#proud of my slate l
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Read at open mic night tonight
#positive responses#i am a reactive audience member which is noticed#my first line garnered laughs#proud of my slate l#I didn’t look up as much as I rehearsed#or much at all I think#my leg started shaking#Zapeta said im heat and that a year ago i read and he told the people I was w that it was gonna be heat#blog post#Feels very touching#haven wouldn’t let me read the notes on the piece tho#said her notes wouldn’t do it justice#but I said hey let me judge for myself… what did u write in there!! havens like ahhhahahah im like ok ok im gonna respect your property rn#Smh respect to you 17 year old in college that was overwhelmed and nervous with me in the fishtank before I read#fries were cheap and twice fried and twice one dollar bills aka they were $2#Thunder rumbles#Forgot a Jimmy John’s gift card but i think i will walk back here#Lol on the way home I was walking head down and some frat boys passed me and a homeless esque dude and he said keep lookin there are others#out there and I turned back like ? and he was like :D I got you sis#I’m like ohhh so they were looking but u warded them off! thxxx! Tbh I love being called sis
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COMING DOWN w/Jujutsu Kaisen
( TW ) BDSM (Sukuna's only), master!Sukuna, punishment, spanking, pussy job, cream pie, praise, fingering, explicit content
FEATURING: Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, and Nanami Kento
Author’s note: I fear I can only write stern Sukuna, also the way word deleted this and I had the spend my morning rewriting it…
☾ GOJO SATORU
“Mm–fuck, oh fuck angel, I’m cumming!” Gojo whines, shooting his load into your abused cunt. You arch your back deeper, shoving your face into the pillow. “Fuck, princess—fuck—feel s’good,” He collapses onto you, heaving.
You whine at his weight unable to stay up. Satoru falls with you.
“S’ so good princess, you’re always s’good to me.” Satoru spills, drunk on you. You whimper, tilting your head to kiss his cheek. He nuzzles into you, murmuring out incoherent praise.
“Toru, you’re too heavy, get off.” You try and fail to shrug him off.
“Mm—don’t wanna, so comfy.” He slurs, and you know if he doesn’t get up within the next five minutes you both are going to fall asleep covered in sweat, tears, and cum.
“We gotta wash up ‘Ro. C’mon the quicker we clean up the quicker we can cuddle and watch the next episode of our show.” Satoru protest for a several minutes before kissing the side of your face a few times and lifting himself, his cock slipping out. You gasp, suddenly feeling empty. Your pussy clenched in attempt to keep him cum in. You turn to watch a naked Satoru walk over to grab the baby wipes on the dresser.
“C’mere baby, lemme clean you up.”
☾ RYOMEN SUKUNA
“One more, little girl.” Sukuna grunts, his heavy hand on your back rubbing soothing circles. He brings the belt down again. You gasp, voice hoarse for all the screaming and crying you’ve already done.
“All done, now c’mere.” Sukuna orders you up from your position across his lap, manhandling you until you wrap around him.
“M’sorry, m’sorry, won’t do it again I promise, I'll be good now.” You cry into the crock of his neck, overwhelmed with emotions. You feel embarrassed, guilty, and cared for all at once. Only Sukuna can make you feel such contradictory emotions.
“Shush, it’s okay little girl, I know, you took your punishment like a good girl you know that?” He gently grabs the side of your head, forcing you to look up at him. You have to blink a few times before you can see his face. “Proud of you.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips—swollen from biting down so hard.
Your heart flutters at the praise, you may not like getting punished but the soft moments after when Sukuna whispers sweet nothings to you will always make it better.
“I love–” You hiccup. “L-love you Ryo.” You rub your cheek on his warm palm, ready to fall asleep and start the new day on a clean slate.
“I love you too little one, you know what to say.” He shakes your head with his hand, the other starting to rub soothing circles on your thighs. “Thank you for my punishment master, I understand why you did it and I appreciate you for correcting me.”
“Good girl, now lay down on your stomach while I rub this cream on your ass alright?”
☾ NANAMI KENTO
“K-Kento—” You moan, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders.
“Shush, it’s okay love, let it happen, you’re alright.” He whispers into your ear, jackhammering his fingers into your wet cunt. You cry into his now-drenched shoulder, as Nanami finger fucks you to another orgasm. He whispers sweet nothing as you come down from another high, and collapse on his chest.
“That’s right Love–jus’ relax for me.” he says, as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy and wraps his strong arms around your waist.
“You relaxed now sweetheart?”
“Mhm, thank you, Ken.”
“You gonna tell me what happened?” He rubs your back, patiently waiting for you to tell him what caused you to come home on the verge of a breakdown.
“I-I don’t wanna. It’s embarrassing.” You mumble ashamed that you let your co-workers get to you.
“Nothin’ you say will ever make me judge you sweetheart. You know you can tell me anything.” He reassures.
“I know Kento, thank you for always bein’ there for me.”
“I love you, sweetheart. That means I'll always will there whenever you need me to be—in any way you need me to.”
“I love you too Kento. Do you think we can go get some ice-cream then I can tell you what happened?”
“Of course we can Love.”
☾ GETO SUGURU
“That’s it sweet girl–mm fuck–that’s it.” Geto grunts, sliding your pussy over his cock before lifting you and releasing his load on your thighs. You gasp at the sight of your boyfriend cumming on your naked thighs. Suguru sighs, the grip on your hips softening after several seconds.
“Suguru—”
“I know baby, I know.” He reassures, bringing his hands underneath the hoodie you’re wearing. He caresses his hands up and down your sides. You blink sleepily about to fall into Suguru’s big chest before you remember the sticky mess between your tights.
“Sugu, ‘m dirty.” You pout. He grins up at you.
“The prettiest dirty girl I’ve ever seen.”
“Suguru!” You slap his chest. He laughs ever harder, grabbing your hand to sprinkle kisses on your knuckles. You smile down at him. He looks like the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. Long black hair sprawled against the white pillow. Intense brown eyes that look up at you like you’re the only girl in the world worth his time.
“Let’s get clean up dirty girl–C’mon, up we go.” Suguru picks you up by the waist and carries you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter before he grabs a clean rag.
“Thank you, baby.” You whisper as you wash him clean your thighs.
“No, thank you for bein’ so good to me sweet girl.” He stands up to kiss you sweetly. “Never thought I’d get so lucky—you’re the best girl, my best girl. Love you s’much.”
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#smut#jjk#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna scenarios#sukuna smut#sukuna x y/n#sukuna ryomen#geto smut#geto suguru#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto x y/n#geto x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami kento#nanami smut#nanami x you
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2. How you met him & how he broke your heart.
A/N: THIS WHOLE CHAPTER IS A FLASHBACK! OKAY OKAY SO, YES, THIS IS AN SMAU, BUT ITS GONNA HAVE MORE WRITTEN PARTS 😁
NOTE (2024): this was made over 4+ years ago when i was a beginner writer so the writing is pretty much horrible. but im feel nostalgic and this has been sitting for the drafts for years that i thought, why not post? anways pls enjoy my very mediocre attempt at writing. there’s multiple parts so ill post until there are none anymore
flashback.
On December 21, your parents told you that they were separating. Your father claimed he fell out of love with your mother and already had a family in the US. You were devastated, to say the least. But mostly, you were confused. How could he? How could he do this to you, your sister, and your mother? They seemed so happy together. They never argued, well, not in front of you and your sister at least. They were the perfect couple. You looked up to them. You wanted to have what they had with your future significant other, and now your parents were telling you that they are separating because your father fell out of love?
pitiful.
Your father said he was leaving to go to the states in 6 months. Out of anger, your mother decided it was best to move, without leaving a trace of your father. She called this a clean slate. Moving meant you had to transfer schools. You were a third year, who was now going to be attending Itachiyama Institute, while your younger sister who was still in junior high was attending Okojo Middle School. Still, you couldn’t believe it. Your own father, the person you looked up to the most, was abandoning you, your mother, and your sister. Why weren’t you guys good enough for him? How come it’s so easy for him to leave? It just wasn’t fair.
What is love? Well, there are many ways to interpret the word “love”. When we love someone we experience positive thoughts and experiences with them bur we also experience a deep sense of care and commitment towards that person. Love means to be deeply committed and connected to someone or something. The feeling of love should be mutual with you and your significant other.
You loved Sakusa Kiyoomi. He was your first love.
You remembered the day you met. It was your first day at Itachiyama Institute and your previous school was Nekoma High. You were the manager for Nekoma’s volleyball team, which meant that you’d go with them to practice camps, games, and you’d stay after school hours to help out, which was why you were so close to Kenma and Kuroo. You met Kenma and Kuroo when you were a first year, you and Kenma were in the same class and you volunteered to be a manager for the volleyball team, which resulted to you becoming bestfriends with Kenma and Kuroo. You both were now finally third years, Kenma was captain of the team after Kuroo left and Kuroo couldn’t have been more proud. At first, Kenma didn’t want to be the captain because he claimed it was “too much work”, but once you and the other team members forced convinced him to try it out, he ended up loving it.
Your first day at Itachiyama was okay, you didn’t talk much, or really make new friends. It was the same old, you’d introduce yourself in front of the class, then they’d greet you and ask you questions on how your previous school was or why you moved. At lunch, you sat outside, alone, until you saw two boys walk in front of you. One was wearing a mask and the other was smiling and waved at you.
“Hello! My name is Komori Motoya and this is my cousin. We have class together, right?” he said as he brought his right arm out, offering to shake yours.
“Oh, um yes, we do! Hi Komori, my name is L/N Y/N.” you said, shaking his hand. Once you both let go you looked at Komori’s cousin who was standing next to him, but was slightly behind him.
“You must be Sakusa Kiyoomi, right?” you said walking towards him. He didn’t say anything, he just nodded while his hands were placed in his pockets.
“Uh, how did you know that?” Komori asked as he chuckled, scratching the back of his head.
“Well, I know your name too. I’ve seen you and your team play! You guys are really good.” you explained, Komori shook his head in excitement.
“Oh, really? Are you into volleyball? Do you play?” He asked.
“Well, I’m not really good at it. I used to play in junior high, but I stopped once I got into high school. I love watching the games though! I was the team manager at my previous school.”
“Really? That’s amazing! Our team is looking for a team manager! You should really apply, i’m pretty sure the coach would be happy.” Komori said.
“Oh! Well, that’s great! I’ll check definitely come visit tomorrow after school.” You said as you started to pack your things because lunch was ending soon.
“That’s great y/n!” he said, “Well, we’ll see you around in class.”
“Yeah, bye!” You waved at the two and they waved back.
“Everyone, gather around! Meet the new addition to the managers for the team! The coach said.
“My name is L/N Y/N! I’m new here and I just transferred from Nekoma High!” you said, bowing your head. Some of the teammates were whispering once they heard you mention Nekoma. “I’m hoping to get to know you all better! I’ve seen you guys play before and it’s an honor to be working with you all! you said.
“she talks a lot.” Sakusa thinks, having a bored look on his face and makes a mental note of this.
“Trust me y/n, the pleasure is ours!” the coach chuckles.
You suddenly realize how the gym is full of boys who are basically towering over you and awkwardly laugh back, followed by an awkward silence. You then remembered about the homemade granola you had made for the team, which you had been carrying this whole time.
“Oh! I almost forgot! I made some homemade granola bars to show my gratitude towards you all.” You started to pass the bars out to each team member as they thanked you and praised you for how good the bars tasted. You were making your way to give a bar to the last person who hasn’t received it yet, which was Sakusa Kiyoomi.
He was taller than his other teammates, wearing a mask and it almost seemed as if he was giving you a look of disgust, judging by the way his face was scrunched up. He looked intimidating, but you didn’t want to judge someone off of their looks, so you walked up to him and tried to start a conversation with him.
“Hello, Sakusa! I just wanted to thank you and Komori for coming up to me yesterday. It meant a lot considering the fact that I was new and i’m not very good at making friends-“
“You talk a lot.” Sakusa interrupted, his cousin heard him since he wasn’t that far away from you both and quickly walked up to him.
“Sakusa! It wouldn’t hurt you to be nice and not so upfront all the time!” his cousin said.
“I’m kidding!” sakusa says to his cousin, shaking his head and chuckles, then turns back to you.
“I’m kidding,” He repeats once again, “Sorry that I wasn’t really talking yesterday. I’m not good with people either.” He says and you both laugh. “I’m pretty sure you’re the person i’m supposed to be showing the school around to tomorrow.”
“Oh, yeah. You don’t really have to if it’s going to-“
“You really do tend to ramble a lot.” he interrupts once again. He won’t tell you, but he finds it cute how flustered you get, you seem so innocent.
“Sorry, it’s a bad habit of mine.” you scratched the back of your head and laughed a bit.
“All right everyone, Time to pack up!” the coach said, getting up from the bench.
“See you tomorrow?” Sakusa says.
“Yep!”
“Bye Y/N!” Komori says as he waved at you. You waved back and started to pack things up and went home.
1 and a half years later.
“Omi, have you seen my shampoo? I left it here at your place and I checked the bathroom and it wasn’t there anymore.” you said as you walked out of his bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel.
“No babe,” Sakusa says, “Just use mine. It isn’t that big of a deal. We can buy you your shampoo once you finish taking a shower if it’s bothering you this much.”
“It’s fine. I was just checking to see if you saw it, it isn’t that big of a deal.” you assured him with a smile.
“Maybe I should join you in the shower?” Sakusa suggested, “saves more water.”
“You’re too much.” you laughed, “let’s go shower!”
You and Sakusa finally graduated high school and decided to take a year break before attending college to spend time together since Sakusa wasn’t planning on going to college. You guys didn’t live together, He had an apartment of his own that was near your house and you’d stay there most of the time. Which meant, more sex.
Of course, it took sakusa some time to be comfortable to have sex with you, but he trusted you a lot. he knew you were clean and you took proper care of yourself
not staying abstinent from sex is something you regret, but are happy that you forgot to take the pill that one day. If you had, you still would’ve been with Sakusa. But since you didn’t, you ended up pregnant and gave birth to the person that makes you the happiest, your daughter.
You remember taking the pregnancy test, your heart dropped.
“fuck. i’m fucked.” you muttered.
Your hands were shaking as you held the pregnancy test, which said “positive” and your fingers were slowly becoming more cold by each passing seconds and your anxiety was getting the best of you.
what is sakusa gonna say? he already said he didn’t want kids. what was your mother going to say? Oh, your mother was going to kill you. Sakusa isn’t gonna like this at all. Maybe he will? Maybe he’ll tell you everything is okay and that he’ll be with you every step of the way. Should you tell Komori to tell him? No. Sakusa won’t believe him and it’ll result in him asking you anyways. Kenma! text Kenma. Then text Akira. They’ll know what to do. Wait! you need to make sure you’re 100% pregnant. This is only one test. there’s no way you’re pregnant.
So you took 2 more test. All of them were positive.
“shitt.” you took a deep breath in and closed your eyes. Tears were threatening to spill and the once appetite you once had was now gone. You were in Sakusa’s apartment bathroom, he had gone to go pick up the food you had ordered for the movie night you and him were planning to have.
You quickly got out of the bathroom and made your way to your phone to call Kenma and tell him. By now you were sobbing.
“Y/n, are you 100% sure you’re pregnant?” he said in a firm voice. He too was trying not to panic.
“Y-yes! I’ve taken like th- three test now!” you said, you were breaking down and it was hard for you to even speak clearly. “Kiyoomi i-is not going to be happy at all. I only missed one day of not t-taking the pill.”
“Y/n, i’m going to need you to breathe for me. You may not believe me now, but everything will be okay. You have to tell him. He will still love you. Isn’t it his baby?” he asked, this annoyed you. Why did he even ask that? obviously it was his. Kenma didn’t mean any harm when he asked you, but you took it to offense.
“O-obviously kozume. Why would you even ask that?” you were pacing around in the living room, trying to calm yourself down. “Kenma he’s here. He just texted me he’s outside and he’s-he’s coming. I’m scared, i don’t know how to handle this.”
“Y/n, please breathe. Everything is going to be okay please calm down, okay? You got this. If you want me to come over I can. Do you still want me to stay on the line?” he asked.
“N-no, I’m fine. Thank you Kenma. I’m gonna hang up now.”
“You’re welcome y/n. I love you.” he said, a smile resting on his face.
“love you too.”
you quickly went back to the bathroom to throw the pregnancy test away and hid it further in the trash so Sakusa wouldn’t find it. You quickly washed your face, so it would look like you weren’t crying and if he asked you why your eyes were so red you’d just say soap got in your eyes. Right when you finished washing your face, Sakusa entered the place, immediately heading to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.
“Hey,” he said grabbing the soap next to him and rubbing it with his hands.
“Hey.” you said softly, placing one hand on your opposite arm and walking towards him to embrace him.
“Happy anniversary, I love you so much.” He said, hugging you and burying his head in the crook of your neck.
“I love you more, Kiyoomi.” you said. He pulled away and stared at your face in mischief and then squinted.
“You don’t usually call me Kiyoomi unless you’re upset or worried about something. What’s up?”
Shit.
It was a bad habit of yours. When something was bothering you, or when you were upset, you’d usually call Sakusa, Kiyoomi. Usually you’d call him by his nickname, which was Omi.
“It’s nothing, Omi. I’m hungry! Let’s eat!” you say as you tried to hug him again, but he doesn’t budge.
“y/n, come on, i know you.” he says softly, as you both stood in the kitchen. He stares at you for a little longer, tucking the strands of your hair behind your ear, easing your tenseness so you could feel comfortable enough to talk to him and then cupped your cheek. “Talk to me- wait, have you been crying?”
Ugh.
you’re crying again. you’re crying really hard. Sakusa starts to panic at the random burst of tears that are falling at a rapid pace and pulls you in for a tight hug, not caring that you haven’t washed your hands yet.
“hey, hey, y/n shh, it’s okay.” Sakusa says, stroking your hair softly. “baby, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong, please.”
You sob on his chest, he slightly cringes at the thought of your tears wetting his shirt, but he doesnt mention it.
“N-no, I cant. You’ll hate me.” you say, burying your face in his chest. Sakusa lets out a sigh of confusion and continues to stoke your hair.
“I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you could do that would make me hate you y/n. I love you, dummy.” he chuckled, you laughed as well and let go of him and wiped your tears. You took a deep breath and then let a out a forced laugh and then faced Sakusa.
“Okay,” You said letting out a sigh, “I’m,”
“you’re?”
“Never mind, I cant do this.” you walked away from him and ran to the bathroom and locked yourself there and started breaking down. Sakusa was quick to follow you, but you locked the door. You were confusing the hell out of him. He thought you were trying to break up with him.
You couldn’t tell him. Not when he had already told you he didn’t want kids. Did you even want kids? Aborting the baby was not an option. Knowing the type of person you are, you’d probably feel too guilty and you didn’t need that guilt following you for the rest of your life.
“Y/n, I understand you may need space right now. Whenever you’re ready please talk to me, I love you.”
Why was he so good to you?
About 30 minutes later, you finally come out from the bathroom and you see Sakusa scrolling through his phone. The food he had ordered was still on the table, probably cold by now.
“Hey,” you said walking up to him and sitting next to him on the couch.
“Hey,” he smiled, “you ready to talk to me now?”
“uh, yeah.” you took a deep breath, and Sakusa patiently waited for you to speak up.
“So, you know how I’m on birth control?” you asked, he cocked his head and furrowed his brows, wondering what birth control had to do with what was bothering you.
“yes..”
“Oh, okay.” you said, you took another deep breath in, then out, then you closed your eyes because you felt tears rushing down again.
“Y/n,” sakusa says softly, You rest your head on his chest once again, and he continues to softly rub your back. “Y/n, you’re scaring me. Are you breaking up with me?”
“No!” you say as you lift your head up to face him. You cup his cheek gently and give him a soft smile. “no, i’m not baby.” You put your hand down and faced forward, while sakusa was staring at you from your side. Sakusa gives a sigh of relief.
“I’m pregnant.” you blurted out.
“what?” he heard you, he just didn’t know if he heard it right.
“Kiyoomi, i’m pregnant. it’s yours.” you’re facing him now, but he looks away. He lets go of the hand that was once holding yours and faces forward.
“Omi, please say something.” you say, you started to get worried and you felt a weird sensation in your stomach as if you were about to throw up.
“Are you sure y/n? Is this some type of prank because if it is-“
“no, it’s not a prank. i’ve taken three test and they were all positive, kiyoomi. i’m pregnant.”
“holy shit.” is all he mutters, he places both of his hands together and they land on his face and the face he was currently making was unreadable. You couldn’t tell if he was mad or upset, but he certainly didn’t seem happy one bit.
“is that seriously all you’re gonna say?” you scoff, he doesn’t look at you, he’s still facing forward.
“take another test,”
“what?”
“take another test,” he repeats, now getting up from the couch and pacing up and down the living room. “you need to take another test.”
“i already told you, i took three and they were all positive-“
“just take another test y/n, damn it!” your eyes widen at his sudden burst of anger, he’s staring at you, boring his eyes onto you and then he quickly looks away and takes a steady breath in. “i need to see this for myself, just take another test, okay?”
you scoff.
you wipe of the tears on your face and you walk to the bathroom rather quickly, sakusa following not far along.
you open another one of the test that you haven’t used yet without saying a word to sakusa, he’s leaning on the bathroom door with the same bored expression he usually has on his face.
once you’ve finished, you wait a few minutes for the test to see it’s results.
positive.
“are you satisfied? or do i need to take another test?” you mutter, sakusa looks at the test that is now placed on this sink, crossing his arms.
“we can’t keep this baby-“
“what? what are you talking about?” you interrupt him. Is he being serious? He doesn’t have a say on what whether you keep the baby or not.
“y/n, think about it!” he explains, walking closer to you, “we’re 18, and i have a career that i’m working hard on and you have college-“
“are you being serious right now, kiyoomi?” you raise your voice and back away from him with a hurt expression on your face.
“Y/n, it wouldn’t be smart to keep this baby. We can’t be parents right now. I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he’s not raising his voice because he’s trying his hardest to avoid an argument. “I cant- i can’t do this.”
“w-what?” you feel tears forming again. What can’t he do? What is he trying to say? “Kiyoomi, look, I know this is a lot. Trust me it’s a lot for me too! But i’m keeping this baby. It’s our responsibility since we weren’t responsible enough.”
He scoffs at this and shakes his head “we? we weren’t responsible? last time i checked, you were the one who didn’t do your part. all you had to do was take one damn pill. is it seriously that hard?”
He can’t seriously be blaming you right now.
“I’m sorry y/n, but i seriously can’t be a dad. We already said that we’re not having kids. They’re messy, annoying and not to mention, they cause too much stress. You have to abort the baby-“
“I don’t have to do shit,” you interrupt once again, you were crying, you were so upset. This was so unlike kiyoomi. you felt nauseous, and it wasn’t the baby. “And i never said i didn’t want kids, we never even agreed on that, you just said you didn’t want them. What happened to you? Yeah, we’re young, but i’m willing to make that sacrifice. All you’re worried about is your stupid volleyball career. I told you i’m keeping this baby and if you aren’t okay with that, then maybe we should break up!” You were yelling, too caught up in the moment to realize what you had just said, it was a lot for Sakusa to process. It’s only normal that he’d be suprised but it doesn’t mean he had to put all the blame on you. You were already aware it was partly your fault, and now you were willing to own up for your mistakes. Why wasn’t he? He looked at you in shock, then walked back and forth and you kept your eyes on him wondering what he would say next.
“you think so?”
“There’s no point in being together if you don’t want to be in this baby’s life, Kiyoomi. You know this.”
“So what, you’re just gonna let go of what we have that easily?” he asked, everything he was saying was getting on your fucking nerves.
“You think it’s easy, Kiyoomi?” you let out a humorless laugh, “You think it’s easy for me to let you go? You are literally my the love of my fucking life. The first person who made me have butterflies in my stomach when all you’d do is just stare at me. Now that a baby is on the way things are obviously going to be changing and i need to put this baby first before everything and you’re obviously not willing to do that and It hurts- it fucking hurts that you didn’t even assure me that everything was going to be alright. That you’d still love me and be right by my side even though Ive decided that i am keeping the baby. I had to call kenma right before you came and even he said you’d assure me, but you didn’t. I’m not even upset at you for being suprised, but there are better ways to react Kiyoomi, especially in situations like this. You saying you’re not ready to be a dad is okay, but the fact that you aren’t willing to make the sacrifice hurts. So don’t say it’s easy for me when you’re the one that’s letting go.”
By the time you finished speaking, you were choking on your own sobs and you could barely even speak clearly. Sakusa looked like he was on the verge of tears, but he probably didn’t want to cry in front of you. He didn’t say anything either or make eye contact with you either. He just headed to the kitchen and started cleaning out any leftovers that were too old in the fridge. You aren’t even suprised. You see, Sakusa doesn’t like opening up to people. The thought of being so vulnerable and opening up like what you had just did scared Kiyoomi. He wanted to be the one that would cheer you up when something was bothering you but when it came to him, he’d keep his emotions or how he was feeling to himself. It was a bad habit of his but you still loved him and understood that it would take some time. Yes, it does hurt that he didn’t say anything after you literally opened up, but maybe this was how it was supposed to end.
You looked at him with such disbelief. You scoffed and then wore your jacket and shoes and left.
He didn’t chase after you, it’s not like you would listen anyways. All he did was say that he wasn’t ready to be a parent and how you should abort the baby. Did he think you were ready? Because you weren’t. But you were willing to make a sacrifice for this baby of yours. There’s no point in forcing him to become a father if that’s clearly not what he wants. That’s fine though, you know you’d have other people support you, even if it meant that Sakusa wouldn’t be supporting you anymore.
“Goodbye, Kiyoomi.”
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader smau#haikyuu!!#kenma smau#kenma x reader#tsukishima x y/n#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa series#haikyuu sakusa#sakusa x y/n#sakusa x reader#dad!sakusa#tsukishima x reader
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I'm feeling conflicted, cause on one hand Im proud of my old stuff and wanna keep it up so ppl can enjoy it since I still have a small amount of interaction, but on the other hand my artstyle and interests have changed quite a bit and I want a more clean slate + im not sure if anyone following here would actually care about or want anything new/different from me now. Ive found myself having difficulty getting myself drawing so i figured posting again might help me get back into the flow, and id love to even do more commissions once I finish the one im working on right now.
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Sandra Oh’s Sense of Purpose
The actor discusses Hollywood survival skills, winning the lottery, and her interest in telling “messy” Asian American stories.
Sandra Oh wanted to talk to me, first, about the Monterey Park shooting. The attack had taken place a week earlier, not far from her home in Los Angeles. She was still working through her feelings about it. Seeing her face fill my laptop screen over Zoom, I thought about her ability as an actor to externalize emotion with the camera up close. For our interview, Oh had set up her computer in her back yard. A fire pit, with cushions and an L-shaped seating area, was behind her. As she discussed the shooting, Oh stared at a point off to her right; her eyebrows sloped upward, and her brow furrowed. She radiated dismay.
After we discussed the tragedy for a few minutes, she asked if she could start recording the conversation. She wanted to keep a copy of it for herself. Perhaps it was her age, she told me––fifty-one years old. She had been feeling the urge to gather her thoughts and “put them all together one day.” (She told me that she’s kept journals going back to the fifth grade.) She’d been dwelling on the shooting, turning over its meaning in her head––particularly the fact that the perpetrator turned out to be an Asian immigrant himself. The reflection is, in some ways, part of her work. Last October, during a panel I moderated at The New Yorker Festival, on “identity and craft,” Oh said that in the past the characters she played hadn’t “necessarily had their history, their family, their race, their culture explored.” Now, she added, her overriding interest was in “telling Asian American stories.”
Oh is still revered by fans for her decade-long stint as Cristina Yang, the unapologetically ambitious cardiothoracic surgeon and devoted best friend on “Grey’s Anatomy.” More recently, her portrayal of the world-weary British intelligence agent Eve Polastri, in BBC America’s breakout hit “Killing Eve,” earned her a raft of awards and critical plaudits. It was during the pandemic, however, as violence against Asians surged, that Oh’s artistic choices seemed to coalesce into a sense of purpose. She was at her farcical best as Ji-Yoon Kim, the pathbreaking English-department chair at Pembroke University, in the Netflix series “The Chair,” released in 2021. Last summer, she began production of an original Hulu comedy movie with the comedian and actress Nora Lum, otherwise known as Awkwafina. Oh is now filming a miniseries adaptation of “The Sympathizer,” Viet Thanh Nguyen’s tragicomic novel on the Vietnamese refugee experience, which won the Pulitzer Prize in 2016. The project is slated for HBO, and one of its creative visionaries is the South Korean filmmaker Park Chan-wook.
In March, 2021, Oh was in the middle of production of “The Chair,” in Pennsylvania, when a white man went on a shooting rampage in Georgia, killing eight people, six of whom were women of Asian descent. Afterward, Oh made an unexpected appearance at a “Stop Asian Hate” rally in Pittsburgh. She took the megaphone and delivered a rousing speech that culminated with her asking the crowd to join her in repeating a mantra, which could have been a credo for her Hollywood career. “I am proud to be Asian,” she said, thrusting her hand high, and then pointing it at the ground in front of her. “I belong here.”
In the span of more than two hours on a Friday last month, she spoke about identity, opportunity, winning the lottery, and why she’s no longer waiting for the “white dudes” of the industry to call.
#sandra oh#interview#the new yorker#she's back#she's breathtaking#this is a sandra oh safe space#life after killing eve#this is what it looks like
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I want you to know how absolutely IN LOVE I am with Lavender Skies
The whole time I was reading it I was genuinely in awe.
I’m so bad with words and explaining but it’s genuinely written so beautifully.
The way you give such life to it is astounding.
It’s so easy to see yourself in it but also so easy to see it as almost an oc? Not in the way where it feels alienating but in the way that there so much personality and love between them that it makes it seem so full of life it that makes any sense?
And the
“That you live, instead, somewhere in the parentheses of both.”
And
“You fit against him, tucked safe between the parentheses of his arms.”
K i l l e d m e
It’s one of my favorite aspects of it it’s so beautiful
I really love also how there no smut lmao
I love that it’s just romantic and comforting and full of love and affection.
Fanfiction is such a powerful medium and of course people can write what they want but it does get a little repetitive to see nothing but sexual content in my opinion. (No shade of course that’s all lovely too and can be very well written) but it’s so refreshing to see something so beautiful and full of love without sex being the main ‘theme’ ig?
Especially for how under-written Gaz it makes me appreciate this so much more.
I really hope that you’re as proud of this as I am cause it’s genuine a work of art.
My new favorite fic out of literally any I’ve read.
Thank you so much!
💚
Ahhh, thank you!!! I'm really glad you liked it 🖤
I've written tonnes of smut - a lot of it is incredibly gratuitous and just there for the sake of being there, but I also think physical intimacy can be a great way to explore deeper, more complex emotions like vulnerability, too. It can definitely be deeper than just instant gratification, but it just wasn't as important as the feelings already festering between them, if that makes sense. Plus, I think first time smut between these two would be pretty heavy on the emotional side since these two have been pining for a decade (and it would be a side of each other not yet explored which has it's own caveat, me thinks), but this was already chocked full of emotion and adding anything else felt a bit overwhelming.
I also had this whole background planned out for them (from college to now) to give more insight into their relationship but I cut it out to focus on them, in the present, instead. I was hoping the ambiguity would let people dream up their own scenarios about what happened, charting this relationship from start to finish with their own personal experiences and desires, but it snuck in, anyway 😅 I like blank slate characters but sometimes you need to give them a little bit of life to get the plot moving lmao
Ahhh, this comment really made my day!! I was pretty worried about this since most of what I write is a lot like an essay where I feel the need to constantly prove my thesis (they're in love and here is the proof in example a, b, and c), so this was a bit new to me and almost completely void of flashbacks (almostttttt), but this sort of quelled a lot of my fears. Thank you so much!!! 🖤
#ahhhhhhh#this got away from me so much#it took so long to answer because i wrote an essay originally
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New & Improved Morning Routine...
I have upgraded my life and therefore upgraded my morning routine...
Running with the motto that how you do one thing is how you do anything. With the understanding that Morning is the foundation of the day. For me in particular, if I can start my day off feeling successful or proud of myself I know I am slated for more small wins throughout the day.
Even if it is just something like practicing patience or accepting gratitude.
Here is the new & improved morning routine:
6:30a | Rising - I still wake up with an alarm, eventually I will discontinue it but for now I got something with ocean sounds to wake me up a little bit more gently.
At this time I give my body a very deep stretch in bed and turn on something motivational from a content creator on youtube. I realized this stimulates my mind enough to encourage me out of bed within 5/10 minutes.
7a | At this time a second alarm goes off. If by some chance I am still in bed, this is my final warning to get tf up.
I get a glass of water in my system
Then move on to the bathroom for hygiene (flossing, brushing, washing my face, hair, and natural or soft glam makeup)
7:30a | By this time I need to be preparing breakfast if I am having any at home. Usually, it will be cereal with some fresh fruit, a smoothie, and possibly some eggs & turkey bacon, but always strive to get some fresh fruit in the AM
While I am preparing breakfast I try to get dressed and pack my bag if I can, if I am just having cereal I will just eat and then dress. My clothes are already picked out from the night before or Monday night for the whole week.
I also take my supplements which are (Citicoline & Lions mane, Matcha & B12, Magnesium L-threonate, & Collagen)
8:05a | By this time I am all ready to go but the last step in my routine is to sit down and meditate. A 5-7 minute meditation where I can remind myself that I have breath in my lungs, patience in my heart, and gratitude readily available to me.
And I pack my coffee to go, rn I just used storebought iced coffee & oat milk creamer, usually flavored w brown sugar.
#morning routine#it girl routine#successful morning#baddie#beauty#beauttiful girls#certifiedtarotbarbie
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The Lucien Project: Day 27
Hi everybody! To keep myself accountable this NaNoWriMo season, I am going to be posting my word count on here every day, with an excerpt from the draft novel! I had meant to slate myself more writing time for today, but lethargy got in the way. I am doing my best to keep up, but, realistically, will not be able to reach 50k by the deadline. Am I proud of myself? Still to be determined. Here’s your excerpt.
11/27/2022: 4,034 words written
As calendared, today was another observation day. It will be about another week before our allotted development time with Child L. During Break, assistant Dr. AS observed Lucien in his room. He was there for nearly an hour before Dr. Poole picked him up for his Morning Walk. During this Break, AS reports that Child L mostly sat at the edge of the bed, staring at his closed door. She noted that sometimes he would fiddle with his hands. Other than thumb-twiddling, Child L appeared to just wait. This has been consistent with other observations of Break during the past few months. Is there anything that we would be allowed to introduce to his bedroom environment? Perhaps there would be something more to observe if he had some toy to play with, or something else to interact with? It seems cruel to have such an empty room for a child. Most children at this age have access to many toys that help them with fine-tuning motor skills and hand strength. Should these options be available in his bedroom? Or is there some other purpose to providing him with a period of silence and inactivity during Break
Assistant Dr. ST observed Child L in the Playroom this evening. As with the daily reports for the past week, ST reports that Child L painted on the old teacher’s easel. She claims that he painted the entire sheet blue, slowly and seemingly meticulously, until Dr. Poole picked him up for Evening Rest. ST recovered the artwork, and put it in storage with his other works.
I am wondering about his recent obsession with the color blue. Psychologically, the color blue can be used to affect feelings of calmness or tranquility. From that perspective, is Child L feeling uncomfortable in his situation? Does he paint the color blue to make him feel more safe? From color theory perspectives, the color blue means freedom, imagination, open spaces - is Child L longing for more freedom? ST, from her observations, believes that Child L is simply not finished with the paintings, that the blue is simply a background color. We will continue to remove artworks from the Playroom as directed, but ST has voiced wanting to leave a blue painting behind, to see if he continues to paint it blue, or if he paints something else atop it.
I am also trying to plan how our physical observation of Child L will proceed next week. We have determined that 1) Child L can not understand human speech; 2) Child L responds well to physical gesturing; 3) Images can only be received when making eye contact. Instead of attempting to draw or act out our communications, I am wondering if we should try sending Images back? Is that even a possibility? This is not something that we have yet explored, but I wonder if trying this will help unlock something further about Child L. I fear there is too much still that we do not understand.
-Dr. ON
#nanowrimo#national novel writing month#creative writing#original writing#excerpt#novel excerpt#science fiction#The Lucien Project#writing challenge
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Linkverse writing?? I guess??! It’s a tad simple and rough around the edges, but hey, isn’t everything if you look close enough? I’m proud enough of it to share, so that’s a win in my books!
Title: Tree Trekking Characters: Twilight, Sky, Time, and Wild No warnings for this one (Although highly vague twilight princess spoilers?) “Tags” First meetings - the start of bonding - Sky being a good boy - Time is a little bastard - Twilight is tired
Enjoy!
“Those look like rain clouds…” Link signed, dreading the thought.
“Ah- I think you’re right.” Feathers replied the same way.
Link winced, but gathered himself quickly after, making sure his adventure pouch was properly attached to his belt. They didn’t need a member of the group complaining AND also him having a loose adventure pouch.
...He sounded like a dork- Goddesses, he was panicking a little wasn’t he? Rain wasn’t a big problem, but on top of everything else it felt like a slap to the face.
He had been snapped to another world, teamed up with two strangers who were also him, apparently, and now it was going to rain.
The little guy had nothing to say either, but that wasn’t anything new.
Taking leading action, Link gathered himself, found his posture and signed to the Link whose Hyrule this apparently was. “Do you know anywhere we could find shelter?”
The little guy turned to look at him, with an expression that made it seem like he had insulted his entire family. “It’s just rain.”
Link sighed. “We don’t have much on us, a town with an inn and a shop to purchase a bedroll or two seems like a good idea.”
The little guy was quiet, before turning around and walking off. By this point Link knew that was his way of saying “follow me.”
He quickly checked Feathers, who with a slight stumble and a check on his items was on his way to follow as well.
With the small one in the lead, followed by Link and Feathers, the day continued like the past few had.
It had been strange, suddenly ending up here with a bunch of strangers like this. With Feathers it had been easy, the guy seemed to have a good heart. However with the little guy it was a different story. He seemed to speak the minimum possible, and didn’t especially want to stay as a group- Making it a daily battle to convince him to keep helping them navigate this hyrule.
Still, they were managing.
“We should probably try to get you a sword too.”
Feathers seemed taken back by this, before smiling awkwardly: “We’ve not run into anything, though, have we? Besides, you two seem quite used to wielding yours.”
“I don’t trust this situation.” Link confessed. “Something is bound to go wrong.”
Feathers gave him a sympathetic look.
“I’m serious.” He insisted. “The air doesn’t just crack and cause people to teleport through time and space. Something bad is in the air.”
Feathers seemed to want to say something to deny it, but couldn’t. He turned his head forwards again, facing where they were going. “I have other weapons.”
Link still felt unsure, but accepted it for now.
A bit more traveling, now down what seemed to be a dirt path, Link felt the silence beginning to grind on him. He clenched his hands to fists, and released them, repeating this action a few times to calm his nerves. When it wasn’t enough, though, he shook his head and fastened his walking pace.
This way he caught up to the small guide, and signed: “Can you share the route with me? I’d like a better understanding of what to expect.”
The kid looked annoyed again, but after a moment replied: “Kakariko is down this road, to the west until we reach a big rock, and then down the road next to it.”
“Thank you.” He said, breathing with purpose to calm himself, as he fell back behind to walk next to Feathers again.
It had been a long time since he had panicked like this last. It had been at a cell, in a strange body and shackled to the floor. It had been when Midna’s hold on his fur had weakened further as he tried to be faster despite the pain. It had…
Link sighed. He’d survived all of those, he had been hurt, but he survived. He could handle yet another journey to an unknown world. This is fine.
The little guy disappeared in that second.
Link blinked.
The kid had genuinely disappeared- One moment he was there, the next he wasn’t.
This was not fine, actually.
“Where did he go?!” He signed frantically to Feathers.
“I don’t know!” Feathers responded, equally bewildered. “Did I see that right?! Did he-”
“Did he vanish…?” He signed as well, turning to look at the spot again.
“Maybe-” Feathers, panicking much more clearly than Link was: “Maybe he got sent to another world, like we were.”
“That beats him being dead.”
Feathers was shaken by that addition, but Link ignored it in favour of walking over to where the kid had been and looking around. It was of no use, of course, but he felt powerless and not doing anything felt wrong.
Not again- Not again-
There was a loud crack inside his ears, and the space between him and Feathers looked like it was cracked glass. This strange scene lasted as long as it took it to arrive, and in the next moment: instead of reality looking broken, there was another boy.
This new stranger took a hitched breath, taking a quick step backwards, Having immediately noticed Link. The step however lead him right into Feathers, which caused the stranger to yelp and manifest a blade twice his size from blue light.
Feathers threw his hands in the air, panic filled eyes looking between the armed boy and Link.
Link breathed in and out, as he moved to walk around the newcomer and next to Feathers, with his hands up in the air as well. He hoped that moving from behind the stranger would make him realize he didn’t care for that tactical advantage, and was looking for peace.
The stranger watched, the weapon still in hand, but took no action.
“Are you-” Link signed: “L-I-N-K?”
The stranger’s eyes grew suspicious with each letter, and Link figured he had made a mistake of some sorts.
Quickly trying to bridge the miscommunication, he added: “So are we.”
The stranger shook his head, which wasn’t ideal.
“No?” Link signed. “What do you mean no?”
To that the stranger didn’t seem to have an answer for. Simply shrugging like it was obvious.
“He’s being honest.” Feathers joined in. “We’re both Link, the hero of courage.”
After eyeing the two over like they had lost their minds, the stranger sighed. “I don’t believe you.” He signed. “But I’m also not sure where I am.”
“That’s fair.” Link supposed. “We’re willing to share our information.”
“Spill it, then.”
After explaining their understanding of how they got here, and what they were doing, the stranger sighed and agreed that going to a town would seem smart in his eyes as well.
However he chose to walk behind Feathers and Link, which Link couldn’t blame him for. He had his own fair share of paranoia of the situation, after all.
Besides, he’d know if the kid tried to approach with a blade in hand, he was awfully good at keeping an eye on his surroundings.
Not good enough, though. Despite following the route the first angry kid had given: they somehow got lost anyway. Sure they found a big rock, but there was no path near it that led to anywhere other than more wilderness.
“Did we misunderstand?” Feathers asked him.
Link furrowed his brow, unsure of the answer. He was quite sure they had gone the exact route the kid described.
The newcomer whistled suddenly, causing the two older to turn and look at him.
He seemed annoyed, and signed: “Is this a trap?”
“I mean, if it was we wouldn’t tell you.” Feathers signed back, at which Link elbowed him.
“It’s not a trap. This is neither of our Hyrule, so we don’t know where things are. The person who gave us instructions either forgot something or we failed to follow it right.”
The stranger crossed his arms, and pouted. Suspicious.
Link, wanting to hit his head against the trees until he could disappear from this situation, tried to breathe in and out and figure this situation out before anything worse happened. “We can probably try and find it on our own.”
“Oh, true.” Feathers replied, smiling again.
“Alright.” The newcomer accepted, still tense.
“Great.” Link responded, tired. “What does everyone here know about scouting?”
Feathers looked a bit flustered, and admitted: “I spent most of my life on a single island- In the sky.”
“Ok.” was all Link could muster.
“I’m okay at it.” The newcomer said, looking a bit less confident than before. “I know what signs to keep an eye out for.”
Link nodded at this. Back in the day he could’ve asked Midna to change his form so he could simply smell the strange scent that towns had, but that stopped being an option a long time ago.
He could still manage with human senses. He had done so for the majority of his life.
So after they pooled their knowledge of what to look out for, they began trekking forwards. Although it was more the two actually experienced people describing some basic things to the one from the sky.
After one man-made path diverged into two, the tired air of the group only grew worse.
“So- Which way?” Feathers asked, trying to not cause anymore tension with the question, by smiling gently.
The newcomer lifted the strange slate he had on his belt, and used it to get a better look forward. It wasn’t enough, though: “The foliage is too thick, I can’t see where either of them leads.”
Feathers pouted.
Link, quite frustrated at this point, signed simply: “Just one thing we can do, then.” And proceeded to scan the area for the tallest tree.
Feathers looked in mild curiosity as Link walked up to an alright specimen, and proceeded to climb it with almost no trouble. Branch to branch, and a good grip on the wood while still being mindful of it’s well being.
From high up he could take a far better look around the area, and found his nerves eased as he spotted smoke from further on and down the right path, as well as the gentle breeze that flowed freely up there. He smiled, despite himself, and climbed back down.
Once he landed with a gentle thud, he let Feathers know what he had seen, before turning to look at the newcomer.
He had stayed by the path, unlike Feathers who had gone to wait for him at the trunk of the tree, and was looking at him with what Link would describe as surprise.
“I was raised on a farm.” Link stated, feeling actually a little up for joking, before he started walking down the right path.
The journey went alright, and although the smoke turned out to be from but a small cottage, it meant they weren’t entirely on the wrong track. Someone was able to live here, so it would mean a town could exist nearby as well.
The newcomer, who hadn’t said much, spoke up another few minutes into the walk, as they tried to decide between three paths this time. “I could climb this time?”
Link was a little surprised, but nodded and gave him a supportive smile. “Go for it.” It was nice seeing the hostility gone, and in its place a want to help.
What he saw then, was… Unexpected. The newcomer proceeded to pick a tree at ease, and then climb at a speed Link had never seen before. It was extremely impressive, and somewhat terrifying.
“Woah.” Said feathers.
Link nodded, slow and stunned.
When the kid returned to ground level- With a thud and an expert landing to boot -he explained that with the zoom on his slate he was able to spot a town. He wasn’t sure which path would lead to it, but if the rest were fine with just going to that general direction until they got to it, he’d be able to lead them.
Feathers and Link approved of the plan, and now followed after the newcomer who was walking forth, at times checking the slate.
Feathers began to talk to him about beacons, apparently something on the slate reminded him of his adventure. Link tuned it out due to not really getting it, and breathed in the forest air.
This was all very strange, but it was nice that no-one was being a grump for once.
At sunset they reached the town, and having moved along with the rain cloud, it only caught up to them at the village gates.
Link gave the newcomer a pat on the shoulder, which surprised him. “Good work.” He signed before heading forward to look for an inn.
The rain only caught them when they had a roof above their heads, as they had moved in the same direction as it had been heading.
Sitting in a shared room, there was that strange snap-crack again, and the other kid was back. Strange face markings as clear on the face of annoyance as always.
The newcomer didn’t disappear, so their three person room had just become crowded.
“Oh.” The kid commented, looking at them all, including the newcomer. “You made it.”
“...Were we not supposed to?” Link asked.
“I gave you the wrong directions.”
Link blinked. He was stunned, having trouble processing the situation. Not because it was so unexpected, but because he hadn’t seen it coming despite how obvious it was this kid wouldn’t help them properly.
“Why?!”
“I didn’t want you to find the town.”
“Again, why?”
“I don’t trust you.” The response was instant.
Link sighed, it wasn’t a reason he could exactly fight.
Giving up, he sat down on one of the beds. This was going to be a stressful adventure, wasn’t it? He lent back a bit, looking at the ceiling. He couldn’t deny the truth of that question, but a part of him wasn’t entirely bothered. It had been a while since he’d slept in a room with another living being.
#The Legend of Zelda#Linkverse#Loz#Twilight Princess#Breath of the wild#Skyward Sword#not tagging the fourth one since he's there for like 2 scenes#Note to self: Describe the enviorment you little goober#They can't see the image in your head you foolish fool#Ah well#I'm still proud
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moments from the wolf 359 finale behind-the-scenes podcast that made me *clenches fist* really happy
spoilers for the finale!!
everyone! was in the studio! at the same time!!!! they really recorded the episode with everybody there
michelle agresti: “hallo-wolf, halloweekend!”
michelle made goddard futuristics nametags for everybody :)
michaela and scotty’s opening is so much more sinister-sounding without the music
a lot of the podcast is raw audio from the recordings. first, the cast is SO talented. second, you never realize how much the audio engineering and music add to the podcast. HOLY SHIT the difference between the raw recordings and the finished product is unreal
noah masur, dramatic VO voice: “i’m doing these slates for my podcast. the show. wolf 360. space wolves.” everyone cracks up in the background
ariela rotenberg: “I’M GONNA DIE! I’m killing kepler!” zach libresco: “hey, you come for the top, you best not mISS”
ariela: “yeah I died. I died a LOT”
zach l: “he drinks whiskey before he dies. like, you can’t get a death better than that”
scotty shoemaker performs cutter dying painfully and then it’s cut immediately to group laughter
emma sherr-ziarko: “that’s my favorite part. it’s funny minkowski!”
cecilia lynn-jacobs: “the days that i’m proud of myself are her every day.”
i’m going to cry
the last scene they recorded was the last scene of the episode alskdjfalskdf
emma, wonderingly: “have i really done all my parts before now? is that real? i think we forgot one.” noah: “gabriel, did we forget a season?”
zach libresco: “we’ve officially entered the ‘i’m not crying, you’re crying’ part of the evening”
noah, to loud background laughter: “as we get ready for this slate, i can’t help remembering the time that i made a visit to this school...where they are sadly without many slates, and i gave them a speech, and i said to them, i said in the speech, i said something that i learned at home [scotty: “someone’s stalling”] , which was GOIK BLURK *rasping dying noises*, and they learned a lot of things that day. and the first thing they learned was that this is episode 61, section 45, take 1″ and the iMMEDIATELY launches into his line, perfectly in character
emma is clearly one of the people laughing loudest, but she switches back to minkowski incredibly quickly
emma finishes the first take of her last line and everyone starts cheering
they put music back in and go through some of the final lines for jacobi, hera, lovelace, eiffel, and minkowski. + alan rodi’s cameo <3
i’m ugly crying
gabriel urbina: and there we went. and that’s it.
emma talking about how minkowski is the first female role she’s played that was of great substance!!
ceci talking about how great it was to hang out with people from college and see them grow up and become “the next iteration of who we are”
as if I could forget that they were basically all friends in college. legends only
zach libresco: “it’s a wild ride. it’s a blast!”
and that’s it :)
link if you want to re-listen
#i finished wolf 359 about 48 hours ago and i cannot stop thinking about it#i'm hyperfixating and i don't even feel guilty this time#wolf 359#wolf 359 spoilers#wolf 359 cast#zach valenti#emma sherr ziarko#michaela swee#cecilia lynn jacobs#zach libresco#noah masur#michelle agresti#scotty shoemaker#ariela rotenberg#gabriel urbina#sarah shachat#alan rodi#jared paul#mine#kirsten listens to wolf 359
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Verse 1: E L U C I D]
Ugh, off the strength, I'm not as numb as I thought
I'm broken links, my circle shrinking smaller
Satellite revolve, my core is a cauldron
Surrendered orbits
Cross-check what's really real and what's performance
Speak for self, but wondering who else really on it
Who's really all in?
(Hello) Trouble calling
My phone don't ping, I'm buzzed, leave me alone
Truth with a stash pocket for a lie
The document is alive, I speak life
Every border gets revised if dissolved
What defines what is charged?
Haven't made up my mind if I'm assigned to the stars
I slide when I want, I'm inside of the funk, trust
She want up when it dump, it came from the sludge
Involuntary, shooting foundations in studs
Tears and snot bubbles, sob puddles
I lay in the wet spot
Listen, let's not conflate, I give what I take
It's the hunt, there is the chase
Some talk like they never got punched in the face
You can't see clearly now, don't come near me
Wails of the weary, loop max infinite
Draw me closer, damn near intimate
[Interlude]
And I'll give you a kiss
(*Smooch*)
[Verse 2: billy woods]
The flier said "Grown and Sexy"
I came through over-proofing the plastic Pepsi bottle
Security didn't check me
Skipped coat check, they playin' the oldies
I'ma go 'head and get sweaty
Plus saved the ten-piece
It's hell up in Harlem, so meet me 'cross 110th Street
If the tree's a bargain, bars—that don't really tempt me
I'm from where every car foreign
And we drive 'em on empty (Zimbabwe)
Bury me in a borrowed suit
Give my babies my rhyme books, but tell 'em, "Do you"
Give my enemies the good news: Time flew
We was probably brothers back then like T-R-U
No jerseys, no durags, hard-bottom shoes
Niggas tired of the foolishness
No disrespect, it's a lotta mids in the room
My pack loud, cut right through
Kofi Annan in the booth, Soyinka in the stu'
Sese Seko Mobutu if the DJ play something smooth (Slide on 'em)
It's a move, I don't dance, but maybe tonight, maybe tonight
I don't know her and I don't even mind if it is the strobe light
Live for the living
I made chicken late night in my boxers, burning up the kitchen
She passed out right when I was done fixing
I watch reruns in the dark, fingers and lips glistening
[Interlude]
Ooh, get 'em
I'm so damn proud of myself
I did this for you, G, alright?
[Verse 3: Earl Sweatshirt]
Been to there and back, tall tales tossed to the breeze
We keep facts in the midnight wax, family tree sap
Light leak through the leaves on familiar tracks
I know it's real even when I'm feeling bad
Resilient as they built the black
She shimmy into the—yeah, that's consent gettin' established
You only trash if you trash, I keep it simple and dynamic
Trust the passage rites to life's chapters
I have to write to find balance
This game of telephone massive
I do what I have to with the fragments
The madness method rampant these days, I let the panic pass me
Featherweight, my heart was straight despite baggage
Asymptomatic, but I get sick of the delays—faster, faster
Practicing practice in what I preach, keep pace
The calcium on my teeth fade
Streets are blazed with the anger complacency and deceit create
Ice sheet break, I couldn't weave weight
All I could say to the times that I couldn't freeze-frame, bleak fate
You got so much to bleed to clean-slate (I've got so much of my—)
The bag of tricks in my sleeve breaks
Southpaw under the North Star, forcing all the league changes
(I've got so) Don't sleep late
[Outro]
I, I've got so much
I, I've got so much
I, I've got so much
I
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My Only Wish (Naughty or Nice)
The fifth prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts
Prompt List
Cover Art: coming soon!
Words: 2087
Summary: Zelda reads about a foreign holiday called Christmas and decides to bring to life one of the traditions for the other Champions. She’ll need a red suit and a bag of gifts, but luckily she knows just the person to pull off the holly, jolly Santa Claus.
BotW Pre-Calamity Zelink, not AoC related!
Zelink-mas 2020 l Masterlist
Link was beginning to wonder if the pressure was getting to the princess. She was always pushing forwards in the face of adversity, but it wasn’t her frustration and sadness that made him believe she’d finally cracked.
It was when they took up residence in her study and she whirled on him with a book in her hands about goddesses only knew what.
“I’ve conducted some research,” she began, which was not new to him but filled him with a sense of playful dread anyway, “regarding Hylia’s Day and other holidays we celebrate here in Hyrule. We know that culture and religion are the basis of all holidays, and the difference in what is celebrated and how stems from those traditions. I was curious about the world outside of Hyrule. I thought perhaps I could read something about their beliefs and traditions that could help me awaken my power, but I found a celebration that’s incredibly similar to ours.”
She dropped the book on her desk and cracked it open, beckoning for him to join her. He stepped over, standing close enough so that when he leaned forwards to join her over the pages of the book, he could smell the flowery scent of her hair.
He couldn’t read anything on the page. Not when his attention was taken up entirely by her. So he listened to her speak again, following her fingers dancing along the page.
“A religion referred to as Christianity celebrates something called Christmas. For worshipers of the faith, this day is celebrated as the birth of their savior. But the holiday became something widely celebrated by people not of that faith. It became a day of giving gifts and spending time with family. People decorate with trees and lights and hold grand parties. And just like how Hylia brings joy and peace to families on Hylia’s Eve, they too have a figure that travels to every corner of the world, leaving gifts for the children! Multiple sources have claimed that this figure keeps a list sorting the children into categories—meaning whether or not they’ve been naughty in the past year, or nice. Naughty children are given coal, which is quite funny really. He goes by quite a bit of names, too. Father Christmas, Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, Saint Nicholas—but they’re essentially talking about the same figure.”
“There’s a lot of similarities,” Link agreed, glancing in her direction.
“I know what you’re thinking. What does any of this have to do with the sealing power?” Her cheeks flushed, the pink tint reaching to the tips of her ears. “Well, ah… it doesn’t. But Hylia’s Day is coming up and… and everyone’s been so down and patience is wearing thin and I thought perhaps we could do something to cheer everyone up.”
He wasn’t sure what sort of unseen force compelled him to obey the princess. Yet he couldn’t even bring himself to think that the scheme she’d come up with was absurd. He’d follow her to the ends of Hyrule should she ask him to.
It was why he wasn’t exactly surprised to find himself accompanying Zelda and a holly, jolly Daruk across Hyrule. Though he couldn’t believe the princess had actually crafted the entirety of Father Christmas’s red outfit.
“This Sandy Claws really doesn’t know fashion,” the Goron said, adjusting the hat upon his head. “The less restrictive the clothing, the better for movement.”
“You play the part very well,” Zelda assured, patting the towering boulder on the arm. “Besides, I read that he’s quite the eater. Children leave out cookies and milk for him, so perhaps you’ll get lucky tonight.”
“If the cookies are prime, crunchy rock, then I can hardly resist. Right, brother?”
Daruk slapped him on his back, sending Link tumbling forwards. Zelda’s arms caught him, and he was quick to regain his balance with the feeling that the Goron did that on purpose.
“Besides, we’re really only visiting the other Champions. I wish we could do more, but we’re lacking the magical sleigh that can travel at the speed of light,” Zelda spoke again, tapping away at the Sheikah Slate.
“Santa leaving Santa a gift, huh?”
“Oh, Link already took care of that. You’re not allowed to open it until the morning.”
Daruk turned to look at him, surprised. Link only shrugged with a small, only slightly smug smile.
“I’m sneaky,” he said. The Goron laughed and Link took a step closer to Zelda to prevent being slapped on the back and sent tumbling off of Death Mountain.
“So what did you deem me?” Daruk asked, his hands resting on his hips to Link’s utter relief.
“Nice, of course,” Zelda replied with a pat to his arm. “I can’t think of anyone who might be classified as naughty.”
Link could think of one.
But he didn’t voice his opinion and instead shrugged in agreement, and the three of them were off to Zora’s Domain. He had to admit wearing the green of the mythical Santa’s Elves was an experience—he felt a sort of respect for the color. But it was nothing compared to how Zelda looked in her costume. She’d really gone all out for this, with a green little hat and all. It was cute, and admirable really, that she was willing to go so far to spread happiness.
Happiness they desperately needed right now, with the Calamity looming ever above their heads and constricting them like a snake.
Anyway.
He supposed it would’ve been hard for anyone not to react upon seeing three oddly dressed individuals, Zora guardsmen included. But all the Princess of Hyrule had to do was smile and they let it go without question.
“What’s your ruling on Mipha, Father Christmas?” Zelda asked, lifting the Sheikah Slate.
“Nice,” Daruk decided, rather unsurprisingly. But Link nodded in agreement.
“Sidon too. Can’t leave something for Mipha and not her little brother,” he pointed out.
“I’m hurt you think I hadn’t considered that,” replied Zelda with a satisfied smile. “Alright, each package is specifically wrapped. Mipha gets the red box with the blue bow, and Sidon is the blue box with the red bow.”
Daruk swung the red sack from his shoulder and rummaged through it.
“You might have to do this one, tiny princess. Not sure how the big guy does it without waking anyone.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re more than capable! We’ll be right there with you,” Zelda encouraged, pulling something from the Sheikah Slate. “But if you feel you need it, I made an elixir that increases stealth.”
“What would we do without you?”
The trip into Zora’s domain was relatively short after that. Zelda slipped into Mipha’s room to deliver the gift while Daruk and Link took care of Sidon, and she was pleased to know it’d been successful. Then, they were on their way to Gerudo for the next Champion.
“Urbosa was incredibly hard to gift,” the princess said, thinking aloud. But Link was listening anyway, glancing over to her incase she decided to continue.
“What did you end up getting her?” Daruk asked as he paused to rummage through the sack of presents.
“Something of my mother’s,” Zelda replied simply, eyeing the small, wrapped box. “I think she would treasure it.”
A tiny smile graced her lips and Link felt his fingers twitch with the urge to take her hand. But she didn’t look sad. If anything, she looked comforted.
“You should deliver this one, Princess. I mean, Santa or not, Link and I can’t get into town,” Daruk pointed out.
“I’ll be quick,” she promised before disappearing behind the walls of Gerudo Town. And while he knew she was safe there, he always felt an anxiety he couldn’t place.
“She’s real spirited,” said Daruk, nearly knocking Link over with his nudge. “It’s mighty kind of her to want to do this for us.”
“She wants to spread happiness,” he replied with a small shrug.
“And is it working?” the Goron asked. Link didn’t answer, but he made a point to not look at Daruk and instead kept his gaze on the arching entrance to the town. A few minutes later, Zelda came back out and the group made their way to Hebra.
“Revali,” Zelda spoke, tapping at the slate. “What’s your ruling?”
“Naughty,” Link replied, without missing a beat. The Princess stared at him for a moment, then pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter.
“I don’t want to agree, but..” Daruk said, scratching his beard, “he did call me an ‘oversized pebble’.”
“Revali’s just..”
“Mean,” Link input, cutting Zelda off without really intending to.
“I was going to say young.”
“Well, so are you and the little guy here!” Daruk argued.
“Revali is a strong personality, and the Rito are a proud people,” Zelda stated, crossing her arms over her chest. “It would be rather rude to gift everyone but him.”
“I thought Santa’s whole thing was rewarding the good and punishing the bad,” said Daruk.
“Yes, but Revali isn’t bad, per say. Besides, we didn’t bring any coal.”
“I live on a volcano.”
“..Daruk.. tell me you did not pack coal.”
“That would be a lie, tiny princess.”
It was Link’s turn to fight back a laugh this time, biting the inside of his cheeks to keep it contained.
“Well, I can’t exactly stop you. But be sure to leave the real present too!”
But Daruk had disappeared into Rito Village, leaving the elf-dressed duo behind.
“I still think Revali would be on the naughty list,” Link said with a shrug. Zelda gave him a playful shove.
“Be nice,” she reprimanded, shaking her head.
“Do you think it’s possible for Revali to be nice?”
“I— I refuse to speak ill about any of my Champions,” but she was smiling through her words and that was enough of an agreement for Link. “I do hope Daruk hurries. I’m not sure how long the stealth elixir will last.”
“I’m sure that would make for an interesting sight to wake up to.”
To that, she laughed. Maybe the best part of the night was getting to spend time with her outside of Calamity related business. It almost felt like they were friends.
And then Daruk was back, and the group got ready to part ways.
“Thank you, Daruk. It was fun,” Zelda spoke, setting a hand on his arm.
“The fun’s not done just yet, tiny princess. I’ve got two more on the nice list to gift.” The Goron pulled two more wrapped gifts from his bag, handed one to each of them, then set off for Death Mountain with a wink.
Link looked at the gift in his hands, something a little heavy with a beautiful wrapping job that could only have been done by nimble fingers. He glanced up at Zelda, who seemed just as surprised.
Well, it seemed he wasn’t the only one who snuck something into the bag.
“Um,” she spoke, fiddling with her unopened gift. “I just.. it’s nothing big, but I.. I thought you’d enjoy it and you’re a Champion as well..”
Oh, it was a cue. Link nodded once, then carefully unwrapped the rectangular object. What remained in his hands was a book, and a fairly thick one at that.
“I had to beg every chef I know to get the recipes,” Zelda said again, taking a slight step forward. “It contains food from Faron to Goron City, as much as I could find. I also threw in some older recipes I found in cookbooks in the library, but I’m not sure how good any of them are.”
“I.. thank you,” Link replied, because there was really nothing he could say. He looked up at Zelda and offered a small smile, even if it wouldn’t be enough.
She ducked her head and started to open her own gift. As soon as the treat was revealed, he found it was his turn to nervously explain.
“I heard it’s your favorite. I, uh, scribbled down a recipe I found, so if it’s not good..”
But she was smiling at him, and his words died on his tongue.
“My mother used to make a fruitcake every Hylia’s Day,” she said, and before he could give an apology or say anything else, she was hugging him. “Thank you.”
When Link returned to his quarters for the rest of the night away, he fell asleep with one thought in his head.
One day, he would love to cook every recipe in that book for the Princess.
#zelink#botw link#botw zelda#botw zelink#christmas prompts#zelink prompts#another dunk on revali#he'll never have peace so long as i'm an author
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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 11
Title: Old Wounds
Warnings: none. But there’s always profanity, just an FYI
Tagging: @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @tragiclyhip
“Well I’ve got good news and bad news,” Tyler announces, as he descends the stairs later in the evening, pausing at the front entrance to switch off the foyer light and lock the door and set the alarm before joining his wife in the living room. “Which do you want first?”
Esme glances up from the mountains of clean laundry that takes up residence at her feet and on the already cluttered coffee table. Laundry baskets of differing colours are scattered around the room. A larger one that consists of their clothing and smaller containers labelled with each of the kids’ names; the latter eventually being placed in intervals on the stairs in hopes they’ll be carried up to the corresponding rooms. For the most part, the kids are good at getting their assigned chores done. The littles enjoying a ‘sticker chart’ that signifies a treat or toy of their choosing when full, and the older ones satisfied with decent sized allowances. Despite an extremely healthy bank account and money constantly flowing in, they’re still expected to ‘tow the line’; being taught responsibility and learning skills that will help them become self reliant and well functioning adults.
She wrinkles her nose and scowls. “Depends. On a scale of one to ten, how bad IS the bad news?”
“Considering it’s our kids we’re talking about?” He drops heavily onto the couch, wincing at the stiffness in his right knee when he stretches his leg out and places his foot on the edge of the coffee table. The cold weather is aggravating it; causing the arthritis to flare up and bringing with it an incessant ache that seems to have burrowed into the bone. Two reconstructive surgeries and a host of complications later, it’s as good as that leg is going to get. Already told to be prepared for a third surgery before he hits sixty. If he makes it that far. “I don’t know. I guess a four? Five at the most?”
“So that means no broken bones, knocked out teeth, and no one is unconscious or bleeding. In other words, it’s a relatively tame night for our house. Still…” she tosses a pair of mismatched socks into Tanner’s basket. He’s particular; socks always scrunched into a ball, never matching, and his other clothes separated by colour yet not folded, preferring to do it himself once he takes the basket upstairs. “...tell me the good news first. It’s been a weird day.”
“The good news is that all the little ones are already asleep. Tanner’s on his way out but he’s sleeping in the tub in the boys’ bathroom again because TJ and Declan are being too loud. Not even the headphones and locking himself in his happy place were doing the trick. I tried.”
“Well, at least he finds ways to cope and make himself happy, I guess. The bad news?”
“Millie and Alannah are showing no signs of slowing down. So if you’re wanting to actually get some shut eye, you might want to camp out down here. It’s going to be a long ass night.”
“Maybe I’ll borrow Tanner’s headphones,” she says, then grins at him over her shoulder. “That should help fend off your snoring too.”
“It can’t be THAT bad. You’ve been sharing a bed with me for twelve and a half years. I notice you don’t ever head for the couch. You put up with it.”
“Do you know many times in the past twelve and a half years I’ve been tempted to smother you with a pillow? Many. Many. MANY times.”
“Yet I’m still here.”
“Mostly because I wouldn’t do well in jail. I’d never survive in there. And prison jumpsuit orange is NOT my colour.”
“And here I was thinking maybe I’ve survived because you just love me THAT much.”
“It plays a small part in it. But just a small one. Just so you know.”
“You’d miss me. If I wasn’t around.”
“Like a migraine,” she teases, and yelps when he lands a playful yet solid backhand on one of the cheeks of her ass. “That’s not nice. That’s not friends.”
“Is that what we are? Friends? That’s as far as we’ve come in twelve and a half years?”
“Friends with the best benefits,” she chides, and snags an unfolded towel from the pile of laundry on the floor and smacks him upside the head with it. “I wouldn’t complain if I were you. You wouldn’t suddenly want to find yourself facing an extremely long dry spell.”
“I’d be alright. I have three wank files on my phone now.”
“Three? What do you need three for? And how do you even have that many pictures of me in the first place? Are you sneaking them while I’m asleep? Because that’s just...creepy...if you are.”
“Bold of you to assume that it’s just pictures of you.”
She drops her chin to her chest and stares at him pointedly.
“I’m kidding. I only need pictures of you. No one else. Well, there’s a couple of videos too, but…”
“I swear to God, if anyone ever goes into your phone and finds those? I will kill you. In the most brutal and painful way possible. Why do you need videos anyway?”
“Homemade porn. Best you can get.”
“You can’t watch regular porn like regular people?”
“I mean, I COULD. But I don’t want to. I want to watch you. Unleashing your inner porn star. Getting all freaky and kinky and shit. You should watch them with me. Be kind of hot, don’t think? Watch them and make a new one?”
“You’ve got issues. Serious issues.”
“I can’t help it. I can’t help that my wife is a total MILF. That she looks all tiny and cute and innocent but is a freak in bed. You shouldn’t have been so eager and willing if you didn’t want me scooping you up at that quick.”
She smirks. “I thought you said I was a B plus?”
“You were. Until I got a hold of you. Now? Solid A plus, plus, PLUS.”
“So you’re finally admitting that you DID corrupt me. After twelve and a half years denying it.”
“I merely helped you build on your skills. Improve them. I was more than willing to let you experiment on me.”
“Mmmhmm. You know, I was a good girl until you got a hold of me.”
“Like fuck you were. Good girls do NOT bang a guy...for five days straight...that they barely know. Unprotected.”
“I admit, that was not one of my finer judgement calls. But I trusted you. You didn’t seem like the type that didn’t take precautions. I mean, looking like you do and having women in different ports all over the world? That was a given. But you didn’t strike me as the type that wanted kids all over the world. Or STD’s. I trusted you. For some reason.”
“You just wanted the dick. Admit it. You were willing to sacrifice all your morals and standards for it.”
“I will admit to no such things. You were just as into it as I was. You didn’t exactly turn sex down. You didn’t seem too concerned about the whole protection thing. How did you know I wasn’t some hoe crawling with Lord knows what? How’d you know you weren’t going to get the burn?”
“I trusted you. Against my better judgement.”
Smirking, she cocks her head to the side and regards him with a mixture of disdain and amusement.
“You were all cute and tiny and innocent looking. Boy did I learn. Quick.”
“Something tells me you wouldn’t have kept me around if I was TOO cute and innocent. I knew just enough to make you want it, yet still gave you a pretty clean slate to work with. You must be so proud of yourself. Corrupting me like you have. Moulding me into some freak in bed.”
“Babe, you had a freak inside of you, just took good dick to bring it out. You are some of my best work though. You didn’t turn out too bad.”
She gives a derisive snort.
“Aren’t you glad you went along with Nik’s fucked up idea? Was it not the best decision of your life?”
“I don’t know about the best,” she teases, and drops a load of clean wash in his lap. “But you’re on my top five list.”
“Well for what it’s worth, it’s definitely the best decision I ever made. And you have to admit, the whole lack of protection thing? It didn’t turn out too bad.”
“I don’t know about that. She’s turning into quite the hell beast. You know those hellhounds on Supernatural? Millie could be their ruler. In fact, they’d be scared of HER. Although I have figured it out. Why she’s been extra bitchy lately.”
“Please tell me it’s not boys. Bad enough we had one phone here. I don’t want to find out there’s more.”
“It’s not boys. Although…” she drops down onto the couch beside him. “...that will come soon enough. Puberty. It’s puberty.”
“Excuse me?”
“It hasn’t happened yet. The big event. She hasn’t gotten her period.”
“We are NOT having this conversation.”
“As uncomfortable as it makes you, we have to have it. Because it’s going to happen. Soon.”
“She’s eleven.”
“She’ll be twelve in March. I was just shy of twelve when I got mine.”
He turns his attention to the pile of laundry in his lap. “I do NOT want to hear this.”
“I’m just trying to prepare you. The mood swings? The skin breakouts? The fact she’s starting to develop and has already asked me to take her shopping for bras…”
“Don’t. Please don’t. I’m not listening to you. I refuse to listen to you.”
“...means that things are going to happen. Soon. And we need to be prepared. Especially you.”
“Why me? Why do I need to be more prepared than you?”
“Because I’ve had my period for almost thirty years. I’m obviously experienced in these things.”
“And I’ve lived with you for twelve of those thirty years. Who is the one that bears the brunt of the shit storm when you get all mean and moody and shit? Who’s the one that’s been bringing your bitchy ass chocolate and ice cream? Who’s the one that will massage your back and bring you a heating pad when the cramps are bad? Never mind that, who’s had to go to the store and buy you woman stuff?”
“You’ve been very good about it. But in all fairness, if you really think about it? I haven’t had my period that much since we’ve been together. You may have done all those very sweet and amazing things, but you’ve also gotten me pregnant with seven kids. In twelve years.”
“That is a very good point, actually.”
“All I’m saying is that things are going to happen. Soon. And I just want you to be prepared for it. I know it bothers you to think about it. Your baby girl growing up. But she is. Growing up. And she’s doing it very quickly. You need to step up your game and be ready for anything.”
“I really hate you right now.”
“Do you, Tyler? Do you REALLY?”
Leaning into her, he presses a kiss to her temple. “No. Not in the slightest.”
“I just want you to be prepared. In case it happens when I’m not home. So you know what to do.”
“You’re not leaving the house from here on out. Until she DOES get it.”
“You’ll be fine. I’ll make sure everything is in the house that you’ll need in case it does happen. I remember when Riley was going through puberty. My mom was totally useless. It was a disaster when I started mine. She would have been more than willing to just let me bleed all over the place. I had to stuff toilet paper in my underwear and steal money out of her purse so I could go to the store and get necessities.”
He grins. “My wife the felon.”
“So I made sure Riley would never have to go through that kind of humiliation. I made up this basket for her. Pads, tampons, a heating pad, chocolate bars, some pain killers. Everything she’d need. I’ll do that for Millie too. And I’ll put it somewhere where you can find it. So you’re ready if it happens and I’m not home.”
“Do we really have to keep talking about this?”
“Stick your head in the sand all you want, husband. It’s going to happen. Whether you like it or not. I know she’s your little girl. Your miracle baby. But she’s growing up. And it’s happening very fast and there’s nothing we can do to stop it, I’m not exactly happy about it either. This is all happening way too quick for my liking. Where the hell has the last twelve years gone? We’re going to have a teenager. Very soon.”
“Not to make things worse, but we’re going to have three in the house in just over two years.”
“You’re not helping. Seriously though. Where has that time gone? Some days it feels like we just met, don’t you think?”
“Now that I think about it, there are days you drive me as fucking nuts as you did that that first day in Dhaka.”
“Fuck you! I was cute and charming.”
“You were a pain in my ass.”
“But I was a CUTE pain in your ass. You can’t deny that.”
“You were something alright.”
“Look, just because you were having the feels for me and didn’t know how to handle it, that’s not my fault. And for the record, I would have been able to handle myself. In the market. If things went south.”
“Sure you would have. You would have been just fine. All five foot nothing and a hundred pounds of you.”
“Good things come in small packages. You didn’t need to watch me that closely.”
“Yes. I did. I very much did. You know what would have happened if Asif’s thugs got a hold of you? The end result would not have been pretty.”
“I think you use that as an excuse. I think you just wanted me that close because you WERE having feels for me.”
“I am neither going to admit OR deny that.”
“You don’t have to. I’ve caught on to you. You can keep lying to yourself about your motives back then, but I know what you were up to. And it’s very sweet. That you wanted to keep me safe and sound because you had feels for me.”
“Do you want me to be totally honest?”
“Always.”
“I really just wanted to keep you close so I could look at your ass. And because I was hoping to get laid. I needed you to be safe and in one piece for that to happen.”
She stares at him pointedly.
“I’m just saying. You want honesty? There’s your honesty. You were cute and had a wicked body and I was horny as fuck and wanted you to fix that. And boy, did you ever fix it.”
“And I'm still fixing it. Twelve and a half years later. You lucky bastard.”
“I am lucky.” A slow smile spreads across his face. “Very lucky.”
“It’s weird.” She turns her attention back to folding the laundry at her feet. “Sometimes it DOES seem like it was just yesterday. Where DID the time go? How did we end up old enough to have a pre-teen? I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel old enough for that.”
“The way my body is? I feel old enough to have a kid in college, never mind becoming a teenager. Which leads me to the other bad news.”
“Oh God…” Esme groans. “...there’s more?”
“These?” He reaches into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a pair of reading glasses. “Don’t do shit anymore. I can see up close, but I can’t see fuck all far away. You know what that means?”
“Your eyesight is shit. Which I’ve been telling you for the last three years. Is it just your right eye?”
“That one’s worse.” It’s a mixture of things. The knife that Nathan had dug into his face -the sharp blade cutting deep and causing problems with the surrounding nerves- and the multitude of concussions suffered over the years. The last one five years ago had been the tipping point; causing permanent and extensive damage to the optic nerve. “ But they’re both shit.”
“When we get home you’ll have to call and schedule an eye appointment. And while you’re at it, you should call and get that hearing test done.”
“I don’t need one done. I know my hearing is fucked.”
“Fucked or not, you need one. So you know what you’re dealing with. You might need a hearing aid.”
“That’s a huge ‘fuck no’ from me.”
“I know it makes you feel old; glasses and hearing aids and arthritis and all the aches and pains. But you ARE getting close to fifty. And you’ve had a hard life. There’s been a lot of damage done. Isn’t it better to get on top of those things? So they don’t get worse? I just want you to have a good life. I want you to be around for a long while. And if that means you have to wear glasses on a permanent basis and get a hearing aid…”
“I’m sorry. Are you talking? I couldn’t hear you. It’s my old age.”
“It’s not old age. You’re just an asshole. Always have been, always will be. But you’re my asshole and I want to keep you around. And I know YOU want to stick around. Especially for your kids. So do it for them? Get your eyes and your hearing tested. Please? Because we love you, you insufferable, stubborn pain in my ass. And us loving you? That’s not going to change because you need help hearing and seeing.”
“I’ll be ugly as fuck. If I have to wear glasses all the time.”
“It’s impossible for you to be ugly. In fact…” she plucks the glasses from his hand and slips them onto his face. “...I think you’re quite sexy in them.”
“You know, you’re not half bad looking when I can actually see.”
She laughs and shoves him back against the couch. “You’re a total dick.”
“Fuck you, you love me.”
“I do. Despite my better judgement and the warnings from friends and family.”
Smirking, he lays a hand on the back of her head and pulls her into him; speaking with the tips of their noses pressed together and lips mere inches apart. “Why are you so mean to me? You’re always so mean.”
“I know. You have it so rough. I am the worst wife EVER. I’m horrible. Just horrible. How you put up with me defies all logic.”
“It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it. It’s my cross to bear.”
“You poor bastard,” she laughs, a palm coming to rest on the side of his face when he kisses her. Long and slow and sweet, followed by a series of small pecks and then concluded with the press of his lips against her forehead; her eyes fluttering closed and a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. It’s always been one of her favorite things; those feathery kisses placed on her brow and the weight of his hand on the back of her neck and the warmth of his body so close to hers. It’s sweet and it’s pure; intimacy at its most basic and innocent of levels. And her smile widens when a calloused fingertip softly traces the slope of her nose and his lips press against the tip. “You and your freckles.”
“Well technically, they’re YOUR freckles.”
“You’re staring at them aren’t you.”
“Not staring. Admiring.”
“Admiring what? They’re ugly.”
“They’re adorable. And you’re beautiful.” He presses a kiss to each corner of her mouth, hand smoothing wayward strands of hair away from the sides of her face and neck.
Her eyes flutter open. “Why do you look at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like THAT. How you’re looking at me right now. Just so...I don’t know...I don’t know how to describe it. But you always do it. Your face changes. So does the colour of your eyes. It’s like you’re looking at me for the very first time all over again. Even though you’ve seen me nearly every day for the last twelve and a half years. Yet you still do it. Look at me like that. Like I’m the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen.”
“Maybe you are. Maybe to me you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Maybe all I see is you. Maybe because everything that is amazing and perfect in my life is because of you. All this? A place like this? My kids? Us? None of that would exist if it wasn’t for you. If you hadn’t stuck around on that bridge…”
“But I did. I DID stick around. And if it happened a thousand times, I would make the exact same decision. No hesitations. I did the right thing. No one can ever tell me different.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you put your ass on the line for a guy that was a complete and utter fucking mess.”
“Well I guess I just saw the potential,” she chides, and then kisses him; fingernails lightly scraping along the bottom of his hairline “You know what I really want right now?”
“I’m hoping you’re going to say sex, but I have a sneaky feeling that’s not it.”
“Leftover Chinese food. And my last chocolate croissant.”
“And then sex?”
Laying a hand on the side of his head, she pulls him closer; placing a series of feathery kisses along his jaw and then grinning against his ear. “Maybe.”
*****
An hour later they sit in the sunroom; the remnants of a late night meal on the coffee table, the area illuminated by strings of multi-colored Christmas lights lining each pane of glass and the soft glow given off by the space heater. It’s the kind of quiet and relaxation that is extremely rare to find especially during the holiday season; one that comes only when everything on your ‘to do list’ has been checked off. It’s a relief to have it all done; every last minute gift snagged, almost all the wrapping relegated to a very accommodating and willing Desi, fridges and freezers stocked and the house fully decorated both inside and out.
It had been a learning process; getting comfortable with celebrating the season while still harbouring painful childhood trauma and the memories of six Christmases with his first child. But Esme had made it easier; never pushing him to ‘get into the spirit’ and knowing what lines shouldn’t be crossing and learning to step back when the trauma of the past would begin to fester. Seeing her enjoyment of the holiday had helped; the excitement she shows over something as simple as a walk or a drive to look at other peoples’ lights, the joy she gets in buying things for the kids and keeping the magic alive and seeing their faces light up on Christmas morning. And he’d come around a little bit at a time; a distaste for the holiday becoming more bearable as the years went on and eventually being replaced with actual enjoyment and appreciation. And now that the hard work is done, it’s time to relish in accomplishment; a quiet house and the ambiance and the press of her head against his chest and the feel of her hair as it slowly slips through his fingers. He’d gladly stay there all the night; away from the giggles and chatter that drift down from their daughter’s room, lulled to sleep by the familiar weight of his wife’s body against his and the warmth that radiates from her. Nothing sexual about it; just quiet, soft intimacy in its purest form.
His eyes flicker open when he feels her move away; head lifting from the back of the couch and as her hair slips from between his fingers. “You okay?”
She gives a sheepish, almost nervous smile. “We need to talk.”
“So no, you’re not.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m okay.”
“Babe, nothing good ever comes after ‘we need to talk’.”
“Everything’s fine. The kids are good, I’m good, we’re good. Just something has been eating at me all day and I wasn’t even going to bring it up but I just know it’s going to keep me up all night if I don’t get it out.”
“How bad is this thing that’s been eating at you? Because the way you said ‘we need to talk’...”
“It’s not bad. On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, it’s maybe a three. A four. At the most.”
“Okay. What is it? What’s going on?”
“Before I tell you…” she turns her body to face him. “.... there’s some other things I need to say. First, I want you to promise you won’t get upset.”
“It’s obviously worse than a four if you think it’s going to upset me. It takes a lot; for you to piss me off.”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘pissing you off’. Just I can totally see why you might take it the wrong way and get defensive. And there’s no reason for you to be. Defensive.”
“It’s not about the job is it? Because we already talked about that and I already said I would stay home. Or at least if I did have to go somewhere, I’d stay completely behind the scenes. So if it’s about that…”
“It’s not about the job. That’s water under the bridge. We dealt with it. And may I add, we dealt with that very well. EXTREMELY well. You didn’t get worked up and we didn’t fight and that’s a big thing for us. A huge thing. And that’s a REALLY nice change; it shows we’re a lot stronger now.”
“So if it’s not about the job…”
“I need you to promise. That you won’t get upset. That you won’t get defensive even though it might seem like you need to be.”
“I promise. I’ll keep my shit together.”
“Second, I need you to know that I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And you ARE the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Hands down. You’re an amazing husband and an even more amazing father and I couldn’t have asked for a better dad for my kids. And I appreciate you so much. Everything you do for us. For our family. How you care for us and provide for us and…”
“As nice as it is to hear all this, you’re rambling. And while I normally find that cute, it’s actually really unnerving right now. So maybe just spit it out? What’s going on? Why are you so edge? What’s got you all worked up?”
“Okay. I’m just going to ask and hope for the best. Just remember, there’s no reason to get defensive and I’m NOT accusing you of anything. It might seem like I am, but I’m not. I promise.”
“Are you going to get it out sometime today or…?”
“How friendly were you? To that neighbour the other day?”
“What neighbour?”
“The new one. The single mom. At the park. Natalie. The tall blond who looks like Sephora threw up on her face? Remember her?”
“What about her?”
“How friendly WERE you with her?”
He can’t help but laugh. “What?”
“You said you talked to her. What did you talk about?”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“There’s a reason I’m asking. I’m not just asking to ask. I knew you met her and I know you talked to her and…”
“And what? What ARE you trying to ask? Because you said I shouldn’t get defensive and it seems like maybe I should. ARE you accusing me of something?”
“No. I’m not. I am not accusing of anything. I know you, Tyler. I know your heart. I know you love me and that you’d never, EVER cheat on me. So I am not accusing you of that. I never would.”
“So then what the fuck? What do you mean how friendly was I? When have you known me to be friendly with ANYONE? Especially people I don’t know. Are you suggesting I did something? Because that is totally it, Esme. I fucked her...in the dead of winter...in public...with my son twenty feet away. Is that what you WANT to hear?”
“No! God no. And that’s not what I’m suggesting at all. I just want to know. What you talked to her about. That’s it.”
“Why? What the hell does it matter? You’re always on my ass about how I should be more social and make an effort to meet people. Now all of a sudden you’re changing your mind? ‘Cause you’re worried about some neighbour? What the hell…?”
“Hear me out, please,” she begs, and takes both of his hands in hers. “This isn’t about me being neurotic and my self esteem issues and my weirdness about other women.”
“Seriously? Because that’s EXACTLY what this is about. This happens every fucking time we go somewhere. You get all worked up because you think women are paying attention to me. Because you think all these housewives and mothers are so thirsty they’d actually give a fuck about me. You think way too highly of me.”
“Okay, first off, no I don’t. You happen to be incredibly attractive. The blue eyes? The smile? The body? The whole vibe you’ve got going on? The resting bitch face? The tattoos and the scars and the whole intimidation factor? It’s very sexy. Whether you realize it or not. And I know you can’t help it. You’re just naturally beautiful. I’m not blaming you for that. But I do have a reason. For being the way I am. For having the issues I do.”
“Yeah, your brain is fucked up. Just as much as mine is.”
“You may not see it...all the women that check you out and thirst over you...but I do. All the time. But we’re not talking about the soccer park or the school yard. We’re talking about the park. And Natalie. The pretty single mom.”
“She’s not pretty. I don’t think she’s pretty.”
“Are you blind? You must be. Your eyes must be worse than my thought.”
“She’s not pretty. Not to me. She’s not my type.”
“You don’t have a type. In fact, your type used to be anything that walked with a wiggle.”
“I’ve had a type for the last twelve and a half years. If you want to call it having a ‘type’. You. You’re the only one that matters to me. You’re the only woman that I give a shit about. You might as well be the only one that exists on the entire fucking planet. All I want is you. That’s it. So what the fuck…?”
“She showed up here today. Asking for you.”
“Who did?”
Esme sighs in exasperation. “Natalie. The neighbour.”
“She came here?”
“And asked for you. She came calling on another woman’s husband. You don’t find that at least a little bit strange? That she would do that? That she would show up on our doorstep looking for you? You don’t find that even a little weird?”
“I find it a lot weird. I don’t know why she’d come here. I wasn’t THAT nice. It was small talk. Nothing more than that. I was my usual pleasant self.”
“Well, you certainly made an impression on her. Enough that she felt comfortable coming here. And talking to your daughter AND your wife. Let me just say, her social etiquette needs some work. She’s not as charming and witty as she thinks she is. Her people skills are a tad rusty.”
“What did she want?”
“To talk to you. To give you her cookie.”
He chuckles. “Is that a code language for…?”
“No. She literally brought you cookies. That she made for you.”
“What kind of cookies?”
Esme’s eyes narrow.
“I’m kidding. That was a joke. Probably not the best time to make one, mind you.”
“Oatmeal raisin if you need to know ALL the details.”
“Worst cookie EVER. You don’t know betrayal until you bite into one thinking it’s chocolate chip and you find out it’s THAT.”
“I’m pretty sure she was also offering up HER cookie. On a silver platter.”
“And if she was? Who the fuck cares? I don’t want anything from her. I talked to her at the park. Welcomed her to the neighbourhood. That was it. Everything else is on her. If she read too much into it, that’s her problem. Not mine. I made small talk and that was it. And you know how much I hate small talk.”
“I know YOU didn’t do anything. I know you. I know who you are and what you’re like. I wasn’t suggesting that you made a move on her or led her on or anything like that. You know that, right? That I’m not accusing you of anything?”
“I know you’re not. But it does seem like you are.”
“I know. And I don’t mean for it to sound that way. It just upset me. Her showing up here. Asking for you. That is so many shades of wrong. Why would someone do that?”
“Why would a man follow someone’s wife home from the post office? Someone’s noticeably pregnant wife.”
“That’s NOT the same thing.”
“You’re right. It’s not. It’s worse. You were pregnant with my kid. You told him you were married. And he still followed you home.”
“And you took care of it. You scared the shit out of him. Knocked him on his ass. All’s well that ends well.”
“Doesn’t mean I liked it. The fact some fucking asshole followed my wife home. You say I don’t notice things? How come you never notice all the men that pay attention to you? I notice it. Why don’t you?”
“It doesn’t happen that often.”
“It happens all the fucking time. And some of them are actually brave enough to be right out there with it. That takes a lot of balls; being that bold in front of someone’s husband. You think I like THAT? When men check you out?”
“You never say anything. You never act like it’s bothering you. If it does, why don’t you just say something?”
“Because I trust you. Because I’m secure. When it comes to knowing how you feel about me. I don’t see these guys as competition. A pain in the ass. But not competition.”
“That’s because they’re not. I don’t give a shit about any of them. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I am perfectly happy with you. I love the way things are. With you. None of them matter to me.”
“Then why does it bother you what other women do? Why does it bother you so much? You don’t trust me?”
“What? No. I do. I DO trust you. You are not the problem. They are.”
“That doesn’t make ANY sense. How can they be a problem when I won’t let them be? I don’t give a fuck about any of them. How can they cause issues if I won’t let them? What do you think they’re going to do, Me? You can’t steal someone away unless they WANT to be. And you know what? As much as you drive me fucking insane, I am perfectly happy where I am. With who I have.”
“You don’t know what it’s like. Being around that. Those women. You don’t…”
“I DO know what it’s like. Guys check you out all the time. Do you see me going all neurotic about it?”
“Well, being neurotic IS my thing,” she sheepishly admits.
“This needs to stop. You being like this. It has been twelve and a half years of this, Me. And it’s tiring. I love you. And I have to tell you until my very last breath that I love you and I don’t want anyone else, I’ll do it. But it doesn’t mean it it doesn’t grate on my fucking nerves.”
“You knew I was like this. You knew my issues. Going into things. If they pissed you off THAT bad…”
“They don’t piss me off. Is it annoying, yes? Can I live with it? Also a yes. I will put up with it. Until my dying day. Because I love you. But I would give anything to put an end to it.”
“I can’t help it. Being like this. I’m not you, Tyler. You’re secure and you’re confident and you’re able to just ignore other men.”
“Because I trust you.”
“And I trust YOU. You are NOT the problem. And I know it doesn’t make any sense to you. Me worrying about other women when I know for a fact you’d never cheat on me. But I do. Worry about them.”
“Why? Tell me why you worry about them? What do you think they’re going to do, Esme? Tell me. What do you think is going to happen?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“That is NOT an acceptable answer for anyone over six. Try again.”
“I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what I’m thinking. But you don’t hear what they say. The women at the soccer park on the school yard. I do. I hear it. I hear them talking about how ugly and plain and boring looking I am and how they can’t understand why someone like you would be with someone like me,” she struggles to hold back a threatening flood of tears. “They don’t hide it, Tyler. They don’t talk about these things in secret. They make sure I hear it. And you know what? It hurts. A lot. And if I tell you something hurts me, you don’t have the right to tell me it doesn’t.”
“I’m not doing that, babe. I’m not saying it shouldn’t hurt you. And I’m sorry. That it does. That you hear stuff like that.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. You can’t help what they say.”
“Do you want me to say something? To them? The next time I pick the kids up? Because I will. I’m not shy when it comes to telling people off. You know that. And when it comes to protecting you…”
“It would just make things worse. I can just hear them now. Talking about what a cry baby I am and how you deserve a real woman. Don’t say anything. It’ll just set them off. Things are bad enough as they are.”
“Why don’t you tell them to fuck off? You usually don’t back away from shit like that.”
“Because that’s our kids’ school and we’ve been on the principal’s shit list before and I don’t want to make things hard on our kids. But it does bother me. Hearing that stuff. And it DOES hurt.”
“But it shouldn’t. That’s what I’m saying. Just let go in one ear and out the other. Who gives a fuck what they think? What does it matter? I love you. I have always loved you. I always WILL love you. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Isn’t that enough? What I think? Why isn’t that enough?”
“I don’t know. I want it to be. And I know it should be. I know you love me. I’ve never doubted that. Not even during those six months. Even then, I knew you did. You just needed to get your shit together. I don’t know why it bothers me so much. I don’t why I’m like this. Why I can’t get past it. I think I’m getting better and then something happens and it’s back to square one.”
“Your mom fucked you up. So did Mark. You went through a lot of shit. Especially with him. But I’m not Mark, Esme.”
“I know. I know you’re not.”
“Do you? Because sometimes I’m not sure you do.”
The tears come freely now; body trembling with the force of the emotions that accompany them. And he places a hand on the back of her neck and pulls her into him; a forearm across the small of her back as her body presses tightly against his and her arms immediately circle his neck.
“I’m sorry,” she sobs against his shoulder. “I never meant to make you feel that way. Like I was comparing you to him.”
“I know.” One hand repeatedly strokes his hair, the other settling at the small of her back. “I know you didn’t.”
“Because you’re NOT him. You’re nothing like him. And I’ve never thought you are. I’m sorry, Tyler. For making you that feel that way. I never meant it.”
“I know you didn’t. It’s okay, Me. He fucked you up. Badly. I’m just the guy that came after. The one that has to try and clean up his mess. And if it takes the rest of my life to do that? Then I’ll deal with it. I can’t make it better. I can’t take it all away; make it like it never happened. I wish I could.”
“I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to be crazy and neurotic and a freaking mess.”
“Well if it’s any consolation, you’re a beautiful mess.”
She manages a small laugh. “I don’t know what to do. To make this better. To make ME better. And it’s not fair to you. To have to deal with this shit.”
“I’ve brought more shit to the table than you have. And you’ve always dealt with it. I figure it’s the least I can do. Put up with your crap.”
“I don’t want to be like this. I can’t live like this for the rest of my life. I just can’t. But I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix me. And it shouldn’t be up to you to do it.”
“You’re my wife. You’re the mother of my kids. I love you. It’s what we do. Help each other. Fix one another. You’re not in this by yourself.” He presses a kiss to her temple and tightens his hold on her. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out. We’ll get you past all this.”
“What if we can’t? What if it CAN’T be fixed?”
“Then we live it. I spent the rest of my life constantly reassuring you that I’m not going anywhere. That I love you and think you’re the most beautiful in the world. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. I’ll take one for the team.”
“You’re so generous,” she chides. “Always so willing to sacrifice yourself.”
“Well, we do crazy shit for love. When we get home, you should go and talk to Doctor Klein. Tell him what’s going on. How you’ve been feeling. If anyone can figure shit out, it’s him.”
“You’ll come with me, right? I think you should. Come with me.”
“You know I will. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
She pulls away to look at him, sitting back at her heels. “Nothing?”
“Nothing,” he declares, and lays his hands on the sides of her face and uses his thumbs to wipe away the lingering tears.
“I know all snotty nose and puffy eyed isn’t my best look, but maybe we could have sex now?”
He grins. “Maybe. Would it make you feel better?”
She nods. “Being worshipped ALWAYS makes me feel better.”
“What can I say? I’m always willing to cheer you up. Besides, your body’s a temple, babe. It deserves to be worshipped.”
“It’s a temple, alright. Ancient and crumbling. Probably haunted.”
“It’s beautiful,” his hands move to the front of the plaid shirt she wears; enormous and baggy on her tiny frame. “And sexy.”
“Even after seven kids?”
His fingers tend to opening the buttons on the shirt. “ESPECIALLY after seven kids.”
“You always have the right thing to say. Your sweet talking is improving.”
“I thought you preferred dirty talk?”
“I do. Dirty talk is my favourite. Especially YOUR dirty talk. That voice? That accent? I’m wet just thinking about it.”
“Yeah?” With a playful smirk, he forcibly shoves her onto her back; a palm on either side of her head as outstretched arms brace his much heavier and bulkier frame. “In that case, shut up and let me fuck you.”
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I was talking to Sarah yesterday and I had a revelation I think is worth sharing.
Let’s begin at the beginning. About a month ago, Instapundit posted this.
Now, I’ve been thinking of the rise and fall of civilizations lately. I can’t think why it’s been on my mind. It’s a tale as old as time—a civilization emerges, establishes a new worthwhile order, the good things brought forth by said order soften up the people maintaining it, the softening turns to decadence, and the decadence gives way to the barbarians, who clean the slate. Where would you say things are lately?
…
In short—the federal government of the United States of America has become impotent at almost all good things.
Expanded out—There is no start to its talents. It cannot maintain its borders. Since the “election” it doesn’t even try. No surprise there. It cannot maintain friendly relationships with allies—as our recent screwing of Britain on our way out of Afghanistan shows. The “leader” of the “free world” could not be bothered to pick up the phone for our closest ally. Speaking of Afghanistan, it can’t win a war. It can’t even lose gracefully. In fact it fucked up leaving so badly some people are entertaining that it intended to fuck it up, because how the fuck does somebody above the age of six not notice that pulling the military out first and the civilians out second is not even a remotely workable strategy? Resulting in leaving millions of dollars of equipment—and—excuse me, what? Millions of dollars of dollars in the desert? Fantastic.
It makes self sabotaging and idiotic choices to stymie its own domestic oil industry, while accepting a pipeline not from Canada, but one that’s a joint Russian-German venture instead. Which means the problem, contrary to any environmentalist whining, isn’t the pipeline—it’s the pipeline with a friendly country. Big surprise— its only true interest in the environment lies in international agreements that hamstring us while doing nothing to China, the world’s largest polluter. It either can’t be trusted on energy production and the environment, or is trying to get it wrong.
It can’t manage its economy. What could have been a “V” shaped recovery has been turned into an “L” shaped one. What could be contributing? Paying people to do nothing? Rampant inflation? Meanwhile all the dumbasses running the country can think of is spending several billion more dollars that don’t exist. The country has infrastructure problems for a fact, but they’ll only acknowledge that to the extent of cynically plastering the word on an “infrastructure” bill which is in fact just a far Left wishlist that largely ignores actual infrastructure, in the hopes people will be dumb enough to support it because it has the right label.
And on.
And on.
And on.
What aptitudes does it have besides taking money, trampling civil liberties, and ignoring constitutional laws at gunpoint? News flash, dummies: We don’t need peaceful protestors incarcerated without a trial. We don’t need the weight of the federal government turned to the problem of violating states rights because Texas passed a law Biden doesn’t like. We need military egresses that look like they weren’t planned by Bozo the clown and an economic plan better than something China would design for us as an attempt to permanently sink the country. Is there anyone at all in DC who can provide that? If not, is there anything useful they can do? I’ll wait.
…
This is what decadence looks like. When the government stops even attempting competence because nothing and nobody that currently exists can replace or displace them so who cares about results? When comfort and plenty have become so common, been taken for granted for so long, that the question of utility or even basic sanity isn’t even distantly considered. When it’s assumed that self-harming policies that will obviously damage the country won’t really matter because nobody has ever known a world without America and fundamentally has no idea how the present day came to be. When the country’s most educated start chasing bizarre and unimaginably stupid ideas on economics that boil down to “inflation won’t happen if you double the monetary supply by printing money, if only you just believe hard enough”. In fact, when education stops being a means to greater insight, more useful abilities, and a better life, and becomes a cult devoted to the kind of idiocy that can survive only with strenuous censorship, the tenets of the cult being treated by the indoctrinated as a collection of sacred mysteries and deeply-thought paradoxes— while to those not similarly trained it is self-obviously a collection of contradictory and self-serving lies.
Verily, decadence is here. We can infer that what comes next is the barbarians. And we have options. Mexican illegals? A heady mixture of poverty-stricken Marxists who have never known a system that wasn’t corrupt, functionally lawless, and devoted to the tenets of voting oneself rich; and outright criminals with lives like “a demon’s resumé”? Perhaps radical Muslims? By sheer numbers worldwide they’re the most likely option. The Taliban just got a huge infusion of cash and a big boost in morale. In a few short days we’ll know whether they’ve arranged a thank you gift for Zho Bi-Xen and his kleptocrat marching band to commemorate his intended pull-out date. But even if, and God I hope, they have not, we can expect an uptick in terrorism and quite shortly. Or perhaps China? The Middle Kingdom would laugh at being called barbarians, but I call genocidal communists like I see them. Mao was morally three steps below a pig and Xi has enough power to aspire to greater depths. As is I wouldn’t dream of feeding a pig Mu Shu Xi due to the great risk of poisoning the pig.
But there is a barbarian group not considered. Us.
Hang on. Before you balk, listen. Look again at what these idiots are selling as the fruits of civilization. Defenses of pedophilia and urinals as art. And more, too—sterilization and disfigurement of teenagers in the form of sex changes. Black supremacy as a panacea to made up threats of white supremacy. Books nobody reads, movies nobody watches, paintings that exist only to launder money—even the ones not made by Hunter Biden.
What good person would not be proud to be considered a barbarian by these miserable, over-decorated Faberge people? I’d be mortified if they agreed with me! So they think I’m a sexist or a racist or whatever. Fine. They do not use these words to mean the same things I mean, so it’s a pointless argument, and they are now officially beneath my explaining myself to them. When the people who are calling me names are so morally opaque that the Taliban can make devastating critiques of them just by referencing the foundational works of their own gender studies programs, I’m done caring about the names. Fine. I’m what you think is a racist. I’m what you think is a sexist. But you think a lot of very stupid things, and as the curtain continues to draw back on the carnival of madness that’s been behind the scenes the entire time it’s occurring to me that what you think and reality overlap so seldom that the only time not to ignore you is when I can ridicule you. If that is your civilization, someone hand me a pointy horned helmet.
…
Yes, this is a moment of peril, but also opportunity. See in your country what every hostile group listed above sees in it—the makings of great civilization, along other, less stupid lines. All of it guarded by weak, fat, stupid people with no will and no self-belief. Take that mindset and go forth.
Get involved in your local systems. There is an old prayer for God to make ones enemies ridiculous. Congratulations to whomever was still praying it. Your prayers have been answered. Will you tell me that you cannot defeat these people? People who lose casual debates to terrorists not on principle but on basic facts?
…
You can’t reason with them so don’t bother. Recent events have made it clear you may as well try to talk sense into a three-day-old mackerel. Just confront them with their own stupidity so that people who see the inevitable video understand what this is about, and don’t feel that you are too good to shout them out of the room. You’re the barbarian, remember? Not like the nice civilized people with their gender-queer Tik-Tokers pushing vaccine propaganda. That means you’re excused from conversations with morons. Don’t bother trying to find common ground. Look at where they’re standing! Do you want to try to find the midpoint between that and reality? Silly. Pointless. Send them back to their walled online gardens to whine to their equally stupid friends about the barbarians.
Can we take it back from the ground up? I don’t know. But hey, it’s got to be worth a shot. Join the fun! Find some friends and locate a low-hanging political event to raid. When was the last time you went to a town hall for your town? Isn’t just a part of you curious to know whether your local county commissioner starts by declaring her pronouns? Wouldn’t it be wonderful to see someone like that made very uncomfortable? You can make that happen. You can probably do it within the next month. Bring a few friends! Or a few dozen. Some of the people reading this probably were afraid to do that kind of thing for fear of losing their job. The Biden economy might have freed up some of your time. What have you got to lose now? More importantly, the way things are going, are you going to lose it anyway if things continue as they are? Think on it.
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Burning Scars part IV
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Masterlist
I’ve been watching haikyuu and Nishinoya is so cute :(((
This chapter is going to fill in pretty much EVERYTHING related to Y/n’s past. also i feel like this shorter than my other chapters idk
Summary: Y/n, a werewolf from a hidden village, comes across Zuko and Iroh after being exiled. How has fate intertwined the wolf into the avatar's destiny?
*****This chapter takes place on Season 2 Episode 11*****
___
“Thank you,” Y/n said as she accepted the cup of tea from Mushi.
The boys were surprisingly welcoming to her. Lee had begun to ask questions as soon as she came up to them, but his uncle had told him to stop and let her speak. He set up a pot of tea and had now given some to the young teens.
All throughout the wait for the drink, Y/n’s mind was racing. Where does she start? How much does she tell them? The girl desperately wanted to come clean, but her loyalty to her pack deterred her. However, she knew that she had no obligations anymore, so why was she still so stuck on them?
Mushi took the spot next to Lee and quietly sipped his drink. His eyes weren’t on her, but she could feel that his desire for answers was just as strong as Lee’s.
She took a deep breath and started her story.
“So I’m a- uh- werewolf.”
Silence.
The girl knew that she probably should’ve continued from there, but she couldn’t help but wait for their reactions. Or rather, lack thereof.
Y/n didn’t want to look up at their faces. If she did, she knew that their facial expressions would cause her to assume things and she didn’t want to guess their emotions; if they felt something, then they would need to say it.
“Oh, well, we know that much!” The uncle laughed lightly, breaking the obvious tension.
“But Uncle, I thought you said they were only myths; fiction.” Lee questioned.
“What more proof do you need? She’s a living, breathing piece of evidence!”
The teen nodded his head as he thought about that logic. Y/n assumed that it would be hard for him to process; just yesterday he had heard the story and now there she was, telling him that it wasn’t a myth, it was completely real and in front of him.
“So, are you the only one? Or are there more?” Lee thought for a moment. “Wait, no, you mentioned a town before; there’s a whole village of werewolves?!”
I have no obligations toward my pack. I have no obligations toward my pack. I have no obligations toward my pack.
“Yes,” she said confidently. It was about time that she went past her fear of her pack. They could no longer control her, she was her own person who could make her own decisions.
But they’re your family.
Y/n shook the thought out of her head. Family doesn’t treat family that way.
“Don’t ask me where they live or anything, because I won’t speak it.” Y/n succumbed to her guilty side slightly, hoping it would soothe her small feelings of regret.
“We won’t, we promise,” Mushi said while sending a stern stare toward Lee. The boy nodded his head once again.
Lee continued with his questions, though. “Why aren’t you with them then? You came to us two days ago, alone. Did something happen?”
Why does he ask so many questions?
She supposed that if she wanted to maintain their trust, she would have to wipe the slate clean; no more lies and no more hiding. They already knew that her kind existed, so there was no way that she would let them leave her behind.
“In my pack, there’s a rite of passage that we must do when we turn 16...”
___
This was it. The day that everyone in the pack was waiting for.
The L/n children’s Days of Trials.
The morning had started wildly; their mom had helped clean the fur of all five of her “pups” while they watched decorations and food being prepared from afar. The village was quite small and had wooden huts for each family. Each one had a large leaf door that slid close for privacy; they had evolved a lot since their original days. Almost everyone in the pack was helping set up, except for the male Alpha.
That man just so happened to be their father; the exact reason why everyone was making such a big fuss over today. The Alpha’s children were going to be doing their trials to prove their worth to the pack. Some of the other wolves were excited and curious to see how the days would pan out; recently, there had been a spike of children who couldn’t complete the tasks assigned.
However, there were many members who didn’t quite care for the right of passages. Every time the children of their leaders undergo the trials, they pass with flying colors. Never has there been a “royal” family child that didn’t meet the standards that were put up.
Half of the workers around were in their human bodies to put up the decor while the other half were using their wolf’s to carry heavy things. It was a beautiful harmony that Y/n enjoyed on the Days of Trials; no one in the pack was looked down on for using their human skins. People would only use what was convenient.
The five teen’s mother changed down to her human form. Her children copied her actions.
Their mother had long, overgrown hair and lively eyes. She was the kindest mother that the kids could ever dream of having. The wrinkles that surrounded her eyes not only showed age, but her strong, wise experience. She was absolutely perfect.
Mother sighed as she looked at each one of her kids in the eyes.
“I want all of you to know that no matter what happens, I am proud of you,” she smiled so sweetly. “You worked so hard to be here and no amount of trials can take that away.”
Just as she said that, someone called for her aid and she had to leave, but not before leaving a kiss on all five of her kid’s foreheads.
Soon, the siblings were left alone.
“I-I don’t know if I can do this,” Fen spoke while trying to even out his erratic breaths. “It just feels so wrong to lie like this.”
Ayano rubbed Fen’s back to try and calm him. Then, Binu spoke up.
“I hate to agree with him, but he’s kinda right. Mom’s worried about our safety while we’re here with a secure plan? It feels sick to let her be so scared.”
Shong crossed his arms with a glare. “Don’t be dumb, guys. Our plan makes it so we all come out alive. If anything, we’re doing her a favor.”
They’re tall brother spoke some truths. The siblings had devised a scheme a long time ago to ensure that each member completed their tasks efficiently and met the bare minimums.
They’re first task would be to go out and hunt a total of three animals before the sun rose to the center of the sky, signaling noon. Y/n and Binu were the best hunter’s of the family; while Y/n took hiding in the shadows easy, Binu was fast enough to outrun any animal. The two would use their skills to help the other’s catch their prey and make it back before their time ended.
Then, their next task would be working as a group to capture something that belonged to an opposite group (sort of like capture the flag). It was meant to see if the group could work together nicely and form a strategy. Luckily for them, Shong was very smart and him with the combination of Ayano would be able to easily make up a plan for any situation.
Lastly, the five siblings would have to fight head on with each other and gain a total of two wins. They weren’t aware of the line up, but the siblings knew that no matter who went up against who, they would stick to the plan.
If they didn’t, then members of their family could be gone forever.
___
“Ahh, I see,” Mushi said once the girl took a pause in her story to drink her tea, “Your plan didn’t work, then?”
Y/n shook her head softly and spoke quietly. “No, no. It did work. We made it past the first two trials so quickly, we almost broke a record.” A frown slowly set upon her face. “It was just at the third trial that things didn’t go as smoothly...”
___
“I think a congratulations is in order!” Ayano yelled as she held her wooden cup up into the air.
Y/n let out a laugh and grabbed her sister’s arm. “We haven’t even finished everything yet. The last Test is tomorrow, so maybe you should get some sleep.”
Her siblings were, to say the least, drunk.
One of them (at this point, Y/n couldn’t remember who) had stolen some liquor and brought it to the brothers and sisters. They all had a couple drinks, but Y/n and Fen seemed to be the only ones smart enough to remember what tomorrow was.
They had finished the first day of the Trials; they had assumed that it would be the hardest due to the randomness of it, but it had seemed fairly easy.
Many say that the Days of Trials were never meant to be hard, they just weeded out the absolute weakest of a bunch. Y/n wasn’t entirely sure how other’s had failed the tasks, but she didn’t like to think much of it.
There were rumors of what had happened to the werewolves that didn’t pass. Some say that they were forced to live in solitude for the rest of their lives... others say that the pack’s fighters chase them down for fun.
It was a little alarming that not even she, daughter of a family who is ranked so high, knew what happened to those poor wolves.
Ayano clumsily transformed into her wolf skin and whined softly. Y/n sighed before looking at Fen.
“You can take care of the other boys, right?”
He gave her a small salute. “Yup, I got it.”
She was about to help her sister out before Fen began to talk again. Y/n turned around to see Binu on the floor, but Shong was no where to be seen.
“Uhh... you wouldn’t happen to know where Shong is, Y/n?”
The girl groaned in exasperation and dropped her sister onto the floor.
Just as the brother and sister were about to leave their hut to search for him, the man in question pushed his way passed the hanging door and paused when he met their stare.
“Dude, we were about to go look for you.” Fen groaned out, then went to the passed out Binu on the floor. “Help me bring him to our room.”
And with that, the two semi-sober siblings completely ignored Shong’s time of leave, despite knowing that no one else in their pack was awake that late into the night.
The next afternoon, the five of them rushed to a big, open center where the rest of the pack was surrounding. Almost everyone was in their wolf skins, so they copied the actions of their fellow members. It was there that the children learned of the order that they were fighting in.
There would be ten matches: each teen going against each of their siblings. A battle would be won once the victor gets their opponent outside of the circle. This trial was supposed to be the easiest for the five brothers and sisters. Emphasis on supposed.
Their fights went semi-smoothly.
At first, it was hard for the wolves to pretend to fight. They attacked each other like it was their dying wish, but in reality it was all a part of their plan.
Just two wins each, that’s all they needed.
By the time seven matches finished, Binu had already received his two wins; the rest of his fights ended with him losing dramatically as if he were in a play. Shong also had his two wins, but he still had to fight two more rounds and give his opponents the victory.
The eighth battle was between Shong and Fen.
Fen only had one win under his belt, which meant that Shong would need to lose. Y/n knew what her tall brother’s tactic was when he need to lose the fight; he would put on a huge show to demonstrate his strength, then would pretend to make a misstep that costs him the win. It was extremely entertaining for the crowd.
The siblings waited on the outskirts of the circle with the rest of the pack. The wolves around them were howling and barking in excitement. It was going to be such an amazing fight; Fen was seen as a weak asset and it seemed like Shong was going to completely destroy him.
The two sisters shared a look that said exactly what they were both thinking: if only the pack knew what was really going to happen.
And with that, the teen’s father let out a bellowing howl; the signal for the battle to begin.
Shong began his usual wolf dance. He skirted around each of Fen’s attacks and landed soft, teasing blows to his brother’s hide. He would only let Fen hit or bite him every once in a while, his only goal being to feed the crowd’s desire for a difficult fight.
‘Okay, this is it.’ Y/n thought to herself, ‘Right about now, Shong should let Fen win.’
Just as the thought crossed her mind, her tall brother stopped his antics. It was a bit too sudden and the crowed around them let out a confused noise. It seemed as though Shong was... looking at someone.
The girl followed his gaze all the way until it landed on their father. From her position, she couldn’t quite see the silent conversation they were having, but it seemed important.
It was then that Fen struck.
He pounced on his brother and shoved him straight out of the circle.
It was silent for a moment, but eventually the noise flew up and cheered for the weaker sibling. It was a true display of power, even of the two hadn’t planned it.
The look on Shong’s face was indescribable. It was a mixture between sad, angry, happy, and... something else. It was like every contradicting emotion was running through the wolf’s system.
‘Why is he acting like that? This loss isn’t any different from the other ones.’
___
“I should’ve seen what was coming next,” Y/n spoke. “With the way he was acting... I just never expected him to be the one that broke all of us apart.”
___
It was the middle of the ninth match.
Shong was up again, for the final time, but was against Ayano.
Now, their sister wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. There were multiple times that she had fought one of the pack members for bullying a sibling (mainly Fen or Y/n). She wasn’t the strongest or the smartest or the fastest, but she made up for her weaknesses with her quick thinking. Her mind connected dots faster than all of her siblings combined and it’s what made her standout. Ayano’s passion and fast brain made her a threat to some of the strategists that lead beside their father.
The duo’s red eyes glared at each other, circling the edges of the ring while they waited for the other to pounce. In this round, Ayano would receive her final win from her brother and complete her trial.
But why was that look still molded into Shong’s face? He had death in his eyes instead of the playfulness that should’ve existed there. Something’s not right.
Y/n desperately wanted to warn her sister, but if she mentioned anything about their plan, then they would all be banished for treason. It was best to just let it all play out.
Maybe their brother just got really good at acting.
Shong then jumped at Ayano, but the girl dodged it with milliseconds to spare. The brother almost slid out of the circle with the velocity of his jump, but slowed down in time. They both growled at each other.
The same actions repeated itself for the next couple of minutes; one would jump and the other would dodge. It really seemed like they were trying to kill the other, even with Y/n knowing who was supposed to win. It was terrifying.
The brother and sister looked as though they were evenly matched. They predicted the other’s movements like it was their own; they danced as if they had practiced this for hours.
However, the two weren’t the same. Shong was strong and had a everlasting stamina. Ayano didn’t.
The entire crowd could see that Ayano was growing tired. Her movements were turning sluggish and it was taking her longer and longer to dodge any attacks.
Why isn’t Shong letting her win yet?
By now, Shong should’ve done his “misstep” and lost, but he seemed so persistent on his jumps.
Then, as some twisted, sick peice of fate, their brother pounced and Ayano was too exhausted to move out of the way. She let him drag her out of the ring, her body falling limp.
Shong had one, which meant he got three wins; effectively stealing it from Ayano.
That meant that in the last round of Y/n vs Ayano, one sister would be met with the doom of banishment for the rest of their lives.
___
“And so we fought. I let her win. End of story.”
Y/n set down her empty tea cup and looked at the two men in front of her. They were so invested in her story that they had forgotten about their own drinks. Steam and heat no longer rose from the small cups, it instead being a cold, lifeless collection of flavored water.
“Is that- Is she the reason you got hurt?” Lee asked, his voice hoarse from not speaking for a while.
“Uhh, yeah.” She wrung her hands. “Its a rule in my pack: when someone’s banished, they have to have something like that visible on them, so they can never come back. It was only a coincidence that my sister was the one that gave it to me.”
“I am so sorry you had to go through that, Y/n,” Mushi whispered with a frown set on his face. The girl shrugged her shoulders in response.
“I mean, it’s better that it was me and not her. Her navigation skills are subpar, so she would’ve been so lost out here,” she forced a laugh.
Mushi just his head in disbelief while Lee stared at the ground, lost in thought. It made her wonder what was going on in that head of his.
Y/n really hoped that she had made the right decision by telling them the truth. It’s not like anyone would believe these two random travelers if they ever mentioned it. But still, the thought of them telling a town and having her pack torn apart made her shudder.
Lee stood up suddenly.
It surprised the two other people, but they quickly regained their focus as the teen began to speak.
“I think you should stay with us, like for the long run,” he said confidently. “You could help us out a lot, and I think that we could help you.”
“Okay!” She stood up excitedly as well. This was the exact thing that she had been hoping for.
“And, of course, Lee,” Mushi interrupted, “shouldn’t that mean that we tell her the truth about us as well?”
Y/n was almost certain that whatever secret they had couldn’t be as bad as hiding being a werewolf.
The boy puffed out his chest and nodded his head.
“My real name is Prince Zuko and this is my Uncle, General Iroh. We are both from the fire nation.”
Silence.
There were many things running through the girl’s head, but the main one being Oh, so that’s why Mushi yelled out Zuko yesterday!
It took her a moment, but eventually she found something to say.
“You’re a prince? Should I bow or something?”
Le- or- Zuko deflated slightly at her words.
“Is that really all that you have to say?”
Iroh let out a hearty laugh at his nephew’s reaction. He quickly picked up their tea pot and cups while the two teens talked.
“And that ‘fire nation’ stuff, does that have to do with that magic thing you did yesterday?” The girl asked with a tilt of her head. This cause him to shrink even more.
“Y-you mean my bending?”
“Bending? What is tha-”
The girl paused as her ears caught a soft thumping sound; almost identical to the one that awoke her that morning.
Those people must be coming back.
She quickly warned the duo and helped them pack up their things. Just as the noise grew closer and closer, the three of them jumped on their ostrich-horses (in the same positions as they had the day before) and rode out before the group of men could find them again.
Iroh laughed from his horse beside them. “Maybe I should’ve stayed, it was nice to see old friends.”
“Too bad you don’t have any old friends that don’t want to attack you.” Zuko groaned front his seat in front of Y/n.
The three of them were riding pretty fast, so Y/n had her arms gripped around the boy’s torso. He had stiffened at first, but slowly relaxed at her touch.
“Hmm... Old friends that don’t want to attack me...”
___
thanks for sticking w me guys <3
even if you skipped past the memories like i know some do, i appreciate you reading this :)
anyways might actually have some cutesy stuff next chapter so wait till next week to read it <33
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Taglist: @bucky-blogs @hopefuloperaangelnerd @simplyfandomish @oddlypointlessescapes @lozzybowe ((bolded couldn’t be tagged))
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Despite What You Are (5)
Summary: Vampires don’t feed on blood, they feed on fear. So, why is yours so potent? Why were you saved by the most dangerous of all vampires–Kim Namjoon?
Based on this request:
“Can i ask for a ff where namjoon is a vampire mafia boss and has a spft spot for you. And you get into trouble woth a rival gang and he goes crazy? Fluffy and angsty 🌹”
Thoughts from the bedside
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four
It was bright. Sunny, borderline too sunny—the first time you were seeing the outside world since your departure from the world due to a smoky shitpile of a vampire injury. There probably should’ve been more fear associated with the act, but it was real hard to be fearful when Namjoon stood by your side.
Perhaps that moment should have been your first clue to your inevitable fate. But you were dumb, always and forever.
Without thinking, you sunk down to the grass, feeling the heat of the earth seep into your bones. Even when you were at the hunter’s association, the only version of the outside you ever got to see was one covered in barbed, electric wire and asphalt that desperately needed to be replaced.
Nothing really ever lived there; even the weeds were nonexistent--as if even the Earth knew that place smothered everything that tried to survive.
You could feel Namjoon’s eyes on the side of your face as you closed your eyes to the healing power of nature Yeah sure, it was just some fucking grass—but for someone who hadn’t seen nor felt grass in several years, it was heaven. There was even a pathetic little tree within eyesight that looked like the tree of life to an environmentally starved human such as yourself.
“What was it like in the human compound—not the Hunters’, but the one you came from?”
“Mmm.” You didn’t open your eyes because, well, you didn’t want to yet. “It was home. I grew up there; I had parents, friends and a life that actually felt like a life. I went to school and graduated; I had plans to get married and have a steady job. I remember that it was a place that felt safe and felt like it would bring me happiness... It was a place where I could dream. I haven’t dreamt in so long—it was better not to then to be crushed by what couldn’t be.”
Namjoon was silent for a moment, contemplative. “I wonder what my dream was before you. I can’t seem to remember if I even had one.”
“Namjoon!” It was perhaps the most horrifying noise to have ever graced your throat—somewhere between a growl and a shriek that ripped your vocal chords and left dryness at the back of your tongue. However, with the wire wrapping around your waist--threatening to cut off circulation to your desperate, dragging feet--you couldn’t find it in you to care about the pain of your scream. Rather, you let out another.
“Namjoon!”
There were tears coming to your eyes before you could stop them, adrenaline injecting itself into your veins out of frustration. Garlic. It smelled like too much garlic and the metallic tang of blood. If you were in a better state of mind, you would have chuckled about the fact that you finally, finally got rid of the smell of garlic burned into your nostrils from years of soaking weaponry. Before you could scream again, a gloved hand enclosed around your mouth—that motherfucking radio buzzing with static before a voice you desperately didn’t want to hear reverberated through the streets.
Don’t let her escape.
Despite the fact that the blood running through your system turned to ice, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of Namjoon, sandwiched between Taehyung and Yoongi as they looped their arms through his. His screams somehow made it past the rushing in your ears and the silence of your body loosing the majority of its senses.
You hated that you could still hear the sizzle of garlic hitting his skin, the god awful smell permeating your nostrils.
I’ve got a read on your location—I’ll send backup. Make sure she’s alive.
Suddenly, as if you hadn’t been thinking about it every waking second—as if you haven’t been planning on putting your life in the hands of some shoddy medicine to remove it—you remembered the implant the Hunter’s Association had placed within you.
Hey, at least now you knew it was a GPS, right?
Yeah that did absolutely shit nothing to comfort you and before you knew it there was a god awful noise that sounded more feline than humanoid ripping through your chest.
Like a tiny, miniscule insect caught in a widow’s web, you shook and struggled. Every limb flailed fingers and joints digging into every available surface area of the woman holding you hostage. Your hands came up to rip the stupid lens off her face—the fucking bullshit piece of technology that Hunters wore regardless of the time of day. You nearly managed to reach her eye before she jerked her head away, your legs trying to kick out the back of her knee in her distraction. In a final act of desperation, your teeth sunk into the leather of her glove, trying to break flesh.
The wire around your waist cinched tighter around you, digging into your skin as you let out a god-awful shriek. “Fuck off!” But it was muffled through leather and hunter’s fingers.
She’s being unreasonable. Sedate her.
Another hunter approached you, ready to help assist the woman holding you like a wild animal needing to be removed from someone’s home.
“Oh fuck no!” You spat, hoisting your legs up to press square against his chest, shoving with all of your weight to keep him at bay. You couldn’t go down yet. Not yet. Namjoon was hurt. Namjoon needed you and these people would have to do everything in their power to stop you from going to him if they had any hope of keeping you.
Not that you were strong. God you wished you were strong now more than ever.
One of the woman’s hands freed themselves to search through the pack buckled around her hips.
Your mind raced, trying to travel back to hunter’s training, trying to remember what sedatives they had—how quickly they took effect. Would you have time to escape before you went down? Would you make it back to them?
Would you make it back to Namjoon before it was too late?
Too late. Too late for who?
Your eyes scanned the battle wildly, hunters invading the corners of your visions like the black spots you see when you’re about to pass out. Through their backs, you could see Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin fighting them off in an attempt to get to you. Occasionally, one of them would look up at you and you could see their desperation increase in the power of a hit thrown to a human.
Y/N. I’m well aware that you can hear me.
Your laser focus slid back to the walkie at the female’s hip.
Your whole body froze at the sound of your name, one of your feet propped on the face of the hunter in front of you while your arms shook from the effort of holding back the huntress’ hand armed with a needle--far too close to your skin for comfort.
I want to personally congratulate you. When you come home, you can expect to see a medal waiting for you in your honor. You brought us directly to Kim Namjoon. You brought down the largest and most powerful clan on the entire continent—you should be proud. Despite your previous disobedience, I will have you know that your slate will be cleaned with this gift to us.
A year ago, the news would have been good to hear for yourself. One less clan? One less powerful ass vampire to threaten your life? Great. Excellent.
But, since the only remaining strand of fear currently inhabiting your body was for Namjoon and his safety, you realized that you were no longer that girl from a year ago. You were no longer afraid of the world outside your walls, you were no longer afraid of all vampires and you sure as hell had no fear for the people that you once were forced to consider comrades.
God, if you could spit in the General’s Assistant’s face, you would have hocked the biggest motherfucking loogie your body could offer.
“And what makes you think I want your useless medal?” You hissed, returning from the depths of your repressed memories to the present moment. With renewed vigor, you clamped your legs around the male hunter’s head. Every ounce of strength you owned went to your core and abs, lip curling as you began the process of crushing the motherfucker’s head. His hands reached up to claw at your thighs, his mouth gasping for breath as the woman’s efforts to save her fellow hunter distracted her from the bigger picture: you. Still using your strength to kill, you discovered the ability to multi-task long enough to snap the needle out of her weakened hand.
One threat down. For now.
Not to say she couldn’t grab another. Not to say you weren’t one more hunter away from being dragged back to the base camp.
Are you choosing their side?
You looked up to meet Hoseok’s gaze, as he was the closest and the most active in trying to get to you. He was the one within earshot; he was the one that was most likely going to bring you back to Namjoon or get hurt trying. And god did you love him for it.
(Vampires don’t make any sense)
“Yeah, well, humans don’t make much of it either.”
“You’re smart enough to answer that on your own.” You chuckled darkly, adjusting your grip on the man enough to be able to get a better grasp on his skull—the prior position obviously wasn’t working because…well… he was still breathing. The huntress behind you jerked you to the side in an attempt to remove you from the man you were smothering between your legs. However, it was the worst life-saving attempt you’d seen yet, considering you hadn’t let up on your vice grip and you had no intentions to do so.
All it did was snap his neck.
“But yes.” You murmured to his body as his hands slumped off your thighs and the huntress screamed out in rage directly in your ear. “I choose his side.” You slammed your skull back into her face, wincing at the throbbing of your eardrum.
The statement was all it took for Hoseok to take that final burst towards you, any concern for the bullets fired from the guns all around you lost in that moment. Your concern for his safety, however, only increased until you finally saw why he was no longer worried about the garlic soaked threats: Jimin was using the remainder of his strength to aid Hoseok (Small, almost invisible shields no bigger than a dinner plate—ten at max, so, considering Jimin’s weakened state, it was probably like five. The younger had told you about his ability one night when you were far too curious and far too drunk off some wine Jungkook raided for you).
If you had been in a less concerned state of mind, you probably would have noticed that his lips were moving in an attempt to convey a very important message to you. One that you blatantly ignored because one: it was loud as hell currently, and two: you were dumb.
Hoseok growled in frustration at you as you furrowed your brow on him, thrashing in the huntress’ grip whilst you tried (and failed) to read his lips. You would have absolutely bombed any whisper challenge.
It wasn’t until he was practically in front of you that you could finally make out what he was trying to say, and surprise! It wasn’t “Do apes eat chocolate?”
“Y/N! Cover your ears!”
“I think that Hoseok has the worst ability.” Jiwoo said during one of her bouts of oversharing. You two were similar in that aspect. Suddenly, when presented with a genuine friend willing to listen to your endless rambling, you both found silence impossible and filled it to the brim with ADD thoughts. “I mean, not the worst as in, like, useless—but worst as in fatal.” She made a face at the ceiling. “I said that wrong, didn’t I?”
“Yes, Jiwoo.” You, too, chuckled to the ever listening ceiling. “You did, but continue anyways. I really want to know now.”
“Well…like…how do I put this…” She paused. “Okay, well he can alter his vocal chords in a way that can bust the brains of whoever he chooses. It’s like a sonic scream—however it’s all dependent on the tone. He’s perfected the right note to kill humans within his radius. Vampires are another story; he’s been working on that one. Apparently vampiric brains vary too much to make it easy for him.”
In a heated scramble as the woman screamed “STAND DOWN” in your already aching ear, you wrestled your hands free—nearly slapping yourself in the process of trying to keep your brain in your head. You thought that having the precious organ leaking out your ears would not be an attractive or life-sustaining look.
The sound burst through your fingers anyways, shimmying through your ear drums until your head was shaking with the force of Hoseok’s screams. The people around you froze and twisted like they’d been shot, bodies contorting at impossible angles as if they were exploding from the inside out.
In the chaos, Hoseok was able to get close enough to you to slap his hands over yours as added cushion to the hell of his voice. Despite both layers of skin and bone, you still felt blood dribble down from your nose and onto your upper lip. You screwed your eyes shut and clenched your jaw against the dampened noise; god, you did not want to imagine what it would sound like with bare ears.
The huntress behind you finally slumped, the wire around your waist loosening to a puddle at your feet, now that the person holding it was no longer living.
When Hoseok’s hands finally lifted off of yours—it couldn’t have been longer than five seconds, even if it felt like an eternity to your dum hooman brain—your ears were still ringing.
But you were alive.
Which, honestly, was more than you could say for the fallen hunters strewn around you like dead flies.
You didn’t want to look behind you, but curiosity got the better of you and you wound up making eye contact with the woman who had been holding you hostage. Granted, her eyes were darkened and seeing nothing—but that didn’t stop the frozen look of pain on her face as blood leaked from every possible orifice. If you weren’t so preoccupied in your thoughts, you probably would have thrown up. Instead, you just spit the gathered blood in your mouth at the ground, frowning at the radio on her hip.
“If you can hear me, fuck you.” You mumbled, if only because your tongue felt heavy and the world was swaying around you. You doubted that he could; the words were for your own sanity, for your own control of your life. For Namjoon.
Namjoon.
Namjoon needed you.
You took one swirling look at Hoseok, nodding your thanks because you couldn’t remember how to use your vocal chords. Your first attempt at bolting back towards the compound was thwarted by the fact that your legs were now noodles and the ground was pitched at a drunken angle. Gracefully, you wound up slamming into the busted concrete in a pile of limbs. But, like the stubborn mule you were, determination had you back on your feet and plowing forward before you could even process the fact that you had actually fallen on top of a dead body.
There was a fierce ringing in your ears and every breath you took sounded too loud for the sudden silence of the universe but that one singular thought outweighed every earthly issue.
He chuckled softly. “You are a very interesting human, Y/N.”
Somewhere in the distance, in a faraway parallel universe where your body was but your mind wasn’t, you could feel the pain, exhaustion and agony of moving as fast as you were forcing yourself to. However, it was easily washed out by the pounding of your heart in your chest and the buzz of worry in your brain.
He still had the same smile though.
Bursting through the gates of the compound like a garlic soaked madwoman, you scanned the crowd of equally panicked vampires, failing to note the ones trying to direct you in favor of focusing on the most devastating sound you’d ever heard:
Namjoon’s agonized screams of pain.
Rushing out onto the warehouse floor, you noted that they had haphazardly tossed him onto a table, several vampires holding down his limbs in an attempt to stop him from writhing to the floor. A very unsure and emotionally unstable Taehyung was wiping at his neck in a vain attempt to stop the flow of blood despite his thrashing.
Everything that had been burning hot in your body instantly hit its freezing point, suddenly making you unable to feel your extremities.
Mechanically, as if you knew you couldn’t touch him with your own bloodied, garlic-tainted hands, you ripped off large chunks of your shirt to wrap around them. You stepped towards him slowly, giving yourself enough time to prepare yourself for what you had to do.
However, you, yourself were at a lack of what that might be.
You couldn’t tear your eyes from him—everyone else disappeared around you as if he was the only remaining being on this planet besides yourself. He was sweating with a fever, his skin paling before your eyes.
Vampires don’t get sick.
“Namjoon.” You whispered, completely ignoring the concern of Taehyung by your shoulder. Gingerly, you placed your clothed palms against his chest to get better leverage for you to take a closer look at his wound. Luckily, it appeared that the bullet had just grazed his neck--which would have been fine for him were it a normal bullet. However, since it was garlic laced, the location was perhaps the worst spot in his body to receive such a wound.
Since it was in a place that was directly flowing garlic laden blood to a system that couldn’t handle the substance.
“Namjoon.” You whispered again.
He only let out a huff of breath and a pained grown, his eyes unable to focus on anything in front of him.
Get rid of it, you have to get rid of it. You have to take out the garlic. You have to---
Your hand reached up to cup his face, forcing his gaze to flicker to you.
“Namjoon, look at me please. If you can hear me, please look at me.” Your brow furrowed in determination. “Don’t close your eyes. I need you to stay awake. I need you to look at me. If you—if you close your eyes and I lose you then what was the fucking point of all of this?” You hissed because you wanted to shout but you couldn’t make yourself any louder than you already were.
You didn’t realize you were crying until you watched cool droplets pepper his skin.
Shakily, he freed one hand from the vampires holding him, slowly reaching up to brush away your tears intermingled with blood; his blood or yours, you didn’t know.
You could feel it then, whatever “it” was. You could feel him. You could feel his pain, his fear, his worry. You could feel what he was thinking without being able to process it into words. And, in that moment, you knew you would risk it all for him.
Because….because….
Because I love you.
“Trust me.” You murmured, leaning into his touch before shifting to get a better grasp on him.
Water wouldn’t work, and with a lack of medical knowledge or equipment, there wasn’t a better way to get rid of the poison in his system.
So you did what only a human could do. You leaned down, feeling the heat of his fever radiate a scorching energy across your skin as you got closer to the wound. Swallowing one last free breath, you steeled your nerves and latched your lips around the wound.
You took an experimental bite, gathering as much blood as you could in your mouth before leaning up to spit the garlic laden liquid into the hem of your destroyed shirt. The second time you went in, he jolted against you—his body letting out an awful groan that quickly became a borderline scream. It took every bit of muscle you didn’t have to hold him down and repeat the process.
In that moment, you felt like an honest to god vampire—the ones from the history books; the ones that turned out to be incomparable to the real ones. The ones prior to the War of 2048. The ones that drank blood and lived in the darkness and didn’t understand humans as a source for anything but food.
The ones that wouldn’t be able to grasp your free hand as tightly as the one beneath you.
You continued until you couldn’t taste garlic anymore, until his skin slowly returned to its normal, honeyed color. You continued until the vampires around him could release him because he was no longer shaking uncontrollably. You continued until his sweat broke and the heat of his skin no longer scalded yours, until you couldn’t take the continued taste of his blood—until it became more metallic than sweet.
In a final gasp of breath, you spit the remainder into your soaked shirt, lifting your head to wipe at the smear of blood on your chin.
His eyes bore into your face with a clarity that relieved the majority of your worries.
He still couldn’t move properly, and he still wasn’t fully himself because, naturally, it would take a while for him to gather back his full strength. But what mattered was that he was here now. He was alive and there wasn’t enough garlic remaining in his system to threaten his life.
Taehyung handed you a fresh rag, allowing you to press it against Namjoon’s wound as he coughed. His words were weak, but you were hyper focused on him and could have heard them even if he didn’t make a sound. “This…” He coughed again. “This wasn’t what you wanted.”
Your eyes felt like they were being held open with toothpicks, your body succumbing to exhaustion now that the adrenaline was quickly leaving you behind. Despite it all, you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his worry. “No. This wasn’t what I wanted.”
“I…” He licked his lips. “I’m not what you wanted.”
You brushed his damp hair off of his forehead, continuing to hold pressure to his neck. You couldn’t help the gentle smile you gave him. He was cute.
This vulnerable version of him was cute.
“No.” You murmured. “No you weren’t.”
You could see the smile in his eyes, if only because his face had trouble making any expression other than tired pain. “But you stayed.”
You could have left. You could have let them take you back to the humans.
But you didn’t.
He didn’t have to say it for you to hear it, for you to read it in the features of his face.
You nodded, feeling your heart go rogue against your sternum. “I did.” You chuckled. “I did.”
~.~
You rested your head against the wall of the bathroom, brow furrowed on the ceiling. Every ounce of your energy was zapped into oblivion, leaving you a heaping mess on the floor of the restroom you’d been banished to.
In the wake of their clan leader being injured, you’d been removed from his side to go clean up—however, with the six currently occupied, the other vampires deemed you dangerous (what with your garlic hands) and, unbeknownst to the people who gave a shit about you, you were forced to take care of yourself. That, however, was hard to do when you were a walking injury who found out she could no longer move.
Not like you could blame the vampires though, as far as they were concerned, you were a walking weapon. And, well, they didn’t really understand the human body’s limits—the only people who did were otherwise occupied.
Of course, that didn’t change the slight sting of loneliness in your bones. Honestly, you were spoiled being around people who cared about you for more than the title of your chess piece.
It made you want to continue to be cared about.
Well, it was your fault that you made yourself a garlic bomb during a vampiric battle.
Battle? Were you really part of a battle? Did you seriously live through a battle?
Who the fuck were you now? Some freaking heroine in a dystopian novel?
With a scoff that determined you were no longer going to mope and feel sorry for yourself, you weaseled your way up into a sitting position—albeit with too much effort and a heaving amount of pain that had you wincing and biting your cheek to stop from crying out.
“Okay, Y/N. Next step.” You murmured to yourself, grabbing the edge of your destroyed shirt. “You can do this.” You managed to get the fabric to your shoulders before you forehead broke out into a sheen of sweat and you gasped out a pathetic noise of pain at your aching and bruised muscles. “Okay, girl, maybe you can’t do this.”
It was at that moment, with you pathetically bearing your ruined bra to the universe inside the bathroom walls that the door burst open with absolutely no hint of delicacy.
You honestly couldn’t find it in you to give a shit as you tilted your head up to meet the intruder’s gaze.
Jiwoo’s angered stare met yours, the rage transforming into worry within one millisecond as she caught sight of you pathetically slouched on the tile. You didn’t get a chance to speak or unpack any of her emotions before she was letting out a snarl.
“I’m going to kill them.”
“Who?” You would have been scared if she didn’t look like she was going to cry. If your arms weren’t dead weight in your lap and if you legs could work you would have hugged her.
“Everyone. The people that did this to you, the vampires that thought you could fix yourself on your own, you for getting into this mess--everyone.” You hadn’t realized she had been holding the door open until she fully stepped inside and let it slam behind her with an earthquake thud.
You only nodded stupidly, your gaze cast down to your hands and the bloody, smelly mess that they had become. “I have garlic on me.”
She crouched down, grabbing the non garlic soaked bit of your shirt to remove it entirely before tossing it into a corner. You didn’t miss the way her lip curled at it in disgust. “So?” Her voice was soft in comparison to the steel of her features as she crouched down in front of you. “I can’t believe they left you all alone in here. How are you supposed to care for yourself in this state?”
The longer she squatted before you, the longer she assessed the damage done to your body, the deeper the crease between her brows got. It would have been a shame if she gave herself wrinkles, she was pretty.
“What about Yoongi? The others? They need more attention than me—“
“Y/N.” She cut you off grabbing both of your hands despite the grit of her teeth as the garlic sizzled into her skin. If only because you were afraid she would hurt herself further, you let her lift you to your feet so she could help you wash the blood and pasta sauce from your hands. It was definitely her doing the lifting too; you were more ragdoll than human at the moment. “I won’t let you be alone. Not right now.”
You stared at your feet, letting her take care of you—refusing to meet your own stare in the cracked and dirty mirror above the sink. Who wanted to look at themselves when they knew they were the reason for everything that just happened? She reached over to the first aid kit that had been tossed in the room with you earlier, frowning at the pathetic array of medical equipment garnered for you. “There’s not even anything to scrub you with.” It seemed her disdain for the vampires that left you in here by yourself was only growing by the second, her anger a ticking time bomb. You felt she didn’t know what else to be—you felt like she felt as helpless as you did.
“Ji, its fine, really—“ But, when you lifted your head you could see her taking her shirt off behind you, dunking the fabric into the sink before you could even form any words. “What are you doing?!”
“I’m taking care of you.” She said simply, grabbing your arm to begin cleaning the stale blood from your skin. “Because you can’t and he can’t and no one else will.”
“I can do it.” You murmured weakly, but if it weren’t for her grasp on you, you would probably have collapsed to the floor; even she could see that. Your eyes followed the path she cleaned, wincing at the pain that came with the archeology of healing. Underneath layers of dirt and blood you both discovered the cuts and bruises—the threatening fractures that had you making pathetic noises in the back of your throat. You discovered the pain that settled into your bones and made you immobile; even you didn’t know just how bad your injuries were. You hadn’t really had the chance to figure it out in the wake of Namjoon.
But the masochistic part of you said that it wasn’t enough pain—you should have more. You should be dead—you should—
“Why?” Jiwoo whispered, her voice hoarse. “Why would you put yourself in danger like this? Namjoon—he could have handled it himself.”
You knew that. A deep-set part of you knew that. As her shirt turned washcloth soothed the heated ache in your back with cold water, you knew that everything you did was in vain. Even sitting there, safe and sound in an abandoned bathroom, you could still hear Namjoon’s screams. You could still hear the buzz of the walkie talkie’s feedback.
You could still smell garlic.
“He could have.” You murmured.
All your fault, Y/N. This is all your fault. If you weren’t so stupid he would have been alive and well and completely fine.
So would that Hunter you were partnered with.
Jiwoo’s gaze softened on you, her forehead resting against your temple. “If it was Yoongi, I know I would have done that same. But you and I—we are different species, you have to know that. You matter too much, Y/N. What would we do without you?”
You felt tears building in your eyes, that pathetic, fragile spine of yours folding easily to your fear, your blame and your guilt. You were nothing if you weren’t weak-willed, a human afraid of everything.
Especially herself.
“I wanted to keep him safe.” You whispered. “I’m nothing special, just a dumb human. But he’s done all of this for me and I—I-I—“
Jiwoo’s arms were around you before you could think properly, the pain in your bones a punishment you bared with all the grace of gritted teeth and a yelp of pain that you swallowed in your chest. Her hugs were a force to be reckoned with, because they were usually the contact you got when you needed it most.
“You are incredibly special.” Her anger tried to punch through your thick skull like a lobotomy needle, quick, sharp and to the point. “You aren’t special just because Namjoon is your mate, not just because you’re a small, fractional possibility in a sea of normality. You aren’t special because your fear tastes like what I imagine your human sugar tastes like to you. You are special because you are Y/N. There is only one you; no one can replace you.”
“Everyone is replaceable.”
She shook her head. “No. Not everyone is. Not everyone can make Hoseok laugh so loud that he breaks the glass to the oven. Not everyone can make Taehyung distract enough to get lost during missions because he was looking for a game—if only because he now has someone who wants to play with him. Not everyone can make Seokjin smile like we’ve never seen in years. Not everyone can make Jungkook control himself around a human as much as you can; if only because he wants to be your friend so bad that he forces himself to do the impossible. There hasn’t been a single person—vampire or human—to understand me the way you have. Not everyone can stand up to a room full of vampires when it is obvious that they shake at the mere sight of them. Not everyone can dare to shoot a gun at death and still be standing of their own accord. Not everyone can stand in the middle of two species and find peace with what they had always considered their enemy. And for sure, there isn’t another person on this planet that could make Namjoon fight as hard as he is for you. Y/N, there is absolutely no one else like you. If you were not here, we would all suffer.”
At some point, during her speech that could have moved mountains, her thumbs had come up to brush away tears you hadn’t realized had been falling. It was a lot to say you were worth it when this mess was caused by you.
It’s all your fault he’s hurt.
“But I couldn’t save him.” You whispered.
Her hug was unrelenting, her care momentarily forgotten in the wake of your emotional trauma. “You did.”
“But it was my fault that it happened in the first place.”
“It was the Hunter’s Association’s gun, not yours.”
“But—but I am a Hunter.”
She pulled back to asses you, her eyes flitting across your face as if she was trying to figure out if this was truly a person she knew. “Are you?” Her brow furrowed on you. “Have you ever killed a vampire, Y/N? Hell—“ She scoffed. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
“My--my actions caused people to die.”
The trees became made of blood, the petals falling bits of bone that dislodged from the branches. In the shadows you could see clawed hands reaching for you, pitch black eyes boring into yours as it grabbed your wrists and—
Jiwoo lifted your hands to your line of sight. Her hands weren’t clawed; her nails were blunt and normal around your wrists—gentle, even. Her eyes were clear and kind and didn’t whisper death threats in your ear. “These, Y/N. Have these hands ever taken life?”
You stared at her; the force of your nightmare dissipating around you launched you into a state of shock. It was a ghost that had haunted you, a shadow that never removed itself from you—something you could never get rid of.
But in the bathroom, there were no trees and there was no blood but your own.
You still had your guts in your stomach and you heart in your chest.
You shook your head.
She smiled, blinding in the close proximity. “Then you are not a Hunter, you are Y/N, a very special human. My most special human friend, someone I could not live without.”
The tears that fell could have been from the pain and exhaustion, from the relief of thinking you lost Namjoon, from the realization that your life was inextricably changed forever. But, for the first time in forever, you wanted to believe that they came from happiness.
It was funny how a vampire could be more human than humanity itself.
~.~
It was strange, to say the least. An odd feeling to have the roles reversed; like you were in a parallel universe where you were stronger than Kim Namjoon, the clan leader of the century. It didn’t feel right for you to be sitting curled up in the chair while he lay injured and breathing heavily on the bed. How long ago was it that you woke up to those golden eyes? How long ago was it that you were in that bed while he was in that chair?
How long was it that you realized you didn’t want to be anywhere he wasn’t?
It had taken Jiwoo a tremendous amount of effort to get you upstairs and to the room—despite protests from both her and Taehyung who insisted that you get your own rest in a more comfortable place such as their own plush beds. However, you told them you wanted the chair; you told them that you wanted to see him—that you needed to be there. With pity in their eyes, they obliged if only because, by now, they knew you could be unreasonably stubborn when you wanted to.
It was a painful fold, no matter how you situated yourself in the furniture, you couldn’t get comfortable. Everything felt swollen and injured, threatening to tear your skin at the seams and spill all your metaphorical stuffing to the floor. But you wanted to be there.
It should have been boring, honestly. Sitting there aching and in pain and just staring at him as he slept should have been the epitome of torture. But it wasn’t. There was something that stilled the panic inside of you just by watching him rest. Despite the way your fingers fiddled at your chest, you felt comfort in watching the rise and fall of his breaths. It didn’t help your nails from scratching at your skin as if you could reach through your own skin and rip out the device to blame for all of this. If you could have, you would have gone back in time and forced him back sooner. You wouldn’t have laid there on the asphalt like a tired heap of a human, you would have remembered about Jisung’s teleporter.
Maybe then this wouldn’t have been your fault.
But no what ifs and no time controlling could transfer this blame. Even the soft words from Jiwoo couldn’t erase the guilt settling in your gut. Nothing could stop the cacophony of sound from reverberating in your skull, bouncing through your brain until all you could hear was the endless repetition of “My fault. It’s my fault.”
Even when you screwed your eyes shut in the hopes that the loss of one sense would erase them all, it couldn’t stop the unbidden image of Namjoon falling as he screamed in pain. Nothing could uninstall that frame of mind you had when you thought that you were going to lose him forever. You were afraid like you hadn’t ever been.
You’d never had a need to be afraid for another person, because you’d never had any people you loved more than yourself.
You didn’t want to be in this world if Namjoon wasn’t; you didn’t want to imagine a life without him in it.
In that moment, your body went lax, a chuckle escaping you as the tears burst past the gaps in your eyelashes. You had to give up to move on. You had to give up because there wasn’t any way you could lie to yourself any longer.
You loved Kim Namjoon. More than you’ve ever loved anyone, more than you think you’d ever love anyone else.
He wouldn’t understand the sentiment, he wouldn’t reciprocate in the way you wanted him to, but it was better to have what you could than nothing at all, right? He cared for you, and that was enough—that had to be enough.
With a heavy sigh, you peeled open your eyes, tilting your head back to the spot where you knew Namjoon would be.
However, you didn’t expect to meet the intensity of his golden gaze in that exact moment. You didn’t expect him to be awake, one eyebrow raised at you as you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of an injured man coherent.
“What is so funny?” He murmured, his tone shifting the moment he caught the quick sight flash of a tear kamikaze-ing down your cheek. “Why are your eyes wet?”
You let out a bark of laughter, unable to help the sudden onslaught of fresh tears running wild. “It’s called crying, stupid.”
“But why?”
You loved him. You loved him so much.
Your eyes met his once more and you shook your head, your lips twisting into a sad version of a smile. “I don’t even know anymore.”
Letting your extremely unhelpful answer slide for the moment, his eyes flit across your features to linger heavily on the bruising evident from the blown out collar of your shirt—his piercing stare especially zeroed in on the blood seeping through the fresh bandages on your hands.
You could sense his hatred and anger without him ever uttering the words; you could taste it in the air as it soured on the back of your tongue. All he had to do was look at you for you to know what he was thinking.
Was it the same for him?
You rested your chin in the palm of your hand in an attempt to hide some of the damage from his probing stare. “I’m fine, honestly. You…” you took in a sharp breath. “You almost weren’t.”
He sunk his head back into the pillow underneath him, however his gaze never wavered from you. “Humans are more fragile than I will ever be—you were also almost not fine.”
“Perhaps. But at least I didn’t have artery exposure to a substance I’m deathly allergic to.” You murmured, raising one eyebrow back at him.
He pursed his lips at you, an ever present crease gathering between his brows. “Touché.”
There was a brief moment where it was just the two of you, meeting each other’s stare. Naturally, you had to be the one to look away first, finding solace in the way your hand curled around the fabric of your jeans. It was easier than trying to decipher what that glimmer in his gaze meant.
However, this time he was the one to break the silence first. “I’m sorry that I did not tell you what we were going out to do.”
You shrugged. “I want to say its fine, that I am overly emotional about a lot of things for no reason. But it’s not.”
He nodded. “It is not my intention to exclude you from these happenstances; however I value your life over your temporary satisfaction.”
“Will this be a long-term issue?”
“I hope to clear this mess as quickly as possible, as Jisung has decided to make himself far more annoying than initially planned.”
You bit your lip, your fingers kneading into the sore flesh of your thigh through the fabric. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? All of this. You wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for me.”
“Y/N, while it is true I may not have been a clan leader if it weren’t for your existence, I would still find myself in a similar predicament. We want to protect our mates.”
“You were born to be a clan leader.”
His eyes sparked with something you couldn’t yet name and you didn’t dwell on it for fear of your thoughts leaking into his. “I appreciate the compliment. I would appreciate it even more if you quit blaming yourself for the results of Jisung’s confrontation. This is not your fault—my injury is not your fault.”
“The tracking device is in me, it is my fault.”
He let out a long-winded sigh. “Is that what this is about? Something that the humans did to you? Do you now blame yourself for their faults as well? What they do to me, what they have done to you, is also not your fault.”
“But—“
“Y/N.” He slowly extended one hand out towards your chair, his fingers long and inviting—they looked like they might be real nice to lace through yours. “Come here.”
You didn’t move despite the fact that there was a tantalizing offer on the table, instead, you swallowed and forced yourself to face him with all of your mouse bravery. “I thought I was going to lose you from this. I thought that this was it, that I wasn’t going to see you alive anymore because of this stupid device. I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if…if…if…”
“If I died?” That damn eyebrow of his was at it again, incredulously raised just to mock you.
You gulped despite the fact that your mouth was dry. “Yes.”
His eyes were warm, warm in the same way that protected you years ago, warm in the way that engulfed you while attacking Jisung, warm in the way that only Kim Namjoon could be. “I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon; death is improbable because I have you.”
You felt your face heat up like a kettle on the stove, slowly seeping up your neck until the tips of your ears were burning. You really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you embarrassed, but his words hit too suddenly for you to recover quickly.
“Besides, we now have matching scars.” He gestured to his bandaged and immobile shoulder before going back to offering you that extended hand.
Like the shittiest matching couple’s outfits.
“I would equate it more to couple’s tattoos—I saw those in one of those mating movies.”
You shook your head, too tired to correct his entire being in the moment. “That’s a curse, not a sign of affection—don’t you know those always end horribly?”
He rolled his eyes. “Y/N, will you just take my hand?”
“You need to sleep.” You whispered, despite the fact that your fingers were already reaching out to brush across his.
It took little to no effort for him to snap his hand around yours, ripping you from the sheltered safety of the chair and into his side as if that was the place you belonged. However, you could see a sheen of sweat break out across his skin from the effort exerted to move you like a ragdoll.
“You’re going to hurt yourself further! You’re still healing!” You snapped, though it had no bite with the heat emanating from your tomato cheeks at the close proximity to his face. You were absolutely, 100% sure that he could feel the way your heart jack-hammered against your sternum.
“Well you weren’t making it easy, so I had to do something.” He mumbled like a kicked puppy, wrapping his good arm around your shoulders to keep you pinned to him. “Besides, you’re warm in the way I like. You are a natural healing agent.”
“Stop saying embarrassing stuff!”
“But I like the way it makes your face turn different shades of burnt.”
“You’re lucky I don’t want to hit you because you’re injured!”
But he only laughed, the sound vibrating through your bones. “I am, aren’t I?”
You buried your face into his good shoulder so he could no longer get the satisfaction of flustering you with his being. “Stop watching romance movies—you’re getting cheesy.”
“What’s cheese?”
You groaned, reaching up to cover his eyes with your hand. “Just go to sleep already, would you?”
~.~
“You’re going to have to feed if you’re going to have any hope of getting off of that bed.” Yoongi’s glare was unrelenting; his arms crossed and frown permanently creased into his features. However, it appeared that Namjoon was otherwise distracted, his attention solely focused on you and Seokjin as he assessed your injuries. “Yah! Are you even listening?”
“No.” Both you and Namjoon spoke at the same time, much to your scowl and his shit-eating grin.
“He’s too busy focused on the person who’s been able to walk around and move just fucking fine this past week while he’s still bed-ridden and glued to a mattress.” You grumbled under your breath, wincing as Seokjin slipped a needle under your skin.
“What are you doing?” Namjoon asked instead of answering either you or Yoongi’s retorts.
“I’m giving her something to help with the swelling.” Seokjin murmured. “However, perhaps you should take the advice of your colleague and your mate and focus on yourself in the meantime.” He hit a particularly sore spot, whispering apologies as you pressed your lips into a line to unsuccessfully disguise the grunt of pain.
“I want to know what it is. I want to know how to help her—I don’t want to rely on you for everything.”
Dead puppies dead puppies. Daisies. Dogs. You missed dogs. It’d been a long time since you’d seen a dog.
You focused your ADHD thoughts on literally anything but the fact that you were relying on Seokjin for far more than making you better—you were relying on him for a secret that, if Namjoon were to catch, the two of you would be screwed. Well, maybe not you, but boy would you be pissed if you couldn’t get this fucking thing out of you. And you kinda sorta liked Seokjin enough that you really didn’t want to see him without a head.
“That is a concern for later, Joon. You can’t learn when you’re getting a fever from lack of food.”
It was almost cute how Namjoon pouted at the rejection. It was kind of cute how he wanted to be the one to be by your side always if it wasn’t for the fact that you were a strong independent woman who---
Who were you kidding, it was hella cute. You felt like a romance novel heroine living up the dream with her hot vampiric mate.
Well, if it weren’t for the fact that you weren’t the least bit the heroine that anyone would write about.
“Besides, she’ll be fine. She’s surprisingly durable for a human.”
Namjoon scoffed. “You hadn’t seen her the first time.”
“I can imagine based on the state of the second time.”
“Hey.” You waved your hands in the air like an idiot, smacking Seokjin extra if only because you couldn’t do the same to Namjoon. “I’m still here guys.”
Seokjin only chuckled. “For now. Make another mistake and you might not be. You have to be more careful.”
“Yeah yeah.” You groaned, even though everyone in the room could fully tell that you had absolutely no intention of doing just that as long as Namjoon’s life was on the line. Well, Seokjin especially—what with the time for your plan coming quicker than either of you were properly prepared for.
“So are you going to feed or what?” Yoongi snapped, causing you to hide a burst of laughter behind your hand.
Namjoon glared at the elder. “If you carry me. I am not about to expose her to that.”
So you become a toddler when you are bed-ridden and can’t move.
“I heard that.” He snapped.
“You were meant to.” You chuckled, sticking out your tongue until Seokjin tested your reflexes by slapping his hand against your knee, causing you to let out a quick yelp that had everyone in the room laughing.
~.~
He was basking in the afterglow of his meal, and despite the fact that he probably just killed a human, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. He looked the healthiest he’d been in days; it was amazing what the required nutrients could do to a being.
“Shouldn’t you be scared?” He murmured as you wiped a rag down his face to clean up the blood splattered there. It wasn’t his, that much you knew.
“Probably.” You murmured, tilting his head to the side to gain access to his neck. Somehow he even managed to get it along his collar bones. There was a big part of you that knew you should have thought about the person behind the blood, the person whose fear made this vampire so healthy—the person who’s life had to end for his to continue. But, with no body and your worry otherwise focused on Namjoon’s healing, you felt more like a mother cleaning up a toddler who just shoved their face in chocolate cake. “But there are sacrifices for everything, aren’t there?”
“There are. But am I worth those human lives?”
You wanted to tell him yes, to say that he was far more important than any of those lives—but that was selfish of you and that was your heart talking over your mind. So instead, you remained silent and let the quiet in the air force you to choose your words carefully.
“Did you…did you kill them?”
“I did today.” He murmured, refusing to meet your gaze. “Does that upset you?”
You dried his face with the clean cloth, shrugging. “Not as much as it should. From what I understand, you’re a picky eater.” And it was the honest truth; you were surprisingly okay for it for someone who literally puked the last time she even thought about a dead body.
He snorted, his eyes glued somewhere towards the wall. “I don’t usually.” He whispered, almost as if he was afraid of your answer. “I don’t usually kill them—humans at least. Hunters are different, but the ones that are brought in from the enclaves I don’t like to destroy.”
“You have to keep them around as a food source. Right?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s not that. I just feel…they were left behind by their own people. They were sacrificed for their own kind—it’s not right to me to take what little they have left from them.”
“You pity them?”
“I suppose I do.”
You sat back on your heels, staring at the side of his face if only because he wouldn’t meet you head on. It was one of the rare occasions where it appeared that the most fearsome clan leader in all of the continent seemed afraid himself.
It was quiet, if only because you knew he had more to say—more to get off his chest. So you waited until he turned to face you, to ask you the question burning at the back of his throat.
“Do you hate me for it?”
“For killing?”
He nodded and you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. “I have never seen you like this before. What made you show this side of yourself to me?”
“You make me question my entire existence Y/N. I don’t know humans; I don’t understand how they think. I prefer your smile to your face when it lets loose water—“
“When I cry.” You murmured stupidly.
“When you cry, yes. I dread your fear more for your sake than my own. When I picked you up off the street so long ago and brought you back here, I thought I could handle it if you despised me. But now, I don’t think that I could.”
It took your breath away, how honest he was. He was always honest, albeit grumpy and sometimes irritating. But he could say these things to your face; he never hid his feelings from you—his thoughts and his worries. That was more than you could have said for yourself. How did you come to deserve someone like him when you were so….flawed?
“I don’t hate you for being what you are. I’m not afraid of you for killing.” You rolled your tongue along your teeth, trying to find the right words in the hodgepodge whirlwind running through your mind. “I mean, I don’t want to see you feed. I don’t want to watch you kill because I have the spine of a coward and I would probably be afraid in that moment. But of you? Never. Not anymore. Despite what you are, Kim Namjoon you are my…. My….”
“Mate?” He whispered, his eyes searching your face as if it had the answers to questions he had yet to ask.
You shook your head. “Despite what you are, Kim Namjoon, I am yours.”
You couldn’t say he was yours, you didn’t own him. He was the leader of a clan; he was the property of many peoples. He couldn’t give you all of himself like you could give to him. He couldn’t give you the love you wanted, but you could give him yours. It was the truth, a double edged sword that both healed and hurt you at the same time. But that was what it was like to love someone like Kim Namjoon.
And if that was the most you could have then you would run with it until the end of the world.
He cocked his head at you, still trying to decipher the meaning behind your stance. “You told me you were not property.”
You let your shoulders slump, a horrible groan ripping from your throat as you fought back the redness of your ears with every fiber of your being. “For the love of God, you are the densest fucking vampire ever.”
“I don’t understand.”
You snorted. “I know, but that’s okay for now. For now, you have to get better so you can get that pea brain of yours working properly.”
“Hey!”
You laughed, enjoying the way that your laughter enticed his own.
~.~
“Namjoon?” You murmured to the quiet of the room, carefully watching the even rise and falls of his chest. “You awake?”
It was a whisper, but you knew, if he were conscious, he would hear it. Recovery had been hard on him; it was a slow process that took time and effort. But, you felt that he was just now beginning to get to a place where you could be positive that he would be fine. You needed him to be fine before you did this. You needed him to be fine but immobile—because then he couldn’t stop you. This was prime timing for what you were about to do, for the crazy decision your idiot ass was about to make. You knew if you didn’t gun for it now, you would never get a chance like this again.
When he didn’t respond, you slowly, ever so slowly, shifted towards the edge of bed.
Carefully, watching his every waking breath and move, you peeled yourself from the bed without so much as a squeak from the loudest mattress springs on planet earth.
Padding to the door like a kid trying not to wake their mom after curfew, you gave him one last parting glance over your shoulder. “I’ll be back.” You nodded to him as if he could actually hear you--as if that could still the rapid thumping of your heart in your chest. You swore you could feel the beat in your throat.
It was a lie that you wanted to believe. You didn’t know if you’d be back, you didn’t know what was going to happen in the span of a few hours. Maybe you wouldn’t be, but you had to have hope if you wanted your feet to move out into that hallway.
With the door closed gingerly behind you, you took a moment to stare at the wood. It was imperative that you gained your resolve once more before continuing onward.
This was for him; this was to prevent incidents like this. You didn’t want to be to blame if they humans came again, you didn’t want to be the cause of his death. You were absolutely positive that you wouldn’t be able to handle it all a second time.
Seokjin was already standing outside the door, quietly waiting for you to meet his gaze. You could feel the heat of him by your side. Patient but ready.
You were thankful for him now more than ever.
Without a word, you nodded to him and the two of you set off outside.
~.~
You busied yourself by playing with the scalpel on the table next to you instead of focusing on the bright ring lights, on the metal table under your ass and the button up shirt you wore for easier access to your chest. You tried to not think about the fact that soon your organs would be exposed to the air in the shed--hat soon you would be either dead or better for it. But, well, that pretending was becoming increasingly harder to do.
“You did a real good job cleaning this place up, Jin.”
“I can taste your fear, Y/N. There’s no point in hiding it now.” He murmured, his back turned to you as he thoroughly scrubbed at his hands. “But thank you. I had to make sure it would be a proper place to do this.”
“You even fixed the floorboards—I didn’t figure you one for carpentry.”
He chuckled. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“I suppose.” You could see yourself in the polished metal, how haggard your face was, how your expressions belittled your resolve. “If I really start to get afraid, you won’t kill me, right?” It was a horrible squeak that made you hate your rabbit tendencies all the more.
“I won’t. I have far more restraint at a mere human’s fear.” He chuckled. “Yours included.”
“That’s the first time that ‘mere human’ feels like a comforting phrase coming from a vampire.”
He shot you a glance over his shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together. “We don’t have to do this now, Y/N. We don’t have to do this at all. There are other options—other—“
“No.” You shook your head, setting the scalpel down as Seokjin grabbed a pair of latex gloves he had set by the sink. “We’ve come too far and done too much. We’re doing this.”
“Are you sure?”
“100%” You smiled, though it felt more grimace than smile. It seemed to work for Seokjin, if only because you bet he knew by know that you were stubborn and scared and jumped into things head-on without thinking. If you decided that this was what you were going to do, then he had no power to stop you.
He started towards you, towards the little table he’d procured for his medical supplies. His fingers ghosted over the anesthetic he chose—an oral one, since the last thing he needed was further fear attracting others to you. Needles were a hard pass in a compound full of vampires who could taste fear in the air.
He lifted the prepared cup, handing it over to you.
You, for your part, were surprisingly calm as you started down at the liquid—translucent red, like a punch or a fruity drink. It most definitely was not, but one could pretend.
“Don’t make this be the last time I see your face, okay?” Your voice was weak despite the smile in your statement. “And Namjoon…if he—“
“You’re coming back, Y/N.” Seokjin murmured. “I won’t let you die on this table.”
“I know.” You smiled, heaving out the deepest of sighs from your chest. “I think I just wanted to hear you say it.” You swallowed your own spit, raising your little plastic cup to the air. “Cheers.”
And then it was sliding down your throat, calm and cool and oh-so-fucking terrible tasting. It was like they tried to flavor it with cherry to make it easier but artificial cherry tasted like shit. You remembered when you were seven and your mom bought a bag of cherries from the grocery store to try. You remembered her laugh at your face as you realized the medicine you grew up on was a huge lie to the reality of the sweet fruit.
You didn’t know why you were remembering her now.
You wondered if she still thought of you. If you died, would she ever know?
“It’ll take a few minutes to sink in.” Seokjin murmured, his hands gently pushing you back onto the table. “So relax.”
“Okay.” You whispered more to yourself than to him, shaking off the bitter taste in the back of your throat. “Okay.”
It was silent for a moment. That one quick moment of peace. It was refreshing; it was the calm before a shitstorm large enough to tear you in two.
In the span of a few seconds, the table you were on was suddenly knocked over, sending you careening to the floor in a pile of limbs and confusion. In your out-of-body experience, you could hear Seokjin shouting something that you couldn’t make out. You had to squint to even see him past the sudden, blaring reality that you were on the ground.
Apparently, his shouting was directing you to “for the love of god move!” considering he was landing a punch on a freshly teleported Freckles.
It was horrible and gut-wrenching to know that the reason your head was fuzzy was the due to the anesthetic you could still feel coating your throat and that you had about five minutes before you would be gone to the world.
In the chaos and the crushing realization that you would be of zero help, you found that you couldn’t even make a noise.
“J-Jin!” Your voice was soft to your own disoriented ears as you struggled to your feet. “Jin!” It, unfortunately, wasn’t getting any louder with your increased effort.
“Get out of here, Y/N!”
You frowned, brow furrowed as you took one step, then two lurching ones towards the door—you had to get help. You had to do something for Seokjin, somehow—you had to get someone better than the ticking time bomb that was you.
However, your efforts were thwarted almost instantly by the arm that looped around your waist, yanking you back into the enemy vampire’s chest.
“Oh no you don’t.” Theulgiestvampireever hissed.
You thrashed as much as you could, but your body felt five times heavier than it should have and your attempts amounted to absolutely nothing.
With a forceful kick, Freckles knocked Seokjin backwards and to the ground, blood dripping down both of their foreheads. Seokjin looked up at you through the leaking injury running past his eye, his hand enclosing around your ankle in one last, desperate effort to save you.
“Y/N!”
You couldn’t see Freckles’ evil grin, or the look on his face or the way his leg lifted to deliver a final crushing blow. But you did hear his chuckle next to your ear; you did hear the snap of bone as his heel crashed down onto Seokjin’s hand. You didn’t miss the way Seokjin’s head snapped back dangerously when met by the force of Freckle’s knee.
You screamed even though no sound came out.
I’m sorry Namjoon. You thought before reality shifted around you, breaking you into that nauseating place between worlds. The moment, thankfully, only lasted a few long seconds before you were launched into a heap outside of the fencing of Namjoon’s compound.
You gasped for breath, trying to help yourself to your feet to no avail. Your body was now too heavy for you to move it of your own accord and, when you tilted your head to the night sky, you realized that you couldn’t even feel the asphalt digging into the skin of your palms.
The world blurred around you, despite every effort to keep it in focus.
“Now who’s pathetic?” You hated the sound of his voice, hated that it haunted your nightmares and made you fear for Namjoon’s life. He bent down to your form to pick you up as if you were empty, as if you were nothing more than a slightly weighted bag to sling over his shoulder.
“You ready to meet a god, Y/N?” Jisung chuckled.
You grasped for anything to keep you tethered to your surroundings, fists weakly hitting his back. But, it was useless. It was all so useless. Before you could stop it, you were tumbling into unconsciousness.
~.~
When you finally came to, you had a pounding headache and found that were suddenly unable to move at all.
Well, for one, it was hard to move when your body was still stiff from however long you were out cold. Secondly, it really didn’t help that your arms were twisted behind you and bound by zip ties so tight you felt them cutting off circulation. Your legs didn’t fare any better, considering they were each bound to the front legs of the hard, metal chair you found yourself on.
With a groan to the ceiling, you tilted your head to scan your surroundings and get a better grasp of the reality of the situation you were in. If it weren’t for the fact that your brain wasn’t fully awake, you probably would have split in half from the force of your fear.
The room you were in was dilapidated and fading, however, you came to the conclusion that it was once used for education. Desks were piled in a corner, a broken chalkboard littering the floor to your left with bits of crushed chalk and dust. However, the second you fully awoke, you found that you couldn’t get a good look at much else because your attention was immediately drawn to the table set up next to you. Sitting atop of it was a laptop screen, plugged in via extension cord and a surprisingly quiet generator. Jisung sat smugly next to the laptop, lips twisted in a grin that would put nightmare shadows to shame.
But you were too glued to the sight of Namjoon’s face in the video feed provided by the laptop to care about much else.
He was sitting upright in his bedroom. He must be at the vanity. You thought, stupidly.
He, for obvious reasons, was not as happy to see your face as you were to see his.
“Ah! See that Joonie? Looks like she’s coming to.” Jisung chuckled, hopping off of the desk to take slow, predatory strides towards you. You briefly wondered just how long he had been sitting there, watching you and babbling nonsense to Namjoon.
You were still too groggy to feel too much fear at the action. Rather, you met Namjoon’s gaze through the screen and grimaced.
“Shit.” Was the first, creative, intelligent, and breathtaking thing to come out of your mouth.
“Shit indeed.” Jisung laughed, like a fucking clown from a horror movie you once watched with your best friend back behind the walls of the human world. Before you could react, Jisung’s hand was in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat to the coolness of the room.
“Let go of her.” Namjoon growled; the sound was low and scary even to your half-conscious brain. You could see the muscles in his arm flex, his lip curled in a snarl. It would have been attractive were you not in a predicament that had you wanting to shit your pants.
Jisung inhaled, and, even from your awkward angle, you could see the way his eyes glinted with a fresh feed. “Her fear is so fucking good.”
You quickly gathered that this was all just a pissing contest, a power move to bring Namjoon down. All you would ever be was a pawn, a toy to lure him out. Granted, you, on your own weren’t worth much, but it still sickened you to know that it was about all you would be good for. Vampire or human, it didn’t matter. They just wanted you to kill him—and by gods if you were just going to let it happen.
“Let’s play that game we talked about while she was sleeping, okay Joonie?” The nickname sounded absolutely disgusting coming from Jisung’s mouth. If you could, you would have slapped him yourself (and probably instantly regretted it, but you were always more of a do now think later kind of girl).
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
“What game?” You whispered, your breath hitching as Jisung let go of you far too violently for your own taste, travelling somewhere just behind you. You hated how his eyes glowed from your fear once more, your body shivering at the sudden awareness of the temperature of the room around you. “Namjoon—what game?” You looked to him for guidance, but his eyes were cold and rimmed with dark circles. How long was he sitting there, watching you sleep through a screen? “Why are you making him watch this?” You whispered.
Jisung, however, did not have the care for his volume as you did for yours. “Because, dear Y/N, there is no point in torture if it doesn’t rile him up. Pictures would have sufficed but, I am a reaction man. I gotta see his face as it happens, live.” By the time he was finished, the last word were hissed into the shell of your ear. Brought with the enemy vampire, was a blade so big it could have covered your whole face. Jisung twisted it, his gaze never leaving Namjoon’s.
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