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just-come-baek · 4 years ago

Text

out to lunch

Pairing: cooking show chef!xiaojun x personal assistant!reader

Themes: smut

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: You come over to the kitchen set of Xiaojun’s cooking show to tell him you managed to get him what he had always dreamed of. However, once you reveal the big news, you discover his priorities have changed, and right now, the only thing he wants to do is you.

A/N support WayV lol | writing this for neosmutcollective mini wayv event

Xiaojun was utterly immersed in his world. Though it was already late at night, he was still behind the kitchen counter, chopping ingredients with his favorite knife. Right now, Xiaojun was in his element, oozing precision and determination to perfect his new recipe, and it somewhat felt like a sin to interrupt him.

You had big news to deliver, though. Having heard you out, Xiaojun would surely forgive you for your disruption. He had to. After all, you just managed to get him that cooking book contract he had always dreamed of.

Ever since you two had started working together, it was your goal to make Xiaojun a published author. Though he already owned three restaurants and starred in his own cooking show, Xiaojun was insatiable. The more fame and recognition he got, it was never enough.

You cleared your throat to obtain his attention, but it didn’t quite pull him out of his trance, so you decided to give him an extra minute.

Xiaojun looked incredibly attractive in his own habitat. In his white uniform and ridiculously big chef hat, Xiaojun looked like a whole damn Michelin three-star dish. No wonder he kept beating his viewing records with each new episode. People all across the country swooned over his culinary talent, incredible charisma, and breathtaking looks.

Having approached the kitchen counter, you knocked on the marble surface in hopes of obtaining his attention.

“Earth to Xiaojun,” you softly spoke, looking at his face. Apparently, the timing couldn’t have been worse as Xiaojun dropped his knife on the cutting board and swung it onto the floor, making a huge mess.

“What do you want!? Don’t you see I’m busy!?” Xiaojun barked before he turned around to get a clean set of kitchen utensils. “Get lost. I don’t want to talk to you,” he added, waving his hand at you, trying to chase you out of the kitchen space.

“Ugh, for the love of God, Xiaojun! How many times have we had this conversation? That diva tone doesn’t work on me,” you answered firmly, staring into his eyes, challenging him. His gaze was intense, his jaw was tensed, but you just smiled at him, ignoring his shenanigans altogether. It wasn’t the first time he lashed out at you, and you knew how to handle him.

“Okay, fine. What is it?” Xiaojun huffed, giving in. With his arms folded across his chest, he tapped his foot against the floor, impatiently waiting for the news.

“I got you that book offer. You’re gonna be a published author,” you exclaimed, ready to jump up and down in joy. However, Xiaojun didn’t seem to be particularly excited. “What’s the matter? Isn’t it what you’ve always wanted? I don’t get it,” you spoke, creasing your eyebrow in confusion, trying to read his bizarre expression.

Xiaojun seemed indifferent at best.

“Cancel it. Undo it. I won’t write it,” Xiaojun replied before he proceeded back to his previous task. It wasn’t wise to disturb him now, so you waited until all vegetables were neatly cubed and thrown into a bowl.

“Can you tell me what’s going on? I don’t understand. I thought you’ve always wanted it,” you inquired, trying a much calmer approach. Xiaojun didn’t use his knife now, but he was still holding it, and it wouldn’t be the first time someone earned a cut during a heated argument in the kitchen.

“I have,” Xiaojun replied with a deep sigh as he poured the chicken broth over the vegetables. “But it gets tiring, you know��” he added, as he took off his chef hat and threw it on the countertop, running his hand through his hair. “Everything is happening too fast. I thought I wanted it, but now, when I actually live that life, I realized I am not cut out for this.”

It was heart-breaking to listen to it. You two had been working very hard to get Xiaojun where he is right now, only to come to a conclusion it’s all wrong. Fame was a heavy cross to bear, and Xiaojun was slowly stumbling under its weight.

“Don’t tell me you want to quit,” you whispered, anxious to know the answer. Xiaojun’s eyes were trained on you, and you could see how tired he was. “How about you take it easy from now on instead of quitting it all together? It would be a shame to quit right at the finishing line,” you reasoned, hoping Xiaojun would consider it.

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s talk about it, okay?” you interjected before Xiaojun would impulsively ruin his career. “We’ve got only three more episodes to shoot. I could put you on hiatus until you decide you want to continue with another season. In the meantime, you could work on the cooking book at your own pace. Probably, I will make you record some cooking content on social media to keep you circulating on the web, so people won’t forget you. Except for that, your schedule would be clear to focus on whatever you need to focus on.”

Silence.

Xiaojun was staring at his chef hat, pondering your damn good points. When you put it like that, it was hard to say no. Besides, he had a feeling you would talk back instantly if he found faults in your argumentation.

Seconds passed without Xiaojun’s response. You were his voice of reason; he had to listen to you. Besides, not only was his career on the line. If he actually quitted, your superior would murder you. Xiaojun was the cash cow of the company; they couldn’t afford to lose him. He was at their rising star.

“Why do you always know what to say?” Xiaojun rhetorically asked, and you beamed, ready to grace him with an answer.

“I’m really good at my job,” you pointed out proudly. Thanks to your impeccable management and problem-solving capabilities, you managed to help Xiaojun rise to the top. “And also, I care about you. Sometimes, you’re a pain in the ass, but after all, you’re a good person. You are my friend, and I want you to be happy.”

“Fine, let’s do it your way. But we’re not shooting another season until I say so,” Xiaojun caved, smiling brightly at you. “You know what I really want to do, though?” He challenged as he rested his elbow on the counter, straightening his back, trying to appear taller and overall more confident.

His voice was quiet, and it suspiciously sounded as if he told “you.”

Shaking your head, you asked, “what?”

Xiaojun felt a sudden wave of confidence rush through him before he repeated himself clearly. No, there was no shred of doubt. You heard him loud and clear. Confidently, Xiaojun admitted that he really want to do was you.

“You seriously think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?” Xiaojun spoke in a somewhat accusing tone, eyeing you from head to toe before he took a cautious step toward you. Intimidated, you took a step backward, and that timid action made Xiaojun smirk.

He knew exactly what type of effect he had on you. All memories of lingering glances you had stolen of him when you had believed he hadn’t been looking came back rushing to you. You weren’t as sly and discreet as you thought you were.

“It really flatters me,” Xiaojun teased with a smug smile. “Don’t deny it, and come here,” he urged, spreading his arms, waiting for you to run into him.

At first, you were sure Xiaojun was just messing with your head. You believed he was teasing you. You imagined him flick your forehead if you walked into his personal space. It was obvious he was mocking you. There was no way in hell that he wanted you the way you wanted him. You must’ve been seeing things.

“Jesus, woman! Hurry the fuck up,” Xiaojun warned you, losing his patience. “If you’re not coming here, I am coming there,” he added, giving you one last chance for a change of heart. “Screw it,” he cursed, surging forward, trapping you in his tight embrace.

His actions spoke louder than words. All your previous thoughts were gone; Xiaojun wouldn’t have bothered this much to pull a prank on you. He was genuine. Xiaojun held you still in his arms, waiting for you to make a move. He would never try anything without your permission, regardless of how delicious your lips looked.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, and you rushed, smashing your lips against his in a passionate kiss. It was everything you imagined it to be, but tenfold better. You had fantasized about his moment plenty of times, and weirdly enough, Xiaojun’s mouth somehow felt both soft and rough at the same time. “Now, we’re talking.”

You two completely lost it. Hands were running on your bodies as you engaged in a heated moment, relieving your much maddening frustration. It felt amazing, and you wished you could carry on until you both lose all your energy.

“Let’s go to my place,” you mumbled once you pulled away. Xiaojun still held you pressed against him as he waited for you to elaborate, being painfully clueless to your ulterior motive. “It’s much closer from here than yours,” you added, and Xiaojun only smiled dumbly, waiting for you to word your request in an even more ridiculous way.

“Why bother going anywhere when I can have you here?” Xiaojun playfully announced, giggling as his gaze shifted from your gorgeous eyes to the countertop. Almost instantly you realized what his crazy proposition was. Did you really want your first time with him to be on the kitchen island inside the cooking show set? It would be a blatant lie if you said you had never considered this.

“Fuck me then,” you urged, giving Xiaojun permission to ruin you right there.

Xiaojun didn’t waste any time. In an instant, he wrapped his arms around your thighs as he picked you up and gently sat down on the countertop. Except for your pencil skirt, your legs were bare, so you let out a slight hiss once you felt the cold marble against your skin.

Biting your lips, you spread your legs, letting Xiaojun stand right between them.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about fucking you here,” Xiaojun confessed before he leaned forward, stealing another desperate kiss. “You remember that time when we fought over the Oreo cake? I was so hard back then. I wanted to bend you over the counter so bad. I almost didn’t hold myself back.”

“You should’ve gone for it,” you whispered as you remembered that quarrel. That night Xiaojun had been the star of your fantasies when you used your vibrating friend to get yourself off. “I was so horny then. Almost as horny as right now,” you added, pulling him by his funny black tie, melting into yet another kiss.

Xiaojun was getting impatient. It was nice, but it wasn’t enough for him. Having untangled the knot of his apron, he yanked it off his hips, throwing it over his shoulder.

“I want to feel you so bad,” he murmured as he slid his fingers under your skirt, pulling your panties down your legs. “Let me prep you up,” Xiaojun uttered when his digits gently fondled your folds, gliding his knuckle inside of you. The moment you felt him, you let out a quiet moan, enjoying his little ministrations.

Xiaojun knew how to please a woman. He curled his fingers inside of you, stretching you out for his length. With your eyes shut closed, you focused on your pleasure, letting Xiaojun spoil you rotten. Though it was just mere petting, it felt nice as hell. He was getting you ready for his cock, and you basked in simple delight.

“Enough of that; I want you to fuck me now,” you kindly spoke, wrapping your palm around his wrist. “Please,” you added when you noticed how hesitant Xiaojun was of letting go. He planned on making you come first before properly fucking you with his cock, but since you asked him nicely, he decided to give you exactly what you wanted. Though he’d love to tease you some more, your pleading tone seemed to do the thing.

Swiftly, he yanked down his pants, revealing his member. It was standing proud, and you looked down at it, admiring it. Without any doubt, Xiaojun was to make your day.

As much as you wanted to return the favor, Xiaojun didn’t let you. Impatiently, he gave himself a few strokes before he aligned his cock with your entrance, rubbing its tip against your folds. Slowly, he pushed his hard length inside of you, making you groan.

Your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened as Xiaojun filled you up with his erection. At first, Xiaojun maintained a slow and steady rhythm. However, as you kept moaning his name and encouraging him to go faster, his thrusts became more rapid. Quickly, Xiaojun snapped his hips, finding your sweet spot in record time.

“Holy shit,” you exclaimed, feeling the knot inside of you tighten. You were moments away from your peak. Xiaojun’s cock stroked all the right places, pushing you off the edge. “Fuck, I am coming,” you shouted, kicking your head backward, welcoming the bliss that ripped through you.

When you were slowly descending back on Earth, Xiaojun kept chasing his release.

You could feel him throb inside of you. Then, an idea crossed your mind. Until now, it was Xiaojun who did all the work, so the least you could do was to encourage him to fill you up, to talk him through his orgasm.

“You fill me up so well. I came on your cock, and you’re still rock-hard. Do you want me to come again?” You complimented him, spilling filth. Though you weren’t sure if Xiaojun would be into dirty talk, you were certain he was eating it all up. Xiaojun was moaning your name as he snapped his hips, falling out of his even rhythm.

Xiaojun was near. His grip on your thighs tightened as he pounded inside of you, being only a few strokes away from his sweet bliss.

“Come inside of me,” you urged him. It was all it took to make him reach his peak. With a choked grunt, Xiaojun came, buckling his hips as he painted your walls with his release.

You remained silent as Xiaojun breathed heavily, trying to come back to his senses.

“If we’re ever doing it, here, again, I want you to spank me with this,” you commented as you reached for the spatula that sat on the other side of the counter. Xiaojun smirked upon seeing the kitchen utensil, tempted to try it out soon.

However, on second thought, tonight was just good as any other day.

“How about we take it with us over to your place,” Xiaojun proposed, and you cocked your eyebrow, excited to hear his suggestion. “Let’s get you cleaned up first,” he added as he bent down to pick up his apron. His release was dripping down your thighs, so he wiped it off with the fabric, looking rather pleased by the fact that you let him come inside of you.

“That sounds like a plan.”

#xiaojun smut #wayv smut #neosmutcollective #nsckickback #nct smut #xiaojun drabble #wayv drabble #nct drabble

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lisinfleur · 4 years ago

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Things I do for her

The request:

Author’s Notes | I hope you can forgive me for how long it took to be ready. Loved this piece! I hope you guys like it too! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Alfred x Ivar’s Sister Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by anon for 5CW Ivar II, posted for HTGI Event Words | 1246 ⁑ Warnings: None

"I could marry him."

She saw him what? Twice in a lifetime?

And there was my little sister: wanting to solve a whole conflict between Englishmen and our men by marrying that thin rag of a man the English had the guts to call "The Great".

Beyond the phlegm of looking me in the eye and smiling at that idea, I couldn't see what else in Alfred was really that great.

"It sounds like a plan to me."

The stupidity, maybe.

"Are you suggesting you would marry my sister for an alliance with my people, is that it?" I asked in disbelief.

"I'm saying I think her idea is pretty good once it would not only avoid unnecessary slaughtering between our people but, perhaps, establish a solid relationship between our crowns, my friend."

I'm not your friend! Don't call me "friend"! I wanted so bad to cut his belly open right there!

But Y/N was smiling so proud of herself and the recognition she was receiving from that stupid smile on his face... I couldn't do it.

Although it would be a pleasurable end for that content - definitely a thousand times better than seeing my sister getting married to that thin stick of a king! - I couldn't be the one responsible for the tears I would see in Y/N's eyes for him.

It was true that she never stopped babbling about Alfred since the first time she saw his slender figure.

"Have you seen his pale tone?"

"His hair is so beautiful!"

"Oh, he has a sweet smile!"

"His voice is so peaceful."

Fucking shit.

More praises and I would stab my own ears not to spend my time hearing about that Christian prince.

I knew her heart. Y/N's could have my eyes and my traces, but she wasn't like me. We were the perfect opposites, and I knew it!

She was placidity where I was wrath. Her eyes were the blue sky of a sunny day, while mine were the thin blue of the furious sea. And I knew it.

Her place wasn't beside me.

And, although it would hurt me forever, I knew it.

"What grants me my sister won't end up being burned like a witch by your superstitions bunch of Christians you call a people? uh?"

I knew it! But I wouldn't give up on her so easily!

"First of all, I'll make her the Queen of Wessex, which is already reason enough for her to be safe from the peasants," Alfred started.

"You're gonna have to give me more than that if you want me to trust you, my friend," I mocked the words. "You're asking me to give you my most precious treasure in exchange for something I could easily get by cutting your throat and slaughtering your men. Besides sparing me from the pleasure of the bloodshed, you're asking me to trust you will care for my sister and keep her safe the same way I have been doing since our father was killed. By your grandfather, by the way!" I remembered.

"Which is nothing but the second reason in my arguments, my friend. Ivar, we have been at war with each other since before we were born. Our fathers were enemies, our grandfathers before them would've been. But I'm not my father nor my grandfather. I recognize my ancestors wronged yours. And unlike them, I'm up to fix these mistakes."

"Go on," I said, bothered.

But interested in what he had to say.

He giggled, noticing my boredom.

"I've tried this first with the Danes and your brother Ubbe. But his power wasn't the same as it is yours. He wasn't the king of Kattegat. You are."

Massaging my ego won't make you come closer to my sister's skirt, my friend... I wanted to say that. But Y/N was there, beside me in my chariot. I didn't want to be... Unpolite.

"And from a king to another, I know your people want the lands I have idle around my town. I know your people have techniques that could increase our production. And I know pretty well, from my experience among the Danes, that our people can coexist. A marriage like this could turn real the dreams of your father and my own."

"And what are these dreams you call your own, King Alfred?" I asked, curious. "I know my father's dreams your kind many times has tried to use against us, to manipulate our people into believing in your God and the false promises of the same land you promise me now. But I know no dream of yours... Clarify me."

"What are the dreams of a king other than making his kingdom the greater, King Ivar?" he answered me.

Showing me some of that ambition I thought he didn't have behind that peaceful facade.

"Your people have been showing your military superiority throughout the years. Mine has the fields necessary to feed the armies, materials, and resources to supply them, the finest smithery to increase your power... Follow my thoughts, king Ivar. We've been fighting for years. What could we do together?"

Here was a fire I wasn't expecting to see inside that man's eyes. I leaned my head, looking at him with surprise.

And I rose my hand, mutely ordering my men to lower their weapons.

"I think you have something in mind that might interest me enough to make this matter something I want to discuss longer. Let us propose a truce among our men, my friend. Set the chess table for two and let us talk about these ideas of yours."

Alfred smiled, and so did my sister. His smile was full of hope. Hers was full of an amount of passion I didn't want to see in my sister's eyes towards a Christian.

"But I have to advise you..." I warned. "Do not invite me into your home planning a trap, my fellow king. I may have a huge army behind me, but I'm more than enough alone to make you pay for breaking my trust."

He knew I wasn't kidding. And Y/N knew I wasn't doing that by my own will.

But what would she ask me to do that I wouldn't do with a smile on my face? Uh?

"The truce is settled then," Alfred declared.

His men inverted the spears around us, showing the flags instead of the spikes as a sign we wouldn't make war.

My men did the same as I sighed on my chariot.

"We'll see each other again tomorrow," Alfred stated. "At the dawn, in my castle."

With what I agreed, although it was clear I wasn't willingly giving up on that fight.

"Chamomile, and wildflowers," I said, getting Alfred confused for an instant before I turned my chariot, looking at him from upon my shoulder. "Sweetened with honey. It's her favorite," I completed.

Rolling my eyes at the way Alfred's smile became a mirror of happiness reflecting my sister's blushed cheeks.

Fuck.

It would be hard to get used to how delicate my brother-in-law would be.

"Thank you, brother," Y/N's voice echoed right before her warm lips kissed my cheek.

Her body bouncing on her heels in that habit she inherited from our older brother Hvitserk to show up when she was happy.

I sighed. It would be hard indeed.

But it was for her.

I could change the whole Midgard for her.

I could do it.

For her.

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#history vikings #imagine vikings #ivar #alfred #ivar the boneless #alfred the great #ivar imagine #alfred imagine #alfred x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar's heathen army #sister wives #htgi #shot

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years ago

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 27)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: The usual

A/N: The wait for today for me was so fucking awful. It’s not that I don’t like these chapters (I do, even if I am a bit insecure about them, but I always am lol) I am writing like 5 chapters ahead already, and I wanna get theeeeere.

But alas, I need to be patient, and not bombard you with updates lol. Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss @psych0crybaby @revolution-starter

Ivar tells you on the morning that tonight the plan on what to do with the information scouts -and Ubbe’s pointless trip North- have provided will be discussed. He never asks you to be there, or tells you to, or even hints at you having permission to; but he doesn’t have to.

You meet with him outside, and walk together to the spacious room where the tables for the men are always set with food and drink, it seems. As soon as you both walk in, Ubbe speaks out from his place at the table, calling his brother’s name.

“I had some of our spies monitor the situation, it seems you and your wit-…and Y/N were right. Stithulf’s forces move for Strepshire with sureness now.” Ubbe states as Ivar takes a seat.

Ivar accepts his words with a proud, almost arrogant smile on his lips, and nods his head in acknowledgement of his older brother’s words. Before resting his crutch on the table, Ivar uses it to push back the chair at his side, motioning for you. You take the seat and smile your greetings to Hvitserk and the others.

The older Prince continues, “I will take responsibility of the ambush, we will cut down their numbers.”

Ivar agrees silently, a practiced ease in the brothers’ interactions telling you these are not the first times they behave like equals when waging war. You can only hope this lasts.

“Prince Ubbe,” You speak out hesitantly, and when the older man looks at you with hardness and distrust, you try telling yourself you feel a courage you don’t really have, “Stithulf has Arab mercenaries in his camp. I know their ways of war. Their army is feared in my homeland, they use tricks and their own dead so that when the time comes, their champions can…kill easily.”

One of the warriors at the table laughs at your words, and it is only then that you realize your conversation with the Prince was not as private as you thought.

“Vikings don’t die easily, my Queen.” The man boasts, answered with a few raised cups and answering chuckles.

Suddenly aware of so many eyes upon you, you tighten your hands into fists under the table and swallow past a dry mouth, but still insist to the Prince,

“You have seen them fight, Ubbe. If there’s a reason the Saxons held the siege on Dublin for as long as they did is because they counted on Arab and Greek forces making them unpredictable. They no longer have the Greeks, but don’t underestimate the Arabs, Stithulf will still count on them to face you and your warriors.”

After a few moments of silence, the Prince nods, and drinks deeply from his cup before saying, “I said I would value your counsel, and I will,” Ubbe lifts the cup to you in recognition, “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Ubbe.” You say around a small smile, nervousness taking over you once a brief silence settles over the men and women around you.

“How far from Strepshire do your spies say the Saxons are now?” Ivar asks his brother, and when Ubbe replies with certain words about the paths taken and the travel times, Ivar nods resolutely, turning to the rest of the table when speaking again, “We must move for Strepshire then, raid the city while the Saxons are focused on Ubbe and his men, so that they can’t aid each other.”

“Attacking that city would leave us vulnerable, my King. Too many were lost, it won’t be victory if we lose more.” One of their men quips, tattooed hands wrapped around a leg of lamb.

“If the Saxon army takes over it won’t be a victory either.” The King argues, his temper rising a bit. The man argues firmly against this, even if a with a bit of fear and the tension of someone that expects an explosion of rage or something else, but soon enough his attention is on another man that starts debating him.

Making use of the conversations that start, you lean closer to Ivar, calling for his attention silently by putting your hand over his.

Ivar turns to you without hesitation, eyes on yours in an instant, and it makes a small smile pull at your lips. He turns his hand around and traps yours before you can pull away though, and that simple action makes you lose your breath for a moment.

A murmur of your name on his lips brings your focus back to the present matters at hand, and leaning closer you argue quietly,

“Stithulf wants you, more than anything. You know this.”

You hope he can see what you mean: Don’t be a reckless idiot, please.

He offers you a smile, his eyes like Greek Fire igniting yours and his voice just as quiet as he says, “Don’t get your hopes up, wife. Better men have tried to kill me and failed.”

Hvitserk calls forth attention by leaning towards his brother and calling his name; and even past the distance the table where you dine puts between the brothers his focus remains solely on Ivar.

His eyes are firm, his tone certain, when he says,

“Give me two weeks. Ubbe will find him and keep him occupied. He cannot get to Strepshire or call for aid in that time. Two weeks, Ivar.”

There’s something in the certainty with which Hvitserk talks that makes you think he already knows something, he already has more than half a plan. Your eyes jump between him and Ivar, and you think the whole table is holding its breath waiting for the answer as well.

But the King argues swiftly, gesturing with the hand not on yours, “What do you want time for? We have been watching from afar for way too long.”

“Trust me on this matter.” The Prince beseeches, even if his voice is strong and unwavering.

You hold your breath, your heart beating and breaking for the two brothers and hoping by grace of your Gods and theirs that Ivar agrees, that he recognizes his brother’s smarts not only to you in secret, or to himself alone, but to the man that loves him and will stand by his side past everything.

Whatever breached the brothers before Ivar got to the throne has partly healed, you see it in the cautious ways they move around each other, uncertain on where they stand. But they still struggle. For recognition, for dominance, for victory, you don’t know. You do know Hvitserk is a good man, a good brother, and he deserves to hear praise, he deserves to feel valued; and that he wants for Ivar to recognize his sacrifice like little else.

You are certain Ivar can feel your gaze on him, and in his profile you see the conflict, the reluctance to relent on this secret war he wages with everyone -especially his brothers- as to feel equal to them. After a few breaths of tense and defining silence, you hear,

“Fine. Two weeks, brother.” Ivar grits out, eyes set firmly on his brother, and you cannot keep your smile from blossoming, wide and stupid. Almost immediately you feel Ivar’s fingers pinch at the back of your hand, a silent command to school your features.

You do, but not before squeezing tightly at his hand in yours. A thanks in behalf of his brother, a recognition of what he did means to all three sons of Ragnar, a promise of how proud you are.

You let go quickly enough, and reach for the goblet of mead, drinking deeply and sharing a smile with Hvitserk across the table, who still looks a little stunned.

The discussion dies shortly after, but even if the spirits of the warriors here are quieter, calmer; you don’t need the guidance of the Gods to see Ivar’s impatience and stubbornness bubbling underneath his skin.

As his brothers and the warriors leave the hall, instead of returning to your rooms you decide to remain with the King for a while longer.

Walking in silence to the chair where the Viking sits, you give yourself courage and lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Annoying, is it not?” You ask, a smile teasing at your lips. Ivar turns his head to look up at you. You still delight yourself in the softness that seems to take over his features when he focuses on you.

“What is?” He asks, quietly.

“Being forced to listen to voices other than your own.” You tease, breathing a laugh when he acknowledges your joke at his expense with the grimace of a purposely fake smile.

“You think yourself funny.” He grumbles, gaze back on the burning embers by one of the doors.

“Enough to get you not to be so angry, yes.” You dare venture, ignoring the rush of warmth that flows from your hand all the way to your chest when Ivar places rough fingers over your hand on his shoulder.

“You make me angry all the time.” He argues, the softness in his voice betraying the intended bite. With his hand holding yours, you catch a moment of hesitation before he brings your hand to his mouth and carefully, cautiously, breathes a kiss over the back of your hand.

Warmth fills your chest as you find yourself catching more and more glimpses of the almost shy, uncertain but captivated man beneath the mantle of the Viking King.

“But it’s the good kind of angry, isn’t it?” You ask, bending at the waist and leaning closer to his profile with what you know is an annoyingly satisfied grin.

The Viking simply scoffs in response, “You are insufferable.”

“I have been told that before.” You offer in response, your smile growing softer when he gives your hand a soft squeeze before letting go.

You are almost to the doors when Ivar calls your name. Still not used to the thrill of hearing it in his voice, with his accent, you turn around and face him.

He doesn’t look at you, but you see his profile, drawn tight and tense. It makes worry settle at the pit of your stomach.

“What can I do for you?” You ask quietly, wanting to walk closer but feeling unsure.

“Stay.” Ivar bites out, his voice almost strangled and the request sounding like a command. Still, you know it means quite a lot for him to ask something out of you, so you walk closer.

“Of course.”

“Don’t do it because I told you to.” He growls, his head moving with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Again he goes with the explosive vitriol, with thinking too much and growing more and more furious through nothing but his thoughts. You still walk to his side and sit on the chair next to his.

“I’m not. I…like spending time with you. When you are not set on driving me mad, that is.” You offer finally, sharing a smile with him and feeling lighter than you have in years.

Ivar sobers after a moment of silence, and his expression back to being tense, serious, you would dare say troubled as you settle on the seat. This time, you say nothing, waiting for him to speak.

“You are…you don’t have any reason to lie to me,” Ivar grumbles, convincing you both it seems. His fingers go back at staying by his mouth, a nervous gesture born out of not knowing what to do with his hands, you think. There’s reluctant fondness in Ivar’s voice when he speaks next, “And if there’s one woman I have known to not be able to keep her mouth shut, is you.”

“My best and worst quality.” You smile.

When the youngest son of Aslaug turns his eyes back to you, you are starkly reminded of the night you became his wife.

Careful steps bring you closer to him, and his eyes are scared and hopeful and longing and so many things as they search yours. ‘Kiss me’, he had whispered, and you have no doubt it was a surrender.

“I can give you anything you want, if you ask,” He promises, voice low and beseeching. His nose furrows, his teeth bare in a snarl, barely a second but it is still there, his fury at being seen as human, at being vulnerable. Ivar’s eyes burn as they gaze at you when he says, “But never lie to me, never turn your back to me.”

You consider his words in silence, feeling strangely like an oath is being asked out of you, a vow.

“I want the same thing I give,” You state, resolute. “If I give you honesty, I want the same. If you give me trust, I will…give the same.

You don’t fear what it would make out of you to be loyal to Ivar, to pledge to stand by his side, because, vow or no vow, it is exactly what you’ve been doing for a long time now. No, it is not a question of whether or not you can trust him. It is whether he can, whether he can agree to the honesty that comes with friendship, the vulnerability that comes with loyalty.

So, with a quiet voice, you ask, “Do I have your trust, Ivar?”

“You do. Do I have yours?”

It doesn’t feel like he is asking about trust at all, and judging by the hint of fear, hint of something, that shines in Ivar’s pale eyes; you think he thinks that too.

Still, you offer a smile, faint and tremulous.

“Since the beginning,” You confess, and at the slight surprise that lifts his brows you shrug. “I have always had a soft heart, after all.”

____

Soooo, hope you liked it! I would love to know what you think! Thank you so much for reading!

Next chapter is already up (this one and that one were supposed to be one but it was way too fucking long lol)

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #νοσταλγία masterlist

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mxchellesworld · 4 years ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 1

request from this list

kink 6, 24 | dialogue 10

Kylo Ren x Reader

warnings; smut, breeding kink, corruption/innocence kink, mention of blood, injury

a/n: sorry for starting a day late i was so overwhelmed with all the requests flooding in lol, but i am very excited to start this with you horny little monsters! also this is my first time writing for kylo but as an avid star wars fan and prepping by reading some fics im ready to give this a go.

Hope you enjoy :)

***

Stars you must have been going mad. Being a nurse on the starkiller base wasn’t the most noble job but it was a job nonetheless. Your parents were both high ups working on the base since you were born. You had only known the coldness that came with being on a ship devoted to crushing the resistance.

You didn’t have many friends at all, mostly keeping to yourself, trying your hardest to stay under the radar from the supreme leader himself. He was a bit older than you, but you had seen his rise into power. He was known to be nothing but stoic, a hard figure ready to crush anyone who got in his way. Though you had never really seen him. Just during the speeches had you gotten a glimpse of the of the obsidian mask.

It was a normal day in the medical center, tending to those who were recovering from injuries and making sure the place was sanitary should there be an emergency. As you were making your way back to your station a flashing red alarm went off. That only meant one thing, A medical accident in the prestige quarters. You had only hoped it was General Hux or another higher up.

Making your way through the corridor the pit in your stomach was growing. You dreaded the thought of having to tend to Kylo unnerved you. Maybe it was fear? Or maybe it was the feeling pooling in your trousers at the thought of being able to see what was under the mask.

As you reached the quarters the other nurses were rushing to the biggest room at the end of the hall. Kylo’s room. He was pacing back and forth, you noticed the giant red gash on his face, but where your real attention went was to his bright eyes. You were stuck in place until you realized you could see them so clearly because he too was taking in your frame. No matter how tall you were he still towered over you. You instantly looked down as you entered the room. Setting your medical supplies down.

“Master Ren can I ask you to take a seat please,” you let out meekly, sneaking a little glance to make sure he actually heard your voice.

You heard the chair scrape and felt the gust of his long black cape brush past you. His large boot came into your vision you were still looking down. Maker everything about his was enormous. No. You shook yourself out of your thoughts. These weren’t appropriate thoughts to think about someone who could make sure you disappeared in an instant.

Your hands shook as you took out the gauze and sanitary serum to apply on his gash. Looking up you noticed he was watching you intently, almost as if he was trying to read you. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated only showing a small ring of the coffee color irises. He was awfully calm, for what you had heard about him The man mad who ruined control panels with the powerful blazing red saber.

The silence in the room was deafening. His heavy breathes outsounded yours as you tried your best to keep your thoughts at bay.

“Master Ren I’m going to c-clean this up. It might sting so I greatly apologize.” The only sign of recognition of your words was the short grunt he let out. Maker that shot right to your core.

Even sitting he was barley shorther than you, his face at level with your chin. Taking a breath to steady yourself, one hand took his face while the other dabbed the cotton swab on the cut. He let out a hiss at the discomfort and you held that breath.

“Continue,” he said lowly.

You did your best to do your work, minimizing adding onto his discomfort when you felt a sharp pain in your head. You gasped at the feeling, trying to hide the face of shock in order to seem professional. Another while passed and you felt it again. This time accompanied by a voice. It was you. Your thoughts but not your own doing.

You were frozen looking down into his challenging gaze. Your mind flooded with visions of you on your knees, spit dibbling down your chin. Another of you pressed against silk black sheets, the strange feeling of something large in your most private area.

Your hand came up to grasp your head. “What are you doing to me?”

“I felt something deep inside you. These are strange thoughts to be having about your supreme leader. You just seem a little.. innocent.”

You felt the heat radiating off your cheeks. You were sputtering to let out an answer but nothing seemed to be able to come out. Behind this stoic demeanor there was something almost excited in him. Like he was fueled on seeing your humiliation.

“It seems the girl can’t get out any words. Can you?”

“No”

“No, what”

“No master Ren”

He hummed as if pleased with your answer before he continued, “Now care to tell me why such an innocent thing is having these visions?”

By this point he was standing. You were encompassed in his large frame. Looking down at you expecting an answer.

You couldn’t speak. There was nothing you could say to save yourself or to to lessen the amount of embarrassment you felt.

“Still no words.” His hand went and wrapped in your hair. He bent down with you, bringing you down until you were on your knees. “You’re a naive little slut who thinks she can take me.”

You mewled at his words and at the growing pressure from his hand pulling at your scalp. He pulled you closer to his face, sharing a breath as he stared speaking again. “I can ruin you. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, trying your best to nod within his grasp. You hissed as he let go of your hair. Yet you stayed on your knees the evergrowing feeling of wanting to please him blooming in your chest.

“Good” he said lowly. He heard you thinking again. “Take off your uniform.”

Your unsteady hands went down to the little plastic buttons on the top of your long tunic. Reaching down to pull it over your head. Next you kicked off your shoes in order get your pants down your legs. Once you were down to your undergarments you could feel him watching you like a hawk. Eyes scanning your body.

“Get on the bed,” you walked the few feet to the large bed. Dark sheets like the ones in the vision, soft to the touch. He made his way over to you, standing in between in your parted legs. His hand cupping your breast was gentle, strange compared to the harshness of his words.

“You know I can take what I want.” you gulped. “You’d let me fill all your holes with my seed. Taking you like the needy whore you are.” His hands traveled down to your thin panties. Rough hands gripping the fabric before tearing them right off your lower half. He wasted no time in reaching down to cup your heat.

“Already so wet,” he said pushing in a finger. You moaned at the intrusion. Thighs trying to close his hand in where you needed it most. He started to curl it in your tight hole. Hitting the spongy spot that you didn’t even know was there.

“Master Ren please,” you sighed out.

“So desperate to be fucked. So eager.”

You groaned when he removed his fingers. Instantly yelping as he flipped you over. You tried your best to steady your hands, gripping the sheets before what you knew was to come. Then you felt it. His large leaky tip pressed at your entrance. He let out a groan as he sheathed himself fully in your wet walls. You let out a broken scream at feeling. His stretch driving you mad. Before you knew it his hands went to your hips as he started driving in and out.

You could feel your essence dripping down your thighs. The pressure of his massive cock reaching the deepest parts of you. You were a mess of broken moans and curses. His bruising grip never faulting, surly to leave marks later on, tears springing in your eyes due to the mix of pain and pleasure.

“So fucking tight. Just a hole for me to use”

“Kylo please... gonna cum”

You didn’t think you’d be able to cum without any clit simulation but the feeling was just too sweet. He sped up his thrusts, hitting that spot just right, making you see stars brighter than the ones in the sky. The knot in your belly burst. You bit your lip trying to contain the whimpers and almost scream.

His thrusts started to falter as he was close to his end. He reached back into your hair pulling you up. His clothed chest pressing against your nude back.

“Tell me what you want, whore”

“Please fill me with your cum master Ren!”

The groan he let out in your ear doubled with the last harsh thrust in your sensitive pussy was enough of a warning before you felt him spill inside you. He started slowing down trying to ride his high the last he could. You fell forward into the sheets, catching your breath.

You both shared a sigh as he pulled out, tucking himself back in his trousers. The feeling of your mixed releases sticky and leaking out of you.

Turning around you saw he picked up your clothes before setting them next to you on the bed.

“Get back to work,” he said walking out of the room but before making it all the way out he turned and said “I want you back here after your shift”

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #adam driver x reader #adam driver smut #chellewrites #kinktober #dkrkinktober

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thethreemages · 4 years ago

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*rises from the grave to finally deliver on a certain new story arc chapter*

...Heeeey everybody lol I know this may not be something anyone expected in like, ages compared to my other recent TTM-content... but well, ever since my last chapter upload from maaany months ago... I've just continuously kept getting blocked from wanting to get back more into the main story, especially with the influx of developing lore and side casts I've been having fun with a bit more in comparison.

But well, after some more heavy thinking and reworking a bit of how I wanted to frame the next few bits of the story to go (while still keeping relatively faithful to my original concepts)... here's the official next part to keep the main story flowing with some rather "juicy" drama ahead~

((Here's the DA Link for the fic itself in case it gets too cut-off here-))

===========

The eerie stillness of the forest was something all too familiar to those raised around this trek of the woods… but this night in particular was getting all the more “curious” for what semblance of peace was broken left and right....

On one side, a noble prince and a gentle strength mage were connecting all the closer together as they were quietly walking through the woods.

On another, a fiery prince and a gruff healer mage were stumbling into the middle of an ominous find… enough to have stirred up some lingering “threats” following after them.

And finally, as of now… a cunning dark mage was finding herself apprehended by a group she once looked up to, respected, and trusted…

“-I will not say this again! Unhand Me. This. Instant!” Prym Fletcher hissed towards the pair of guards who were roughly escorting her back to the camp, feeling tempted to have blasted them back already with her magic… had it not been for a fierce pair of eyes ordering her to keep still.

“Save it, kid. You’ve snooped upon very classified information against official orders, you’re not leaving our sight.” Taiyin Zhou replied back with a firm tone, “You’re about lucky we haven’t already arrested you as is…”

“Ughhh, I’m telling you I did NOT snoop! I had simply stumbled across your camp by accident!” the young dark mage insisted, her voice already growing exasperated with frustration, “Why won’t you believe me?? I’m Lady Meradyth and Sir Luka’s daughter, for Saint’s sake-!”

Halting in her tracks upon hearing that, Taiyin only turned her head to give a… rather puzzled look, “Sir… Luka? Um, sorry but... no one’s ever been registered in our ranks with that name…”

Rightfully confused as ever by that response, Prym had taken the moment to shove off the guards restraining her as she offendedly exclaimed, “Wait… w-what?? Oh, now this has to be a damn joke… Luka was once one of your top members back in the day! Closest friend to Ivor and my mother Meradyth, what do you mean by ‘never been registered’??”

“-Look, I’ve been here in the Elite for a good number of years, kid... and I think I would know if I was aware of anyone named Luka,” Taiyin furrowed her gaze to Prym in a frustratedly tired way, almost reminding her of one of the strict & overworked teachers back at St. Ravilda’s, “I don’t know what else to tell ya on that front, but we’ll be the ones handling the questions here, thank you very much...”

The younger mage could feel her fists clenching in a rising anger towards this woman’s insensitivity… yet didn’t have time to make another retort as a pair of familiar faces joined to greet them from behind Taiyin.

There stood the imposing General himself, alongside the stoic Alastair who gave a quiet look of disapproval towards his comrade’s harshness to Prym. In the meantime, Ivor’s face seemed to twist with many mixed feelings upon seeing his daughter’s friend. Shock, disappointment, confusion… and perhaps even a bit of fear?

“Prym… what in the Saints’ good names are you doing out here??” Ivor shakily demanded to know, the stern fatherly side of his kicking into high gear as if she were his own child caught in the act, “I told you specifically to stay back at home where it’s safe! Don’t you know what kind of danger you’re putting yourself in, especially at this hour of night within these woods??”

“I… w-well,” Prym struggled at first to find the words, not wanting to risk giving away that Tula and the others were very much out there in the woods too… so, after taking a second to think and compose herself, she retorted back to him with an unamused tone of her own, “Hmpf… I suppose I should be more asking you the same question, Ivor. Don’t think I didn’t hear His Majesty giving you orders to collect this insidious-sounding ‘white plague’ for him… whatever the hell that means for his standards…”

“-Hey, what did I say about watching your tone, kid-!” Taiyin attempted to scold her… only for Alastair to hold up his hand to let the young girl speak her mind. Not exactly expecting Prym to have spun the question onto him now, Ivor gave a conflicted moment of silence… but eventually, an approving look from Alastair encouraged the hulking General the resolve to just admit what’s up, not seeing much else to lose now that she’s already here...

“The… white plague we were speaking of earlier, Prym… is a code name for this strand of white fungal root that had suddenly taken bloom within Graystone. These plants… they’re about the most devastating plant species our country’s faced in these past few decades… once was the stuff of legends within our oldest history books, but then… somehow some twisted, sick individuals decided to recreate these plants and spread them loose to cause countless amounts of destruction among the lands…”

Hearing of these plants made Prym’s eyes widen a bit in recognition… taking a moment to think on it, “Hold on, I… think I might’ve heard of such plants back in this one story Professor Blanchard once told us; an old crone who was jealous of the younger beauties in her town made up a mash of brew from these weird, white twigs so she could poison the girls, and absorb their own beauty to become a ‘goddess’. The plan backfired when it simply made the other men exposed to her inner flaws despite all her good looks, so she was cast off in a ritual fire to pay for her sins. Could… those perhaps be the white plague plants you were mentioning?”

One by one, Ivor and the others had given a nod of yes as Alastair floated up a steel box to open in display… revealing within a sealed-jar the shriveled up remains of a ghastly, half-rotted root… curled into a position like that of a crooked hand. Nauseating as the contents were to look at, the fact that this root was seemingly swimming in a sickeningly thick black liquid near the bottom didn’t help either…

“Indeed, Prym… this is the white plague we’ve been tasked by King Grayle to retrieve,” Ivor continued on to explain, “In our years of tracking them down, they’ve been linked to many terrible cases of people becoming infected when they didn’t expect it. Whether it’d be from injesting the root itself or the snow-like spores spread out into the air… its almost impossible to fully recover from it before its too late...”

“Yes… these roots were the ultimate cause of many terrible tragedies our country will never forget…” Alastair finally spoke up as cleared his throat, his tone serious yet solemn as ever, “Queen Elianne’s death, the double-crossed Wraith Night survivors, the village residents of Yulong…”

‘...Aevri’s hometown…’, Prym thought as she felt the tears prick to her eyes, remembering when her friend was given the grave news of her parents passing away of illness a few years back in school... so sudden and out of nowhere during a seemingly peaceful period of time. Long as it was since the last she saw Mr. and Mrs. Ren, Prym could still plainly recall them both being such kind, healthy-bodied people who wouldn’t hurt a fly… so hearing of them being the unsuspecting victims of such a ghastly plant this whole time was beyond tragic… “...even among our own ranks we’re all too familiar with white plague being inflicted right under us… ” Ivor admitted with a saddened tone, his gaze to Prym signifying she’d know who he’d talk about next, “The night Lady Meradyth had fled, the arrow blades recovered from the crime scene were found to be traced with this blackened poison linked back to the plague root… which, in connection to those other past incidents could only mean one thing..”

Not having to say another word, Alastair let his magic do the talking for him as he enchanted his glowing aura to shapeshift a group of silhouetted figures gathered together, each holding the white plague roots within their hands in an ominous, unified fashion. With that, signifying that whoever was perpetrating these white plague attacks… were all working together in a single, spread-out group.

Hearing all this was already pretty heavy for Prym to bear… breaking her more into confusion as she noticed Taiyin and Alastair turning to leave along with some other guards, “w-wait, where are you going?”

“Continuing the rest of the mission, kid.” Taiyin informed her, thankfully not as harshly as before but still firm enough to try and hold the young dark mage back.

“Yes, if our sensors are correct then its only a matter of time before these plague roots bloom upon the first morning hour. We must give haste at once.” Alastair joined with Taiyin as he packed some quick essentials nearby, looking over to his superior, “General, please inform us if anything stirs around this area while we’re gone, and we shall do the same in return.”

“Noted.” Ivor simply nodded as he gave some silent orders for the two to continue heading out. As much as a part of Prym wanted to say more in perhaps suggesting to go with them or however… her mind was still much too focused on the growing anger she had towards all these suspicions and secrets being kept from her. Not even letting Ivor reach to touch her shoulder in comfort, she had resigned to simply stomp towards the tent to cool off… the shining light of the moon following behind her.

——-

On another section of the sprawled forest, making their way through the thickets was Prince Elas and Tula… seeming to make good headway on the path they were on. Further back they had found some tracks being quite imposing enough to belong to no one else but Tula’s father,

“Okay, looks like it won’t be long to find Papa!” Tula had deducted, feeling some more confidence at finding another cluster of footprints up ahead, “my guess is that he might’ve set up camp just a few trees away, by this rate.”

“Indeed, I can’t say I can find much to disagree with that notion.” Elas gave an approving nod, analyzing some of the tracks for himself, “Seems to me he might’ve had some party members of his own crossing though here, so whatever he may be up to then he’s bound to not be alone…”

Looking on ahead in the direction they were headed to, something inside Tula was feeling… odd, and kind of confused as to how everything was going so smoothly at the moment. Perhaps… a bit too smoothly, as the forest seemed eerily still at this point in time.

“...Elas, does something seem ‘off’ to you?” the young Strength mage pondered, her gaze glancing around for any signs of possible life within the trees or bushes. At first, the prince didn’t seem to detect anything out of place as he stepped ahead… until his foot caught sight of something that made him jump back in shock.

“Oh good Saints, w-what in the world was...?” gathering himself to calm down, Elas took a closer look to find that his shoe had stepped into what looked like a puddle of thick, ghastly-white goo… the contents sizzling a bit under the glow of the moonlight above. Tula had curiously peaked over his shoulder to see what was up… only for them both to jolt back again once the puddle started to bubble and release a hissing, acidic green stench.

“-What is that stuff?? I-I’ve never seen anything like that in these woods!” Tula exclaimed with a clear worry in her tone, “Do you think any of the girls or Kain found-”

Halted in her thoughts was the ear-piercing shriek of something very much inhumane ringing throughout the trees, rattling both her and Elas from standing upright. Careful to at least not fall back in the goop behind them, the two helped pick the other up as within these shrieks, they heard the loud crashing and glowing of magic clashing near the distance ahead.

“-Kain!” Elas deducted, upon recognizing the reddish-orange glow from where he was standing, “He and Aevri must’ve found something dangerous up there, come on!” he encouraged to Tula while instinctively firing up some blue fire in his hands.

Answering back only with a firm nod, Tula didn’t take long to summon up her Strength gauntlets as the two of them hurried on to try and help the other mages. If only they had looked back behind them, they would’ve noticed how that white goo from earlier was beginning to fade away as a figure summoned it back into the darkness…

—-

The normally firm General was in quite an awkward spot having Prym stumbling upon such top secret info as she did… having hoped that tonight could’ve been just a simple detour mission without having to drag any of the kids along. And he knew that hearing the truth about the dangers of white plague had truly shaken her up… so, he knew that he couldn’t have any room to blame her for not being willing to talk to him at the moment while they were alone at the campsite.

A few more minutes would pass before he’d finally make the move to head inside the tent as well… looking to find Prym with her back turned from him, clearly lost in thought and conflicted.

“...Prym, I know what you may be thinking,” Ivor steadily began, trying to keep his tone as delicate as possible, “-But you must understand that this situation was... much too dire and dark for me to just confess it freely among you and the others back home. I simply wished to protect you all-“

“-Protect us from what, Ivor?” Prym finally spoke up, not so much defensively as much as she sounded… tired, “If you haven’t already noticed, me and the girls are not little kids anymore… if you truly meant to be on an important mission regarding these plague plants, then we could’ve understood if you simply told us. Otherwise I thought… well, with the King’s orders and that one lady’s coldness to me, I…”

“...I know. And for that as well, I deeply apologize...” the General lowered his head as he sighed, “Taiyin is quite a strong soldier, noble-hearted as well… but we’ve been meaning to correct her more about not letting her loyalty to the Elite get the better of her towards outsiders. I’ll be sure to have a talk with her when she gets back, I promise.”

Assuring as that thought was, as well as relieved at his genuine apologies… something in Prym’s mind was nagging at her to not let it go. Something regarding one, particular detail that wouldn’t leave her thoughts…

“...Ivor, earlier Lady Taiyin had given me this… really strange response to me mentioning my father Luka. Basically saying he… apparently never existed within the ranks.” Prym had turned to further face the general, looking up with a look of questioning, “You didn’t even directly say that he died within those other plague casualties, simply that there was poison found at that scene where Mother ran away. Is… there something you’re not telling me, Ivor...?”

“...Prym, n-now is not the time to-“ he looked quite shaken by her sudden accusation, but Prym continued to stand her ground further with a firm anger in her tone.

“-No. Now is more than the perfect time to explain- Why is it that all my life, I’ve been told my father was this grand, loving hero of the King’s Elite alongside my mother, giving his life to protect countless innocents… and yet now I learn that’s all apparently been one big lie?? Ivor, please what is the real truth here?? W-Was my father a true soldier, or not?? Was he working for some other party, dealing with some unsavory types?? Please, j-just tell me already, Ivor!”

Steadily her voice began to shake more to a near-sobbing tone, lip quivering as her mind was drifting to all sorts of possibilities… and one more question stuck out the most as she pitifully looked up to the older general,

“Ivor… is my father even alive…?”

Silence quickly fell upon the tent… as Ivor looked conflicted as to how exactly he should answer such a question, let alone in a situation like this. As the seconds were passing into a minute between them, Prym was afraid that… perhaps he wouldn’t give her an answer, that maybe it was a mistake to ask at all after she had already stepped out of line as is… until at last, the still air broke when Ivor delivered a simple, one word answer that changed everything…

“...yes…”

——-

On their end of the forests away from everyone else, things had… really picked up much more chaotically for Kain and Aevri, the two of them now lost in a battle between an eerie group of monsters clamoring around them. Resembling that of tall, ragdoll-like humanoids made of white tree bark… their gaping mouths and hollow eyes dripping with white goo could’ve easily shackled their two foes in complete fear, if they both weren’t so stuck in fighter mode right now.

“-Eat this, bitch!” Kain had exclaimed with some kicks and punches of his crystal magic blasts, encasing the tree-like creatures in red shards that pinned them all to the ground. Aevri in the meantime did her best to defend them both, having summoned her shields to ward off and slice away closing-in enemies.

“Ughhh, will you freaks get the damn hint already?? Piss off!” the Healer mage grunted, swiftly throwing her summoned-shield to knock back some of the foes before it flew back into her arms. Try as they might through their defenses, however… Aevri and Kain could only watch as the monsters had simply risen up more from the ground up, not even seeming phased by their earlier attacks.

“Oh for fuck’s sake… what the hell is keeping these things alive??” Kain cursed while powering up another set of crystal attacks, “Even a wyvern would’ve fallen down by now, shit!”

Before Aevri could’ve answered back with a possibly-snarky retort, their thoughts were halted as they saw a flurry of blue flames burning back the horde of monsters that tried to make a grab at the two… the sender revealing none other than Elas and Tula who had hurried on to join the battle.

“...Greeaaat, perfect timing, bro.” the younger Graystone prince flatly remarked with a roll of his eyes, his brother simply scoffing in response with a flick of his hair, “-Save the backtalk til after we’re safe, Kain.” Letting his companion Tula take the next step in pummeling down some of the creatures with her firsts, she at least gave a more grateful and relieved look to her healer friend at seeing her standing strong in the fight, “-Aevri! Thank the Saints you’re alright! I-I hope these things didn’t hurt you too much…”

“Pff, hey... what would it be a fight without a few scrapes?” Aevri joked a bit to lighten the mood, bringing a small smile to Tula’s face before the both of them turned to ward off the next wave of monsters. It almost seemed concerning just how much these things were reanimating up again despite the waves of attacks… only seeming to keep going and going within the next few minutes to pass.

All… until each of the tree dolls suddenly halted in their place like statues, the melting white goop re-materializing into their eye sockets properly as each of them stood up straight. Confusing the hell out of the mages that were fighting them, the four watched as these dolls started to assemble into some upright positions… almost like an army awaiting their leader approaching. And with a rustle of movement coming from the bushes from behind, that… actually seemed quite closer to the truth as a pair of footsteps came walking out from the dark.

“-Hey! Who’s there??” Aevri turned in the direction of the steps as did the rest of her party, all rearing for another big battle… but then pausing as they finally saw who it was. Turning out to be a pair of hooded, ominous figures greeting them in plain view… their features hidden from where they were standing a lil far back. All until they stepped further into the moonlight was it shown that they were both women, one of them covering their face with a featureless white doll mask… and the other simply smiling back in a rather calm, calculating way.

“Aww… whats wrong, little ones~?” the hooded figure with a mask tilted its head, giggling in a tone that sounded much too saccharine sweet, “Sister and I simply wanted to have a lil playtime with my babies here… don’t be so mean~”

Naturally, this quite frankly creeped out the young mages who were now all the more confused seeing the masked lady stepping over to gently caress one of the tree dolls, as if it were her most prized possession. Compared to everyone else ain was at least trying to mask his unnervedness by standing back more boldly,

“H-Hey, these things of yours attacked us first, lady… what the actual fuck are you on about-??”

“...Hmmmm, temper temper...” came the much more dignified voice of the other woman, shaking her head in Kain’s direction though that smile of hers still remained clear as day, “Is that any way to speak to your family… Kain?”

The once-fierce gaze in Kain’s eyes had… very much evaporated into a look of disbelief upon hearing that voice… the crystal auras in his hands disappearing as they dropped to his sides in shock, “...w-what…?”

Alarmed by his brother’s sudden distress, Elas had turned to try and step up in Kain’s defense as he demanded, “-What in the Saints’ good name are you on about?? Kain is my brother, and I do not recall either of you being anywhere near ‘family’!”

“-Shhhh, manners… young man~” whispered the masked-figure, holding a finger to her lips as all stilled around her… summoning an eerie aura that surrounded the other mages into freezing in place, much like the tree dolls. Unable to do anything but move their heads and faces, Tula, Elas and Aevri all looked on as only Kain was allowed to move on his own… yet all he could do was just shakily stand in place as the unmasked figure slowly approached him… again still smiling that damn smile of hers…

“-No, n-no no you can’t… you can’t be her…!” muttered the now-shaky voice of the usually-haughty prince… trembling as the figure was now up face-to-face with him. Even without being freeze-spelled like the others were, Kain could do nothing but stare as the figure reached up a hand to his face… gently caressing his cheek as her free hand moved to pull back her hood.

Now… there was really no doubt who exactly she was. The striking red hair, the ruby red lips, the amber eyes all too similar to Kain’s… save for the subtle signs of aging, he could never forget a face like that....

“Yes… it is me, my son~”

———

Millions of thoughts were running through Prym’s mind as she recalled what Ivor just confessed to her. Her father… her own father Luka… was alive all this time?? As much as she wanted to celebrate such news, another dark side of her was just reeling at the implications…

Where was her father, all this time she and her mother were in hiding? Why didn’t he come back for them? Was someone keeping him hostage, forcing him in place? What if… what if he willingly chose to abandon her? Not even sparing her a second thought, wherever he’s at now…?

Sensing the growing conflict growing within Prym, Ivor did his best to try and diffuse the situation as he reached to comfort her, “Prym, I… p-please try to understand-“

“-What IS there to understand, Ivor?? Nothing is making sense anymore!” the dark mage exclaimed as she threw up her hands, feeling her tears growing hot as she began to pace back and forth, “You say my father’s apparently alive all this time, but where in Terra IS he?? Obviously he’s not within the Elite ranks now, Mother hasn’t heard from him in ages, and none of the current Elite seem to know who he is! All I want now is the truth, and I want it now!”

“...” Ivor had grown quiet for the moment, heavily sighing as he gestured for Prym to follow him near one of the seats, “I… know this is very much against protocol, but… i-it’s about time you knew, Prym…”

As much as she would’ve liked to argue and stay pouting… the ever-curious side of Prym decided to relent in at least hearing his side of the story out, wiping away her tears with a still-determined look in her eyes. All she could do was watch on as Ivor went and grabbed an old wooden chest to carry over to her, opening the contents to pull out a sealed document folder hidden under some other papers and trinkets inside.

“Prym… your father was a man that had many burdens over him at his age,” the General began to explain, handing Prym the folder as he sat down next to her, “As much as he tried his best to fulfill his duties as a leader… others still feared and hated him for feeling like he took away what wasnt ‘rightfully’ his, on top of the already-detested dark magic he carried. And well… being his oldest friend, I knew that it wouldn’t be healthy for him to linger on all this bad press… so, it was my suggestion that he would involve himself more with our growing Elite forces, to help him lighten up from the stress of it all...”

Within her grasp, Prym flipped open the folder to see the first page contained a picture of Luka’s face on it, with the royal insignia of the Elite stamped below it. With a silent nod from Ivor, she flipped under it to see that inside held some various papers and photos from the old days of Luka’s younger years… from sparring with his troops, to happily posing with some grateful-looking civilians, to joining together with his team to stand vicariously together all at once.

“Overtime, your father grew to fit in well within the Elite for letting him express himself for who he was… beyond all the titles and dark magical stigmas, but as a loyal comrade who’d do anything for the good of Graystone. And since the local civilians didn’t seem to recognize him as a simple soldier like the rest of us, he had even felt comfortable enough to try and help out these communities through his own acts of vigilantism…” Ivor chuckled, unable to resist a small blissful smile at the memory, “Not too surprising that he and your mother grew to get along a lot well in that department, denying as they were at first...”

Pausing for a moment from browsing through the folder, Prym looked over to Ivor with a look of puzzlement, “...So, if you say my Father did all these great things for the people… why would they turn on him because he performed some darker magic spells than normal? I know Mother had mentioned that he enraged some uptight army for his necromancy, but…”

“...W-Well, truth be told, that... wasn't exactly the ‘full’ reason for his eventual attack, Prym...” Ivor admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “Luka, well-meaning as he was… at the same time was always rather stubborn and reckless when it came to what he thought was the right thing to do, regardless of the possible consequences ahead. There was no better example for when he had stepped out of protocol in one of our missions against a local crime-lord of the downtown New Grayle district… Boss Byzantine.”

“Byzantine…?” Prym blinked, steadily recognizing that surname after a bit of thought, “-One of Kaz’s bully friends shared that name back in school… Cable Byzantine.”

“Ahh, yes… the Boss would’ve been Cable’s father, from what I recall of that man.” Ivor gave a nod of acknowledgement, “Often kept to himself apart from the few public appearances with his family… most wouldn’t even know much else of him aside from that automobile company of his. But well… we as the Elite were having our growing suspicions after examining more of how poorly the downtown area was, and interviewing the locals terrorized from his gang’s past attacks. And thanks to one of our undercover operatives, Sgt. Kodiak, we had not only started to put any and all accomplices in jail, but had planned in the near future to soon put Byzantine to justice too. Luka, however… well, turns out he had decided to take fate into his own hands by cornering the Boss one day in his office with his dark magic… giving into temptation with his soul-ripping spells to really show the crooked man who he was messing with…”

The air seemed to grow heavier as Ivor quickly grew quiet again, his gaze going back to the chest’s contents as he pulled out something else from under all the papers… a locket with a purple moon gem symbol on the front, “...In the end, thanks to some nearby guards catching wind of his actions, Luka wasn’t fully able to be rid of Byzantine as he hoped… but that would soon seal his fate as the Boss had subtly planned a “vengeance” of his own. And so, a few years later Luka and Meradyth had made plans to head into the Downtown area for a quick errand, picking up this upcoming birthday present for you...” explaining as he gently placed the pendant within the girl’s hands, eyes closing as he painfully recalled further...

“...and, just as they were heading back home… they were ambushed. A mix of Byzantine’s own men and a few hired hands from the army Luka has disgraced, together overwhelmed the couple in more ways than one. Within all the smoke, blades, and spells being thrown around it was practically impossible for either of them to evade it all on their own…”

“So, how exactly did my father manage to survive from it all...?” Prym turned her gaze to ask, a hand gently resting onto Ivor’s as he felt himself getting shaken by the recollecting… only pressing on further for Prym’s sake, “-Through having to spend a good chunk of his aura energy on teleporting Meradyth away from safety, and the last of it to unleash one, devastating blast to ward off the remaining foes, they were defeated and got taken into custody… but at a grave cost to Luka, himself. Our troops, try as we did to bring him back to heal him up, just weren’t able to stop the plague-induced infections from slipping him into a deep sleep. Hours had turned to days, and days turned to weeks… and throughout it we were beginning to lose hope. Finally, at last he was able to wake up and face us again, b-but…”

It was here that Ivor had turned to look back at Prym, placing a hand to her shoulder as he delivered the news that had shattered the shred of hope she had earlier...

“Prym… h-he didn’t recognize us anymore, and… neither could he remember either you or your mother when we tried to tell him after waking up…”

“...W… What? No… n-no that can’t be right..!” the dark mage bitterly broke into a sobbing mess, shaking her head in near-denial, “-What kind of father would just up and forget his own loved ones, his own family?? P-Please tell me this isn’t true, Ivor! Please…!”

“...I-I’m sorry, Prym...” a guilt-ridden Ivor muttered, instinctively pulling Prym in for a tight hug despite her protesting sobs, “We tried all we could, believe me we did… but this plague proved to be the most resilient curse on our fellow comrade, even with the best medicinal help. Showing him pictures, records, and home videos did little to jog his memory… after awhile, he started refusing our help all together despite our protests…”

Soon, even as toughened as he usually was… even Ivor has begun to shed some tears as he held Prym close,

“He’s changed so much as time further passed, Prym.. not even going by his name anymore whether he’s off duty or not these days. To the point where eventually we just decided to never bring up the subject of Luka anymore, with the very few remaining soldiers from our old ranks swearing to silence never to speak of him either. As much as we wanted to reunite him with you both in the coming years, we just… w-we didn’t want to task the risk if anything were to… well, go wrong…”

To say that this did anything to soothe Prym’s heartbroken state would be a lie… as in the minutes that passed her furious sobs had silenced into mere whimpers, whilst Ivor continued to do his best to hold and comfort her as if she were his own child. In some ways, this news had devastated her even more than her initial thoughts of her father being deceased. To even imagine having to go through as much as he did, miraculously surviving but erased of his own memories like that… it was beyond crushing of a thought...

...Yet, the more she had paused to think on this info, the more she began to realize the implications of what exactly Ivor meant by Luka not going by his name anymore. Thinking back to the folder left next to her, she couldn’t help herself in pulling away from Ivor… desperately flipping through until her eyes caught sight of the last page. Her father’s medical file.

And this time, even Ivor didn’t move to stop her as he defeatedly looked away, accepting that she had to know this sooner than later...

...our current patient has been confirmed to have been inflicted with trauma-induced memory loss, and by royal order we have been requested to withhold further treatment by his end. Our staff has grown worried with his own past history of ongoing PTSD and Chronic Depression, but well… as our fellow staff had put it, an order’s an order.

With a heavy heart, this concludes our progress into looking after our patient of the past year and a half... Luka Grayle.

#the three mages #main storyline #my art #my fics #(at long last I finally returned to this oml-)#(again *mega* apologies in advance for the delay on this for anyone who's originally followed it more closely)#(as much fun as I had with developing lore and side casts I knew it was about time to get more back on the main story)#(soooo enjoy~)#(and stay tuned for the some upcoming chapters ahead cause BOI this was fun to get back into dljfkjk x33)

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missfluffywriter · 5 years ago

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Purple Irises I Mafia Park Jimin x Reader

Author’s note: Ooof it’s finally out. That took way longer than I expected. And I’ll be breaking this chapter into two pieces. I hope you don’t mind. I have to say I did a lot more research than I thought I would, just to say but everything I’ve written are pretty accurate, emphasis on pretty. Of course not everything, and I can never really be sure of the medical stuff, cuz you know I’m not a doctor. lolol. Well, that’s it for me. Happy readings!

Word count: 10.9k

Genre: Mafia AU, (slight) Doctor au, (slight) Florist au

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

(Series) Summary: You were supposed to be delivering flowers, how did you end up in an operation room digging out a bullet from a mafia boss’ shoulder?

Purple Irises: Royalty and wisdom

Warnings: Guns, language, mention of drugs, inconsistant grammar lol

Previous chapter I Next chapter I Masterlist I Requests are open!

“If I hadn’t sent (Y/n) when I did, your boss would be six feet under right now,”

Nearly three days had passed since the ball and yet Soomin’s toneless voice continued echoing through your head. Ricocheting from one corner of your mind to another, there were instances where the voice would dull to a soft whisper but never was it gone, not for an instant. Her words ring in your head yet you don’t know why. You were not angry with her, not at all; as a matter of fact, you felt no such anger or animosity towards your former boss. Neither did you feel betrayal or despair.

Originally you thought you felt nothing towards the situation, but that wasn’t exactly correct. What you had truly felt was apprehension, you did not understand a situation you were brought into or the reason behind your arrival. Was there a reason as to why you were forced into this world? Was there a role you were meant to play in Ji-Eun Duri’s game? Were you brought into this to serve a purpose? And if you were, then what about after that purpose has been fulfilled? What then? And if you weren’t, then why were you here?

There were more questions than answers, and every time you thought you were close to an answer, more questions arose. You weren’t used to this, more questions than answers; usually, you would at least have some semblance of understanding of what you were getting into, but this? You had nothing. You didn’t like the feeling of being left in the dark, and you absolutely despised the episodes of hopelessness that seared through your chest. Like you couldn’t do anything, you didn’t have enough information to take either defensive or offensive action.

However, the negatives aside, you also couldn’t deny the buzz in your system. A low hum of excitement, like expecting the unexpected, similar to a game of tag played in a sea of darkness. And though you had your bouts of helplessness and self-doubt, those thoughts only worked to fuel your imagination, your instinct for survival, and your drive to win. When you felt helpless your mind would create a thousand different scenarios, predicting the flow and outcome of each one. Thus, creating a skeleton of a plan so if the scenario should occur, you had some idea of your future movements.

And when you felt self-doubt you would think up back-up plans to any what-ifs that came to mind. If you were feeling uncertain of any of your plans or ideas you would test as many scenarios that would come to mind, asking others for their input regularly; what would they have done? Why would they have done what they did? Was there a better way to achieve what they were planning or warning for?

You would spend the time restlessness took hold to prepare for whatever future that may come. Because that was all you could do, prepare, and prepare the best you could. Besides, you felt a bizarre sense of gratitude towards the female responsible for your current predicament. If it weren’t for her you would have never been involved in this dangerous world, but above that, you would have never met Jimin or Jin, or Jeongguk, or any of these wonderful people. Apart from that, what Soomin had said was correct, if you hadn’t shown up when you did, Jimin wouldn’t be alive today. And thinking of a world where Jimin didn’t exist wasn’t at the top of your to-think list.

So while you didn’t appreciate the negative feelings brought on by the situation, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Okay, but, what’s the difference between sutures, stitches, and staples?” Jin questioned; his ebony locks slipping onto his chestnut orbs as his head tilted in a query. His voice, sharpened by confusion, breaks you from thoughts.

“Technically speaking, all three are used for the same purpose, to close wounds or surgical incisions, but they aren’t the same,” You explain; setting the silver needle forceps onto the medical tray while smoothly covering that fact that you had barely caught the words of the ravenette.

“For sutures, doctors use a thread or strand of material to perform wound closure. The term "stitches" refers to the surgical procedure or process of closing a wound with sutures. Staples on the other hand are another material that doctors sometimes use to make sutures or stitches.”

“Hm, I think I get it,” He did not get it. The confusion muddling his expression was as clear as day. This was a tricky subject, even you had trouble completely grasping the concept correctly. But he had barely begun learning of sutures and stitches, he had ample time to understand the material. Although he had progressed much faster than you had imagined, granted you weren’t exactly going in order by chapter.

You decided it would be best to teach him things he was more likely to need once he had a basic understanding of bacteria, pathogens, and such. You could move to the actual medicinal and chemical aspects once he has the basic skills he could need out on the job. Though symptom recognition and diagnosis are a part of the current lesson plan, for the moment it is a lesser matter.

“Do you know the different kinds of threads for status and stitches?” You ask the older male, testing the knowledge he was supposed to have studied the night before.

“There’s absorbable and nonabsorbable,” Thoughtfully he recites the information he had learned. “Absorbable sutures are intended to be broken down by the body over time and eventually dissolve completely. Some materials used to make absorbable sutures are derived from animal products that have been specially processed. Other absorbable sutures are made from synthetic polymer materials such as polylactic acid to make Vicryl, polyglycolic acid for Dexon, polyglyconate makes Maxon, and polydioxanone for PDS. And then there are non-absorbable sutures that are permanent and have to be removed. These sutures can be made from nylon, polypropylene which makes the prolene thread, or silk.”

“Good一very good,” You praise, eyes fluttering as you listen to the older male recite the passage from your old textbook word for word. Had he really memorized all that in a single night? If he had legitimately chosen this as a career path, you were sure he certainly would have gone far.

“So, do you have any questions before we move on?” You ask, a pleased smile curved onto your lips as you move to lay the ground world for the next lesson.

“Yeah,” Bobbing his head, the chestnut eyed male continued, “Why do doctors still use permanent threads if we already have dissolvable threads? Wouldn’t it just be easier to use the adorable ones? Since then the patient wouldn’t have to return to get the sutures removed,”

“Ah, that’s a really good question,” You exalted, hands coming together in a prayer position. “Well you see, permanent or nonabsorbable sutures are sometimes preferred because they are resistant to the body’s chemicals that might otherwise dissolve the sutures too early in the healing process. Non-absorbable sutures are useful for maintaining long-term tissue wound closure and healing,” You explain, reaching for the text-book that had been forgotten at the end of the surgery table.

“Oh, I see,” Seokjin hums, his forefinger and thumb on his chin as his thumb rubs the underside of his chin. “So permanent threads are still very useful too,”

“Yes very much so,” Nodding, you affirmed.

“So any other questions?” Flipping through the smooth pages of the text-book, you pause on the pages lesson twenty-four, “Sutures and Stitches”.

Shaking his head side to side, he signals for you to continue with the lecture.

“Okay, so today we learned the Mattress stitch and the continuous stitch,” You listed the day’s practice. “With that, you should be able to handle minor lacerations or cuts,”

“But,” You continue, “I want you to keep practicing on the suturing pad and study about those stitches, you may know how to do them, you still don’t know how to do them correctly,”

“And tomorrow we’ll get into the subcuticular stitch and look over some other stitches too, but一 yeah, that's it. And we’ll get more into staples in a few days. Tonight’s homework is just to study about the sutures,” You concluded, your gaze lifting to the brand new clock hanging on the wall. ‘Good, right on time,’

“(Y/n)?” Came the familiar low yet soft voice. Turning your body to face the white-blond leaning against the agape door frame.

“Yeah, let’s go,” You call, easing away from the operating table, you make your way to the other mafioso. But your attention is paged back in towards the room.

“Wait, (Y/n),” Humming in response you briefly angle yourself to the ravanette standing by the table, “Can I write in your book?” Shifting from one foot to another, he asks, his hand rubbing the nape of his neck. “It just gets a lot when I have to copy everything down,”

“Sure! Go ahead,” Beaming at the male you answer his silly question. It was his book now, he could do whatever he wanted on it. “That book is yours now, you can mark and write on it as much as you want,” Giving him a gentle smile, you reassure him.

“Thank you, and good luck in training” A sheepish grin curling onto his lips, Jin gives you a double thumbs up.

“You’re gonna need it,” The white-blond behind you scoffs as you make your way to the door.

“Oh hush you,” Half-heartedly slapping the mafioso on the chest, you bustle out the medical room - a compromise you came to between the doctor's office and operation room. As it turned out Jeongguk was not very fond or aware of the new name for the tiled room. He argued it be called what it had been called for as long as it had existed. Which was the “Doctor’s room” and though it was a very endearing term, it wasn’t exactly correct, nor was it very professional. Besides, OR sounded cooler.

And so you compromised, the name would have aspects you both had wanted, and thus the operation room was newly dubbed as the medical room. The new name contained factors you both liked, all in all, it was a happy arrangement.

“Alright, which one do you think we should do today?” Yoongi’s voice brings you back from your flashback of the great compromise.

“You’re asking me?” Pressing your hand to your hips, sarcasm bleeds from your words as your (e/c) orbs scan over the cloud-grey wall decked out with every gun or rifle one could imagine. Then drifting to the black metal drawers that were about waist height sitting under the gun mounts.

His eyes move in a semi-roll, before humming thoughtfully he picks up a solid black handgun from the wall adjacent to the one your sight had been fixed on.

Since the days after the gala fiasco, Hoseok had given the clear for you to begin your firearms training. You still had daily hand-to-hand combat training with either Hoseok or Jeongguk

“We practiced with a single-action for the past two days,” He speaks his thoughts as he examines the weapon in his hand before his slender digits trace a silver-black gun resting on the metal holders. “Yeah, maybe we’ll have you practice with a double-action today,”

“A double-action?” You parroted, forehead scrunching at the foreign vocabulary terms.

“Well, maybe not. It would probably be safer for a beginner to use a double-action until you’re used to all safety procedures,” Yoongi continues, oblivious to the query lacing your words.

“Wait, wait, what do you mean double-action一single action?” Voicing your question, you head involuntarily leaning to your right as you did.

Moments pass as he blankly stares at you, his eyelids fluttering open and close as he processes your words. “Didn’t we go over that when we started?” He asks, frown lines setting on his pale face folds in confusion.

“No,” Shaking your head side to side as his own expression transforms into one of surprise.

“Did we talk about how a gun works or anything like that?” Emphasizing the ‘anything’ he asked.

“Nope,” You return popping the ‘p’ as your shoulders rise into a shrug. “You kinda just gave me a gun, showed me how to use it, then we fired a buncha times,” Thoughtfully you review the events of the last two training sessions.

Yoongi’s face contorts in disbelief before his eyebrows lifted, his mouth opening as his own memories of the last sessions. “I should explain all that shouldn’t I?” Sheepishly rubbing the scruff of his neck, he jested.

“Probably,” You return with a soft chuckle.

“Right,” He grinned, beginning his explanation, “Well you see when you pull the slide of the handgun back, it allows for the magazine spring to push a bullet into the chamber. It also cocks the hammer of the gun back,”

His statement only caused your expression to rumple further as he once again used terms you were not familiar with. What did the word hammer have to do with guns? “What’s a hammer?”

“The hammer is a part of a gun that is used to strike the percussion cap or primer, or a separate firing pin, to light the propellant and fire the projectile. It is so-called that because it looks like a hammer and kinda works like one too, here, look,” Waving you closer he showed you the tail of the gun, pointing to the little lever-like bump that sat at the end of the gun.

“A cap?” You question; did he not understand that you were a beginner and that you hadn’t even seen let alone touched a gun before you had met them, or did he assume you knew your way around firearms after the way you spoke in the Matsuuru deal. It may have sounded like you knew what you were talking about, but you really didn’t, you were simply reciting the list of words Namjoon had shown you.

“It’s called a percussion cap or just cap for short, and some people even call it a primer. It’s basically a thin metal cup that contains a small amount of pressure-sensitive explosive, often mercury fulminate. And when crushed, the explosive detonates, sending a stream of hot gas down through a hole in the nipple and into the touchhole of the gun to ignite the powder charge.” He tried his hardest to settle his annoyance at your thousand questions

“Powder charge?” Another query falls from your lips.

“Gunpowder,” He curtly simplifies.

“Then, when you pull the trigger of the gun, it causes the hammer to snap forward, which pushes the firing pin inside the gun into the primer of the bullet cartridge. When the firing pin strikes the primer, it ignites the propellant or gunpowder that will send the bullet flying down the barrel at a high rate of speed,” He finally finishes without your interruptions. “That is basically how a hammer-fired gun works,”

“I think I get it,” Thoughtfully, you hum, stepping through the door at the end of the room, into the actual gun range. Then realizing he Yoongi had just used another term you did not understand. “Wait, hammer-fired?”

A deep exhale leaves his lips, he does not have the patience nor energy to explain hammer-fired and striker-fired on top of double-action and single-action. “Ah, well you see there are hammer-fired guns or striker-fired guns, a Glock is a striker-fired gun, but we’ll get into all that stuff some other time. For now, how about we just focus on the actions,”

“Okay so, the gun you were using yesterday was a single action, meaning you pull back the handle slide of the gun to cock it, then you pull the trigger to fire the bullet,” Alluding you with the simplest words he could think of, making sure to avoid any other firearms-related terms and words. “A double-action is when the cocking of the hammer and the firing of the gun both happen as you pull the trigger,”

“So we’re working with a double-action today?”

“Yeah, let’s get you used to double-actions. In the long run, I think it’d be safer for you to have a double,” He concluded, pulling out the magazine of the charcoal-colored gun in his grasp. Before cruising back to the room with the guns, walking to the farthest drawers sitting underneath the gun mounts, replacing the magazine with a new one.

“Do you have your earplugs?” The white-blond asked, his eyes flickering to you from the weapon in his hand.

Nodding, you wordlessly respond to the male’s question. Digging through the pockets of your hoodie, you hold out a sable-black box that was about the size of your palm.

“Good, always keep them on you,” His head bobs in approval as he hands you the newly loaded gun along with a set of large headphones. “But for now, use these”

The weapon sits heavy on your free palm. Saliva pooled in your mouth as you carefully held the gun - forefinger away from the trigger - you daintily pocketed the black box. “What gun is this?” You questioned, feeling a tingling sensation run underneath the skin of your palms, sweat gathering on them as your fingers tentatively brushed the body of the firearm.

“It’s a double-action Tanfoglio EAA Witness,” A swift reply leaves his lips “Alright, now what are the rules I gave you?”

“Trigger finger off at all times unless I’m ready to shoot,” Your answer is immediate, having had the core rule drilled into you for two consecutive days.

“Good, next,”

Your mouth moved to sound the correct answer, but you pause, instead deciding to reply with the lesson you had learned the hard way. “Don’t touch the barrel or muzzle after it fires,” Grumbling out the words, you grimace as your brain replays the incident that occurred a day prior.

Being the novice to weapons that you were, you didn’t realize just how hot the gun could get. Normally one would think it common sense that the temperature of the gun’s barrel and muzzle exponential rise, seeing as a mini-explosion takes place within the barrel for the bullet to exit the weapon. But at that instant, all rhyme or reason had left you, and you had the magnificent idea to hold the gun by the head. Which ended with you accidentally touching the muzzle area, a minor burn, and a life lesson.

“I see someone’s learned her lesson,” Yoongi chuckles, exhorting you to continue. “Next,”

“Never point the gun at anything unless I intend to destroy it,” You list.

“Good, now do you have a lock on your target?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Put on your headphones and shoot whenever you’re ready, take your time to aim each turn,” The mafioso instructs, gesturing to the noise-canceling headphones in your hand.

Following his directions, you place the cushions of the large headphone over your ears, adjusting them to fit your skull, then taking your stance.

Your heart heavily thudding in your chest, you take deep breaths, trying to calm the throbbing of your pulse that translated into your hand, making them shaky. Your first breath comes out ragged and choppy, but the exhales that follow pacify the palpitation ringing through your body, smoothing the flow or circulation.

Once your body had steadied, you moved into the weaver stance. Feet planted slightly wider than shoulder-width apart, placing the foot correlating with your dominant hand a half-step behind your non-dominant foot. A soft bend in your knees, leaning slightly forward, bracing yourself for the backlash of the shot.

Continuing your focused breathing you aim the point of the gun at the paper human target, you intently watch as the gun bobbed up and down with the cadence of your breaths. Your expression relaxes as your vision focuses on the target nearly twenty yards from where you stood. ‘Never aim for the head, the target’s too small. Always aim for the chest,’ Yoongi’s words echo in your head as you shift to aim for the center of the chest, where the heart would have been.

On your next inhale you solidify your aim, tightening your grip on the weapon, squeezing the trigger as you exhaled. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter you inch closer to the end of the pull, increasing the pressure on the trigger. And at the trough of your exhale the curve of the trigger meets its end.

The powerful push of the gun drives your body backwards, your bent knees, and the forward lean absorbing the shock, keeping you in place. The impact of the bullet firing rippling throughout your body. You felt a slight tremble in your hands, a hum of the aftershock. You hold on the grip constricts, eyes narrowing on the result of the shot as you bite back the disappointment of missing your mark. The bullet had landed below the right shoulder, much farther than your marked target.

Keeping your breathing as stagnant as you could, you refocus your aim. The same spot as earlier, this time you adjusted your aim, a touch lower, and a smudged to the left. Then squeeze the trigger again. And though the bullet doesn’t land on the intended destination, it is just a tad closer, the bullet having ended on the mid-chest area, right on the line of your designated mark.

The process of shooting and adjustment continued as you build experience and feel for the weapon. The cycle continued for the entirety of the time Yoongi trained you, pausing only to give you pointers or to reload the magazine - which you did on your own - Yoongi had shown you how to replace a magazine the day before and you had been replacing the cartridge on your own ever since.

And as the operation flowed you noticed that the gun you were working with today was much smoother and easier to use than the one you had been training with previously. The elongated trigger time caused by the heaviness of the pull gave you a chance to readjust your aim or even reconsider your decision to shoot altogether. You liked that added time frame to think about your decision and finalize your aim. But that also may have been a drawback as the longer fire time may give the other person to counter or even shoot before you had the chance to.

Nonetheless, if you were able to choose the gun you would have, then you would most certainly ask for this one. The body was sleek and clean, the modern designs pleasing to the eye, and above that, the feel of the gun was marvelous. Not that you knew many guns or their feels, but this one just felt right. It fit perfectly in your palm, and the grip was comfortable, almost natural.

By the time Yoongi had called the end of this session, you had burned through three fourteen plus one magazines. For a total of forty-five bullets used.

Huffing out an exhausted exhale, you place the gun on the table-like area that was separated into a booth-like space by walls of wood. You jerk your hands in a flicking motion in an attempt to ease away the pounding in palms. Your hands flushed a vibrant red and a little numb from the continuous shooting. You remove the headphones protecting your hearing before stretching your limbs, easing them into a more relaxed state.

“Good job today, you’re improving really fast,” Yoongi praises, taking the gun you had put down, returning it to its mount on the grey wall. Humming a soft ‘thank you’, you lean against the table-like space in between the separators.

“Hey, so does this mean I get my own gun or something?” You ask the older male, curious as to whether you were actually getting a weapon or if this was just training to prepare for a situation.

“You will,” The white-blond cruises into the shooting range, hands in the pockets of his slacks. “But first you need to try a bunch of them to see what you are comfortable with and can actually use outside of practice.”

“Can I have that one?” You head tilts upward to gesture to the gun he had just put away.

“The one you were using?” You nod at his question. Sure it was true you needed to build more experience and try out more guns to see what worked best with you, but you just felt a pull towards the one you were using.

“Yeah,”

“A tanfoglio witness, huh?” A familiar silvery voice resounded throughout the room. “I think it suits you, beautiful and efficient,” Jimin muses, coasted over to where you stood, wrapping his arms around your waist when close enough.

Giggling at his corny statement, you nuzzle into Jimin’s neck, arms coming to rest around his thin waist, purring at the warmth of his delicately comforting embrace.

“What’re you doing here?” You mumble into the exposed skin of his neck, basking in the sunny feeling of his grasp around your body.

“Getting the two of you for the meeting,” Answering softly, he places a caste kiss on your forehead.

“You’re here to get us?” Scoffing a laugh, you part from the silver-blond just enough to meet his eyes.

“And?” A questioning brow raises on his face as eyes you, a smile curling onto his lips. “You gotta problem?”

“You guys are sickening,” Yoongi wretches at the disturbingly cute moment unfolding before him. However, despite his outward expression, he was truly happy for his boss. The white-blond couldn’t properly recall the last time the don had laughed so freely, enjoyed the minor things in life, like a cup of tea or just a slow day. For the longest time, the young mafioso had been focused solely on the jobs neglecting even himself and his own health, on top of that Jimin was fierce一 short-tempered, denying any help or counseling the other core members provided. So having you hound him for skipping meals or being careless with his health and Jimin actually being rendered completely helpless to your care and affection, was a delightful change of pace. Besides, Jimin was Yoongi’s brother just as much as he was the white-blond’s boss.

“Sickeningly adorable,” You correct the older mafioso with a blinding grin as Jimin chuckles into your locks.

“But seriously, the meeting’s about to start,” The mafia don tugs you by your waist. Leading you out of the shooting range and back into the lavish mansion. Yoongi exited before the two of you, not intending on being trapped behind two mush balls, especially with one of them Jimin melting by the minute.

“How’s Shelty doing?” You question, falling into an easy pace with Jimin beside you, still holding onto your hip. Having not seen your precious puppy since morning as you had left her with Jimin.

“Guk may be having a bit too much fun with her,” The silver-blond answers, a sigh following his statement. He was forced to leave the wolf-dog in the care of the younger as you had forbidden your puppy from being anywhere near the gun range while guns were firing as the loud sounds would hurt her sensitive hearing. But, Jimin had wanted to personally fetch you for the meeting. And Namjoon and Jin were busy preparing for the meeting; Hoseok and Taegyung were out for a minor deal meeting; Yoongi was with you, so he had no choice but to leave the pupper with the youngest.

Which, now that he had a chance to really consider his decision, may not have been the best, Joengguk was responsible and mature most of the time, but most of the time there wasn’t an equally excited ball of floof jumping at him. It was like leaving two overzealous golden retrievers together… in a small room… alone.

“You know what? I think we should hurry up,” Jimin grumbles, increasing his pace to a brisk walk.

“What? Why?” Your eyelids flutter in confusion as you match his pace, dashed down the west wing corridors, and up the winding staircase of the main building.

“I left Shelty with Guk,” He groans, hoping all was intact in the cramped meeting room. You let out a joyful laugh as you realized the thoughts running through Jimin’s head.

His eyes playfully narrow as the silver-blond pulls into his grasp, tickling your sides as you a shrill of laughter and pleas from him to stop floods from your lips.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sheesh,” Wiping away the tears that had gathered on the edges of your eyes, you chuckle. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. Besides its Jeongguk he’ll take great care of Shelty,”

“It’s not Shelty I’m worried about,” A sigh escapes his plump, cherry-pink lips and you couldn’t help but give those plush pillows a soft peck.

“Shelt’s housebroken, she won’t jump or chew on any furniture,” You reassure the male with another chaste kiss on the cheek.

“See,” Your gaze gesturing to a placid Shelty, contentful snuggled into the youngest brunette on the floor as the elevator doors opened. And Jimin heaves a breath, stepping towards his seat then lowering into the armchair, relieved that nothing was destroyed or damaged.

“Shelty, I’m here,” You call the seventy-pound puppy. Her ears immediately alert when he hears the voice of her favorite human. She bounds over to you as you take your seat on the velvet armchair to the left of Jimin. “Heyya girl,” Cooing at the wolf-dog, you kiss her head, massaging her scruff and running your fingers through her silky fur. “Did you miss me?”

Even though he had an absolute blast with Jimin and then the chocolate brunette, she missed you very much.

“Jin, Taehyung, and Hoseok will be here soon,” Namjoon declared, coming to stand beside Jimin’s right with a touch screen tablet in his hand. Jimin nods to the tall, syrup-brown haired mafioso.

“Hey, (Y/n) wasn’t late today,” Jin walks into the room, Taehyung and Hoseok on his tail. You throw the elder a sheepish grin, which he returns as each man takes their respective seat.

“Alright, let’s begin the meeting,” Once everyone is settled, Namjoon’s voice resounds as he took his place in Jimin’s right.

“First thing’s first, how did the deal with the Myo’s go?” Yoongi asks, eyeing the pair that had entered with Jin.

“They were able to get five mill together but they don’t have enough for the nine-millimeter parabellum magazines,” Taehyung says, leaning his weight onto the armrest.

“What was their order,” Jimin questions, his right leg crossing over his left.

“A thousand units of M4 carbines, two-thousand units of Glock 20s, two-thousand units of Glock 43s, and four thousand units of nine-millimeter parabellum cartridges,” Namjoon answers his gaze, flickering to the don, examining his docile expression.

“I’m assuming the M4 carbines and the Glock 20s are the most expensive out of the bunch,” You say thoughtfully, eyes shifting to Yoongi and Jimin to confirm your belief. The pair affirm your words with a nod of their head. “Okay, do we know why they need the guns?”

“They were caught in a turf war, so they’re stocking up on weapons,” The tallest is once again to answer the question. Did Namjoon know everything?

“Well if they’re running short on budget, I would suggest they cut down on the guns and instead stock up on bullets,” Patting Shelty’s soft head, you bring your feet up to your chest as you speak. “It’s not like they’re just going to throw away the gun once they use them, they’re gonna need way more bullets than actual guns. Besides guns become as useful as your tailbone if there are no bullets for them to fire,”

Confusion floods the expression on the beautiful faces of the men, aside from Jin, who chortled at your medical analogy. The faces of the six contorting further, not understanding what their elder found so funny.

“It’s a medical thing don’t worry about it,” Waving off the query in the faces of the men, you dismiss the situation.

“ I’ll make sure to pass that along to the Myo’s,” Taehyung breaks the very, very short silence that had fallen after your unsuccessful analogy.

“Alright next,” Nodding at the chestnut-haired male, Jimin carries on the meeting. “The meeting with Ji-Eun Duri,” His expression hardens as the men sit up straighter, some toying with their suit cuffs.

“The meeting will take place tomorrow at one of her safe houses, we were told to come with minimal personale just,”

“Come with minimal personale? Does she want this to be like a ceasefire signing or something?” Ji-Eun Duri was truly an enigma to you. Every time you think you felt as though you were close to figuring her out, she does something like this. Why not meet at the safety of her own space, her own territory? It wasn’t as though the location of her home was a mystery to you, to Bangtan to be more accurate. But still, what was she doing? What was she really up to?

“Tell me,” You call. “Ji-Eun Dure, what is she like? What’s her business? What does she do?” Firing a barrage of questions, you try to piece together the puzzle that was Ji-Eun Duri.

“She’s sharp and cunning,” Yoongi speaks, his gaze hardening into a glare. ‘Well duh,’ That much was clear, by the way, she held herself, the way she addressed others, her smarts and wit were as clear as the crystal-like turquoise waters of the Maldives.

“She runs one of the largest drug rings in Seoul, and she holds power over many of the mafia families,”

“Where does she get her drugs from?”

“She has her own farms around the world,” Namjoon answers. “But, Peru and Colombia are the main producers,”

‘Peru and Colombia, huh?’ Two of the countries largely responsible for cocaine cultivation. However, it was surprising Bolivia hadn’t made the list of main producers, especially considering the abundance of coca plants in the region. Unless…

“Tell me, does she have anything in Bolivia?” You ask, acting on the bubbling in your stomach.

“Bolivia?” The tallest echos. “I’m not sure, I’d have to look into that. Why?” syrup haired male looks to you.

“Just wondering,” Humming, you mumble, leaning your head against the back of the armchair.

“What about guns? Weapons? Does she deal with weapons?” Twisting your head to the right you ask the man over Jimin.

“She doesn’t deal with weapons, no. She buys weapons frequently, but she’s never been known to sell them” Namjoon faithfully answers. She didn’t deal with weapons? Why?

“Then where does she get her weapons from?” If she has a running drug ring then she must need weapons. And the larger the operation the more weapons and supplies she requires.

“Ji-Eun gets all her firearms and ammo from the dealers and families under her and only from the people he has control over,”

“Yeah, she rarely makes deals with those who aren’t under her,” Taehyung adds.

Duri may have appeared to be arrogant or brash, but her actions spoke otherwise. She trusted no one other than the ones she had a firm grasp on. Those she could manipulate, those who couldn’t betray her. That level of caution was the making of a dangerous woman. You finally understood why the group might have been eager to align Bangtan ti Duri.

Aligning with Duri would mean not only her support but also the support of the families and groups beneath her.

“So it really surprised us when she wanted to make a deal with us,” Hoseok’s calm voice brings you back from the depth of your thoughts.

“If it were just us, we would have jumped at her offer,” Jin says, his hand coming up to brush the back of his neck. “So I’m glad you were there,”

“Yeah, you really saved us back there,” Yoongi chuckles as a sheepish grin forms on his lips

“I was so focused on what we could gain from the alliance, I forgot to think about what we would be giving in return, and just what exactly “loyalty” included,” Jimin sighs, his eyes shifting to your form.

“We all were,” Jeongguk quips. “Well, aside from (Y/n) I guess,” A smile playing at his lips, he gestures to you.

“How’d you catch it so quickly?” Taehyung asks.

“Well, you guys were so tense around her, I knew she was dangerous. And besides, I was already on guard because of the whole Soomin thing. So as soon as she presented her deal, I thought of every way she could benefit from having our “loyalty”. And the biggest one was that if she used her words right she could possibly have almost full control over our networks,” You explain, toying with the furs on Shelty’s head. “Which would mean she would have the most powerful weapon in existence,”

“Most powerful weapons in existence?” Taehyung parrots, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Accurate information,” Letting your feet down, you answer the male. “If used right it could bring the most powerful people to their knees,”

“But, you need to have reliable information to use it,” Adding to your previous statement, you make your point.

“Man I wasn’t even thinking of that,” The youngest grumbles, throwing his arms behind his head.

“That’s why words are so dangerous,” You hum. “If you don’t listen carefully, you might just end up understanding what you want to understand, and not what the speaker is actually meaning to say,”

“So you have to listen properly,” Chuckling you send Shelty over to the younger male, in an effort to heal his wounded pride. How could someone who has barely known the mafia world outwit him, someone who had been at this for years longer than you?

“Well then, we’re gonna need that kind of listening tomorrow,” Jimin concludes, coming to a stand. A sign the meeting was coming to an end.

“Tomorrow, we’ll be taking a unit of fifteen,” He instructs. “Jin, Jeongguk, and Yoongi, you will stay behind,”

A gentle smile curves on your lips at Jimin's decision. A smart choice on his part, he was leaving back-up just in case something were to happen while he was away. And if something were to happen to him, there would be people to look after the gang.

The mouths of the men called opened and closed, the words of protest dying on their tongue when faced with the hard glare of the mafia don.

“Tomorrow, the people I didn’t call the names of are to meet at the front of the house at 1 p.m. sharp,” He commands, his gaze landing on you as he leaves for the door. A silent demand for you to follow him.

“For now, the meeting is adjourned,” He calls, his back to the group.

Light currents of cool spring air wash through the front gardens. A gentle glimmer of sunlight shining past the few clouds that dotted the vast skies warmed the air, creating a comfortable temperature. The coolness of the wind soothingly caresses your body, crashing and receding like the fluid waves of the oceans as you wait for everyone to arrive at the front doors. If only you were able to properly enjoy this beautiful day.

A strange tightness had taken hold in your chest, forming a sort of a ball in the center of your chest cavity. It would have been easier to ignore if that was all it had been, but that metaphorical ball had been constantly exuding just a surge of nervous energy, almost like the winds that were blowing through the vicinity. It wasn’t that you were nervous about meeting Duri, you had already done that once, you could certainly do it again. And it wasn’t that not all of the core members would be with you, as long as one of them were with you, you would have been fine. Besides, Jimin would be with you.

And you knew it wasn’t because Shelty wasn’t going to be tagging along this time around. Seeing as before the mafia incident, you had rarely ever taken Shelty everywhere you went, aside from the flower shop and on her daily walks, she was usually home.

But perhaps the agitation you were feeling was somehow tied to the weights hanging from your thighs. You swallowed the saliva that had pooled in your mouth, gingerly brushing your fingertips across the bump jutting from the leather holster, skin making contact with the exposed grip of the steel gun.

All your training sessions for the day had been canceled in favor of letting you rest and mentally prepare for the meeting that was to come. And as you were doing just that, cuddled up in your many blankets and pillows when an unexpected visitor showed up at your door bearing even more unexpected gifts.

Yoongi was at your door, holding the leather holster you had currently donned, two guns - a charcoal-black Tanfoglio Witness and a similarly colored Glock 20 to be exact - and several magazines of ten-millimeter bullets.

At first, you had denied the need for the wraps as you would be with Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, and not to mention the other fifteen men that would be attending the meeting with you. But he immediately countered with a “They won’t always be there to protect you”, which was true though you were still reluctant considering you hadn’t had adequate training in firearm handling yet. You had only been working with guns for three days for god's sake! That was when he mentioned that the weapons could be entirely for show and that if Jimin were with you probably wouldn’t even have to draw.

And you finally caved, allowing Yoongi to fit the double thigh holster around your thighs. Which was thankfully not as awkward as you had thought it would be. You had slipped on the belt portion of the holster on your own, and Yoongi simply adjusted the straps to sit comfortably around your clothed flesh.

Heaving another breath lean your weight on your left leg, trying to acknowledge then move on from the heaviness on your thighs.

“Are you nervous, love?” A soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Mm, a little,” You grumble, pressing your face against Jimin’s chest as warm arms encompass your waist.

“Don’t be,” He mumbles, placing a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “You’ll do fine,”

Your cheeks puff at his words. He was talking as though you would be the only one carrying this deal. He was going to be there too.

“What?” He says, squishing your puffed out cheeks with his forefingers and his thumb.

The don chuckles as he watches you struggle to get out of his old. Groaning you twist out of the grasp around your cheeks. Then stepping away from him, an amused eyebrow-raising when he takes in your full form.

“What’s this?” He asks, gently tugging you back to him and facing you towards him. “Did Yoongi give you a gift?” His eyes travel the length of your physique, honey-brown orbs running over every curve.

“Yeah,” You murmur quietly, gaze falling to your feet. A sudden shyness blooming in your chest, the original anxiousness now forgotten. ‘This man,’ He always had an effect on you. No matter the situation or the circumstance - somehow every time he had either a calming effect or a flustering one. Personally, you preferred the calming one.

“You look hot," Jimin marveled, drinking in the image of you with leather holsters wrapped around your waist and thighs.

“Shush you,” You hiss, blood rushing to your face, a pretty pink settling on your cheeks. To which the silver-blond replies with a series of chuckles. But the moment is cut short when a loud ring of his cell-phone.

“Hold on,” He fumbled with his suit pocket, fishing out his phone and answering it.

“Hell一”

“Duir! She’s gone! She’s not there anymore!” Soomin rambles, her voice is urgent, almost frantic as she yells out unfinished sentences.

“Soomin, calm down. What are you talking about?” He calmly questions the girl on the other end. And although Jimin’s voice was as steady as a rock you could hear the slight worry leaving his tone.

“The safe house was attacked, they took Ji-Eun Duri,” Jimin’s expression changes to one of surprise, then to one of irritation.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Your head twists to meet the owner of the voice to land on a confused Taehyung and Namjoon with an equally perplexed Hoseok on their tail. The trio comes to stand beside you.

“What?” The male spat. “Do you know who?”

“Yeong!” Jimin’s eyes widened hearing the name of the culprit. Yeong, but how could that be? He was supposed to be injured, not to mention he had lost a sizable number of men, could he have called for this?

“Are you sure?” He asks the female,

“Yes, now, get over here! And quickly!” Frustrated by his many questions, Soomin curtly reaffirms.

“We’ll be there soon,” Jimin growls out a reply before ending the call and running a foul expression taking hold of his handsome face.

“What’s going on?” Tenderly taking hold of Jimin’s free hand, you question softly.

“Ji-Eun Duri was kidnapped,” Your eyes blew apart hearing the silver-blond’s words, and though you had a thousand questions, for the moment, you kept them to yourself. You would get all the answers you wanted once you met up with Soomin.

“Should I get everyone else together?” Namjoon inquired, his cell-phone already on hand.

“No, just us,” Jimin rebuffs. “Now, let’s head out,” He commanded, nudging you into the limousine that had been waiting for the group.

“You sure took your time,” Soomin grunts, leading your group into the safe house - which was more of a luxurious villa - with a bitter scowl etched onto her face. And the interior was in utter disarray; the furniture was displaced, fragments of glass and other materials littered the ground. Dull russet splotches of different sizes decorated the walls and floor. ‘Bloodstains,’ There was a fight, and a big one at that. The mayhem that began at the main entrance continued throughout the hallways you walked.

‘But why is she here?’ You eyed the female as you followed her through the grand corridors of the lavish home. A pressing question resonating in your skull of her current behavior, her actions. Why was she still here? From what you inferred from the encounter three days prior, the pair seemed close. And going by the agitated demeanor she was presenting, she was distressed. She was worried about her ally’s safety yet she was still here, why? Unless… ‘I see,’ There was a reason she wasn’t out there looking for her friend.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for her too?” A peeved scoff leaves Taehyung plush lips, articulating the question that you had been mulling over. Her corners twitch at the male’s words, her expression morphing into one of suppressed rage.

“She can’t,” Soomin's jaw opens to answer the chestnut-haired mafioso, but you cut her off before the situation had a chance to escalate.

“Well, it’s more of she’s already tried,” You clarify your words. “I’m guessing you only called for us because you couldn’t find Ji-Eun Duri on your own,”

“I’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone with a brain around,” Soomin sneers, banking left at the interaction between two hallways. Taehyung snarls at the female’s off-handed remark. “It’s as (Y/n) says,” She gestures to you with a nod. “I’ve put my best of the best at work they still haven’t found her,”

“I tried calling Duri this morning, but she wouldn’t pick up. But that's nothing new, so I didn't think much of it,” A deep sigh escaping her painted lips as she pushes open one of the double doors of the room at the end of the hallway you had been trekking down.

Once within the confines of the large office room, your eyes widened as you took in the condition of the space. It was pristine; not a single furniture out of place, only the rug had been muddied. But the rest of the room was clean, spotless even. It was almost as if this room was left untouched or…

“This place… ” Taehyung lets his gaze drift throughout the room, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his suit pants as Soomin leads the group towards the desk.

“Later when I showed up for today’s meeting,” Her hands spread to gesture to the interior of the house. “I came to this.”

“Then you couldn’t find her on your own and now you want our help, is that about right?” A questioning brow raises on the chestnut-haired mafioso.

“Yes,” Soomin’s jaw clenched at Taehyung’s brash words, before looking to Jimin, her gaze silently pleading for Bangtan’s aide.

“But,” She pauses. “There’s another reason I needed you, well specifically speaking, why I needed (Y/n),”

“Me?” You point to yourself. What did she need you for?

“That,” She gestured to the rectangular letter paper situated on a book. There was a table printed on the paper; eight rows with five columns. Each row of the first column held a single number, from one to eight with rows eight, six, five, three, and one being highlighted.

Each row of the second column held numbers one through fifteen with numbers highlighted on rows eight, six, five, three, and one.

Each row of the third column held numbers one to thirty with multiple numbers highlighted in two different colors on the same rows as the column before.

The fourth column was similarly organized, only these rows had numbers going from one to thirty-five, once again with some of the numbers highlighted, the colors corresponding with the ones on the third column.

But the fifth column was entirely different; it was handwritten rather than highlighted print. And what was even stranger was that only the first and the sixth row had numbers written in.

“What is that?” You question, gaze flickering back to the female that had brought you here.

“I don’t know,” Soomin’s shoulders rise into a shrug. “This was there when I came in,”

“I knew it was some sort of clue Duri left,” She heaves another sigh. “But I couldn’t figure it out,”

“You couldn’t figure it out so you wanted (Y/n)’s help?” Jimin reiterates Soomin’s words.

“Yes,” She affirms, her arms folding defensively over her chest. “Will you take a look?” Her pleading eyes meet yours. She talked as though you had a choice, if you wanted to keep the alliance then you had no choice to help find the older woman. But knowing that exactly didn’t do you any good, it certainly wasn’t going to help you find Duri any faster.

Exhaling a deep breath you focus your mind. There’s a very good chance she wasn’t even in this room while the abduction happened. But going by the mud on the rug and the way it is positioned, you could tell that whoever brought in all that mud stood on the spot, right in the middle of that expensive rug and chatted with someone. Someone sitting behind that desk.

Plus, seeing as there were no other footprints on the floor, no signs of people searching around the room. Duri must’ve been in here. Easing away from the group you carefully wandered the room. The answer to the clue was in this room. The way she highlighted those numbers, it wasn’t haphazardly done, the highlighter strokes were precise and clear. Not to mention the paper itself, most of the columns and numbers were printed out for god's sake. So this clue had been preplanned, she expected something like this may happen and had already taken precautions. Now the question was where was the answer?

Your intent gaze brushed over every nook, every cranny, every detail of this room. ‘It has to be in here,’ The sofas, the coffee table, the cupboards, the bookshelf一 the bookshelf. You briskly walked over to the tall bookshelf up against the wall behind the desk.

‘Are those numbers?’ Your eyebrows knit together as you delicately run your finger down the spines of a book before you. Examining the books, all of these books were in English, and each of them had numbers at the end of their spines.

‘One, two, three, four…’ Counting out the number of books in each row there were exactly fifteen books, all numbered. ‘Eight rows,’ Your eyes widened as you registered your own words, the pieces of the puzzle started to come together.

The carnage outside, and the lack of carnage in here, the footprints, the clue, it was all falling in place.

“She was in here when it happened,” You mused, your thoughts flowing straight from your head to your mouth. “There wasn’t a fight or struggle. Ji-Eun Duri left with them,”

“What are you talking about?!” Soomin is quick to defend the older woman. “My mother would never leave with the enemy!”

“She didn’t leave by choice, no. But she did cooperate with them. Oh yeah, she left with them, alright,” Hurrying back to the desk, you pick up the paper sitting on the book before your brain finally processing Soomin’s words. “Ji-Eun Duri is your mother?” You blanch at the other female.

“N一no, well, yes. She’s my adoptive mother,” The girl clarifies her hands creating round gestures as she did. “But that’s not the point,” Shaking off the question she speaks.

“Duri would never leave with the enemy,”

“Oh, but she did,” Your head tilts as you rush back to the bookshelf, pulling out the five books highlighted on the first column of the table. “But there’s a reason why she left,”

“Why are you getting books?” Taehyung asks, confusion muddling his already sour expression as he watches you gather book after book in your arms.

Once you retrieved the five books from the shelf back to the desk, you organized them by order of the rows they were in, believing that would be the order of the message.

“You mean the books?” Soomin’s voice quiets as the revelation dawns on her. “The numbers! The shelves! How did I not see that before?!” She exclaims, rushing to the desk, determined to lend you a hand. And to be useful to the search.

“If the first column means bookshelf and the second column means book number. Then the third column must mean page number,” The female mafiosos babbles, catching onto the pattern. “So the fourth column would be the word, but what’s the fifth column?” Frown lines set on her forehead as he faces another dead end.

“If we follow the progression, then the fifth should mean letter,” You chuckle when Soomin was unable to understand the last column even though the answer was right before her.

While you and Soomin were occupied with deciphering the message of the code, turning to the page the paper dictated, then to the word and letter. Another figure entered the chaos which was Ji-Eun’s office.

“Namjoon-ssi, I came here as soon as I could,” A smooth voice, comparable to softest silk spoke from beyond the agape double doors.

“Ah yes, Hyuk, come in,” Namjoon invited the owner of the voice into the room.

Even you couldn’t resist the urge to peek at the holder of such a honeyed voice. Your curious gaze landed on the figure of a beautiful man talking to the don’s right-hand man.

He had porcelain pale skin with a pair of the brightest hazel orbs you had ever laid eyes on. A sharp, defined jawline with pitch-black locks gracefully resting against his forehead. He was truly beautiful, of course to you no one could compare to Jimin, but the specimen standing before you was quite fine as well.

“Oh? Should I be worried?” Jimin chuckles, a deep fuschia dusts your cheeks, having been caught ogling admiring another man.

“Of course not,” You huff, pout puffing onto your cheeks.

“You’re adorable,” The silver-blond whispers, pressing a soft kiss against your plush lips, pulling you into him.

“Oh, hush you,” Mumbling into his pillowy lips, you place once last chaste kiss on them before returning to your code-cracking. A quiet chuckle leaves his cherry-pink lips as he eases away from the desk to the sofas where Taehyung had found himself a seat.

“So when did that happen?” Soomin goads as she flipped the first book of the list open.

“When did what happen?” You return cooly, taking the paper with the message, and rereading over the contents. The sly woman gives you a shit-eating grin, her eyes possessing an incredibly entertained glint.

“Whatever, just turn to page twenty-one,” You commanded. Soomin lets out a soft chortle before turning the page you had instructed to. “There are more than one numbers highlighter on this row, so I’m guessing two different pages,”

“And the highlighter colors must coincide with the which number is for what page,” Soomin adds.

“First is word number three, letters one and five,”

Craning your neck to look into the book, you count the words from the top line to the left, landing on “Jadeites”. What did that even mean?

“Jadeites, so a ‘j’ and an ‘i’,” Soomin noted down the two letters.

“Keep the capitals,” You instruct, a woman cunning enough to create such a message would know to keep those minor details in check.

“Alright, next page,” Soomin looks to you expectantly.

“Twenty-three; word five; letters one, two, three, and four,”

Turning to the commanded page, Soomin counts down the words before reciting her findings. “The word is “during”. So, “d”, “u”, “r”, and “i”,”

“Duri?” Combining together the letters you said aloud the word that came as a result. Your expression hardened at the outcome of the search - it was a sign - you were on the right track.

“Next book,” Sharply you call for the search to continues.

“Right,” Soomin sets down the book in her hold, lifting the next book in sequence.

“Page fifteen; words twelve and twenty,”

“It’s “thirty” and “eight”, any letters?” She asks. With a shake of your head, you reply a silent ‘no’.

“Okay next,” Picking up the next novel, she asks for directions.

“Page ten; words seven, twenty-eight, and thirty,’’

“So, “at”, “i” and “cloud”,” The peach-blonde woman read out her findings.

‘At I cloud,’ Wasn’t that... Your eyes wide as you finally understood Drui’s plan. And if your hunch was correct then this would certainly lead you directly to her.

“Soomin, what kind of phone does Ji-Eun carry?” You ask, urgency lacing your voice.

“An apple, why?” She answers, and the realization is immediate “Oh!”

“I’ll go get a laptop,” Soomin calls, scurrying out of the room.

“What happened?” Taehyung straightens in his seat when Soomin abruptly dashes out of the office. “What’s going on? Where is she going?” A slew of questions falls from the brunette's lips as he slowly lowers himself onto the sofa.

“What’s wrong, love? Did you two find something?” Jimin inquires, cruising over to where you furiously turned pages of a thick book.

“If this is what I think it is then it’ll only be minutes until we find her,” You say as you run your fingers across the page of the book, eyes scanning over the many words before taking a shaky step back. A wide grin curling on your lips.

“Oh, you sneaky woman,” Chuckling with a shake of your head you scribble down words onto a piece of paper.

“Alright, I got it,” Soomin returns with a slender silver laptop computer.

“I thought Ji-Eun didn’t have a tracker on her,” Hoseok said, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“That’s what I thought too,” Soomin admitted, taking long and unjustifiably confident strides towards the desk.

“Wait, so she does have a tracker?” Taehyung's statement sounds more of a question as he tries to piece together what the two crazy women were spouting.

“Not exactly,” The peach-blonde female purs.

“I am thoroughly confused,” The crimson-haired mafioso mumbles, arms folded over his chest, Hoseok stands beside Namjoon at the desk.

“You see she carries an Apple phone,” You begin, your excited gaze meeting their befuddled ones.

“And?” Taehyung grunts. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You see, most to all smart-phones these days come with a built-in GPS tracker, and that is especially for Apple,” The peach-haired female continues your explanation.

“All Apple devices come in with a “Find My Phone” feature where you can track your lost phone from an Apple computer or any other IOS device by using your Apple ID and signing into iCloud,” Piggybacking on Soomin’s continuation you fully expound the group in your findings.

“So you intend to track Duri’s location from her phone,” Jimin restates your intentions in clear terms, shuffling closer to better see the computer screen.

“Okay, settings, and here’s the Apple ID,” You instruct, shuffling the piece of paper the peach-blonde had jotted down the fragments of the encoded message.

As directed, she opens the settings of the computer, typing the email of the apple ID into the text bar before clicking the next option.

“The password?” Her questioning gaze lifts to meet yours.

“Come find me, no space,” You answer with a knowing grin.

“No, she didn’t,” Soomin crowed, pressing both her palms on the desk, her faze holding an oddly amused yet annoyed expression.

Scoffing, the blonde enters the password, immediately scouring the settings for the “Find My Phone” feature once the program accepted the password.

“And there she is,” Airily, Soomin breaths out. The tracking feature promptly displayed the image of the phone’s location. A smile erupts on your face as you see all your hard work pay off. Your chest blooming with pride at your achievement, in such a short time frame no less.

However, the sense of victory is short-lived when you realize that someone could have easily taken Duri’s cell-phone and planted it in another location, possibly a trap. It wouldn’t be too difficult to do so. Not to mention it would make an incredibly effective trap as you would have no choice but to fall for the trap, that is if you wanted to retrieve Duri.

“(Y/n)?” Jimin calls your name, quickly noting your now crestfallen expression.

“The phone could have been planted,” You mumble. “This could be a trap,”

The energy of the room falls, just as yours had, before a honeyed voice chime in.

“Then why don’t we have people scout the area from afar?” The charcoal-haired man that had later entered the scene suggests.

“And you are?” You ask the male standing across from you, beyond the desk. That was the man you had been caught ogling, his pitch-black locks falling to the side with the slight tilt of his head.

“Ri Hyuk, but please call me Hyuk (L/n)-ssi” He introduces himself with a soft bow.

“Oh, and you already know me?” Surprise lacing your tone, unaware that word about yourself had spread in the mafia community.

“With my line of work it would be strange for me to not know,” Chuckling softly, Hyuk pushes his fists into the pockets of his slacks.

“Right,” An awkward replay leaves your lips, unsure of how to react as the male stared daggers into you. His gaze was sharp, plush lips curling into a foxy smile. The more you interacted with the male the more he disconcerted you, you could feel his eyes appraising you, analyzing you. That man may have been handsome; he did not exude the warmth Jimin did, in fact, Hyuk’s presence brought a certain chill to the room.

“Okay so why don’t you give me the location you found and I’ll send out a team to scope out the place?” Namjoon offers, his voice bringing you back from your thoughts.

“Uh, yeah,” Your head turns to Soomin expectantly, your brain having ceased all function at the moment.

“Here, just take the computer,” She lifts the slender body of the laptop, handing the computer to the tall mafioso.

The room settles into a stifling silence as the group waits to hear back from the team Namjoon had sent out. You quietly sat on the sofas beside Jimin, toying with the straps of the holsters around your thighs.

“I have to say (L/n)-ssi, the way you solved the case was quite impressive,” Hyuk speaks, breaking the long quiet.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Sheepishly grinning, you accept the praise before falling back into the silence. Only for the same male to break it once again with an interesting observation.

“I must say, Ji-Eun Duri has quite the taste in flowers,” Humming, Hyuk gestures to the vibrant yellow blossoms decorating the cylindrical lavender flower vase sitting on Duri’s desk.

“Huh?” With all that had been happening you had completely overlooked the beautiful blooms that gracefully sat on the older woman’s desk. You hadn’t realized the onyx haired woman had an interest in flowers.

“Tansies?” Out of sheer habit, your mind had automatically identified the vivid bloom. Your eyes widen, hearing your own words.

“(Y/n), what's wrong?!” Jimin exclaims when you spring out of your seat, your eyes trained on the seemingly harmless flora.

‘Tansies’

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Tansy: Hostiliy; “I declare war against you,”

#mafia au!#mafia au #park jimin x reader #Mafia Park Jimin x reader #Park Jimin #bts mafia au #Mafia Park Jimin #Mafia Jin #mafia namjoon #mafia taehyung #mafia hoseok #mafia yoongi #mafia jungkook #Doctor reader kind of #Purple Irises #Mafia BTS #bts fic

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arin-schreave · 4 years ago

Text

the first appearance of light in the sky before sunrise

before you read i just wanted to say thank you soooooo much to bri for being the most amazing cohost and my voice of reason these past 6+ months and putting up with me (y’all seriously have no idea lol). thank you to everyone who participated in oc6 and for helping make it the fun mess it was with your amazing characters. this fic is is trash but it’s what i’ve got. thank you to bri and ester for editing. my watch has ended.

-anna🙃

HELLO OC6ERS. this has been quite an interesting selection, hasn’t it? and yes. i did put up with anna but it was fun most of the time :) i can’t believe y’all roped me into this hosting thing a second time around, but it’s been a hoot. i hope you enjoyed safiya, wylan, jackson, and my evil villains as much as i did. and to bertha and myr!!!! y’all!!!!!!! idk how your characters have managed to make arin fairly decent in my eyes but you have. quite the feat. many thanks to anna for listening to my screeching advice most of the time, to anya for making the loveliest lady for jackson, and to ester, my homie, for making idalia--the most perfect match for wylan that could ever exist. it’s been WONDERFUL. see you guys next round!!!

-bri <3

You can click here for the Google doc or keep reading below. If you go to the doc please note there are some edits at the bottom of the fic so you may want to come back when you’re done reading and scroll down to the bottom to see them.

October was the hardest before Arin had readjusted to the silence. Everything had gone from chaos to calm in an instant and he hadn’t realized the ways he’d gotten used to it. He’d look for the familiar faces of the Selected only to be disappointed when he remembered that everyone had gone home.

He often wondered what Clemence and Jen would think of the choice he’d made to send them home, followed by too much silence on his part. Arin felt selfish because of the regret he felt for missing them both but he still knew it was the break they all needed. He’d put their lives on hold for months and hadn’t given them as much as he could have during that time. So he was trying to give them the space and time they needed to heal from the damage of the Selection.

Then came November with its highs and lows. Arin spent so many sleepless nights alone in his bed staring up at the ceiling thinking about his mistakes. He thought of how controlling he’d been with Felicity and what it had done to her, how devastated Jen had been when she thought he was eliminating her, the way Clem had been heartbroken when they’d said goodbye… But he was trying to be better. He’d gotten back into running, he’d finally started seeing a therapist again, he cooked for himself. Some days he’d go to the library on campus and spend a few hours doing his work in one of the study rooms before returning to the palace. Others he’d spend in back to back meetings with advisors discussing Illéa’s transition into a casteless society. Still, there was always a lingering empty feeling inside him. Then a call came.

---

It was the quietest Christmastime that Arin could remember there ever being in his home. Servants were still rushing around as they tried to put the final touches on the decorations. The majority of palace staff would soon go on vacation through the beginning of the new year and it would only grow quieter. There wasn't the same level of excitement there usually was during the holiday season.

There was a soft knock at the door and he straightened in his chair while he set aside what he was working on. He glanced down at his watch as he called for her to enter. She was early but only by a few minutes. When she slipped inside the office he noticed she'd kept her jacket on, which meant she didn’t plan on staying long.

He took a deep breath as she walked towards the desk, trying not to think about the last time she'd been in his office. When she’d kissed him in front of Clem. That hurt to think about but for different reasons than it had at the time. When she reached the desk she didn’t sit. Felicity merely raised her eyebrows at him in anticipation.

“Thanks for coming.” He gave her a nervous smile. “It means a lot to me.”

There was some skepticism in the look she gave him when he motioned for her to sit. She even glanced around the office to see if they were alone as if it was all a trick. Then her eyes met his again but still, she remained standing. It gave him somewhat of an uneasy feeling but he ignored it since she was likely uncomfortable as well.

“I know Christmas is over a week away but I wanted to give you your gift early since we won’t be doing things the usual way this year.”

Some of the awkwardness slipped away and Arin could feel the hint of the friendship they’d once had. He’d forgotten how good that felt. For a moment they were who they’d been before they’d ever been Arin & Felicity. They were two childhood friends sharing a moment that was nothing but platonic. He’d missed the sense of ease between them.

He thought about the way things usually were on Christmas. Every year his parent’s friends would come over at some point for a few hours to visit and they’d exchange gifts. When they'd been younger all the kids would play and Felicity had been among them. With everything that had happened they had decided it would be for the best to skip the year’s celebration.

This year the Schreaves would likely attend the Christmas Eve service at church before returning home for a somber meal. Then afterward they would gather in the family room for an hour or two before they all went their separate ways. As for Christmas morning… Well, that was one big question mark. So many things were those days. It was all one day at a time.

“I didn’t get you anything.” She gave him an apologetic look which he waved off.

“Well, I didn’t either.”

Arin glanced over at his desk drawer, taking a moment for himself before he reached down to open it. This moment had been such a long time coming and he was ready. He pulled the little velvet box from where it had been sitting for almost a year and set it on the desk. Felicity’s eyes widened with recognition as he slid the small box towards her. She swallowed hard, one hand going up to cover her lips as she only stared at it. He couldn’t help but smile a bit at the reaction, knowing her well enough that he was able to tell she was far from upset.

“Lis, I’ll always love you no matter where we are or who we’re with, you know that.” It felt good for him to say what he knew he’d been feeling the last couple of months. “But only as a friend. I’ve known you longer than almost anyone in my life and you aren't someone I could ever replace. But we aren’t the same people we were five years ago or even last year and we both know that’s for the better.”

Felicity reached up and wiped at her eyes, huffing a laugh before she mumbled something about how unfair he was being. Her eyes met his as she picked up the ring box, one thumb brushing over the top with fondness. She was silent for a few moments while she enjoyed the familiarity of the velvet against her skin.

“I know things are busy this year but please don’t put off getting her present. It’s your first Christmas.” She looked down at the ring box with a soft smile.

He could tell how much it meant to her that he’d given it back. Given how things had ended between them proper etiquette was that she return the ring and she had. But what was Arin going to do with it? He couldn’t propose with it or ever give it to his future… spouse, which meant that it would only end up tucked away in some corner of the vault collecting dust.

Felicity didn’t know that Arin had yet to figure out what he was going to do. Not that she would since they didn’t speak often and he wasn’t sure how much his sister told her. It was a reasonable assumption that he’d have made a decision by now even though there’d been no announcement. There'd been so much going on recently that Arin's priority wouldn't have been that, which Felicity knew.

“It doesn’t matter since I’m not sure when I’ll see her next anyway. Jen is with her family in Waverly for Christmas.”

Arin paused at that as he processed what he’d said. He replayed the sentence in his head to make sure he’s said what he thought he had. Then he narrowed his eyes at Felicity. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him.

“What did I say?” He asked somewhat cautiously.

She gave him a confused look as if she didn’t understand the question. Then seeing that she’d heard him right she frowned.

“You said Jen is in Waverly for Christmas.” She answered. “Is there a problem?”

Arin tugged at his collar. He began to count in his head as he took a steadying breath. He knew Felicity was someone he could talk to but not about this. Not yet. Maybe one day they’d completely go back to the way they were before they’d been together but they weren’t there yet.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry to keep things so short but I have a meeting in a few minutes,” Arin told her.

He didn’t but he glanced at his watch anyway. She knew him well enough to know it was Arin telling her he needed to be alone. Felicity nodded in understanding but didn’t move quite yet. Then she stepped around his desk, giving the box a couple gentle taps against the surface. She stood there a few more moments but then she shook her head, changing her mind about what she was going to ask him.

“Merry Christmas, Arin.” She said in a hushed voice, then turned to leave.

Arin leaned back in his chair once she was gone, a million thoughts running through his mind. He thought about the two women who had become his world over the past couple of months. Both were kind and wonderful. But he couldn’t be with both of them. When he thought about Jen he couldn’t help but smile and feel warm inside. She had a way of lighting up everything around her and making it all feel so alive. Then there was Clem who was soft and sweet and reminded him that he could always keep going. When she looked at Arin he felt like his mistakes meant nothing and all would be forgiven.

Each woman meant more to him than he could put into words. They’d seen Arin as he was and they still wanted him despite it all. Through the ups and downs, they’d stood by him, giving him their time and love. He’d known for some time that he was in love as well but up until then, he’d thought it possible he had equal feelings for them both. He’d been searching for an answer and there she was. She’d been in front of him all along.

He had the vague memory of telling her that she wouldn’t ever be happy with him but that didn’t feel so true anymore. So much had happened since then. She'd seen him at his worst and together they’d gone through more in the span of a few weeks than most couples went through in years. Jen had become someone he relied on and turned to when things were hard. She’d held him that night in the kitchen when he’d burnt the cookies, she’d tried her best to comfort him when he’d been sick in the Great Hall after they’d somehow stayed alive, and she’d been behind him every step of the way during the funeral procession. Even when she'd broken up with him she'd been the person he'd wanted to share it with.

Their moments weren’t always perfect and rarely turned out as planned but each one added up and made them who they were together. They’d had sad moments like when Jen had told him how well he’d done the day of his mother’s funeral. Then there had been the in-between moments like the day in the library when she’d told him what had happened with Ian. He’d been so careful and scared. But then there were the happy moments. There was the simplicity of painting with her in the attic, grocery shopping in a supermarket with narrow aisles, reaching for her in the middle of the night, the way she would laugh at his terrible jokes, so many things…

Arin thought of Felicity then. There had been love between them but at some point, over the past months, it had slipped away. Looking back on it, it didn’t feel the same way being with Jen felt. Somehow everything with Jen felt so much brighter and vivid. When he thought of her there was a pleasant heavy feeling in his chest and if he tried to imagine his life without her it felt meaningless. There were so many things unspoken between them and yet they both knew they were safe together. It only ever took one word.

He needed to think. It was Thursday and Arin had talked to Jen recently enough that he knew she’d be arriving back in Illéa on Monday. He had a weekend to figure out what he wanted to do if he even wanted to tell her that soon. Talking to someone would help but Wylan wouldn’t be the best person since he was with Jen and Arin didn’t want to put more on his plate. Wylan deserved to enjoy the rest of his vacation with his girlfriend- even if they had a third wheel.

Arin considered his mom but wanted someone more level-headed… so the obvious choice was Safiya.

---

When Arin found his sister in the family room on the third floor, she was curled up on one of the couches beneath a blanket. She had her laptop resting on her lap, playing a movie. Safiya didn’t pause what she was watching as Arin walked towards her, a hint of a smile on his face. He could already tell she knew something was up as he sat on the couch across from her.

“Do you have a second?” He asked after watching her for a long moment.

Being curious, Safiya paused what she was watching with a nod and set her laptop down on the coffee table. She laid back down on her side, still snuggled beneath the blanket facing him.

“A few. It looks important”

Arin took a deep breath, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. He noticed how Safiya wasn’t sitting up the way she normally would have been but the past months had been hard on everyone, her especially. Not only had she lost a parent but so had Theo.

“It’s actually very important.” It’s actually about Jen. He smiled a bit.

Safiya’s smile matched his own as she tucked one hand against her cheek.

“Finally joining the club?” She wiggled her ring finger enough for him to notice.

Arin blushed at the suggestion. The thought had crossed his mind but hearing someone else bring it up made it feel more real. Most mentions of marriage with Jen had been brief and made as jokes. Yet that's what he wanted. He wanted to marry her one day and have a life. If that was what she still wanted with him.

“I don’t know…” Arin admitted, grimacing in embarrassment. “I haven’t talked to her yet. And she doesn’t know it’s her.”

“You should probably remedy that.” She told him, her voice calm as she spoke despite her growing smile.

Arin nodded in agreement. He had every intention of telling Jen- assuming she’d listen. He thought back to the conversation they’d had in the early hours of the previous morning. They’d had moments during the call where they’d been at odds but at the end of it, they’d been... them and it made him optimistic.

“She’s in Italy with Wylan right now and won’t be back for a couple more days.” Arin was grinning at that point. “So I have a bit of time to think.”

He knew all it would take was a text or a phone call or even getting on a plane but he needed to think things through. Arin was certain about Jen but he wanted to make sure he got things right. He had four days until she was back in Illéa which felt like too much time and not enough time all at once.

“I’m happy for you, you know,” Safiya told him in a quiet voice.

Arin chuckled a bit at the realization that he hadn’t said Jen’s name out loud a single time the entire conversation. Safiya was smart enough to know who he was talking about from the mention of Wylan since she knew about his trip. Still, Arin wanted to make sure they were on the same page.

“It’s Jen. I realize I should have led with that. Sorry.” Arin ran his fingers through his hair with some anxiousness. “It’s been a weird day.”

He paused, taking a moment to consider his next words more carefully. It was a delicate topic that most people had grown used to tiptoeing around with him. He hadn’t told anyone what his plans had been with Felicity though he’d mentioned he'd be seeing her that afternoon to Jen during a conversation. She’d asked how he’d felt because he’d been so nervous and she could tell something was off.

“I just came from giving Felicity her engagement ring back.”

Safiya raised her eyebrows at that. Arin was sure she’d be hearing about from Felicity at it some point. It was possible she already knew since Felicity would have had time to text Safiya and she’d been waiting for him to bring it up. Though he figured was unlikely.

“Oh? Did that go well?” She asked.

He furrowed his eyebrows briefly as he thought back to when he'd returned the ring. Arin focused on those last moments before Felicity left and the way she’d stepped around the desk. Then there’d been the hesitation. That was the only part of the interaction he had any uncertainty over but he kept that to himself and nodded in response to his sister’s question.

“It went surprisingly well. She seemed to appreciate it.” He answered, stopping a moment to bite at his lip. “It felt right since I didn't have any use for it.”

“I don’t think Jen would appreciate a ring given to your former fiancée,” Safiya replied with more of her usual snark.

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I've already bought her a brand new ring that looks exactly the same?” Arin smirks a bit as he speaks. “I thought her only issue would be that it's used.”

Safiya half snorted and shifted onto her back to face towards the ceiling. Arin wondered if she was feeling well but didn’t dare ask. His sister had the best handle on her health out of anyone he knew. But still, he worried about her.

“You’ve reached the end and yet still so much to learn.”

“Don't worry, I haven't given the ring a single thought considering she broke up with me a few weeks ago.” He sighed. “I have that mess to fix first.”

“Is that what made you realize she’s who you want to be with?” Safiya gave him a sideways glance.

Arin rubbed at his forehead, feeling like it would overcomplicate things to explain how the conversation had gone. She’d only been the person who gave him the push in the right direction. Even if he couldn’t pinpoint the moment he’d fallen in love with Jen it certainly hadn’t been twenty minutes ago in an office with his ex-fiancée.

“Not quite. I’m sure that helped but there was this moment with Felicity where it was so easy like we were friends again. Maybe I just needed to let go.”

“Sometimes it takes letting go to realize what you want to hold onto.” She hummed, eyes going back to the ceiling.

Arin frowned as he went over his sister’s words. He thought back to the attack in the Great Hall, remembering the moments of uncertainty and the whispers in the chaos. She’d told him that she loved him for the first time. Jen had told him since as well, even when things had gone wrong on their Greece trip. Even then.

“I’ve already lost her more than once and if she’ll take me back and I think she will, I don’t ever want to let her go.”

“So... what did you come here to ask me?” She nodded before asking more quietly. “Or did you just want to let me know?”

“I came to tell you because you're my sister and one of my best friends…” He paused and huffed a laugh. “But right now I'd kind of like you to tell me what to do because some crazy part of me wants to drop everything and fly to Italy and sweep her off her feet but I don't feel like that's the right move.”

He knew it was ridiculous but he had an overwhelming feeling that he’d wasted so much time being an idiot. And he knew the feeling was right. He’d paused the Selection two months before and while he’d made progress for the country and even some for himself he felt like without her it didn’t mean nearly as much. But Safiya immediately shaking her head told him that she agreed with him for once.

“I've talked to Wylan a bit and seen how it's going from pictures.” Safiya pursed her lips slightly. “And she broke up with you. Let her enjoy the time where she doesn't have to be stressed about something else being asked of her after... everything. I don't think she needs to be swept off her feet. She needs to be told that she's all you could ever want and you're willing to spend the rest of your lives showing her how much she's valued.”

“When we spoke yesterday we left things on a really good note and I haven’t stopped thinking about everything she said. I want to spend the rest of forever giving her everything even knowing things won't always be easy.”

“Is this a sensible, adult decision I hear coming out of your mouth right now?” She asked, the corner of her mouth lifting into a half-smile.

“Seriously, Safiya?” Arin narrowed his eyes at her. “I am the leader of a country and you're going to tease me about adult decisions?”

“Someone has to.” She chuckled.

“You, Wylan, Mom, Jen...” Arin held up a hand then put a finger down for each of the names he listed off emphasizing Jen’s because he'd let her tease him every day for the rest of forever if she wanted.

“Jen's the only one who will be as honest as I am, and since she's not in a place to tell you this, I will.” She waved her hand.

Real or genuine. That’s what she’d said her name meant and she was never anything but. Jen, Jennie, Bee… She felt like the most real person in his life. And he never wanted that to change.

“I think she might be harder on me than you are though.” Arin joked, reaching for one of the pillows which he pulled to his chest.

“You say that as if it's a bad thing,” Safiya said with a small laugh.

“I’m afraid you’d both get along a little too well.” He raised his eyebrows at her.

He wasn’t sure how much time his sister had spent with Jen in the months she’d lived in their home but he was certain that they’d get along. Safiya would gain a sister which was something Arin knew she wouldn’t take lightly. It had only been the two of them the majority of their lives until the past few years. They’d added Wylan, then Theo who Arin was still working on getting used to, and he hoped Jen would be next.

“You should be happy she'll get along with the in-laws.” She told him, amused at the thought.

Arin gave her a sad smile as he thought about their mother. He knew their loss haunted them both every day but he wanted to focus on the things they had to look forward to even if it was only briefly. Though he wondered how soon things would settle. He was still adjusting to his brother in law and the transition was still strange for him to wrap his brain around at times.

“Well, I don't come with a lot of people. It's just you, Mom, Wylan, and Theo.”

“You don't need a whole village. I think we'll suffice.” She briefly returned the smile before it faded when her thoughts also went to what they’d lost.

Arin grew more concerned as he observed the look on Safiya’s face. The past months had taken their toll on the entire family but seeing his sister act so… ordinary worried him. It seemed to Arin that it was more difficult than usual for Safiya to keep up her usual appearances.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked in a softer tone.

She stayed facing the ceiling. Safiya didn’t smile again but she didn’t let herself delve into the dark feelings the attack brought on.

“Fine. For the most part.” She sighed, looking over at him. “Maybe you can invite her over for New Year’s.”

He pursed his lips at the sudden subject change. It was strange for him to see his sister deflect in the same way he did. They both knew she wasn’t fine and saying it wouldn’t make it so. Still, he blew out a breath and decided to let it go for the time being.

“What are the big plans this year?”

“Homemade pizza, champagne, and watching the ball drop from the couch.” An absent smile formed on her lips. “Theo still needs rest.”

Arin nodded in understanding. Anyone who had been there still needed rest but that wasn’t possible. At least Theo was taking his time with his recovery. He could imagine the loss of a parent having also experienced it but he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of witnessing what Theo had after enduring everything the night of the attack.

“It'll be his first Christmas and New Year's away from home, won't it?”

“They do Christmas a little differently so I’m leaving that to him.” Safiya nodded.

“It'll be different for us all this year I think. A lot quieter than usual.” Arin told her.

“At least Wylan will be around.” She replied as she thought about how she’d been missing him.

Arin smiled at the idea. At least some things stayed the same. They’d each been so busy that they hadn’t gotten to talk as much as they should. After everything, he’d almost expected Wylan would spend Christmas in Clermont. Though he wasn’t sure why. However, Allens seemed like another decent possibility as well.

“I haven't spent enough time with him recently,” Arin admitted.

“He's preoccupied with his future wife.” She chuckled to herself.

Arin wondered if they’d have had more than just a couple days if things could have been different. Maybe he’d have come to his senses… She wouldn’t have broken up with him. But as lovely as the thought was he knew it wouldn't have happened.

“I wish I had the time.” He sighed. “But I have meetings and a million other things to do. And Felicity reminded me about all the Christmas shopping I haven't done.”

“And what are you getting for Jen, hm?” Safiya asked.

“Am I allowed to say myself?” Arin joked in a serious tone after biting at his lip.

His sister’s only response was an intense flat look which caused him to roll his eyes in response. Sometimes she didn’t appreciate his sense of humor as much as he would have liked.

“I wasn't serious.”

“Good.” She said with mild amusement.

“Just because we talked yesterday doesn't mean we'd get back together if I told her I wanted to. So I may not need to get her anything for Christmas.”

“I think a gift might soften it, Arin.” She chuckled.

That seemed like it wouldn’t go over well. He wasn’t sure showing up out of the blue with a gift would be what Jen wanted. He’d expect a telling off if he pulled that move. Though he deserved to be told off regardless of how he went back to Jen. He knew that much.

“Are you saying I should just start sending gifts now?”

“Everything in moderation.” She fiddled with the blanket on her lap. “One gift and some suppressed Arin honesty should suffice.”

“At this point, I’m not sure there’s a point in toning down who I am.” He told her, furrowing his eyebrows as he spoke. “She already knows.”

“Everyone could use a little self-improvement.” Safiya shot him another flat look.

“It’s possible I’d rather focus on the country first.” He shrugged.

Safiya sighed. She didn’t feel like opening the same can of worms again since it never seemed to get them anywhere. Though Arin wasn’t trying to get on her nerves with that statement. He had so much he wanted to do for Illéa and he felt like even if he had years it would never be enough. There were so many things leftover from the previous generations of Schreaves that needed to be fixed.

“Congratulations.” She told him, having summoned a smile. “I'm happy with your choice, not that you really needed my approval.”

He knew he didn’t need her to say that but he did at the same time. Arin needed someone to tell him what he wanted was right. It might have been shallow but it reassured him.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“Yes.” Safiya chuckled. “Very wonderful.”

“She’s the one, Sia.” He smiled, thinking about Jen.

“I know.” She said softly. “Go get her, Arin.”

Go get her.

That was all Arin wanted to do.

There were so many things he was still uncertain about but Jen wasn’t one of them. With her next to him he was sure the rest would fall into place. She wanted more which she’d made sure to tell him and he wanted more too. He wanted the ups and downs and the times in between. Arin didn’t want only one more minute with Jen. He wanted a lifetime of moments and minutes with her.

He’d told her that it would be easier if it was a choice they could make together and she’d agreed. Now he’d made his choice. Whatever came next they could decide together. Together. Jen and Arin. He liked the sound of that.

#the selection #selectionoc #schreave fic #challenge ten

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donkey-hyuck · 5 years ago

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Leader Taeyong request!!🥺💞

25+32+75: “What the hell were you thinking?!” , “Why are you doing this?” , “What did you expect?” Member: Taeyong, ceo! Au

Here’s the link to the prompt list!

⚠️this includes suicidal thoughts/attempts and depression!! PLEASE DON’T READ THIS if you get triggered, thank you⚠️

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Taeyong was the I.T. fashion ceo. He owned multiple brands, but his biggest brand was ‘The Lee’s Express’ stores found all over Southeast Asia. And he was undeniably gorgeous, no wonder he was such a powerful fashion ceo. With a sharp nose and chin, and a jaw chiseled by the gods, he was worshipped by people across the globe. He was young, only twenty five, but he was to get engaged.

You and Taeyong had met when he was still in college. Through mutual friends, you two immediately clicked and became close since then. He was engaged to you and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loved you more than life itself, only you wished your life was never brought upon this world.

Taeyong knew, of course. Over the years he’d known you, he’s seen the severe pain, and only wished you the best, but it had yet to come. You were diagnosed with depression in middle school, dealing with your parents divorce, and handling your alcoholic and drug addict mother, you’d learned about the responsibilities very early in life, taking care of your mother more than yourself. You didn’t hate your mother, though she always brought you down, but she was there, and you didn’t have the heart to leave her. Your life was immensely difficult.

You were struggling your jobs, academics, and your mother. When you met Taeyong, he was there to help you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Along the way, you stumbled upon some unknown feelings toward the male and you were unsure if he felt the same way. Lucky for you, he shared the same feelings and your relationship became quite public. He was a new ceo at the time, and he was the top buzz of Asia for quite some time. Coming with the fame and recognition, came hatred and jealousy. Mostly directed toward you, Taeyong’s most prized person.

You and his sister had been out, shopping and bonding even closer. You were thankful of the family. In fact, they were one of the only people that made you feel like you actually had one. His sister was in the fitting room, trying on some clothes for her brothers three year company anniversary party. You already had something picked out, while she practically begged you to come with her to multiple boutiques. While sitting on the couch, and scrolling through your phone, two pair of legs stood before you. Some workers, which you immediately recognized, from Taeyong’s company. “I don’t know what he sees in her. She’s just a lazy bitch, look at her.” And all at once the overwhelming feeling cascaded over you. They grabbed you by your hair, “Don’t act all high and mighty, you’re not capable of being with Mr. Lee.” You knew you weren’t, but Taeyong always made sure you were treated like a porcelain doll. And all of a sudden, your breath had gotten shorter and tears faded down your cheek. You stormed out of the store. Just in time for his sister to see, they went through your bag. And Taeyong’s sister slapped each of them on their cheeks, her wedding ring cutting them in the process. “Taeyong is my brother, they are to be wedded soon. There is no way you’re treating her like that. Get out of my face before your Mr. Lee gets disappointed, again.” Shocked, the pair of girls look at the beautiful young woman. “Go! Go! It really is Mr. Lee’s sister!” , “Pathetic.”

You ran outside and walked down the street, trying to calm yourself down. And you found yourself sitting at come cafe not far from where the boutique was. “Y/N?” You recognized that voice in an instant and looked up. It was Seulgi RV DHSJDJ sorry lol, an old friend of yours. “Hey, hey. What happened to you?” , “Y/N!” It was Taeyong’s sister, running into the cafe with her hands full of your things that you left at the boutique. “I’ll see you around Y/N,” said Seulgi as she patted your back and his sister gave her a glare.

“Sorry for leaving. I hadn’t had a panic attack in years. And what they said really bothered me, I guess.” , “Oh gosh! Don’t apologize, beautiful! I totally get why you left. But don’t worry, I’m here to protect you. What did you expect? Me to just leave you? I could never oh my gosh!”

It was later that evening, and she brought you to her house to comfort you, informing Taeyong what had happened. “Where is she?!” Said he, pushing past the doors and running directly toward you. “I’m okay Yong. Your sister helped me.” , “I’m sorry angel. I should have been more careful with our relationship. You have been suffering all these years and yet you continue to stay with me.”

But everything only went downhill after this.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

It was the night of the anniversary party. Taeyong had asked you to get your hair, makeup, and outfit done in his office. Claiming that he felt less nervous when you were there. The stylists came and sat you in a chair across the mirror in the bathroom. The hair and makeup was quite simple.

Your hair curled in a half bun updo with two braids located on each side of your head, meeting in the bun. Makeup was very glowy and natural, little brown shades in the crease of your eyes as a light pink shimmer covered your lids. Your dress was a beige princess gown style silk dress. It was a bit tighter around your chest and torso but flared out and had a small train as the dress reached the floor. There was also a small slit on the right side of the dress, exposing your right leg a bit more.

Taeyong had planned the party to start at around 7 P.M. and he and his fiancé— you— were to meet the guests at around 7:30. And when the two of you entered the room, cheering and whistles filled the entirety of it.

“Firstly, I would like to thank everyone who was able to make it here tonight! I’m so glad my business is lifting off and that my team and I could make it this far. Secondly, I would like to thank my soon-to-be wife for standing with me through it all. We’ve gone through so much together and she practically helped me with ideas when I first started out. Thank you and please enjoy the rest of the night!” Cheers again.

It had been about an hour into the party and you’ve lost sight of Taeyong at this point. It was fine with you, considering this was his party. You’d been talking with Jaehyun, a good friend of yours, and he actually helped set you and Taeyong up. “Hey Y/N! Have you seen Seulgi? I’ve been looking for her for a while now and I can’t find her.” You shake your head no and look for Taeyong, just to ask around. And soon, you realized you’d been trying to locate him for ten minutes before giving up and talking to some of the guests and employees.

9 P.M. sharp. You distinctly remember this. Walking up to the office to rest your head from the communicating and loudness in the room. Until you heard Taeyong and Seulgi’s voice. “What will make you believe me? You’ve been with her for so long. Can’t you see that she’s using you? Or are you too in love with her?” Lies. It was all lies, what she told Taeyong. You were friends, yes, but you were aware of her little crush on Taeyong years ago. She was jealous at the time, and obviously she was still jealous, even now.

Disturbed was the word. After a few moments of contemplation, you entered the quiet room to be met with their bodies close together. The whole scene before you, there were no words to utter.

You ran and ran. Past the guests, and past the double doors of the company. Unfortunately, it was terribly cold that night. But you didn’t have any thoughts beside the horrific moment that you had just witnessed.

It felt like hours before you stopped running. It was somewhere around the park. The park you escaped to before your parents divorce. The place where you felt a place of security. And now, it’s a place where you were to be gone. Slowly stripping out of the dress, you shiver and your lips and neck turn purple, while the goosebumps on your body try to keep you warm. Stepping into the freezing lake, your head is dipped in the water and you fight off the need to breathe. Then everything turned black.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

The blaring beeping of the machine wakes you up. You were still shivering when you were conscious enough to wake up. “It’s cold,” you chattered your teeth and Taeyong immediately ran when he heard your voice. “What the hell were you thinking?! Angel, please listen to me, I know what you saw earlier but it was all misunderstanding.” , “Where’s your sister?”

His sister had ushered him out of the room. Completely take aback and disappointed about what you had told her. “Let’s get you some rest and warmth. When the doctors told us you had hypothermia, I went to by a heater and hot packs. Use them, please. I know you don’t want to be here anymore. But believe me, I want you here. And no matter what you saw, I know Taeyong still loves you, and I know he wants you here.” She hugged you before leaving the hospital.

“I’m sorry. Visiting hours will be open in seven hours. You can see her then,” said the nurse to Taeyong. “But I’m her husband. I should be in there!” , “I’m sorry Mr. Lee, but we had already disobeyed the hospital rules for you and your sister. You have to go home, you can see her in the morning.” Giving up, Taeyong walked out to meet his sister in the car.

“What did you do? You must’ve done something considering what she just went through. How could you let her suffer like that? Do you realize that she had been suffering so much these past weeks.” His sister talked in such a disappointing tone as they drove to his house. “It was truly a misunderstanding. From her angle it looked like I was kissing Seulgi. But I swear I wasn’t. I love Y/N with all my heart. I could and would never do that to her. She’s the love of my life.”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

You’d been discharged from the hospital three days after. Barely speaking a word to Taeyong, but laughing whenever his sister joked around. This made his heart hurt and wanted to prove so much to you that he and Seulgi weren’t doing anything— because he truly loved you.

At this point, you’d been ignoring Taeyong in the house, well, whenever he was home. He was beyond shocked when you moved your things to a guest room far from your shared master bedroom. It took him two days to find out you had moved rooms. Clearly, you didn’t want to interact with him. At all. But he didn’t want to give up so easily. You didn’t even want to sign divorce papers, which made him think he still had hope.

The day before, Taeyong’s sister had called you that it was all a false alarm. And that Taeyong and Ssulgi did nothing. However, you were stubborn and refused to believe it.

One night, Taeyong had come home early and cooked you food. When delivering it to you, the door was slightly opened and he could see you dancing to some Bruno Mars song. Quietly laughing, he placed the plate of food on the floor before placing the note next to it, knocking on your door, and hiding behind the nearest wall. “Please eat. I don’t know if you already ate but I want you to fill your stomach. At least a little bit. I love you- Taeyong.” Scoffing, you shut the door. He gulped when he heard the lock to the door. Looking back, everything was back to where he left it.

Sighing, he took the plate and gloomily walked toward the kitchen. There was a knock coming from the inside of your room and a note was slid under your door. “I already ate.” The response was meaningless and short, making Taeyong sigh again.

“Angel.... you don’t have to open the door. I just want you to know what happened that day. My sister probably told you already. But it’s all true. You know I wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you, especially cheat on you. That’s such an inhumane thing to do, especially to you. But may I ask you.... why are you doing this? It hurts me that you’re not talking to me. It hurts me that you’re avoiding me.... please, just talk to me.”

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sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 4 years ago

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Lithuania brings yellow fever to Rotterdam 2021

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...okay...

...I feel the rhythm...

*swoosh*

...something’s going on here...

*another swoosh*

The music flows through my ve-e-e-ve-veins𝒔𝒔𝒔𝒔𝒔𝒔𝒔

---------------------

IT’S TAKING OVER MEEEEEE

oh NO IVETA WTF ARE YOU DOING HERE IN LITHUANIA REVIEW GO HOME

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

‘Bout the fucking time I am gonna talk about our bois, eh?

The Roop formed somewhere in around 2009, back when the lead singer Vaidotas Valiukevičius probably felt like he needed to be in a band, after many years of twists and turns of being a solo pop sensation and then it all ceasing a year prior. In 2009 he did get to cross paths with the drummer Robertas and the guitarist Mantas, one of them not being very fond of working with a former pop sensation but eventually giving into it. They had a small start, kinda went nowhere, but in the end they did start get some gigs at some point, and the gigs were small. For a band existing for so long and needing recognition, something eventually happened and they ended up on the Eurovizijos 2018 with “Yes, I Do”, which is more closer to the band’s older repertoire, because of course, they hadn’t hit big with their new sound just yet.

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And when I first heard it, I was mindblown how good and stylish did it sound??? Yeah, somehow, I would never have had this sort of expectation in my life that I would’ve been mesmerized by a band I’ve never heard of (but I’ve heard of its lead singer and his past career but haven’t thought of him in years), but it’s just nowadays the thing that happens to me, when artists I don’t have many expectations for by name just slay my existence. (Major paragraphs about one such act coming up on my last review before the 2021 final)

What clicked with me is that song has the undertones about overcoming depression, because Vaidotas was diagnosed with one a year earlier, and it’s coming from Lithuania of all countries... Lithuania, the fucking country that’s number 1 or at the very least top 5 in suicides in handful of categories. And I would’ve loved to see us send such anthem of hope and light for those in need of it, but alas... we preferred love story and husband on stage (who broke up with her anyway sometime later because mutual reasons idek). Not that I’m mad, but it left me miffed and clamouring for The Roop to one day make their big Eurovision break.

And they did! 2 years later we saw the group re-emerge in the new Lithuanian NF’s format, Pabandom iš naujo 2020, with a song that’s different to their usual back-then style, the sleek and quirky dance hit “On Fire”. All was swell and we were actually doing well in the odds and were many people’s faves, but once again, for The Roop it was not meant to reach their dream of reaching out to more audiences, for that Eurovision that they were going to was cancelled, but the panini didn’t stop them, and they still ended up becoming one of the biggest current Lithuanian acts, still getting gigs during the panorama and all that, and awarded for all they had to be awarded for in the Lithuanian Grammy’s equivalent M.A.M.A. This indeed was just the beginning for them. Oh right and they also won the German Eurovision event thingy in place of the real one. And got a silver plastic miniature of the Eurovision trophy. Life is fine.

Then they got a record deal with Warner Music Baltics, went to Finland to do some music work with another Warner branch, and that’s just a part of how “Discoteque”, their entry, was born. It’s a dancy upbeat song, and its lyrics are all about the freedom to dance alone. Nothing to do about quarantine eventhough the “alone”ness suggest otherwise, lol.

REVIEW

I was craving this moment ever since. Though, I kinda thought that the “Discoteque” title was weird on the first glance at the participants/entries list, and not because of it being written without an h. It’s because... The Roop? Going funky? Throwback-esque? After the modernity that “On Fire” was?? hmmm k show what you got mwah mwah xx

And then when it released, it hit me very unexpectedly. Like. Okay. This sounds weird. Very bass-driven, in a way. It has an opening monologue, and a clicking chorus with a KILLER INSTRUMENTAL SECTION???? The one where it makes their hands go crazy when it goes on???

There’s just so much that was put into “Discoteque” that makes it stand out. They even explained certain parts of their song in the music video’s description, like, the extremely syllabic staccato chorus harkens back to the Lithuanian folklore days the way the melody is sung, the bridge made up of odd beatbox noises is meant to symbolize the first human music to ever exist (possibly from mouth sounds), and there’s also this out of key tinkly tune on the bridge that I can’t help but note everytime I listen. As well as I like noting that moment when his voice glitches out in the intro before the verse, and the hi-hats clapping 4 times before the second verse stars. I just love me some little details.

The lyrics are somewhat simplistic, with still some grammar gripes (never heard a soul say “wounded soul” without indicating if it’s “a” or “my” wounded soul???), but at least somewhat better and less cliche than rhyming “fire” with “desire” WHO DOES THAT. But props to The Roop for simply just making people not mind that lyric (at least at large) and now we ended up with an OGAE voting winning song / contender with the “fire / desire” rhyme thrown in there. Mad respect lol. (Yeah and also not a huge fan of the “body’s shaking” line, I guess that’s just me that hates certain words/word combos or think they’re just too weird in context. Apologies)

No but for real, they have crafted and put down a LOT of details in this song, and not just it, but also the choreography (according to them, all inspired by their childhood) and the video (same inspirations as for the choreography), and the whole vibe, and the outfits, and the color scheme (predominantly yellow with purple backdrop and also checkered visuals)... every single thing was crafted out to perfection and I fucking adore it, and I couldn’t have wanted any other way. The MOVES are in THAT specific order they want, although hard to memorize in sequence though, no matter how many times the Roop taught us to dance like them. Also this finger fucker dance move which I still cannot practice without realizing mine are jerky:

No wonder you got them pointing at you, mister, shit’s hard to practice!

And the music video trajectory, oh the music video trajectory (that is still not uploaded on Eurovision’s Youtube channel for some reason. Has it got anything to do with Warner?). Okay, it starts with an “On Fire” callback, with the band leaving to their dressing room, and Vaidotas is by the mirror with his white turtleneck, while a riff begins and he just starts feeling the peculiarity and reveals his yellow suit, and everyone goes for a dance, firstly just with all of the crew that is back from last year (the three Roop members + dancers Marijanas and Miglė), then with a bunch of people in stylish bowl wigs, and then they go back to the dressing room for one final mirror selfie.

my absolute favourite moment is this though. ahh yeah go ahead and feel yaselves

Though I gotta ask, was this move really inspired by Arvydas Sabonis or did Arvydas Sabonis influence The Bangles to walk like an Egyptian first?

It’s yet another quirky song from them, in a somewhat less conventional but at the same time more conventional way. Might have taken me a little time to get invested in it a a bit more, but if it’s an instant success with audiences, I can’t fault them for it, absolutely.

Approval factor: Absolutely. I wanted them for a long time, I am not disappointed. Follow-up factor: Both songs from The Roop are amazing, and also, LRT trusted in them to participate in the next selection once it will be held, and so they did give in, and LRT appointed them an automatic spot in the NF final (which they haven’t done since 2008), and they won fairly and squarely with an unimaginably big amount of televotes lol. We love our Roops. So the follow-up is just as good as the previous entry, which I still sometimes do prefer and think it would’ve stood a bigger chance to win unlike “Discoteque”, but we’ll see, we’ll see. Qualification factor: lol this is like the surest we’ve been about our qualification in years. Now I don’t wanna last-minute jinx it or anything, but we do have a slick performance and a song that’s somewhat of a clicker at first listen, so yeah, there’s your reasons why we pretty much shouldn’t fail, even if as semi openers. (And mind you, the openers to Eurovision in the 2020s, at least the actually happening Eurovision! Sorry Sweden 2020, The Mamas at least started the 2020s for Melodifestivalen xx)

NF CORNER

Now, just because The Roop were the clear standouts of an otherwise so-so NF, doesn’t mean there hasn’t been any decent songs. Like for instance:

• Gebrasy - Where’d You Wanna Go? I’ve actually been slightly rooting for this guy ever since he didn’t go by his stage name yet and sang a song co-penned by Michael Schulte (yes, THAT Michael Schulte, apparently) in 2018, and now it’s just astonishing about the amount of recognition he received with his fairly competent pop ballad piece (if it wouldn’t have done a Jurijus this year) about what sounds like a road accident. Many people said that if The Roop weren’t in this year, he would’ve won easily, but if not for The Roop, who knows how else would’ve the lineup sounded?

• Gabrielius Vagelis - My Guy Sounds like a love song to a guy, is actually about your own personal cheerleader that you can call “my guy”, I guess... simple synthpop piece performed by a competent and yet also very underrated by the televotes every single year he’s competed in singer, with his constant fashion choices additionally bringing him down a slight notch. Also would be a nice future ESC candidate, who knows when though, because Gebrasy is the main focus first, I guess.

And a few other songs I kinda liked, but I don’t wanna go too much in detail about each.

NF CORNER (NON-COMPETITIVE)

Organization-wise, we gotta say that we’re getting towards a pretty neat and tidy organized NF ever since Pabandom iš naujo format had even started. Sure, there were some withdrawal dramas from before the lineup (one of them being Evelina Sašenko who represented Lithuania 10 years ago already), and also the pressure of The Roop ending up as automatic finalists, and making some competitors feel like their tries are not worth it when there’s an obvious elephant in the room? But otherwise, not much notable has happened.

Except interval acts. Some good fucking food. Each and every time. Lithuania’s refined talentry jumped out constantly. My faves were Sisters On Wire though.

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Maybe they could bring the chilled out pop rock sound that The Roop tried to carry out in 2018? Who knows.

Also this guy called Voldemars Petersons sang his entry in multiple different styles, trying to give versatile genre roulette artists a run for their money. Good for him I guess

Also, manly tears on live TV

ANY LAST WORDS?

The Roop knows just how proud the nation Lithuania is of them tonight. If I know them right, they’ll stay cool, calm and collected before the show and manage to give out their best to bring Lithuania a certified final placing, and possibly a good final finish. I am grateful for them ever having had an opportunity to showcase themselves, and I will forever look back on “Discoteque” as one of the best we’ve ever sent.

SĖKMĖS LIETUVA!!! SĖKMĖS THE ROOP!!! LET’S DISCOTEQUE WOOOOOOOOOO 💛🖖💜

#eurovision #eurovision 2021 #rotterdam 2021 reviews #lithuania #the roop #discoteque #gif

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tweakerwolf · 7 years ago

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Ellen Endings 1 + 4

Here is a triggered ending tied in with the standard 0 health ending. I figured I might as well put the cricket ending in with the first guide I wrote, no point in giving that one it’s own post hahaha. It was fun finding the answers that upset Ellen enough to hurt you (but there’s also the muffins...) and by day 2 it isn’t hard to lose a lot of health. Time to play with the psych student!

You can’t help but notice how starstruck she looks, it’s too much for you to bear. You want, need, to hear her side of it. So you walk forward and get her attention. At first she’s startled by your approach but you easily see recognition in her eyes, she knows you. She doesn’t waste time, realizing that you saw everything; you accuse her of sleeping with Jack (black heart). That surprises her, and she admits that things must’ve looked bad from your perspective but that it’s just a misunderstanding… -say nothing- because it’s like she trying to find a suitable lie. Ellen can tell you’re upset and she understands, so she won’t try to make excuses or anything (even though she just tried to say it was a misunderstanding). Ellen admits that she wants to be honest with you- that’s a start! She introduces herself as a grad student and reveals that Jack keeps a photo of you at his desk. You counter with the fact that Jack has mentioned her before although you can’t help the harsh tone out of your voice and she stiffens. You try to clear things out, saying that you know she’s a student of his and that Jack’s called her bright. At first she’s flattered but she realizes that she’s being insensitive by the look on your face. Ellen says that she wanted to get to know Jack better and you ask her for details about what she mentioned earlier, ‘being a part of something’- just how many people are involved?? Ellen pauses, her sentence cutting off before you can find out what she thinks you ‘really think’. Her demeanor changes and suddenly she’s saying that she has something that belongs to you and your stomach drops. Has Jack been giving away your items? To his lovers? You don’t recall anything that’s missing but she’s already going on, talking about how she doesn’t feel right keeping the ‘gift’. You tell hear you’d like to have it back; a part of you doesn’t want it back but you also want to know what he gave away… Plus you still have the conversation with Jack to think about… You follow her to her car as she apologizes but you’re only half-listening anyways. As she opens her car door, something shiny falls to the ground; you reach down to grab it and she slams the car door into your head. You hit the ground and feel nauseous, your head is split open and bleeding. Then a hand tangles in your hair and is slamming your head into the car again. This time you lose consciousness.

When you wake up, your head hurts and you’re in a bright room. You try to cover your eyes because the light is making your headache worse but you can’t move your hands. The more you try to move, the more you realize that you can’t and something metallic presses into your skin as you wiggle around. It’s about that time that you realize you’re naked… Ellen suddenly comes into view and looks so relieved… looking around, you realize that you’re probably in her bedroom. You realize that the metal pressing against you is in a grid pattern… you’re in a cage and your head is sticking out of a hole cut into the door. Ellen tells you that she was worried because you were unconscious for awhile. Instead of replying, you question just what the hell is going on- why are you naked? Ellen tells you not to get upset, she wants to finish the conversation from earlier but you were getting a little worked up (that doesn’t really answer the question Ellen…)… and you’re also naked because dogs don’t need clothes (oh… there it is… um?). You don’t understand what’s going on but you do realize that she lied to you. She counters that it was only a lie of omission and those hardly count. Besides Jack’s been lying to you the same way for a long time. She doesn’t clarify what she means by that though and instead admits that this was impulsive so she had to work in a hurry to contain you. Lose control and yell out “you bitch!” because seriously, something is wrong with her. As you yell at her for kidnapping, she grabs something and squeezes a red spray into your face. The pain is instant like needles in your eyes, breathing hurts… pepper spray. You struggle but the cage is too small so you can’t do anything but sit and suffer as you try to breathe. Ellen glares at you, calling you a bad dog (broken heart). The pain lasts for awhile with tears blurring your vision and closing your eyes doesn’t help. As you struggle to breathe you realize that Ellen is panting as well, like she’s trying to calm herself down… she’s worked up over this? Ellen tells you that she doesn’t like doing things like that and she looks upset (the angry kind). As she talks you hear a tremble in her voice, something that you didn’t hear before... is she that upset by this or does she like it instead?

Eventually the pain subsides and she’s ready to start the conversation again. The rules are simple- you’re going to be good and do what she says or bad things are going to happen to you. She puts the pepper spray down and collects herself before speaking again. She wants to get closer to Dr. Buchanan and before you can say anything, she glares and tells you that you’re wrong- Jack hasn’t been having an affair. He hasn’t been giving your stuff away either. Jack hasn’t slept with any of his students. At first you aren’t sure you can really believe her, she has you locked in a cage… but you feel relieved all the same. Ellen spoils your relief by saying that Jack is doing something distasteful and she’s truly surprised that you haven’t found out. She guesses that he’s protecting you; she also thinks you’re the key to understanding Jack and she will figure out more about him. She just wants to understand. Well, this isn’t the right way to understand anyone! That pisses her off when you say that and she asks if you’re an expert! You certainly understand Jack and all his secrets right? You hang your head and she pushes the point home, saying there’s a whole side to him that you know nothing about. But for some reason, you’re important to Jack… that’s what she wants to understand. Ellen threatens that she’ll get what she wants whether you cooperate or not. But then she just changes the subject- she has to finish grading! There will be more talking when she’s done with that. Before she sits down, she grabs something and sets it in a doggy bowl in front of your face. A muffin. When you look up at her, she just shrugged and says that dog food is expensive (although… wasn’t this also an impulsive thing? It makes sense she wouldn’t have any lol, c’mon MC, use your head). Well if those are your options, -eat- the muffin because you don’t want dog food anyways. It’s slightly humiliating to have to eat out of a dog bowl and the cage hinders you, but you manage to get close enough. As you eat you realize that Ellen is stroking your hair but it’s alright because at least the muffin is good. She even calls you a good dog as you eat and she sounds very affectionate (black heart).

(squick scene below, bug mention)

Suddenly you feel something moving in your mouth and you glance at the bowl- there are maggots in the bowl! They were coming out of the muffin omg gross! You immediately retch and spit out the muffin in your mouth. You can feel them wiggling in your mouth as you gag no matter how much you spit. Ellen is confused as to why you suddenly coughed up your food, do you not like the muffin? Really, you shouldn’t be picky since your food options are limited. You do your best to stop gagging and you accuse her of putting maggots in the muffin. She looks at you with concern… you look down at the bowl and tell her to look- you can see them squirming around still! Ellen looks at the bowl, moving bits of muffin with her finger… she has no reaction to the little bugs. All she says is that she must have hit you too hard, like you’re suffering from a concussion or something. She dumps the bowl into the trash and rinsing it out before asking if you have a headache. You are certain that you saw them so she brings over the trash can so you can get a second look. Nothing in there but the muffin, no maggots. Ellen wonders if she should go a little easier on you, she doesn’t want you to break just yet (yet??). You start to question it because you don’t taste anything odd but you saw them and you felt them in your mouth! Ellen tells you to relax and sits at her desk to do her grading.

Time passes slowly as she sits at her desk, it’s quiet. You have some time to think… At first you’re happy because you were wrong about Jack and the affairs but now you’re trapped in a much worse situation. It sucks… keep up the silence and -say nothing- because you don’t want Ellen to get upset with you if you interrupt her focus. Besides the quiet doesn’t bother you at the moment, might as well enjoy it. Eventually Ellen stops what she’s doing and she starts to lightly freak out. Something is wrong, she keeps muttering ‘no’ to herself. You decide to call out to her to see if talking helps… better than her lashing out at you for no reason right? Ellen tells you that she spoke with your husband and said that she can’t make the meeting tonight but now she’s afraid that she made him mad. Tell her “Good. You shouldn’t be meeting with him anyway” because, maybe they aren’t having sex but something is still off about the whole situation! (broken heart) She swiftly kicks you in the head and yanks your head up so you can look at her face- she’s getting real sick of your attitude. At this point, you’ve had enough of everything and you start to mock her. You’re giving her attitude? Jack is your husband and she has no right to be sneaking around with him! She snarks back, telling you that he sneaks around all the time, even in your own home. Your heart sinks, she said that he wasn’t having an affair! Ellen smiles coyly then, mentioning that it’s only partially true because, is it really an affair if the other person doesn’t give consent? Now what the hell does that mean, you’re married to a serial rapist?!? You don’t want to believe it and you can’t tell if she’s lying now just to hurt you or not… You try to assert that you know your husband and he isn’t the type to do that but she just glares at you and says that you don’t know him. Then she lets go of your hair and starts digging around on her desk for something. You aren’t sure what she’s doing but you start to hear a chirping noise… um?

(squick scene below, bug mention)

Ellen randomly tells you that she isn’t a sadist or anything but that seeing other people suffer makes her feel better. As she turns around to face you, you see that she’s holding a cricket with a pair of tweezers. She steps closer to you and tells you to be a good dog and stay still. As she crouches down, one hand comes up and pins your head to the floor. You squirm as she lowers the cricket to your face and you demand to know what she’s doing. Ellen actually paused and tells you; she’s going to ask a few simple questions and she just wants you to answer honestly. Oh, and she’s going to put the cricket in your ear. Um, in your ear? Excuse me?? You tell her not to, you’re uncomfortable with the thought of that. She just strokes your hair and tells you that the human mind is incredible (oh wait, I thought you were a dog?? Keep it straight Ellen! XD) and it can adapt to the most horrendous situation. Then the cricket is pressed against your cheek… it’s still alive, you can feel it moving. Ellen admits that she wants to ask you about Dr. Buchanan. As she slides the cricket closer to your ear she asks if you’re sexually intimate with each other. You aren’t comfortable answering her and you’re wondering what the ‘right’ answer might even be… but she takes the silence as an embarrassed yes and asks you how it is. Do you lead or just let him take control of everything? Then she asks if you can feel the maggots inside you or if he cleans himself off before he gets to you. Does he even enjoy the sex with you? Maybe it’s brief and lacks passion? Then she makes a comment that stands out, asking if you can see the marriage unraveling because he’s found something he likes to fuck more. You think that she’s just trying to get a reaction out of you, she hasn’t even given you time to answer. Besides, Jack isn’t like that, he wouldn’t find someone else just because the sex may or may not be the best. Ellen waits a moment but then slowly slides the cricket into your ear and you can feel it’s legs as it tries to stop itself. That’s when you lose it and start to struggle. Ellen pins you down with a knee, telling you to stay, like a good dog. You know she means business… The cricket gets pushed in deeper and it starts to struggle even more, trying to get free of the tweezers. You can hear and feel the buzzing inside your head as it moves around, it’s unbearably loud. It’s so loud that you don’t even hear Ellen for a moment but apparently she’s trying to talk to you. Then you realize that she’s squirming around, her hips moving just a bit. Since she still has her knee on your neck, you can see up her skirt… you start to question if she’s getting off on the whole thing because she’s breathing a little wonky. Ellen tells you that she doesn’t want to ask questions, now she just wants to talk and she wants you to listen. She admits that she fantasizes about Jack and as she says that, her hand trembles and the cricket harshly rubs against your ear canal. Ellen mentions that she knows he’s married and everything but she can’t help but think about Jack holding her down like this. The chirping in your ear gets louder and more painful. Do your best to -stay still- ** and let her do what she wants. It’s extremely unpleasant but you really don’t want to do anything to upset her. The cricket continues to move inside your ear but you stay as still as possible. She’s surprised at your self control and you’re surprised at the praise. Ellen says that she thought you were a little impulsive but it took a long time before you finally got desperate enough to follow Jack (how long has she been watching?). You tell her that Jack’s entitled to his secrets. She goes quiet but pulls the cricket out of your ear; she’s starting to feel like she’s starting to understand. The cricket is still in the tweezers and she takes it back over to the desk. You breathe a sigh of relieve, that ordeal is finally over.

**alternate choice here but I didn’t want to start a new paragraph since it all still tied into the squick warning

Ending 1: -Struggle- because like, she’s shoving that bug way too far into your ear! You thrash as much as you can against her knee. She narrows her eyes and calls you a bad dog, settling all her weight onto your neck. Her grip slips and the cricket gets free of the tweezers so now it’s moving around, trying to find a way out. Ellen is pissed, yelling out that you’re a bad dog. She shoves the tweezers further down into your ear… she stabs the cricket and you hear it screeching in your ear, agonizingly loud. But only for a moment, the tweezers pierce your eardrum next and all you feel is pain. You writhe back and forth as she yanks the tweezers out before stabbing them back into your ear. You can feel the blood welling up in your ear and everything is muffled. The pain just becomes too much and you hope you just pass out soon. That’s when she drops the tweezers… there’s a harsh buzzing noise accompanying the pain now. Ellen is looking at you and mumbling something but you aren’t really paying attention. She seems troubled by something, there are tears in her eyes. Died- You struggled.

Ellen left the room but you can hear her so you know she’s nearby; you hear silverware and food sizzling, she must be cooking in the kitchen. Suddenly you realize just how hungry you feel… you debate if you should ask her for food. It can’t hurt so try and -ask- for some food. You call out for her and when she pokes her head around the corner you begin asking your question. She easily realizes what you’re trying to ask and remembers that she never made lunch for either of you. Ellen feels bad for being so irresponsible; she reaches over to pet you before hurrying back into the kitchen. That wasn’t the reaction you’d been expecting, like at all, wow. It’s a relief that she isn’t upset with you for asking, yay! When she comes back, she has a large plate with mac ‘ cheese as well as mashed potatoes. Ellen gives you half of it right off the plate. But on second thought… -don’t eat- it… there were maggots in the muffin, what if she did something to this meal too? It’s just too risky; besides when you look at the food, your stomach turns queasy and twists up in knots. Ellen is watching you closely and her face drops as you continue to not touch your food. She tells you that it’s all she has… so she can’t really make you anything different… but you still don’t try the food and Ellen gets pissed. She grabs the bowl and snaps that you aren’t going to be getting any more food! Then she sits down and eats her own food, not looking at you. After she finishes, she washes the dishes and turns off the lights; you need to get some sleep because she’s planning on waking you up early. Sleeping makes you nervous since she might do something to you, but it’s been such a long day, you can’t keep your eyes open for long.

Sometime later you register that someone is touching you; you groan and roll over, telling Jack to let you sleep in. The hand stopped moving and you can hear someone giggling, a feminine someone… When you open your eyes, you see Ellen sitting on the floor next to you. She asks if you slept well and reaches out to pet you again but you flinch away from her touch. That’s because you aren’t in the cage anymore, although your hands and legs are still tied up (you must have been dead to the world if she got you out of the cage and you had no idea) .You try to burrow into the nest of blankets but she pulls them off of you. She says she wants to apologize- she doesn’t normally fly off the handle like that. As far as you can tell, she does genuinely seem sorry but that just makes you wonder why she hasn’t felt any guilt about kidnapping you. Ellen says that today is going to be different, she’s well rested and is ready to try again, as long as you cooperate. And to start off the day, she’s giving you breakfast- another muffin in your dog bowl. You didn’t have dinner so -eat- the muffin… she wanted you to cooperate and she did say it’s a new day… You take a small bite and eye the muffin, just to make sure there aren’t any maggots. Encouraged, you take a few big bites, enjoying the muffin. But suddenly there’s a sharp pain in your mouth, something sliced open your tongue. Then it’s moving towards the back of your throat and your mouth starts to fill with blood. Ellen asks what’s wrong as you start to heave, trying to breathe around the blood. You cough and feel sharp metal objects all over your mouth; you try to dislodge some with your tongue. When you spit into the bowl there is blood and razor blades. Ellen sees the blood and gasps, commenting that you’re sick. She’s trying to pretend that everything will be okay but you aren’t falling for her shit this time, it’s real, you know it is. You ask her why, not giving her a chance to deny that they are real. What had you done this time to warrant such a dangerous trick?! She just continues to pet you and comments that you’re such a trusting dog; Ellen kisses you on the cheek and comments that Jack probably likes how trusting you are. Next she leaves the room to clean out the bloody dog bowl. Everything hurts but now you’re certain that you didn’t hallucinate the maggots from yesterday. The bitch was just messing with you on purpose, trying to rile you up and confuse you. She was Jack’s student, it doesn’t surprise you that she’d use such tricks to break someone.

Ellen comes back into the room and informs you that she still has other plans for you and she tells you to stay still. Then she’s climbing on your back and pinning you down, stabbing you in the neck with a syringe filled with something. You ask what was in it and she only says that it was something she found in Jack’s office, a paralytic. Apparently Jack’s done a lot of research, looking for something that can be used a lot without any serious side effects. Ellen says that it’s for you. Why… why would Jack want to use something like that on you? Ellen can’t believe how dense you are, does she really have to spell it out? Jack is a necrophiliac. Wut… you don’t want to believe it, she’s clearly lied before… but everything else she’s said, all leads to her most recent reveal. And then she also says that Jack kills people, because he kills them and then fucks their corpses. He keeps them until they’re too rotten to keep. As she keeps talking, you realize that it’s hard to hold your head up. It doesn’t take her long to see that the drug has kicked in and she rolls you onto your back. Ellen tells you that it’s hard to accept but you have to believe it because she needs to understand Jack’s motives. If you realize that it’s the truth, the two of you can start figuring Jack out. You question why she’d even want to understand Jack if he really is the way she says he is. Ellen wants to know why you don’t want to find out more, if you didn’t know better, you’d say she looked disappointed.

She touches your palm and you see that she has a small knife in one hand… She positions it over your palm and asks if you love Jack. It isn’t hard to hear the hysteria in her voice and her hand shakes as you answer her question. You say that you do but she doubts your sincerity. Suddenly she stabs your palm with the knife and the pain goes all the way up your arm. When she pulls the knife out, it’s covered in blood. Ellen tells you that your husband emailed her and said to stop contacting him and to even consider transferring to another school. So this is her last chance and you have to tell her something useful. This time she rests the blade on the pad of your index finger. You can tell that she’s feeling desperate but you’re hoping to talk some sense into her. She idolizes Jack so say “you should think about what he said” in an attempt to get her to give up and transfer, get her out of Jack’s life. It’s the wrong thing to say, she shoves the blade into your finger, tearing the nail away from the finger.

Ending 4: You feel weak and sluggish. You can’t fight her anymore… your head drops and the room feels so cold. Ellen stares at you, touching your face; she feels so warm compared to you and you break out in a cold sweat. She realizes that you’ve lost too much blood but just sits there, watching you fade away. You decide this isn’t too bad, now you don’t have to endure anything else that she might come up with. Ellen mutters to herself about something as you close your eyes. Died- Ellen got what she wanted.

#Til Death Do Us Part #TDDUP #TDDUP game #TDDUP Ellen #Ellen endings #gas lighting #torture with bugs #crickets #maggots #trickery #torture #violence #kidnapping

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