#it would help me get out of my room since ive p much been chained to my bed

[yutamayo]

So I just bought The Last of Us for PS4 (it's $10 rn) since I plan on playing it with my brother but he has a PS5 and that version is like $80 lol so just figured I'd maybe test the waters on my own with this one, see if getting the upgraded version is worth it.

I was hoping to start it tonight but my brain doesn't feel like experiencing new stuff rn so I might just get back into playing Heavy Rain, as I haven't touched that one for a long time

[hurting-fictional-people]

Okay guys, so I think I’m getting attached to these characters and might have more ideas for them... so please let me know if you’d be interested in seeing more?

CW: (putting them here because tumblr decided to be weird about my tags tonight) a whole lot of angst and betrayal, stabbed whumpee (recovering from it... kinda), collar and chains, IV mention. Please tell me if I missed something

Continued from here

tagging @thelazywitchphotographer and @swift-perseides

-

“You said you’d set Whumpee free if I gave you the information,” someone hisses somewhere above them.

The timbre of that voice is a familiar caress, soothing the uneasiness that threatened to take over as soon as consciousness approached. Still, there’s a sharp edge to it that propels Whumpee’s eyes to flutter open, even as it calms the fear.

“Can you prove it?” 

That’s the sound that truly awakens them. The sound they hoped never to hear again, that sends chills down their spine and makes them squint their eyes against the dim light and groggily look around.

“Can I p– you know you said it, Whumper. Stop fucking around,” Caretaker growls. “If you don’t want to let me go, then fine. Keep me here. Torture me if you will. But leave them alone.”

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Whumper sighs.

Someone towers over Whumpee, large shoulders they know better than their own stand by their bed, restraining their line of sight to the wall to their right and the one in front of their bed.

“I gave you what you wanted. Now let them go.”

Before they can think about it, before they can even truly remember where they are or why or with whom, their hand reaches out and touches the soft skin of Caretaker’s arm, making them stiffen and turn around with a furrowed brow over softening eyes.

“You’re awake.”

It’s the worry underneath the words that brings it all back. The betrayal months before, all the hurt and bitterness, and then those last hours – minutes? – with a hole in their abdomen silently draining their life away, suffocating in pain.

They pull their hand back.

“What happened?” Whumpee rasps out, only then noticing how dry their throat feels. 

They know what happened. Every second of it is etched on their mind forever, but the question still slips out, the need for reassurance bigger than anything else.

“I got you fixed,” Caretaker gives them a sad smile, “just like I promised I would.” 

“Actually, I got you fixed,” Whumper says, walking around Caretaker to stop in front of Whumpee’s bed. “You’re welcome.”

Whumpee’s eyes dart between the two of them, narrowing at the way Whumper’s gaze shines with something dark while Caretaker holds themself statue still. 

“How are you feeling, dear?” Whumper asks.

“Like I’ve been stabbed,” they grumble, frowning when Whumper chuckles. “Why am I not dead?” 

“Poor thing, you were really out of it, weren’t you?” Whumper smiles as they hold Whumpee’s ankle through the sheets and rub circles that would’ve been calming coming from anyone else. “Caretaker took the deal in the end. Almost too late, but my doctors are pretty good, so you should heal just fine. If given proper time, that is.”

“So, what now?” they ask, half wanting to just close their eyes and pretend to still be asleep. Their throat pleads for water, but they don’t want to ask either of them, so they just swallow saliva and pretend it helps.

“Well, that’s a question for Caretaker to answer,” Whumper says, turning toward the third person in the room, the one keeping disturbingly silent, arms crossed and jaw clenched. Probably regretting saving them in the first place.

But Caretaker doesn’t say anything. All they do is glare at Whumper from their spot beside Whumpee’s bed.

“What do you mean?” Whumpee asks after a few seconds, stifling a yawn, eyelids pleading to close.

“They mean that they have no word,” Caretaker snaps. “Whumper wants to make another bargain even though they never fulfilled the first one.”

“Fine. But why am I here?” Whumpee whispers, forcing their eyes to stay open long enough to hear the answer.

“Because you’re the bargaining chip, lovely,” Whumper smirks, squeezing Whumpee’s ankle until they gasp.

Whumpee’s heart drops to the floor, and then lower. 

Caretaker has saved them once, which was a miracle in itself. Expecting them to do it twice is just too much. 

“Can we discuss this later, since you don’t seem inclined to negotiate right now?” Caretaker nods toward the door. “Whumpee needs to rest.”

“I guess they will be needing their strength very soon if you don’t change your mind,” Whumper sighs, winking at Whumpee as they walk to the door. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now.”

The lock clicks behind them, but neither Caretaker nor Whumpee acknowledges it. They’re too busy staring at each other to do much else. 

Deep bags mar the skin under Caretaker’s eyes, just like it always happens when they don’t get enough sleep, and Whumpee hates themself for still remembering that.

“Why did you–“ save me, Whumpee tries to say, but their voice fails when a dry cough makes their chest heave and their wound hurt. 

Caretaker is immediately leaning close, one hand splayed on their back and the other on their tight, each touch raising goosebumps along their skin. “W-water,” they rasp, closing their eyes at the humiliation.

But Caretaker doesn’t seem to notice how defeated Whumpee’s eyes are, how their cheeks burn red for having to ask them for something so simple. They simply grab a plastic water bottle from the bedside table and hand it to Whumpee. They gulp down the entire thing.

“How are you feeling?” Caretaker asks once they sag back on the mattress.

“Like shit.”

It’s true, but the irritated tone is nothing but a defense mechanism, and they fear as much as they hope that Caretaker notices it. 

The pain is a constant weight in Whumpee’s stomach, and the medication slowly dripping into their veins through an IV makes them nauseous and sleepy, but none of it makes Whumpee any less confused or sad whenever they look at Caretaker.

Why did Caretaker save them? A blurry memory tickles their brain, of sobs that didn’t come from their lips, of trembling hands holding theirs, warm lips kissing their forehead when they couldn’t convince their eyes to stay open anymore. It dissolves before they can grasp it, leaving only an empty feeling behind.

“You should sleep,” Caretaker says when the silence grows uncomfortable.

“Are you regretting saving me already?” Whumpee whispers, averting their gaze.

“What? No.” It sounds so real they almost believe it. They want to, so badly, but they’d already made the mistake of trusting Caretaker once before. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

There’s a hurt edge to their voice that makes Whumpee’s eyebrows rise as they look Caretaker straight in the eye. “Tell you what?”

“What Whumper did. That you were bleeding out.”

Oh.

“You could’ve died, Whumpee. You almost did. If you had just told me they had stabbed you, it would never have gotten to that point.”

“Why do you sound so angry? You’re the one who taught me not to trust anyone. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you but I’d do it again’, remember? You are the one who said those words. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it would matter.”

Caretaker furrows their brows, opens their mouth, and turns around. Before they do, though, Whumpee catches the flash of pain and sadness crossing their eyes and pretends not to notice the glint of tears there.

The seconds tick by, and as the silence extends, pain and exertion make Whumpee’s eyes take longer and longer to open each time they blink. They are almost asleep when Caretaker’s voice sounds again.

“It’s not true, you know. It would’ve mattered. It’ll always matter when it comes to you.”

But Whumpee is already dreaming once they stop talking.

-

“So, have you made your choice?” Whumper asks from behind a ridiculously large desk. Caretaker folds their arms and doesn’t fight the will to bare their teeth. “We’ve talked through it already, Caretaker. It won’t even be any sort of bother, you just have to go in, pretend I let you free, and come back with the drive I gave you.”

“You and I both know it’s not that simple. You want me to infiltrate my own team, lie to their faces, and hand our biggest enemy a drive filled with classified information,” they bite back, hands curling into fists.

“Well, you can always say no,” Whumper leans back in their chair and grins. “You know I’ll even let you walk out if you do. And then I’ll have a pretty little pet to play with. The only downside is that dear Whumpee won’t last very long as my plaything with that wound of theirs.”

The words might as well be a blade sinking into their heart. And Whumper knows it, relishes the knowledge, laughing when Caretaker holds their breath.

It’s been three days since Whumpee’s woken up. Three days of poorly hiding the desperate need to be by their side, to make sure nothing would ever hurt them again. Three days of knowing that each small noise of pain Whumpee lets out, each hazy look they get whenever Caretaker says something kind or offers help, each distrustful glance, it’s all Caretaker’s fault.

Whumper doesn’t even bother hiding how much pleasure they take from locking Caretaker up until they can’t help but bang on the door and beg to see Whumpee. And when they do, it’s only to be hit by a new wave of pain breaking against their heart, flooding their veins with sorrow every time their eyes meet. 

“Don’t fucking touch them,” Caretaker spits out, taking a step forward before they can stop themself.

“Is that a ‘yes Whumper, I agree with your terms’ I’m hearing, dear?”

“How can I trust you won’t hurt them while I’m gone?”

Whumper’s lips tug upwards, growing into a mocking, open smile. “You can’t. And I won’t even bother promising I won’t. So if I were you, I’d hurry up, because each second you try to stall me makes me even more excited to play with little Whumpee, and I don’t think they’ll appreciate my games as much as I will.”

It’s almost funny how a handful of words is capable of completely shattering someone’s heart, of stealing the ground from under their feet and filling them with dread all at once. 

“Don’t you dare touch them,” Caretaker says, but it’s scared and quivery and both of them notice. “How the fuck do you expect me to leave with you saying you’ll hurt Whumpee?”

“Do they know how much you care about them?” Whumper muses, getting up and sauntering around the table. “Because I remember rather clearly Whumpee telling me you’d sooner offer them ruin than help.”

“What do you care?” they say through clenched teeth.

“It’s just intriguing how desperate you are to keep them safe and how oblivious they are of it. What did you do to make them so distrustful of you?”

Tore their heart apart with my bare hands. The answer comes to their mind unbidden, bringing a sharp twist of pain along with it. They can still see Whumpee’s shocked face, tears streaming down their cheeks, eyes desperately searching theirs for an excuse that wasn’t there for a treason they had no way to deny, no matter how much they wished to. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I did it for the greater good, and I’d do it again, Caretaker had said with all the pride and coldness a soldier could master. 

They had kept their own tears for later, when no one could see them shatter.

“Is your life so miserable you have to feed off of someone else’s or are you just a nosy bastard?”

Whumper laughs, and they wish they could punch that laugh out of that smug face. “I’ll give you the details now and you’ll leave tomorrow. And just because of the insult you won’t get to say goodbye to Whumpee.”

Caretaker glares in response but doesn’t argue. They don’t deserve to be near Whumpee, not after everything, and are pretty sure Whumpee wouldn’t want it either. Besides, the simple thought of seeing the face they love so fiercely fill with suspicion each time Caretaker opens their mouth makes them want to weep. 

Still, as long as they are alive to do so, Caretaker will gladly take the suspicion and anything else Whumpee throws at them. They deserve far worse anyway.

-

Each breath Whumpee takes hurts, and they are about to start crying out of frustration when the door opens. They don’t dare recognize the sharp tug of disappointment in their heart when the face that appears isn’t Caretaker’s.

“Good morning, love, how’s that wound?”, Whumper asks.

“Fine.” There’s an air of amusement around them that makes Whumpee shiver, even if they don’t know exactly why. “Where’s Caretaker?”

It leaves their lips before it hits their brain, and Whumpee has to bite their tongue to avoid slapping their forehead for it. Stupid. Caretaker shouldn’t mean anything to them anymore.

“Oh, dear. You still care about them, don’t you?”

Whumpee doesn’t even open their mouth, not when the answer they can voice would be a blatant lie and they’d both know it.

“It’s really unfortunate to have feelings for someone who doesn’t reciprocate them, isn’t it?” Whumper says, drinking in the slight frown between Whumpee’s brows, the way they look away to hide how much the words hurt them. 

Before the wave of bitterness can crash over Whumpee, Whumper nods to someone outside the room and two guards step inside. 

Their heart starts to pound, thrumming louder at each step the men take toward them.

“What, what’s going on?”

“We’re going somewhere else today, love. I assumed you needed the help to walk.”

They are shaking their head before Whumper even finishes the sentence. With a smile stretching across their face, they raise their brows, as if inviting Whumpee to do it themself.

They know what’s going to happen even before it does, and by the glee on Whumper’s face they do too, but Whumpee still kicks the thin blanket away and gets up on wobbly legs before taking two steps forward. On the third, the pain becomes unbearable. On the fourth, they can’t help but hold their injury and hunch their shoulders. Whumper watches them with mock concern as Whumpee stumbles out of the room. When they finally fall to their knees two steps later, Whumper simply tuts from their spot against the door.

“I guess you did need the help, huh?” they say, and Whumpee catches only a glance of their smile as they wave for the guards. 

Two pairs of hands grab Whumpee’s arms and pull them up, and they can’t hold back a scream when it makes their entire abdomen explode in pain. 

They are hauled over countless hallways, into a room made of concrete walls and nothing more, barely big enough for all of them.

“Please,” they breathe. “What are you doing? What about your deal with Caretaker?”

“Caretaker left, Whumpee.”

It’s the softness in their voice that makes Whumpee’s head turn to them, all wide eyes and parted lips. 

“The bargain we told you about was for them to either betray their team and keep you safe or go away and leave you behind. They made their choice.”

Whumpee can only stare at Whumper’s sympathetic smile. The words take a while to truly sink in, and when they do, all Whumpee does is take a deep breath. 

They’d been expecting this all along, they tell themself. They knew they couldn’t trust Caretaker, knew they’d never come first. They know it, they do. But then why does it hurt so much?

“And you see, Caretaker’s leaving made me kind of mad,” Whumper says as Whumpee is dumped on the cell’s cold floor, falling on all fours. “Betrayals make me bloodthirsty, I’m sure you’ll understand. And since you’re mine now, how can I resist it?”

Whumpee’s mouth dries at that. Terror shoots through their veins at the same time sadness tightens their heart.

The two men who’d carried them there take a step forward at the words and grab chains from a hook behind the door they hadn’t noticed before. As the chains are hung on metal loops attached to the wall, Whumpee realizes how wrong they’d been. The cell walls aren’t completely barren after all.

And when the guards crouch down in front of them, Whumpee can barely find strength through the panic and the pain radiating from their stomach to fight. 

They do, though. Even when it burns and sends waves of dizziness down their body, Whumpee thrashes in hands that don’t budge, jerks against grips that only tighten. 

But none of it matters when metal cuffs lock around both their wrists, nor when the chain is shortened until their arms are pulled straight above their head, back touching the wall. At least they are still sitting. Not that they could get up if they wanted to.

“Whumper, pl–“

But it isn’t over yet, they realize when another shiny gray circle approaches. Whumpee lets out a choked whine, but it’s all they can do before the collar closes around their throat and locks their neck to the wall as well. An uninvited sob escapes their lips, and there’s nothing they can do to stop it either.

“You look beautiful in chains, love,” Whumper says from the door, grinning with sadistic satisfaction at Whumpee’s weakness.

Humiliation tinges their cheeks red when Whumper’s gaze travels up and down their body. Chained, collared, like a dog, unable to do more than wiggle their arms and weakly kick their legs.

“Why are you doing this?” Whumpee asks, voice airy and desperate, searching for an explanation they know isn’t there.

“Because I wanted to. Because it brings me joy to see you struggle. I wouldn’t keep thrashing like that, though, you’ll wear yourself out very quickly with that unfortunate wound of yours, and we don’t want this to end too soon, do we?”

They leave the cell with a giggle and a wave of goodbye, and when the door doesn’t lock behind them, Whumpee almost chokes on a bitter laugh.

The cell is big enough for them to lie down straight if the chains weren’t keeping them tightly tied to the wall. But as time goes by, it seems to get smaller and smaller, closing in on them with each ragged breath Whumpee takes. The chains clink together as they squirm, but there’s no give. Their wound hurts through it all, burning with each movement, but stopping feels like giving up and if they do, then what? 

No one knows where they are but Caretaker and they’ve already made it clear they won’t help. They’ve already given up on Whumpee, left them once again.

No one cares. There is no saving this time. 

Whumpee chokes on rage and grief as tears stream down their cheeks, for a love that should never have been born, for the heart that has been broken in so many pieces they don’t know how it can still find strength enough to keep beating in their chest.

Whumpee stares at the gray walls and feels a scream building, and there’s no one there to stop it from bursting out, containing all of their anger and sadness and betrayal and spilling it over to the world. But even though it’s left their chest, the cry keeps echoing, bouncing around the walls, and none of the feelings are gone. They are all still there, still boiling inside of Whumpee.

So Whumpee sobs and pulls at the chains until their wrists are raw and bleeding, and don’t stop until both their strength and their voice are gone and there’s nothing else to do but sag on the chains. 

-

Caretaker is in the elevator when the phone Whumper’s given them buzzes. Seven floors to go before they have to face their team. A few seconds before they have to betray the people who are nothing less than their family.

Even so, it’s not that thought that sends a shiver down their spine. 

No one but Whumper has that number. The phone was given to them with specific instructions to be used solely to communicate with them. It’s Whumpee’s wide eyes that shine in their mind when Caretaker unlocks the phone, and it’s the memory of their smile that makes Caretaker’s heart race as they stare at the text and the video attached to it.

Got bored. You better hurry up.

Their hand trembles as they click on the video and Whumpee’s thin figure fills the screen, arms chained above their head, legs loose on the ground in front of them. Their eyes are closed, and for an instant, Caretaker’s heart stops in fear. But then Whumpee’s head starts to loll forward before being violently pulled back, and at the same time relief makes Caretaker suck in a sharp breath, the thing shining around Whumpee’s neck makes their heart sink through the floor. 

The collar surrounds the soft skin Caretaker’s tasted more than once, marring the perfect curve of their throat. When it yanks their head back, it hits the wall behind them and their eyes snap open. Whumpee stares at the ceiling for a moment before their mouth opens in a scream Caretaker feels in their soul, even if they can’t hear it. They feel it with their whole heart, and when Whumpee starts pulling against the chains, Caretaker thinks they’ll puke.

The video ends with them panting silently through the soundless video, the glint of tears wetting their cheeks. 

And then the elevator stops, and Caretaker barely has two seconds to wipe away their own tears before the doors open. 

When their teammates run toward them, none of them sees the way their eyes shine for the dread it is. 

As they smile and let lie after lie slip through their teeth, the only thing resounding in their mind is Whumpee’s silent screams. And as they deceive and betray, no one seems to notice the way their hands tremble or how they can’t convince their lips to smile no matter how happy they should’ve been to be back with the team. Not when the ten seconds keep playing over and over again inside their mind.

(next)

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Whumptober Day 11: Defiance

CW: Creepy/intimate whumper, captivity, references to pregnancy, conditioning, restraints

(See the Fillis Angst Parade AU that I wrote with @whump-tr0pes for context on why Daniel Michaelson’s father is doing all these mean spicy things to Finn Dunham. As always, I am immensely grateful for Athena letting me be mean to her OCs!)

This takes place before Finn agrees to be Patrick’s plaything and during Ellis’s pregnancy.

Finn knows when the man of the house is home, because someone will hear the sound of the car in the driveway, engine rumbling like some terrifyingly large contented cat, and everyone suddenly tenses up. Finn watches from their place polishing pristine antique silver with narrowed eyes as the household staff around them suddenly goes backs straight, chin up, working hard. 

Finn might, too, if they were a paid servant and not a fucking prisoner. They don't bother to change a damn thing about how they stand. If anything, they let their shoulders hunch even more, slouching with obvious purposeful anger. They let their teeth grind together against the feeling of the cool metal shackle welded onto one ankle, the scrape of the heavy chain that connects it to a hook in the wall. 

There are hooks in all the walls in every room here. Not that Finn’s seen much more than kitchen, formal dining room, casual dining room, and one of their living rooms. One. Of five. Finn has provided medical services to families with children who had to live in fucking clapboard shacks but oh, the Michaelson group has five separate living rooms in one single house. And they have multiple houses.

There’s a beach house, they’ve been told, where they could be sent if they need to be even more alone. They know what that means… it means further from Ellis, who they haven’t seen since they were captured. It means further from any chance of… of anything. 

There’s this house, and a beach house. There’s a third house in a neutral territory they use for business negotiations. There’s a fourth - a fourth goddamn house - somewhere deep in the northern woods. Deep in anti-Syndicate territory. 

Corrine Michaelson had laughed when she showed them where it was on a map, her fingers curved over their shoulders like claws. Like a bear trap, she’d murmured, as Finn’s stomach dropped. We close on your kind from both sides, when we want to. 

Why are you showing me this? They had known the answer. Weren’t even sure why they’d asked.

Sure enough, Corrine’s sharp red fingernails had dug into the nape of Finn’s neck as she answered, because you’re never getting out of here alive to tell anyone.

So, four houses. And of course, there’s the ‘small’ summer estate where Daniel Michaelson lives, separate from his family, but close enough to be controlled.

All this space, and Finn has seen so little of it. They saw more of Danny’s house in three days than they’ve seen of the Michaelson’s mansion in… they don’t even know how long they’ve been here.

They hate the Syndicates more every single time they have to dust the same damn side table, make careful note of all the hooks in the walls, the ceiling, the subtle ones that you could bring up out of the floor.

They lost count after eighty-seven hooks and they haven't even been allowed in a third of the immensity of this house. And they're not counting the basement, with entirely different hooks that aren’t just made for connecting chains and restraining… prisoners? Playthings? What even do the Michaelsons do with all those hooks?

They know what Corrinne does with the hooks in the basement, at least. They’ve had to try and save people after she uses them, sewing up injuries and feeding IVs with the woman breathing down their neck and counting the seconds, killing anyone they can’t save before the arbitrary time limit is up.

Finn is becoming better at emergency triage every day, and feels all the lives they couldn’t stabilize fast enough weighing on their back, staring back at them through the silver they polish during the day. 

They’re trapped in a mansion built by monsters, and they have absolutely no idea how they will ever get out.

The ankle cuff seems ridiculous. Finn’s not going anywhere - not while Ellis is here, somewhere upstairs where they can’t get to them. But the Michaelson family sure as fuck doesn’t take any chances. Finn hasn’t even seen Danny - not in the entire time they’ve been held here, not since they’d escaped, before they’d stumbled into a Michaelson trap and… 

“Oh, here’s an interesting scent.” Fingernails scraped over Ellis’s stomach, like claws that didn’t quite break the skin, as Ellis thrashed and kicked and spat curses right back in Corrine Michaelson’s face.

Only Ellis and Finn had been flat-out captured - bad fucking luck, but Ellis had been sick for days and Finn had taken their eyes off the road at just the wrong second. They’d swerved, lost control on the gravel that ran along the shoulder of the road, went into a ditch. There’d barely been time to get Sam and Isaac piled into the other car with the others, and Finn and Ellis had ended up surrounded while the team got clean away. 

They’d been certain they’d just be tortured for information, Finn forced to their knees on the ground with cold metal pressed against the back of their head and Ellis held by Michaelson syndicate scum like a ragdoll until Corrine’s chin had raised. Finn had been so sure the next thing they’d see was a Syndicate holding block, and the last thing they’d see would be their own blood on the floor.

It was only later, in retrospect, that Finn realized the Michaelson matriarch, rather than taking the time to think over how to kill them, was scenting the air like a fucking wolf smelling prey.

“Patrick, love, come over here and tell me if this is what I think this is.” Corrine’s hand had pressed flat to Ellis’s stomach.

Ellis, pale in the darkness, had spat in her face. Corrine’s lips pressed together into a thin line, sparking disgust as she wiped the spittle from her cheek.

“What is it, darling?” Patrick had circled around behind, and Finn had struggled and kicked and fought and cursed but it hadn’t done them any good. They’d had to watch as Ellis was held still so Patrick could lay his hand just below his wife’s, touching Ellis like they weren’t a person at all.

Patrick’s teeth had flashed bright white in the dim evening light. “Oh, Corrine, congratulations are in order,” He’d said, with pure gentleness and joy. “This little rebel is with child.” His eyes had been dancing, sparkling even, as he turned to look down at Finn. “Yours, I presume?”

“Go to hell,” Finn had snarled, heart pounding. “Get your fucking hands off of them!”

“So yes, then.” Patrick looked at Finn, lingering a little over the lines of their face, in a way that made Finn’s skin crawl. “Lucky you. And lucky them, to get to bed you.”

“Fuck off.” Finn’s stomach had dropped to somewhere near their knees at the interest, the fascination, thick in Patrick Michaelson’s voice.

Corrine ignored the exchange, smiling back at her husband. She would have looked beatific and saintly if it weren’t for the bloodlust raging in her eyes. “How wonderful, Patrick. You know what this means…”

Patrick sighed happily. “I do, darling, and it’s wonderful. We’re going to have a baby.”

Finn hadn’t quite understood, at first. Not until they saw the blood drain from Ellis’s face. “Over m-my dead body,” they whispered, and Corrine Michaelson laughed. 

“Yes, silly mother, that would be the plan.” She snapped her fingers and pointed at Ellis, turning to look at the guards who had circled around them. Too many guards, too many guns, no escape.

“Put that one with my things,” Corrine said smoothly. Her eyes scanned over Finn, then. “What about this one, love? Kill it? I don’t need it.”

Someone handed Corrine Michaelson a handgun - they couldn’t see who - and she pressed the cool barrel against the center of Finn’s forehead. Finn had felt the first real panic, then. Their life meant so fucking little to her. They would die without ever meeting their child, wouldn’t be there for Ellis, who would go through… whatever Corrine Michaelson had planned… alone.

Patrick looked over just in time for Finn to whisper, “P-please, no,” just in time to see the tears in their eyes.

Patrick’s breath caught, and then he had flashed that brilliant, charming smile again. “No, I don’t think so, darling. I’d hate to waste that body on an early grave, wouldn’t you?”

Corrine’s head tilted, scenting Finn, staring down at them with cold eyes. Between the chill of Corrine’s appraisal and the heat in Patrick’s gaze, Finn cringed back. Patrick’s eyes only burned brighter. “Look at you, you pretty thing… No, I’d like to get a closer look...” 

Corrine pulled back the gun and Finn let out an involuntary sob of relief. 

“I love you,” Ellis said, intensity in their dark eyes as Finn looked up. “No matter what happens, Finn, I love you, okay?”

“I love you, too.” Finn had struggled to their feet only to feel a blow against the back of their head that sent them sprawling, insensible, back to the ground.

Finn’s eyes had closed to the sound of Ellis screaming their name.

Their eyes had opened to a basement prison cell, and Ellis nowhere to be seen. 

Now, they clean silverware on the ground floor of a sprawling mansion knowing Ellis is somewhere so close - just upstairs, just up the stairs and down the hall - and yet impossibly distant, thanks to the chain on their ankle, the locked door.

Does Ellis still scream for them, wherever they are? And Finn just can’t hear it? Are the bedrooms soundproofed?

Finn lives a life of constant neverending adrenaline and tension. They are woken before dawn to help prepare breakfast, kept on their feet through the day without breaks, either taken downstairs to administer medical aid to prisoners or up here cleaning and cleaning and fucking cleaning. The exhaustion -  mental and physical - makes them sleep dreamlessly like a corpse, every single night when they’re locked into their tiny room. They are the only ‘servant’, so far as they can tell, who isn’t a paid employee.

The only slave, if they’re honest. Or hostage. But you can’t be a hostage if there’s no one to make demands, to, right? No one is here to save Finn, or to bargain for them. No one but Patrick Michaelson, whose eyes follow Finn through every room like slime running down their back, like a hand between their legs.

For the first couple of months, Finn had wondered if they’d be brought to the basement one day only to see their team - Isaac and the rest - held in the cells, for Finn to fix and fix and fix until they can’t be fixed anymore. But there’s no one.

Every day, the balance between relief that the team hasn’t been captured and a horrified understanding that no one is coming to save them gets a little more one-sided.

The other servants are all paid, and come and go between work and home, and Finn… Finn isn’t like the rest of them at all. When Patrick and Corrine Michaelson are not at home, the staff is relaxed, casual, joking and chatting with each other as the day’s work gets done. They don’t talk to Finn - they’ve all been told not so, although no one will admit it. 

Finn is sure it’s purposeful - an isolation tactic with some larger purpose meant to wear them down. 

Joke’s on you, assholes, Finn thinks, working the special cloth deep into the grooves of the silver until even the barest hint of tarnish is gone. I don’t want to talk to any Syndicate trash in this house anyway. 

They’re just fine being alone with their thoughts. Alone, it’s easier to stay clear and hold themself together. Alone, they can try to keep planning for some nebulous future escape, one that comes alongside the partner they know is here, somewhere, but aren’t allowed to see. No, Finn wakes up alone each morning in a back room behind the kitchens on a narrow cot with a single lumpy pillow and a thin blanket. 

They eat what they’re given, when they are led out into the kitchens to start their workday - usually some kind of oatmeal porridge, every once in a while an egg or something - and the day is full of chore after chore after chore. At first they fought, and spent whole days in that single dark little room on the cot. 

Five steps to one wall, four to the other, just a cot, a toilet, a sink, and dull brick walls. They lasted two weeks, maybe, that way. 

Maybe less. Hard to tell.

That had lasted until the screaming from the basement, and Corrine coming to Finn’s room to flatly state they could help her provide medical care to the rebels down below, or allow them to die, and it would be on Finn’s head if they did.

They gave up the fight, then. Now, they take the chores, because at least it lets them see something other than bare walls and the stupid fucking kids’ TV show pillowcase they have on their stupid fucking captivity pillow. They are taken down to the basement at least once a week to give first aid to tortured prisoners who will probably never see the outside of that basement again, but at least the prisoners talk to them. 

They’d never forgive themselves if they let them simply die, if there’s even a chance some of them might be rescued. They never recognize anyone - the Michaelson territory has its own anti-Syndicate groups fighting for a better world. Finn is starting to doubt that a better world is even remotely possible, but that might just be the constant captivity and isolation talking.

Ellis is upstairs, and their stomach must be starting to round out by now. Has it been four months? Less? Maybe more and they’re five or even six months along? Finn’s heart twists at the knowledge that they’re missing the changes, that Ellis must live through them all alone, wherever they’re held. Ellis feels the baby’s kicks all alone, will go through each checkup with the doctor the Michaelsons keep on-call alone, will give birth alone, alone alone alone.

Finn, meanwhile, will continue to work, and eat, and sleep, and scream... alone. 

They’re not even sure if Ellis knows they’re still alive.

One of the servants gave Finn copies of some of the sonogram photos from the last checkup - Finn sometimes sees the doctor having the machine brought into the house, and it hurts not to know what they’re saying to Ellis, not to be able to sit there and hold their hand.

They’d had these stupid… ideas, about how this might work. About sitting next to Ellis in an office, holding their hand, the two of them meeting eyes and smiling and saying to each other, the baby looks like you, or maybe just the baby looks like a smashed grape with fingerprints, or…

No. Whatever those appointments look like, they happen somewhere upstairs, and Ellis stares down the Michaelsons and the doctor perfectly fucking alone.

Patrick and Corrine never tell Finn a fucking thing.

But… but at least someone here has a fucking heart. One old servant, been with the family for years, she says, who brings Finn sonogram photos printed in secret. They’ve hidden those photos under the cot’s thin sheets, slipped between them and the plasticky mattress. A suggestion of light and shadow, barely human in shape but still Finn had known the moment they saw exactly what they were looking at. 

The baby - their baby - looked more like some strange child’s drawing of a frog or a teddy bear than it did a developing human. But the servant had known how to show it all to them, had pointed to each shadow one by one and explained what it meant.

“And this,” she’d said, taking Finn’s hand and folding their fingers so only the index finger remained, pressing Finn’s own touch to a series of small light spots that seemed to sort of line up, “is the spine. Just how it should be. Straight as an arrow.” 

She’d moved on to the next photo, the next. Naming them all. Heart. Kidneys. Fingers. Toes. Given Finn an impish smile when she noted that the baby was a girl.

“You can see the little nose, if you look just right at this one…” 

It was the nose that broke Finn. 

The baby, the one that grows inside the love of their life and the one that will be raised to believe her kidnappers are her family, has Ellis’s nose. The profile was unmistakable. Finn had had to send the servant away then.

They had cried, curled up on their cot clutching the photos of the tiny life that they had helped to create and might never know, for hours. Until the pillow was damp, until they felt emptied and wrung out, until they had no tears left. And then, because hell doesn’t give a shit if you need a good cry, they had gotten up the next day right on time to be put to work again. 

Now Finn stands, watching the servants scatter to their places as the head of the household servants calls out that Patrick is home. 

Finn holds a single spoon up - the silver shines so well they can nearly see their own face reflected in it like a funhouse mirror. Stretched out around the edges, blurred, just a smudge of skin tone and shadowy eyes. They might need a haircut. 

Funny how it doesn't matter one solitary bit if they get one. No one they care about is ever going to see them to notice. 

The team must be far away, by now - if it’s been months with no rescue, they must have understood there wasn’t any way to get Finn or Ellis out of this. Not this time. Maybe they’ll link up with another team, come back with stronger numbers. Maybe not.

Somehow, Finn doesn’t think they’ll stop trying. They’ve just started to doubt whether or not it’s possible. 

Finn's hint of a smile is bitter and bleak as they listen to the sound of the front door opening and closing, the booming, lilting Irish brogue of Patrick Michaelson ringing through the entryway, echoing down the hall, straight to the formal dining room where Finn has been chained for polishing duty. 

"Dinner menu, Mrs. Verona?" Patrick asks, not yet visible to Finn but his voice seems close. Just on the other side of the wall. It’s strange and something Finn can’t quite understand, but there’s an odd warmth that curls inside them whenever they hear his voice. They get the feeling that they understand what it means to be a moth and see a light shining through a window. "Corrine will be taking hers in the basement tonight." 

Finn's lips thin. They’ll be dragged down with a first aid kit later, then. Lovely. High Queen Bitchison McBitch the First will be dining in the torture chamber, how fucking classy. 

"Tonight is smoked oyster for the first course…" 

Finn tunes it out after that. It doesn't matter what comes after the oysters, what the second or third course is. It doesn't matter. 

Finn is going to be fed what they are always given for dinner. They’ll be handed a bowl full of whatever is scraped off of the fucking bastard's plate - or his monster wife's, all mixed up together. If they finish every bite Finn won't eat at all. Dregs of wine served from half-empty glasses, and Finn’s given no water until they drink Patrick’s leftover wine or whiskey.

One night they were fed a nearly-full glass of both and ended up drunk and morose alone in their little room, and it had to be on purpose, it had to be.

Is it degrading? It might be, if Finn even gave a shit any longer. All they really care about is somewhere else in this house, locked up. Finn wonders, idly, if Ellis has broken anyone’s nose yet. Their smile relaxes, just a little, when it occurs to them that the answer is almost certainly yes. 

“I wasn’t aware my little captive finds polishing my silver so entertaining,” Patrick says from the doorway, and the smile drains from Finn’s face, immediately. They hadn’t even heard him move. “You know there are other things of mine I could have you polish.”

Finn swallows back the disgusted curse that they have ready on their tongue, too aware of the armed guards that are always just a few steps behind Patrick Michaelson, entirely too aware of how much it hurts when those guards are given the order to beat them.

“N-no thank you.” If their voice trembles, it’s from holding back their hatred. But Patrick smiles, anyway, as he moves into the room with perfect self-confidence, a man whose presence takes up every inch of the room right to the walls, leaving Finn feeling almost breathless. Like Patrick sucks out all the air until he’s the only thing left to breathe.

Patrick isn’t exceptionally tall, or broad, but still everything about him seems outsized. He fills Finn’s mind with distinct clarified hatred. It was Patrick they’d seen first, when they woke up after their capture. Patrick was the first to come down into the basement to look at Finn chained and gagged in one of their little torture cells, beaten and bloody. It was Patrick who had dragged a finger slowly up Finn’s stomach and chest as they struggled, watching them with delighted amusement. Patrick had shoved a hand down their pants just to watch the blood drain from their face in a sudden terror of what they thought might come next.

Then he’d simply turned and ordered the guards to make absolutely sure Finn did not die. They have more than pretty hair I’d like to see a little more of, don’t they? 

Patrick was the one who had had Finn moved to the kitchens and kept in the tiny room. 

Corrine looked at Finn and saw nothing but a pair of hands she could use to provide first aid to dying victims until she discarded them, but it was the way Patrick looked at them that really, really made Finn want to sink into the floor and disappear. 

“Fair enough, love.” Patrick doesn’t move to leave, though, only leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of himself, watching Finn with perfect focus. 

“I’m not your love.” After a pause, Finn looks up, swallowing. They keep their eyes narrowed, cover up the nervous flutters of real fear with anger, defensiveness. Remind themself that Ellis is somewhere in this house… at least, they hope so. “Can I… help you?” Their eyes flick to the two armed guards standing on the other side of the door behind Patrick.

Neither of them so much as blinks.

In a better world, Finn thinks, those men might have fought against the Syndicates, and won. Instead they’re all trapped in this world, and the two men have flat eyes that stare right through Finn and hands that never leave the guns they wear on their hips.

“Actually, I think you can.” Patrick smiles at him, all warmth and light, and Finn shudders, just a little, at the way there’s a strange need in them to step closer to that smile. “Sit for dinner with me tonight. I have an important subject I would like to discuss with you.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Finn wishes that their voice sounded stronger, but the words come out almost weak. A token protest.

“Can’t say I’ve ever had to,” Patrick answered with gentle good humor. “And that wasn’t a request. You will join me for dinner, and I will speak to you about Ellis.”

Finn, lip curled back from their teeth and ready with a new insult, froze. “What about Ellis?”

“Ah, see, there’s the prickle of interest I was looking for. The mother of my child-”

“They’re the mother of their own fucking child, and mine,” Finn snapped. Patrick only smiled wider in response, and Finn inwardly groaned. Damn it, that’s what he wanted, was to rile me up. Why do I always let him do it?

“The mother,” Patrick repeats, continuing as if Finn hadn’t spoken, “is having a few concerning health troubles, lately. If you want to know more-”

“Health troubles?” Blood rushes in Finn’s ears. They are aware, very suddenly, of every possible pregnancy complication they’ve ever read about or even heard mentioned in passing, the way that stress can cause serious problems, and is anyone on earth more stressed than a pregnant person held fucking hostage by fucking Syndicate monsters who want to steal their baby? “I-I’m a… I have some medical knowledge…”

“I know, Finn. Just think of what help you could be to the mother, if you had the option, hm?” The smugness that wove into his voice, the way it deepens Patrick’s lilting Irish brogue, has Finn nearly ready to try and break the chain off their ankle so they could choke Patrick to death with it.

Not that they were entirely sure he could die.

“What…” Finn swallows, aware with a sickening flip of their stomach of the weight of Patrick’s eyes as he watches their throat move. “What do I have to do to… see Ellis?”

“Oh, we’re negotiating, now, are we.” Patrick speaks in a voice like a purr, low and rumbling. Finn felt it on their skin like a film of something thick and suffocating, standing perfectly still as Patrick moved away from his position in the doorway and walked towards them. He paused, just to their side, and Finn’s eyes lowered without their consent to stare down at the cloth in one hand, the silver spoon in the other.

For a moment - just a second - they are sure they’ll feel Patrick’s lips move against their ear.

Then the Michaelson patriarch moved slowly around them in a half-circle. His guards stepped into the room as well, watching Finn with a cold gleam. They’re watching Patrick play with his food, Finn thinks, lifting their chin again, willing it not to tremble. They’re enjoying this.

“I’ve been-” 

Patrick’s hand settles on their lower back and Finn goes quiet, feels their spine suddenly stiffen in response. He’s too warm, too much, and Finn would rather die than let him do what they think comes next but they’d rather live than leave Ellis here, trapped alone.

So their fingers go white-knuckled on the spoon and the polishing cloth, their chin lifts even higher, and they try to remember that dignity and pride aren’t what keep you alive when the Syndicates have their eyes on you.

“I’ve been good,” Finn whispers, blood rushing to their face, tears pricking hot at their eyes. For Ellis. Just to see Ellis. Please let me see Ellis. “I can help treat the pregnancy.”

“Do you think you can?” Patrick’s hand presses harder into Finn’s back, forcing their hips to bump forward into the table. Finn’s eyes widen in panic, heart beating fast in their chest like it wants to run from this as much as they do. 

The watching guards smile, nearly as one. 

Patrick is going to bend them forward onto the table and fuck them right here, isn’t he? And Finn could fight but all their body does is feel suddenly horrifyingly cold.

“Yes,” They whisper, to answer his question. When his other warm lands, just as warm, just as heavy, on Finn’s shoulder, they have to bite back a sob. 

For Ellis. For Ellis for Ellis for Ellis-

“That’s good to hear, little Finn.” Patrick’s teeth graze at their ear, and a shudder runs through Finn’s body, shivering want from their scalp through their toes. They don’t want anything like this, they hate this man more than they’ve ever hated anything on earth, but the soft hot breath of his whisper against their ear is horribly, unbearably good. “Tell me you’ll be a well-behaved, polite, pliant little medic for me.”

Finn closes their eyes, takes a deep, shaking breath in. They can’t throw up all over the table no matter how badly they want to right now. They can do whatever it takes. They can do whatever they have to do, for Ellis. “I can be good-... a g-good medic, for you.”

“Say you’ll take good care of my baby, little Finn.”

“I’ll-” Rage burns away the odd constriction they feel weaving around them, slowly but surely, like Patrick is spinning ribbons to wrap them up that they can never unwind on their own. Finn has a strange image of a maypole with children dancing around it from some movie they saw years ago. “I’ll… take good care of my baby-”

“That’s not what I told you to say.” Patrick’s lips move to graze their jaw, and the silver spoon in Finn’s hand drops with a clatter onto the table top. They stare at the guards, who only grin back, guns on their hips. “Tell me it’s my baby, Finn, and have dinner with me. Then you can see Ellis tonight.”

She’s not your fucking baby, you fucking monster, you piece of fucking shit on a shoe, you-

“Fuck you,” Finn whispers with vicious intensity. Suddenly, Patrick pulls away, and the air is full of his scent and a sense of something verdant and green just over the horizon. There is a half-second, with revulsion in their blood and fear in their pulse, that they would still follow him to the end of the horizon to see it. 

Then the moment is gone, and they wonder with a whole new level of panic where the fuck that thought came from.

“Fair enough. I have an heir and have raised many children to adulthood,” Patrick says amicably, waving one hand in a dismissal. “We’ll simply monitor the mother and see what happens, I suppose. Here I thought you might actually want to see them, but I see I misjudged you.”

No matter what happens, Finn, I love you, okay?

I love you, too-

“Wait!” 

Patrick stops just before the doorway, looking over his shoulder. There’s a smattering of gray in his close-cropped black hair, a hint of it in the rakish stubble that never quite leaves his jaw and chin. Crows-feet and wrinkles, here and there, only seem to make him seem ruggedly handsome. The deep brown of his skin has what feels like an impossible sense of warmth, like  bright sun is always shining on it even on cloudy days.

He’s a monster, he and his wife both. They hunt down people like Finn and Finn’s team and kill them or use them up and then dispose of the bodies when they’re done. Ellis and Finn are just the newest toys in the toybox, and they have no idea how long after the baby is born the two of them might be allowed to live.

“Yes, Finn? Did you have another insult to fling my way?” Patrick’s eyes sparkle with amusement. The bastard knows exactly what Finn is going to say.

“It’s-” The words stick in their throat, tar that coats their vocal chords and fills their lungs as they fight to breathe around the humiliation, the anger, the pain. “It’s… it’s your baby, Patrick. Not-... the baby is yours.”

“Say it again.” Patrick turns to face them, but doesn’t move closer this time.

“It’s your baby.” Finn’s lips feel numb. It’s a lie but what if it isn’t now? Is she still going to be their baby if they’re dead before she can form a memory of them? Is she still their baby if Corrine and Patrick teach her to hate the rebels, to hate the very people who made her?

Is she a Michaelson or a Dunham or-

“Again.”

Finn closes their eyes, tears trickling down their cheeks. “It’s not my baby,” They whisper. “But yours.”

My daughter. My baby. Ellis and I made her together, she’s supposed to be a symbol of hope, you fucking bastard, how dare you make me lie about her before she’s even born, how dare you-

“Good. Not my will but thine be done. Not that I’m Catholic, but the sentiment fits. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” Patrick snapped his fingers, and his two guards moved on Finn at once. They flinched, but one guard grabbed their hands by the wrists to pull behind their back, and they fought every instinct that told them to fight back, kick or something, and let the handcuffs be closed around their wrists. They let the chain be unlocked from their ankle.

They let the guards lead them to stand before Patrick, who takes their chin in his rough warm fingers, and lifts it so they looked him in the eyes. For a second they expect him to say, get on your knees. What comes out instead is, “Do you like smoked oysters, little Finn?”

“I-I… does it matter?” They sound almost as thrown off as they feel. 

“Mmmn. I guess not. You’ll eat them anyway or I’ll choke you on them. Let’s talk about the issues we’re having with the mother over dinner. I’ll have your kit brought up from the basement and let my wife know she’ll have to send for our personal doctor if she wants care provided to the rebels tonight.” 

His hand slides around behind Finn’s head, grips into their hair to force their head back as he leans in and takes a deep breath. His smell, cologne and the green hills, floats around Finn, soaks into their skin and settles deep within their lungs. They find themself leaning in to Patrick’s scent - and then recoiling back as the disgust hits them all at once.

Why would they lean into it? And why can’t they stop thinking he looks so fucking handsome?

Patrick hums, looking them over. “I want something pretty to look at tonight. And you’re definitely a pretty one, aren’t you? I could stare at you all night.” He chuckles, tightening the grip on their hair until their knees buckle at the flash of pain and something infinitely more shameful, and then he pulls away and walks back out the door. The guards shove Finn to get them moving right behind him, and they stare at Patrick’s broad back in his perfectly tailored suit as they scramble to get their balance and walk fast enough to keep up.

They are redressed in a suit and tie themself, dressed up like a doll, placed in a chair with their hands cuffed down to watch Patrick eat. They are forced to say that Ellis is carrying Patrick and Corrine Michaelson’s baby again and again, until the words are nearly numb to them. The words are hollow and they are damnation.

They are a test of what Finn will give up to have Ellis, however briefly, just for a second, for any moment at all.

The answer, of course, is that they’ll give up everything. They’ll give anything.

Later, when they are brought handcuffed and forced to their knees - when they can see Ellis but not touch them, lay their head to their rounded stomach but not put their hands there to feel their own baby kicking, they wonder - briefly - if it’s going to be worth the cost.

Then Ellis runs their fingers through Finn’s hair and it is, it is worth it, it will always, always be worth whatever they must give to have Ellis, the baby, to grasp on to the threads of what’s left of their family and world.

The next night, they serve Patrick, Corrine, and Ellis their dinner in perfect silence - they will only be allowed to see Ellis if they don’t speak a word. Except for four.

They are forced to say it’s not my baby, to Patrick’s glowing, proud smile, before they are given permission to kneel next to Ellis’s chair. Close enough for Ellis to brush their leg against Finn’s shoulder. Nothing more than that.

Long before they offer themself to Patrick to get some small shards of mercy, he is already breaking them. Before he brands them, before they are tied to his bed and cry out his name and beg him, screaming, to stop and for more, they were already a toy, a plaything. It’s only the way they are played with that will change when they give up the very last bits of themself they have left.

For Ellis, and for their baby, Finn Dunham can and will give up anything.

Patrick Michaelson knows it.

---

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @orchidscript @burtlederp @raigash @sableflynn

[captain-kingliamsqueen]

Always Yours - L (Liam x Riley)

With a Heavy Heart Part 2

I’ve had this part sitting for SOOO LONG!!! but anxiety was through the roof...BUT ive decided to just do it...so here it is!!!! It’s been a while since part one was posted so if you need to go back and catch up....https://captain-kingliamsqueen.tumblr.com/post/175839022176/with-a-heavy-heart <--- this is the place to be! :P

Please let me know what you think, Your Feedback means the world to me!!!

Pairing: Liam x Riley PLUS A LITTLE CAMEO FROM A SPECIAL FRIEND!!!

Summary: …Rileys making a run for it...but where’s she going and what's the true reason for her leaving?

Word Count: 5,074

Tagged : @starstruckzonkoperatorbat​  @drakelover78​  @queencatherynerhys​ @devineinterventions2​ @jayjay879​  @kawairinrin​  @hopefulmoonobject​ @flyawayblue56​  @gardeningourmet  @blackcatkita​  @syltti78​  @theroyalweisme​​  @hhiggs​  @mfackenthal​  @bruteforcebears @pens-girl-87​ @barbaravalentino​ @umccall71​ @darley1101​ @crookedslimecreatorpasta​ @jamjar84​ @starstruckpixelberryhistoryvoid​ @speedyoperarascalparty​ @katurrade​ @scarlettedragon​ @zeniamiii​ @annekebbphotography @liam-rhys @xxrainbowprincessxx

 ASK IF YOU WANT TAGGED! SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE! (USED THE TAGS FROM MY “ALWAYS” SERIES LET ME KNOW IF ANYONE WANTS UNTAGGED!!!)

I always notice every single spelling mistake or issue after I’ve posted…so apologies in advance! 

 The envelope sat on the table in front of Riley, leaning against the vase, she wiped her cheeks as she pulled her phone out, scrolling through her contacts she stopped at the one she was looking for, she pressed dial then held the phone up to her ear. The dial tone rang three times then she heard his voice.

“hello?”

“…its riley”

“Riley? Riley Brookes? Well, well, well Riley Brookes what can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry, I know its late” she felt bad disturbing her childhood friend at that kind of time she knew it was late where he was.

“it’s alright, I wasn’t sleeping anyway”

“…I-I need your help, I need your expertise”

“wait a minute, I haven’t seen you in years ri, and now you need my help?”

“I know…it must sound strange…but its urgent…I need your help, just tell me if you can help me”

“of course, I will Riley, what is it?”

“I need you to meet me somewhere”

“alright, um…what about the grill? That restaurant we used to go to?”

“no…I need you to meet me somewhere a little further afield”

“Riley…what’s going on?”

“I’m in Cordonia”

“Cordonia? Where I was born…where I spent the first ten years of my life…that Cordonia?”

“yeah”

“what the hell are you doing there?”

“I met Liam Rhys in new York…I didn’t even know you knew him till I found out you knew Leo, I travelled here a while ago, I competed in the social season as a suitor, we fell in love…” Riley sniffled “he was going to choose me, we were going to get married…but…something happened and…and now he’s been forced into an engagement with madeleine”

“not that bitch!”

“…someone set me up with a picture in the press, as soon as the palace got a hold of it, they removed me from the palace…Liam had max and Bertrand bring me back after a few weeks, and he explained to me what happened, but we don’t know who did it…the guards can’t figure out who did it, I can’t stay here any longer, if I leave…maybe we can find out who…who done it…if they think there’s no chance of me and Liam being together and that ive given up and left…they might get sloppy we might catch them…I can’t let him marry her. He deserves so much better.”

“so, you think I can figure out who done it?”

“I know you can”

“where do you wanna meet?”

“do you remember my grandma’s house…we used to go for a couple of weeks in the summer”

“in Scotland?!”

“yeah…”

“Riley…that’s an eight-hour flight”

“I know, it’s a bit far to travel, but…I have to fight for him…I can’t just sit here like a spare part, I have to figure out who done it! I have to stop their engagement, no matter what it takes”

“alright, I’ll do it, when do you went to meet?”

“my flight leaves in…two hours, just get the earliest flight you can, and I’ll meet you there”

“alright…I’ll see you soon Riley”

“thank you, I owe you big time! I’ll see you soon”

after they both hung up the phone, Riley let out a sigh before putting her phone in her bag.

“god I hope Liam can forgive me” she whispered, once she knew she had everything, her bags sat the door, she made her way back over to the table, she sighed then reached behind her neck and unclasped her necklace. She smiled softly, as she remembers when she got it.

It was one of those nights that they had snuck out of the palace, Liam was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses as was Riley, in the hopes not being spotted. The two walked hand in hand down the street of shops just opposite the beach. Cordonia was one of those places where a lot of tourists go, this meant that as the shops started the shut, the merchants would start setting up their gazebos and tables to sell their products to the night life. As the two walked past each table, glancing at what they were selling, they came to a stop at a small jewellery stand. The woman behind the stand greeted them with a smile.

“hello, is there anything you’re interested in?”

“we’re just looking thank you, I must say these pieces are gorgeous, ohh my goodness” Riley gasped as she lifted a small charm, it was a solid circle with green and white ropes intertwining. “my granny, she used to have one of these, she lived in Scotland, her whole life, we would visit her for a couple of weeks every year, the year before she died she gave it to me, she wore it on her bracelet every day, and every time I noticed it I would tell her how beautiful I thought it was, when we were coming home, after her funeral, it got lost, we were running late for our flight back to the states, when we got caught in a rush, I’m not sure if someone stole it, or if I dropped it, but by the time we made it to the plane, it wasn’t on my wrist, it broke my heart, that I lost it, I always wore, I refused to take it off in case I lost it, but I ended losing it in the end.”

“let’s get it.”

“what?”

“let’s buy it, then it can remind you of your grandmother and, our evening right here right now.”

“okay…” Riley smirked as she informed the woman of the one she wanted to buy.

“you know, for an extra 4 euros. We can engrave it for you?”

“really?”

“of course,”

“could we do that…”

“of course,” the woman smiles then handed Riley a piece of paper. “just write down what you would like us to put” before Riley would write anything Liam spoke.

“may I…?” he smiled

“yes, of course!” she handed him the pen and paper. Liam wrote down quickly what he wanted it to say then passed the paper to the woman.

“what did you put?”

“you’ll have to wait and see” he smirked.

“I didn’t know you were part Scottish”

“yeah, on my mom’s side, I haven’t been back since my granny’s funeral, ive been dying to go back”

Just a few moments later the woman handed Riley the charm in a small paper bag. They thanked the woman then carried on their walk. Riley took the charm from the bag and turned it over.

 Always

yours

- L

“I love it” she grinned, “I love it so much, I’m going to put it on a chain and wear it as a necklace and I’m never going to take it off.”

As Riley came back to reality, she lifted the charm to her lips, placing a gentle kiss on it, then placed it down beside the envelope. She looked down at her watch seeing that it was just past six o’clock, she took a quick glance around the room, then headed for the door, she grabbed her suitcase and her carryon bag then headed out. She knew there would be little chance of being seen as dinner had not long been served so everyone would be eating.

In the dining hall, Liam watching the door like a hawk, every time the doors opened his heart would beat a million miles an hour hoping it was her. It was when it reached quarter past six, dinner had been served for a good twenty minutes…still no sign of her. Liam messed with his food swirling it around his plate, he couldn’t eat…he couldn’t even think about food at that moment.

He sighed then placed his fork down. “if you will excuse me for a moment” he stated politely then stood from his chair and headed out of the room. He beelined straight for Riley's room, something wasn’t sitting well with him, she wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye…would she? she promised…

As Liam reached her bedroom, he knocked twice…no answer…nothing. After the third time, he whispered “fuck this” he twisted the handle and walked in.

“Riley…” he called looking around the room, it looked as if no one had ever stayed there…his eyes caught the small two seat table at the window, he walked over lifting the envelope. With her handwriting on the front…

For Liam

He let out a shaky breath as he opened the letter, reading it in his head.

My dearest Liam,

It is with a heavy heart that I write you this letter, I know you’re going to hate me for the this, but I couldn’t bear the thought of saying goodbye…

The tears fell down his face as he read it. He knew she couldn’t have left long ago, so he stood from the chair, he bolted out of the room, running for the front entrance. It was just as he got to the doors that he seen the gates closing behind a taxi.

“I love you so much” he whispered. He wanted to run after her…he wished he could…it killed him that he couldn’t. He turned on his heels, walking back into the palace, he walked back down to her room, he slammed the door behind him, picked up the closest object and threw it across the room. As soon as the crash was heard, Bastian came running into the room.

“your Majesty is everything alright?!?”

“she left…she’s gone!”

“hey man what’s going on?” Drake walked in behind Bastian.

“it seems lady Riley, has gone” Bastian informed him.

“no…she is gone Bastian! She left! With all of her things…she’s leaving Cordonia!”

“Liam, why would she leave?”

“why wouldn’t she?! Every person in there looks down their damn nose at her! She has madeleine making stupid remarks at her all damn day! she’s done Drake, she couldn’t stay and be picked on like that!! And I couldn’t expect her to.” Liam sat down in the seat at the table.

“when did she go?”

“I just missed her going out the gates.”

“can we catch her at the airport?”

“no…she had to go…I…I have to let her…as much as I would love to stop her from leaving…I can’t, she chose to go so I have to let her”

“I wish for once you would do something for your own damn benefit Liam why are you so god damn selfless!”

“I can’t…I can’t make her stay Drake, it’s her decision to make not mine. How cruel would that make me…to ask her to endure all that … to expect her to just sit by and listen to people talk about her, call her names, do you know what they were calling her? A slut! A whore!!! They were calling her my mistress…a gold digger…you name it they called her it! She doesn’t deserve any of it! She couldn’t take it anymore no one can blame her for leaving because of it” He sighed as he looked down at the open letter, then he spotted the charm just poking out from underneath. He lifted it, then he realised something.

“why don’t we fly out to New York.”

“there’s no point”

“you can’t just let her go man”

“she’s not going to New York.”

“what?”

“she’s…going to Scotland”

“Liam why would she be going to Scotland? Did she tell you she was going there?”

“no not in those words but…I’m sure that’s where she’s headed, you see this charm? We got it when we left the palace one night during the social season, she seen it whilst we were walking down one of the main streets, she told me a story about how her grandmother had one that was exactly the same, she lived in Scotland and the year before she passed she gave it to Riley, Riley had worn it every day on a necklace chain, she said it made her think of her grandmother and of Scotland, but she lost it just after her grandmother’s funeral on her way back to the states, when she got this she swore she would never take it off, she wouldn’t have left it if she wasn’t going to come back, it meant too much for her to leave it…”

“if she’s leaving and doesn’t want you to go after her…why would she want you to know where she’s going.”

“but that’s just it Drake…she wants us to know where she’ll be…I don’t know what she’s doing but she left this here for a reason”

“your Majesty…if I may?” Bastian butted in “maybe lady Riley, didn’t leave solely for the reason that she couldn’t take it…as you know lady Riley is a very smart woman, if she didn’t want to be found, you wouldn’t find her, she knows the first place you would look is new York so she’s not going there, it would make sense if her loved Scotland that much, that’s where she’s gone!  She wouldn’t have told you where she was going because she knows chances are…someone would be right behind her, I’m just not sure what she would get from leaving?”

Riley cried all the way to the airport, she spotted Liam running out of the building and it just set her off. she just hoped he would understand.

She spent 4 hours on the plane to Scotland, once she landed she hailed a taxi and headed for her grandmother’s house in the countryside. Once she got in, she settled in to her old bedroom. As soon as she was settled, she placed her suitcase on the bed, she unzipped the case, then opened it. She removed the folder from on-top of the piles of clothes. As she opened the folder she removed all the loose papers, she emptied its contents out onto the bed. There were documents, bank statements, pictures of everyone at court, she had collected everything she could before leaving Cordonia. She lifted all the photos then turned to the wall opposite the bed, she got up, removing the large photo frame from the wall, she quickly shifted to determination mode, she had to find out who was behind the scandal, and she had to do it quickly!

 “LA? So that’s where he’s hiding!” Riley whispered as she looked over Tariq’s bank statements.

It was in the early hours of the morning that the doorbell rang, Riley sighed then ran downstairs, knowing who it was, as she opened the front door, she was met with a face she hadn’t seen for way too long.

“Hey Damian” Riley smiled

“hey ri…” he smiled softly pulling Riley into the most loving hug.

“so how ar-”

“no time to chat! Come on!” Damian left his suitcase at the door as Riley pulled him upstairs to her childhood room. As Damian stepped into the room his eyes shot to the wall.

“uhhhh wow! Alright so…what have you got so far?” he asked bewildered as he looked over all the photos, pen lines, documents…everything.

“you might want to sit down” she sighed. Damian sat down at the end of the single bed, then listened as Riley filled him in on what the scandal was, in detail.

“…so, I’ve been trying to work this thing out but ive hit a dead end, the last person I can trace anything to is Penelope, when I spoke to her she said she didn’t have a choice, she had to do it, after that it’s a dead end”

“is it possible it could have been her?”

“no…I don’t believe it was her for one minute, I think she was bribed to do it, I think she was promised a place as a lady in waiting, she couldn’t leave court, she had been telling her parents how well she was doing…”

“by who though?”

“that’s the problem…I can’t figure it out…who would benefit most from me not being queen”

“do you think it was madeleine?”

“I do…and I don’t…she spent the whole social season being truthful…not once did she cheat…she always done it by the book, but she was always so certain she would queen, no matter what happened she knew she was going to get that proposal”

“alright wait a minute…so Olivia got a letter too?”

“yes, here it is, she let me have it when I told her I was looking into who it was. it says that if she didn’t leave, they would reveal the truth about her parent’s death.”

“wait…the truth…I thought they died in a political assassination?” Damian asked confused.

“that’s what I thought too…until…she told me, that they were actually plotting a rebellion…they were plotting to assassinate the royal family, so they could take the throne for themselves”

“NAW! SHIT! This is like movie drama man…no wonder Leo left” he chuckled to himself

“DAMIAN!” riley clapped her hands at him to get his attention back “focus!!”

“sorry…that’s just…wow”

“I know right, but the thing is…that story was never released to the media, it is only known by the monarchy and security… Anyway…who ever sent Olivia that letter is behind mine…meaning they are behind it all”

“Riley…you realise what this means?”

“what”

“it’s one of them…it’s one of the royals”

“what?”

“Riley…it’s so obvious, only the royals and security knew about that story, nothing was printed about it…nothing was posted about it…so I wanna bet…that whoever it was that got Penelope to hire that photographer…was doing it for them…the royal family Riley…they wouldn’t risk someone finding out it was them…they get everyone else to do their dirty work…who do you know answers to the king and queen…no one else?...who would do anything at their monarchies demand?” Damian smirked waiting for Riley to catch on

“-security! Security would do anything for them…if one of the royals ordered them to do something its done without questions no matter what it is!”

“…you find out what member of security it was…you’ll find out who it was that hired them…each member of the royal family has a specific security guard…who would do anything for the monarchy.”

“how did I not see this!”

“because you were too close to it! do you think Liam might have been-”

“NO! don’t even go there!” she snapped “that’s not him…he couldn’t do that to a person, especially not me, he wouldn’t do that to me!”

“are you sure?”

“yes…I’m one million percent sure…It wasn’t him, why would he do that…in the end…he was the one choosing who to marry, if he didn’t want Olivia or I being queen…he just wouldn’t have picked us…there would be no need for him to go to those lengths!”

“alright…so it’s between those two” he pointed and the two pictures of Regina and Constantine

“I’m going to have to call Liam

“Riley maybe you should wait, until we know for sure who done it?”

“I can’t! I have no choice,…I-I can’t just let him be around them unknowing of what they’ve done…they could be doing anything, they tried to interfere with the kings marriage, it’s a rule that the reigning monarch must be married within a certain amount of time of becoming king or queen, they made sure it was madeleine that was chosen, she went to his room the night before, she gave him a proposal if he picked her, he could still have me…madeleine could be in on the whole thing! I have to call him Damian…for all I know she’s setting him up to fail… I can’t let him be alone with them if they are the reason behind it all.”

“okay…you should call him! But listen…its late…I’m tired and you look like you could do with some sleep, so I’m going to go to bed.”

“oh thanks” Riley retorted sarcastically

“what…I’m just saying’?”

“alright…but we have to start early tomorrow, I have two days before the engagement tour leaves Cordonia I have to figure it out and get back before they leave”

“alright, we’ll figure it out Riley, I promise” Damian stood from the bed, “goodnight riley”

“goodnight D” Riley watched Damian leave her bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Riley's phone beeped in her pocket, she took a seat on the bed as she scrolled through all the missed calls, all the messages from Liam…Drake…Hana…Maxwell. She felt so guilty, she didn’t intend t hurt any of them…she knew they would be worried sick. She wasn’t sure how Liam would be feeling, for all she knew he hated her…hated her for leaving, for not saying goodbye, she just hoped in the end he would be able to forgive her. The more she though about him hating her the more she thought about calling him…just to let him know what was going on, that she would be back…she had to warn him about Regina and Constantine she couldn’t tell him when the real reason she was leaving when she was with him the day before, she didn’t know if anyone would hear her plans, she didn’t know if the room was bugged. she couldn’t call Liam's phone, chances are it was being tracked so she done the next best thing. She pressed dial on drake’s number.

“Riley!” he called thankful that she had got in touch with them.

“Drake…is Liam there?”

“no, but I can try and get him for you, I’m not sure if he’s sleeping though…where are you? What’s going on? Why did you leave?”

“Drake, I’m sorry but I don’t have time to talk, I need to speak to Liam, its urgent”

“alright, I’ll go and get him”

“don’t tell him it’s me…no one can know, they have to think I’m out…ive gone and I’m not coming back”

“Riley…what’s going on?”

“Drake I promise okay, everything’s alright…I’m just being careful”

Riley heard Drake walking then stop and knock on a door. It was just about a minute later that she heard Liam's voice.

“Drake, what’s up?” he mumbled tiredly

“can I come in?”

“yeah sure” Drake walked into the room shutting the door behind him.

“what’s up?”

“I have someone on the phone for you” he told Liam

“here...here’s Liam” he informed Riley then passed the phone to Liam.

“who is it?” Riley heard Liam mumble tiredly

“…just answer it” Drake sighed

“hello?” her heart jumped when she heard his voice.

“Liam” she whispered, “I’m so sorry” she sniffled “I’m sorry for…not saying goodbye…I promised I would but…I couldn’t I just couldn’t.”

“Drake could you give me the room please?” Liam asked Drake. After Riley heard shuffling Liam began to speak again.

“why did you leave the necklace? You wanted me to know where you were…why?”

“because I knew you would understand that…if I was running away and not coming back…I wouldn’t have left it…”

“why did you leave?”

“I had to go, I had to figure out who was behind it Liam…I couldn’t do that at court…I was too close to everything.”

“Riley…you didn’t have to leave…Bastian and the security team are on the case, it’s their priority.”

“that’s the thing Liam…it’s not…”

“what do you mean?”

“Liam…do you remember a little boy that used to play with Leo? His name was Damian?”

“Damian yes, I remember Damian…wait how do you know Damian?”

“when he left Cordonia, he moved to the house next door to me, we were best friends growing up, we stopped talking when we went off to college, but…I found out he went into police work, when he left the force, he became a private investigator, well, he’s here with me, I called him and asked him to help me figure out, who done it…we spent hours going through everything Liam…and the answer is just so obvious and I don’t know how we didn’t see it.”

“see what Riley?”

“its Regina or Constantine…Liam. I’m not sure which one…but it is, Penelope’s card was used to pay for the photographer, she wouldn’t have done something like that unless she was bribed. When I spoke with her she said, she didn’t have a choice, she had to do it! Then it’s the fact of the warning letters…whoever wrote them, they threatened Olivia, they threatened that they would tell everyone the truth about her parents…now the only people who knew about what happened with Olivia’s parents were Constantine, Regina, you and the security team, now whoever did it isn’t going to do it themselves, they aren’t  stupid enough to get their fingerprints on anything, they don’t want to get their hands dirty…now each member of the monarchy has its very own security guard who would do anything for their monarch, if we find out which member of security it is…we find out who did it, but you have to be careful Liam, Bastian is your personal security, he’s the main security of the kings guard, as he was when your father was king…you have to be careful around him just in case. Liam…if I didn’t leave…we would have never found that out, if we just stuck with trusting the kings guard, we would have been puppets, we wouldn’t know anything, you would be marrying madeleine, they weren’t looking into it…not properly Liam…”

“m-my father? Regina? I can’t believe either of them would do this…how-how could they…” Riley could hear the disappointment in his voice.

“I’m sorry Liam, I know this is all hard to hear, this is the people whom you hold close to your heart, to find out that one of them betrayed you, it’s hard, I understand that.”

“okay um…you can’t repeat what you just said to me…to anyone…at least until we find out which one of them it was.”

“I didn’t leave to hurt you Liam…I left to fight for you, I couldn’t tell you my plan in case the room was bugged or anything, that’s why I had to make out that I wasn’t coming back, I won’t lie…I was telling the truth, everything I said about madeleine about not willing to just stand there and let her bully me, sneaking around…all of that was true Liam…I couldn’t do it anymore…that’s why I said I had to go, I had to go so that I could figure out who done this, who caused all of this because I couldn’t take it any longer, you know me Liam…I am a strong willed woman, I try not to let nasty words get to me…but I’m not made of stone, I couldn’t stand there and just let her belittle me…I’m sorry but…it’s not okay to treat someone like that, she played you Liam…just as much as she played me. She told you, you could have the best of both worlds, she told you that picking her would be the best option because she would be the better queen…but she hasn’t acted like a queen once…she’s acting like a twelve-year-old Liam and I’m not sure if she’s in on it all, she knew if you couldn’t pick me, you would take the next best thing…we could still be together…she knew you would pick her if she told you us being together wouldn’t be a problem for her!”

“I know…she played me…she played me good…but you and I, we’ll have the last laugh when we find out who it was that took advantage of you, then I can end the engagement then…me and you, Riley…we can be together, we can get married. Riley, I’ll do everything I can to find out who’s behind it, but…now that we know its them…can…can you come home, I-I need you to come home?” he whispered the last part.

“I-I can’t Liam…not yet, I can’t come back until we know which one done it…whilst I’m not there they’ll think they’ve gotten away with it, we’ll be more likely to catch them if they let their guard down. I promise Liam…I promise I’ll be back as soon as we have whoever’s behind it all, I’ll be on the first flight home. I will not let them tear us apart”

“Riley, all we have to do is speak with Penelope and find out which one of the guards it is, then we’ll know.”

“it’s not that simple Liam, I wish it was but it’s not, we don’t know what their plan was, it may have just been to stop me or Olivia from becoming queen, but we don’t know that…we don’t know what they’re up to…this could just be a small part of it. Like I said earlier, what I said to you before I left I wasn’t lying, I won’t just come back and stand for all of it when I come back Liam, I won’t just stand by and let them talk about me and to me like that. I refuse to do it, I can’t come back until my name is cleared and I know I’m coming back to be with you…for real.”

“of course…and I don’t expect you to, that’s why I didn’t come after you, I mean I wanted to, I really did, it killed me not to, but Riley…you told me that you couldn’t stand it anymore so I had to let you go…I understand…Riley, I do…I just…” he sighed

“I know…that was the plan, I just hope you can forgive me for leaving”

“forgive you…Riley, there’s nothing to be forgiven for…you left to fight for us, I can’t fault you for that”

“well for the record…I’m sorry I had to leave the way that I did, and I miss you”

“I miss you too…”

“I miss you too, you don’t have to apologise, I’m just happy you called, and I know that you’re okay and your coming back, that’s what matters to me Riley, knowing that your coming back”

“and I will, as soon as we figure out who done it, but I need someone to speak to Penelope, we need to find out who it was that asked her to do it”

“of course, I’ll do it first thing tomorrow, Riley.”

“Liam?”

“yeah?”

“what’s going to happen when we find out who it was?”

“I’m not sure Riley…I-I honestly don’t know what will happen…if the country finds out what’s happened, their trust in the monarchy…it won’t last long, if it’s one of them…we have to find Tariq…it’s the only way we can clear your name without effecting the peoples trust.”

“He’s in LA, I just don’t know where exactly”

“what?”

“his bank statements show that his last purchase two days ago, was in LA I could only get a brief copy though, so it doesn’t state his exact location…he could anywhere”

If You Like It....Reblog It <3

[lets-tari-me-world]

Who will miss me when I’m gone? FINAL

- Inspired by Jungkook’s Love Yourself - 

The doctor had noticed that Jeon Jungkook wasn’t grumpy anymore and even looked forward to his surgery because, like Jenna said, even if he gets paralyzed he can still become Korea’s best paraplegic batter. His friend had left the hospital for 3 weeks and she made him promise to talk to other patients and even left him her gaming console to practice for their next game. During those 3 weeks, Jungkook worked hard in rehabilitation to get back on his feet as quickly as possible.

When Jenna came back, Jungkook’s wheelchair was gone and he could walk with the help of clutches. He looked as good as she left him as he was proud to show her that he could finally stand on his legs. He even presented her his new friends as a proof for keeping his promise. Since the temperature became warmer, they spent a lot of time in the hospital’s backyard. Since Jenna’s heart condition got better and Jungkook can now stand up, walking outside was a good exercise for them.

“It’s good to see you happy and optimist. I was afraid you’d be so bored without me, you’d go back to your hopeless and grumpy self.” Jenna said while they were walking around the garden.

“In another situation, I would tell you should be more modest, but it’s thanks to you that I didn’t give up, so I’ll just say yes, it was boring without you, but I wanted you to be proud to see me on my two feet.”

“What's the first thing you'll do when you leave the hospital?” Jenna asked out of the blue.

“Well, I’ll probably go see my baseball team's match if I'm discharged soon enough. I'll also try to buy tickets for ENDO’s and BST’s concerts, I missed their last ones because of my accident and eat the delicious food I missed so much with my friends. What about you?”  Jungkook could see the sadness in her eyes as she answered

“I've never seen a sports match, I've never been to a concert and I don't have friends to hang out with. I really don't know where I should start.”

“But you have me! We can do these things together.”

“Oh my god Jungkook are you asking me out?” Jenna said comically while exaggerating her reaction.

As they were both laughing, they suddenly heard someone playing guitar and quickly, a crowd gathered around the girl who was playing. Jenna walked closer towards them and looked back at Jungkook with a huge smile on her face.

“I love that song! It’s “A hopeful sky” by Jung Ji Eun from B-Pink! It's really beautiful and calm, I heard she wrote it for her father.” All the patients who knew the lyrics sang with the performer, including Jenna who really seemed to enjoy this surprise. The woman was a great singer and Jungkook enjoyed her performance and clapped along with the beat with the audience. Once she was done, the crowd was asking for an encore and the woman played a song that Jungkook knew very well. “Look over there” by his favourite group BST, was a nice upbeat song and everyone was dancing along, or at least trying to dance with their injured and tired bodies. Jungkook joined Jenna who was carefully moving her body side to side and tried to dance as best as he could with his clutches. To an outsider, it might look weird or funny, but everyone was having fun and that's what truly mattered.

On their way back inside, Jenna asked when he was getting discharged since he could almost walk with no help.

“Soon, but hopefully it's before April 24th. My baseball team has an important match that day and I would like to see them. Don't worry, I'll come visit you often, bring you healthy snacks and play your favourite games with you.”

“Thank you,” Jenna said with a beautiful and genuine smile that almost made Jungkook blush. He's not going to lie, she was really beautiful and her outgoing personality brought him out of his shell, gave him hope and courage to pull through his situation. He was thankful for that and it led her to have a special place in his heart. Although it felt as if he didn’t know Jenna that much, he stilled valued her presence in his life.

As the days passed, Jungkook was eager to be finally discharged but felt bad for his friend as it seemed she was destined to be chained to this hospital. He never dared to ask any details about her condition since whenever they talked about his, Jenna never said anything concerning her situation. Maybe the worst was awaiting her, after all, she's been in a hospital almost all her life. He quickly brushed away those dark thoughts from his mind and decided to do something for her. He wanted to help her as much as she helped him feel better.

Jungkook finally got discharged the morning of the baseball match, April 24th. After switching his hospital attire for his team's t-shirt and favourite jeans, he bought flowers at the hospital's shop and went to see Jenna. He was ready to tell her how important she is to him, how he'll never let her down and tell her about his surprise. He was planning to video call her during the match so she could see it live with him. Jungkook was expecting her to barge into his room as soon as she woke up since he was getting discharged, but maybe she was planning something. However, it piqued his curiosity when he had no answer after knocking on her door. It was already passed 10 AM and she never sleeps that long, so he pushed the door open only to find the room empty. As panic gained over him, he went to look everywhere; the balcony, the backyard, his room, he even asked a woman to check in the bathroom, but nothing. As he went to ask at the office near the entrance, he saw her. He didn't recognize her without her IV pole, her hospital gown and with her hair untied. Jenna had been sitting in the waiting room for a while and when she saw her friend come down the stairs, she walked up to him and his first reaction was to hug her.

“I thought something happened to you, I was so scared! What are you doing here?”

“Congratulations on getting discharged! I wanted to surprise you so I hid in the waiting room, I didn't mean to scare you. Remember when you said you’ll do a lot of things with me when I get discharged? Well, we are starting today with your team's baseball game because I’m going with you! The doctors accepted and my medication is in my bag.”

At that moment, Jungkook realized stunning Jenna looks when she's not wearing her hospital clothes. Although he could still see her IV lines, with that beautiful spring dress she had on, she looked healthy and that's what truly mattered.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

[kappasigmalife]

Desolate Caladium: Chp 4 Is this love or war?

Desolate Caladium: Chp 5

Is this love or war?

Callum had been very distant since he kissed me, all he does is keep to himself while were living out in the cabin, hes rebuilt the wall and stayed out for odd hours of the day only coming home at night. When he kissed me, he said he may love me, im so confused, its like theres multiple sides to him at every turn, the stoic, the loving, and the violent. I wish I could help him through this but I have no idea what goes on in a mages head. Evelyn said that the main problem comes from his lack of control over mana as a mage, but training for five years under a master should of helped him.  This had only happened one time before when he and trev were out in the woods hunting and he got hurt while callum was looking for food. A beast came out of nowhere and callum just snapped breaking its neck in cold blood. She was watching from afar and saw the look in his eyes that told her to stay behind or she may be the next victim. I knew a simple hug wouldn’t help him snap out of the rage, it was something we had to watch and see. The more I think about it the more I notice that I do care about him. When we watched the snow he pulled away from me saying he was sorry for kissing me.

“its not something I can control, I don’t know what I feel anymore, all I know is I feel the need to help you every chance I get.” “then stay with me, your going to do the best you can.” “and what if I am the one to hurt you next”

That made me think all over again what It meant to hurt another person, weve traveled and hid for a long time since the death of the king, and were running out of money. Callum works day in and day out, never sleeping and trying to keep up the energy just to live. He visits Alfin and evelyn in the hospital repeatedly looking for the need to apologize but cant do a damn thing about it. Alfin wants a rematch but callum wont stand for it while hes recuperating. The madness I see in his eyes is nothing but a trivial matter in that state, it’s the power he unleashes that comprimises the sanctity of safety. Evelyn visits me in the day to talk and wants to travel with us in spring as a group considering none of us are capable of being on our own.

“its for the best desmond, were not here for any other reason but to survive in this bout of life.” “doing so will keep us in less danger, so please understand that I need to run this by callum.” “of course he will fully give support on a yes or no, but please we don’t have much time to spare.”

“I know and I will talk to him as soon as I can evelyn, its just he doesn’t seem to wanna talk anymore” “I know desmond, he must be sorting his feelings out, im sure he will be back to normal soon.” over the days going by, evelyn has shown me how to fight with the sickle and even sparred with me a few times, while I am still a novice I will learn to get better. She even made a chain for me to use as a long range weapon and got me a grip so my hand doesn’t get shredded. It was nice of her as I know with alfin in the hospital he wont be much help around so offering her food and a place to talk is fine with her. She does seem a bit worried of both of her friends and doesn’t seem to talk about trev as much as everyone else claims to talk about him as well. She says its cuase hes always distant and would normally just hang out with callum more often than not, but that might be cause they come from similar backgrounds and they saw each other as friends through commonality. Trev was the one who joined him during his training as a guard in case things went south.  She said he was always a man after money and almost got callum expelled cause he was taking payment for guard duty of other mages despite it being against the schools rule of compensation.

Elsewhere in the kingdom, trev appears before a group of elders about his performance. He has been wanted for taking payment against orders and may face expulsion from the knights guard for it. The council perceives him as a threat due to his heritage and bloodline, being a vampire is bad enough but a orc dwarf mix is unheard of even in peasant families.

“dear trevant, why do you think its fine to take wares from those you work under as a job.” “to make a living, nothing more nothing less, I find no need to not accept a payment for a better job.”

“we found the pendent in your quarters, is this what you accepted as payment from that wanted murderer?” “I accepted the pendant as a gift from caladium when he left for training before I was sent over, a personal gift from a friend and comrade, nothing more.” “you think we will fall for that garbage, you let a murderer live regardless of the orders, high treason is what you committed, hence forth the elders have decided to exile you not only from the knights guard but from the kingdom entirely.” “fine with me this place was getting to hectic for my taste anyway, just another group of old folk looking to take down a new generation of progressive movement, heres my weapon and badge, im keeping the armor.” “be sure you will be escorted this evening outside the gate, wehre you go from there is your own issue.” “well thank goodness, I thought id be still here begging for mercy.”

Trev is led out to the citys outskirts and led away from the guards. As he looks back he shrugs his shoulders and shoulders his svardstav looking to the north. He recounts that he is happy to be done with being a knight as he found it too bothersome to save anyone based on an order and many of his so called targets were innocent bystanders, who happen to have crap loads of money. Reaching into his satchel he notices how much money hes got.

“thank you caladium and your magic stash.” trev walks down the dirt path as the snow begins to fall looking upwards he decides to head north before the holiday rush begins, knowing full well being alone on holidays is quite a pain in the ass. He traveled to a small lodging taking a black horse and leaving a small sack of gold in its pen stealing one of the swords from the mans armory and hauling off to the north.

I never thought much of the fact that callum was focusing on himself until it donned on me that he doesn’t have anyone to fight on even footing, at least without going crazy. His fight with trev showed me how skilled he is but also how far hes willing to go for the sake of saving his friend. i see the look in his eyes knowing full well he wont be around all the time for us and that the token of giving up a priceless artifact just to save our lives was not to taken lightly. He came to me for the first time in a few days asking if I wanted to go out to the trade market and shop around. Despite the lack of money, he wanted to get out of the woods and enjoy ourselves for once before the tourists pile in. evelyn chose to stay behind and wait for alfin to fully recover, I promised to get her a new coat as her royal one will remain to conspicuous against finding areas to hide out. I notice though that even as we walked, callum was quiet as ever but was at least smiling at me for the least.

“evelyn been teaching you well, your steps are quieter than before, and your getting more fit.” “well yeah more so im happy that your finally talking to me.” “I know, ive been thinking about what I did and how I either acted stupidly or if it truly was for the best I did it.”

“you didn’t have to do it you know, you didn’t have be kiss me like you needed to prove something.” “well it was an heat of passion, I was blinded by emotion and thought that maybe I had some feelings spilling out, but that wasn’t the case.”

He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to one of the shops, it was an apothecary that had rare herbs and minerals from far off lands. As I gazed around I could feel the energy was pure and whimsical to say the least. Callum had wanted this to be special for me, so he called in a favor from his friends outside the kingdom to make up for being so distant. In the back he set up a special meal for us with my favorite food. He lit the candles using magic and tossed a sphere to create an artificial moon over us. The night went on for hours as we enjoyed out meal and attempted to move past the  problems that we were facing with new comrades and the guards after us.

“never in my life would I feel safer than with you.” “no matter how far one of us goes, the other shall follow til the very end.” “despite the time, I feel as though we knew one another once before.” “that might be the case, but regardless, here we are now.”

I felt his foot going on top of mine not letting me go and proceeded to take me by the hand as the light dimmed into the room. He swayed me across as if it was a royal banquet and held me close. I felt overwhelmed as no one has ever embraced me as such before. The night felt like an eternity as I felt his gentle hands on mine, he rocked me in the room all night kissing my forehead and telling me that he was right to kiss me.

“no more will I be afraid, you were the first man to show me the look of innocence.” “and you are the man who showed me how to be a stronger person, to protect and believe that I am meant for more.” “I missed you so much over those five years, I always wanted to see you but the kingdom had turned on itself and I couldn’t find a way out.” “and I only wished to pay you back the way you did for me so many times.” as we walked out of the building he took my hand and held me close, I never seen him smile so much from one night of fun. He pulled me as we started rushing in the streets, bringing me to a wooden path.

“I wanted to ensure that this night doesn’t end too quickly, so I found a spot we can relax at.” “you really don’t have to do all this.” “trust me youll love this.” as he pulled me through the brush and down the path, I could tell that things were getting somehow warmer, like not just in the air or his smile. I finally felt like someone cared after so long. When we reached the end of the path I could only see a massive emerald fire burning in a pit and blanket sprawled out. callum sat asking me to join him and showed me what he had done.

“I used some old runes I had to make a everchanging flame, as it burns it shows the emotion we both convey.” “that’s really sweet, I can feel its heat from here.” callum kissed me saying that he was happy I loved the idea, the two of us kissed as we both saw the flames going from green to a yellow, and then to a deep red.

“crimson red, the color of love and adoration , all that I give for you is what I wish to hold.” “so long at you are close to me I can feel nothing but the upmost care for a man I see as my eternity.” Callum laid me down and undid my jacket seeing me sweating from the fires heat. He swiftly took his off and continued to caress my neck. I felt my arms grabbing his shirt tearing it slightly. When I apologized, he looked at me with an intense look.

“no need to think you hurt me, for im going to love you until the dawn breaks.” he took my shirt off holding my hands as he played with my nipples and teased my pants. I couldn’t help but look as he tore his off showing off his husky physique and sweated chest, his hair down and his brown eyes staring deeply into me like garnet nuggets in a kiln ready to be smoldered. He laid me down and unzipped my pants and began sucking me off. I could feel no better sensation than ive ever felt. I noticed his pants getting tighter and I unzipped them revealing this throbbing dagger, wholeheartedly grabbing and stroking it making him moan. I pulled the pants off as we stared at one another naked under the moonlight as callum waved his hands and wrapped the flames of love around us.

“I want you to see the magic of both humanity and the love I burn for you.” I watched as the flames began enveloping into a vortex around us and he laid on top of me his his hair parted and smiling at me. I felt as he began teasing my virgin hole with his hands and tongue, he was willing to do so much for me, and I could see the man I saw on horseback all that time ago, ready to make love for the first time. he held my hand as he made love to me, thrusting gently and slowly grabbing my waist and kissing me calling me name. the flames changing from red to yellow to a heavenly white. It was a perfect site to behold around me but the real sight was the man I wanted to see gazing into my eyes. He never topped pleasuring me even when he was the one doing the work, he made me feel so good that night. He made me climax right before him and as he waved his hand the flames receded to the pit and continued to burn. With us embracing the sun began to rise.

“that really was a magical endeavor callum, thank you.” he couldn’t hear as he had fallen asleep, I parted his and kissed his forehead and nuzzled up to him feeling his heartbeat as we slumbered well into the day.

[iloveshippingkitty]

Prinxiety - Camisado

Okay so this is inspired by the P!ATD song of the same name Human College AU

Trigger Warning: ABUSE (PARENTAL ABUSE OF CHILD), HOSPITALS, BLOOD, BEING PHYSICALLY SICK

IF ANY OF THOSE WILL UPSET OR TRIGGER YOU DON'T READ PLEASE

The IV and your hospital bed, this was no accident, this was a therapeutic chain of events. -

Roman sat by his grandmother talking to her, she had had a fall but was okay. Only a twisted ankle but she was old enough that they made sure she was okay with each fall.

His grandmother, Julie, was great company and they talked about college.

“How is your thesis going, Prince? Good?” Julie asked and Roman nodded, the nickname he wore like a badge came from his grandma distracted from the actual question, “Is that a lie?”

“Yes.. I have slept 4 hours in 2 days.”

“I wish you’d get more. But when does your thesis have to be in?”

“Two weeks.” “You’ll be around for Pumpkin Pie after and then we can have your special hot chocolate.” Julie said. This wasn’t a request.

“Yes I will.” He confirmed thinking fondly on special hot chocolate (hot chocolate with Magic Stars and whiskey in to help him sleep). Then he saw someone get rushed down the hall on a gurney, a guy he thought he knew.

“Anyway, Prince, how’s that friend of yours?” Julie decided to distract a morbidly curious Roman from checking out whoever it was.

“Which, grandma? I do have more than one.” Roman looked back at her with a slight snark to his look, knowing exactly what she was doing and not quite minding but in her hastiness had been vague.

“You know, that Jason boy.”

“You know that isn’t his actual name don’t you? It’s a nickname to do with Heathers.” Prince laughed. Someone regularly nicknamed as Anxiety (and not so often nicknamed JD/Jason from Heathers) was what he would class as frenemy in his college. They had a thing for competing to be heard when they had opposing opinions which what he later found out was quite a surprise to other people. They had only ever known Anxiety to be fairly quiet but with a quick wit. Roman liked that he made Anxiety come out of himself a bit more even if it annoyed him that the guy went on an entire rant of why optimism was ‘dangerous’. And annoyed him even more that he caught and called Roman out on the fact he was looking at him a lot and blushing during an argument. Not like he liked him like that. No. Not at all.

“Oh, what is his name then, sweetheart?”

“… Actually I don’t know. We all call him Anx for Anxiety.” He responds to which Julie gives him a pointed look, “What? We don’t know his name. It’s what he introduces himself as. He really sets himself up for pessimism. You know what he said in a debate against me the other day? That optimism is ‘dangerous’. I mean can you believe it. He has so much he could feel good about. People would kill for hair like his. He’s born with a talent for picking up stuff, he’s witty, people don’t dislike him by any means and he’d have more friends if he only spoke a little more.” 

Julie’s pointed look intensifies but as he doesn’t notice she realises the poor Roman must have quite the crush. Unaware to his own ranting and her attitude, she laughed.

That’s when he finally looked at her, “He’s right you know, Prince. Optimism, while definitely necessary, can be dangerous. You don’t know his home life, sweetheart. You were incredibly lucky to be born into a family that you never even had to come out to, that we’ve all been lucky enough to not struggle through losses and diseases more than our family can take. And even when my Alan died, rest his soul, he died quickly and peacefully. And I know you know that but I think you sometimes forget that not everyone will have all those things. His family may not be nice, he may be or have been ill. Felt loss to such an extent that it takes his initial optimism and crushes it. Because sometimes life does that to people.” 

Roman had known his fair share of difficulties but a great support network he had always been lucky to have. He had not thought of those things before and his heart went out to Anxiety, suddenly curious to know his actual name …also whereabouts to see if he was okay.

The distraction although slightly upsetting to Roman had worked ….up until the screaming started.

Down the corridor, 4 doors down across from them, loud screaming started instantaneously, echoing.

A code and a name was said over the tannoy and more professionals made their way into the room and sitting up straight, he gave a wide-eyed look to Julie. Julie, knowing his chivalrous side had felt the call to someone so distraught and wanted to fix it. That’s all he wanted to do. She put a soft hand on his and knowing what it meant he sat back more relaxed, even if a little forced.

A minute or so later the screaming stops and a further 5 minutes after that Julie nudged him to urge him to go see who it was. The look she gave he knew he was to follow the rules of “be quick, non-intrusive and at least attempt to keep to himself”. Quietly he gave her a soft smile and walked away down the corridor to look through the door window. There sat a half-laying, shaken, head over a disposable sick-bowl was undoubtedly Anxiety. Roman had seen him earlier that day, he swore he could feel his heart breaking as he realised it had been him screaming.

He nearly walked in then remembered how worried his grandma would be if he didn’t go back and tell her why he was going to be a while so off he headed back.

“It’s Anxiety, grandma, he’s here. He was the one screaming. I have to make sure he’s okay.” He quickly told her and with a nod each he headed back then knocked on the door, wanting to enter but not wanting to intrude.

Anxiety looks up and it takes a moment for Roman to recognise him. His face is swollen on one side, he’s bleeding a lot from a few different cuts and his fear is evident upon his face until he recognises the knocker. Then he lets tears fall and indicates him to come in.

“Suppose there’s no hiding this is there.” Anxiety groans, his words slurred. Then he realises the tears are of shame. Whatever has happened to Anxiety, it happens to him on a regular basis. Enough that rather than his worry being about his own health, he worries that Roman will tell the others almost like he’d tell them and.laugh. To that Roman’s heart drops into his stomach.

“No, Anx. No there’s not.” He replies solemnly. There’s something about Roman’s tone that makes Anx look up. He can tell even without his saying so that Roman won’t tell people, there was just no more hiding it from him. This was backed up by him asking, “How? Who? What? Why? When? Where? …. Okay, no.. I’m back with my brain. Who did this and where can I find and vanquish them?”

“Okay, I don’t think anyone has used the word vanquish since the 19th Century.” Anxiety barked out a laugh seeped with pain then continued, “It’s pretty obvious how, if it’s not evident I got beat to a pulp with anything in reach I think he’d take a second stab at it. As for why, it’s because he had a ‘woman of the night’ around which I obviously knew nothing of and so when I showed up at home he wanted to teach me a lesson. Which is ironic considering he’s beat me for going to college too so there seems to be no end to the madness. But honestly? I think it’s cos when mum died my dad had had nothing to do with us and would rather it had stayed that way. Now that I know what he’s like, me too.”

Prince felt figuratively sick to his stomach. Anxiety was literally sick.

The initial worry for Anxiety had not only been correct but the reality of it all was far worse. He wanted to hold the poor guy until everything was okay again. But he couldn’t. He felt helpless. Then with a moment of maturity he realised there was no point worrying how he could be of help without asking Anxiety exactly what he needed.

This is when Anxiety’s face conveyed only horror and he shifted back whilst sat in the bed. It made him look more like a terrified child than a worried young man.

“What’s up?”

“He doesn’t know where I am, does he?” He finally uttered.

Prince gawped like a fish.

“He does, he does. He’s going to come up and finish me off. Please Roman. Keep me safe.” Anxiety grasps his hand and stares him in the eyes.

While trying to calm him down, a nurse walks in, looks over them and walks to another patient. Roman can feel his skin crawl from the look but he can’t tell if the nurse is judging them or is analysing Anx. Both make him feel uneasy.

Brushing his thumb on the top of Anxiety’s hand seems to help him feel calmer. Then the nurse finishes with a patient and the day collapses in on itself.

“Due to your medical insurance running out, you are going to be transferred. Expect your bill within 30 days.” They say apathetically.

Roman can’t help himself.

“WHAT?!” He shouts. To which Anxiety tenses and he realises what he’s done wrong and turns to him.and apologises, “I’m sorry. I won’t be loud again.”

“It’s fine, I want to shout too. But my ribs are broken, thanks dad, and I don’t know how much damage it will do.” Anx smiles softly then adds, “so quoting Professor Lin, ‘indoor voices please’.“

They quietly laugh at that. They turn to find the nurse having left. The worry seeped from Anx and he gave Roman’s hand a small squeeze. At that he looked back at Anxiety meeting each others eyes. He could drown and stay stuck in his amber eyes.

“So…”

“I can’t afford another hospital bill.”

Roman thought on it all a moment, “…Mum’s a surgery GP so if you want you can stay at mine until we can find you an apartment.”

“You mean till I feel better?”

“…No. Not really. I mean, until you get an apartment. I’m not letting that guy back into your life.” Roman said, knowingly.

“I wouldn’t want to take your space,” replies Anxiety, looking at their hands instead.

“You wouldn’t.” He defends then pauses and thinks about how and why he may feel like that, “I mean if you feel like that we can find elsewhere or a friend is moving out the flatshare so you could always join. If you want?”

“Really? You wouldn’t hate it?”

“Hate it? I’d love it, Anx.”

With that, Roman tries to help him up. Unfortunately with the hospital gown it shows all the scars on his back, arms and legs. His heart went out to Anx and he tried his best to be gentle. As Anx tried to stand he could feel the pain radiating over his ribs and his mind flew back to his dad. The big bald man standing over him, surrounded by glass, in the fetal position, with his big boots stomping on the side of his torso. Again. And again. And again.

“Anx?” Prince asked softly. Half way up Anx had stopped in a daze. Then flinched a few times and he knew he would have to bring Anx out of it. Anx could hear him but he couldn’t find the ways to respond “Anx, look at me.”

When he knew Anx was trying but couldnt do it he brought hisself down to be eye to eye.

Roman put a hand through the young man’s soft hair, pushing it away from his eyes as he told him, “I will protect you. I promise. I promise I will. You’re amazing and brilliant and the highlight of my day but you need someone to take your fights. And we can do this together. I promise.”

Very slowly Anx’s eyes stopped glazing over and he looked more with it and after processing what was said he blushed and without a word rested his forehead on Roman’s and hummed. Finally, he spoke, “You’re like a knight.”

“Excuse me, I’m quite obviously a prince. A disney prince at that.”

“Haha, fine, Princey.. Wait, I’m the highlight of your day?”

Roman blushed deeply, “I mean, yeah. I.. Uh.. Think you’re great.”

Anxiety actually laughed, “I think you’re great too.. Princey.”

“Lets get you dressed and discharged shall we? Then we can talk about how great you think I am.” Prince finally remembered where they were and very slowly and a few winces involved, they stood properly. “So, how great do you think I am?”

“You haven’t got any confidence problems, do you, Roman?”

“The cutest guy I know told me he thinks I’m great, how could I possibly have a problem with that?” They smile at each other then Roman goes to tell his grandma that he’s taking Anx home to which she winks as Anx gets the clothes from the bedside table and goes to the bathroom to change.

Meeting him out in the hall, Anx leans on Roman and intertwines their hands once more as they head out.