#telling me to eat glass and be normal trust its normal to like fiction with bad things im not 12 years old i fear

[ilynpilled]

damn ppl r truly getting insufferable about that poll like it was funny at first but now u all r kinda annoying

[darkdevasofdestruction]

The Idiot ~ Fyodor Dostoevsky

In which the reader is the last Russian princess from our contemporary times and Fyodor is there to watch, observe, analyse and write a novel while being the reader’s sort of guardian/mentor, all while reader finds herself in an impossible, almost-Anna Karenina-like situation that drives her to desperate decisions.

And yes, I’m very much basing this story Dostoevsky’s “The Idiot” novel, Tolstyi’s “Anna Karenina” and Katyusha, both the Russian song, and the “Resurrection” novel from Tolstoy that has Katyusha as an unfortunate, yet important character.

Also, a little nod to our dear Ana Lesko for her song “Anicyka Maya”, which will serve as a cute little nickname for our dear reader, although the song is Romanian, and it’s about a seductive woman. 

Other nicknames will include: Kiska ( kitten ), Zaika ( bunny ), Kroshka ( little one ), Krasotka ( gorgeous ).

I’m not Russian, I don’t know about Russia’s culture, history and language as much as I know about my own, obviously, but as ex-commie & ex-USSR, we still have a shit ton of similarities. Nevertheless, I will try not to get into too many details that will compromise authenticity.

Luxury, glamour, wealth, gold, jewellery, diamonds, class, facades, masks, masquerades, social gatherings, lies, marriages, politics, horses, deals, gambling... These represent some of the few words people from everywhere around would describe the royal family.

Why do some still exist, anyway? Shouldn’t they have just completely disappeared at the same time with the Romanov family? ...Stupid cartoon movies and their resurrection of Anastasia...

Nobody truly cares about these rich rats who worked naught for their wealth, and would never understand the struggle and poverty of the normal citizens of Russia...They just live in their abnormally huge palace, having more servants than the population of Moscow and eat at one meal more than normal people do in one week altogether.

How utterly ridiculous.

Their lives are all perfect, they marry themselves to keep that ridiculous purity and their infinite wealth in the family...How atrocious!  What about charity? Kindness? Altruism? Helping out the common folk?

All these thoughts, and you’d think a very bitter and vindictive, very poor and malicious person came up with, and yet, the reality was rather distorted. 

From the top stair of the palace, in a dark room, sitting on the windowpane, a gorgeous young woman cast her dull eyes over the snowy city and the people hurrying down the roads, hoping to go home before it got too late and cold.

Maybe they were poor and hateful, and rightfully so, she’d say, but perhaps they can also be deemed happier, if they can take into account their freedom...As much as the government provides them, at least - Yet even so, even the poorest person held more freedom than this caged bird, forever trapped and shackled by fate from the second she was born...As if she had any choice, that is.

Perhaps she deserves this treatment, this hatred, this...Manipulation from her own family, who only see her as a political and financial pawn, planning her marriage from the second she first cried into this world... Like a martyr, she will accept all torture and live on, never knowing what ‘living’ truly means, only imagining it by reading all day and all night long, or when she plays the piano one of the many songs she learnt.

As the grandfather clock rang to 7 times to announce dinner time, Y/N dressed in a simple, yet elegant dress, put on a pair of classy black stiletto shoes, and went down to the luxurious dining room, sitting in her usual seat, only for a brunet stranger dressed in white to grace the sight with his unexpected presence.

She didn’t dare speak to him, yet her eyes couldn’t leave his form, no matter how her meek demeanour made her hung her head to avoid showing anything other than her demure expression.

Thankfully, her parents arrived, along with the waiters that served the food, so it saved some of the awkwardness of the unknown.

“Y/N, darling, this man here is Fyodor Dostoevsky. He is here as a writer, wanting to learn more about us and about people in general. As a compromise, he agreed to be your personal guard...Considering the other one was a sacrilege to our dear daughter...What a lecherous man, making advances on you...But, anyway, let us toast to the success of this young man’s writing career!” the mother raised her champagne, and the four of them clinked glasses. “I thank you for the unique opportunity to learn and understand society and people better. May you live a long and prosperous life.” this new stranger held a charming smile on his face, trying to impress and buy everyone’s trust. “Do you have yet any idea about the theme of your novel? Or, perhaps an idea for a title?” the father asked, making the brunet shake his head softly. “No, not yet, unfortunately. I prefer to study hard, and only then, when I am educated enough, to allow the flow of creation to take over me.” this Fyodor nodded in acknowledgement, while the girl kept completely silent for the duration of the dinner, waiting for everything to be over so she could escape back to the little faux haven she created and called ‘safe’. “Y/N, show Mr. Fyodor to your room, he will be sleeping there for now on. The butlers already brought a spare bed there, so it’s alright.” the mother waved her hand dismissively, and the girl could only bow quickly and go back to her room, making sure to point out what each of the rooms represent, before reluctantly inviting him to her bedroom. “Please, make yourself at home, Mr. Dostoevsky. I hope it will be comfortable and to your liking. Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to tell me so we can make your stay as great as possible.” she spoke to him in a soft, meek voice, not daring to make eye contact in any way. “Call me Fyodor, no need for formalities. We are going to room together, might as well become friendly. What don’t you tell me about yourself? Your hobbies, your interests, your dreams, your aspirations.” the brunet paced around the room, observing all of her personal objects, which, turned out, except for jewellery, books, a small, pink Gloxinia, and a pickup with 1920s British vinyls, there was nothing to represent her...Which was, in its own way, an intriguing peculiarity. “I...Like reading, flowers, music...And I wish I could get a dog and learn how to play the violin too. There aren’t many interesting things about me...I’m not special or anything out of the ordinary. I am not allowed to put myself out there in any way, so this is the little I could do to express who I am.” so tried to be as vague as possible, fidgeting on her feet uncomfortably, knowing that the punishment for embarrassing the family would be grave, should it be known. “Hmmm...I see, I see...Ah, you’re a Tolstoy reader, I see. Anna Karenina...Very interesting, yet tragic, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, picking up a book that was supposed to be hidden. “N-No! Don’t take that out of there...Nobody can know I have it. I was strictly forbidden from reading it...Please don’t tell anyone I have this book.” the princess snatched the book from his hands, hiding it further back in the bookshelf. “Ohh~? Why would you not be allowed to read a Russian book? You’d think the Russian princess would be urged to read Russian literature.” he stepped in front of her, picking her chin and raising her head slightly to allow him to look deep into her fawn-like eyes. “Because of the ending...And the controversial decisions Anna made, some of them even contradictory to her own beliefs, and yet, she made her own decisions, at some point in her life. When your fate is decided from before you are born, having opinions is the worst enemy of a puppeteer...Wouldn’t you agree?” she muttered, walking away from him, taking her nightgown and walking towards her bathroom.

This made the man think more about how dysfunctional this supposed perfect royal family actually was. The illusion of a flawless individual, living together, forming a flawless family, a flawless life, in a flawless palace. 

Perhaps facades aren’t as obvious to see through, or understand, for while the parents are completely bland...This girl...So much potential locked away in a timid chest of massive oak wood, embellished with overly expensive jewellery, clearly unwanted. She could be a genius, shining in her happiness, glowing like her dazzling smile, and yet, there she is, eclipsed by chaff, when she could be burning brighter than the morning Sun.

Those parents of hers think he wants to be here and get dazzled by the infinite stream of diamonds that keep flowing around the whole place - And yet, perhaps they are the ones living in mental poverty, considering they believe financial wealth and fame is the sole reason for being alive - To uphold a certain kind of status that they worked naught for, but received hereditary, from one lazy deadbeat to yet another generation of useless people for this society.

They truly are like the plague, incredibly rare nowadays, but completely fatal once you fall grasp to their dark claws that drag you to hell to succumb to their completely fictional utopian world that they create only amongst themselves, as if whatever lives beyond these golden walls is putrid and deserves to rot to pieces.

As his mind wandered farther and farther away down the country, snowy roads he created with his own imagination of thoughts, he heard the bathroom door softly open, and the angelic creature garbed in a thin - Possibly silk, snow white nightgown - Stepped back into their now shared room, and just as before, her demeanour resembled that of a small, frightened fawn, or a bunny.

When you have to deal with such a pure being that could completely shatter, it’s difficult not to impulsively break down all walls around and snatch her away - It’s close to impossible not to attempt to test all existing boundaries and see the limits where she would break...Or, almost, at least. 

However, abstinence makes for a great suspense and greed...You want more...And more...And the more you wait, the harder it is to resist, but the satisfaction you get when the frail creature trusts you enough to eat from your own palm, and you finally claim it as yours...

It’s Heavenly.

“Sweet Dreams, Fyodor.” she spoke softly, putting on a Tchaikovsky vinyl and picking up a book, getting in bed and reading it, the only light still open being a dim lantern on her nightstand. “How would you like to show me around the city tomorrow?” the brunet asked so casually that it shocked the girl enough to drop her book on her lap. “O-Oh...U-Uhmm...I’m not exactly to go out of this place unless it’s for Christmas shopping...I’m sorry I can’t properly do as you wish...” she quickly took her book back, hiding her face to hide her embarrassment and disappointment. “Well, then, what a gorgeous coincidence, isn’t it? In barely two months, Christmas shall come, and then, you can properly show me around, correct?” the man mused, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “..You’re right! My, you’ll get to see the beautiful fairy light and Christmas decorations all around the city! I can’t believe it, you truly chose the perfect time to come here. Oh, and, the ballet, the opera and the national orchestra are going to perform...I believe The Nutcracker is going to play this year...And Traviata. It should be beautiful, don’t you agree?” Y/N asked with a soft smile on her face, sparks gleaming in her eyes, and for the first time since he’s met her, it felt like she was finally alive. “Yes, yes, I would have to agree. And if you are there with me, the experience will be even better.” he hummed, teasing the poor girl who had no idea what else to say to such bold affirmations. “O-Oh...W-Well...Th-Thank you...I-I think...Your presence there will also make the going out more interesting...And nice.” she offered a comeback that pleased the man well enough. “Good night to you as well, Printsessa.”

What a lovely young woman, he thought, as he closed his eyes and let his mind fly at different aspects of life and of humanity, trying to decipher each and every person he met that day and wondering if his assumptions were correct, as they always are.

Morning came by faster than expected as a shy ray of of Sun creeped inside the room through the window, but Fyodor was already awake, writing at the desk rather rapidly - Most likely, he had some inspiration hitting him, so he proceeded to pour out his conflicting thoughts on the paper, all while stealing a peek from time to time at the girl sleeping peacefully, almost as if she was a Disney Princess.

The way the soft light caressed her face had him take the stray streak of h/c hair and pull it back so it won’t tickle her awake, while also being allowed to watch her peacefully inhale and exhale, a small smile on her face...Perhaps she was having a beautiful dream? Was that why she told him to have sweet dreams? Were her dreams her only lovely escape from this horrible reality she was forced to live in?

There were so many mysteries yet to be unveiled, but all in due time, as Fyodor noticed the gentle flutter of her lashes, and with a grace only reserved to a Swan Princess, she raised and stretched with a sweet hum, and the brunet man watched as his eyes felt absolutely blessed seeing such a beauty...

If people complained that Disney Princesses weren’t relatable, since they have messy hair when they wake up, just like Anna, they clearly haven’t seen how perfect Y/N looks, even as she blinks her sleepiness away.

“I see you slept well, Printsessa. Good morning.” she heard him speak, and she noticed it wasn’t as en garde and...It almost seemed...Pleased to see her. “Fyodor...You woke up before me. You should have woke me up. Please wake me up next time, I wouldn’t want you to feel lonely or upset. This place is like a piranha tank...Thread carefully, otherwise, you’re like a little animal who fell in.” she quickly got up, rushing through her daily routine so she could be by his side, not only because her parents assigned her to that, but also because this Dostoevsky man is the only little thing that could rip her out of her completely dull routine and show her a little bit of insight into what could be something out of her imagination entirely. “Aww, the little songbird wishes to spend time with me, how adorable. Very well, Printsessa, what is it that you want to do today? My job here is to observe and write, after all.” he asked, crossing one leg over the other, resting his chin on his fist, watching her with intense interest. “Oh, well, I have to practice the piano today, but other than that, I have nothing in my schedule.” she explained, guiding him to the music room that very much resembled a whole orchestra surrounding a place - Not too small, yet not too big either - Meant for ballroom dancing. “I bet the national orchestra isn’t as fancy as this place is.” he mused, walking up to the cello and tracing his fingertips across the chords. “...Do you know how to play it?” she asked, walking up to him, having the curiosity of a baby fawn exploring the world. “Would you like to hear?” he asked, sitting on the chair and expertly hugging the cello, he grabbed the bow and teased the girl with a mischievous look in his gleaming purple eyes. “Oh, yes, please, if it’s not too much to ask! It would be absolutely splendid.” Y/N clasped her hands together, grinning widely as she stepped a few feet away to give him enough space so he could start playing. “It would be my pleasure, Printsessa.” and with the nod of his head, he started playing the famous Sugar plum fairy song, making the girl gasp in surprise at how gorgeous it sounded.

She crouched to reach the perfect eye view of the bow gliding along the chords, her mouth slightly agape and she gazed with absolute wonder, not even realising when the song was over, for she was much too mesmerised.

“Well, Printsessa, how did you like it?” he rested his arms on the curves of the cello, leaning forwards for a better look at her. “That was better than even our national cello player! It was absolutely stunning, woaw...Just...You left me speechless! You’re...You’re...You are...Perfectly splendid!” she clapped for him rapidly and incredibly enthusiastic, making him chuckle in amusement at her cuteness. “Why, thank you, Printsessa. How about you entertain me now, little Anicyka Maya?” he carefully put the Cello in its place, stepping in front of her and caressing her porcelain skin, quenching his thirst for discovery by seeing her rosy cheeks. “Well...I can’t say I’m anywhere as great as you are...But, sure. I hope you will like it.” she looked down, fidgeting with her fingers as she hurried timidly to the piano, and taking a deep breath, cracking her fingers, she liter her fingers skillfully dance over the keys, as her voice followed every word of the song called “Katyusha”. However, she wasn’t expecting him to applaud and whistle to her, congratulating her for being such a beautiful nightingale. “You clearly underestimate your hard work and talent. Perhaps we should play together one day. I’m sure it would put a smile on your parents’ faces.” Fyodor bowed to kiss Y/N’s hand, only to hear the door opening. “Yes, Mr. Fyodor, we would quite like to hear the two of you dueting together. Since Y/N will have to perform both dance and a song at the piano, as a Christmas tradition, it will show how much she’s improved...If at all. I have to tell you the truth, Mr. Fyodor, over the past few years, she has been exceptionally disappointing...Well, perhaps you coming here will prove to give her a jolt in the right direction.” Y/N’s mother came out of nowhere in the music room, almost as if she was stalking the pair, and Fyodor could see how the Princess’ behaviour changed 180 degrees, and from the excitable and lively young girl, she went back to hide in her guarded shell, trying to protect herself from the numerous blows everyone throws her way.

And just as he expected, once they started playing, despite throwing in one or two intentional mistakes, while she had none of her own, the mother reprimanded her daughter, while praising him. He thought, at first, this was going to be some kind of tough love encouragement and determination she was trying to give the girl, but truly, it was nothing more than unrealistic dreams of an already flawless performance.

This family was nowhere close to being the perfect, or the most loving one, that was without a doubt. But being so horrible to your own daughter, humiliating her in front of a complete stranger, making her tremble softly while trying her best to keep herself from bursting into sobbing fits, was a whole different kind of cruel and unnecessary malice.

For some reason, Fyodor felt a certain kind of warmth in his chest...But not the same kind of warmth he feels when he is around Y/N, but something...Similar to fury. To rage. He was sure he never felt such a personal sort of offense, despite not being him that was belittled.

A terrifying sort of justice bubbled inside him, and he smirked, thinking about just one sole thing.

Crime and Punishment.

Fyodor hoped dearly that it would be only the maternal figure that was the problem, yet it seemed to be much worse, and the toxicity levels that kept vibing all over the place seemed to be equivalent to that of Chernobyl at the time of the explosion.

All throughout the week, he noticed the dirty looks all the staff was giving the Princess, possibly because she was being a shy and quiet pushover...But it went completely beyond his understanding how these servants would even dare be so rude to her, considering she is always so sweet to them, always forgives their mistakes and shares her whole allowance with them in equal parts...

But they complain it’s not enough. They complain others get more, or less, but clearly, they don’t care about that, they just want more and more money...They are greedy jackals who don’t care about the life or soul of a poor little lady who just wants to be happy...

But perhaps happiness isn’t meant for royalty.

A week until Christmas, and Fyodor was ready with the quick draft, and he left it on the desk for Y/N to read, and he couldn’t help but admire and drink in each and every emotion she would express on her lovely face with every word she read, every action, every chapter that stirred more and more conflicting feelings and thoughts battling together - Conflicts that she was trying so hard to hide, no doubt feeling his burning, hawk-like stare on her, analysing her as if she was a new specimen under a microscope.

She was great at hiding what she truly felt, yet her eyes betrayed her inner self, the sparkling of nostalgia and sadness crawling out, shrieking at the top of her lungs to be discovered and taken out of this well of darkness she was drowning in - She wanted to be saved, she was at her breaking point, and clearly, she was afraid. 

Afraid of life. Afraid of people. Afraid of her family. Afraid of this society. Afraid her own self. Afraid of her actions.

And most of all.

She was afraid of spiritual, mental and emotional imprisonment.

As Christmas approached with rapid footsteps, Fyodor could notice how Y/N stiffer, more silent, flinching more, keeping herself in check, alone, barely speaking to anyone...Clearly, she was being stressed out and afraid of the consequences of screwing up anything.

Perhaps, the problem here was the fatalist and completely out of her control destiny she was thrown in, and she knew from the very beginning that, no matter how flawless her performance was, she would still be reprimanded and punished, so she resigned herself to this kind of treatment...The same as every year.

“It’s so beautiful outside...And it’s snowing...! So soft and cold...It’s almost numbing you entirely, but the beauty of Christmas still melts down even the most frozen of hearts.” she spoke with such sadness dripping from her tongue, that Fyodor felt the need to take his fur hat and put it on her head before taking a hold of both of her hands, rubbing them together and kissing her knuckles. “It’s not the day or the decorations that are supposed to move a person, but the kindness and altruism of people. From what I’ve seen in the past weeks, the only consistency in this place is the beauty of your heart and the cruelty of everyone else that keep eclipsing you. You deserve better than this, kroshka.” the man spoke simply, waiting to see the way she’d react. “...I didn’t choose this life, nor did it choose me, yet here I am, trying to keep my head above the water in a whirlpool. I have all my life planned and written ahead of me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. From the very beginning, since before I was even born, they knew they will sell me out to some old, rich man, just so they could benefit, but they cared naught about my well-being, as long as I could keep him entertained in any way possible. The least I can do is try to enjoy the little things...Even if they are nothing more than just that...Little things.” she admits to him, taking away her hands and holding them to her chest, too afraid to trust her own heart. “You let the servants make a mockery out of your kindness. You let your family humiliate you in front of everyone. You let common folk bash you, even if you tip them greatly...Tell me, krasotka, have you read the draft to my book yet?” they continued to stroll down the cobbled streets, looking up at the snowflakes gently dancing in the light of the lamposts, as Fyodor carried most of her shopping bags that held Christmas gifts for everyone but herself. “Yes...I did...But I did not finish it. I was much too afraid to read the ending of it.” she nodded to him, biting her lip nervously. “Afraid? Why ever would you be afraid of reading some words made of ink on a piece of paper?” the man frowned in confusion and interest, hearing such a peculiarity of an answer. “Because...Because I know that Prince Myshkin actually represents me...And how life treats me...So I’m afraid the ending will hint to Anna Karenina’s ending...And I don’t want that. I don’t...That’s why I’m afraid...I’m scared that...I’m scared that I won’t be able to endure this madness anymore, and sooner, rather than later, I will shatter into an unrecognisable version of myself that not even I will decipher...And I will do scary things that I would otherwise be afraid of even thinking about. You know I read the book, I wouldn’t put it past you to tease me like that.” she smiled ironically, shaking her head to stop herself from shuddering at such a dreadful thought. “Congratulations, Printsessa, you are surely insightful. However, I must advise you to read it, and keep in mind that you are not entirely wrong in your thinking. While the ending isn’t identical to Tolstoy’s novel, it isn’t on the complete opposite spectrum either. What you read is one of the possible outcomes of your life, should you choose to remain a passive onlooker and let everyone control you, like a little, pretty doll. Should you, however, choose to take fate into your own hands and finally make your first choice of your life...I can promise you, you are going to be much happier.” Fyodor kissed her forehead before leading her back to the palace so she could take the day off...For tomorrow, she must perform.

But the author wasn’t lying, Y/N realised as she spent the last hours past curfew to finish the book, and she realised that while Myshkin didn’t kill himself, he was still dead inside, and just like the catatonic state he was stuck into, she has been living a life of complete comatose herself.  Fyodor was right all along - A life without choices is not a life, nor is it one without freedom and happiness - And maybe, for the first time in her life, she would make the most difficult decision the universe threw at her, and that was to choose between Duty and Happiness, something every royal member, especially women all over the world, who were seen as nothing more than political and decorative objects meant to create heirs and nothing more, had to pick, and dutifully chose to sacrifice themselves to keep the family and the nobility going.

But not anymore....

“You look beautiful today, my little zaika. This velvet colour of your dress, the way it highlights you stunning silhouette...And this jewellery...And your hair and make up...You are above and beyond the most beautiful person to ever grace this life. How are you going to enchant us today?” Fyodor pat down his white suit so he would look completely impeccable...Or, perfectly splendid, as Y/N would say. “Does it truly matter, in the end? Nobody but you will pay attention, and at the end of the day, I will only hear critiques. It’s the same every year, so there is no point in bothering to stand out, have any particularity or give a name. It just...Is. So...Let me get this over with so I can go to my room and pretend this day never happened...Again.” she muttered, hooking her arm to his, entering the big ballroom together.

A ton of people were there, not only family, but enough family ‘friends’, all of them incredibly rich, with a combined fortune great enough to buy the whole Russia somehow...And all eyes were on her. She didn’t mind. She was used to the nervousness and the either critical or lustful stares she received - But only during these kinds of events, and because she was a Princess, otherwise nobody would have cared about her existence or her feelings...

Nobody...Except for Fyodor.

Until the time of his arrival, nobody cared about her, nor did they bother trying to understand or talk to her, and yet, here he was, always by her side, and frankly, she fell in love with him. She, for the first time in her life, cared naught about everything surrounding her, and she thought solely about him and their time spent together. That is all that mattered to her.

So, with that in mind, and a warm heart, she performed the Waltz of Flowers flawlessly at the piano, along with a few other songs, adding some festive ones. Fyodor was absolutely captivated by the spells she put on people whenever she radiated with such pure gentleness, just like Christmas’ true angel.

Her fingers glided so gracefully over the keys, as she hummed along the music, not even bothering to look at the sheet, for she new everything by heart - But somehow, it all sounded even more magical than before, and nobody could tell why.

But Fyodor knew, and he smiled, figuring out her trick. And he was going to call her out for that when this whole charade was over.  But for now, he allowed himself to enjoy bathing in her radiating warmth, for she was shining brighter than the Sun itself.

By the time she finished her little repertoire, she did a pretty courtesy and walked to the man in the white suit, taking a glass of red wine and sipping from it, that gentle smile never leaving her face.

They exchanged no words, but there was no need for that, as the look in their eyes spoke more than anything else, and they danced the night away, together, in graceful and intimate waltzes, or swaying together, keeping their hearts glued together, beating in sync and feeling each other’s heat.

She might not have wanted to end up like Karenina, but she wasn’t too far away from her situation, and she knew very well, should she leave with this man, she was going to break down every rule, and find an identity for herself, after all these years.

But happiness is emphemeral in the life of a Princess, and just before the Christmas Ball ended, her parents dragged her to the table of this old man, so they would share gifts. This old man, who so happened to be the man chosen to be her future husband, and had fewer hairs on his head and teeth in his mouth than her age.

Most of the gifts were pretty basic - Jewellery for women, cigars, fedoras, watches for men...But for her...She received some of he oddest gifts so far - And yet, she thought life couldn’t surprise her anymore.

Several little outfits, fit for babies, were neatly folded in all boxes, sans one - The sole box being a small, velvet box, which revealed a sapphire ring that expressed the definite bond of marriage that must be officiated very soon, through papers and a church ceremony.

Frozen was the clock, frozen was the time, and frozen was life itself, for the shock was great - Being put on the spot is scarier than the anticipation and fear of venturing into the unknown - Yet here she was, with her supposed fossil of a husband, with several babies promised to be born, and a very angry author, watching the disgusting exchange of pleasantries between the elder people.

He noticed Y/N doing a little courtesy, excusing herself with a nervous smile, and rushing out of the ballroom, the clicks of her elegant heels giving away her location at all time. Following her, he saw her on the edge of the rood, barefoot, her back to the empty space, as she hummed, looking up at the clouds pouring snow, and swaying to her tippy toes occasionally.

“You sure like the feeling of being alive, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be staying there after being faced with such a disgusting situation.” he pointed out, clasping his hands behind his back and carefully stepped towards her. “Life is full of surprises. But it is not called life, unless you have a say in the paths that you go down by. Today, I realised what I have to do in order to achieve true bliss and happiness...Something ethereal, although utopian in its quintessence. I have to make a choice. And right now, I’m making it.” she smiled, extending her arms to the side, resembling a Goddess, as a few stray tears streamed down her face - But they were tears of relief, not of fear, anxiety of depression. She was happy. “You said you didn’t want to choose the path of Karenina, nor of Myshkin, and yet, there you are, on the brink of death, as the way to show that you are no longer a caged bird. Is it truly worth it, in the end?” Fyodor asked, frowning at the delusional words she was spewing. “Death is but the beginning of a new adventure, and with me falling, I will find out what freedom is, unlike all the other Princesses before me. It is not death I’m choosing, nor will I regret it as soon as I step into this free fall hazard, like Karenina, and, as you can see, I chose to wake up from my catatonic state, unlike Myshkin. I know what awaits me as soon as I reach the ground...But do you?” Y/N hummed in amusement, watching the conflict painted all over his face - And it was for the first time that Fyodor showed such confusion and inner turmoil, that much was obvious to her. “Stop this, Y/N, I don’t understand your reasoning, but don’t kill yourse- “ but he couldn’t finish his sentence, for the girl uttered just a few words - Words that changed even the rotation of the Earth around the Sun - And as she pushed herself on the tips of her toes, she embraced the cold wind of Winter being her guide down to the ground, as she watched the snowflakes following her down.

And she smiled.

Because love won, and life won, and she knew she chose correct - These weren’t the times to choose everyone else over herself anymore, and nor is she a saint, a martyr, an angel, or some perfect Christian role model.  She was just a woman thirsting for happiness and for the tangible sensation of life and of flying, and with this jump, she got completely wasted.

The secure embrace of a white angel made sure she lived for another day, but not quite, for her guardian angel jumped to save her, yet had no idea himself that he wasn’t the only special one, after all, and just as they were going to reach the ground, time seemed to stop, and they reached the ground gracefully and softly, like two linked feathers.

She lay down on the crystal blanket of snow, laughing mirthfully, almost with a childlike charm, as her long hair was sprawled all over her, and Fyodor’s arms were fiercely holding her, and he looked down at her, his eyes wide in understanding.

“I didn’t choose death. I chose life. I chose love...I chose you, and I chose me. I knew you had an ability too, and that you were confident in it, so I was sure that, should you choose to, you could jump from the roof of the palace to save me - Which you did. I never really have the opportunity to use my ability, but it’s rather useful in some situations, if I can say so myself. So, by the way you’d respond to my feelings and actions, I’d know whether I chose right or not...I think we both know the answer now, don’t we?” she grinned mischievously, extending a hand to his face to caress it gently. “That’s the most idiotic, most reckless thing anyone has ever one...And yet, you strategised everything, as if we were pieces in a game of chess. How did you get the courage to reach such a conclusion?” his voice was low, like a murmur, trying to understand her impossible, labyrinthine mind. “Life offered me a Christmas gift today, and that was serendipity, so, I used it. Everything else was a perfect strategy of a game of chess I played myself - The White King versus the Black King - And, was far as my luck and the universe brought about, I believe I won. But you must still answer back, otherwise, the magic will vanish.” Fyodor noticed a smirk growing on her face - One that somehow resembled his, and he almost felt conflicted seeing her mimicking him in his demeanour, in a way...But he also felt incredibly proud. “I cannot take you with me, Y/N. The part I walk is dangerous, it could even be fatal, and I would rather you not walk down a boulevard of broken dreams. You just now achieved happiness, don’t throw it out of the window. It a world full of crimes, I choose to be both the justiciar and the executioner of the unworthy. In a world of crime, I shall inflict punishment upon the evil-doers and paint this world red with the blood of the guilty.” he wanted her, he truly didn’t want to leave without her, nor did he want to leave her alone, here, with these hyenas, but could he really have it in his heart to endanger her so? “Fyodor, my darling, it matters naught for me whether I live or die, as long as the journey is by your side, and I’m not shackled anymore. I want to see, I want to hear, I want to touch, I want to taste, I want to smell, I want to learn. Everything. Without exception. There is a whole world out there, open, waiting to be explored and unveiled, and I shall be its explorer. As long as I have you by my side, I will surely be fearless. Being a hero, being a villain, or anything in between is of no concern for me...However, I cannot deny that I would be rather...Interested in seeing you deliver the sentence down to...Some specific people.” she giggled, winking at him, as she obviously hinted towards her kin and the unlimited amount of gossips she has heard about so many people, over the years.

With a wide smirk on his face, Fyodor Dostoevsky helped Princess Y/N on her feet and gave her a passionate, fire-like kiss, before picking her up bridal style and making their way to her room, so she would start packing and leave at the earliest convenience.

There may still be a bit of official work to do at the palace, and as his ability is called, there is no crime without punishment, he was going to make sure of that. Until then, there was one thing certain, and one alone, that was going to guide the both of them to a path of exciting uncertainty and thrill.

“I love you, my dear Y/N.”

[curly-bangtan]

A Drop of Heaven I: Sir(e)  (M)

[Series Masterlist]

Pairing: ot7 x reader // this chapter: Namjoon x reader, some Jimin x reader

Series summary: Seven vampires have secretly been roaming the darks of your world for millennia. Each brother selects a Feed who becomes supernaturally bound to him, whose blood will be fed on until their inevitable mortal death. They have spent their eternity hunting for the exorbitant rarity that is angel blood - the most heavenly of food for vampires that fuel them with desire, lust and satiety. So what happens when they all find you, the first angel-blooded being they’ve encountered in two centuries?

Genre: vampire au, poly au, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (e2l)

Warnings in this chapter: non-consensual blood drinking, mentions of death and abuse, obv blood and gore, very light smut, dry humping, ass grinding, dom!Namjoon is an ass man wbk, almost everyone being a prick, oc and Namjoon hating each other but then get confused

Word count: 9.6k

!Disclaimer!: As I’ve said before, I am not glorifying any type of objectification or abuse, and this has nothing to do with gender at all. This is meant to depict a fictional dynamic between vampire and Feed which obviously does not apply to a non-supernatural context in which case this would be considered abuse and toxic. I really hope this doesn’t offend/trigger anyone!! If you get confused, feel free to ask questions.

[prelude, i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii, epilogue]

❦

Death feels…

Alive.

The hum of classical music and hushed low voices permeate your ears as your senses gradually seep back to you. Faint darkness cloaks your vision. Your chest rises and falls in a soft slow rhythm. You’re breathing. Your heart is beating. You feel alleviated from the pain you’re so accustomed to. You feel revitalised.

You feel alive.

So this is the so-called Afterlife philosophers spend decades pondering and debating. How peculiar.

You try to lift your finger and find it moving at your will, the action feeling oddly smooth and effortless. Fabric brushes your skin, and in fact, a silk material envelops your body. Are you on a bed?

When your eyelids begin to flutter in attempt to open, the voices around you silence eerily in unison. You see a red-gold light at first, illuminating the dark room you find yourself in, the ceiling of which void-black. In your periphery, dim candles are flickering on your two sides, the warm glow of which spilling onto the lavish satin bed you lay atop, its size worthy for kings to sleep in.

Then something violently strong snaps within you, a string, a cord, of sorts. The sensation is not physical, it’s beyond that; it feels as though something has tied itself around your soul and is tugging at you towards it. This intensity is overwhelming, eating at your mind and core, urging you to follow this nexus that tightens its hold around you.

You sit up, gasping.

And face seven men.

Each the epitome of beauty in their own right. Each an ethereal glaze washing over them. Each staring at you with the most curious glint in their eyes.

No, not curious. Hungry.

“I…” Your brain is scattered from its sense. Where are you? Who are they? Are you dead or alive or both? “What…?” Coherent thoughts fail to form in your head and at your lips, the question dangles in the air like a weak sigh.

Processing as much as you can, you take a moment to examine the seven standing around the bed in front of you.

The one directly in front of you regards you with crossed arms, dressed in a suit of all black, mousy grey-brown hair swept neatly. When you meet his eyes, a chill shoots down your back for his irises have the faintest crimson glow to them. But what is more terrifying is not the strange hue of his eyes, but the way they are pinned at you as if he could stare into your soul and read your every single secret. There is an air of power and superiority that exudes from his tall stance. You’re beginning to think that this definitely isn’t heaven and he definitely isn’t an angel.

On his left is a pink-haired man, delicate to look at, soft features painting his handsome face. His eyes are kind but unreadable, juxtaposing the harshness of the one beside him. His shoulders are board, though he possesses no intimidation towards you. Something about him is so aesthetically soothing, magical to look at.

On the other side of the stranger in the middle slouches a smaller man, a bored expression worn on his face with his cheek bitten inside his mouth. His spiky head of hair so dark you can almost hear it whisper lullabies of the devil. When he looks at you, you feel him emanate a dangerous fury; it’s an ancient deep-rooted type of evil. Now, a flood of fear finally dawns on you.

Next to him, a dimpled grin greets you. Immediately you sense a rush of security at his warm expression, though you can’t help but think it’s a deceiving facade to lull you into his snare. There is a darkness lurking behind his crescent eyes that you don’t completely trust. He ruffles his hand through his wine red tufts, smile not once faltering in the most uncanny manner.

Standing opposite the bed from him is a devilishly handsome blonde boy, though you’re not sure if ‘boy’ is quite the right word when his lips quirk up at you mysteriously. He’s dressed luxuriously, like he’s some foreign prince, standing tall and proud yet undecipherable. An unknown force draws you to him, his beauty beckoning you like a lasso. When he brushes his thumb under his lip, you shudder.

Another boy approaches you, this one so stunning you jump back at his advance. “How are you feeling? Better?” As he perches on the side of the bed a hand’s reach away from you, you pause to take in this face wholly. Waves of silver sprouting from his head, mesmerisingly angular eyes staring intently into yours, a small button nose and plump red lips. It’s a frightening type of beauty.

Gulping as you find yourself out of air from the overwhelmingly powerful presence in the room, you force yourself to nod. You only realise now that you are changed into a clean cream cotton dress.

In the dark far corner, the last man leans against the wall, observing with a guarded, austere demeanour. You can’t see him well in the shadow, but you see the gloss of his long black curls flowing around his clenched jaw. He does not say anything, does not appear to have the intention of joining the others gathered around you. Just silently watching.

These seven men… No, not men.

Phantasmal unearthly creatures.

Because there is no way that these towering bodies and other-worldly faces are mere mortals.

“Who are you?” Your voice is a croaky whisper courtesy to your chokingly dry throat.

“The answer to that is worth an eternity, love.” The boy sat beside you smirks, brushing his silver locks to one side. “I’m afraid you don’t want to find out.”

Your mind is whizzing, trying to piece together your surroundings, these strangers leering at you almost lasciviously as if you’re some zoo animal. Trying to grasp at your last memories, you remember the scenes in flashes. His fist, her cries, blooming agony, then darkness.

A blood-curdling realisation hits you.

You’re not dead.

You can’t be dead. You’re breathing, blinking, moving. You’re very much alive. And tragically so.

“Where is she?” You make the move to get off this bed but is blocked by the gorgeous blonde. A wolf wearing sheepskin, you wager.

Silence dangles in the air like a man hanging from a noose, the familiar gnaw of fear clenching your chest so tightly you don’t think you’re breathing. Then, “She’s dead.”

Those words are flung at you like a piece of rag but hit you like an arrow through the heart. Spoken by none other than the frowning man in the middle, arms crossed and eyeing you with callous indifference as if he hadn’t just announced the death of your younger sister.

You expect tears to erupt from your eyes but they don’t, you want to scream your devastation and anger at the world but you don’t. Everything goes still, calm, inert. Almost as if you can’t feel anything. The pain in your heart spreads like cracking glass torturously slowly, infecting your every fibre with a bleak shadow.

The mattress dips as Silver clambers closer to you and strokes your cheek gently. His touch ice cold, yet nothing compared to the numbness of your mind, empty, devoid of all feeling.

“I’m sorry, don’t be sad.”

Don’t be sad.

You let out a breath that would’ve been a laugh if you currently had the capacity for emotion.

“Enough of this shit, just cut to the chase and tell her everything she needs to know so we can get on with it, Namjoon.” Impatient and hostile, the one with black hair and a permanent scowl scoffs.

Namjoon, standing out amongst the seven not in looks but in confidence and stature, is their leader, you suppose. When he speaks again, you’re not surprised that he is. His tone is authoritative, articulate, a severe presence that demands attention. Almost enough to make you forget about the grief you’re bottling up for one second.

“What is your name, girl?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, listen to me very closely as I won’t repeat myself. We seven brothers hereby are siring you as our Feed, all seven of us. You will now be bound to us until death shows you mercy and lifts your curse that tethers you to us eternally. Forget your past life because you shall reside here in our manor for the rest of your mortal life for us to drink your blood.

“Under normal circumstances, each of us possesses one Feed each, but in your case, we shall distribute you equally amongst ourselves. There are seven days in a week which falls perfectly align with our arrangement. On Monday, you shall be my Feed, Tuesday, Seokjin, Wednesday, Yoongi, Thursday, Hoseok, Friday, Jimin, Saturday, Taehyung and finally Sunday, Jungkook. You shall be completely obedient to your sire of the day and your sire only, and in return we shall feed on you only on the day of which you belong to us. Due to the vigorous frequency at which you are being fed on, we have agreed to feed as lightly as possible to sustain you. If need be, you will be healed with our blood.

“You shall refer to me as Sir and only Sir; the others will decide the dynamic they wish to share with you. Do not for a second forget that you are our subjugate, our inferior and our prey. The magic that yields you to us is powerful, thus you have no choice in this matter. Many before you have tried to defy during their early days as a Feed only to quickly fail and fall to submission as they should. Heed this as your only warning.

“Do you or do you not understand, Y/N?” When he finishes, he juts his chin high at you and sucks in the meat of his cheeks between his jaws.

The fire poker that is his glare sears into you, sizzling its mark into your pit of dread. None of what he just said makes an ounce of sense to you, and it’s definitely not because of your dazed state from your newly-regained consciousness.

Just who does this man think he is? And what in ten Hells is he going on about?

“No. I don’t fucking understand.”

Shock registers in all their eyes when you spit your bitter dispute at Namjoon. You swear there’s a glint of twisted excitement sparking from the redhead.

“I’m afraid you will have to repeat yourself. Sir.” You continue when none of them utters a syllable. “First, you tell me my sister is dead. I believe you. Then you’re spouting some speech about how I’m ‘sired’ to you all and you’re going to drink my blood every day of the week because I belong to you? Is this some sort of cult or is this Hell?” Looking around at them, they all seem taken aback by your outburst, stunned.

“Oh my… This one is going to be fun.” The blonde boy mirths at you, tongue gliding over his row of pearly teeth. It is now that you notice the sharp point of his fangs in place of his canines. You freeze.

“Isn’t she? I’m going to go mad waiting until Thursday. Can I have a bite right now? Just a drop so I know her taste?” He is bouncing on his toes, thrilled by the anticipation.

“Hoseok, hush.” Namjoon silences the boy’s fervour before turning to you. “Y/N, if you insist on defiance, I promise you endless suffering. Let me clear your confusion. We are vampires that rely on blood as our food. You are our chosen victim, our Feed. The supernatural sire bond will eventually click into place between you and each one of us, forcing a mutual loyalty between Vampire and Feed. This will be clearer as the days go on. I suggest you-”

“Right, vampires.” You interrupt before he can continue his nonsense. How did you end up in some vampire-worshipping cult? “If you guys are vampires, then I’m a freaking angel. You are all insane. I’m leaving, goodbye.”

Frantically crawling off the bed, you head in the direction of the door. If your sister is really dead, then what happened to your uncle? You hope he’s dead too. Either way, you have no home to return to, but still you need to escape these men for your own sake. You can’t escape one lunatic only to end up in the lair of seven more.

But before you could even step your bare foot off the bed onto the wooden floor, frozen fingers snake around your wrist like a venomous serpent and lock you in its clasp.

“You are an angel, kind of.” Hoseok chuckles and tugs you back onto the bed, you’re unduly aware of how close he is hovering over you.

“You’re also dumb as fuck if you think you can leave, did you not hear everything he just said?” The sourpuss beside him shoves at your shoulder not at all lightly until you sink onto the mattress on your back. “You couldn’t leave us even if you tried.”

“No need to be so rough on her, Yoongi, she’s confused.” Brows pinched in disapproval, the pink-haired man chastises softly, and to your surprise, this Yoongi just scowls but dips his head.

Pink seems to be kind, the only one here that appeals to your plight apparently, so you scramble on your knees over to his side for your second attempt to escape. But his gentle hand reaches out to stop you, hand raised inches away from your chest, preventing you from moving forward and slipping past him. There’s a guilt in his eyes that you cannot comprehend. Why can’t he let you leave if he is sympathetic towards you?

“She still doesn’t get it, hyung.” The beautiful blonde boy on your other side shakes his head with a pernicious smile. “We need to show her.” His appearance is a trap, you know that with absolute certainty as you look into the renaissance painting that is his face. Yet you cannot help the attraction that sings you towards him as he draws his finger under your chin, guiding you closer into him.

He looks over to Namjoon as if for approval, who only stares at the scene of him luring you into his grasp with an unreadable expression. At the lack of disagreement from others, his finger now traces down to your neck, wandering over your heavy pulse. You gulp.

“Taehyung…” Someone warns, yet the delirious state you’re in at the hands of this boy’s enchantment does not allow you to recognise who.

His eyes are the palest of blues, a cloudless summer day with a soft seaside breeze. Your gaze follows his tongue wetting his lips, then trailing his sharp teeth. How do his fangs look so real? They oddly suit him, painting a wild beastly image of him that is concealed by his soft innocent features until he opens his mouth to flash his whites. You’ve never seen someone as good looking as him. As all of them.

Seductively, Taehyung leans into your neck and buries his nose in your scent. When he sucks in sharply, you sense his craving, his arousal. You’re frozen in his clutch as his hand circles behind you so delicately, unsure of what to do with yourself, unsure of what he’ll do with you. Lips tenderly caressing your jugular, you shut your eyes, intoxicated by his touch.

“Left neck is mine.” He growls, the aggressiveness of which surprises you so much so that the words he speaks don’t manifest its meaning to you at first.

Then a scorching hot pain explodes in your neck, so violent that you shriek out and try to twist away. But something is latched onto you like a hook, two hooks in fact. When your open your eyes, you realise that it’s his teeth that are sunken inch deep into your neck, penetrating a dizzying agony into your whole body. After a still second, you begin to feel a pressure pulling out your blood like a vacuum. A tear trickles out the corner of your eye at the burning sensation.

What the fuck?

He is… drinking your blood.

You try to push him off but a strange force like phantom hands bind your muscles and prevent you from acting on your will.

The magic that yields you to us is powerful, you have no choice in this matter.

Holy shit, Namjoon was completely serious. These people aren’t a brainwashed cult, they’re actually vampires.

Years of abuse, all the wounds you’ve endured, are nothing compared to the agony embedded deep in your neck right now. Absolutely nothing. Streams of scarlet flow down your garment like a spillage of wine, dark and thick and an indulgence to the tongue. You’re helplessly grappling on Taehyung’s shirt, tugging him towards you rather than shoving him away. This supernatural spell, or whatever the fuck it is, is overriding and going against your every intention to escape.

Vision hazy, you vaguely make out the other faces watching you struggle under Taehyung’s fangs. And when you think this nightmare could not get more harrowing, you notice a change in their eyes. By that, you do not mean a shift in expression, a frown or a squint. It is an actual physical transformation: the black of their pupils incrementally diffusing into their irises like a drop of watercolour, then the darkness spills over to the whites of their eyes until they are wholly onyx clouds.

“Taehyung.” Namjoon demands, and a sigh of relief escapes you as the sucking in your vein ceases. But rather than telling him to stop, he simply orders, “Share.”

Share? Share your blood?

Then the rest of the five prowl to gather around you, and despite your vertigo, you will never forget how monstrous they look. Eyes black as void, ivory fangs elongating like unsheathing claws, nostrils flaring at the scent of your blood, their food. Chest heaving as if struggling to hold back from ripping you into strips of meat.

“Bon appetit.” Is that Hoseok who’s leaping at your collarbone?

When his teeth sink in, you no longer have it in you to cry out. And then another on your right neck. Your head feels as if it’ll roll off your neck, only held onto the rest of your body by a ligament and Taehyung’s palm. A strong hand yanks your arm up and places your wrist in his mouth. This one hurts even more than your neck as you feel his fangs scrape carelessly against your bone. A soundless sob leaves your trembling lips. Then someone is gently pushing your legs apart, sniffing up the inside of your thigh. You try to kick him yet instead your leg wraps around his back and draw him closer. His purring resonates into your core as he licks his ravishing mark before piercing your skin once more. Blood seeps out the corner of his mouth and run down your calf like the tears you release in vain.

“Oh Hell, I haven’t tasted angel blood in centuries. I’ve forgotten how irreplaceably magnificent this is.” Someone throws their head back for a breath, sighing their satisfaction at your opulence.

No matter how much you thrash against the force that holds you in their submission, nothing budges. Like skyscraping obsidian walls surrounding your every side. Shadow scions twisting around your limbs into a lock.

Y/N, if you insist on defiance, I promise you endless suffering.

His voice echoes in the rubble of your brain like a bell, clanging its nauseating truth into you. Your consciousness is sand falling between your fingers, you try to hold on but the grains are ungraspable.

Then finally, the one with pink hair comes near you. A pitiful expression worn that makes you wonder how absolute the evil that lurks in them actually is, or whether it’s tainted with humanity.

He stops, brushes your tear away. “Sorry.” Trickery of your ears would not be surprising, considering the irony of his apology as he hesitantly lifts your other wrist to his fangs.

You last one second after his bite before fainting, body going slump but held upright by the six vampires feeding on you. Your last thought being: how terrifying the devils of Hell live in such beautiful deceiving skins.

And also that you hope you fucking die this time.

In the dim corner of the room, the last vampire watches, taciturn, as his brothers devour every last drop of crimson liquid that misses their tongues. Eyes narrowing at their wolfish hunger and your fainted state. Then slips away without as much as a word.

.

You wake up painless. Skin unmarred and unbroken. In the same room, on the same bed. Yet your red stained night dress tells you that it wasn’t a nightmare. It was all real.

Everything is silent though the clockwork in your head ticks loud. You try to process how you’ve been captured by a brotherhood of vampires, blood-sucking vampires, who have chosen you to be their personal blood bag. Their ‘Feed’. And you’re now magically bound to them, a force locking you in place and unable to resist every time you try.

What the actual fuck?

How has your life thrown you from torture to torture?

None of this seems possible. Vampires are a mythical creature, a fable. You have to be going insane. Or perhaps you actually are dead and this is your personal Hell designed to torment you for the rest of your afterlife. Not that you know what you did to deserve all this.

But it had felt so real.

You touch the spot on your neck where you were bitten, goosebumps raising when you recall Taehyung’s fangs first puncturing through you as if you were no more than a peach. That pain, that shock, bathes in its immortality in your memory.

Namjoon, their leader. His dictation of the rules that they are enforcing on you, his vexingly arrogant tone, the way his eyes squint down at you. What is wrong with him?

Then there is your sister. Her death. The initial heartbreak launched into you like a missile, but then somehow fizzled away into a bittersweetness that sours your throat. You won’t cry. Death was a mercy for her, it’s surely better than your predicament right now. She was innocent, she was sinless, she was pure. She deserves death when living was a worse fate.

There’s no point grieving her loss, right?

There’s no point, you convince yourself. And so you lock her sugar sweet scent and toothy smile away in your heart-shaped box and toss the key into the ocean of your emotions.

You wonder how your uncle fares. The cause of your misery and suffering all these years. The one who showed you that you’re capable of the ugly emotion that is hate. You don’t want to think about him, your fists already clenching in anger at the reminder of his alcohol-ridden breath. You hope he’s somewhere captured in this place too, experiencing worse than what he put you and her through.

If you ever see him, you would kill him yourself. Not a single doubt about that.

All this misfortune in you and your sister’s lives stemmed from one accident that resulted in the death of your parents. Your life before, a distant reverie. You had been happy once, scarless and untraumatized. Now you’re damaged.

About to be even more damaged.

Your coping mechanism has always fluctuated between two polarities. Either you are a shell of a living being, detached and numb to all the blows, merely rotting to your expiration, or some days you are so full of anger at the unfairness of this universe, so much resentment at yourself, your uncle, and even your parents for leaving you behind.

Right now, you’re the former. Hit by a wave of anaesthesia, and you’re grateful for it because you know the alternative is the manic loss of your sanity.

Sitting up, you regard this room. It is dark and sleek in nature, use of deep metal and glass for surfaces rather than the wood you’re used to at home. No, not home. That wasn’t your home. The palette is monochrome, primarily blacks and greys, devoid of any colour, reflecting the bleakness of your mental state. The room is lit by candles beside the bed, though a multi-bulbed light hangs from the middle of the ceiling, switched off. Curtains drawn shut, you have no idea what time of day it currently is, nor the passage of time. Furniture is lacking, only a marble chest of drawers, a cushion-barren loveseat, a pot of fern which you presume is fake because what plant can grow in such dull setting, and a double shelf of books.

There are three doors, one agape that opens up to what looks like an ensuite bathroom, the other two in adjacent corners, ominously calling for you to explore. Whatever lurks behind them, you can sense it won’t be the Garden of Eden. Either way, you need to find a way out of this place.

You’re about to leave the bed and scuttle to listen at the walls when you hear two soft knocks before the closer of the two doors opens. To reveal an angelic face that you now know is nothing more than a lie, his silver hair glinting from the candle flames.

“Can I come in?” His voice is smooth, saccharine, higher pitched than you expected. Though this is your second encounter with him, you don’t remember your first too well due to the overwhelm.

Clearing your throat, you reply, “yes.” Why has he even asked for permission when he didn’t need it? It’s not like you have a choice in the matter, or any matter in here apparently.

The way he strolls in exudes a swaggering confidence, a charm that you would buy into if you hadn’t witness him transform into a black-eyed demon and feel his fangs enter your flesh. When he sits on the bed, crinkling the satin covers, you fight the urge to recoil away from his proximity. He is dressed in a royal blue velvet suit that flaunts his collarbones, and tied around his neck is a red choker, the colour of which flashes a reminder of your own choker of your own blood sewn around your neck.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself before, I’m Jimin.” At his outreached hand, you blink. So these creatures are capable of etiquette and decency.

Hesitantly, like a cat sniffing a stranger’s inquiring finger, you place your hand atop his. Almost jumping at its iciness. When he lifts it up to plant a dry delicate kiss, you yelp and withdraw harshly, not caring that your knuckles hit his nose.

“You’re a shy one.” Jimin chuckles at your reaction to hide his hurt.

“No, not shy. Just not easy and willing like you want me to be.” The venom is harbouring in your chest now, melting away your numbness into an acidic puddle.

“You have a bite to you.” He muses, more to himself than you.

“So do you.” All your hatred, for your uncle, for your life, for these vampires, you’re channeling towards him at this moment. You know it might not be completely justified, he’s not the worst one out of them. But do you need a reason not to be sour towards your captor?

His face softens, though it was soft to begin with. He doesn’t look at you like his prey, and it confuses you because that’s what you are to him. “I… am sorry. I hope you understand that I didn’t choose to be like this.”

It dawns on you right now, as you for the first time consider his point of view. He didn’t choose to be like this. He really didn’t… You have no choice but to be bound to them. But they also have no choice but to need to feed on you. A lion does not choose to be cruel to the zebra, it simply has to in order to survive.

A tiny fragment of your firepit of anger smokes into nothing.

When you don’t say anything, a hint of worry appears in his eyes. “How are you feeling though?”

Alright, you almost say. Because that’s everyone’s default answer to this question even when they don’t mean in, even when they’re on the brink of a mental breakdown bubbling beneath their skin.

“Weird. Confused.”

“That’s usual for every Feed at first. But trust me, you’ll get used to it.” His hand is smoothing the soft sheets and you can’t help the feeling that they’re longing to touch you.

“Every Feed… How many have there been before me?” The thought is chilling, to think that this is some cycle of ritual.

“Y/N, you have to understand, we are ancient beings, we have been around for millennia…” Jimin glances at you fleetingly, as if worried about your reaction.

Millennia…

You don’t know what you expected, but certainly not this. That truth is truly horrifying. Vampires have plagued this very earth you inhabit for not decades, not centuries, but millennia.

“I don’t want to confuse you with more information, I think this much is enough so I’ll leave our story for another time perhaps.” His consideration is jarring. How can he act this caring right now as if he hadn’t just fed off your blood? And may do so any second now?

“Okay.”

A silence follows your reply that you intended to be the end of the conversation. There isn’t much one can respond to okay.

You’re keenly aware of how his eyes explore you, searching your face as if it were a map to the treasure he has exhausted himself with hunting for. His desire, a thing that scares you, radiates despite him not doing much. Doubt is planted in your head, you’re unsure of how to feel as you toy with the lining of the bedding. Namjoon was so blunt, so disrespectful with his superiority complex, insisting you to submit to him. But Jimin acts as though he wishes to befriend you.

Or maybe it’s to instill a false sense of security in you, so easier to lure you into his den.

“We’ve never done this before.” Jimin speaks again. “Sharing a Feed. All of us at least. Taehyung and I have shared before, but this… I don’t know how it will work.” He scratches his temple.

“Namjoon said only one of you would feed on me a day but then…” The feeling of six pairs of fangs biting into you gives you goosebumps. You hate the weak whisper that is your voice. You sound pathetic. But when you see his guilt and pity-stricken eyes, you feel an odd satisfaction.

“Sorry… I think we all just got too excited. We haven’t tasted angel blood in almost two centuries.” When he notices your alarm, he quickly explains, “Right, you don’t know you have angel blood. Humans that possess the sacred touch of those celestials are extraordinarily rare, every creature of the night wishes to vanquish them for the fortune they bring. To us vampires, your blood is like… like ambrosia - food of the gods. The taste so euphoric that it drives us to the edge of madness with desire and greed with just one drop.”

Angel blood.

A girl as mundane and peasant as you has fucking angel blood coursing through her system.

You want to laugh. What good does this stupid ‘sacred touch of the celestials’ if it not once protected you from the evil and adversities in your life? ‘Brings good fortune?’ Where the fuck has your good fortune been hiding then?

“I think I’m the one being driven to the brink of madness here,” is what you say instead of lashing out at him. “There’s no way. Why didn’t you get my uncle then? If I have angel blood then so should he.”

Your uncle with angel blood? The biggest joke this universe has played on you yet.

“No, it doesn’t work like that. The angels choose the selected few, born with a holy purity that makes them weep.” There’s a mockery in his tone when he describes those beings, as if they’re his archnemesis. “It requires the Heaven’s approval to imbue angel blood into an earthly being.”

You force a swallow. If the angels really chose you to carry their essence, where had they been when you needed them the most? What use is the angels’ good faith when they’re not there to guard you? You have so many questions, but you don’t know whether to trust his answers.

“Where are the other people with angel blood?” Why does it have to be you, you mean. Why always you?

“We’ve sought your kind our whole existence. You have to understand that your blood is like a drug to us, it’s a compulsion drawing us to find you. In our lifetime, we have sired a lot of the angel-blooded, probably hunted you so much that the angels are angry and decided to gradually relinquish this rite. We thought you were extinct, actually. Until we picked up on your scent and found you.”

Jimin finally gives into his inhibitions and holds your hand in his. This time you don’t flinch away, yet you’re unsure why. When his thumb caresses your knuckles, something in you jolts. His touch is so gentle, so unlike what you’re used to, and so unlike how he dug into your veins. You kind of want to cry. Because it’s been so long since anyone has shown this tenderness towards you.

Clearing your throat, you say, “And now I’m yours forever.” Until you suck me dry.

He senses the bitterness in your tone, your reluctance to belong to them. He seems hurt. It sends you down a whirlpool of confusion because he shouldn’t care.

“Y/N, I just want you to know that…” At the sincerity of Jimin’s voice, you lock eyes with him. “I can’t speak for my brothers, but me personally, I will never intentionally cause you unnecessary harm. My Feeds… mean a lot to me, I view you as more than food. I value and respect you, and though you may not for a long time, I wish for you to value and respect me too, one day.”

Resentment is a tiring emotion, it is a poison to your soul more than anyone else’s. You don’t want to hate him, or any of them. His words move you in a way that makes you almost believe that he isn’t a monster. Maybe he isn’t. It’s not their fault they were born like this.

And so you take your first step towards acceptance. Perhaps this is your future now. You hate everything about it, the pain, the submission, the restraint. But what other life have you got? There is nothing for you to go back to.

All of a sudden, Jimin twists his head to the side and freezes. You study his stunning profile, how he seems to be listening intently at what sounds like silence to your ears. Then the third door to the room swings open. Namjoon’s entrance is one like a villain’s in a horror film, with church organs playing in the background and a sinister flash of lighting. He looks taken aback at the sight of Jimin but recovers quickly as he frowns in disapproval.

You take the chance while his attention isn’t on you to assess him entirely. He’s dressed in the same all-black suit, albeit shed the blazer, and you wonder why they are all dressed like they’re ready for a banquet in their own home. Or maybe this isn’t their home and you’ve just made an assumption. His hair is less neat than before, spiking up on the sides as if he has been running his hands through it in exasperation. Stern expression seeming to be permanently worn on his face, he enters the room without asking. The discrepancy of him and Jimin does not surprise you.

“What are you doing here?” Namjoon demands. So it appears that his rigid tone is used not only on you, but also his brother. It’s insufferable. You almost take a step back to square one, forgetting Jimin’s offering of peace.

When his eyes narrow at your hand in Jimin’s, the smaller male quickly release you. “Hyung, I was just checking up on her. No need to get so possessive already.” Jimin is pouting almost exaggeratedly, his previous sincerity towards you quickly dissipating into a rather comical persona. You wonder which one is a facade, which one is really him.

“Possessive?” Namjoon scoffs and stops in front of him, his height towering over the both of you. “You’re the one to talk when you have to worst temper out of all of us. If roles were reversed, and I was visiting our Feed on your day, I think you’d come for my throat.”

Jimin glances over at you at Namjoon’s exposing words. After your exchange, you can’t really imagine him with a temper at all, let alone the worst one. But these vampires have shown to be masters of disguise afterall, why should it shock you? You feel a part of the bridge Jimin was building between you crumble away. You shouldn’t have trusted him so quickly.

“I’ll leave then.” He doesn’t argue, which you guess proves that Namjoon’s point rings true. Jimin spares you one last weighty look, trying to convey to you that he had meant what he said, before leaving you alone in this dark room with the tall vampire.

Namjoon is quiet, assessing you with that dagger-like stare of his as if you’re a child who’s just doodled all over the wall with your crayons. It almost makes you shrink away, but your defiance grows bold with him, more than anyone else. You meet his eye with the same harshness he doles.

“It’s Monday today.” He says. It’s an ordinary sentence otherwise, but now it holds a meaning. You’re his Feed today.

You don’t know who out of these vampires you prefer, but it is definitely not Namjoon. He doesn’t have to say it, but you can tell by the disdain in his eyes that he does not see you as more than his next meal. Even if Jimin was pretending, at least he spoke to you with decency.

“For future reference, I would rather you not associate with anybody else but me on the days where you are mine.” The way he articulate certain words accentuates his snobbish attitude that you want to punch out of him.

And I would rather you not suck my blood or magically link my life to you until my death, you want to say. Your rage is returning at an accelerating rate.

“It wasn’t my fault he came into my room.” His brows draw at your snark.

“He won’t be doing so again. Also, refrain from using that tone with me.”

“What tone?”

You’re being especially difficult, and you pride in the way his mouth twitches in annoyance. A man of his character is easy to tick off. He moves his hand towards you and you flinch abruptly, the memory of your uncle’s raised fist fresh in your mind, in an instant reducing you to the scared girl you have been for so long. His hand ceases its motion midair.

When you meet his eyes, they are wide in alarm, as if he hadn’t expected such a reaction from you.

“I- wasn’t going to hit you.” His voice low, he lets his arm drop to his side.

His words perplex you, his softer tone even more. If you didn’t know better, you would say he looks slightly abashed. Guilty even.

Namjoon clears his throat at your silence, glare hardening once again.

“You have a sharp tongue, girl.” Tutting, he walks over to the bookshelves with his hands held behind his back like some professor.

“You have sharper teeth.”

His head whips back at your retort, then in a blinding speed you thought not humanly possible, he closes the distance he had walked from you, appearing a finger-length away in front of you. You stagger back on the bed.

“Don’t make your life difficult for yourself. As I’ve said, address me by Sir when you speak to me, and speak to me with respect, as you would to authority. Those are simple rule to abide, but if you knowingly continue to choose to break them, I have the capability to make your stay with us a living nightmare.” There is not the slightest humour in his eyes.

His threat would instill fear in anyone, except you have heard it all before and so it brushes past you like an autumn breeze. Brazen, you stand up on the mattress, the leverage allowing your height to surpass his as you look down at him.

“My life already is a living nightmare, Namjoon. It has been for a while now so your threat means nothing to me. You want me to speak to you with respect, but why the fuck should I? Your brother Jimin at least looks at me like I’m a human being. You talk to me like I’m no more than your dinner served in a dress. You want to hurt me? Go fucking ahead. Kick me, slap me, strangle me, burn me. I’ve had it all before.” Words tumble out of your mouth on their own accord, driven furious by his contempt. “You think you can command me to be your little bitch? Think again, because I will never,” you take one step closer to him, “ever respect a self-important cunt like you as long as you look down on me like that.”

The fury in his crimson irises brews quietly. Namjoon’s jaw is clenched so tightly his cheeks hollow inwards.

At the back of your mind, a small ounce of regret and fright registers. You have just yelled your wrath at the face of a millenia-old vampire, one who’s supernatural abilities you have not a single clue about yet. He could kill you right now, but you know he won’t. Many things are worse than death. He needs you alive, but only barely, enough to be his blood bag.

Still, you don’t cower as he pulls you by the wrist towards him, so hard that your foot missteps and you fall onto him as your knee gives way, inherently grabbing onto his shoulder for balance. Your faces are inches apart, closer than you would ever want to get to this monster. But what terrifies you more than your ill fate is how handsome he looks this close. His strong features carve into your core and you hate it. His musk fills your nose; he smells clean like cotton.

Your upheavance seems to have unleashed a cold storm from him. His silence is more frightening than when he speaks. But now that you are set on this path of defiance against Namjoon, you must commit to it. Can’t back down right now.

Then he brings your wrist to his mouth, grip not painful but tight enough, his eyes never leaving yours just as yours are locked on his, in a quiet battle between his dominance and your rebellion. If you look away, you let him win, you let him know that he has a hold on you.

So you watch as his sinks his sharp teeth into your pulsing vein without so much of a blink. The agony is a motherfucker, so intense your head dizzies immediately and your hand clenches spastically. Yet still, your eyes remain on him, even when your throat is itching to whimper at the pain. Does it hurt less the second time around? You would have hoped so but it doesn’t. If anything, because of the anticipation, it hurts more.

Namjoon doesn’t feed for long though. He doesn’t need to, this is no more than a show of his power. When he releases your wrist, blood oozes out of the two holes down your arm, dripping off your elbow onto the sheets.

You notice that his chest is rising particularly hard. He is trying hard to control his thirst. From Jimin’s description earlier, you gather that it isn’t easy for vampires when it comes to angel blood. It must be driving him insane right now. You don’t know how to feel. Perhaps empowered, but also afraid.

The black of his pupils is beginning to spread like the had done when they had all transformed earlier. He quickly turns away and take several steps back. Faced with his back, you slump down onto your knees in the mattress, trying to stop your bleeding wrist in your clutch.

“Fuck you.” You spit, though it comes out less harsh than inteded as a hesitancy holding you back. Provoking him is not a good idea right now.

His shoulders are rising and falling heavily as his breathing deepens. The sound of blood splattering from his chin onto the wooden floor fills the air. Right now you’re filled with uncertainty, of what is going to happen and what you should do. Is he vulnerable right now? Or is he more powerful after feeding on you? Do you make a run for it? Or do you keep your mouth shut and stay here?

“When will you listen, girl.” The deepness of his grumble stirs a wild hot sensation in you that you don’t understand. He is still facing away from you, heaving. You watch his closed fists clench tighter.

“I told you. Never.”

“How can you expect me not to lose my head when you oppose every single word I say?” His head hangs low, shoulder blades poking out at his black shirt.

“How can you expect me to willingly let you drink my blood for the rest of my life? Especially when you talk to me like that?” You train your voice to be more reasonable, less attacking, because you feel the danger lurking beneath his skin that he is trying to control.

“Just obey. Make it easier for yourself.” Watching your blood continuously flow out of your fresh wound makes your head light. You will bleed to your death if he doesn’t heal you, however he does that.

Still, you consider his suggestion. You could just obey, accept this as your life now - a Feed for seven vampires to take their turn with you. You thought your uncle had beaten all the self love out of you, but maybe after all, you still value your own worth. Submission has a disgusting taste. Or maybe it’s just that you want to anger one of them so much that they in the heat of the moment kill you, so you can finally meet your long-awaited death.

“I won’t.”

Everything is still for an ominous pause following your refusal. Cautious, you watch his strong back, unsure of his next response. Though there are no open windows or doors to the room, you feel a gust of cold air breeze past you, sending a flare of chills on the sides of your neck.

When Namjoon slowly turns to face you again, black wholly consuming his eyes, fangs protruding from his gaping mouth, still dripping with the red you paint, you know to be scared. You don’t have time to scuffle away when he whizzes to you with that impossible speed of his again. And in a blink of an eye, he is before you, knees hitting the edge of the bed. Panting, growling, yanking your throbbing arm up.

Namjoon before shifting is an insufferable prick. Namjoon after shifting is an unrecognisable beast. Well-spoken manner, pristine appearance, air of arrogance, all gone.

As he bites into your wrist again, you can’t hold in your shriek this time, not when the wounds he had pierced are still burning and bleeding profusely. You almost cry for help in your desperation, but remember that there’s no one to help you here. In this house are seven vampires, and you.

But then something feels different.

There’s a tingling in your chest, not quite enjoyable but also not unpleasant. Before you can grow accustomed to it, it accelerates like the heart-lurching pull of gravity, and squeeze your whole body into a tight compression. You feel as though you’re racing through space, yet your body is unmoving, slouched against his form.

Then, tug.

Something is pulling you. Someone is pulling you.

You look around through your half shut lids from exhaustion but see no one except the two of you.

Another tug. And you realise it’s not physical. There is a knot tying in your chest right now, and you faintly recall an uncannily similar experience when you had first woken up here. Like a cord, a rope violently pulling on your soul.

Is this… the so-called Sire Bond they spoke of that permanently fixes you to a vampire?

Glancing up gives you the answer you seek. Though his eyes are pitch dark, there is an indecipherable difference in them, something so minute yet so significant in the way he is staring back at you.

Namjoon stops feeding.

And inhales.

Exhales.

You tremble because you feel the animal that is his desire embrace you like a mist. During your encounter with him, both times when he had fed on you before, not once did he express desire even remotely unlike his brothers. Yet now…

His fingers around your wrist suddenly feel gentler. Stunned, you glare at each other, studying the other’s response at the tether binding your souls. Both your angers seem to fritter away into smoke.

Why do you feel… a hunger? A yearning for his touch?

Without realising what you’re doing, you wipe the back of your hand across his wet chin, your blood smearing into sangria stains. He lets you. You study his face, he studies yours. He is so infuriatingly handsome, you notice. You almost want to…

No, you do want to.

But why? What is wrong with you? Why are you wondering how his lips feel when they are red with your blood that he’s forcefully drinking?

You shudder because you see him glancing down at your lips too. You see the turmoil in his brain, the confusion from the twitch of his brow.

Then he firmly places his hand on your waist and bring your body to his. Though his touch is ice through the fabric of your garment, your skin feels warm. Scathing, in fact. This time when he sucks on your bleeding wrist again, it feels less aggressive. More… Intimate. You watch Namjoon’s eyes shut slowly in a state of euphoria, entranced by your taste. It doesn’t really hurt anymore; the sting is ever present, but now it is accompanied by a pulsating pleasure entering up your arm and running into your every fibre. His hand snakes around your back until you’re completely pressed onto his chest. Your own hand reaches his sternum to create space between you out of instinct but you find it stopping at his pectoral, your fingers curling over the firm muscle.

He leans into your touch, and you grapple onto his chest because your head is spinning, both from the supernatural bond coiling around you and the continuous loss of your blood.

After one last gulp, he releases your wrist from his mouth, but doesn’t let it fall to your side, instead carefully guiding it to his shoulder, urging you to circle your arm around him. Though his eyes are still obsidian and he’s still in his shifted beastly state, vulnerability is splattered across his face. This isn’t Namjoon from before. This is an entirely different being whom you don’t recognise.

Lifting his arm to his teeth, he rips into his own wrist, the puncture of his skin almost like a crunch of an apple. Your gasp is muffled when he places it against your lips, offering his blood for you to drink. To heal you.

The metallic taste you expect is absent. In its place is the juice of a fruit so fresh its sweetness cures your thirst and ailments. You don’t hesitate to swallow the fluid pouring onto your tongue. So now you know how you must taste to them.

Simply divine. Like drops of Heaven.

Though it must be magnified by miles for them. You are not even a vampire.

You watch him watch you drink his blood like it is some erotic ribald scene, the intensity of his glare shooting a flame to your core. And when your tongue licks at his skin to lap up the spilled droplets, he lets out a grunt and leans into the crown of your head. With his fangs still extended, his nose roams your hair, breathing in your scent that he is craving, but in a different way from thirst.

As Namjoon removes his arm from you, depriving you of his blood once more, you feel your bite wounds itch ferociously. When you look down at them, you see that your skin is sewing itself back together. Until it is once more porcelain-smooth. Not a single mark save for the crusts of your drying blood.

Unbelievable.

You are too shocked to even make a sound.

But that is quickly overruled by a different sensation - Namjoon’s lips brushing the tip of your ear. Your sharp inhale arouses him, you feel it stiffening at your hip. Holding your jaw firmly, he pulls away to look at you. And what an unholy sight you are: an angel-anointed girl with the blood of a vampire slathered across her snout.

There is a carnal glint in his onyx pools, you catch it the very moment before he kisses you. Hard and fast. Full of a desperation that has the bond between you winding you closer to him. You taste your own blood in his mouth, and it is bland and regular compared to his, but somehow the idea of your bloods mixing on each other’s tongues excite you. There is a hint of a voice in your head screaming at you to stop but you banish it. You have never felt a stronger desire than right now, in the arms of a man you hate.

Falling back onto the bed with his frame hovering over you, you allow him to guide your lips, wield you, mould you. When your hand reaches to cradle his cheek, he grips both your wrists and pins them above your head, holding them in place with a single hand big enough to encircle them both. Even in this monstrous inhuman state, his need for dominance eclipses the rest of his character.

You feel beside yourself under his kiss. So sensual, driven by lust. This isn’t you, but you don’t care. You don’t care about anything other than how much you crave Namjoon this very moment. When he grabs onto the flesh of your ass, you forget how much you had wanted to hurt him just minutes ago. And when you feel the tip of his fangs scrape gently against your tongue, you forget yourself altogether.

With a growl, he pulls away from the kiss and flips you over onto your front as if you weigh no more than a feather. Swiping your hair to one side, he grazes his teeth along your neck. It tickles more with the thrill of knowing that the could bite down anytime. You think you want him to. His hands ride up the flimsy material of your dress, it’s bumpy calluses exciting you. Then he puts his weight onto your ass, grinding his hard member into your crack with only mere layers of fabric separating you from his meat.

“Sir...” The word tumbles out at the peak of your moan mindlessly. You are truly not yourself.

At that, you feel his hefty cock pulse on your rear. Namjoon’s body falls onto you in defeat at your name for him as if that one syllable alone had slain him. His fingers wrap around your wrists again as he continues to grind furiously into you. The strap of your dress has slipped off your shoulder, and he takes your skin between his lips, brushed by his hot velvet tongue.

A familiar warm slick is pouring out of your cunt, wetting your panties and the crotch of his trousers. You need him so badly you want to sob. Your core is twisting and throbbing for him, aching to be stretched out. This isn’t enough. His cock sliding between the cheeks of your ass isn’t enough. You need him thrusting into you like this from behind.

“Fuck me, please!” You know his self control is ebbing away into oblivion like yours. You can’t wait any longer.

But then he sits up, so abruptly that the bed creaks loudly. Your whole back feels barren without his contact. You quickly twist to look at him, in time to see the black of his eyes slowly retreating to reveal white, then waning back to their normal crimson-tinted irises in a blink.

Instantly they are enshrouded in confusion. Disbelief.

Namjoon has shifted back to himself in an instant. No longer the demonic desire-driven vampire who was just pushing his stiff member between your ass.

“I-” He chokes.

Your high gradually rides down its hill as well as clarity begins to fill your cup once again, clearing away the fog of your vertigo. Your senses, your own self creeps back into your body as you register what was going on. Breathing heavily the both of you, for a dreaded second, all you do is look at each other.

Then without another word, he speeds out of the room like lightning, the echo of the door slamming shut after him startling you.

You blink and he is gone.

Leaving you wondering what the fuck had just happened.

And what the fuck had you done to each other.

❦

@serendipity-secrets @killcomet @askingtheimportantthingshere@blackpanther4550 @comingjimin @unatempesta-dipensieri @dapppphhhhh

❦

03/10/2019

© Copyright 2019

[imaginekpoplikethis]

A charismatic roommate - Roomate Au - Kim Taehyung - Part 1

Henlo I’m back. Hopefully for a while. There’s a lot going on and this is one of the only ways to keep my mind off things.

Hope you enjoy 

Part 1 - Here

——

Today was supposed to be a special day. An anniversary of sorts. This particular day last year you had finally sprouted wings and left your parents’ home to take on a sense of individuality, the idea of having to work for yourself driving you to experience such a stepping stone head on. You had moved into a share house situated near your university. Your new home had all the necessities needed to live comfortably. If anything, you had managed to score a deal with the house. The number of rooms came to a total of seven. A kitchen and living room combined two bathrooms and four bedrooms. The rent was a miracle and you were elated when you had initially found this place.

That was until your roommate suddenly decided to move out. This meant you were the only one living in a house that could have four other people. Your initial reaction was that of shock and then worry hit you like a truck. The owner of the share house had let you know that if no one else moved in within the next few months she was going to turn the house into ‘the cafe of her dreams’. You were sure you were not going to find any other places to live since the academic year has already started. This is precisely the reason you found yourself posting on your universities forum, looking for a potential roommate. You didn’t dare tell your parents of your predicament, fearful that they would drag you back home despite the hefty journey it would take to travel to university from their home.

Surprisingly enough, you received several replies within the first week though after much consideration you chose not to accept any. This was mainly due to the fact that you knew of these people. For example, one happened to be the captain of the swimming club and although many would die over the chance to room with such a handsome man, the rumours and his personality almost had you deleting his reply and acting as if you had never seen it. He was in no way rude but the size of his ego was simply nauseating. He even happened to be in your class and had wasted no time in trying to romance you at the beginning of the year. The memory of your encounter with him almost made you scream out loud.

Your other replies consisted of three third year girls, notorious for their partying habits, a supposedly sketchy boy from the year above and another boy in his final year. All had fallen short of your expectations and so you notified them that you were in contact with a potential roommate and would let them know if the deal fell through. Of course this was a lie but you were not about to let them know you just didn’t think they’d be appropriate roommates. Around two days after your rejections, a new candidate privately messaged you, inquiring about the bills that would need to be paid. Glancing at the name of the user, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“KT? Ah, as in Katie? That’s got to be it…”

Typing a brief but detailed reply, you hit send and stood from your seat at your desk, preparing yourself for a shower. You weren’t expecting a reply for at least a few hours so you turned off your laptop and went about your evening plans. It seemed the whole exchange had slipped your mind since you found yourself waking up the next morning and jumped out of bed at the thought of a reply. As you had expected, a reply was sitting in your inbox.

‘If its fine with you, I’d like to view the place and move in as soon as possible. Could you let me know which day is good for you?’

Smiling to yourself, you let KT know that if need be, they could visit and potentially move in tomorrow afternoonto which they quickly answered that it would be perfect for them since they didn’t have much. Thus the twenty four hour wait began. You couldn’t help the excitement that had taken shelter within you and pondered over what kind of person this ‘KT’ was. You mentally slapped yourself for not asking what their actual name was but decided you could eventually ask them tomorrow. For now you had a class to get ready for, one which you finally realised you were late for. Cursing under your breath, you decided to skip on breakfast and ran straight to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and rushing back out to gather your belongings. Quickly fixing your appearance at the hallway mirror, you eventually left your apartment and began your rush to your university.

Finally Friday... this was the longest week of my life.

—— You had made it to the gates ten minutes late with a few other students also rushing to their classes. Fortunately for you, your lesson took place in a lecture room at the front of the campus so not much more time would be wasted. A text suddenly came in and you glanced briefly at your phone screen, noting it was from your friend Iris Inquiring about where you were. Deciding against replying back as you were bound to see her in less than a minute, you trudged to the door, ready for the walk of shame to your seat.  As you were going over the different apologies you could make to your lecturer you failed to notice the boy beside you slightly panicking. It was the sudden hand on your wrist that brought you back to your senses and your startled eyes came into contact with the glass door inches from your face.

“Whoa, great timing! I’m truly impressive.” You snapped your eyes to the boy who had saved you from a day of embarrassment, a grin plastered on his face.

“It’s too early in the morning to be walking into doors, haha.” Your face flushed and you let out a huff of amusement whilst quietly taking him in. He was quite handsome, probably the most handsome person you had come face to face with in a while. He also seemed to be fairly charismatic if his overly joyful attitude this early in the morning was anything to go by.

“Thank you… I can’t even begin to explain how embarrassing that would have been.” A small, appreciative smile spread on your lips and his grin only widened.

“Don’t worry about it, it happens to the best looking of us!”

Now you were slightly lost.

“You mean the best of us?” He stopped for a moment and just stared at you in confusion.

“Wait, it’s not what I just said? Is that why the old lady laughed at me the other day?”

As you tilted your head in even more confusion, an alarm startled the both of you and he grabbed his phone out of his pocket, eyes widening drastically at the sight displayed to him.

“No, I’m gonna be super late!” That seemed to snap you back into reality and you prepared to head into the building when he turned around and ran straight into the door. The sound seemed to echo throughout the mostly empty campus and you couldn’t help but feel second hand embarrassment.

The boy didn’t turn around, just exhaled slowly and opened the door, halting only to hold it open for you and then he was off.

He’s got one heck of a personality, I’ll give him that…

——

“He actually smacked into the same door he saved you from? Sounds like a sacrifice to me… but seriously how does that happen? That’s the kind of stuff that only happens in fiction, not real life.”

You were currently eating lunch with Iris, both of you having no more lessons for the day, and you had just finished filling her in on your encounter with the boy from earlier that morning.

“Maybe this is fiction and we’re in a book.”

Iris looked at you as if you had grown two heads.

“Just kidding but trust me, it happened. I had enough second hand embarrassment for both of us.”

Noticing you both had finished your respective lunches, you gathered the rubbish from the tables and stood, Iris following suit.

“I can imagine... Well at least he’s cute. You probably should’ve gotten his number.”

You scoffed at the idea of asking a boy for his number.

“Me? Ask for someone’s number? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re a stranger or something. You know I don’t have the social skills to do that.”

Iris’ laughter had a small smile spreading on your face.

“I know, I know. I really I wish I was there, I could have gotten it for you.”

“Nah, it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably never see him again. Anyway I need to get home and clean the house before ‘KT’ comes tomorrow.”

You both stopped to bid farewells, stepping in for a quick hug.

“Right! Tell me how it goes. I wanna know who this ‘KT’ person is.”

“Will do.”

——

You couldn’t help the nervous jitters that wracked your body as you waited for your potential new roommate. It was already twenty minutes past the initial time you had decided to set up the room viewing and ‘KT’ had yet to appear. You had in fact messaged them ten minutes prior and the lack of reply had you worried something may have happened. Despite your thought process, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions and actually call them. At least not yet. Speaking to strangers over the phone wasn’t really your strongest social skill so you normally tried to avoid doing just that. However, as the minutes waiting began to increase, you hesitantly reached for your phone, quickly going over the ways you could explain the sudden call if they happened to pick up.

Just as you unlocked your phone, a rhythmic knock on your door made you jump up from your seat and shuffle towards it.

“Finally, I was really starting to freak out.”

Mumbling under your breath, you placed your hand on the doorknob and eagerly

opened the door. A petite girl stood before you, a look of surprise adorning her round face.

“Um...  hi. Are you viewing the room?”

You cursed yourself for letting your anxiousness seep into your voice but she didn’t seem to notice, to your immense relief.

“I’m actually here for a housewarming party but I guess this is the wrong place...”

She pulled out her phone and unlocked it, glancing up at you somewhat apologetically.

“Er... if it’s not too much trouble could you help me find this place?”

Nodding, you took a look at the address she had pulled up on her phone and stepped out to better direct her.

“If you turn this corner, the place you’re looking for is the second building.”

She shot you an appreciative smile.

“Thank you so much! Have a great rest of the day.”

Smiling back at her, you nodded and reciprocated her farewell before turning back into the house. Just as you were about to close the door, a voice called out to you.

“Wait! I’m here and I’m sorry I’m late but I’m here!”

Releasing a sigh of relief, you swung the door back open and stepped back out, only to collide with a body and fall to the ground.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you would step completely out... Wait, I know you!”

Yeah right, I don’t know anyone this chaotic.

Lifting your head to get a good look at the wrecking ball that was ‘KT’, your eyes widened when they made contact with the same boy from yesterday. The first thing you could think to do in this current situation was blurt out whatever came to mind and apparently he had the same idea.

“You’re the cute girl who almost walked into the door!”

“You’re the pretty boy who ran into the door!”

Both of you slapped your hands over your mouths, a deep red spreading over your faces.

I can’t believe this sh-

——

You found yourself sitting in front of ‘KT’, also known as Kim Taehyung, two cups of coffee set in front of you both as you waited for him to give his final impressions of the share house.

“Woah! So you have this whole house all to yourself? It’s awesome!”

“Not really, I’m actually meant to be rooming with at least two other people hence the term share house. My last roommate bailed on me and the owner of the house can’t really run this place with one person living here.”

He nodded in understanding, his smile gradually growing.

“So in total... five people can stay here?”

“Yeah, as you saw there are three rooms for one person each and one room with two beds.”

“Cool! I haven’t heard of many mixed share houses... are there any rules?”

Besides the obvious rules such as not entering a room that isn’t yours without permission you could only think of one.

“Not really any special ones except there’s no mixed rooms. So you either have to share with a guy or pick the single room.”

“That’s fine. I think I’ve made my decision.”

He began to drum his hands on the table, imitating a drumroll. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you due to his goofy attitude. He enthusiastically pointed his thumb at himself and gave you a close eyed boxy grin.

“Say hello to your new roommate! I mean... if that’s fine with you, haha.”

A grin almost as wide as his own plastered itself on your face.

“That’s absolutely fine with me. So are you bringing stuff over today?”

“Yep! My friend is bringing stuff over in his car later tonight. So I’ll be done moving in by tomorrow afternoon.”

Standing from your seat, you grabbed the empty cups and made your way to the sink.

“Great. You should probably go and talk to the house owner. She has spare keys and a contract you need to sign. Don’t worry she’s sweet.”

“Will do! Thank you Y/N, you’re really kind.”

Your cheeks burned with the compliment.

“Thank you Taehyung, you too.”

——

[bensboynton]

the bookshop on the corner b.h

this request was originally a blurb but then i wrote a few thousand words and it turned to a fic. so. oops?

WC: 3.3k

warnings: none besides typos!! only ONE curse word.

John Green once said, “As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, then all at once.”

And as a hopeless romantic, Y/N has wished since the original publication of the novel said quote appeared in (The Fault in Our Stars; one of her more modern favorites) that she could relate. In even the slightest!

Although, it was quite hard being a hopeless romantic who had absolutely zero men who were even slightly interested in her, zero social skills, and zero opportunity to fall in love with anybody. 

Until today. 

Y/N works at a bookshop in the corner of a quiet East Sussex street, in a town called Rye. The shop is squished between a small deli and a bland boutique that sells flowy shirts she swears she’s seen her grandmother wear on a few occasions. 

The store itself is quaint and small; an absolutely staggering number of seven whole bookshelves filled to the brim with words, a lounging area, and her desk where she also had an old cash register. Y/N often worked alone, as the owner had other businesses and placed almost all her trust in Y/N. The girl was completely okay with working alone. 

Her routine was always the same; wake up at 6 am, get ready while dancing to whatever music she’d been listening to recently (you’d be surprised by how fast her music taste changes: just yesterday she was listening to Miley Cyrus and now she’s listening to various punk bands she discovered on the internet). She’d then walk to the café that was exactly 95 steps away from the stoop of her apartment (give or take a few) and she’d spend around 20 minutes talking to the old woman who runs the place. 

After stalling at the coffee shop, she makes her way across the street to the book shop where she works with one other person; the owner of the shop. 

Y/N’s life is very monotone, and to other people, extremely boring. But not to her. 

Y/N’s entire life exists in a 5 block radius of East Sussex. She goes to the grocery store sometimes, but that’s about as far away she gets from her apartment and she’s completely okay with that. She eats takeout a lot, anyways.

As pathetic as that sounds, this is probably the happiest Y/N has been in her entire life. Besides when she adopted her cat. That was a very close second in her book. 

Y/N was completely satisfied with her life. She’d talk with the woman who owned the book store she lived in, would greet her mailman with a cheery smile every morning. She knew everybody and everybody knew her. She was friends--scratch that, acquaintances-- with everybody who was around her. And that’s how she liked it. 

In fifth grade, Y/N was bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to find a love like she saw in the movies her big sister watched on the TV all the time. While other kids her age were watching Finding Nemo, Y/N was watching Pretty Woman. 

Then one day, Dale Erdelac, otherwise known as Y/N’s crush, asked her to be his girlfriend during lunch. She stood there with her mouth full of sharp metal braces and her heart full of adrenaline and butterflies. She said yes all too quickly. 

Needless to say, Dale wasn’t serious. Y/N found out a few hours later that it wasn’t, in fact, a serious proposal. It was a dare from his snotty little friends. Y/N cried a lot more than she’d like to admit that day. 

It would be completely immature and nonsensical if the only reason Y/N’s love life was so disappointing was because of a dumb mouth-breather in fifth grade. It’s not, but that’s definitely part of it. 

Y/N has never truly been in love. 

Her mom tries to tell her she has, but she knows she hasn’t. She dated a guy in high school for two years just to pass the time. She told him “I love you” and he said it back, but she didn’t feel love. She didn’t feel the speeding up of her heartbeat when she saw him, or the warmth that spreads across your chest when they laugh like the pretty girls talk about in the movies. 

Her older sister, Peyton, tells her to move on a lot. “That fairytale love doesn’t exist,” she’d say, “it’s a creative outlet for fictional writers to display their nonsense dreams and desires. It can exist in your head, but never in real life.” 

That’s what she said every time. 

Y/N ignored her and kept on living her life in the small bubble of 5 blocks in Rye. 

She was happy. She told herself that. No, she knew she was happy. She was secure! What else could she want in life? 

And then he showed up. 

The tiny bookstore in the corner of the block didn’t get a lot of visitors (although that could be easily inferred due to the description of the little community there). Y/N pretty much knew the name and story of every single person who stepped foot into the shop. 

Until one day, she didn’t anymore. 

It was a cold January day; not the kind where the wind pierces your skin like daggers. It was the kind of cold that felt dry; like it was sucking the water out of your body through your skin and leaving behind a red numbness in its wake. 

A man walked in. He was tall and blonde, muscular and carried a chaotically calming energy. His eyes raked over the book store slowly, as if he was trying to imprint the old wooden rocking chairs and chipped bookshelves in his mind forever. 

It was like every move he made had a perfectly logical purpose. 

Y/N watched him intently from across the room, hidden by a pile of books she’d been meaning to put away for more than an hour now. She was so intrigued by him it made her stomach do a backflip. This was unusual for her. 

As soon as the man started looking her way, she looked down into the book sitting open on her lap, scrambling to pretend she was deep in thought over the passage she was reading. 

Her pupils glossed over the same paragraph three times, but she couldn’t comprehend a single word knowing he was in the same room as her. 

“Excuse me?”

Y/N’s body jolted slightly due to the sudden sound of his deep voice. She was the only one in the bookshop at the moment, as the owner had gone home for the day and it was her turn to close up. The store was never populated by more than six people at a time, and it would be especially dead considering New Year’s Eve was two days ago. 

“What can I help you with?” she spoke, mentally slapping herself for the way her voice sounded. It was pinched and sounded like a squeak. She cleared her throat desperately to return it to its normal sound. 

“I’m looking for a book.”

“What kind of book?”

“Well... that’s what I need your help with.” 

She smiled as an involuntary blush made its way to her already rosy cheeks, “I think I can help you.” 

She stood up and walked from behind the desk, beckoning the tall blonde man to go with her. The pair made their way to the bookshelves in awkward and palpable silence. The girl was panicking- she had no idea what to say. 

“I was wondering if you had any recommendations?” The Brit added to the nonexistent conversation. 

Y/N thought for a moment, “...well, I’m not sure what kind of person you are, but I recommend any classic literature to people who ask.” 

“Does the type of person I am happen to determine the type of books I like?”

“It’s the only thing that determines what type of books you like.”

The girl turned around, her fingers lightly dancing over the spines of the books as she walked. The tall man was on her heels, seemingly just as intrigued by her and she was with him. 

“Of course we have Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, To Kill A Mockingbird, Wuthering Heights, and of course, my favorite of all time, The Great Gatsby.” She was picking out the books from their places on the shelves that she had memorized over her six years of working here. She knew the placement of books and authors like the back of her hand.

The man gazed at the pile of books in her arms thoughtfully, before meeting her eyes. “I’ll take it.” 

“Which one?” 

“All of them.” 

She grinned at his eagerness. 

--

After ringing up his books and a slight burst of confidence, Y/N was able to discover the man’s name and his reason for suddenly buying four books two days after New Year’s Eve. 

Ben (a name she thought suited him particularly well) was starting a New Year’s Resolution; read one book a month. He confided in her his self-doubt on his ability, but with a small grin, she said she believed in him. His smile grew as he picked up the bag and left. 

Y/N could’ve cursed herself into oblivion for not getting his number. 

--

The girl walked across the street that next morning, balancing a coffee and a copy of the newest book that had arrived at the store. 

That was one of the best perks of her job, she thought. Access to the newest stories. While she pondered the last chapter she had read of her book, a blonde head of hair in the distance caught her eye. 

“Excuse me?” a very familiar voice spoke. Y/N’s cheeks almost immediately flushed at those two words. Deja Vu. 

“You’re back!” she spoke, almost as to question why. It’s not often someone new comes back twice, much less is standing at the door before she even gets there.

“I am,” he spoke breathily, scratching the back of his neck, “I wanted to come back to... well...” he trailed off, eyes dancing to the floor. 

Y/N waited patiently for him to say what he meant to (she knew that’s what she’d want if she was in his shoes).

“I needed to get your name, at least. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t.” 

The girl bit the inside of her cheek to stop her mouth from stretching into a grin that was a mile long. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she stared at her shoes for a moment. 

She made direct eye contact with Ben’s hazel eyes and smiled, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose slightly. 

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, his eyes going hazy as he thought about it.  

Ben followed her inside and sat down next to her desk quickly, almost as if he was afraid he’d run out of time. 

“I read The Great Gatsby yesterday... you said that one was your favorites, right?” 

Y/N nodded, taking a delicate sip from the paper cup of coffee still in her hand. 

“Right. Well. I have a few questions.” 

Y/N nodded vigorously. She could practically feel the twinkle in her eye, “I’m all ears.”

--

Y/N went home that day with a swarm of butterflies making a home in the pits of her stomach. Ben had spent the better part of four hours with her, discussing the book he read and many, many other things. 

When Ben left the shop that day, she had learned that his favorite color was clear (he thought it made him quirky) and he had a dog named Frankie. Y/N saw quite a few pictures of Frankie that day. She was a cat person, but she couldn’t tell if it was the dog or the way Ben’s eyes lit up when he talked about her that made her heart swell. 

She also learned that Ben hated reading, and that he was mildly confused as to why he seemed to enjoy the Great Gatsby so much. 

“It’s got to be because of you,” he mused, “I’ve never enjoyed reading a book until this one.” 

Y/N also learned that Ben was an incredibly smooth talker. 

He made her blush and giggle like a school-girl almost all day. It physically pained Y/N when she had to leave him alone to help a customer. She wished she could sit there and bask in him and all that he was. 

Y/N wasn’t positive if love at first sight existed before, but now she hadn’t been more positive of anything in her entire life. 

--

Y/N hadn’t had anyone new to talk to in years (she wishes that was an exaggeration). 

So you could definitely imagine the girl’s surprise to see a young British man with a shared admiration for the Great Gatsby at the book shop again before opening time. 

The day prior seemed to repeat itself. And then, every single day after that. 

For three months, Ben would come to the book store and wait outside for Y/N to come and open up. And Y/N spent three weeks barely getting any sleep and talking to her cat about how excited she was to see Ben the next day. 

Y/N and Ben got very close. 

Insanely close. 

So close to the point that Ben knew every single secret she had kept to herself. He knew the name of her first pet and childhood address (which she realized Ben could easily use to change the passwords on innumerable online shopping accounts). 

Ben knew about the one time she had an allergic reaction to a medicine she was on when she was younger, and he even knew about fucking Dale. That was a story Y/N kept to herself. But she told Ben. 

But this relationship was definitely not onesided. Y/N knew just about everything there was to know about Ben. 

She knew the names of his childhood best friends and his favorite flavor of ice cream. She knew about the one time he got arrested when he was a teenager because he was lighting off fireworks in the street at 3 am. She also knew that Ben was an actor that was currently working on a new film. But she wanted to know even more. 

Ben left every day at around 11:30. Y/N had no idea where he went or what he did, but he was never more than five minutes late before he stood up, gave her a big smile and left. 

Y/N had never been in love before but she knew with every fiber of her being, with every bone, muscle, and cell in her body that she was in love with Ben. 

And almost as soon as she realized this, there came some news. 

Earth-shattering, heart-wrenching news. 

He was leaving. 

“I have to go back to the states to finish this film in three days,” he muttered into the quiet air of the book store he had grown so familiar with, “and I won’t be back for at least two months.” 

Y/N could physically feel her heart drop in unison with the butterflies in her stomach. He was leaving, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. 

She had given him a sad smile and taken a thoughtful sip of the tea sitting on her desk. 

“Oh well. Guess I’ll see you in two months, right?” 

"Yeah,” Ben said with a grimace, “right.” 

--

The two of them spent those last few days talking quickly; trying to fit as many words into as little amount of time as possible. It felt like they were suffocating with how fast they were talking and how fast the conversation was moving. Her head would hurt at trying to process so many conversations and stories and little peccadilloes the pair were hurling at each other. 

It was like they were making up for the time the two of them knew they were going to lose. 

On Ben’s last day, Y/N told him of her fear of love and the lack thereof in her life. She told him of her strong desire to be able to relate to the John Green quote. He didn’t say much to that. 

She was so in love with him. And she didn’t think he was in love with her. 

His flight was at 1:00 that day. He left at noon instead of 11:30. Y/N felt her heartbeat increase as the seconds passed by for that last half hour, almost like she was genuinely frightened of him leaving. 

He said goodbye with the first hug the pair ever shared and a light kiss to the top of the head. Y/N’s face was comparable to a fire hydrant. 

Ben swore he would keep in contact, but with the differing time zones, Y/N knew deep down that wouldn’t happen. 

So, with a heavy heart, she caught up on some things around the shop she had been slacking on these past few weeks. 

She blinked away the tears in her eyes a few times, mentally shaming herself for being so upset this man she met three months earlier was leaving. She should’ve known. Or even better, she should’ve said something. 

The girl watched in agony as the clock hit 1:00 that afternoon, and felt a pang in her chest as she thought of him jetting far, far, away from her. 

He would never remember her. She was a quiet girl who worked in a quiet bookshop that was located in a quiet corner of an even quieter town. There was nothing she could do. 

She started sweeping lazily, letting the broom lightly drag across the floor. She didn’t even acknowledge the fact that she wasn’t sweeping anything up. 

She almost peed her pants, though, when a loud noise sounded throughout the otherwise empty bookshop and the door was thrown open the fastest it’s been in its entire life. So fast, in fact, that it fell off its hinges and onto the floor, simultaneously shattering the glass panes that made up the middle.

The girl stumbled backward in shock, her heart pumping not only because of the loud noise, but also because of the person who broke the door. 

Ben. 

The widest smile to ever adorn her pretty face was stretching across her lips. In an adrenaline filled moment, she was off the floor and in his arms. He was stiff and shocked at first, but almost immediately melted into her strangely warm embrace. 

“What are you doing? Your flight was supposed to leave 15 minutes ago!” Y/N exclaimed, the confusion finally finding its way to her intricate brain. 

“I-I couldn’t do it. Not without telling you something first.” 

Y/N’s heart was beating so hard she swore he could see it pounding out of her chest like it does in the cartoons. 

“There’s really no easy way to do this, but here goes nothing,” Ben spoke, clearing his throat, “Y/N, I know we haven’t known each other for that long but I really, really, really like y-” 

Before the beautiful, perfect man could finish his sentence, Y/N was pushing her lips against his in a mad frenzy to release a tension that had been palpable for months. 

Ben melted into the kiss faster than he melted into the hug, his lips moving against hers oh-so-perfectly. 

It felt like they were made to be together. 

It felt like Y/N had been searching for the final puzzle piece to her life for 27 years, and now here she was, standing in the middle of the bookshop on the corner with the glass door shattered on the floor, finally finishing her life-long puzzle. 

“I think I love you.”

“I think I love you too,” she whispered into the quiet that had again settled over the bookstore. 

Maybe Y/N didn’t fall in love while watching Ben read, as John Green said one of his characters did. But she did fall in love like she fell asleep. 

Slowly, then all at once. 

[melacka]

Hey @crisblcklst​! I tried to answer your ask and then experienced a whole range of rather frustrating technical issues. Isn’t tumblr fun?!?!

Anyway...

You asked for Lizzington and NAP for the i love you prompts.

‘i love you’ prompts

Thanks for the prompt! It took me a while but I got there! I have written you a Season 3A, on the run, bed sharing, accidental date night fic. Also, it is way longer than I planned. Hope you enjoy!

You can read it here on AO3 or keep reading below.

Title: Date Night by Melacka

Summary: “Who would’ve thought that one thing that would come  out of this whole thing would be an evening spent on the couch eating  Chinese food and watching Casablanca.” Liz laughed and scooped some  noodles into her mouth. “Next thing you’re going to tell me we’re going  dancing.”

Liz and Red share an accidental date night while on the run.

They’d shared a bed a few times since they’d been on the run. The necessity of it made it easier for her to deal with. She could compartmentalise this fairly easily. It was absolutely necessary that she share a bed with him and therefore she would make it no more difficult than it absolutely had to be. They were closer now than she ever thought they could be, he had allowed her to see parts of him that he had kept so carefully hidden before. Another necessity most likely requiring compartmentalisation on his part. She knew that there were probably lots of secrets that she was not yet privy to. She knew, too, that she might never really know the whole truth about him and his history with her. She tried to make herself be okay with that, but it was a constant battle.

She suspected that he was uncomfortable being this close to her all the time, but she didn’t know if it was the same discomfort that he would feel with anyone or if it was specific to her. She tried to take her cue from him, tried to make things easier for him, but he was always so good at hiding what he was thinking that most of the time she had to rely on her own instincts. It bothered her because her instincts had become alarmingly unreliable recently. She didn’t have the time these days to indulge her self-doubt too often, so she was just doing the best she could. She watched him closely for any signs of discomfort or unease and tried to adjust her behaviour accordingly. She was so completely dependent on him right then and she couldn’t afford to jeopardise the fragile peace they’d achieved in the midst of all the chaos.

When he told her that they would have to share a bed for the first time, she could tell that he was worried about her reaction. She made a point of smiling reassuringly at him and tried to keep her instinctive panic from showing in her eyes. She hadn’t shared a bed with anyone other than Tom in years and she’d recently become so used to sleeping alone again. Her sleep was often disturbed by nightmares that she struggled to wake up from and she worried about Red seeing that. She didn’t even want to think about what secrets she might reveal just by sleeping beside him.

That first time had been difficult. Apart from that one night in the shipping container that they never spoke about, she’d rarely even been in the same room as him while sleeping, let alone the same bed. They were both almost ridiculously considerate of each other, respecting the other’s space and maintaining as much distance as possible in the small bed. Liz went to bed first and, by unspoken agreement, Red waited long enough for her to get settled and have a chance at falling asleep before he joined her. She was still awake when he quietly entered the room nearly an hour later, but she kept her face turned away and her breathing as deep and even as she could manage. She doubted that it fooled him, but the fiction was as much for her benefit as it was for him, so she’d kept it up until she’d actually fallen asleep. She’d felt a strange comfort in having him beside her, the warmth of his body and the rhythmic sounds of his breathing made her feel almost like she was home again.

The second time they shared a bed was better. Easier. Red was more matter of fact and there was less of an air of apology in his face and voice when he told her. She reacted better as well, she had been more prepared for the possibility and slightly more comfortable with the idea. She still feigned sleep when he came to bed and wore a lot more clothes than she’d normally bother with but told herself that it was only for security reasons. She figured that the few extra seconds it would take to put on her pants could be crucial in their escape, should it suddenly become necessary. Besides, Red slept practically fully clothed as well.

The third time they shared a bed, it wasn’t because they had to.

Red had been required to go out to meet a contact and he had encouraged her to stay at the safe house. Liz couldn’t figure out if it was because he was worried about her being seen out in public or because he just needed to have some time away from her. Either way, she’d been perfectly willing to go along with it. They’d been on the move almost constantly for the last three weeks, and she was happy to have a quiet night in. Relatively speaking, of course.

Two hours after he left, she felt like she was going out of her mind. She’d become so accustomed to Red’s presence that she felt jumpy and on edge with him gone. She checked and rechecked all the locks on the windows and doors and kept her gun close by her side. She tried to watch TV but found the noise distracting rather than soothing and so switched to reading a book. Every safe house they stayed in at least some books in it and she’d read more in the last few weeks than she’d managed to in the last three years. Her job and all its resultant distractions and dramas had kept her from some of the simpler pleasures she used to enjoy.

Just as she was headed to the kitchen to fetch a glass of wine, she heard the front door open quietly. She moved quickly to the dark hall and silently extracted her gun from her jeans. She stood, tense and ready, waiting for whoever it was to move into the light. Liz slowed her breathing with an effort and forced herself to calm down. It was probably just Red, but one thing she’d learned on the run was not to trust probabilities. And if it wasn’t Red, she’d need a clear head to extract herself from the situation.

“Lizzy?” Red called out. “Where are you?”

She let out a breath, relieved more than she cared to admit that he was back.

“Hey,” she said quietly, stepping out of the hallway and into the light.

Red raised his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed the gun in her hands. She slipped it back into the back of her jeans and smiled.

“Can’t be too careful.”

“Very true,” he agreed, moving quickly to the kitchen. “I’m just glad that your abundance of caution didn’t lead to any unfortunate accidents. Bullet wounds can be terribly awkward to explain away, you know.”

Liz stared after him, open-mouthed, unable to find anything to say in response to that.

“Are you hungry? I’ve brought you some food.”

She trailed after him curiously, peering into the plastic bag as he got out plates and cutlery.

“What is it?”

“Chinese food, Lizzy,” he said quietly. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself and as much as I dislike the idea of encouraging bad habits—”

“Since when?” she scoffed.

“Bad eating habits,” he continued smoothly. “I want you to eat something tonight, and Chinese food seemed like the safest option.”

Liz grinned and hopped up on the counter, extracting one of the containers of food and opening it eagerly. Red took it from her with a disapproving frown, closing it quickly as Liz scowled at him.

“Hey!” she protested. “I wanted that!”

She tried to grab it but he held it teasingly out of reach.

“Now, now, Lizzy,” he chided. “Do be civilised. How about you go and select a movie for us to watch and I will prepare the food?”

“You want to watch a movie?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind?”

“No! Of course, I don’t mind,” Liz said quickly, not quite able to cover her disbelief. “And you want me to choose it?”

“Well, I chose the food, it seems only fair.”

He shooed her out of the kitchen, and she left without complaint. When he joined her a few minutes later, she was just sliding the DVD into the player.

“Tell me the truth,” she said, sitting on the couch and picking up the remote. “Did you let me choose the movie because you knew that all the movies here are ones you would want to watch?”

“Really, Lizzy, this suspicious nature of yours—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Just give me my food, okay?”

He handed her a plate and she pressed play on the remote. He smiled at her and she grinned back.

“Who would’ve thought, huh?”

“Who would’ve thought, what?” he asked curiously.

“Who would’ve thought that one thing that would come out of this whole thing would be an evening spent on the couch eating Chinese food and watching Casablanca.” Liz laughed and scooped some noodles into her mouth. “Next thing you’re going to tell me we’re going dancing.”

“Dancing, Lizzy?”

“To really make it a proper date night,” she said teasingly. “Dinner, a movie, and dancing.”

“I’ll take you dancing any time you want to, Lizzy,” Red replied softly. “Just say the word.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She looked down at herself and shrugged. “You should probably give me more warning, next time. I can make myself look more presentable if we’re going dancing.”

“Nonsense,” he said gallantly. “You look beautiful.”

Liz blushed and looked down.

“You’re not just saying that because you feel sorry for me?”

“Why would I feel sorry for you?”

“You’re kidding, right?” she said incredulously.

Red shrugged and kept his eyes on the screen as he spoke.

“You made a choice, Lizzy, and you’re living with the consequences of that choice. Do I wish you hadn’t been put in the position where you felt the need to make that choice? Of course. Do I feel sorry for you? Absolutely not.”

Liz watched him in silence, chewing thoughtfully on her food.

“Besides,” he said in a lighter tone, “do you know how many women would kill to be in the position you’re in right now?”

Liz choked slightly and then burst out laughing.

“I’m going to ignore that appalling choice of words, Red, and instead focus on the message behind them.”

“Very wise,” Red agreed solemnly, settling back on the sofa and balancing his plate on his knees. “And what message have you chosen to see in my words today?”

“Today, I choose to believe that you have my best interests at heart and that I should be grateful for the opportunity to have a quiet night in with you. How’s that?”

“Very near perfect, Lizzy.”

She nodded her satisfaction and leaned back on the sofa next to him, allowing her body to brush up gently against his. It was practically a real date night, after all. No reason to maintain strict distance between them. He casually draped an arm along the back of the sofa, and she took the hint, settling herself into his side with a sigh.

“Lizzy.”

“Hmm?” she said sleepily.

“Lizzy, it’s time for bed, sweetheart.”

Liz mumbled something incoherent and drifted off to sleep again.

“Lizzy, come on.”

“Red?”

“Yes, I’m going to take you to bed, okay?”

Liz grinned, her eyes still closed, and said, “Like a real date night.”

“Come on, now,” Red said quietly, ignoring her comment. “Stand up.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Lizzy,” he sighed. “Please.”

She finally opened her eyes and realised that she was cuddled into Red’s side, her face mere inches from his. She lurched back in surprise.

“Oh!” she cried. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s alright, Lizzy,” Red reassured her with a gentle sigh. “Let me take you to bed.”

She stood up shakily and smoothed down her hair, noticing that the movie had ended.

“How long was I asleep?”

“About an hour.” Red stood up and stretched his arms quickly. “I thought it was better to let you sleep.”

“Thanks,” she said, still feeling embarrassed.

“I’m just going to tidy up in here,” Red continued briskly, piling up their plates and glasses on the table. “Why don’t you go and get ready for bed? I’ll just do a quick security check and then go to bed myself.”

Liz nodded and wandered off to the bathroom. She washed her face quickly and brushed her teeth. She could hear Red in the kitchen and was just about to go and offer to help him when he knocked gently at the bathroom door.

“Lizzy?”

She opened the door and smiled at him, absurdly shy all of a sudden.

“I’m going to do a sweep of the house. Can you make sure you check the locks on the windows in your bedroom?”

“Of course.”

He nodded and walked away. Liz sighed and wandered into her bedroom. She quickly changed clothes and checked the windows were still securely locked. Then, hesitating slightly, she opened the door to her room. She was hoping that Red would come by to check on her once more before turning in.

She sat on the bed and started to brush her hair, the slow, rhythmic strokes calming her agitation. After a few minutes, Red knocked on the doorframe and peered inside.

“All secure,” he reassured her.

She nodded and put the brush down. She looked at him with a smile and patted the bed next to her. He hesitated for a moment and then entered the room, taking the space next to her. She reached out and grasped his hand, holding it tight in her own.

“Lizzy? Did you need something?”

“Red,” she whispered, not quite knowing what had come over her. “You said you were going to take me to bed.”

“Lizzy,” he said, a warning clear in his voice.

“You don’t lie to me, Red,” she continued, unperturbed. “Take me to bed.”

“Lizzy, please, don’t—”

She turned his face towards hers and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. She pulled back and searched his face, looking for any indication that he didn’t want her to continue. He looked at her seriously but didn’t try to stop her when she leaned forward again. This time, she kissed him for longer. His lips parted and she moaned in relief. He allowed the kiss to continue for a few more moments before he pulled away again, his breathing heavy and his eyes wild.

“Lizzy,” he gasped. “I will not take advantage of you like this.”

She smiled and shook her head. She trailed a hand down his shoulder, exploring his arm with interest.

“Red, how would it be taking advantage of me? I’m the one who started this.”

“Things happen when you’re on the run, Lizzy, things you might think the better of later.” He grasped both her hands in his, preventing them from wandering any further over his body. She pouted at him playfully. “I won’t be something you regret, Elizabeth.”

Liz froze, a blush rising in her cheeks.

“Oh.” She looked down at their joined hands and bit her lip. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Red said. “But now isn’t the time for this to happen.” He released her hands and cupped her face gently, encouraging her to look at him. “When this is all over—”

He left the sentence unfinished and she felt a small hope kindle in her chest.

“When this is over?” she prompted.

“If you still want—” he trailed off, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“If I still want you, you mean?”

“When you’ve had time to think it through, think about what you really want.”

“And if I tell you then that what I really want is you,” Liz said shrewdly. “Will you believe me?”

Red smiled at her, but it was a pained smile.

“You should go to sleep, Lizzy. We’ll have to move on in the morning.”

“Will you believe me?” Liz searched his face desperately, not willing to let this go just yet.

Red sighed and nodded slightly.

“I’ll try.”

Liz leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I guess that’ll have to do,” she said sadly. “For now, at least.”

Red chuckled and stood up.

“Good night, Lizzy.”

“Red?” she said quietly, almost timidly. “Will you stay here with me?”

He considered her in silence for a long moment, seeming to wage a furious battle within himself while she waited. Hopeful. Eventually, he nodded.

“Get in bed, Lizzy,” he said quietly.

She flung the blankets back and lay down, still looking at him apprehensively, like she expected him to change his mind. He tucked the blankets around her securely and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Oh, Lizzy,” he breathed against her lips. “What you do to me.”

He switched off the light and then slid quickly into bed beside her, not removing any clothing. Liz smiled in the dark as he lined his body up beside hers, spooning her carefully, his hand resting gently against her stomach.

“Don’t leave me, Red,” Liz whispered once they were settled. “Don’t ever leave me.”

Red pressed a kiss to the back of her head.

“Don’t worry, Lizzy,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[prorevenge]

Revenge for the boss from hell. 30k+ payable to me, thanks.

Greetings,

I posed this story once before in days past but deleted it in fear legal reasons. I’ve revised it and feel more comfortable sharing. I enjoy the heck out of this blog along with @r-maliciouscompliance and @petty-revenge-stories. I can tell you as a long time lurker this story is worth the read for the most deserved revenge.

TLDR: Boss was a d*ckhead all the time, then insulted me while I was eating lunch with a client in public. I painfully planned and executed a plan to make him pay me over 30,000 dollars as punishment , I was successful.

I worked for this small business IT Consulting firm for seven years. Owned and operated by a person we will call d*ck.

First two years things were fine. Occasionally this guy would take things a little too far, he was just passionate about his opinion and always had to be right, so I’d always give him that. I don’t have to agree but I saw his need and left it at that.

What I started to discover however is the turn over for the company is a couple of years and I began to realize why. The Boss (d*ck), picks one worker and makes it his life’s work to make that person as miserable as possible. I’m guessing the reason, ego purposes?

For months I’d hear him shouting all the time at this one guy. The co-worker after leaving the meeting would go back to his office from where I had a view and I could just see the stress and misery in his face. Till finally I said to him, “what the hell man? He’s always giving you a hard time here lately, what did you do?”

He didn’t seem to know. He confided in me right there the level of hell he’s in and some of the things d*ck has said or done. I couldn’t believe some of the details he shared on what d*ck both said and did. I felt things were embellished because people just don’t do some of the things he said. I would realize much later he was telling the truth as crazy as it sounded.

A few months later he finally found another job and left. I talk to him couple times a year and he always said it was the best choice in his life he ever made.

d*ck’s sights then narrowed on to me. I can take a lot. So for the next five years I took it. He would insult me pretty much every day, each day more and more colorful. I didn’t really care or take it home with me so it wasn’t a problem for me, for d*ck I would learn it was.

Unrelated, five years in I put in my notice because he asked me to get a couple certifications and if I did he would take care of me. Once I did what was requested he backed out of the agreement and played coy. Once he received my notice a couple months later he called me up within a minute, begged me to stay. It’s important to note he only asked for two certifications, I not only obtained those but an addional fourteen on top of that. Each time he would tell me “Great job, you will be well taken care of”. He lied 16 times in total on this matter. He matched the offer and increased my Salary up another 15k. Not looking forward to starting a new job I decided to stay.

What I learned is I was a fool to do that and money isn’t everything. Go where you’ll be the most happy. Best life advice I can give after this experience.

He left me alone for a couple months after that, he wasn’t in the office much either. Then a day struck his fancy to start things up again only he ran out of material. My work is solid and he had no opportunity to criticize that.

The only method he had was bashing his ego and sarcasm around but he realized it had no impact on me. Here is a Brief snippet of any given day of what it’s like to be selected as his target. He would communicate a problem he was having in length. Let’s say he complained about his cell phone. After he finished his story you would provide a helpful suggestion or advice from your experience. In turn he would ask with an entitled and sarcastic tone if you were an expert on the matter and wanted to see those credentials. I learn fast, just never speak unless spoken too. Any comment or insult he made I would respond without emotion and just say ok.

Because d*ck wasn’t able to get a rise out of me the old fashioned way he decided to create fictional content for a new direction.

Our small company would go out to eat as a whole, or just order in on Fridays. I ate half my sandwich, and wrapped the remaining to take home. He saw me with leftover food and claimed that I was taking home dinner on his dime. Any time there was any leftover, even a single French fry he’d be there with a magnify glass for inspection to find any conceivable way to yell.

So on Fridays I started packing my lunch, I’d order a beverage and a side. I’d finish the beverage and the side. Then eat what I brought, if I didn’t finish it he had no opportunity. You could see his look of disappointment when he would scan my plate.

This went on a couple weeks, he had no opportunity and couldn’t complain. He realized he failed again. So then he came up with the next item.

The Bathroom. This I actually did a little research on and couldn’t find anything legally I could do. But anytime anyone would use the rest room he would blame me for the smell. Instead of hello when passing in the highway he would say “Did you use spray” or “Did you light a match” as hateful as he could, but that was his normal. It went much deeper than this, more then I care to share. But I honestly believe d*ck has a fetish on this topic which is why I looked in to it legally. It was just always on his mind and a little too important to him, let’s just leave the rest unsaid.

I must have visually tipped him off I didn’t approve of this because he never got bored with it. However I did at least get him to stop asking about if I used spray. Anytime I used the bathroom, even to take a piss I’d use the entire can of air freshener. This wasn’t an easy task as I’d have to mask my face to empty that entire thing. Takes a while surprisingly to empty an entire can in a session. One thing is for certain when I was finished, someone used the “spray” and d*ck was buying a new can. Took about five weeks but I think he figured it out spending so much on spray, he stuck to just asking about matches after that. He even provided them in the bathroom.

One day we were out with a client. The current topic at this moment was “what is your favorite meal? My answer was “hot wings, I could eat those every day!” d*ck jumps in, his comment “Just think how bad the bathroom would smell”. Most at table wouldn’t get the context and direction of that comment, but I knew. He did this in front of a client, in public, while people are eating.

I almost walked out. Then I remembered he drove and it’s a long way back. Plus d*ck is over 60, what kind of person knocks out a senior? I had to chant that in my mind to keep control. I never get pissed but after years this was the last straw! I seriously pleaded with myself all day not to do it because I’d go to jail and he would win.

During this time period he also started playing with my money. Behind 4-5 months with reimbursement, week late on paychecks, stuff like that. You ask where it’s out, he says “next week” you explain he already said that last week, then he’d play coy.

I finished out the day without reacting somehow. Took everything I had but I’m not going to allow this to be unanswered. That was dangerous and too close. If he want’s trouble, I’ll give it to him! I will get even in a lawful way, somehow.

Then the idea came to me that night, did my research and odds were in my favorite that it could work. I’m just going to mirror him until he fires me. When he fires me he will have to pay half my current salary of 65k until I get a new job. You know what? I can live perfectly fine on 32.5k. Why not make him pay out of his pocket 32.5k for everything he had said and done? He would have to pay this over the course of six months or until I found a new job. So my goal was to make him pay me $32,500 to be exact over 6 months as restitution for what he said at that table.

I read up on all the rules in my state for Unemployment. Each state is different. But basically to qualify for it, it can’t be your fault if you were fired. So If I stood there and told him where to put it, that’s a no go. However if I was laid off I would qualify.

So I hit him where it hurt first, his favorite thing in the world is meetings. Because he loves to hear himself talk and take you step by step through his thought process with a noble tone congratulating himself for his thinking and why his way is the best way. So I started speaking up and illustrated a more efficient way that cost less.

He would argue, sometimes red in the face mad. Especially if others in the meeting liked my idea. He knew he was wrong but he would dismiss them and demand it be done his way.

I then started talking about him within ear shot on purpose. I’d say things like “Make sure you perform that d*cks way, takes longer but it’s better than him releasing the Kraken”. It would make everyone laugh, but it wasn’t a direct insult.

Trust me when I say this guy has a massive ego and I was counting on this for pissing him off. I laid it on thick, in time it took its toll. I knew it did because what came next.

His retaliation was the kitchen sink, he had nothing so he started accusing me of things, then playing coy when it came to reviewing the details or facts. He would put words in my month, I’d state he was wrong and then he would tell me I was. All he was doing was opening the door so he could play a revengeful sarcasm game. I know it’s a game so I decided to take his new toy away from him by just going along with whatever it is he said. Which further made him mad because what he was doing had no effect on me.

Fast forward six months, yes I’m STILL working here. But were only receiving a couple calls a day which are fifteen minutes each. This was due to d*ck’s bad business discussions.

While I took delight knowing he was hemorrhaging money for months, I was hoping for a lay off to execute my plan. Nothing. I have to make him want to fire me, it’s the only way. I have to beat him at his own game while providing the illusion he is in control.

So I turned up the heat. I was asked to travel to a client by the 2nd in command. I said “I’m sorry man, I haven’t received reimbursement in six months for travel expenses and I just had my work cell phone service turned off. With the way business is right now things aren’t looking good, I’d be stupid to take on more expenses, and I’m owed over two thousand dollars as it is. Once that’s paid in full I’d be more than happy to continue on a week to week bases after reimbursements”.

That day d*ck had a meeting with me and setup a payment plan to pay the money back. After three weeks it would be paid. So I said to d*ck “understood, after three weeks I’ll be on the road again, cool” just making sure he understood because he wanted to play games and not pay the amount in full d*ck is now going to pay me my salary for three weeks to do nothing until the reimbursement fee is paid.

Guy has a several million dollar house, goes on vacations has a boats, etc. Out of all the things I’ve done so far, this had made the most significant impact. Because I out whit him at his own game, it embarrassed him in the eyes of others. Why? Because the second of command was instructed to drive me anywhere I was needed. So I had my own personal Taxi driver for the few calls we had over the next two weeks. Two weeks he paid two people, me and the admin to drive and watch me work. I was friends with the admin and he knew exactly what I was doing and he loved every second of it.

Then on the third week, three days until the final payment, it happens. d*ck enters my office, and gives me the filmier demeaning dog wave gesture to follow him without speaking. We sit down and he asks me what the problem is?

I told him the problem is he needs a new hobby. In one hand you have someone sitting here that busted his ass for the last seven years, in the other your need to bash someone’s face in the dirt with your ego. The problem with me is I won’t conform and provide both.

He asked for some examples. I said you know what I’m talking about and even if I did review them you’d play coy. He then played coy about being coy, I laughed.

After a pause He said if you feel that way why didn’t you speak to me about it? I reminded him that I did twice and both times you humiliated me for it and said “this is I.T!” What the I.T Career that I’ve done the last twenty years had to do with his ego I’ll never know.

He responded with I’m behind the times, my work has been poor and out of the kindness of his heart he gave me a raise after I demanded it. I responded with Ok.

Then he finally said what I wanted to hear “I want to call it quits”.

I remained professional and communicated I’m sorry things didn’t work out and spent the next two hours reviewing stuff with co-workers on how to handle certain things. I shook his hand with a smile and left without saying anything negative. The fruit of my labor will do the talking for me shortly.

In route on the way home I called family members to tell them the good news. Everyone was so happy for me. It finally happened.

When I arrived home I promptly adjusted the dates on the unemployment forms I had filled out already in wait and submitted them. I called the state and confirmed everything was documented on my end accurately and now it’s the waiting game.

My plan wasn’t realized until my boss receive the letter in the mail about a week later stating he’s going to have shell out my Salary for the next six months or until I found a job.

Panicked at this point he realized what I set him up for. So He claimed he fired me for poor work performance. The state said, ok prove it. In this state it’s the employers’ burden to prove it. My record had no blemishes and he couldn’t use a client because a number of people at any given client would vouch for me and the truth as they all liked me and appreciated my work.

Realizing the shit storm he’s in now I’m told from the admin friend he was on the phone with them quite a while twisting and turning the fake stories out. Bottom line, the state needed to see documented verbal and written warnings, signed so he couldn’t fake them. He called his lawyer and his lawyer told him he’s screwed.

Later my boss told co-workers he felt bad for me that I couldn’t find work and he decided to give unemployment to me to save face of his ego. That made official that his ego was effected, he didn’t want anyone to know the truth. At this point he realized I got the better of him when I fought back and I won, big!

In a last ditch effort he lied about how much I made. The state sent me paper work stating this fact and asked me to prove my salary. So I gave them copies of checks and pay stubs for the last six months. After that things went easy, he was flagged for lying which made the reaming steps effortless the state rep told me.

For the reason I was terminated I said “d*ck the owner made some poor business discussions that impacted the company losing business and clients. He let me go as a business discussion, in his shoes I’d of done the same and understand.”

I wrote it that way for a reason. But d*ck didn’t realize why. I knew what his reaction would be. The state saw a down to earth guy that was honest and understanding on paper. Then they saw d*cks predicted response of being a d*ck, most likely yelling and of course lying. I had no doubt that would seal the deal simply on the evaluation on character before the facts even entered in to it.

His reaction being, his ego had to take it up the ass. Once for failing as a business man, another for me saying so on state paper work, and lastly accepting that I got the better of him and all this time I have been coaxing him to make this move.

The only thing left to do is pay me, every single week. And his money goes to the state first then the state sends it to me, so he can’t play games with my money or the state is coming after him.

Over the next six months I took that time to enjoy myself, pursue hobbies and lived life to the fullest on his dime as a reward for his comment. Once the letter came to renew unemployment, d*ck would no longer have to pay or only a parentage I forget, the important thing to know is tax payers would have to pay after six months not d*ck. So I declined the renewal. Three weeks later I had a new job.

It was either that or knock him out during that lunch, It wasn’t easy, took work but I’m proud of the way I handled it. I feel vindicated, it’s pretty rare the world is balanced, evil often wins. But not this time. This time it cost d*ck, 32,500 dollars to be exact. All in all I can say 10/10 would do it again.

Due to his age I can’t imagine that it would be a humbling experience at this point. But it was for me, money isn’t everything, there is only one thing of true value, your happiness. A year later, I’m very happy now, I enjoy my new job and my new boss. I discovered myself again, who I really am. The goofy friendly guy, my light is no longer dimmed by a dark presence and I can be myself without punishment.

(source) (story by Divine_Squire)

[feelingfredly]

The Fox Guards the Wolf

Chasing Tails

Part Fourteen

Kisuke suppressed a sigh and picked up the pizza box.  It looked like Ichigo wasn’t coming after all.

He had to admit he was a little surprised.  He hadn’t expected Taka-chan’s brand of persuasion to work so well on the redhead, but then Ichigo didn’t have any history with the man. He looked normal enough.   Successful. An empire builder.

Unfortunately, he was also a psychopath.

Another sigh threatened. Was it really too much to ask to have one thing in his life that Okura Kagetaka couldn’t ruin?

Kisuke? Yoruichi murmured in his ear. Ichigo just arrived downstairs.

Apparently not. The pizza box trembled a little in his hand.

He was probably heading up to his apartment.  There was no reason to expect him to…

“Oh, thank God, yes! Give me that!” Ichigo exploded through his door on a wave of kinetic energy and Kisuke spun on his heel, holding the box up to grabby hands. “I am starving.  This whole super spy gig takes way too much effort.”

Kisuke stepped back from the table and watched Ichigo slip into a chair at his table and inhale a slice of pizza. “Super spy gig?”

Your heart rate has risen ten percent. Yoruichi said, but Kisuke ignored her. It wasn’t important. Ichigo had come.

“Mmmmm,” he moaned around the bite in his mouth and Kisuke shook his head. No one should enjoy pizza that much.

“Yeah,” he swallowed, “I had a bitch of a time getting rid of the Yakuza following me. At least I think it was one of Mamushi’s men, but it could have been someone else, I guess.  Whoever it was, he stuck to me like Yuzu when she wants me to buy ice cream.”

He ate his second piece slower, apparently now convinced that it wouldn't disappear if he didn’t eat fast enough.

“Once I lost him, I went to the gym. The cleaning guy knows me, and he let me in to call Renji from their phone.  Luckily he was studying so he didn’t mind the interruption.”

As the second piece disappeared, so did the edge of Ichigo’s frantic energy.

“He was already at the apartment, so that made the next part easier, but still.” He pushed back from the table a little. “I had to explain some of what was going on and honestly, considering how little I actually know about what’s going on, that didn’t go so well.”

He shrugged a little and didn’t meet Kisuke’s eyes, and the blond could tell he wanted to ask a thousand questions, but he wasn’t going to push.  Yet.  He wasn’t going to wait for very long, though.

“Okura-san told me to have the papers looked over, so…”

Kisuke interrupted. “I’m sorry. Papers?”

Ichigo’s eyebrows rose a fraction.  “Oh yeah.  You don’t know about that.  Huh.  I guess I’m too used to you knowing everything.”

That was a loaded statement if Kisuke'd ever heard one. It was fair, though.

“Focus, Ichigo, if you would.  What papers?”

Ichigo took an extra-large bite and stared at Kisuke challengingly, forcing him to wait while he chewed.  It had been a long time since anyone had been so openly defiant with him.  Probably since Yoruichi had left on her current mission. It was… cute.

“I am sorry, Ichigo-kun,” he bowed his head a little, quietly teasing the redhead in return, “whenever you’re ready.”

Ichigo swallowed and shook his head.  “Like I’m ever going to be ready for you.” He froze realizing what he said, and Kisuke couldn’t stop a grin from forming.  Ichigo apparently decided that ignoring it was safer than denying it, and rushed on.

“Well, Okura-san tried to convince me that you were a dangerous man who had broken in to their labs and stolen or destroyed his work.  He claimed the two men who jumped you at Como’s were over-zealous employees there to escort you to a meeting he'd arranged to try to get his property back, and they were only there as a safety precaution because you’re too dangerous to be allowed to come alone. Then he bemoaned the fact that I, a poor defenseless bystander,had been involved, and cried mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.”

“He said that since it was only because of his employees’ mistakes that I was entangled in this brouhaha, he wanted to make sure that I had the financial wherewithal to escape  your clutches, now that you’ve decided I am a useful pawn.”

He put down the remainder of his pizza slice and Kisuke moved into the kitchen to grab a napkin for him.

“Thanks.” He wiped his hands clean and looked at Kisuke.  His eyes were well-lit by the overhead lamp, and Kisuke could just see the little golden freckle that sat in the corner of one of the warm brown irises. “He gave me a settlement offer of eleven million yen to ‘cover damages’ and then a potential future position within the Okura keiretsu that would pay my tuition to med school, when I decide I want to go back.”

The two men stared at each other silently for a moment.

“Then he suggested that I have someone I trust look over the papers, so I gave them to Renji.  He’ll go over them and make sure there’s nothing hidden in the legalese, like selling the guy my first-born son or something.  He seems like the type who’d do something like that.”

Kisuke felt something in his chest loosen at the words.  Ichigo hadn’t believed Taka after all.

“Children have never been Taka-chan’s currency of choice, but I learned long ago not to put anything past him.”

Ichigo snorted at that.  “Yeah, he did the whole song and dance routine with enough skill that it was clearly something he’d practiced long and hard.  Only people who have things to hide go to that much trouble.”

Kisuke wondered if he was that transparent to Ichigo.  He’d practiced dissembling even longer and, arguably, to just as troublesome ends as his misguided protégé.

“Stop that.” Ichigo stood and walked the few steps into the kitchen proper, grabbing a water glass from the shelf and filling it from the tap. “You’re not the same.”

Kisuke looked at his defender and shook his head with a sad smile. “How can you be so sure, Ichigo-kun?  I am not, and I’ve lived in my own head for quite a long time.”

Ichigo rinsed the glass and placed it on the drain board. “That’s your problem.  You’ve been stuck in your head with all this crap for years.  It’s no wonder you can’t see it.”

He started putting the leftover pizza away with the economical movements of experience, and Kisuke wondered whether it was a skill he'd developed during his time raising his sisters, or from bachelor life.

“Can’t see what?” Kisuke was almost afraid to ask.

Ichigo wet a dishcloth and moved to wipe down the table. “That you’re not Dr. Frankenstein, and if this guy, Okura, is a monster, he isn’t your creation.”

His face was unusually serious, the mobile lips held tightly as he stared at Kisuke, trying to make him understand.

“He didn’t tell you anything that was too far from the truth, Ichigo-kun.” He didn’t ever want Ichigo to feel like he’d lied to him. “I have broken into his offices and destroyed things.  I have thwarted him at every turn, and I have every intention of continuing to do so. I am not innocent in all this.”

Ichigo rinsed the towel and wrung it out, placing it carefully, and Kisuke could see the tension in the other man’s posture.

“The bastard knew about my dad.  My sisters.  He very carefully didn’t threaten them, if you know what I mean.”  His eyes darkened and Kisuke was surprised by the depth of anger he could see there. “If you hadn’t set yourself against him, I’d be very disappointed, anata.”

***

Ichigo spent the next hour recounting details.  Kisuke loved details.  Luckily, Ichigo had a good memory.

“The butler was impressive. I’m pretty sure she was armed—it looked like an asp like mine, maybe the shorter version?—and even Masuda-san was careful around her.” He shook his head, remembering the Yakuza’s warning. “When a gangster says to be careful around someone, I’ve learned it’s in my best interest to listen.”

Kisuke nodded. “Not a bad lesson to learn. How long did it take you to learn it?”

Ichigo grumbled. “I learned it.  That’s what matters.”

Kisuke laughed, the first truly relaxed sound Ichigo had heard from him since he’d arrived.  “Very true.”

Ichigo had felt more than a little bit of pride when Kisuke complimented his actions after leaving Okura’s offices.  He’d half expected the blond to laugh at his gleaned-from-fiction approach to things—ditching his tail, switching computers, changing his clothes—but he’d just nodded and said, Good, good.  Did you take a shower?

Ichigo didn’t want to think about why he might have needed a shower; he might never leave the apartment again.

“I don’t think she touched me, but with the backpack it’s almost impossible to tell.  I wasn’t thinking about trackers or anything when I first got there, honestly.  It wasn’t until I was on the way out that I remembered how she followed me into the building rather than leading me.”

Kisuke moved to put water on for tea. “Is that why you left your bag at your old apartment?”

Ichigo nodded.  “I figured, if I wanted them to believe that I believed them—can this get any more convoluted?—I couldn’t come straight back here.  I could have gone to my dad’s, but that’s the last place I want their attention focused.”

“So,” he said, taking his mug and looking over the rim at Kisuke and sipping slowly, “you’re going to need to put new trackers or sensors or whatever it is you use on my new stuff.”

Kisuke’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.  “I would normally deny such behavior in the most strenuous of terms. However, since you wouldn’t believe me and I wouldn't insult you by insisting that it was true, I will simply agree and thank you for trusting me.”

Ichigo reached across the table and squeezed Kisuke’s hand. “You’re welcome.”  He let the corner of his lip quirk up in a half-smile. “Don’t fuck it up.”

Kisuke met his gaze and then bowed his head . “I will do my best not to.”

***

It was late before they finished the impromptu debriefing, and Kisuke could see Ichigo’s shoulders slumping. He wasn’t accustomed to this sort of thing and as sanguine as he was pretending to be, Kisuke knew it was taking its toll.

“Kisuke?” Ichigo asked.  “This thing you stole. What was it?”

The blond twisted in his seat so he could see Ichigo better. “Taka-chan was working with me when I first came up with the idea for Yoruichi.” He laughed a little. “Maybe I’d seen too many video games, but I was convinced that I could improve upon the normal concept of a security AI. You’ve seen a little of what Yoruichi can do hooked up to a known system.  The complete version allows someone to embed her into a system on the fly so you can use your enemies’ security against them.   It then runs a scorched earth protocol cutting all contacts with the existent hardware except for those that Yoruichi is using.  It basically subverts any computerized security system, turning it into a zombie for me to use.”

“He didn’t want to stop there.  Taka thought that accessing the system during an operation wasn’t enough. He thought we should use it, attack with it remotely, and leave the original system’s owner looking guilty of an unprovoked attack.”

Kisuke stirred a little restlessly.  “He always believed that pitting targets against each other was the way to destabilize situations enough that someone could come in and take over with minimal effort.”

Ichigo stiffened a little.  “Like the yakuza turf wars?”

Kisuke nodded.  “Exactly like that.  It started small.  I think he was experimenting.  He engineered a falling out between two Onmi agents.  One was reprimanded and lost his position.  He…” Kisuke paused and tried to find the best way of explaining, “he didn’t take it well.   He figured out that Taka was behind the machinations but couldn’t prove anything.  He tried to beat a confession out of him.  Taka allowed him to do substantial damage, and then pressed charges against him.”

Ichigo frowned. “Allowed? You mean he could have stopped it?”

Kisuke nodded. “Absolutely. Taka-chan was better than anyone in the Onmi at hand to hand combat—including me. He could have ended the assault in less than a minute, but he didn’t.  He wanted the injuries as testimony. He also knew that the constant reminder of the agent’s loss of control would make everyone else uneasy. It is his gift, you see, the ability to read his opponent.  However, it is also his greatest weakness.  Once he has evaluated a situation, he becomes inflexible.   Predictable.  But never underestimate him.”

“After that, I kept a closer eye on him.  I was impressed with his ability to read situations and people, but I disliked how little he considered the consequences of his actions on others.  The Director, though, saw his indifference as an asset.  When it became clear that the local yakuza groups were choosing to organize amongst themselves against law enforcement, he sent Taka in to shake things up.  It was a perfect fit in many ways.  Taka’s mother worked in the soaplands in Nakasu. She died when he was young, and he worked his way up from the lowest ranks into a position of relative respect by the time he was in his early teens. That was when I found him and persuaded him that a life outside the yakuza would be preferable. It wasn’t hard.  He hated the men who took advantage just because they could, not because they were better, or smarter, or even stronger. He knew he was smarter than any of the people he had to bow and scrape to, and it burned.  The Director knew it, knew Taka’s hatred for the yakuza and his penchant for creating chaos, and sent him out anyway.”

Ichigo frowned. “So, you’re saying that the Director wanted a turf war?”

Kisuke shrugged. “Turf war.  Assassination. Anything that would stop the gangs from working together.”

“And it didn’t matter who got hurt in the crossfire.” Ichigo rapped his knuckles on the table. “Like my mom.”

Kisuke sighed and nodded. “Like your mother. She knew the locals—some more than others—and believed that she could reason with them, but once Taka got into someone’s head, it rarely turned out well.”

Ichigo sat back and rolled his shoulders. “Sounds to me like it is time for your Taka-chan to learn a lesson about messing with people’s lives.”

Kisuke gave him a sideways look.  “He isn’t my Taka-chan, you know.”

Ichigo didn’t look at him. “But he was. You still call him Taka-chan," he practically spit the name out. "Clearly he means something to you.”

Kisuke moved closer and put his hand on Ichigo’s arm until he acknowledged him.

“You’re wrong, anata. There is nothing between us. Yes, he was interested in pursuing a relationship at one time, but it was never more than a question of politics and power, and that was not a game I have ever had the time or inclination to play.”

“As far as why I call him Taka-chan, I do it because it gets under his skin. He hates being subordinate to anyone, but at this point he truly hates being beaten by me. If he had his way, I would cast aside my too-familiar ways, grovel and call him Okura-dono as he so clearly deserves, and then beg him to allow me to follow him into his brave new order where the last man standing is the only one worthy.”

Ichigo appeared mollified, but Kisuke made a mental note to try to reinforce the message when he could. The last thing he wanted was for Ichigo to think there was some twisted attraction beneath the animosity between him and Taka-chan.

“The only thing that Okura Kagetaka is to me is a threat that must be dealt with.” He wanted Ichigo to understand.  Needed him to understand. “I might not have created the monster, but I gave him skills that he wouldn’t have had otherwise.  So, it falls to me to make sure he doesn’t use those skills to sew more chaos.”

The redhead looked at him and slowly nodded. “I can see that.  Just don’t get too caught up in it, okay? I’ve seen you working. I don’t think moderation or perspective were subjects they taught you in spy school.”

“No,” Kisuke couldn’t muffle a laugh. “No, they weren’t.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes until Ichigo turned to him and raised and eyebrow.

“I wonder… was there a class in how to steal your boyfriend’s clothes? Or did that skill just come naturally?” The sparkle was back in his eyes, the dark brown shining with amber again, and Kisuke smiled.

“Oh Ichigo, do you really need to ask? It comes naturally.” He slanted a wicked grin across the table. “Plus, if I’m wearing them, you can’t be.”

Ichigo blushed. “You are so full of it…”

Kisuke stood up and started walking down the hall.  “If you want it back,” he stopped in the bedroom door, “come and take it.”

His Ichigo was never one to back down from a challenge.

[storytimewithcort]

Libraries and Late Night Snacks (part 2)

Libraries and Late Night Snacks (part 2/2)

Fandom: Marvel, MCU

Basic Summary: lady Asgardian reader, been friends with the royal family for years. Then things shift between you and Loki and you both deal with those feelings. Some secret library kisses and jealousy ensue.

Pairing: Loki x Reader, and more Thor than intended, but he’s fun

Warnings: kisses need to be warned? Super light smut in part two, but its tame.

A/n: this is my first fiction in a very long time, so I may be rusty, but I had a lot of fun. I had this grand plan to do something really short and smutty with a jealous!Loki…but it developed into so much more content and barely any smut. But I like it. Please consider this story either set prior to the 1st Thor movie or completely AU.

Part 1

———————

That night in the library was nearly three weeks ago now. Not once had Loki offered to study or spar with you. Not once had he even spent any time with you. He would formally greet you when you came to the palace to visit, then disappear.

At first you tried desperately to get his attention, but he made it very clear he had no intention of talking to you at all. So after the first few awkward attempts at resolution, you gave up.

One night after spending the bulk of the afternoon helping Thor train, you slipped off to the gardens. You needed the chance to clear your mind.

The air was crisp, but not unpleasant. There always seemed to be a surprisingly comfortable breeze in the gardens and hills surrounding the palace. You sometimes wondered if there was a magical influence behind the lovely weather. You could weakly remember times as a young child when it would be raining by your small house on the south side of the city, but by the time you made it to the palace, the sky always cleared up and the breeze warmed your skin.

You wandered aimlessly, until you came up to a small hill that overlooked a rose garden before the the city raised up beyond the palace grounds. You sat down and took a few moments to look around. It seemed anyone who would normally be outside had already went inside for the evening.

After sitting lost in thought for at least half an hour, you sensed a presence followed by foot steps coming up to you. Looking over, you smiled as Thor plopped down next to you in the grass.

“You never came down to eat with us after training, are you feeling alright, y/n?”

You were touched by the genuine concern in his voice. “I’m alright” You assured him as best as you could, knowing it wasn’t exactly a true statement.

“I’m no expert, but most people do not sneak off into the evening alone when they are in fact feeling alright.” Thor’s voice was warm and friendly as well and you nodded to take in the observation as he spoke.

“I suppose not.” you sighed, “I just wanted sometime to think….and that is sometimes hard to do when I visit you all here.”

He suddenly sat up straighter, alarmed, “I always thought you enjoyed visiting us, I thought you liked your time in the palace of Odin.” He was looked at you straight on now, with the worried expression a puppy gets when it’s afraid it might be in trouble.

“I do, I do!” you confirmed quickly. “I love staying here and I love spending time with you and your family. Of course I do.”

“So you’re not feeling unwell and you do not dislike us….so why are you so upset?”

Sighing again, “I wouldn’t say I’m upset. I am just trying to understand some…things. Trying to sort out my own feelings about some things…and trying not to think about some things…at least until I understand those…things. Ugh. Make sense?”

He let out a small laugh, “Not exactly…unless the thing you are trying to understand it my brother…then honestly, I relate to your confusion. He is impossible to understand sometimes.” He thought for a moment before adding, “Did something happen between you two that day I interrupted you in the library?”

Your eyes widened and you were instantly sure you didn’t need to say anything for the answer to be written across your face in a bold blush. “We…well w-we…we kissed. Maybe a tad more than a simple kiss, maybe it was multiple kisses, and I thought it maybe meant…something. But from the moment you showed up to now Loki hasn’t said a word past obligatory small talk to me in over two weeks. I feel like he’s purposely avoiding having to interact with me at all. And I just don’t understand…” your head hung low as you spoke, feeling defeated. “I’ve thought the world of him for years and I guess he just doesn’t feel anywhere close to that about me. Perhaps he feels what happened was a mistake…or maybe I’m a terrible kisser…either way he just doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore…” you stopped yourself from blabbering even more and looked absently at your hands.

Thor was silent before laughing softly again, “Oh that is not the case, I’m surprised he’s been so silent to you - he hasn’t stopped talking about you to me for a while now. You are the only thing on his mind as far as I can tell.”

“Seriously?” You mumbled, in awe.

“Serious.” He exclaimed, voice now filled with a strong glee. “I assure you, you have nothing to worry about, he’s just a bit clueless when it comes to showing his own feelings in a constructive way…or at least that’s what our mother says.”  

“I don’t know…” You weren’t convinced. You knew Loki could be secretive and sometimes even shady, but he hadn’t ever acted that way before to you. You didn’t want to think about him withholding something from you, especially something as intimate as his true feelings for you…if he even had feelings for you.

“He won’t push you away for long, I can tell when he’s itching to be near you” Thor’s smile was so annoyingly contagious sometimes that you couldn’t help but smile weakly at him despite not really feeling it. “Regardless, you are wonderful, you have no reason to doubt yourself. And for the record - I bet you were an excellent kisser.” He poked the corner of his tongue out at you in a childish way and you could feel a real true smile creep it’s way onto your face.

“Thank you, Thor.” You hummed as you leaned into him a touch, just enough to rest you head on his shoulder as you turned your head back to the garden in front of you. You continued to watch the sky darken in silence for and unidentifiable amount of time.

You were so comfortable in the light breeze that soon your eye lids grew heavy and you started to drift off to a light sleep. You didn’t even notice the second set of foot steps that were coming up the hill, only to abruptly stop and quickly retreat again after witnessing you and Thor sitting together in the sunset.

Some time later you wake up to a lifting and light swaying sensation. Peeking open your eyes you instantly see Thor carefully carrying you down a hallway you recognize.  He smiles down to you, muttering something that sounded like “sleepyhead” before opening a door leading into your room. He gently set you on your bed.

“Just talk to him, y/n, trust me.” He says softly as you instinctively pull your blankets up to your chin.

You only keep one eye open as you look at Thor and yawned. “Talk tomorrow….dream tonight” your voice cracked as another yawn pushed it’s way out.

He nodded and left the room silently.

A couple hours later you woke up to your stomach objecting loudly to the fact you skipped dinner.  Looking around you could tell it was still very much the middle of night, but decided you couldn’t wait till the morning came to satisfy your hunger. Sliding out of bed, you see you’re still wearing your training attire and decided to change into something more comfortable.  A simple linen pant and the first silky tunic you could find in your drawers. The material was far too nice for you to have ever gotten on your own, but being friends with the royal family had come with some gifts over the years. This particular one was a warm gold color with floral embroidery around the neck in greens, blues, and silver. Feeling much more relaxed you exit into the dark hallway.

You patter down the hall, keeping your steps as quiet as possible. Turning down another hallway making your way to a small kitchenette that was within the living quarters. You were almost at the end of the hallway when you heard a door open and froze in your steps. Not that you were doing anything wrong, but still startled by the noise.

“Your companion for the evening couldn’t even satisfy you enough to keep you in bed all night?”

You’d recognize his voice anywhere,  but what surprised you was the venom that laced every word as he spoke. You couldn’t remember a time before that Loki had ever spoken to you with such anger. You turn around to face him only for your heart to break again at the sight.

He looked exhausted as if he hadn’t slept at all, and worse yet, his eyes were red and slightly glassed over as if he’d been crying. He stood in his doorway, slightly leaning against the door frame. “Loki -” you started in a hope to comfort him, but his eyes quickly narrowed in anger and the resulting glare silenced the words before they could even leave your throat.

You questioned whether or not you understood Loki before, but this, this was a whole new level. Why was he so mad? What in the worlds did you do to deserve this hostility? Why were his eyes so intense?

“No words? Not even worth your time to deny it?” His voice continued in that tone, radiating disdain.

“Deny what?” As you spoke, parts of his first comment registered in your brain and you added quickly “Wait, w-what about my bed?” You were too tired for whatever hostile game he was playing. The fear in your heart over his behavior started to mix with a general confusion that frustrated you in your sleepiness.

“Do not bother playing coy; I saw you. First in the gardens and then again as he whisked you away to your chambers.”

Your mind worked slower than it would have if you had slept all night, but it worked out his meaning in time. “Thor?” You asked, “I fell asleep outside, he carried me to bed, yes, but nothing happened after that…why would you think something would happen?”

“Everyone chooses him, do not act like you’re any exception.” He spat at you and turned on his heel, retreating into his room.

You followed him into his room with out a thought. Your feet moved faster than you thought they could. This whole conversation was confusing and utterly unnecessary. You suddenly felt more annoyed than anything else as you marched right up to him forcing him to turn back to you a few feet into his room.

“What is your problem?!” You yelled at him, “I’m minding my own business, half asleep, just looking for a damn snack and you come out all venom and accusations like I did something wrong tonight and it’s your job to ridicule me! I didn’t do a thing with your brother tonight outside of talk and fall asleep. And for the record, all we talked about was you!” You knew your voice was probably getting too loud, but you always had a hard time stopping a rant once you began. You let all your emotions free as you felt this was the tipping point after weeks of uncertainty. “I have been pushing myself to the limit just to get your damn attention for weeks now because you have decided to completely ignore me! I have been racking my brain for so long trying to figure out what I did wrong to make you so withdrawn. And tonight? Tonight was the first time I felt at peace with my feelings for you and I was so prepared to confront you tomorrow and say how much I love you and how much the other night meant to me even if you hated it. And what do I get? Ambushed! And you dare to imply I would ever, could ever, want Thor instead of you?! Unacceptable!” When you finally stopped to breath, you caught the wide eyed expression before you. His shoulder slumped and his he looked at you with such awe. It seems much of his anger had faded and it was now his turn to be confused.

“Nothing happened?”

“Gross, of course not.”

Loki chuckled so softly, you almost missed it. Suddenly the door behind you shut seemingly on its own but you knew better. He took a step towards you, closing the already small space between you.

“I am sorry about ignoring you,” he whispered oh so close to you, “I’m afraid I can’t control myself around you. I thought it best to put space between us, but it turns out being far from you drives me crazy. I can’t sleep and I can barely function like I normally do.”

“And that’s my fault?” You asked unsure again how to interpret his words. Wanting so badly for his torment to match yours, to mean your feelings were reciprocated.

“Yes” as he spoke he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You tilted your head, slightly nuzzling into his hand. “And as for the other night…” you held your breath unintentionally, but with him so close again you found yourself hanging on every velvet word he spoke. “I most certainly did not hate it.”

You were suddenly wide awake, your heart racing as Loki leaned into you. As soon as his lips touched yours you couldn’t help but smile against him.  You were right before to think of kissing him as a dream. This was what your best dreams felt like, except this was even better. This was tangible. This was the feel of this lips perfectly slotted between your own. This was the slide of his hand down your side as the other strokes the soft skin behind your ear with his thumb. This is the simultaneous feeling of both his cool skin and a heat that was beginning to encompass you both.

Your hands sprung to life in response to him squeezing the side of your hip with one hand. Abandoning the frustrated fists they were clenched into moments ago to instead wrap around his neck, doing your best to pull him a closer.

You couldn’t help yourself, biting down gently on his bottom lip, letting your teeth graze across it as you did. His resulting deep growl was more than satisfying enough, but he upped the ante by walking you backwards with deliberate steps until you hit the wall by the door. He pressed himself entirely against you, one leg wedged between your own.

He kissed you so deeply then, his leg applying the slightest pressure betwixt your legs. Your mind might have broke in that moment, you hadn’t realized up until this point how much you actually wanted him, wanted him in all ways possible. Tasting his tongue against your own and feeling every inch of him against you made your certain. You brought one hand down to his hip, mirroring his hand on yours. Your fingers held him close as you bucked you hips against him, testing the waters.  Reveling in the response of his thigh pressing more deliberately against you.

“Loki, I…” you pulled away slightly, gasping in fresh air before losing your breath again at the sight of his lips red and swollen and cheeks slightly flushed.

“Do me a favor?” He asked against your lips. You hummed in acknowledgment, accepting his request. He could ask anything of you right now and you’d probably agree. “Do not wait until tomorrow to confront me with your feelings. I need to hear those sweet words again now.”

The way his voice shook nervously as he said the word ‘now’ echoed in your mind. His eyes no longer red like before. They were so clear now, so full of desire and yet his voice seemed hesitant. He wanted you so bad, he just needed this reassurance.

Letting yourself slip up and say something intimate in the heat of an embittered rant was one thing, but looking him in the eyes and saying it again was so much harder. You blushed and looked down to the floor, but he tilted your head back up forcing you to meet his eyes. You took in the ocean of colors and emotions in his eyes, their pure beauty emboldening you.

“I’m quite certain that I am in love with you.” Once the words left your mouth, you realized that it wasn’t actually hard to say. You felt it in your very soul. As long as this person before you wanted you, you would love him with every ounce of yourself. “I love you” you repeated placing a quick peck on his lips, wanting now to tell him over and over, “I absolutely love you, I -”

Your stomach rumbled loudly and you winced. “I’m still really hungry” you finished weakly, embarrassed all over again.

“Hopefully in more ways than one” Loki remarked with the velvet tone ringing out, the seductive implication ringing in your ears, “but first a snack for my queen.” He took your hand in his and made his way towards his door. Before opening it he turned to you placing the most gentle kiss you’d ever experienced on your lips, “I am also quite certain I’ve fallen in love with you.”

————————–

:)

@jessiejunebug @yeswehideout

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Ghost of you, 14/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 14/?.

Pairings: Human!Nine x Rose; Human!Ten x Jack; Clara Oswald x Olivia Baxter (OC).

Synopsis: "Rose opened the interactive screen and changed the setting for the attached glass wall. It became transparent. Allegro turned around to see Maxence wandering around his cage, a washable felt tip in hand. He had a screen open with all the results his team had entered on their work space and all the other walls were covered with his handwriting."

A/N: I've started writing this fiction last year after I had a particularly weird dream (as usual) and after I wrote the prologue, I've put it aside to work on other stuff. I've gone back to it not so long ago and decided that it would be the fiction I would post next, after not posting anything for a while. I must have watched I am legend and Game of thrones way too much to come out with something like this but I hope you will like it. I am not a scientist, nor did I have a particular knowledge of sciences. I do my researches on the internet like everyone to make sure everything is as close to the reality as possible. I have a literature degree only. Writing is what I do and it makes me explore next fields, and learn new things.

“It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being.” - John Joseph Powell.

CHAPTER 14:

Amy didn’t leave Rose any second while she worked. It was an offer Rose had made to her: observing her as she worked so she could make her own opinion on her. She wouldn’t be biased by anything her patient would have said. Rose was only natural when she was working. She wasn’t pretending to be fine. She wasn’t wearing a mask. She was just herself and being a witness of it would help Amy understand her patient better. The therapist was glad that this idea came from Rose herself and not from her. The woman wasn’t gonna refuse this opportunity and she wasn’t gonna abuse this benefit either. Rose had also offered her to be a friend and that was very unexpected for Amy. Someone asking to be a friend. Rose hadn’t asked questions about why she had had to leave the session for a few minutes. She was giving Amy the time to build a good friendship before opening up to her. The therapist was sat beside Zachary who was keeping his eyes on the screen before him. He was trying to fix the intrusion that had happened a couple days ago. The hacker had left a real mess inside the codes and he had to fix this. Amy’s eyes were focused on Rose though. Standing in front of Allegro’s cage, she was reading the updates on his condition. She was studying the scans from two days ago and the ones Tegan had done in the morning. There was a clear evolution. Being exposed to the UV lights had caused him to develop some symptoms of the virus and react consequently. Now that the lights were off, he had gotten back to normal and was being completely normal again. He was a bit shaken by the situation but he was talking to Liv when he felt the need to. He refused to speak to Amy. He trusted Liv more than the therapist to be honest. The security guard came to the intercom and pressed the button. He was curious about his own situation. Except for Liv and sometimes Zach, no one was speaking to him. And no one was telling him much about how things were evolving for him, for Maxence, for the cure. “How is he going?” he asked. Rose raised her head from the notes she was taking and glanced at Allegro. She tucked her pen in the pocket of her white coat. She pressed the button to answer. “He’s better. Kyle has been brave by going inside unprotected to save his life. I’ve released him today. He hasn’t developed the virus thankfully.” “Antibodies?” “We’re working on that. His body has rejected the noctiagus very fast.” “It’s good. He’s very young. Would have been a really bad thing to lose him too.” “We haven’t lost you, nor Maxence.” “But we’re both in a cage, and he’s infected.” “Both of you are helping us to find the cure.” “How?” Rose opened the interactive screen and changed the setting for the attached glass wall. It became transparent. Allegro turned around to see Maxence wandering around his cage, a washable felt tip in hand. He had a screen open with all the results his team had entered on their work space and all the other walls were covered with his handwriting. “Someone hacked the system and made us believe that his sensors had to be changed. But when we proceeded to the change, the phial wasn’t the right one. Someone has replaced the sensors with a supposed cure that did more damages than anything else.” “Have you found who did this?” “Not yet. But we have a couple of detectives here. Maybe they will find this for us.” Rose chuckled lightly. It was her first joke in a while. She set the wall back to opaque. For a second, Allegro was silent. He put his hands in his pockets. “Who are those detectives?” “Camden McCarson and Donna Noble. Jack has recommended them. Him and Clara think the virus has been created by someone and the detectives are looking for the patient zero.” “Is there any chance to find him or her?” “Very little. But if we don’t try, we’ll never know.” “Indeed.” Their talk was over for now. Allegro walked back to his camp bed and lay back down. His hands behind his head, he looked at the ceiling. Rose finished taking her notes and put them aside. She went to Maxence’s cage and read the new formulas on the walls. He was doing quite a nice work. She was a molecular biologist too and all of this made sense to her… except for one thing. She pulled out her own washable felt pen and wrote down another formula right under the wrong one. She did it backward so he could read it from his cage. Then, she knocked on the glass wall to draw his attention. Maxence raised his head when he heard the knock and walked closer to where Rose was. She pointed to the formula she had written. He took his time to read it and checked his notes. He shook his head and pointed to another formula. He was trying to explain her how he had come to this conclusion and she was trying to tell him where she thought he was wrong. It was a silent communication, all in hand gestures and written formulas on a glass wall. It was fascinating for Amy. Any other couple of scientists wouldn’t have had this alchemy between them. They were working together as if they were the same person. If there was a picture next to the soulmate definition in the dictionary, it had to be them. They were the perfect representation of this word. Even in the darkest times, they remained together, hand in hand. Amy grabbed a pen and a piece of paper to note her observations. Usually, she was recording them but she couldn’t record what was happening here. She could later ask for the videos but they wouldn’t be as convincing as seeing it happen live. She was envious. She had never had this kind of love with someone. Not even with her ex-husband. The thought distracted her and, for a minute, she was unable to focus on Rose without thinking about what she had lost on this terrible night. She could hear it still. The screams, the screeching of the tyres on the road, the gasp of surprise, and that sound. That so terrible sound that was haunting her nightmares. She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. She needed to push it away quickly, before anyone could see her weakness. Now wasn’t the time but she was vulnerable and had troubles controlling herself. “Are you okay?” Amy jumped when she felt a hand touching her shoulder and turned around. Rose was done with Maxence. They had managed to find a solution to the problem they had found in the formulas obviously and Maxence was using a new colour to distinguish his new notes from the old ones. “He’s a busy bee,” she remarked. She hated how her voice was trembling, how Rose was seeing clear in the poker face she was showing. She hated being this vulnerable. Rose glanced quickly at her husband. “Yeah. We found something. I’m waiting until he’s done to compare our results.” If he happened to have the same as hers, it meant that they were on a good path. They couldn’t be wrong if the two of them were coming to the same conclusions. “He’s almost done.” Rose knew she shouldn’t do what she had in mind but she would do it anyway. She had promised to be a friend for Amy and her mission was to help her to get better. So she was gonna take her to the room she was sharing with Maxence and she was gonna force her to have some rest there instead of going to her office like she always did. The therapist was as exhausted as Rose and a bit of rest was hardly a luxury. Maxence concluded his formulas and Rose checked them. She smiled. They had the same results. They hadn’t used the same way to get there but the result was there. She pressed the intercom button. “Add this on your interface. I’ll transfer it all to Tegan.” Maxence nodded. He would do just that. Rose watched him sadly for a minute. She really wanted to come in there and hug him tight to tell him that everything would be alright. She would find this cure. She murmured an ‘I love you’ and told Amy to follow her. “Where are you taking me?” “To a place that used to be my oasis of calm before.” Amy had to admit that she was intrigued and it didn’t get any better when she recognised the private parts of the building. They passed by the dormitories but didn’t stop before they reached the kitchen. “First, let’s eat something. I’m rather hungry. Aren’t you?” “Sort of.” Amy wasn’t eating much. It had been this way since that night. She was eating just enough to have strengths for the day. This meal was the first real one she was eating in a while. But Rose wasn’t letting her refuse. She was even forcing her to eat a bit more than necessary. After that, she took her to the room she was sharing with Maxence, the room where all their pictures were. A room where she was supposed to find her own peace and have a better night of sleep.

x

Tegan was standing in the middle of his office, his arms folded on his chest, and his foot lightly tapping the ground. He was being impatient and angry all at once. Soon as he was done with the detectives, he had sent them to work. Jack had tried to stay and find out what was annoying him so badly but Tegan had resisted and convinced him that this matter only concerned Martha, Colin and him. He would let him know later maybe. No one else should know about this attempt of sabotage. Martha and Colin were there now. Both were sat on the couch and they were waiting for Tegan to speak. Martha was rather worried about this sudden summoning and Colin… Colin was Colin. He was sat there, impassible. Tegan couldn’t do anything against him. He was the real boss here. So he wasn’t worried. “Are you gonna look daggers at us all day or tell us what has made you summon us?” His words were sweating with sarcasm but he was trying to be as nice as he could be in front of Tegan. There was a witness and he couldn’t be caught bullying him once again. He doubted Martha would intervene between them but she could spread rumours just by talking with her stupid boyfriend, Ricky. Or Mickey. Whatever he was called. Tegan grabbed the report on his desk and threw it on Colin’s lap without a word. He was so furious he wanted to punch him in the face. But that wasn’t the attitude of a leader. So he was containing his rage. “One of you had mixed a new cure without telling me and this cure was given to our patient number one.” “And? What’s the matter? Isn’t that why you’re keeping him downstairs?” Tegan swallowed the anger rising in his chest. Colin was obviously looking for troubles with him. Martha was glancing at them worriedly. She didn’t know the story between the two of them but it didn’t seem to be a nice one. “This cure hasn’t been registered and it has been given without any consent. Everything is supposed to be given to me first for approval before anything.” “I haven’t mixed anything,” admitted Martha. “I’m still waiting for the new results. They haven’t been approved yet since…” She gave a look to Colin. He wasn’t in the elite team so she didn’t know what she could say before him. She didn’t want to make a mistake and be yelled at for it. Tegan was in a murderous mood and she wouldn’t cause him to have a go at her. “Martha, you can go. Not a word about this to anyone.” “What? A couple words and you believe her?” Tegan made a gesture of the hand to signify Martha that she was dismissed. He believed her. He would believe anyone but Colin. Martha hesitantly left the office. This matter was interesting but she wouldn’t know the final word of it obviously. “I have reasons to believe that you’re trying to sabotage our researches. I have no proof but I am convinced you’re still working on this cure, that you’re trying to beat us to it.” “Why would I do that?” “We both know why. You’ve been removed from the noctiagus researches and you’re angry. You hate me and I’m your boss now. To me, there are enough reasons here for you to get on my way.” “You’re being paranoid.” “You’ve created that cure.” “Maybe.” “Don’t try to lie. I know you did. I have access to all the cameras in this building. I’ve seen the videos.” He was bluffing and hoped that it would work because he wasn’t a good liar usually. Lying in his bully’s face was harder too. Colin didn’t let any reaction appear on his face. It was infuriating Tegan so much. “So, how’s good old Maxence? He hasn’t gone mad in that cage of his?” “Maxence hasn’t come back from his last mission.” “Oh, don’t play fool with me. I know he’s down there. Everyone knows. It’s not because you created this special team that keeps secret everything they do that there aren’t leaks.” “If you had good narks in this building, you would know better.” Colin was done with Tegan’s assumptions on him and his hidden threats that would lead nowhere. If the man had had the courage to do anything, he would have done it already since he had full power now. He had admitted himself that he didn’t have proof that he was guilty of what was done to Maxence. It was an attempt of murder. Despite his condition, Maxence was still the head and heart of this department and of this team. Attacking him was attacking the whole team. It had been made to destabilise them. But Colin was too clever to admit that he was guilty. “The same works for you, Smith. If you had good narks in this building, you’d be better informed about what is going on in your department.” Colin was playing it nasty. He was playing on the guilt that was eating out Tegan. He was the one who made that injection who could have killed his so precious mentor. He was the one who made a mistake and that was torturing him. “Shut up, Appleton. My mistake was created by some freaking bastard that messed with our stuff. And that freaking bastard is you, you can’t convince me otherwise.” Colin got up and grabbed Tegan by the throat. He pushed him so hard that the young man had to step backward to keep his balance. Tegan noticed for the first time that he was taller than Colin. The man was more aggressive but he was just like small dogs who kept barking and never really were able to hurt. Tegan was one of the bigger dogs who never hurt anyone in anyway, a dog that could attack and kill at any time. He hated this comparison because that just wasn’t defining him at all. He refused to be mean and evil for free. It just wasn’t in his character. “Careful what you say, Smith. You might be the boss now but there’s no witness at the moment and I can destroy you with a snap of my fingers.” “Go on then. Let’s see if you really have that pair you’re boasting about.” Colin had reached the point of no return this time. His fist collided with Tegan’s beardy jaw. The punch resounded in the silent office and the sudden shock threw Tegan against the wall behind him. For a moment, all he could see was black. He shouldn’t have provoked Colin that way and this punch was more than enough to sack him. It was one more reason added to the long list of why Colin shouldn’t be working here anymore. “There’s nothing you can do against me. I’ve created this cure and made sure you would inject it to him. His reaction to it wasn’t the one expected but I’m not gonna apologise for him almost dying. I should have taken his place when he was infected. But he gave it to you instead.” Tegan just laughed despite the pain of his jaw. Colin was so overwhelmed by his jealousy that he wasn’t doing anything right anymore. He was giving himself away – certainly thinking that Tegan would find no clue to prove this – and beating his superior. As if nothing mattered anymore. “You won’t find that cure, Colin. You’re fired.” “Oh, who’s firing me? You?” “Maxence promoted me to this position. So yeah, I am firing you.” That second punch met his face properly. He would have a black eye for sure but he couldn’t help but laugh. It was infuriating Colin but laughing was relieving him from all the pressure Colin had previously put on his shoulders. Now he wasn’t fearing this man anymore. It was over. Even when Colin threw him to the ground, he kept laughing. He didn’t even try to protect himself. “You’re so done.” “Shut up! SHUT UP!” The door was unlocked and suddenly two security members were surrounding Colin. They grabbed him by the arms and arrested him. They would throw him into a locked room for now. Tegan had pronounced his sentence but he wasn’t cruel enough to force Colin to leave the building and live among the infected. He wasn’t wishing it to his worst enemies. “Liv is on her way,” said one of the security members. “We’ve told her you would need her.” Tegan nodded to thank them. Indeed, he would need Liv. But it was only for the physical part. On the psychological part, he would need Amy. Later. When the adrenaline would have come down. When he would realise what he had done and what it would imply now.

x

Camden and Donna were surrounded by dozens of cardboard boxes full of results of different patients across the world. There even was a list of all the infected people – that was updated every day – and a list of some of dead. No one could keep clear records about the dead because no one was staying outside long enough to keep track of it. Camden wasn’t gonna blame them. Outside was hell and this place was safety. Even if it was too sterilised for his liking. And people were too serious. No sense of humour. Lots of glaring if he was making a remark. Most of them were wondering why they were here. Why would Tegan hire detectives? It was a mystery and Camden wouldn’t tell them about his mission. He was too focused on it. He would go to the end of it and go back to his little life in his manor. Donna was just as focused on their mission as he was. Highlighters in hand, she was adding colours to the documents she was reading. She was also writing down notes. In front of her, there were bottles of water and snacks. They had been brought earlier by Clara so they wouldn’t be starving or become too thirsty if they were working too much. She had also taken that opportunity to speak with Camden that she hadn’t seen in a while and given him some clues for his own researches. She doubted she would be of any help but better try than do nothing. “How have you met her?” Camden raised his head from the documents he was reading and glanced at Donna. She was having a break and drinking water from one of the bottles before her. She picked a snack and opened it. She had been curious about how Camden could know people like Clara Oswald and Jack Harkness. Two people that were very different from each other but also from Camden. Too joyful, too flirty. Not that Donna minded Jack flirting with her. “Who?” “Doctor Oswald.” “She wasn’t a doctor when I’ve met her. She was just a little girl.” “Are you that old?” “Oi!” “Just kidding. Relax.” “Her parents owned a paper shop. They had really good stuff. I used to order my notebooks to them and I was coming to get it when I was around. Clara was always playing in the shop. A girl full of energy and always smiling.” “I didn’t know you liked kids.” “I don’t. But she was different.” “That’s what we say.” Camden sighed and went back to work, ignoring Donna’s chuckle. She had had her answer, now they could go back to work. He was currently reading a report from the early days of the infection. Something dragged his attention. A name. “Wait, isn’t the nickname Missy ringing a bell?” “Nope.” “I’m sure to have seen that name somewhere.” He looked into the files he had already flipped through. This name had appeared somewhere. He remembered it well. He had a very good memory. It wasn’t in a list of names. It was a report. A report from before the infection. Missy or Myrtle Appleton. Sister of Colin Appleton and mad scientist. What was she working on at the moment? He glanced at the different reports he had under his eyes. Xeroderma pigmentosum. Disease of the sun. If you were suffering from this disease, you wouldn’t be able to go out unless it was night and the lights would be a bother. A terrible disease and a very short longevity. “Xeroderma pigmentosum,” he murmured. “Hm.” “There has always been this disease. The disease of the sun. People who can’t stand the ultraviolet lights. They are living a very short life and suffering from multiple complications.” “What’s the link with that Missy?” “Myrtle Appleton was a specialist of this disease. She was leading researches to find a cure.” “Was?” “Her methods weren’t very conventional.” And this was why she had been sacked from the lab she was working in and the reason why she had been forced to continue her researches in the deepest secret. If there was a path to follow for their mission, it was clearly this one…

To be continued...

Ghost of you © | 2017 - 2018 | Tous droits réservés.

×××

In the next chapter:

However, for Maxence, things were getting complicated. His brain seemed to have switched to a standby mode. A sort of sleep that wasn’t really sleep. He was just laying there with his eyes closed. Zachary was keeping an eye on his vital signs. His brain activity had reduced to the minimum, to the very minimum. If Zach didn’t have the other information under his eyes, he would think that the man was dead or about to be. Maybe he was dying. Zachary wasn’t very qualified on this field but he was clever enough to understand that something was wrong. The vital signs weren’t good at all. He entered an alert on their interactive group work. Someone needed to come and do a check up on him. Just to be sure that the fake cure given to him wasn’t having any effect on him anymore. Just a precaution not to lose him all of a sudden.

×××

← Last || Next →

English version:

AO3 || FF || TS || Wattpad.

[likeathunderbolt]

jasmine; what mythical creature do you wish actually existed? the fée, I'd go live with them in the forest and dedicate my life to practicing supernatural hijinks and fucking shit up for the humans.

lavender; soundcloud or vinyls? I suppose soundcloud gives artists an easier method of sharing with the world.

primrose; what book does everyone right now need to read? The Cooking Gene by Michael W Twitty.

lunar mist; do you like wearing other people’s shirts/jackets? They're always too small for me because I am a frost giant.

bird of paradise; what was the best thing that happened to you this month? I went to see one of my all time favourite artists with one of my oldest friends. 

gardenia; what’s a promise you’ve recently made to yourself? To really mean it this time.

lion’s fairytale; would you rather be the sky, the ocean or the forests? The Ocean.

whirling butterflies; would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Sure, why not?

marmalade skies; do you plan your outfits? Not really, I just make sure my clothes are washed and ironed.

apricot drift; how do you feel right now? Gross from eating too much junk food.

everlasting daisy; what’s the last dream you remember having? My friends at a barbecue and for some reason everyone had superpowers but it was completely normal and no big deal so we just had this full on X-Men cook out.

queen’s cup; what are you craving right now? Water and a clear head.

lavender dream; turn ons/offs? On: Confidence, inner peace, knowing what you want. Off: Control, agendas, “white” lies. 

water lilly; when was the last time you cried? why? I was given a gift and a note both of which were very very heartfelt, referencing years’ worth of actions I had no idea had left such an impact.

lily of the valley; did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? The person who hurt me most is me, being self sabotaging fool, I practice my apology every day by trying to be better.

winterberry; do you bite or lick your ice cream? Lick, biting ice cream sounds very odd to me.

honey perfume; favourite movie ever? I love the Ghibli films, ハウルの動く城, 千と千尋の神隠し, 魔女の宅急便, 風の谷のナウシカ, etc.

desert rose; do you like yourself? I'm working on it.

snapdragon; have you ever met or seen in person a celebrity? I'm not sure if this counts but I had lunch with Carla Bruni once, and twice I shared a fruitcake with Kofi Annan.

night owl; how many countries have you visited? I have actually genuinely lost count and don't want to miss anyone out.

heliotrope; have you ever been in a castle? I'm British, we can't move for castles.

creams and sky; what’s the craziest/bravest thing you’ve done? Moved to Toulouse on my own? Decided to actually look at myself and how much I was contributing to my own unhappiness? Trying to take responsibility for my self and be a better human?

lantana; what’s on your mind right now? I left my peppermint tea at work but water was a close second anyway.

pumpkin patch; what’s your zodiac sign? Earth sign, Taurus.

tulip; name 5 facts about yourself. 1. I love water; I'm a water baby, island child. Water is my favourite beverage, swimming is my favourite exercise, I love lakes, rivers, streams seas, oceans and waterfalls. Rainy days make me feel calm. Water is in my soul. 2. I love cooking; when I was a wee child my nan had a lodger from Hong Kong who was a chef, and he used to let me "help" him in the kitchen. So I grew up learning how to cook authentic HK/Cantonese cuisine. He actually runs a quite successful restaurant now too. 3. My first job was a Junior Librarian in a Grade 1 listed building; it had a variety of secret passageways and hidden rooms that I still think about a lot. Taking a hidden staircase up to a secret turret to repair books in the dusty sunlight is soul therapy. 4. I'm quite ambiverted; almost painfully shy with people I don't know very well, especially if I'm not feeling very confident that day. I have known this shyness to be mistaken for rudeness on occasion which has spurred me on to be more open a friendly even when I feel vulnerable, which has gone a long way to helping deal with the shyness. 5. As of the day after my birthday this year, I am now an uncle.

daphne; do you believe in karma? Yes, karma or the karmic rose by any other name. queen of the meadow; ever been in love? With humanity, life, the future.

wisteria; whom do you admire and why? Kind people. Anyone who has kept a warm heart through the hard times.

angel’s face; what was your favourite bedtime story as a child? The Jolly Witch.

remember me; did you make someone laugh today? My cats made me laugh, not too sure if I returned the favour just yet.

iris; do you believe in ghosts? Yes, or something of the sort we don't fully understand.

lilac; if you could go back in time which time period would you visit? Pre-Roman Britain.

caramel kisses; would you want to live forever? why/why not? No, I want to eventually move on.

primula; what makes you sad? Missed opportunities, being unable to help, misunderstandings, injustice.

rain lily; was today typical? why/why not? Yes and no, I spent a lazy Sunday with my family playing games so it was fun, but a typical day usually involved more work, working out, etc.

queen anne’s lace; who do you trust the most? My loved ones.

lady’s slipper; what did you have for breakfast today? Boiled rice with shredded veg & chilli sauce.

forget me not; do you have any regrets looking back in your life? I would like to have learnt certain lessons sooner and I am sorry for upsetting people.

lunaria; what’s your favourite fictional universe? I love so many, I think Tolkien's Middle Earth just  wins it for me though, I have so many great memories both reading alone and playing or discussing with friends as a child, a teen and even now.

violet; favourite telly show? Of all time: I have a soft spot for the OC in all its ridiculous glory.  Of the last year or so: Ugly Delicious. Honorary mentions: Supernatural, Springwatch, Summerwatch, Autumnwatch and Winterwatch.

sunflower; share a favourite quote. Again, so many: "You're as good as you reciprocate." from Light's Everybody Breaks A Glass. "To be rather than to seem." is also one that means a lot to me, I think the good people of North Carolina may agree with me on that one too.

snowdrop; what does your ideal day look like? Waking up in a bright, comfy room, good hearty breakfast, swimming, spending time with loved ones, working on passion projects, cooking for everyone, relaxing under the stars.

tiger lily; do you have any hobbies? Swimming, cooking, reading, yoga, painting, writing, and outdoor activities. I love skating either board or blades and ju jitsu too, but I can't really do impact stuff anymore.

peony; share a small random book passage that means something to you. So many from Terry Crews Manhood and Anna Akana's So Much I Want to Tell You. I don't have the energy to go get them and type them out though because it would take me half an hour to even pick which passage to use. I'm already thinking of more books that mean a great deal to me.

tea rose; what’s something you always wanted to do but were too scared? I really wanted to move to Japan for a while to be with my friends, who are from Osaka, I went as far as to get necessary qualifications, studied Japanese and secured a job before I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease that meant I needed ongoing treatment at home, I was terrified of moving to Japan because it is literally the other side of Eurasia but once the opportunity was taken away after all that work, I was devastated. I always imagined that doing these things that scare me would make me a better person and now I'm scared I'll never have a chance to right that missed opportunity.

honeysuckle; do you usually date people your age or older/younger? I operate on the 5 year rule usually; no older or younger than fiver years from my age, but I suppose I'd waive that for the right person?

sweet pea; who means the world to you? why? My loved ones, because friends really are the family you choose and there is no greater blessing than having friends who are your family and family who are truly your friends.

love in the mist; best books you’ve ever read? Again, too many, off the top of my head: Mineko Iwasaki's Geisha of Gion, Jung Chang's Wild Swans, Anhua Gao's On the Edge of the Sky, Jo Rowlings Harry Potter series, Tolkien's Entire works, particularly Beren and Lúthien. I also really love Michelle Paver's Chronicles of Ancient Darkness and Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events. I also read Nigella's cookbooks like novels. I literally just sit and read them. I could write whole books on books I love and why.

foxglove; who is your favourite cartoon character? The entire cast of Pokémon is my childhood.

magnolia; coffee or tea? Tea please.

crown imperial; would you rather be extremely rich or extremely loved? Love is richness.

snowflake; are you a dog or a cat person? Why is the word or in this sentence? Unless your allergic or afraid I don't trust people who don't like animals.

bell flower; what is your biggest addiction? Junk food. Easily.

cosmos; do you ever think about the galaxy? It fascinates me endlessly, I love watching Professor Brian Cox.

moonflower; what’s your favourite colour? Brown, blue and orange.

freesia; do you have a good relationship with your parents and siblings? why/why not? I think we communicate well and they are some of my best friends.

sundrop; are you a morning or a night person? Learning to be a morning person, definitely still more of a night person. I was born with starlight in my eyes and that was my first love.

poppy; have you ever dealt with a mental illness? Yes, from both a point of view of concern for loved ones and from the point of view of not even realising how bad my own mental health was. If you want to talk about mental health either yours or that of a loved one, no matter who you are please feel free to reach out. I'm here.

clover; how would your friends describe you? You'd have to ask them, but I really hope they'd say kind.

dandelion; do you consider yourself and extrovert or an introvert? I'm an introvert that has learnt to be ambiverted.

lilly; what’s something you love watching/reading but you are too embarrassed to admit you do? That's hard, I don't really feel ashamed of things like that anymore. Two people I feel are criticised a lot, sometimes rightly so, but who I still love because I'm aware humans, including myself, are fallible (and those throwing the stones are invariably living in glass houses) are Taylor Swift and Jo Rowling.

anemone; describe yourself in 3 words. Striving for better.

lotus; best memory as a child? Any time I was having fun with my loved ones.

angelonia; what is your eye and hair colour? Blue and a really dark auburn.

dahlia; do you like crystals? They're pretty I suppose? And they feel nice and cool.

buttercup; if you could change one thing in the world, what would it be? More love and compassion.

baby’s breath; what’s your Hogwarts house? Slytherin according to Pottermore. My friends had me pegged as a Ravenclaw in the pre Pottermore days.

calendula; biggest pet peeve? When people give it that "Gotcha!" thing as  though they're irrefutably in the right, but they're still completely wrong and then they proceed to act like you just can't let an argument go, when all you are doing is refusing to be walked all over.

blanker flower; would you rather go to a cocktail party with your best friends or stay home and read a book/watch a movie with your pet? Both of these sound like great nights, I'd say the latter most of the time and the former for a change every now and then. Friday night I didn’t get home until 2am I wound down by sitting in bed with my cats watching The X-Files and eating chicken nuggets.

blazing star; share a secret. If I did, it wouldn't be a secret.

carnation; would you rather live longer or happier? Happier. Happiness is such and important thing to share.

petunia; who’s story is your biggest inspiration in life? why? So many people; I really admire my loved one because I know their struggles and still see first hand their kindness and compassion every single day.

bluebell; do you wear glasses? I do not.

nymphea; forest or river? I love both but I'll go for river.

orchid; do you like exercise? Exercise releases endorphins, for which I am very grateful.

pansy; do you like poetry? Poetry is great. I love it.

morning glory; any special talent that you have? You mean other than eating two entire tubes of pringles to myself in a single day? I can make icing flowers from scratch and bake a cake to put them on, thank to my nan.

[pinbitch]

season five continues please don’t let anything like the last episode happen again:

-huh things went downhill for lana really fast. one episode clark breaks up with her the next she’s on suspiciously bright green unnamed drugs. okay

-clark just. ran to honduras. i lov him

-oh. lionel is here

-official smallville pig count: 2. it’s WILD that it’s taken this long and now we’re on a pig every episode rate

-whoa i think a guy falling on a circular saw and taking like 30 seconds to die is the grisliest death smallville has ever had

-now watch as despite lana stealing his car and also breaking into his house lex is completely fine with her cause that’s normal and healthy

-side note: i think my problem with the whole “i am entitled to your secret i cannot stand all these lies” thing comes from being a gay. like, no one is obligated to come out of the closet and Clark’s Secret feels a lot like that to me

-side note part two: how has literally no one on this show wondering about Clark’s Secret thought “oh, maybe he’s queer”? fucking wild, although maybe i should be thankful cause i don’t see that being done respectfully

-little girl just fucking murdered some fish by smashing all the glass in the house including their tank with her miiiiind poooooowers

-oh sweet lord i forgot how lovely clark is with kids

-lana: you must really trust me. lex: 100% me: she stole your car LAST EPISODE

-KRYPTO IS BACK but for some reason is called shelby now i guess??? okay???

-lois is as bad with kids as clark is good. excellent, great, wonderful. such rich pairing material

-lex getting aol video messages this is a noughties period drama

-evil guy with glass powers killed the fish not the little girl so we’re allowed to like her i guess

- do uh, diamonds count as glass now?

-clark adopting super powered kids is everything i want from this show

-this lex and lana storyline is making me actively look forward to when she is written out he’s been perving on her since she was FIFTEEN

-lana: what are we doing? lex: i thought we were enjoying an evening of chess. that exchange doesn’t really really need any input from me it’s already perfect

-the villain of this episode basically just hates capitalism which is fair. but also they murder people. not fair

-also they have a tinfoil face for some reason

-whoa. does... does lionel shave his armpits?

-lex is STILL trying to find “common ground” with clark cause he still loves him

-my boy broke through a wall then caught a lift this is what i’m here for

-bad guy took of his mask and lionel gasps but i’m there like “i have literally no idea who that is”

-lex luthor is what tony stark could have been we should be very glad he’s iron man instead. i just really love tony stark okay

-i pretty much unironically love the theme song now

-oh clark has a new ~mystery~ sugar daddy now

-lois is doing crunches whilst doing politics and i’m not sure who to thank or what i did to deserve this but OH BOY OH MAN OH WOW

-”clark kent is afraid of heights” is the best running joke this show has set up

-lois continues to have absolutely horrible taste in men and that is not just because she hasn’t shown interest in clark (or alternatively me) yet

-jfc lois just poured nearly an entire thing of sugar into her coffee. you don’t need to drink the bean juice if you need that much sugar babe, come join me in the leaf water corner

-alright by the 15th pun surely someone would have worked out that this guy is a hitman? i mean “it can get a little cutthroat”???

-he just invited lois to a coldplay concert. PERIOD DRAMA

-mmmmmm a classic hard thing shattering against clark shot whilst somehow leaving his clothes undamaged literally my favourite

-lois in the shower! CLARK SEEING LOIS NAKED! yeeeeeeeeees the episode is SO GOOD

-lois takes hour and a half long showers. i love her so much

-lois: why can’t i meet a decent guy from a decent family? me, openly weeping: YOU ALREADY HAVE

-mum kent finishing up the episode being completely right about absolutely everything yet again

-daddy kent shows up at his own grave (extremely extra) to tell clark to kill daddy luthor and he says it because lionel is gonna do something terrible but we all know its because dad kent is missing dad luthor and wants to have homoerotic arguments with him in the afterlife

-mum kent: jonathan, you know you’re the only man i’ve ever loved. me: well that’s not a very straight thing to say

-i haven’t had much to say about this episode cause i’ve been eating my tea whilst watching but i’m not convinced for a second that clark is actually gonna kill someone

-tractor throwing! yaaaay! now we know for sure it isn’t the real dad kent. he spent so long fixing the damn thing he would never just throw it at clark and break it again

-doctor: well lex you’ve never been healthier. me: seriously what happened to the blood purification thing. i genuinely don’t remember that ever being resolved

-lex: clark’s specialty is barging in where he isn’t invited. me: EXCUSE ME? E X C U S E  M E??? that is the most hypocritical thing i’ve ever heard anyone on this show say holy shit

-lois just referenced the night stalker. i see you babe. my girl is into true crime

-i’m actually so excited for Andrew Jacoby, Duke of Kenilworth to show up as general zod but that might actually be ages yet idk

-DO NOT RING PEOPLE WHEN YOU ARE DRIVING

-”i’ll be there tonight” why do fictional people always say this? “tonight” is such a wide bracket of time

-i’m not even gonna talk about lana’s arc this season

-clark just got sent to the phantom zone so that’s fun. no, not fun. what’s the opposite of fun?

-ooooooo, nice use of stock footage of riots

-i have no idea why people are actually rioting but it’s certainly injecting some drama into the last minutes of the season

-lana’s doing her big romantic speech to lex but the whole city is rioting and it doesn’t really seem like the time

-clark is gonna have to save an awful lot of people really fast at the start of the next season when this cliffhanger is resolved

[randisnotonfire-blog]

I wish I could tell you Peter Parker X Reader

Summary: When Y/n and Peter fight over what is safe for him as Spider-Man events take a dark turn leading to a death, which Y/n suffers from not being able to tell Peter her special feelings for the soft boy.

Warnings: Fluff, Death, Depression, Some cursing, Anxiety, mentions of death and harm

Requested: Nope

Song/s: We don’t believe whats on tv, Glowing eyes by Twenty One Pilots

A/n: This is a very sad fan fiction so sorry m8 :( And i will try and remember my tag list this time lol also I think this is one of my LONGEST fan fics i have ever wrote in my half of a year writing

                                                   * * *

           You hated fighting with Peter over stuff about his daily job as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, mainly because the fight would always end with you leaving his room while he is crying for feeling guilty about what happened. You really did like him. You always did, and always will. I remember meeting Peter on the schools’ playground during lunch time, he was stuck on the monkey bars yelling “I’m stuck! Send help!” you tried to hold back your laughter to save the blush for him. He fell for your personality and you fell for his curly fluffy looks, and this caused the unwanted friend-zone while being best friends. It was a good thing that he lived in a apartment 5 doors across from yours. When high school came you had met his other best friend Ned Leeds, Ned was nice but still heavily built. He would geek out with Peter about nerdy science stuff and build LEGO sets together after school with you. And now its crazy to think you’re friend group you had formed is now Seniors in high school, almost in college.

                         You, MJ, Ned and Peter were all sitting outside during lunch time in Midtown High eating, you were lying in the grass with Peter while MJ and Ned were eating the schools food. You had your legs on top of Peter’s, your body’s  making sort of a L shape, “You guys, Its official. I don’t want to go to college” You joked as you looked at the clouds fresh shapes. Peter smiled, “Why not?” “Well..Its just going to be another four more years of learning! And I think I’m done with the drama queens and stuck up wanna be’s” You said as you sat up gathering your trash. “true” Ned said as he took a bite of the sandwich they served, the bell rang for the last period of the day and you all cleaned up and left. When you saw Peter in the hallway you ran over to him, “I’m gonna be coming over to your apartment today, okay?” you said with a smile. He nodded then you all left for class. 

                                     When you walked into his apartment you expected to see him  but you couldn’t find him, as usual, “Great” you said to yourself when you threw your backpack on his bedroom floor. After a hour or two May left to go have dinner with a couple of friends which left you alone in their small apartment. You sat down on his bunk bed and inspected his room, you looked at his tiny collection of nerdy Funko Pop figurines to his science fair awards. You got up from his bunk bed when you saw a polaroid picture of you and him together, Next to the Polaroid photo there was one of you wearing a pair of oddly funny glasses failing to keep a straight face. You smiled when looking at the old photos, it brought back too many memories. 

           Flash Back: “Peter?” You asked him when you looked over at him sitting on the old pull out couch in your basement. He looked up at you, “Yes Y/n?” He asked as he put down the book he was reading. “H-have you ever kissed anyone?” You looked down at the white bedding from the pull out couch to avoid any awkward eye contact. “I mean we are only 13..” Peter said “Have you kissed anyone?” He said once again and this time you made serious eye contact. “N-no” You said quietly. It felt like the room was closing in on you when he crawled closer to where you were sitting at the corner. “Y/n” Peter said softly, he lifted your chin up so you would look up at him. You made moonlight eye contact perfectly, “C-can I kiss you?” He asked. You nodded bashfully, he cupped his hands around your cold cheeks. Your worlds met completely when his lips smashed up against yours. 

                    Suddenly the window bust open with a tumbling Peter falling on the floor. “Shit” You said as you jumped up from being startled from him, “Sorry” He mumbled when he got to his feet. “Its fine” You mumbled as you quickly moved away from the cork board above his desk, “What were you looking at?” “Nothing IjustrememberedwhenyoukissedmeandnowIfeelveryawkwardandweneedtostudyPeter” You said fastly, “What?” he said as he walked up to you. “Are you okay?”  You nodded, you sat down on the bottom of his bunk bed. Peter pressed the button on his suit causing it to create a pool of red and blue near his ankles, he put on a pair of grey sweatpants and a black shirt. “Are you sure your okay?” He asked once again, “Its just what they were saying on the news about you..” You said as you balled your hands into fists in your lap. “Oh, well I’m okay, trust me” He gave you a weak smile. “But how do I know you are Pete? You are always getting home later than you usually do. Later than you normally  do as Spider-boy..” He sighed and sat next to you, you rested your head on his shoulder. “But Y/n I am okay...” he spoke softly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “You don’t understand Peter, what if one day you aren’t safe. What if I go crazy past my mind because your not safe and something bad happens Pete!” you said trying not to raise your voice from being scared. “Y-Y/n I will be fine” “But how do I know for sure that you will” you lowered your tone of the voice you were speaking at. He sighed and so did you, he knew about your anxiety and depression and how you worried way too much. You let a single tear fall from your face and this made Peter even more worried about you. You broke in front of him. Crying. You got up, grabbed everything you brought with you and left him crying feeling guilty for letting you be like this. 

                       Sometimes I wish I hadn’t tried so hard to be like this. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t listened to the ‘recommended’ stuff to do to be like this with Peter. But he is so out of reach and its hard to be like this. Knowing he likes Liz Allan makes you feel stupid for even having the hots for him, the third time she had a party you had found them dancing together which made you feel horrible. But I know I’m never going to get over him. Because I’m just a sucker for anything he does. This was the first night you had cried yourself to sleep because of thinking what could happen at any moment. 

                     Peter’s POV:

                  When Y/n left it was a open chance to go back outside and help out, I mean I had calmed down and its only 9pm anyways. Walking down the cold November nights of Queens it felt perfect, using the web shooters I swing up to one of the rooftops to look at the crystal moonlight view. Suddenly a man walks up to me. “Hey buddy” the dark voice says. I freak out and turn around to see who it is. He has a couple of other friends who tagged along with him. But too many to take down, ‘shit this is lovely’. “You know Y/L/N Y/F/N” One of the other guys say. He is covered in a black hoodie. “Y-yeah..Please don’t hurt her please I will give you anything just p-”  Peter got cut off by the rude leader “Jump off and she will stay safe” He said harshly. “We saw you with her the other day,  little Spider-Man knows a high school student” The guy snickers and pushes Peter up closer to the edge. “W-what?” Peter managed to stutter out, his heart sank. He knew Y/n was true but he didn’t want to feed into her anxiety and depression. And that was all that Peter remembers, being pushed off the 20/30′ building that night. The rest is known for history.

               Reader’s POV:

                You got a phone call from May, this freaked you out. Running towards the home phone that your mother was holding for you you quickly grabbed it from her and answered the call. “May? I-is everything okay? Whats wrong? Do I need to get to your apartment? Is Peter okay?” you rambled on with questions but you could feel the emptiness from May radiating off on to you. You already knew what was about to happen because you remember hearing ambulance and police sirens earlier outside. “J-just get to the hospital closest to the new office work space near our apartments, you said your good-byes quickly and left.

              When you arrived at the hospital you were greeted by one of the lady’s who works there. You told her the information and she gave you the room number but said “The room number is 209, but visiting hours end soon considering it is almost 11pm sweetie”. You nodded and went to Peter’s hospital room. You opened the door quietly and saw him sitting in a hospital bed with May sitting next to him. She gave you a weak smile and nodded letting you know to come inside, you closed the door and set your bookbag by the door. “Pete” You said softly as you looked at his pale body, he was vaguely breathing. Seeing him like this made you cry. You covered your face and tried to calm yourself down as you walked over to sit next to him and Aunt May. “H-how long ago did this happen” you choked out while she tried to comfort you. “It seemed like this had happened around 45 minutes ago” The sound of quiet sobs and the machines beeping filled the room the entire night. May left the room and waited in the waiting room for you to say whatever you had to, to Peter.

                You entire twined your’s and his hands together. “Peter, I didn’t say for you to let go yet” you whispered as you grasped his hand a little tighter. “Please don’t leave me yet” You tried to fight back the tears filling in your eyes. You looked down at his hand and kissed his cheek. “I will always love you more than a best friend Pete” You spoke softly. Then the machine stopped beeping along with his slow breathing. “B-bye Peter” You said as you let yourself break fully in front of him. 

    Stay Alive my friends I-/ 

   Tag list: @thatfemaleholland  @thatspiderbaby  @vanessalovesonedirection

[dfroza]

there is a natural “high” in Heaven

of pure Love and total acceptance. of knowing you belong, and forever so. it is truly an atmosphere of “Home”

with no fear or pain. no death. and people on earth attempt to achieve a resemblance of this “other worldly” experience, yet by using alternative and counterfeit expressions of achieving a “high” that makes them feel Happy, usually only for a time. a temporary state of being. and it can be addictive, even destructive. although there are substances of earth that do relieve pain in the body, and other things that can be used in moderation that make us feel better to be in this crazy world, such as wine. and it’s Okay to drink, but not to be drunk. just as it’s normal to eat, but overeating can make you feel sick. we need to restrain ourselves when it comes to these things.

just as sex is a nice feeling for the body, yet in the truth of Love we’re supposed to be in a committed marital bond to share it since it was created by God and it is a sacred Union of two bodies becoming as “One”

and we read of Heaven along with the rebirth of beautiful mysterious earth in Today’s chapters of the Scriptures for Saturday, September 28 of ‘19

with the writing of John in the book of Revelation

(chapter 21)

A New Heaven, a New Earth, the New Jerusalem

I looked again and could hardly believe my eyes. Everything above me was new. Everything below me was new. Everything around me was new because the heaven and earth that had been passed away, and the sea was gone, completely. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God, prepared like a bride on her wedding day, adorned for her husband and for His eyes only. And I heard a great voice, coming from the throne.

A Voice: See, the home of God is with His people.

He will live among them;

They will be His people,

And God Himself will be with them.

The prophecies are fulfilled:

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

Death will be no more;

Mourning no more, crying no more, pain no more,

For the first things have gone away.

And the One who sat on the throne announced to His creation,

The One: See, I am making all things new. (turning to me) Write what you hear and see, for these words are faithful and true. It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. I will see to it that the thirsty drink freely from the fountain of the water of life. To the victors will go this inheritance: I will be their God, and they will be My children. It will not be so for the cowards, the faithless, the sacrilegious, the murderers, the sexually immoral, the sorcerers, the idolaters, and all those who deal in deception. They will inherit an eternity in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.

And then one of the seven messengers in charge of the seven bowls filled with the seven last plagues came over to me.

Heavenly Messenger: Come with me, and I will show you the bride, the wife of the Lamb.

He took me away in the Spirit and set me on top of a great, high mountain. As I waited for what I thought was a bride, he showed me the holy city, Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God. It gleamed and shined with the glory of God; its radiance was like the most precious of jewels, like jasper, and it was as clear as crystal. It was surrounded with a wall, great and high. There were twelve gates. Assigned to each gate was a messenger, twelve in all. And on the gates were inscribed the names of the twelve tribes of Israel’s sons. On the east wall were three gates. On the north wall were three gates. On the south wall were three gates. On the west wall were three gates. And the city wall sat perfectly on twelve foundation stones, and on them were inscribed the names of the twelve emissaries of the Lamb.

My guide held a golden measuring rod. With it he measured the city and the gates and the walls. And the city is laid out with four corners in a perfect square, the length the same as its width. He measured the city with his measuring rod, and the result was that its length and width and height are equal: 1,444 miles, a perfect cube. And my guide measured the wall; it was nearly 72 yards high, in human measurements, which was the instrument the guide was using. The wall was made of jasper, while the city itself was made of pure gold, yet it was as clear as glass. The foundation stones of the wall of the city were decorated with every kind of jewel: the first was jasper, the second sapphire, the third agate, the fourth emerald, the fifth onyx, the sixth carnelian, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth chrysoprase, the eleventh jacinth, the twelfth amethyst. The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each gate expertly crafted from a single beautiful pearl. And the city street was pure gold, yet it was as transparent as glass.

And in the city, I found no temple because the Lord God, the All Powerful, and the Lamb are the temple. And in the city, there is no need for the sun to light the day or moon the night because the resplendent glory of the Lord provides the city with warm, beautiful light and the Lamb illumines every corner of the new Jerusalem. And all peoples of all the nations will walk by its unfailing light, and the rulers of the earth will stream into the city bringing with them the symbols of their grandeur and power. During the day, its gates will not be closed; the darkness of night will never settle in. The glory and grandeur of the nations will be on display there, carried to the holy city by people from every corner of the world. Nothing that defiles or is defiled can enter into its glorious gates. Those who practice sacrilege or deception will never walk its streets. Only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s Book of Life can enter.

The Book of Revelation, Chapter 21 (The Voice)

with a poetic memory from the heart of my thought-life that mirrors this:

and in Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments (Ezekiel 6) we read of God’s Judgment in the idolatry of Israel in seeking and worshiping things other than God, who is Light and Love and our Creator.

of which is seen mirrored in the beginning lines of Today’s reading of Psalm 121:

A song of the stairway

I look up to the mountains and hills, longing for God’s help.

But then I realize that our true help and protection

come only from the Lord,

our Creator who made the heavens and the earth.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 121:1-2 (The Passion Translation)

and in this faith and hope in Love we find the boldness, the courage to stand in truth just as seen written down in the first line (the first verse) of chapter 28 in the ancient book of Proverbs:

Guilty criminals experience paranoia

even though no one threatens them.

But the innocent lovers of God,

because of righteousness,

will have the boldness of a young, ferocious lion!

(The Passion Translation)

and mirrored in The Voice:

The wicked run away even when no one is chasing them;

the right-living, however, stand their ground as boldly as lions.

and the remaining 27 verses from chapter 28:

A rebellious nation is thrown into chaos,

but leaders anointed with wisdom will restore law and order.

When a pauper oppresses the destitute,

it’s like a flash flood that sweeps away their last hope.

Those who turn their backs on what they know is right

will no longer be able to tell right from wrong.

But those who love the truth strengthen their souls.

Justice never makes sense to men devoted to darkness,

but those tenderly devoted to the Lord

can understand justice perfectly.

It’s more respectable to be poor and pure than rich and perverse.

To be obedient to what you’ve been taught

proves you’re an honorable child,

but to socialize with the lawless brings shame to your parents.

Go ahead and get rich on the backs of the poor,

but all the wealth you gather will one day be given

to those who are kind to the needy.

If you close your heart and refuse to listen to God’s instruction,

even your prayer will be despised.

Those who tempt the lovers of God with an evil scheme

will fall into their own trap.

But the innocent who resist temptation will experience reward.

The wealthy in their conceit presume to be wise,

but a poor person with discernment can see right through them.

The triumphant joy of God’s lovers releases great glory.

But when the wicked rise to power, everyone goes into hiding.

If you cover up your sin you’ll never do well.

But if you confess your sins and forsake them,

you will be kissed by mercy.

Overjoyed is the one who with tender heart trembles before God,

but the stubborn, unyielding heart will experience even greater evil.

Ruthless rulers can only be compared

to raging lions and roaming bears.

Abusive leaders fail to employ wisdom,

but leaders who despise corruption

will enjoy a long and full life.

A murderer’s conscience will torment him—

a fugitive haunted by guilt all the way to the grave

with no one to support him.

The pure will be rescued from failure,

but the perverse will suddenly fall into ruin.

Work hard and you’ll have all you desire,

but chase a fantasy and you could end up with nothing.

Life’s blessings drench the honest and faithful person,

but punishment rains down upon the greedy and dishonest.

Giving favoritism to the rich and powerful is disgusting,

and this is the type of judge who would betray a man for a bribe.

A greedy man is in a race to get rich,

but he forgets that he could lose what’s most important

and end up with nothing.

If you correct someone with constructive criticism,

in the end he will appreciate it more than flattery.

A person who would reject his own parents and say,

“What’s wrong with that?” is as bad as a murderer.

To make rash, hasty decisions

shows that you are not trusting the Lord.

But when you rely totally on God,

you will still act carefully and prudently.

Self-confident know-it-alls will prove to be fools.

But when you lean on the wisdom from above,

you will have a way to escape the troubles of your own making.

You will never go without if you give to the poor.

But if you’re heartless, stingy, and selfish,

you invite curses upon yourself.

When wicked leaders rise to power,

good people go into hiding.

But when they fall from power,

the godly take their place.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 28 (The Passion Translation)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Saturday, September 28, day 6 of Autumn and day 271 of the year:

[torisfeather]

Also on AO3

If you enjoy my work, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi or Patreon.

"Are you fing?" Yoga pronounced as well as they could, doing their best to adapt their tiny tongue to human sonorities.

Their efforts made Dina smile and she indicated to him that yes, everything was fine. It wasn't completely true, the small human was nervous ever since she had caught a glimpse of Tetraterra, and there was no doubt a good portion of the Fourlings present in the transportation room, Yoga included, had noticed. But it was a familiar, refreshing feeling, like the excitement of being in a new country for the first time, and she didn't have the energy to start an awkward conversation about why and how she felt nervous. Yoga would just have to hear that she was alright.

The shuttle connecting the long-distance ship and the planet's surface was a lot smaller than what Dina had been used to these last weeks. The travelers stood next to each other in the cramped room with no windows that made the little girl feel like she was suffocating. Yoga had sat her on their abdomen, her schoolbag on her back, and had asked for her to "shtay" there, probably so that she wouldn't get lost or accidentally stomped on when the shuttle would touch the ground. Just in case, they had slithered a tentacle around her shoulders, pretexting to pet her head. Dina almost wanted to sulk. Yes, she did tend to wander around but that was no reason.

However, when the shuttle's large door opened with a metallic grinding noise, she was quite happy to be held close on Yoga's chubby tummy. Fourlings were tall, generally over ten feet high. If they saw her in the crowd as they left the shuttle, it wasn't guaranteed that they'd be able to dodge her in time, and the long black hooves at the end of their powerful legs looked too heavy for her to try it.

Yoga patiently carried her outside, silently saluting to the crew members that came to bid farewell to the visitors. The Fourling and the human found themselves on a quite… surprising landing area, at least according to Dina. Some sort of large round yellowish clay platform where the shuttles had to land vertically, like a helicopter. Dina didn't know how they would otherwise land without destroying everything.

Yoga walked into a building shaped like a tall cone, on the side of the area, actually the only building around. The walls were made with some sort of chartreuse plaster that Dina wanted to touch just to check if it felt like earth plaster. Inside, everything was very empty, Dina was starting to think Fourlings didn't understand the concept of seat. Apparently, they didn't need any.

It was inside the building that Dina realized it was hard to breath; nothing too bad, but bad enough for her to notice. She was breathing a little faster, like she was short of breath. The little girl remembered she had already felt this way, during a trip in the mountains, when her parents were alive. The bitter memory stung her eyes and she elected to focus on what was happening around her to stop thinking about it.

There were a few procedures Dina didn't understand, including document exchanges and some talking with Fourlings that were probably guards. Yoga also had to call Wiki on a communication screen to confirm something with them, and Dina felt like this had something to do with her, but she couldn't understand a words of what was being said, so she could only confirm later, when Yoga could leave the building and tell that yes, everything was fine.

Oh, they had trains on Tetraterra. Or at least something that looked like them. Like some sort of long glass – plastic? transparent – tube through which oval shaped wagons sped. The tube would dive into the earth after the platform, and Dina wonder how many of those were under their feet right now. She asked Yoga how they called that and they answered something that sounded like "bifshem". Dina thought that this language actually sounded less like a real language and more like some series of letters one would get by sitting on their own laptop.

Yoga climbed into one of the wagons with Dina still holding onto them like a koala. Like their peers that took the same train, they stuck their four feet into four weird notches in the floor and settled down – which means they folded their knees until the bottom of their abdomen was touching the floor. When the tube's door closed, they held Dina close, and did well for the speed of the wagon almost made the little girl fall over. They dove into the ground, disappointing Dina who would have liked to see a little more of this planet.

The trip lasted less than an hour. The wagon was silent, slightly lit with a green light. The Fourlings, standing next to each other, looked like they were sleeping with their eyes open. Even Yoga. Dina, snuggled against her friend's thorax, almost felt alone, among those tall wax statues. She kinda wanted to get down and try to make them react, but she didn't had the nerve to. There was something eerie in the tall, dark, unmoving silhouettes. Then the wagon left the ground and the sunlight came back, and came back the life in the four eyes of the Fourlings. The ones that had to leave left, the ones that had to get in got in, and the wagon sped away again.

Yoga came back to life after three stations, and when he left the train, only then did he seem to notice how moved Dina was from the trip. She couldn't explain clearly what was wrong, but since she was calming down now and they had to go somewhere, Yoga didn't insist.

There wasn't a train station around the platform where passengers were getting off. No inspectors, no post or counter. Just a sign that Dina couldn't decipher, and yellowish clay platform, then dark grass, harsh and rigid, like a floor made out of hedgehogs, flattened under the large black Fourling hooves before rising up again, perfectly intact. There were very little flowers but Dina noticed that "eatable" trees were growing here and there and that passersby would pick some leaves for themselves once in awhile. But as much as she looked, she couldn't find any street or road barring the ground. Fourlings walked at their own pace, in any direction they liked, without any other transport than their own four legs.

Cone shaped buildings sprouted around the train platform, without any real order. Some seemed to be made of wood or clay but most of them were made of that chartreuse plaster Dina had noticed when she left the space shuttle. There were no doors or windows, just large arcs and round holes in the walls. Dina had no idea where they were going, but Yoga seemed to know the way, so she just stayed put, holding onto them like a little monkey holding onto its mother.

They carried her to a building that looked like all the others, a tall chartreuse cone. Inside, a large group of Fourlings was waiting for them, and a warm smell of leather and cinnamon. A welcoming smell. Yoga, moved, lifted a tentacle as they greeted the welcoming committee. It was mostly old people assigned to agglomeration maintenance and administration. The Guardian, Wikivabimaog, was among them, and when they walked forth Yoga had no trouble detecting the tender notes in their scent.

"On behalf of the department's representatives, I welcome you back in the department, Yogagoarabameg," they said. Dina half let go of Yoga to turn to them and Wiki had to keep themselves from rising a tentacle to touch her. How could such a dangerous planet produce such an enchanting species, they had no idea. "You too, Tinga," they added, and Dina smiled as she recognized her name.

"I am glad to be home," Yoga answered, with a smell that reminded the little girl of freshly cut grass. They quickly summarized their stay on Earth to the group, confirmed they had sent the required documents to the agency and had the plants they brought back from Earth sent to the scientific greenhouse – news that caused a sweet happy smell to float around Wiki. When everything was said and done, he was finally able to address the elephant in the room. "Have you taken a decision about Tinga?"

"The chosen representative for this decision have debated before your arrival," Wiki said. Yoga understood they were the same that had been chosen to welcome them home. "Is Tinga eating enough?"

"I believe so, they are stripping the trees bare at each meal."

"Are they healthy?"

"Certainly."

"Do they behave normally for a humang?"

Yoga had to think for a small moment about that question – after all, they weren't sure they knew how a human normally behaved. But then they thought about Dina's drawings, her liveliness and her desire for discovery and exploration. "Yes," they said confidently.

"Are they able to adapt to a Jakebui lifestyle?"

"They are starting to learn our language," Yoga assured. "And their needs are compatible with ours."

"Do they seem content?"

"Smell for yourself!" Yoga said, carrying Dina forward from the tip of their tentacles. The girl, slightly intimidated, smiled at the representatives' unfathomable faces. She held out a hand towards Wiki, and laughed when the Fourling held out a tentacle without getting what she meant. She shook the tip like she had seen adults do in movies.

The sweet smell of her joy was enough to convince Wiki and all the other Fourlings seemed to share his thoughts. "In this case, the representative do not emit any objection to Tinga's stay on the planet as long as their needs are met. You will be responsible for their wellbeing, Yogagoarabameg."

Yoga's happy scent became so strong Dina pretended to pinch her nose. "I am thankful for the department's representatives' trust," they said. "I promise to be worthy of the responsibility."

An approving nuance tainted the representatives' scent. There were congratulations, thanks and several polite requests to touch the human's hair. Thankfully, Dina never seemed upset to have her hair touched. Yoga proudly watched as their little one left their arms and walked among the curious Fourlings, smiling and playing in their tentacles, somehow pronouncing the few words she knew in their language. The older ones seemed to find her particularly adorable. "I was right," Wiki said, standing next to Yoga. "They love them too."

"You were right and so was I," Yoga confirmed. "They are happier here than they were home."

"Are you going to take them to school?" Wiki asked.

"Of course, they're a little one!"

"Yes, but a little lightshy-person."

"They're a little one," Yoga said again. "I will not treat them differently because they are from Danger Home."

Wiki didn't immediately answer but they were silently approving. As a department's Gardian, they knew better than anyone that all little ones were to be treated fairly. "Do you think they will get along with the other little ones? You are not going to put them in the dormitory, are you?"

"Not yet, but when they will be able to speak it will be good for them to be around little ones like them. Humangs are very social.

"I believe I noticed," Wiki said. "They will stay with you until then, won't they?"

"Yes. Actually, if it's no trouble, would you know where to contact an engineer?"

"I know one I can send to you. Why do you need an engineer?"

"I would like to replicate certain aspects of an earthling lifestyle for Tinga to feel a little more comfortable. I need furniture that you cannot find here…"

As Yoga expected Dina soon started to feel tired. They were starting to remember her daily cycle and naturally held her close when she needed somewhere to sleep. They silently saluted their peers before heading to the agglomeration suburb, where there were the little ones' dormitory and their own personal space. Wiki was going with them, since they lived at the dormitory too, with all the children they were responsible for. Yoga felt almost proud, they were almost a Gardian themself now, with their little Dina.

Fortunately, the engineer Wiki contacted as soon as they had access to a communication screen only needed a few hours to fulfill their first request. Apparently, there had been an engineer among the tourists sent to Earth and one of them had had the brilliant idea of taking back earthling objects' blueprints. When Dina woke up, it was to find Yoga proudly brandishing a large blue blanket, made with a material Dina innocently took for cotton.

During the weeks that followed, the bed was the next acquisition, placed at the end of what had to be Yoga's apartment. Which was placed on a floor of one of the cone-shaped buildings, standing at the border between the city and wilder areas. It was composed of a bathroom, which equipment Dina was familiar with after her space trip, and an almost empty life space. On the first floor was a room that was used both as an office and a classroom. The sunlight would flow through the large round windows, always at the same place as the moon would balance over the horizon. It never came down. The planet always had the same face towards its sun , and Fourlings, even though they slept regularly, had no notion of day or night.

Later, Yoga got curtains, to allow Dina to have a true night's sleep. Then, one by one, numerous elements required for a little human's well being. Even if she had to do with little at first, Dina wasn't really difficult. She would sometimes complain, but more from frustration than from a true tantrum. She could sleep easily on the hard ship's floor, so sleeping with nothing but a blanket was no problem.

Except for one thing.

When Dina woke up, the first days, Yoga, Wiki and several young Fourlings that came around often were all watching her with their large unfathomable eyes. As much as she asked what was going on, she couldn't draw an explanation out of them. This weird habit of watching her sleep stopped after some time, but Yoga kept coming to watch her from time to time, which always troubled her.

The reason was actually quite simple. Dina had the habit of cocooning herself in her blanket to sleep, like a little caterpillar. And when she did that, she was so cute Yoga couldn't help watching her for ages, silently screaming from the adorableness and resisting the terrible desire to pet her hair to avoid waking her up.

[prorevenge]

Revenge for the boss from hell. 30k+ payable to me, thanks.

very long story. TL;DR at the end.

I worked for this small business IT Consulting firm for seven years. Owned and operated by a person we will call Dick.

First two years things were fine. Occasionally this guy would take things a little too far, he was just passionate about his opinion and always had to be right, so I’d always give him that. I don’t have to agree but I saw his need and left it at that.

What I started to discover however is the turn over for the company is a couple of years and I began to realize why. The Boss (Dick), picks one worker and makes it his life’s work to make that person as miserable as possible. I’m guessing the reason, ego purposes?

For months I’d hear him shouting all the time at this one guy. The co-worker after leaving the meeting would go back to his office from where I had a view and I could just see the stress and misery in his face. Till finally I said to him, “what the hell man? He’s always giving you a hard time here lately, what did you do?”

He didn’t seem to know. He confided in me right there the level of hell he’s in and some of the things Dick has said or done. I couldn’t believe some of the details he shared on what Dick both said and did. I felt things were embellished because people just don’t do some of the things he said. I would realize much later he was telling the truth as crazy as it sounded.

A few months later he finally found another job and left. I talk to him couple times a year and he always said it was the best choice in his life he ever made.

Dick’s sights then narrowed on to me. I can take a lot. So for the next five years I took it. He would insult me pretty much every day, each day more and more colorful. I didn’t really care or take it home with me so it wasn’t a problem for me, for Dick I would learn it was.

Unrelated, five years in I put in my notice because he asked me to get a couple certifications and if I did he would take care of me. Once I did what was requested he backed out of the agreement and played coy. Once he received my notice a couple months later he called me up within a minute, begged me to stay. It’s important to note he only asked for two certifications, I not only obtained those but an addional fourteen on top of that. Each time he would tell me “Great job, you will be well taken care of”. He lied 16 times in total on this matter. He matched the offer and increased my Salary up another 15k. Not looking forward to starting a new job I decided to stay.

What I learned is I was a fool to do that and money isn’t everything. Go where you’ll be the most happy. Best life advice I can give after this experience.

He left me alone for a couple months after that, he wasn’t in the office much either. Then a day struck his fancy to start things up again only he ran out of material. My work is solid and he had no opportunity to criticize that.

The only method he had was bashing his ego and sarcasm around but he realized it had no impact on me. Here is a Brief snippet of any given day of what it’s like to be selected as his target. He would communicate a problem he was having in length. Let’s say he complained about his cell phone. After he finished his story you would provide a helpful suggestion or advice from your experience. In turn he would ask with an entitled and sarcastic tone if you were an expert on the matter and wanted to see those credentials. I learn fast, just never speak unless spoken too. Any comment or insult he made I would respond without emotion and just say ok.

Because Dick wasn’t able to get a rise out of me the old fashioned way he decided to create fictional content for a new direction.

Our small company would go out to eat as a whole, or just order in on Fridays. I ate half my sandwich, and wrapped the remaining to take home. He saw me with leftover food and claimed that I was taking home dinner on his dime. Any time there was any leftover, even a single French fry he’d be there with a magnify glass for inspection to find any conceivable way to yell.

So on Fridays I started packing my lunch, I’d order a beverage and a side. I’d finish the beverage and the side. Then eat what I brought, if I didn’t finish it he had no opportunity. You could see his look of disappointment when he would scan my plate.

This went on a couple weeks, he had no opportunity and couldn’t complain. He realized he failed again. So then he came up with the next item.

The Bathroom. This I actually did a little research on and couldn’t find anything legally I could do. But anytime anyone would use the rest room he would blame me for the smell. Instead of hello when passing in the highway he would say “Did you use spray” or “Did you light a match” as hateful as he could, but that was his normal. It went much deeper than this, more then I care to share. But I honestly believe Dick has a fetish on this topic which is why I looked in to it legally. It was just always on his mind and a little too important to him, let’s just leave the rest unsaid.

I must have visually tipped him off I didn’t approve of this because he never got bored with it. However I did at least get him to stop asking about if I used spray. Anytime I used the bathroom, even to take a piss I’d use the entire can of air freshener. This wasn’t an easy task as I’d have to mask my face to empty that entire thing. Takes a while surprisingly to empty an entire can in a session. One thing is for certain when I was finished, someone used the “spray” and Dick was buying a new can. Took about five weeks but I think he figured it out spending so much on spray, he stuck to just asking about matches after that. He even provided them in the bathroom.

One day we were out with a client. The current topic at this moment was “what is your favorite meal? My answer was “hot wings, I could eat those every day!” Dick jumps in, his comment “Just think how bad the bathroom would smell”. Most at table wouldn’t get the context and direction of that comment, but I knew. He did this in front of a client, in public, while people are eating.

I almost walked out. Then I remembered he drove and it’s a long way back. Plus Dick is over 60, what kind of person knocks out a senior? I had to chant that in my mind to keep control. I never get pissed but after years this was the last straw! I seriously pleaded with myself all day not to do it because I’d go to jail and he would win.

During this time period he also started playing with my money. Behind 4-5 months with reimbursement, week late on paychecks, stuff like that. You ask where it’s out, he says “next week” you explain he already said that last week, then he’d play coy.

I finished out the day without reacting somehow. Took everything I had but I’m not going to allow this to be unanswered. That was dangerous and too close. If he want’s trouble, I’ll give it to him! I will get even in a lawful way, somehow.

Then the idea came to me that night, did my research and odds were in my favorite that it could work. I’m just going to mirror him until he fires me. When he fires me he will have to pay half my current salary of 65k until I get a new job. You know what? I can live perfectly fine on 32.5k. Why not make him pay out of his pocket 32.5k for everything he had said and done? He would have to pay this over the course of six months or until I found a new job. So my goal was to make him pay me $32,500 to be exact over 6 months as restitution for what he said at that table.

I read up on all the rules in my state for Unemployment. Each state is different. But basically to qualify for it, it can’t be your fault if you were fired. So If I stood there and told him where to put it, that’s a no go. However if I was laid off I would qualify.

So I hit him where it hurt first, his favorite thing in the world is meetings. Because he loves to hear himself talk and take you step by step through his thought process with a noble tone congratulating himself for his thinking and why his way is the best way. So I started speaking up and illustrated a more efficient way that cost less.

He would argue, sometimes red in the face mad. Especially if others in the meeting liked my idea. He knew he was wrong but he would dismiss them and demand it be done his way.

I then started talking about him within ear shot on purpose. I’d say things like “Make sure you perform that Dicks way, takes longer but it’s better than him releasing the Kraken”. It would make everyone laugh, but it wasn’t a direct insult.

Trust me when I say this guy has a massive ego and I was counting on this for pissing him off. I laid it on thick, in time it took its toll. I knew it did because what came next.

His retaliation was the kitchen sink, he had nothing so he started accusing me of things, then playing coy when it came to reviewing the details or facts. He would put words in my month, I’d state he was wrong and then he would tell me I was. All he was doing was opening the door so he could play a revengeful sarcasm game. I know it’s a game so I decided to take his new toy away from him by just going along with whatever it is he said. Which further made him mad because what he was doing had no effect on me.

Fast forward six months, yes I’m STILL working here. But were only receiving a couple calls a day which are fifteen minutes each. This was due to Dick’s bad business discussions.

While I took delight knowing he was hemorrhaging money for months, I was hoping for a lay off to execute my plan. Nothing. I have to make him want to fire me, it’s the only way. I have to beat him at his own game while providing the illusion he is in control.

So I turned up the heat. I was asked to travel to a client by the 2nd in command. I said “I’m sorry man, I haven’t received reimbursement in six months for travel expenses and I just had my work cell phone service turned off. With the way business is right now things aren’t looking good, I’d be stupid to take on more expenses, and I’m owed over two thousand dollars as it is. Once that’s paid in full I’d be more than happy to continue on a week to week bases after reimbursements”.

That day Dick had a meeting with me and setup a payment plan to pay the money back. After three weeks it would be paid. So I said to Dick “understood, after three weeks I’ll be on the road again, cool” just making sure he understood because he wanted to play games and not pay the amount in full Dick is now going to pay me my salary for three weeks to do nothing until the reimbursement fee is paid.

Guy has a several million dollar house, goes on vacations has a boats, etc. Out of all the things I’ve done so far, this had made the most significant impact. Because I out whit him at his own game, it embarrassed him in the eyes of others. Why? Because the second of command was instructed to drive me anywhere I was needed. So I had my own personal Taxi driver for the few calls we had over the next two weeks. Two weeks he paid two people, me and the admin to drive and watch me work. I was friends with the admin and he knew exactly what I was doing and he loved every second of it.

Then on the third week, three days until the final payment, it happens. Dick enters my office, and gives me the filmier demeaning dog wave gesture to follow him without speaking. We sit down and he asks me what the problem is?

I told him the problem is he needs a new hobby. In one hand you have someone sitting here that busted his ass for the last seven years, in the other your need to bash someone’s face in the dirt with your ego. The problem with me is I won’t conform and provide both.

He asked for some examples. I said you know what I’m talking about and even if I did review them you’d play coy. He then played coy about being coy, I laughed.

After a pause He said if you feel that way why didn’t you speak to me about it? I reminded him that I did twice and both times you humiliated me for it and said “this is I.T!” What the I.T Career that I’ve done the last twenty years had to do with his ego I’ll never know.

He responded with I’m behind the times, my work has been poor and out of the kindness of his heart he gave me a raise after I demanded it. I responded with Ok.

Then he finally said what I wanted to hear “I want to call it quits”.

I remained professional and communicated I’m sorry things didn’t work out and spent the next two hours reviewing stuff with co-workers on how to handle certain things. I shook his hand with a smile and left without saying anything negative. The fruit of my labor will do the talking for me shortly.

In route on the way home I called family members to tell them the good news. Everyone was so happy for me. It finally happened.

When I arrived home I promptly adjusted the dates on the unemployment forms I had filled out already in wait and submitted them. I called the state and confirmed everything was documented on my end accurately and now it’s the waiting game.

My plan wasn’t realized until my boss receive the letter in the mail about a week later stating he’s going to have shell out my Salary for the next six months or until I found a job.

Panicked at this point he realized what I set him up for. So He claimed he fired me for poor work performance. The state said, ok prove it. In this state it’s the employers’ burden to prove it. My record had no blemishes and he couldn’t use a client because a number of people at any given client would vouch for me and the truth as they all liked me and appreciated my work.

Realizing the shit storm he’s in now I’m told from the admin friend he was on the phone with them quite a while twisting and turning the fake stories out. Bottom line, the state needed to see documented verbal and written warnings, signed so he couldn’t fake them. He called his lawyer and his lawyer told him he’s screwed.

Later my boss told co-workers he felt bad for me that I couldn’t find work and he decided to give unemployment to me to save face of his ego. That made official that his ego was effected, he didn’t want anyone to know the truth. At this point he realized I got the better of him when I fought back and I won, big!

In a last ditch effort he lied about how much I made. The state sent me paper work stating this fact and asked me to prove my salary. So I gave them copies of checks and pay stubs for the last six months. After that things went easy, he was flagged for lying which made the reaming steps effortless the state rep told me.

For the reason I was terminated I said “Dick the owner made some poor business discussions that impacted the company losing business and clients. He let me go as a business discussion, in his shoes I’d of done the same and understand.”

I wrote it that way for a reason. But Dick didn’t realize why. I knew what his reaction would be. The state saw a down to earth guy that was honest and understanding on paper. Then they saw Dicks predicted response of being a dick, most likely yelling and of course lying. I had no doubt that would seal the deal simply on the evaluation on character before the facts even entered in to it.

His reaction being, his ego had to take it up the ass. Once for failing as a business man, another for me saying so on state paper work, and lastly accepting that I got the better of him and all this time I have been coaxing him to make this move.

The only thing left to do is pay me, every single week. And his money goes to the state first then the state sends it to me, so he can’t play games with my money or the state is coming after him.

Over the next six months I took that time to enjoy myself, pursue hobbies and lived life to the fullest on his dime as a reward for his comment. Once the letter came to renew unemployment, Dick would no longer have to pay or only a parentage I forget, the important thing to know is tax payers would have to pay after six months not Dick. So I declined the renewal. Three weeks later I had a new job.

It was either that or knock him out during that lunch, It wasn’t easy, took work but I’m proud of the way I handled it. I feel vindicated, it’s pretty rare the world is balanced, evil often wins. But not this time. This time it cost Dick, 32,500 dollars to be exact. All in all I can say 10/10 would do it again.

Due to his age I can’t imagine that it would be a humbling experience at this point. But it was for me, money isn’t everything, there is only one thing of true value, your happiness. A year later, I’m very happy now, I enjoy my new job and my new boss. I discovered myself again, who I really am. The goofy friendly guy, my light is no longer dimmed by a dark presence and I can be myself without punishment.

(source) (story by Divine_Squire)