. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. He’s been standing in the same spot for what feels like life times. Reading and re-reading and reading again. Over and over and over until they’re so well re-carved into his mind and heart they both rightly bleed ocean.

              Verity Avaline Willis                Beloved DaughterFists curl in his pockets. Tighten until they shake. And the words blur and bubble. He should have told her. He should have said it until he was blue in the face. Should have repeated it until she hit him or kissed him. Should have…so many times…should have. He blinks. Clearing away the tears he can’t shed. None of that. It’ll do no good. Never has and never will. And his back straightens a little. Shoulders square from their usual slouch. Because what the hell? He’s got nothing to lose now.

              “I—M’sorry, Lady Bug.”

He crouches then. Tucking a small stone into the earth by the headstone. Covering it again and packing it down. Before heavy feet turn him away. Shuffling steps carry him back into the fold of black suits and SUV. They’re taking him away. He won’t be able to visit, again. Not for a while. But at least they’d allowed him to say goodbye. In so much as one could say goodbye to someone dead and gone. 

It isn’t enough. It never will be. But he’s learned to live with less. And less is exactly how he will live. Because though she’d never known it, Verity Willis had been everything to her best friend. That had loved her more than anyone ever had. In the silence spaces, between thoughts he never voiced. Three little words tucked into the earth, to rest with her for as long as the stone it was engraved on would last.

             Iodine. Livermorium. Uranium. 

[bondedbrotherhood-blog]

Eruption

Written by @MurhderBDB and @TenaciousDoctor.

Jane:   *Layla helped me out by feeding Grahve.  That girl was a sweetheart.  I left the medical suite to check if V took care of Murh like I asked him to.  When I didn’t see Murh still lying in the tunnel, I assumed V did as I asked.

 I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell, and dialled Murh’s number.  The phone was answered with silence.  He knew it was me*  Murh?  *I started and when he didn’t say anything I continued*  If you ever pull that shit again, I will have you kicked out of the mansion.  You’re lucky I’m not doing that right now.  How dare you beat up that kid like that?!  Have you lost your mind?  What the hell is wrong with you?

 Murhder:   *The Scribe Virgin herself wouldn’t be able to stop me from beating that fucking kid and his fuck buddy Qhuinn into lawn dressing pulp.  After waking up in that fucking tunnel with the brother Vishous standing over me I swore I would kick their asses.  Talk about a fuckload of embarrassment.

 My phone vibrated in my pocket.  Oh what do you know.  It’s the bitch doc.  I slid the green phone along the screen but kept quiet.  Until…. Fucking bitch.*

 Who the fuck do you think you are?  You’re fucking everything that moves in this house and you’re asking me what’s wrong with me?  Go fuck yourself sweetheart.

*Jane started yelling again and I hung the phone up.  Like hell we’re gonna do this over the phone*

 Jane:   *The phone call ended while I was giving Murh a piece of my mind.  I let out a frustrating growl and shoved it back in my pocket.  Layla was still in the room with Grahve and I wanted to give them space to complete the feeding and give him some time to rest, and I needed to shower and calm my very strung out nerves.  Murh had a way of pulling my strings in the way that brought out the best and the worst in me.

 I headed for the bathroom and opened my locker to grab my personal items and fresh clothes before stepping into the shower and turning on the water*

 Murhder:   *My shitkickers thundered down the tunnel to announce my arrival.  Without bothering to knock I tried the handle on the door to the PT suite.  Locked.  Layla’s voice echoed with a “She’s not here” and I turned and headed down the tunnel*  JANE!  *Dark eyes scanned each room as I passed them.*  JANE!   

 I let out a deafening growl.  If My female was avoiding me there’s gonna be hell to fucking play.  My head moved from left to right on my shoulders as I contemplated where to go look for her.  It would be so much easier if she were a vampire female feeding from my vein.  I would know where she was all the time.  This ghost business is driving me up the fucking walls.*

 JANE!  Where the fuck are you?

 Jane:   *Warm water washed over my tired muscles and soothed my skin all the way down.   It was a much needed shower after a difficult few days.  Manny and I weren’t really talking after I told him about Murh, and that cut really deep.  I don’t even know what else I expected… What would my reaction have been if he did the same to me?  He was behaving rather admirably, considering….   And then the crap with Murh and Grahve.

 My relaxing shower was interrupted by a booming voice shouting my name.  Murhder.  God, no.  Not now.  Ignore him… he will go away…

 When he didn’t leave , but rather continued to blast out my name for the whole mansion to hear, I quickly stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body.  Taking a deep breath, I walked to the door and opened it*  I’m in here, and can you keep your goddamn voice down?!

 Murhder:   *I would rip this place apart to find her.  My hand clenched the door handle to the rat’s office when I heard Jane’s voice.   I pivoted around and stalked down the tunnel following her voice.

Fuck.

My female stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel.  A possessive growl echoed through the tunnel warning all males to keep their distance but the sound of mixed laughter and convos grew closer.  If I stayed out here I would go full on King Kong on their asses.  Jane was for MY eyes only when she looked like this.

I pushed the door open and pulled her in with me.  I came down here to confront her about her fucking around with the kid but to hell with that.  Now all I wanted was to fuck her until she couldn’t walk.*

*My voice dark and low.* Drop the towel leelan.

 Jane:   *Bloody Mary!!   When will this madness end?  I was livid.  I wanted to tell him to go to hell and stay there.  How dare he hurt Grahve the way he did.  I was about tell him when my body gave way as he stepped inside the bathroom.   My eyes taking in his massive form.  His muscled, chiselled body.  The dark brown hair that l wanted to twist my hands in.  The Brother was tall and huge, and his… My eyes scanned down to his waistline.  Gifted.. I knew that already.

 I was murderously angry with him a few minutes ago, but now I couldn’t even remember what about.

 Without a moment’s hesitation I dropped the towel and stepped forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and placing soft kisses along his jawline up to his ear.  Drawing a groan from him as I bit his earlobe*

 Lock the door, Murh.

 Murhder:   Fuck.

 *I willed the door lock into place and lifted my female up.  Her legs wrapping around my waist and her smooth pussy rubbing against my jeans.  I reached down and unzipped my jeans to free my cock.  Gripping Jane’s ass and lifting her to thrust my cock inside her.  The joining of our bodies was accompanied by a collective moan.  It felt good to be inside my female and from her reaction she felt it too.

 My female was light as a feather and it made what I had in mind so much easier.  My hands settled under her ass and lifted her in time with my thrusts.  Fucking her hard and smirking as soon as her pussy started clenching around my cock.  My female wasn’t a screamer but she wasn’t quiet either.  

 Her moans and pants echoed and bounced around the walls of the bathroom bringing me to my own release.  My cock jetting out ropes of warm cum into her cunt.* Leelan we’re gonna be in here for a long time.  I need more of you.

 Jane:   *What was my name?  What was I doing?  Everything faded, reality drifted away on a cloud of dread that would haunt me later.  My body moulded and moved with Murh’s every move.  He moved, I moved.  We were completely in sync.  His large, thick cock stretching me wide open to accommodate every inch of him.

 My head fell back as soon as he was inside me, and I heard myself moan, gasp, and almost worship as he started a rhythmic movement that increased in pace and very quickly brought us both to orgasm.  If anyone had been walking in the tunnels, they would hear the erotic sounds without a doubt.  We weren’t discreet.  I didn’t care.  At this point all I wanted was more.  More sex, more argument, more of this rollercoaster ride that took us to ultimate heights.

 When he spoke, I took a few seconds to comprehend what he was saying.  A small part of my mind tried to think clearly, but was overpowered by the part that got off on the high*  Yesss… please….

 Murhder:   *Music to my ears.  I walked us over to the bench in the middle of the bathroom and sat down.  My hands gripping her hips to move her but she was already moving.  Fuck.  She really did want this.

 I braced both my hands on either side of me behind my back and held on to the bench.  Giving my female the reigns to ride me at her own pace.  My eyes not leaving her face for a second.  Drinking her in and thanking the Scribe Virgin for this incredible female.  MINE.*

Ride me Jane.  Take what you need from me.

 Jane:     *We moved, and I held on to him as he led us to the bench, his cock growing inside me again.  I almost cursed as his hands left my body.  I wanted his hands all over me, all the time.   His words registered in a form of order, and my body responded with vigorous, raw, desire.  My hips moved as I straddled him, back and forth, up and down.   Smooth, but aggressive.  

I didn’t even feel like myself.  I felt like a whole different person.  The way I felt every time I was with Murh.  The old, responsible Jane was gone, and a sex greedy minx replaced her.  I moved faster and our moans grew louder, or was that just me making that animalistic sound?  The room faded to nothingness around us.  My core tingled and throbbed, and burned like it was being consumed by a volcanic eruption.

 My hands fisted in Murh’s hair and I let it all go.  The frustration, the anger, the responsibilities, the desire, the hidden needs.  Everything.

 I let it go and unleashed an earth shattering, body trembling, erotic eruption of an orgasm.  My walls clenching and milking another release from Murh.  Our grunts and …. my screaming blasting around us*

 Murhder:   *My female turned into a sex deviant.  Her body moved and pumped like she was on the good stuff.  And she was.  She was on me.  Riding my cock like a fire spitting dragon.  If my cock wasn’t broken after this it never would be.  Jane was riding me so fucking hard I had to open and close my eyes to make sure it was really her.*

 HOLY FUCK!  *My cock erupted and filled My female.  Jane’s orgasm took her to another level and I grabbed hold of her to keep her in place on my cock to prolong her release.  So much for thinking she wasn’t a screamer.  I could have sworn the glass shower doors were rattling and about to shatter.

 Jane collapsed against me and I wrapped my arms around her holding her until her breathing slowed and her body calmed its trembling.*

 You good leelan?

 Jane:   *When the final wave took me on a slow ride back to shore, I sagged against Murh’s chest and closed my eyes.  I felt completely relieved.  A welcome bliss.

A few silent minutes passed before Murh spoke, and I didn’t trust my voice not to tremble, so I nodded and laid my head on his shoulder.  Yes, I was better than good.  And from the smirk on his face, it was evident that he was well aware of that.

 I would get up if I could, but my legs were weak.  My whole body felt weak.  All I wanted to do was stay like this until I could lift my head without straining too much*

 Murhder:   *Jane’s answer came with a nod.  Taking a deep breath and tightening my arms around her I tipped her chin up to give her an intense kiss.

 My cock thickening inside My female.  My body still craving for more.*

 Leelan.

*My female needed a break even if I needed more of this.  I had been riding her hard these last couple of days and her body was exhausted.*

Let’s get you in the shower.

*Standing up I lifted her and slipped myself out of her wet sex.  Groaning at the sudden cold feeling.  Being inside her became my drug as much as it was hers.  I carried her to the shower and turned the water on.  Stepping inside and putting her down to lean against me as I started washing her hair and the rest of her body.

Once I had her out the shower and dressed I carried her down the tunnels and up into the mansion to my room determined to get her the rest she needed.*

  #Eruption   #BondedBrothers

[noxianwilled]

father's day would be worse because. well. her relationship with marcus is worse and she was that much more attached to him. and i'm thinking modern verse since idk if runeterra (and noxus specifically) would have an equivalent but at least in that context it gets better — because swain takes her in, and he's her dad, and he becomes the one this date is about c:

katarina legit would forget mother's day is a thing until someone says something about it and she has a moment of 'oh that exists i guess' and promptly moves on without a second thought. purposefully. she refuses to think about it so what it's just another day giving birth doesn't make anyone special you hear that mom