#this is death row last meal level shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

abluescarfonwaston · 4 years

Text

Shapeshifter Au - 14

“So. You’re a shapeshifter huh?” Eskel asked taking a drink from his water skin. Leaning performativity casual against the stone. The mangled side of his face hidden from view.

“Yep.” He tugged the wool cap over his ears to cover against the biting cold of the courtyard. Ciri’s power sung out in frustration as she repeated the training drills over and over again. As she had been for days.

Hopefully they’d call a break soon or he would have to before she bubbled over.

His skin prickled with discomfort. Eskel hummed so quietly he’d only noticed it when Lambert had taken Ciri out hunting and they’d run into each other in the library. The tiny thrum of his magic.

“Bloody well glad for it too. I’ve no idea how you all stand winters up here as people.” He tucked his glove under the sleeve of his jacket before returning them to their spot under his armpits. “Half tempted to spend the winter as a polar bear so I don’t freeze to death.”

“You could. Lambert would be very jealous.”

“Ah but I’ve seen your very impressive bear skin rug and I’d hate to give you any ideas.”

“I wouldn’t-“

“I know.” He bumped their shoulders together. “I’m messing with you.”

A few beats pasted before Eskel burst out with a forced ease, “Lambert caught a buck last year and Geralt wouldn’t let us eat it because it looked too much like you apparently.” Eskel’s nerves made him want to fidget. But it was really far too cold to move his hands from their warm spot.

“You did eat it though right? Because otherwise that’s a huge waste.” He smiled crookedly, watching him from the corner of his eye.

“Course. He didn’t talk to us for a week.”

“And you noticed?” Eskel smirked back at him. Easily in spite of his discomfort. He smiled so easily. Eskel's amusement tickling his skin.

“It took a few days.”

Ciri’s frustration grew several decibels and he pushed off the wall. “You are far too attractive for any of our good.” He told him before he leapt from the staircase they’d rested against, soaring the space between them.

He cawed out his approach as she swung at the training dummy and-

Suddenly he was flying in the other direction.

He shifted before he smashed into the ground and rolled with the force of her shock wave.

“Ow.” He protested when he finally came to a stop in a snowbank.

After one too many moments of silence he looked up. To all the wolves gapping at Ciri and her frozen in place. Training sword held in place where the dummy had once been, now it's straw was scattered across the yard.

“I’m fine thank you for asking.” He called out. Unsticking them all as they looked to him. “Just got thrown across the courtyard. Totally fine. No need to worry about the poor bard.”

“Jaskier?” She turned, far too much concern in her eyes.

“No I am actually fine.” He assured standing and brushing snow off. Tugging the cap down to insure it stayed in place. He frowned. “Better than fine actually.” His skin was warm and his ache that had settled into his bones disappeared without a trace. The bruises he felt should have been forming didn’t. “No harm done. But I do think it’s time for a break yes?”

They nodded. “Early lunch.” Eskel agreed. As they stalked down into the hall.

They set the table as the witchers finished the meal prep and he curled up on the arm of Ciri’s chair and began finger brushing her hair so he could braid it.

“You’re not scared?” She asked as he worked free a knot.

“Of what? Cause I’m scared of a lot of things- spiders. Frogs. Wasps. Cages. A string breaking while I preform at competition-“

“Me.”

His heart broke for her and he continued his work without pause. “No. Don’t see the point in that.”

“You’re afraid of frogs but you don’t see the point in being scared of someone who threw you across the courtyard?”

“Someone has never tried to eat a frog before and nearly died from the hallucinogenic affects I see. It was not a pleasant afternoon and I feel completely justified.” He ran his fingers threw her hair once more to check before starting his braid. “You accidentally threw me across the courtyard, which Geralt has also done and most of them weren’t accidents, and I feel better than I have in years so no. I’m definitely not.”

She was quiet as he worked so he hummed a song to fill the space.

“You’re really not hurt?”

“Really not hurt.” He promised. “Haven’t felt this alive since- oh.”

“Oh?”

“Since your mother tossed the entire banquet hall away to protect your father.”

She spun her head to him and he barely managed to hold onto the braid. “You were there?”

“Front row to the whole debacle. Would you like to hear about it?”

She nodded as they heard the other’s voices down the hall. They both glanced to the door. Unable to not listen.

“Wasn’t just some sign shit Geralt- that was fucking magic. Real chaos. We don’t know shit about real magic! You can’t expect us to-“

“I know you think human hearing is terrible but it’s not that terrible boys!” He called out to them finishing the braid. “How about I tell you that story after dinner? Hm?”

She nodded. He kissed her crown and he watched her sit up. Regally. Preparing for the conversation ahead.

“Ah to suffer another meal with the witcher’s terrible table manners.” He sighed as they dropped the food on the table. “The things we must bare.”

She shot him a small smile.

“How come you didn’t tell us she had magic!” Lambert snapped at- at him?

He blinked at him. “What?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be able to tell shit like that- why didn’t you tell us!”

“Huh?” He glanced at the others at the table. Irritation or concern or confusion on their faces as they studied him. Including Geralt’s. Which was the real shocker. He looked between Geralt and Ciri; who appeared just as flummoxed by the situation as he was, as he gapped.

When it became clear that no one else was going to answer his very obvious question he forced the words out in a voice that was, perhaps, slightly higher than intended. “I thought you knew.” He told Geralt with a wave of his arms.

“How would I know?”

The incredulity in Geralt’s voice was just insulting frankly. He waved between them. Noises floundering out of him. “I- what- its- what.” He forced himself to take a deep breath. “What other blatantly obvious things am I supposed to tell you now? The sky is blue. The keep is made of stone. Ciri has magic. I thought you knew!”

Geralt sighed into his hands. Lambert speared a hunk of lunch.

“Can you tell how strong she is?” Vesemir asked pragmatically as he grabbed his own food. “If we can train her-“

“Oh you definitely can’t.” They glared at him. “What? The only one here with anything even approaching magic is Eskel and no offense but you’re nowhere near her level.”

Eskel sat up a little straighter in his seat as he devoured his lunch.

“Who is?” Geralt asked. “Near her level.”

He leaned back in his chair and thought about it. He didn’t grab any food. He wasn’t hungry and probably wouldn’t be until the magic wore off.

He’d eaten as a griffin though. His mouth tasted like blood- but he hadn’t needed to had he? He’d just wanted to. Wanted to eat and sleep and kill.

Show me what you are.

“Jaskier?” He jolted and looked over at Ciri.

“Ah. Well. You know Yennefer?” Geralt shot him a dirty look. “Just checking, you’ve had issues with amnesia before! Anyway.” He continued with a wave of his hand. “If Yennefer is lightning then Ciri is the sun.”

They all stopped. Actually that bread didn’t look half bad. He ripped a chunk off and chewed on it.

“So.” He mouthed around the bread. “She’s going to need an actual teacher.”

“Could you do it?” She asked.

“No.” He laughed around the bread crumbs. “I am magic. That doesn’t mean I can do magic.”

“Marigold?” Lambert suggested. Triss- he supplied after a moment.

“Sure.” He agreed. “After Yennefer turns us down.”

The room dropped several degrees as he chewed.

“Why would we ask Yennefer first?” Eskel growled.

Geralt sighed. “Because if we don’t she’ll never let the slight go.”

“Is” Ciri hesitated, taking in the faces around the room. “She that bad?”

He wobbled his head. “Well.” He drew out the word. Thinking of all the times she’d treated him like nothing- like less than nothing. Like something that had once had great value but was now irrevocably broken.

And then he thought of the other mage. So much weaker and yet able to dominate him completely.

How Yennefer had never done that. Had never wanted that. Even though it would have been so easy.

And then he thought of Ciri and how much she needed Yennefer. How her chaos swelled and terrified her. How Yennefer was lighting in a bottle and might be the only one who could teach her to control the sun.

And then. Then he followed the djinn’s magic in Geralt’s chest to the lightning in her veins. To the longing in her chest.

She wanted something real.

“No.” He said at last. “We all just took Geralt in the breakup.” He grinned easily.

There were several snorts and Geralt glared fiercely at him.

“You.” Ciri glanced between him and Geralt. Trying to judge the situation. “Dated her?”

“That’s a word for it.” Lambert grinned nastily into his ale. “I’d call it-“

Geralt smacked him.

“Why’d they break up- I hear you asking.”

“She didn’t!” Geralt growled.

“But she would given the opportunity.” He smirked as Lambert shoved him in retaliation. Distracting him. “And the answer is Geralt makes terrible life choices.”

She softly laughed and he counted it amongst his greatest victories.

“What can you shift into?” Vesemir asked, pointedly not looking up from his book, where they all gathered around the fire before bed. A storm howled outside. He suspected if not for the warmth of Ciri’s magic he’d be frozen from the draft alone. The impressive amount of furs Lambert was wrapped in strengthened his conclusion. He adjusted the cap over his ears anyway. “Geralt’s only mentioned beasts before but when you meet back up he said you were a griffin.”

Geralt tensed against his back and Ciri glanced back at him from where she was propped against his legs. He turned the page, even though he hadn’t finished reading it, to show how nonplussed he was by the question.

Over the years he’d only ever explained what he could do, what it meant, his limitations perhaps a handful of times. There were so few people in the world he’d trust with this.

His life he trusted to a great many friends. But this. This was his freedom.

“Suppose I’ve never felt like a griffin before.” He didn’t intend to feel like one ever again. “Or had the magic needed to follow through on such an impulse.”

“So if you had the magic,” Vesemir glanced at Ciri, “And felt like it you could be anything?”

“Well I think you’re underestimating the importance of feeling like it but I suppose that’s the general stroke of it.”

“Have you been a bed? A chair? That’d be real helpful I bet. Hide in a broom closet and just. Be a broom til the mob passes.”

“Have you ever really felt like an inanimate object Lambert?” He shrugged. “Shifting into a mouse usually accomplishes the same goal anyway.”

“If you shifted into the monsters in the bestiary Ciri could safely apply the skills she learns on how to identify and best the different creatures.” Vesemir stated.

Ah. Now he knew why Vesemir had brought this up when Geralt had clearly told them not to, based on the way they’d all danced around their questions since he’d arrived. Well. Except Lambert, but he'd only arrived a few days passed.

“The day I turn into a necrophage is the day I die. Seen more than enough of their innards over the years to know that’s never going to be in the cards thank you very much.”

“Alright no necrophages. But anything you could shift into we could add a far more detailed description of to the bestiary. Updated drawings. Behavioral notes-“ Eskel seemed remarkably enthused about the idea.

He thought about how empty the library was. Figured there was probably a reason for that.

“He’s not a party trick.” Geralt snapped, very valiantly.

“No, no it’s fine.” They all looked so excited by the prospect. Ciri’s eyes were gleaming. He itched under the cap. Hats were really not his look. But it was better than his hair. “Requests? I make no promises about being able to do it but I can certainly try.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt warned.

“I’ve got energy to burn after this morning.” He reassured waving his hand in Geralt’s face behind him. “Which you should know given the bonfire you made when you used igni to light the fireplace.”

“That was cause of you?”

“Pretty sure.” He nodded to Eskel. “Requests? Or shall I go back to my book?”

“A unicorn?” Ciri asked.

Simple enough in theory but, “They’re extinct.” A sad truth Geralt had confirmed years ago. “I’d rather not be the last of my kind.”

Are you the last unclaimed familiar? There are so few of you in this world. The mage had said. Had he ever met any? Where their thousands of people like him who hid in small mage-less towns or wild unkempt forests. Who didn’t shift and stayed safe in a single form their whole lives?

Maybe there were countless people like him and he’d just never recognized them- how would he recognize them? Maybe there were loads of them and he just didn’t know where to look.

Or maybe he was one of the last. One of the last whose mind wasn’t held under chaotic waters to drown until he forgot everything he was.

Maybe he was one of the last.

Then where had they gone? There were days long past where every sorcerer, mage and druid had a familiar. Someone like him.

He’d never met any who did. Not that he'd met many.

“You could do the griffin again. Since we know you can shift into that.” Eskel suggested.

Geralt’s arm squeezed at his bicep. Like he suspected what a bad idea that was.

Or maybe he just didn’t want to see the form that hadn’t recognized him even a little.

“You could always try a dragon.” Geralt teased before leaning in and whispering right into his ear. “You don’t have to. We can just leave.”

The sparkle in Ciri’s eye grew.

“The only issue there- since I now know they’re real- is that I’ve never seen a living one. That egg does not count!”

“Borch wasn’t dead?”

“What?” He snapped around blazing fury. “Borch was a dragon?”

“You. Missed that part?”

“I am now Extra mad you didn’t wake me up. I could have seen a living dragon? You ass!”

“Not my fault you slept in!”

“Do you want to play the blame game about that day- because I definitely think missing seeing a living dragon is one of the lesser issues I could choose to be angry about.” He collapsed into Geralt’s lap and glared up at him. “Hm? Hmmmm?”

Geralt looked away but nodded.

“Glad we agree. Alrighty let’s see what I can do.” He climbed off the back of the couch. He was irritated and wanted to impress his cub. His mate’s family. That would help. Probably.

He shifted up into a bear. Because it was easier to feel big when one was big.

Lambert whistled.

What had he grabbed onto to become a griffin anyway?

He’d been caged. He was cold. He was alone and unwanted but not powerless.

He wasn’t powerless now. He could protect-

His mouth was full of blood.

The form snapped under him. Dropping him down until his heart raced and his incisors grated against each other and his ears were tight against his back and-

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s hand reached down to hold him and he shifted up to meet it. Tail wagging slowly even as his ears stayed folded back. “That’s enough.”

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t enough.

They liked his songs well enough but that was all he had. He wasn’t pretty or handsome with his terrible hair shoved into an ugly winter toque and Geralt's ill fitting clothing and he wasn’t strong or helpful or a good cook. He couldn’t teach Ciri magic. Couldn’t hunt them more food even as he ate theirs.

No wonder your mate’s dead.

No wonder your mate didn’t want you.

Maybe she’ll make a better travel companion then.

They’d asked one thing of him and he couldn’t even do it.

It was easy to be a form he loved.

He didn’t love the griffin.

He didn’t love what it had done. Even if it had saved him.

He was scooped into strong arms and there was a dismissal of “Bedtime,” and he tried to swallow the sounds escaping his throat. Tried to stop the way his paws shifted to claws shifted to wings.

He couldn’t even do this. Couldn’t even be something useful.

Sure he could be a horse and carry them when Roach got tired. Could scout as a raven or pull buckthorn from a river without risk of drowning. But all the wolves and all the cats and Witchers knew he wasn’t useful. He didn’t want to be.

And when he wanted to be he couldn’t.

“Jaskier.” Geralt repeated under the blankets in their bed. “Talk to me.”

There was a request there- what shape do you want me to be- I’ll stay that way forever if it means you’ll keep me. Please.

“Thank you. Can you tell me what’s wrong? You haven’t done,” He grit his teeth as he pulled him in closer to his chest. “That in a long time.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s not.” Geralt squeezed the back of his neck. Tension leached from him. Geralt nuzzled at the toque pushing it up with his nose.

He grabbed it. Pulling it down firmly. “Don’t.”

“Jaskier.” He plead.

He curled tighter in on himself and pulled the hat over his eyes. “Just couldn’t find a form that fit. Hope you got me out of there before it got too repulsive- although maybe Ciri will appreciate knowing she’s not the only one who can’t control her magic right? Gotta find the little victories.”

“Jaskier what’s this really about?”

“Nothing.”

Geralt grumbled his frustration.

It wasn’t. It wasn’t about anything.

It was about how maybe he was the last of his people- his family- and it was about how his form wasn’t what he needed it to be and it was about the things he’d done that he couldn’t remember and didn’t want to and the blood in his mouth and it wasn’t about any of that.

He was scared and frustrated and alone and not good enough and-

“Is Jaskier okay?” Ciri called from the crack in the door.

He shifted out of the bed to her despite Geralt’s protests.

“I’m alright.” He leaned against the door frame. “I’m sorry for scaring you- I know its very upsetting looking when I shift like that.” He didn't know but the way Geralt paled after an attack like that was proof enough.

“Was that because I asked you to shift? Or because of this morning?”

“No.” He crooned. “No. I-“ He paused. Took her hands in his. “It was like this morning. You got frustrated and your magic responded. My shifting responds to my emotions too so when I got overwhelmed that happened. But it doesn’t hurt.” The emotions that caused it hurt. But the shifting didn’t at least. “Promise I’m okay.”

She watched him sternly.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes and rolled back on his heels. Sweeping a hand in front of his face dramatically. “I’m very worried Yennefer responds quickly to our message because she always looks immaculate and I am really not a hat person.”

“Really?” Her lips curved upward just a twitch.

“Ciri dear I am wearing Geralt’s clothing! I haven’t worn a color in months. Months!” He slid down the door frame and pressed a hand to his forehead. “I’m dying. Melitele forbid Yennefer see me like this. My reputation will be ruined. Ruined!”

Ciri huffed out a laugh. “Oh no. How terrible.”

“It is! I could hear the sarcasm in your tone but I am ignoring it for the sake of our friendship!” Geralt picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. “The audacity! The horror!” He continued to lament as they bid good night.

Geralt dumped him in the bed. “Gonna tell me what it was actually about now?”

“I am genuinely concerned about meeting Yennefer looking like this.” Geralt scowled down at him. “Would you feel confident and prepared if you had to face a monster without your armor?”

“Yennefer isn’t a monster.”

“You’re missing the point. I like how I look. I know it’s just hair and I know it’s just clothing but I don’t look like me. I don’t feel like me. I’m wandering the woods without armor and even when I’m not being attacked it’s still scary because I know how easy it would be to bleed me out.”

Geralt considered that and slowly sat down next to him. “Okay. I don’t know how to fix that.”

“Time will fix it. I’ll visit a proper barber and my tailor in the spring and all will be well again.” He knew that. He did. It just didn't make it easier.

He nodded. Tilted his head and looked at his face. Then dragged his gaze lower to the way his body did and didn’t fill out Geralt’s clothing. “I like how you look.”

“Sure you do.”

Geralt pushed him back in the bed. Leaning over him. “I do.” A hand came up to his head and pushed under the hat. He tensed but Geralt made no move to pull it off. “You’re not a hat person. I don’t mind that your hair’s not perfect cause it’s still soft and smells like you.”

His other hand and down the fabric of his shirt. “I like you in my clothing because it makes you smell like me. Like you’re mine. Even if it’s not what you’d normally wear.”

He hummed. “You want to show me just how much you like it?”

“I do.” He laced his fingers behind Geralt’s neck and tried to pull him down for a kiss. He didn’t move. “Was that really all that was?”

He closed his eyes. “No. But I don’t really want to get into all of it tonight.”

“Okay.” He said. But didn’t move closer.

He sighed. “What do you think it was? What’s worrying you?”

“You’re still angry about the mountain.”

“Hm. I did apparently miss a chance to see a living dragon so.”

“Mhm.”

He grabbed Geralt and rolled him to his side. “Geralt you’re a terrible liar. And if you hadn’t meant what you’d said, at least a little I’d never have believed you.”

“I was trying to break the bond. I thought I forced you into this life Jaskier.”

“Just like you forced Yennefer?”

He flinched.

“If you’d asked I’d have told you. That I was the one that bound you. That I hadn’t meant to do it and didn’t know what I was doing when I did but that I didn’t regret the time I spent with you. But you did. You regretted our time together.”

His gold eyes squeezed closed. He took several steadying breaths. His thumb stroking a strand of hair that had escaped the hat. “Not everything’s about you Jaskier.”

He frowned but resisted the urge to squawk about how it definitely seemed like it was about him.

“I was hurting from Yennefer and scared I had trapped you and terrified for the child of surprise I’d cursed just like you two. And I’m still terrified Jaskier. I don’t know how to be a father.”

“I’m not sure anyone does. I mean how many kids has Vesemir raised? And I’d be real surprised if he thought he knew how to do it proper.”

“Lambert’s good at keeping him humble.”

“That he is. It’s going to be okay. You’re not doing this alone.” He took Geralt’s face in his hands and traced the grain of his stubble. “Besides. I bet Yennefer’s going to roll up and out-parent both of us so hard that I can safely retire to my true calling of fun uncle.”

“Lambert’s teaching her how to make bombs. I think he’s got that position claimed.”

“Ah well I’ll figure out something.”

“Sure you will.” He smirked.

He propped himself up over Geralt, shoving him onto his back. “Alright I really need to kiss that damn look off your face. We good?”

Geralt smiled and pulled him down into a kiss. “We’re good.”

He walked the wall while the others trained in the courtyard. They couldn’t really expect him to work by himself.

They’d asked him if he wanted to join. Or less asked and more told him to when they'd arrived.

He thought he’d sent a fairly clear message when he flipped them the bird become becoming an actual bird and flying away. Spent the afternoon gathering dirt on all of them. Their horses were just so eager to share.

He’d spent a lot of time and energy not learning how to fight and he wasn’t going to change now just because he was living with witchers.

In a big crumbling keep.

It kind of looked like a fortress. A castle. Like something out of a storybook.

They did already have a princess.

How hard would it be to have a dragon?

He fluttered over a broken section of wall.

His keep shouldn’t have broken sections of wall. How was he supposed to keep his hoard safe?

Cause dragons had hoards. And were fiercely protective of them. He assumed.

What would he hoard? Instruments maybe. Admirers. Books.

Laughter roared in the courtyard. He looked down at them. At his family.

His.

Care for. Love. Protect.

He leapt between the stone’s crenellations.

What else made dragons dragons?

Old. Wise. Powerful.

Well there had to young stupid dragons. He could fill that niche. At least he was powerful. He had the sun warming his bones.

Prideful.

They were beautiful.

He wasn’t right now.

But he could be. He could be whatever he wanted.

The edge of the crenellation crumbled under his feet and he began tumbling down the steep walls to the cliffs below.

“What else can he turn into? Can he turn into a shrieker? A unicorn? A dragon?”

He spread his wings and twisted into the sky.

Freedom. It felt like freedom.

He loved to shift.

He loved this form.

He circled his home. His nest. His hoard, gathered in the courtyard as he landed.

“Fucking hell.”

He settled on the steps into the courtyard and tucked his chin over the edge to watch them back.

“That one’s new.” Geralt told them unhelpfully.

Rude. He huffed at Geralt. All hot air. The snow that had collected on his armor and hair melted.

“You’re a dragon!” Ciri marveled as she slowly reached out to touch him. Her small hand roving over the scales of his face. He rumbled his approval.

“Show off.” He smacked Geralt with the tip of his tail without looking away from Ciri.

“You’re so fucking warm!” Lambert was plastered over his flank. “I’m stealing your bard for the rest of the winter.”

“No you’re not.”

“It’s too damn cold in the keep. He’s mine now. Jaskier you’re mine now. I claim dibs.”

He’s got dibs Geralt. Guess I’m his now.

“That is not how this works.”

“It definitely is.” He’s right. It definitely is.

Geralt turned and started to walk away. He hauled him back by the scruff of his shirt.

Eskel leaned against him. “Not that I’ve seen a lot of dragons but-“

Creative liberties.

“Not going to be terribly educational then.” Vesemir sighed pretending not to be leaning into his warmth as much as he was.

I’m very educational. I’ve taught her what a red dragon might look like.

“Ciri this isn’t what red dragons look like.”

“It’s what a red dragon looks like.” He nuzzled her in approval.

It’s what your red dragon looks like. He pointed out.

“I suppose it is.” Lambert and Eskel made retching noises at Geralt. "What our red dragon looks like."

Ours. His chest broke out in a mighty purr. His hoard.

His family.

#shapeshifter au #shapeshifter!Jaskier #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #ciri #minor lambert/eskel/vesemir this chapter #i love those guys #writing

135 notes · View notes

hillbillied · 4 years

Note

I'm about to be a basic bitch and ask for andyeddie for the domestic ship meme please and thank you?! 💜

fuck yeah you can, i want all of these!! and if this means we’re basic then call me bottom-line PH neutral, my dude - this is an andyeddie brain rot zone, you know this and i thank you so much for it!!

DOMESTIC SHIP MEME - AndyEddie

who reaches out to new neighbors

Andy. mr personality over here got it all. smooth voice, soft accent, award-winning smile. some neighbours take a while to even realise the tall, scary-looking guy in the blue pickup lives in the same house.

who remembers to buy healthy food

Andy, sort of. he buys a range but he does love his fresh fruit and veg. Eddie, on the other hand, shops simultaneously like he’s only got $5 and is on death row. not necessarily unhealthy just… bread. pasta. bacon. ready meal shit. bags of snacks. buy in bulk, Andy, it’s cheaper.

who fixes the oven when it breaks

Eddie, more practical knowledge from the machines. Andy would rather just call someone but has accepted just watching. (Eddie wears a dirty vest when he’s fixing it. got it tucked into his jeans with that big ol’ belt he wears and his tattooed arms are out so Andy just sips his drinks like cool, cool, please hurry up or this is going to turn into a bad porno.)

who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s)

Andy waters the plants because he loves his plants. he has a flowerbed when they get a garden but even in an apartment he had flowerpots on the windowsills; he loves gardening. (pet wise, when they get a dog, they both feed it. they share cleaning, though Eddie is more maintenance and Andy more cleaning.)

who wakes up earlier

Eddie. six in the morning, without fail. marine clock, baby, that shit will never die. (not without heavy drinking or an all-nighter anyway.)

who makes the bed

Eddie. because Andy’s shit at it. military-corners Eddie’s fucking ass; Andy’s terrible at keeping things tidy. he’s clean but he’s not neat.

who burns breakfast

Andy. Eddie is a great cook, he does deliciously simple comfort foods and he makes dinner every night. full-on stereotypical house-husband in that regard, because Andy’s the breadwinner of the two in the boring hetero sense. Andy can cook, as in he can follow instructions and not set the kitchen on fire, but he’s the only one who’ll burn anything.

how do they let each other know they’re leaving the house

Andy always kisses Eddie on the forehead. he’ll probably smooch him properly first – or worse, because he’s a a bastard, and will grab his ass before leaving – but he always marks that he’s actually leaving by kissing his forehead. he will go find Eddie specifically to give him his goodbye kiss.

Eddie shouts. hollers he’s going out in the shortest, blunted transfer of information. a grunted “Goin’ work” kind of deal. unless it’s spontaneous, he’ll also give Andy a kiss. it’s always on the lips and its chaste but heavy, pressing hard like he’s trying to remember the sensation. then he’ll get out of bed or grab his keys or go shower or whatever, and leave with a shout to mark him actually opening the door.

how do they greet each other when one of them gets home

Andy’s talkative. he’s “You have a good day?” or “You’ll never guess who turned up this afternoon!”. first one is default if nothing interesting’s happened. he wants to start a conversation, even if he talks and Eddie grunts. he doesn’t get up to greet; he knows Eddie will come find him and either sit down in his lap or come up behind him and wrap two strong arms around his waist. whatever suits, no rules

Eddie wanders out to meet Andy. he’ll come downstairs or walk into the entrance hallway. he’ll always have his arms folded, because he wants Andy to tell him what happened while he was out. (he doesn’t consider himself very interesting, yet he always wants to hear about the most basic shit Andy does.) normally he’ll add a “How was it?” or “Evenin’”. then he’ll wait because Andy usually answers him but not before he’s given him a greeting kiss.

who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often

both. Andy on the chocolates, Eddie on the flowers.

Andy knows the flavours Eddie enjoys and likes popping them into his mouth while Eddie berates him about wasting money. Andy buys things he thinks Eddie likes, but he also buys things Eddie needs and will not buy himself. lighters, jeans, shoes, wallets, picture frames, glasses cases. things that are worn down to the bone and need replacing. but also things like books and records.

Eddie’s a traditionalist, even if his reasoning might be a little tainted by heterosexual bullshit and toxic masculinity. he thinks flowers are beautiful, he knows Andy loves them, even memorised what kind he loves most, but there’s a-whole-nother level of gears in his mind about buying them. eventually he does because he desperately wants the ‘romance he can never have’. it’s a semi-special occasion the first time, like he’s picking Andy up from the station. he brings his bouquet and he looks way more uncomfortable holding it than Andy ever could be receiving it. (Andy, of course, is overwhelmed with joy. he puts them in the front window so everybody can see and he prunes them daily and he changes the water so they last longer and he plays with Eddie’s hair while looking at them and talks about how much he loves them. Eddie starts buying him flowers a fair bit after that.)

their favorite kind of movie to watch

I’ve been doing these for canon-era (1950s) so for that it’s any western movie and specifically The King and I. (they’re a couple of gays who love a good musical.) they don’t enjoy all the war movies, particularly since most of them are about Europe and are just completely surreal.

modern AU: shitty horror movies – they’ve seen every Final Destination and can rate them in order of ‘watchability’ – and 1990s classics like Jurassic Park and Jumanji, they’re simple guys.)

who first suggests a pillow fort

Andy. he secretly wants to give Eddie the childhood he’s certain, by piecing together a lot of clipped information, the man never had. so, he’ll make sure he’s already halfway down with it in the living room when Eddie comes home because then they might as well finish it and sleep there, right?

who builds the pillow fort

Andy starts it, Eddie watches and considers whether he’s going to participate. then Andy smiles at him and asks if he can help tie up a blanket to make one of the walls and yeah, Eddie’s building it too.

who tries to distract the other during the movie

Andrew Fucking Haldane. stupid fucking horny man does not have the attention span for movies. he’s impossible. luckily, he’s polite and will just entertain himself, running his hands up Eddie’s sides and kissing his neck even if Eddie himself wants to know whether Dorothy makes it to the Emerald City or not.

who falls asleep first

Eddie. in the marines, you have a time when you sleep and it is limited. he lays down, shuts his eyes, switches off his problems, and sleeps. dead to the world, he’ll be up at six. Andy doesn’t have trouble falling asleep usually but he can be known to lie awake and think too hard. Eddie’s occasionally found him downstairs reading the newspaper or pacing or sipping tea at the early hours when he’s really stressed. (and hiding it as best he can.)

who is big spoon/little spoon

both. Eddie will happily wrap himself around Andy protectively and just listen to the man talk. he’ll squeeze him tight and breathe deeply so Andy can feel it and simply let him know he’s there, he’ll keep them safe. when Andy’s the big spoon, he’ll kiss the back of Eddie’s neck and whisper in his ear and thread their fingers together. he tells Eddie that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be and how warm he feels and wonder what they’ll get up to tomorrow. they also both like to come up behind each other for a standing-spoon, if you will.

coffee, junkfood, movie night pick ones here

#you and i in Basic Town thank you very much #is andyeddie basic or Gourmet #a-beautiful-struggle-of-life #andyeddie #the pacific

23 notes · View notes

thirstofgames · 4 years

Text

kitty and the jailbird

#️⃣2️⃣

-IT'S A MATCH-

A blank chat popped open and Damien stared at it for a second. He had honestly not expected it. The girl actually swiped him right. He looked at the clock impatiently; he did not have much time left in the library. There was a loud shout from the hallway, his muscles tensing, ready to hide the phone and bolt at any second.

He regretted that last question right as he pushed send. It sounded so bitter in his head now. It was a dating app after all and she was a good looking young woman.

you there?

...

hello?

busy flirting with your other matches, huh?

And there it was all about to end, the hot topic of his whereabouts. And the swift and cruel rejection that followed. It had already happened one too many times! Could he go through his again? Was it worth it? His palms were sweaty, but he never felt so cold. If the ground could just open up and swallow him whole before she finished asking...

No, sorry

Just a little surprised we matched

you can unmatch if you want

Well, what I want is to talk with you 😊

Your profile caught my eye

what part?

Your profile pic at first.

Most guys can't pull off the broken, deep and scowling thing

But... looks good on you.

you don't look so bad yourself-

but then I read your description...

and I have to know something

shoot 🙄

It was a simple Yes/No question, but it took Kate way to long to answer. She bit her lip, thinking hard on the possibilities. It was such an unfair question though. She was not going to leave, but was not going to pursue anything with him until she knew what he was in for and how long he was going to be locked up. She'd wasted enough years waiting up on others...

I'm just a little confused 🤔

Are you really in jail?

you gonna leave if I say yes?

It really depends...

A bittersweet smile spread on his lips. What was he expecting from a girl like her? She probably had a nice job, a supporting family and tons of friends and... an actual future. Why would she even consider wasting her time with him? The little time he had left... Better to just pull off the band aid!

She felt to bad! She hadn't meant to disregard his feelings, but wasn't it fair to let her know what she was getting into? She didn't even know what he was expecting from the conversation they were having... She was curious, but she didn’t want to lead him on.

okay, let's just say...

the orange pants and barbed wire are real

OMG

I have so mane questions 😱

here we go...

What did you do?

Wait, where do you even hide your phone?

STOP!

enough with the interrogation, alright?

I'm just curious...

sure, but i'm more than just a prisoner

a little respect goes a long way

Kate’s heart sank. He was hot, but the prison was a serious issue... She supposed people were not lining up to get to know him. He seemed pretty well rounded and mannered, but he was very defensive about his crime. Did that mean it was something really bad? But he was on a dating app... so maybe he was getting out soon?

You're right!

I'm so sorry 😓

Let's change the subject

Why don't you tell me what you're looking for

hmmm

What?

i'm thinking...

nobody's really asked me that before

Seriously?

most people stop talking to me when they find out i'm locked up

i don't really blame them. i'm rough around the edges.

She didn't say anything for a while and Damien started wondering if he should just close the damn phone and leave. He should also probably take a break from Lovelink after this... it clearly wasn't doing him any good. Dark thoughts swarmed his mind and he had to close his eyes and head his head back against the bookshelf to get rid of the harrowing feeling. Like he was falling in an endless pit...

The screen showed him typing and deleting several responses. Kate pursed her lips, impatient. Had she said anything wrong? She’d never spoken to someone who’d been locked up, she was still unsure what could trigger painful memories, or just remind him that he was... not free. But he said he just wanted to chat and his profile mentioned 'deep conversations'...

Okay, I'm not running away, for now

but...

But I can't really make up my mind

If I don't know anything about you

So...

alright

honestly I'm just looking to talk to someone from the outside

it can get pretty boring in here, just waiting around the clock

Let's be friends then 😊

I'll be your window to the outside world

If that's alright with you...?

Damien sighed on the other end. Beggars can’t be choosers. It was a step in the right direction though. Maybe he was not going to find the love of his life at the very fucking end of said life. He was not living in some fairytale! He was still going to die, alone and forgotten.

But maybe... just a little less alone at the very end of his road. One friend meant more than none and maybe, just maybe... he could tell her his side of the story. Eventually. She seemed patient and understanding enough. Let at least one person out there know he did not murder his own father.

sure

that's more than most

Of course a pretty thing like her got a lot on attention... She was only chatting up with him because the others were offline-

but it must have been pretty bad to be such a long sentence

you still can't tell me what the crime was?

look, i've been making my own rules my whole life

you better ask what crimes I DIDN'T do

wow...

i'm no bragging or anything, just letting you know where I'm at

anyways, I'm more interested in what you're all about

what are you doing on an app like this?

Honestly...

I was about to uninstall it right before we matched 😅

you already found the one?

or no luck at all?

Well, I went on a few nice dates...

i see

Suddenly his experience on the app seemed less awful. Maybe it was not the right place. Or perhaps it was just the place for a misfit like him, here with all the weirdoes and con artists.

And then they ditched me for their exes

Just my luck 😂

Oh and I swear to god if I see one more vampire 🙄 🙄 🙄 🙄 🙄

vampires?

Yeees

You wouldn't believe some of the things I saw...

OMG, one dude was actually dresses up as a centaur

I...

don't even want to ask

There's also the 'prince' scam going around

Dudes claiming to be the heirs of some

Made up countries and asking you for money

It wasn't quite a rejection, but it still hurt a little. She already mentioned twice she was only interested in him as friends. She didn't need to spell it out every few minutes! But she was the only one...

Met some nice people too ☺️

Actually became good friends with some

Which is nice since I just moved here

were did you come from?

Pallay 💜

you're a long way from home

I know 😢

I suppose it was getting kinda lonely

My friends and family come visit when they can

But that's not a lot...

what brought you here?

Got a really good job opportunity

But I didn't quite realize how far away I'd be

So yeah, to answer your question from before...

I'm kinda just chatting with new people

Made more friends than anything else lol

Hope that's aright with you 🤗

A smile crept on his lips. An actual, genuine smile. How long had it been since he had any reason to? God, it felt good to talk to someone! Someone who didn't know him, who didn't shout 'walking corpse' after him, didn't judge him. He almost felt like his old self. Almost.

i'm cool with that

Great!

Looking forward to getting to know you, Damien 😄

so let's get to it

tell me about yourself

hobbies, favorite food, anything

my hobbies are always changing 🤔

I start something new every month or so

Oh, and I started volunteering at a vet lately

🐱🐶💕

With a friend I made on this app

it suits you

Hmmmmm how would you know?

We've only just met

just a hunch

I could secretly be evil 😈

you couldn't hurt a fly

besides, I've seen evil and believe me

you're not it

I'm guessing you're not going to elaborate on that

Are you?

see, you know me so well already

Smartass 😝

At lest until she finds out.

And I love food 🤤

Who doesn't? lol

But picking a favorite is like... impossible

I do have one hell of a sweet tooth 🍫🍬🍦

I'm soooo jealous

I miss making my own meals

That's right! You probably just have a cafeteria.

I'm so sorry 😓

it's cool

i'm glad we have something in common

Is there any food you miss?

Wait... was there even steak in that picture? Kate felt her ears burning, the fluffy pajamas studently itching at her skin.

just makin my own in general, being in charge in the kitchen

Damien scrolled quickly through his phone, the memories leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He nearly didn’t send the photo. It felt like so long ago, a different time...a different person. But it felt so good to remember! To be reminded of the more happier moments when he had all his life ahead of him! And showing her a piece of his past may make her curious enough to stick around for a while longer.

He hit Send.

-Tap to download photo-

Looks... delicious

you like steak?

Oh yeah, the food 😳

Wish I could have a bite of that hahaha

So not so shy and innocent as she claimed. Good to know. Even if it didn’t lead anywhere, which he had to be realistic about - he was on death row after all - it was still fun. The most fun he’d had in a long while. It felt...nice.

HA!

i wish you could too 😏

The door of the library swung open hitting the opposite wall. The guard in charge could be heard arguing with someone. At least four voices. He had to move fast.

I'm really hungry now 😅

good

Kate stared at the screen, the little green light besides his profile picture going grey. She scrolled through the conversation as if to make sure she hadn’t just imagined it. She tapped the picture he’d sent, a small smile creeping on her lips. He looked so... normal. Well, more like smoking hot, but she expected some kind of dump, or some greasy repair shop, not Greek sculpture level abs. The boy should come with a warning! She was a sucker for bad boys, but had she gotten so bad that she was now considering a fucking convict? What if he was a murderer or something??

shit!

???

someone's coming

gotta hide my phone

talk soon

Be careful! 🙏🏻

Her ice cream, forgotten on the coffee table, had turned to soup.

What had she gotten herself into?

#lovelink #damien jones #kitty and the jailbird #austin russo #counterpart

17 notes · View notes

moondustaeil · 5 years

Text

interlude _ lee taeyong

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ⋅ interlude, regular to irregular ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ about

⋅ genre : mafia x soulmate au. angst, fluff, like two lines of smut

⋅ characters : taeyong x reader, nct, guest appearances of superm and exo

⋅ word count : 24k

⋅ warning : mafia au, violence, swearing, like a few lines of smut if you ask me, slight psychological abuse

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ summary { pt 1 }

⋅ “That was your last step, darling” Those were the words that replaced the alarm for the counter that had stopped ticking. From then on, life was like a dream in a nightmare. And there’s no button to reverse.

That was your last step, darling.

Your unmanipulated dream haunted you for the second time in a row. The cold gun pressed against your forehead while a pair of intense eyes were connecting to yours as if you hadn’t been connected by the soulmate timers yet. He could see the fear in them and felt like a vampire feeding himself off of blood, but instead, he gained his strength by watching your fear-filled eyes. Your dream was no different from the reality, aside from little details such as his eyes or the noises adding with each time you dreamed about the scenario. Aside from your own feelings being reflected, it was also as if your second point of view came through Taeyong’s eyes, a fearful experience when your own death was one of the thoughts occurring in his mind.

“tik tok.”

You would have let out a sarcastic laugh if you weren’t in front of Taeyong right now, fear was making you stand still in fear but your face changed to a frown upon hearing the unhumorously funny words. Your eyes were quick enough to glance at Taeyong’s lips, but they hadn’t moved, and in fact, his body hadn’t moved in the past seconds. Like a glitch in a video, where you were the only one able to move while Taeyong was set on a halt because of an error in his malfunctioning brain. Once knowing he couldn’t move, you turned your head to the right to detect where the voice came from but you were greeted by the undecorated right side of the hideout that you were brought to. Maybe this was even scarier than when Taeyong was able to move and shoot you through the head.

“baby, you gotta wakey”

Those words made you open your eyes faster than you had expected, a small mutter falling from your lips in the process. You were about to think you were awoken by the voice in your mind, though one glance away from the high ceiling made you realize that you weren’t the only one in the room: a tall figure stood hovering over the bed, his lips graced with a slight smile when he saw your eyes open. “Good morning,” he said, the combination of his cheerful voice together with the smile on his lips made you doubt if the past two days had been real. You arched your back slightly before trying to move upward in an attempt to sit up, but before you had even attempted it, you were tugged back against the cold frame of the bed. “You shouldn’t try that, you’ll only hurt yourself,” The man said as he lowered his height by sitting on the edge of the bed, a creaking sound leaving from under the bed by the sudden extra weight put upon it.

“I’m Johnny,” He said to you, almost reaching out his hand until his brain cell kicked him to say it wasn’t possible since you were wearing the handcuffs to keep you attached to the bed. You barely heard the introduction because of the noises that seemed to be going on in the level above, yet, you still realized he had said his name. “Are you a part of them?” you asked, speaking without thinking about the consequences it could have. It wouldn’t be the first time you found yourself in the darkness because of the words you said. His response was to let out a laugh at first, nodding his head afterward to confirm your words. “I am, it’s a shame that you don’t know me but it must be because you’re Taeyong’s little toy and not mine,” he said, his thinking face disappearing when he mentioned Taeyong.

The name alone brought you to fragments of not too long ago, when almost every day you would hear his name on the radio or when you would see his face on tv. “He might be mad, but he’s a softie. The hair dye just got to his head” Johnny said, snapping you from your train of memories about seeing Taeyong on television but instead you stepped onto the next train that took you back to when your eyes crossed his in the intense reveal of who your soulmate was. The transition of hair colors throughout the times you saw him on tv also crossed your mind thanks to Johnny, although that was probably the thing you had to worry about the less. “You joined the mafia too, you must be crazy too. Don’t act as if doing this shit is normal!” you protested to Johnny, rolling your eyes at how the young man talked about everything. But once again, Johnny could only laugh at your stupidity or cuteness. “You might as well think about the difference between mad and crazy. Or well, you’ll find out the definitions soon enough.” He said as he stood up from the bed again.

“You might be either of the two soon,” Johnny said, tugging his lip between his teeth as he was excited to see you transitioning into someone you were not. Your eyes glanced up at him when you heard footsteps getting further away from you, which you now also couldn’t see because you were bound to be handcuffed to the bed. “But for now, you’re just a no one but a number to Taeyong.” He said, changing his attitude to make you confused about his identity.

The sound of his footsteps disappeared like a song fading out in the background, instead, you could hear the door closing and being locked multiple times. Then, it became completely quiet.

Your short fingernails began to press into the skin on the palm of your hand, creating small moon shapes. Though they no longer would resemble the moon like they did in your childhood, instead it was a mental counter to know for how many days you had been stuck inside the basement. Five small moon shapes seemed to smile at you, but you had no will to smile back at them. Day five had started, but would there ever be an ending day or was it a never-ending span of lifeless days that you were living through?

“I miss you” you whispered to no one in particular, your voice week as you had been undergoing a silent protest in the few couple of days. You missed everyone: from your friends to your parents and all the way to Johnny who had managed to make your day a tad better by saying a couple of sentences to you on day two. Last time you had used your voice it was towards another member of their mafia: one that had a smile that could cure bad days if he wasn’t the one that made the day so bad. You still remembered how he had told you his name was Jaemin, which proceeded in him repeating ‘nana’ in a sing-song voice for what seemed like hours. Only when tears of annoyance and weakness were in your eyes, the young boy had left you with a satisfied smirk lingering on his lips.

Your words were left in the air until they lingered away without anyone hearing them or saying them back to you. It was a way to break the silence that was your savior but at the same time fucked with your mind more than once a day. Your senses had seemed to rely on hearing rather than seeing in the past days, sometimes a good way to tell what time it was and when someone would give you the meal that you sometimes refused to eat as it just wasn’t edible. Maybe you longed for someone to bring those meals to you because despite you not eating them, it was the only source of contact and the only glimpse of the staircase that one day hopefully would be your escape.

‘It should be evening now’ you thought to yourself as you once again relied on the silence around you. Even on the level above yours, you didn’t hear the footsteps that you would normally hear, you felt as if you hadn’t heard them in hours today. The last time you did, it was when you could also hear a gunshot, and afterward some overdramatic laughter from one of the men that you had heard the laugh of before. Evening wasn’t specific enough for you to really tell whether it was closer to afternoon or night, but you guessed it was close to the night since you felt the tiredness of your body slowly taking over.

You closed your eyes after gazing upon the palm of your hand where the moonish shape of your nails had been in before. Day five hopefully was coming to an end, but that hope wasn’t needed as after day five, there was still a day six to live. Your fingers curled up into a fist to keep themselves warm, trying to avoid the cold metal of the bed’s frame and the handcuffs that still kept you in your place. Thoughts halted in your mind when sleep pushed its opinion through to make you do as told.

voices

Dizziness stirred your tired mind as your eyes opened, you didn’t know if it was because you thought you heard voices or because you had opened your eyes faster than they could adjust to your state. The handcuffs rang like a dysfunctioning bell against the frame of the bed, leaving you to forget about the sounds outside of your room for a second. When you finally focused back, you noticed the door was open and you could see the empty staircase but no ending point of it. “You’re awake,” a voice said, surprising you even though you should have been smart enough to realize that someone was in your room when the door was open like that. You still weren’t completely used to being here.

Your eyes saw the person that you had never seen before, glancing at him in confusion even though he probably was a part of the mafia just like everyone else here was. The only difference was that youth overwhelmed his appearance, compared to others you met such at Johnny at least. The promise to stay in silent protest was kept when you didn’t answer to the words, even though you wished he would build a conversation with you and stay for a few minutes. Only having the voice in your mind, or better said, yourself to keep a conversation with, wasn’t enough to keep you sane for as long as possible.

“I’m Jisung.” The boy said as he slowly stepped inside the room further, by the sound of his footsteps it seemed as if he was hesitant and maybe somewhat afraid to come too close to you. “Yangyang is coming soon. He’s kinda new, but he wanted to see you because Chenle told him that you were Taeyong’s soulmate…aren’t you cold?” the boy rambled endlessly until he realized there was no response coming from your lips. Instead of complaining about you not speaking, he shot you a slightly awkward smile. “Aren’t you supposed to speak to anyone but our leader?” he asked even though he knew in the back of his mind that he wouldn’t be able to get an answer to that question either.

The awkwardness luckily didn’t last as long as he had expected it to be, smiling when he heard Yangyang coming down the stairs. “I’m here” the other male announced as he walked in a lot more casual than Jisung had done earlier, maybe it was the small age gap that made Yangyang less hesitant or maybe it was just his personality. Immediately Yangyang walked towards the bed you were handcuffed to, glancing at you through his own tired eyes. “Are you y/n?” he asked to which Jisung looked up at his older friend, trying to say without words that you wouldn’t be a waterfall of words. “Oh, I see. You don’t speak, because Taeyong the cat has gotten your tongue. That’s cute! You’re so whipped” Yangyang said, laughing at his own fantasy as none of those things were actually true.

“Just say one word for us, ask us about Taeyong! I know you’re curious” Yangyang insisted seconds after he had read his own mental fantasy book out loud. The boy loved knowing things, and rather than that loved risky things: that taking risks and seeing other taking risks. “I’ll give you three questions, like a genie. Genie, genius equals me” He said as he pushed Jisung aside, sitting on your bed as if he wanted to have a close-talk like best friends would have in times of need. You let out a soft sigh as you were mentally struggling with the opportunity he gave you: one that could break the mental promise you had made to yourself, but also one that could bring you closer to things that you hadn’t discovered yet. Right when Jisung wanted to protest to Yangyang for forcing you to speak, you opened your mouth. Then, “okay” left your lips, almost inaudible as if it wouldn’t count as breaking your promise when you spoke like that.

Yangyang excitedly brought his hands together, clapping one time before all of his attention was on you again. “Ask the genius,” He said with a proud smirk, gesturing to himself even if he reminded you more of an annoying orange than a genie or genius as he claimed to be. You thought about the three questions you would ask, though you didn’t want to put closure on the subject of your soulmate only. “How long has it been since I came here and what time is it?” You asked first, even though you were pretty confident about both of those things, you had to know if you could trust your own mind with information like that. The orange-haired boy hummed as he looked down at you “do you want me to take that as two questions or one?” he asked you instead of replying to the things you asked, raising his index finger before also letting his middle finger join. “just one, please.” you said, hoping being friendly would get you somewhere as your parents always said it could bring you far in life. “It’s two in the morning, and you’re on your sixth day. Congratulations on making it this far!”

Another clap came from his hands, but this time to congratulate you on still being alive at this point. An achievement you would rather not get a clap for because sometimes you had even wished you hadn’t been on this earth, to begin with. You were living this life, destined to be together with a mafia member and you bet that was even worse than being the soulmate of a serial killer. For a newcomer as Jisung said he was, Yangyang was pretty challenging towards others and you doubted if he actually had enough brain cells to take up a big role in the mafia. He probably was young like Jisung was, but more rebellious. “Next question please, it’s not because you got a free ticket that you can waste my time,” he said, sounding a little bit too excited about feeling in charge over what he was doing. Your eyes went to Jisung who seemed to be listening but had his head hung low for an unknown reason, which left you to wonder if this was the first time he was actually doing something like this. “Why are you two here at two in the morning?” you asked even though you hadn’t meant that one as the one you wanted to get answered by the fake genie in front of you. But you weren’t going to get lucky, you didn’t need a genie to tell you that. “Good second question” Yangyang snickered before he turned more serious all of a sudden. “We aren’t supposed to be here, so after this, pretend as if I never was here. Continue the life you have now…even though it’s non-existent. Especially don’t tell Taeyong! If you do, then you’ll carry some heavy consequences” he said, his eyes getting intense which made it obvious that the two young men were breaking the rules by being here. But it didn’t seem to be stopping them from doing so, something you already expected since they were a part of the mafia.

“Up to question three, ja-ja-ja-jackpot!” Yangyang said a little too loud, tilting his head as he looked at you questioningly. The loud voice startled you but you knew you shouldn’t try to show your fear, that was what they lived off of or at least that’s what you saw when you dreamed about the first meeting between you and your soulmate. “When will I see Taeyong?” you decided to ask when you couldn’t find a better third question, and only upon you pronouncing his name, Jisung shot up his head to look at you. “Oh my little prize, Taeyong isn’t here now. I know your little heart longs for him. But he will return tomorrow from America. And just to spill the tea even more: he, Mark, Ten and Lucas are in another little mafia crew together with other mafia members. Call it the avengers of mafia, it’s a concept” Yangyang said, not stepping back from spilling secrets he wasn’t supposed to hand out like they were leaflets. He had expected you to ask about freedom or seeing your loved once again, but maybe this question was even better than the one he had imagined you to ask. You nodded unknowingly as you listened, trying to save all little details of the conversation you had in your tired mind. You knew you had to keep it for yourself, not because of what Yangyang said but you didn’t want them to know you knew secrets that others weren’t informed about yet. “But now, genie goes back into the bottle. bye-bye,” he said cheerfully as he got up from the bed. He gave you one last look, waving at you happily before he pulled Jisung with his hand and dragged the younger male out of the room with him.

“You should wear this!” Jungwoo chirped happily as he threw the white outfit onto the bed, on top of your body as if it was easy for you to sink into them without moving your limbs or body in general. You could hear and see the excitement radiating from the tall blonde-haired boy, but he seemed to forget a couple of details due to that same excitement. “I can’t,” you said, sounding more apologetic because the boy was just too excited to disappoint. A puppy-like pout appeared on his lips “ah why~” he whined softly as he grabbed the pieces of clothing in his hand, observing them to see if they were stained. “I picked them out for you! Not my style but Taeyong wanted white so I listened!” he said, trying to convince you without knowing that the problem was that you were handcuffed to the bed. It was already a miracle that you were able to sit up, but being out of your handcuffs wasn’t the case clearly. “Because I’m handcuffed,” you said, trying to say it calmly even though Jungwoo was the kind of boy you wanted to hug for doing the effort and for being so sweet without limits.

Jungwoo’s lips turned into an oh shape as he finally realized the one thing he forgot. His hands slipped into the back pocket of his pants, rummaging through until his fingers were able to grip the key. “Sorry y/n, I forgot,” he said as he thought about the other things he was supposed to do in the upcoming hour. This was just an exciting thing for him, which was why he forgot small details: it was the most fun mission he ever had to do and he couldn’t wait to see the results. “You will see your soulmate today,” he said as he hovered over you, his tall frame leaning down until he could reach the lock of the handcuffs properly. The words made you understand why he had brought an entire outfit and a beauty kit to the basement, maybe he had gotten the task to make sure you appeared like a real beauty in front of Taeyong. “Taeyong?” you asked just to be sure, usually everyone referred to him as leader or Taeyong, but Jungwoo put the emphasis on the rumored man to be your soulmate. A hum left Jungwoo’s lips he freed you from the metal chains that kept you together, grasping your wrists lightly to check if you didn’t have any marks on them from wearing them too long. “He’s your soulmate right?” Jungwoo asked, to which you nodded your head even if you hated to admit that he indeed was your soulmate.

“First I will let you take a shower, after you get dressed and I can make you pretty….but you’re pretty already,” Jungwoo said, listing all of the things that he had to do more for himself than for you. He helped you up, making sure to link his arm through yours in case your legs had gotten weak from not being able to use them properly for a long time. Trips to the bathroom didn’t take longer than needed, and the walking towards them was often replaced by carrying if they thought you went too slow. For some reason, Jungwoo seemed to trust you more than others, as others would just take you away with handcuffs around your wrist while Jungwoo only linked your arms together like cliché girls would do in a movie. The two of you left the basement that these days became your home, going up the stairs and afterward taking another stairs to the upstairs level of the place.

Jungwoo helped you into the bathroom with a smile, showing you around by just showing you what was shampoo, what shower gel was and how the warm water of the shower worked. Despite you knowing well how skincare and bathrooms worked, you let Jungwoo be his cheerful and talkative self because you did enjoy it. “I’ll come back in 15 minutes” he said before he left you alone in the bathroom, standing at the door so that he could hear what you were doing at any given time.

Fifteen minutes later, you had been ready to go back down to the basement as weird as it sounded or even felt. Being able to shower had been like feeling a glimpse of freedom, and wearing new clothes was like you were a butterfly who had just gotten its wings. Jungwoo opened the door when you knocked upon it as a sign that you were ready, smiling when he saw you in the outfit. “It’s time to make you prettier than you already are!” he said as he made you sit down on the chair where you had put your clothes on earlier. The beauty kit that he took, was placed on your lap so that he could use both hands for doing the job of makeup artist and hairdresser. “I won’t do much makeup, but I want to brush your hair” he said as he already placed his hand upon the towel-dry hair, just to feel the texture and imagine how beautiful it would look once he was ready with it.

He took the hairbrush in his hand as he smiled, carefully starting to brush through your washed hair. He avoided hurting you whenever knots started to form from drying it with the towel not long ago. “Does it hurt?” he asked occasionally whenever he had the feeling that he was making you suffer, but each time you hummed as a sign that he could continue. Being cared for by Jungwoo felt like going to your best friend after a bad and long day, while being cared for by the others was a push and pull game of getting what they wanted and you not giving it to them. “I’m excited for you, Taeyong will really say you look beautiful,” he said as he was imagining two soulmates in love coming together.

Another half-hour later you were ready and in the main room, the room where you hadn’t been since the day you saw Taeyong for the first time. “Jungwoo!” you heard a voice fill the room, pushing out the silence that was there before. Jungwoo shot a confused look at the older man in front of him. “Yes Doyoung?” he asked, seeming more obedient than you had ever been in the past couple of days. “You forgot shoes!” Doyoung claimed as he looked down at your bare feet placed upon the cold flooring. Something that made you do the same as you hadn’t even realized that your feet were bare unlike the rest of your body. “Ah…I’m a potato” the cutie mumbled to himself, but knew there was no way to get to shoes for you at this moment, simply because he hadn’t bought them for you, so there was no solution for the problem. “Get her socks then” Doyoung said as he didn’t need Jungwoo to tell him that he didn’t buy shoes, he already knew that.

“Taeyong arrived!”

It was the voice of Renjun who shouted the words, in his hands the bottle of red wine he had prepared for Taeyong to drink later on. A small swear word left Doyoung’s words as he knew it now was too late to get socks for you, something he would get the blame for even if it was Jungwoo who was the owner of the exact task. “You should stand here” Renjun said, shoving the bottle into Jungwoo’s hands so that he could grasp your hands in his right now.

As Renjun led you over to a spot, your eyes fell to the birthmark he had on his hand. Something you hadn’t seen before and never heard it mentioned somewhere else, despite it possibly being a big clue to revealing his identity to the world. “Here” Renjun said as he made you move just a tiny bit more, then stood in front of you to consider if that was the spot. He hummed in approval when he saw how he positioned you like you were a doll. You stood still to wait for it all to happen: a weird feeling of angst spreading through your stomach, but you put the blame on having to see your unwanted soulmate for the second time in your life.

The sound of the car you heard seconds ago came to an abrupt halt, everything turned fearfully quiet as seconds on the invisible clock went slower than minutes did. All of a sudden the door was thrown open wide, a familiar body structure appearing in the doorway. But you didn’t dare to look up yet, your eyes only staring at the floor that had gotten warmer under your feet.

The footsteps came closer slowly, they sounded challenging you like you were getting teasers until you were finally able to fully see him again, the only problem was that you were too scared to face him. The other members who seemed to be there before suddenly seemed gone, or maybe they fell silent just like you did out of shock. You mentally gathered the courage to finally look up at Taeyong: first scanning the hair color that jumped into your sight before anything else did, then only your eyes lowered to meet his. The intense eyes you had been having nightmares of every single night that you spent in that bed, the intense eyes your hidden feelings sometimes longed for anyway. The eye contact was intense, his pupils never changing its size which made him even more intimidating.

Taeyong’s steps slowly came to an ending, only taking a few more before he stood in his position. It was only then when you realized why Renjun had put you in that spot without imperfections. You and Taeyong standing there like you did the first time your eyes met, the time a gun was pointed at your head to shoot when the wrong movement was made. That thought sent goosebumps to rise upon your skin, even underneath the fabric of the virgin white clothes. What scared you, brought life to Taeyong.

He had waited long days until this moment, had counted the days and sometimes even the hours until he could see you again, until he could see the fear in your eyes again. The soulmate he could form into the perfect lover, someone who could be just like him but still stay underneath the leading role he took up. Through the days that he had been in contact with the other members, he found out about your protest of silence unless it was Jungwoo, he had found out that you would be wearing innocent white when he would lay eyes on you for the second time. Each day Taeyong had started to long more and more for you, so much that he nearly wished his timer would start running again so that he could relive the moment to the fullest. And this was as close as it was going to get to the actual moment.

“That was my last step, darling”

Taeyong’s voice was loud and clear, yet, they made you feel as if your head was getting hit with a hammer. The most Harley Quinn mooded scenario that you could get at this moment. Your eyes slowly left his eyes when he said those words, instead, focusing themselves on the grin he had plastered on his lips. By the looks of it, he was enjoying the moment. The fear in your eyes brought life to his eyes, something you managed to miss even though he hadn’t wanted you to see that side of him on the second time you met. You swallowed once, trying to do your best to keep a strong image but never would you be able to appear as strong as him.

Your silence was broken when he took another step towards you, close enough for you to have a whiff of the perfume he sprayed onto his nightblue shirt. He leaned closer to you, breaking every barrier of having private space around you. Another shiver ran down your body when you felt his breath against your neck, his lips brushing over the warmed-up spot. “There is my little cherry lollipop” he said against your skin, letting his teeth touch your skin lightly before withdrawing from the unexpected intimacy. One step backward was all it took for him to be able to look at all of you: from the outfit you were wearing to the way your body looked in it and then back towards your unkissed lips. He couldn’t wait to have a taste of those lips, but not here, not when many eyes had witnessed the moment he just created. Taeyong was known to love showing off, being unbothered to take it to the next level when everyone had their eyes on him…but you were different. Dressed in angelic white to accentuate your innocence, and to underscore that his name was your brand.

“Would you like a glass of wine, Taeyong?” Renjun asked as he realized he had forgotten to pour a glass of wine, he wouldn’t have forgotten if it wasn’t for the stupidity of two members that were older than him. It was a risky question, as just one second after asking, Renjun already noticed his mistake in just asking it. Taeyong turned away from you and towards Renjun, giving the seventh youngest a glare before all of his attention was on you again. But leaving the question unanswered was an opportunity he wouldn’t let slip past him. “As much as I’d like to stain my angel’s white clothes, it’s not with red wine, Renjun” he spoke, his tone having the matter-of-fact dimension. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Renjun giving him a small nod of understanding.

Taeyong’s eyes solitary went to you again, his hand reaching out to stroke over your heated cheek. Heated from stress rather than the kind of heat it would have whenever you fell in love. “you look like an angel, but are you one?” he asked, his fingertip roaming over the skin as if he was judging every little blemish upon it. The question he asked was one you didn’t answer, but instead, you listened obediently. “Answer me, my cherry lollipop ~” his voice was more demanding. The tip of his thumb stroking over your upper lip, smirking when he traced the cupid’s bow in the middle.

A sigh left your lips before you could control it, the sigh filled with nerves warming his thumb but it didn’t make him pull away from you. This time your silence was not a silent protest, it was just a fear of saying the wrong things and possibly ending up with your body being deep down the ground where no one would ever look for you. Your soulmate’s patience got tested with each time you didn’t reply, and if there was one thing that Taeyong hated it was when things didn’t go as he wished. The perks of being a perfectionist, who also wished for his soulmate to be perfect. “Are you an angel?!” He asked as the demanding tone had now completely undergone a transformation to anger, and by the fear in your eyes, he could see that it was giving the desired effect.

“I can be if you want me to”

“I think it is time to move,” Taeyong said as he glanced at the other members that had gathered around him in a circle. He knew that you could hear him talking and yet he had no intention of allowing you in the circle. Being part of the mafia was a men’s job in his eyes, and he wanted his soulmate to stay out of that chaotic kind of business. It went from quiet to noisy, with all members whispering and mumbling things to each other as if their leader wasn’t in the middle. But Taeyong was sharp enough to hear almost everything they were saying to each other. “Enough!” he said in a demanding tone, overpowering the twenty other voices. It should have been quiet after his little lash but he could still hear Haechan whining to Mark about it. “Which little bird can’t shut up?” Taeyong asked, his eyes looking around as if he was trying to find the one who hadn’t stopped making noises, but then finally, his eyes landed on Haechan.

Your eyes were on the younger boy, already wishing that he wouldn’t get a bad treatment just because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. But the look in Taeyong’s eyes made it clear that he wasn’t pleased with the endless whines and talks of the boy. “We are the mafia, not a coffee shop,” he said, stepping closer to Haechan until the younger man had no other option but to look in his eyes as he was speaking. “If you really want to speak, say your last words” Taeyong finished his sentence, stepping away after his eyes intimidated Haechan for a few more seconds. By the manner Haechan fumbled his fingers together in his sleeve, you could see that he was filled with fear for those words to be real.

“As I was saying…” Taeyong started his sentence again after the little moment of inconvenience, his feet slowly taking steps until he was back at the spot where his leader capacities allowed him to stand. “I think it is time to move away from our hideout,” he said as a slight smile appeared on his lips when he said those words. You had heard from Doyoung that aside from being a strangely intimidating leader, he could also be soft and caring once you got to know him. And the strong act he was keeping up, usually was because he was responsible for twenty other members and you as well. That same strong act was one he showed because you were there as well: wanting to intimidate you so that you wouldn’t get yourself in the wrong hands of rival mafias or just so that he could show that he was more than just somebody on this earth. You heard a laugh escaping from Mark’s lips who clapped his hands in excitement, he really wanted to have a proper bedroom rather than one where all he got was a mattress. “Wow” you heard someone say, but your eyes were too late to see who’s lips had produced that sound. “And our y/n, is coming too” Taeyong said as he beckoned for you to be part of the circle now.

Your steps were slow as you moved towards the circle, seeing Kun making a bit of space next to him so that you could stand there. It was a scary feeling with so many pairs of eyes on you, and maybe a bit embarrassing because of the handcuffs that kept your hands from grabbing a gun or doing other risky things. You stood still beside Kun, who smiled down at you to make you feel a little bit more comfortable. Instead, Taeyong decided against it and wrapped his fingers around the little chain that connected your handcuffs, dragging you closer to where he was without leaving you to decide for yourself. “y/n is coming with us. y/n will no longer be staying in a basement. And just like some of you have many clothes, I request of Johnny and Yuta that they will pick up y/n’s clothes from the old apartment.” Taeyong spoke as he looked at the two he assigned the job to, once they had nodded, Taeyong allowed his eyes to rest on the sight of you. “Anything else you need from your old apartment?” he asked, his tone sweeter than you’d ever heard him. The kind of tone that made you think you could ask for anything, or open up to him about the questions that you still had. “Can I have my phone? And maybe some pictures of my family and friends?” you asked as you looked at him questioningly.

From the corner of your eye, you could see the look Kun had in his eyes. Realizing a little bit too late that you probably would get a negative answer to that question, but maybe also a lash out that counted for free bonus points. Taeyong cleared his throat as he was staring at you, his facial expression never changing even if he maybe was surprised at your request. Everyone was uneasily quiet as they waited for Taeyong to respond to your question. “You can have your pictures, but I can’t give you your phone. It’s too much of a risk, it could maybe save you but instead kill all twenty-one of us” Taeyong explained calmly, reminding himself that your question was only natural because you longed to hear your family. On the other side of the story, it was dangerous: they could track your location and it would lead others to them, and then they would be in big trouble that possibly had no solution to it. “One day, I will get you a phone that you can use but not now, little cherry lollipop,” he concluded when he saw the slight disappointment on your face. He imagined it could be hard for you to be away from your loved ones, but in reality, all of them had to be away from loved ones and only had each other to survive with. They were not a charity case that brought families together, and if he couldn’t see his family then no one could. NCT was more than just a mafia, overtime they became a family: with motherly figures, moments of laughter and friendship, with younger members to care for.

Taeyong slightly patted a hand over your shoulder to make you feel comforted, his hand waving in motion as a signal that the small meeting had ended. “It’s gonna be fine, my cherry lollipop will forget about everyone once she sees the good in being here.” Even though the small meeting had ended, he still had to talk to Johnny and Yuta about a plan of how to get in your house when no one could possibly be there to look for you, but also tell them about your phone that he never wanted to be found again by anyone. A tear burned in your eye but you refused to let it slip out as you didn’t want to be seen crying because you knew you would never see your family again. Thoughts ran into your mind at rapid speed, it made you lose track of reality so you hadn’t noticed yet how Taeyong was already away from you to talk to others. It was Kun who was still by your side when the others left to do their job, not that Kun didn’t have other things to do, but just like Taeyong, he took up a small leading and motherly role over the members.

“y/n?” Kun asked as he placed his hand on your shoulder, the same shoulder that Taeyong had patted earlier in a weak attempt to make your sadness less harsh on you. You slowly turned your head to Kun, letting out a soft sigh in the process. “I can’t even see my friends again?” you asked him, wondering if that was really how it went in the life of a mafia member. The thought of that already brought another tear to your eye: you had never imagined that was the way you’d be separated from your best friend. Kun shook his head sadly at your words, the hand that was on your shoulder turned into an arm around you to comfort you a little bit more. “Everything is behind you now: friends, family, your job, your home,” he said, speaking in a calm tone so that comforting you could combine with telling you the truth, no matter how ugly the truth could be sometimes.

It didn’t surprise you to hear the words and still it brought some fear along, the thought of never being able to walk outside again to love your friends and family. Never going to the store late at night because you were too busy with your life and forgot to get food for yourself. No more nagging from friends who told you it was time to look for your soulmate. All of that, you had to leave behind for one single person. Taeyong. You didn’t know if it was normal to feel sick whenever you even heard the name, but the feeling became worse now that you knew only half of the conditions you had to keep your life to. The handful of rules would soon be overwhelming, but it was following them or giving your life. Or at least, that was what you heard from one of Yangyang’s nightly visits to the basement. “Maybe you could ask Taeyong to join us? Doing small missions, killing people” Kun said, his words a little bit too casual as killing people was something you hadn’t written down in your bucket list. The shock displayed in your eyes made Kun mentally slap himself against the head for saying such a thing. “We’re not like you think we are, we don’t kill people for fun and we have to work hard” he protected himself and the connection that you still had to form with your soulmate.

You had to admit your head was filled to the brim most of the day. Probably because there were twenty people declaring opinions onto you and you didn’t know anymore which ones to believe. For example about Taeyong: some said he actually was soft and caring, but because of his role he couldn’t always show it, while others said Taeyong could be a scary person who had two personalities and you’d just have to watch to see which one you were going to get. They knew Taeyong longer than you did, they saw him more often than you did so you believed a little bit of everything and hoped to find out for yourself that he indeed had a softer side as well. In conclusion, each member ended with the same set of words. ‘Don’t worry about it’

“You’ll get used to it, especially when we move. And you can finally live in a proper room” Kun said, trying to make things lighter for what seemed like the millionth time in a couple of minutes. You knew Kun and his leading abilities were much different than Taeyong’s, but Kun seemed more of like a sub-leader who took care of what others called NCT China but in reality was called WayV. “Where will you live?” you asked when you realized their group was divided into other groups so that they could endlessly grow unless they were a fixed unit. You wondered if they all lived together 365 days a year and twenty-four hours for seven days a week. Kun hummed at the question as he looked at you “we kind of live everywhere. Sometimes you will see us in the new house, other times we will be in China. Depends on the things we have to do and our own safety as well” he explained to you, just telling the truth since you already knew so much so even if he lied, once you spilled tea, you were going to have to get killed by one of them. “Will I live in China too then?” you asked as you really were trying to get the hang of it. After learning how the NCT concept was formed yesterday, you today had other questions that you wanted an answer to. A sigh of relief left your lips when Kun shook his head. “You won’t live there. You are located here with 127 but I don’t think Taeyong will leave you home alone, so for some missions, you will travel along. I think, at least” he said to you, hopefully answering the question right as he didn’t want to appear like the one that set you on an abandoned road with incorrect information.

“Thanks for talking to me,” You said to Kun and smiled a bit, it eased your mind a bit more now that you two had talked and the way his voice sounded was just a calming factor to you. Kun returned your smile, knowing deep inside that even though things were rough now, soon everything would fall into its rightful place. “It’s okay, y/n” he said as he ruffled a hand through your hair in a more playful way. He stepped away from you to do whatever task followed for him, but before leaving you in the room, he turned back with a smile.

“just remember, we are your family”

Those words reflected in your mind for another hour as you watched how others gathered their stuff to move, while you could only stand in the middle of the room and watch how the nearly empty hideout, turned completely empty. They seemed to be busy collecting everything or getting rid of evidence that they had been there. Whenever one of the members passed you by, they’d give you a smile or a hey sometimes, simply because there was no time for longer talks than that. Just as you were about to say hi to Chenle who passed by, Hendery stood right in front of you. “I’m going to bring you to Taeyong,” he said as he handled you the same way Taeyong did earlier, though he was much more careful when he led you forward by holding onto the chain between your handcuffs. You had no option but to walk behind him like a child who had no idea how to get to the park on its own. “Why?” you asked as you were walking, your eyes scanning the empty walls around you as you found yourself in something that looked like the hallway. “Because he wants to speak to you, he’s your soulmate,” Hendery said as he removed his hand from the chain when you finally stood in front of the door that separated you from Taeyong.

Before Hendery could attempt to know upon it, the door already opened with Taeyong standing right in front of you only a second later. “Thank you, Hendery,” Taeyong said, giving a nod as a sign Hendery had done his task well but also so that the young man would leave you alone now. Taeyong looked into your eyes, in the meantime wanting to take the chain to pull you inside the small room with him, but instead, unintentionally wrapped his fist around your hand. Unlike the time you felt shivers when he touched you, you now felt the warmth spreading through your body and mostly warming up the wrist which not too long ago revealed how many steps there were to take until you met him. He turned back to lead you along with him, a smile gracing his lips when he felt that flattering feeling overtaking some of his other emotions.

“y/n” Taeyong breathed out your name as he turned back towards you once you were in the middle of the room, the smile was no longer on his face but you couldn’t miss what you had never seen. His hand still held onto yours, unable to distance himself from an unfamiliar feeling spreading inside of his body. You hummed in response, your eyes searching for his but this time it was him who avoided looking back into yours. “I want you to be my date. There will be an official event coming up to introduce superm to our co-mafia groups. Much like a formal ball, without the dancing.” He said, getting to the point so that he didn’t have to show too many feelings while he told you. He felt nervous that you’d reject going with him even though he would force you to come with him somehow. “You want me to be your date?” you asked, tilting your head to the side as you were surprised he even wanted a date or a plus-one. He seemed like the type to go alone, simply so that he didn’t have to take care of someone else. “I do, you’re my soulmate,” he said honestly and nodded his head, he could have lied and said others were looking forward to meeting you but then he would spoil how he already told co-mafia groups about you which probably seemed a bit too desperate than he would like. “Tomorrow, one of the members will help you pick out an outfit. Then that same evening, the ball will take place. When returning, we could already go to our new home” He said quickly, ruining the chance of having a sweet moment between you and him even though he had wished he would have grabbed the opportunity.

Taeyong looked at you as he waited for your response, hoping you would be just as excited as he was for the ball or for just being together like real soulmates were supposed to do. “I’d like that” you chimed out while a smile was on your lips, maybe it was because he had directly said that he wanted you to be with him because you were his soulmate or maybe it was because you felt warm on the inside when your hand was holding onto yours like that. A smile appeared on his lips when you smiled as well, it was the first genuine moment you had seemed to spend with him and you weren’t sure if it was because no one was around or because of another reason. “Good” he said as he gave your hand a small but reassuring squeeze.

“Who do you want to come along with you to pick your outfit?” Taeyong asked before once again he would get too much into the moment where he felt as if he could fall in love. He watched the way your face changed as you were considering your options, you would have picked the ones you would get along with the best but knew Taeyogn probably wanted someone who could protect you when it was needed. “Can I pick two?” you asked soft, hoping he would say yes just because two could be nicer than just one, especially if you were going to try and make it a fun day. When Taeyong hummed in approval, you again started to think about who you wanted to come along with you. “Jaemin and Winwin” you said as you remembered both of their faces, maybe an unexpected choice as you remembered the way Jaemin had brought you to tears on one of your first days in the basement but when you heard him laughing, you figured out he was a fun and youthful person. Winwin was laid back, loved doing nothing and at the same time felt like the kind of best friend anyone wanted to long for. Your choice made Taeyong nod his head “I will tell them, I bet they’ll like it.” he said but kept his lips parted as if he wasn’t done speaking yet. “I bet you will pick out something beautiful, and don’t worry about prices, I will pay it” he continued to say. Calming your thoughts before they had even been able to get into your brain, even though you were against the idea of him paying for the outfit you would wear. “If Johnny and Yuta get to my apartment, they could bring me my money,” you said as thought about it, your paycheck should have been in the mail or on your credit card. Taeyong disapproved by shaking his head at the suggestion, there was no chance of you paying for your own ball outfit when he was the one who invited you, and on top of that, he made enough money for you to enjoy it together. “Don’t worry about it, you’re my soulmate and I want to. What I did before was wrong, but it was for your safety and our safety. From now on, things will only get more dream-like” he promised as he stroked his thumb over the back of your hand. It was double-edged that he used those words when your wrists were still attached by a little metal chain, preventing you from creating trouble.

Your eyes fell on the filled street for what seemed like the first time in your entire life. Winwin who held the car door open was focused on the way you looked at the outside world with adoration and yet he could see the fright because of your body posture. “Are you ready to go y/n?” he asked for the second time, though this time his question was still left unanswered just like the first time he asked in. Jaemin who had been waiting in the backseat for you to move forward so that he could get out, was starting to get slightly annoyed when his patience was tested. He shoved his ass to the other end of the car, getting out through that door as he had enough of waiting. His eyes communicated with Winwin’s, just as a gesture that Winwin had to pull you out of your inconvenient little trance. “y/n? Come on!” he said, this time repeating it louder as a sign that you really had to get back to reality. The longer they stayed out there, the bigger the chance was that danger came closer to you and them. Jaemin sighed out of annoyance as he moved towards you, his arm pushing against your shoulder as Winwin was too much of a wimp to do so apparently. “y/n, it’s nana. If you don’t pick an outfit now, Taeyong will…kill you” the pink-haired young man said, his tone was filled with hesitation and yet confidence. He knew those words could get him into trouble if you told Taeyong, but if he told Taeyong the way you stared at the outside world, you would be the one getting into trouble.

Finally, your eyes snapped away from the sight of a family that came outside the flower shops and walked towards the end of the street. Maybe you hoped to see your friends around here, or maybe you were just dreaming of walking here just like any other normal person would be doing. The words about Taeyong killing you made you want to protest after you had seen the side of Taeyong that no one told you about, but he was and always would be a part of the mafia no matter the soft side he had shown you. “Taeyong said we’d find you something here,” Winwin said as he pointed to the store that was on your right side, making you turn towards it to check the name of the brand displayed above the door. He kept holding onto your hand once you had taken a step forward, strict orders from Taeyong to prevent you from running away just in case the trust Taeyong built up with you was all just fake. “Maybe, but it’s expensive, isn’t it?” you asked as you faced Winwin again, noticing that next to Winwin was Jaemin who was seemingly playing on his phone. Winwin hummed in response “I don’t know, maybe. Chenle once bought five complete outfits here and didn’t even lose five percent of the entire money he made so far” he mentioned if that wasn’t a lot, but you knew that Chenle could be just as rich as a CEO of a successful company, yet he didn’t act rich unless his friends made him flex. You quickly dismissed the doubts you had when Winwin started to walk into the place where you would get your attire for the ball.

Two hours of fitting, choosing, discussing, talking and occasional coffee drinking passed by. Of which one of those two hours was spent in the first store where Winwin advised you to choose an outfit of that brand, but where you said no because you couldn’t find something that would exactly fit with your style. Jaemin knew better, and knew it was because you didn’t want to be the one who brought the number on Taeyong’s card in a red zone but he didn’t say mention it as he didn’t like any of the things that were in this year’s collection. Thus you had ended up picking up coffee, or well Jaemin did because he was the only one who could cover his face with a mask to seem less suspicious. After a small coffee break, it was time to end up in the second store. One that you picked out because you had shopped there before and it was within your own price range, if you could pay it then Taeyong surely could do so as well.

“Do you like this?” You asked as you got the nightblue colored outfit in your hands, holding it by the hanger as you turned to Winwin and Jaemin who were inspecting the accessories on the shelves. Jaemin was the first one to look at the pieces of clothing you picked out, but Winwin was still focusing on the jewelry. “I do, if it’s your style” Jaemin said as he ran his fingertips over the fabric, casually checking if the fabric had a high quality. Upon hearing Jaemin’s voice, Winwin turned towards you as well to see what you were holding. A smile appearing on his lips as the pieces you picked could easily combine with what Taeyong had picked up a couple of days ago as well. “You should fit that, in the meantime, I will pick some accessories,” Winwin said as he pushed you towards the fitting rooms together with Jaemin. While Winwin still checked if the bracelets and other jewelry really were silver or gold, you and Jaemin went to the fitting rooms.

You wondered if it was something Taeyong would like to see you in, but maybe he would be too busy with the other guests to focus on you so maybe it didn’t matter as much as you thought it would. “How is it to go to a ball?” you asked Jaemin as the curtain separated you two from you seeing each other, which was a good thing as you weren’t completely comfortable with him seeing your body without clothes. “It’s a little bit busy, everyone wants to speak to you, everyone judges everyone silently. But this time is a special occasion” Jaemin said as a smile appeared on his lips at the thoughts, he had been to a ball before and secretly he liked the aesthetic a ball had: the cliché color scheme, the moments, meeting people you hadn’t seen in a long time. “Taeyong will be around you all evening, and everyone will be so happy that you found each other,” He said, a little too dreamily as he imagined the night you and Taeyong would have at the ball. You probably wouldn’t dance but he knew Taeyong would have his arms wrapped around you while he proudly told others that you were his soulmate.

The adjusted the last bit of your outfit before opening the curtain for Jaemin to judge you like he was a fashion designer. “What do you think?” you asked with a smile as you looked at Jaemin, hoping he would like it as much as you did even if Jaemin wasn’t your date or soulmate. “Taeyong will love this,” he said as he smoothed out the fabric on the part of the back that you couldn’t touch yourself. Then his eyes went to look at you through the mirror, but in reality, he was imagining the day he would meet his soulmate just like you met Taeyong. “Are you sure?” you asked as you looked at his eyes through the mirror, trying to see whether he was telling the truth or not. “I’m very sure, we’re taking this,” he said, making you go back in the fitting room to undress and leave the rest of the outfit for tonight at the ball.

The rest of the shopping spree was for purchasing shoes and Winwin taking you to a store that had real silver and gold jewelry instead of those fake ones that were worth less than what they were sold for. You protested but Taeyong’s card didn’t, something you were not surprised by as Taeyong had told you he would buy everything you wanted or needed for the event. As much fun as you had, you were happy when you finally headed back to the place you called home, just so that you could get properly ready with the help of others. Jungwoo had already claimed to do your hair, while Jaemin was going to help you properly put on your outfit despite you being able to do it alone. One glance at the watch on Winwin’s wrist revealed that it was still three hours until the ball actually took place. Three hours in which you would have to eat, get yourself ready, have others help you to get ready… and then when it finally was time, Taeyong would be able to see you.

….

You waited outside the venue together with Yuta, who had a loose grip on your hand to give you freedom and yet keep the peace to his own mind with the thought of you being unable to escape. It wasn’t cold but despite that, your mood had dropped like the temperature would in the evening. Excitement had bubbled up inside your stomach hours ago, only to find out that Taeyong wouldn’t be able to properly head to the venue with you as he was a part of superm, instead, you would just have to see you there. You were aware that it would make you seem like an intruder who most of all didn’t have a date to begin with, without Taeyong by your side people would probably ask questions on who you were and why you found yourself in the middle of a ball, dressed like that. With each time a car arrived, you wished it were the other members so that you could head inside soon: sometimes you were lucky enough like when the entire of NCT dream got out of a car, or when WayV arrived looking like gods that owned the red carpet. “So who are we waiting for?” you asked as you had lost count of the members that had already arrived and those who still had to come. It probably was busy on the road or hard to get all members ready at the same time, it was already impossible to fit all twenty-one in a car so you imagined the trouble they had with other things as well.

“I hope you’re waiting for me, there’s no prince coming tonight”

The voice from behind you made you spin around quickly, slipping your wrist from Yuta’s hold in the process. Your eyes seemed to light up when you found the owner of the voice, Taeyong. His nightblue attire fitted with yours, but that detail had slipped from your mind as you were making eye contact instead. Without you realizing, Yuta stepped away from the situation to go to the other members and wait for the rest there. “I wasn’t waiting for the prince.” You said with a smile as you shook your head at his earlier words, the words making him let out a soft chuckle. “But you weren’t waiting for me either?” he asked playfully because he didn’t expect you to be waiting for him after the news that he wouldn’t be the one to really pick you up for the ball. You shrugged your shoulders at his question, biting your lip. “I was wishing for you rather than waiting,” you said, your voice sounding quiet as you maybe were too shy to admit it but Taeyong had heard every word of it. “I see, seems like your wish has been granted,” he said. His fingertips inched closer to yours, brushing them together lightly which made it feel as if a coat of magical moondust was falling upon them.

“You look beautiful” Taeyong spoke again before you were able to reply to his words, smiling as he finally eyed the things you were wearing together with the way your appearance looked a little more special tonight. “Thank you, as do you. I didn’t expect us to wear the same color” you said as you looked at his shirt, noticing it was exactly the same color as your outfit was, in the light you could recognize some patterns on the shirt to make it stand out more. “Great minds think alike, they say” he responded, his free hand awkwardly trying to place itself on your shoulder as he wanted to hold you but he was unsure of how to initiate such contact. Upon noticing his cute struggles, your hands guided his to wrap around your waist instead, an action you didn’t even expect from yourself, leave alone from Taeyong. “Sorry for abandoning you in the past time” he said as an apologetic smile formed onto his lips, saying sorry cost him a lot because he didn’t like being wrong but knew he left you with twenty guys you barely knew, sleeping in a cold basement and a pair of handcuffs wrapped around your wrist instead of real silver bracelets he could buy for you. “It’s okay, Taeyong. I know you’ve been busy” you said, forgiving him for the little mistakes he made through the past weeks that you had been his soulmate. Though little mistakes he made had been minor compared to the others, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts conflicting with the way you wanted to act towards him. But Taeyong thought differently and shook his head before you had been able to finish your sentence properly. “It’s not okay, you’re my soulmate. I just never learned how to be one” he admitted to you, his head hanging low as he was unable to look at you once he imagined the way you must have felt or looked when you were locked up in a basement, with your wrists being chained to a bed like in some gore sm movie. “and that’s okay, you didn’t join the mafia to learn how to become a soulmate. Even in school, they don’t prepare you to meet your soulmate” you whispered when you saw his ashamed state, cocking your head to the side as you felt worse now than you did back when you were in the basement. Seeing your soulmate like that, tore a little piece from your heart and it was painful.

The silence between you two was painful for Taeyong but he knew you were only quiet to think about things that could potentially cheer him up. “Lift your head, your invisible crown is falling, prince,” you said soft, one hand reaching out to play with bits of his hair in a comforting way. Taeyong let out a soft breath and looked at you, trying to show a genuine smile despite feeling guilty for the way he treated you. “Do you think I’m worthy of a crown?” he asked before his feelings could stop him from doing so, he would never get a crown so why was he wondering if you thought that he would be worthy of one?

“It wouldn’t suit you, I prefer a mafia soulmate rather than a prince soulmate” You said softly as you twirled a strand of hair around your finger, letting go of it to see the light curl that you created in it. “But I do think you’re worthy of my heart” you whispered soft to him, opening up to the feelings you had started to develop for him in a short amount of time. Taeyong’s eyes were on yours when he heard the words, they hadn’t been able to sink into his mind yet, but they seeped into the little cracks of his unfinished heart. “Do you really think so?” he asked, sounding desperate to get the confirmation that he indeed was worthy of all he ever wanted in his life. His soulmate’s heart. Without hesitation, you nodded your head to give him the last bit he needed to believe everything that had fallen from your lips. The heartbeat of the man you had grown to love started to speed up, it was as if his heart had properly been fixed to process the feeling that was called love. The words he wanted to say were ones that didn’t exist, or words just no longer seemed to make sense in his head, no matter which way he tried to turn and twist each word to fit into the sentence. Instead of using words, he pulled you in for your first kiss as soulmates: his arms wrapped around your waist to draw you closer while his delicate lips first brushed over yours to let the butterflies in his stomach fly freely, not even a second later his lips pressed against yours more firmly. The kiss you shared has a hint of the red wine he tasted at the preparty but it was the kiss itself that brought you to a haze of love and feelings you had never experienced, automatically two pairs of eyes closed themselves to savior the love shared between two hearts.

The kiss seemed to end a little too soon, with Taeyong’s lips longing for more while you needed a few seconds to breathe and properly realize what had just happened. “You’re so precious,” He said as he looked at you, unable to tear away his eyes from the beauty that carried your name along. The soulmate he had never wanted but always longed for turned his world upside down, healed the wounded heart that had been running on survival mode for years. “But most importantly, you’re mine” he said, his hands reaching out to wrap around you again. Not even once was he reminded that he was part of superm and that probably everyone was waiting for him or possibly even started without him. With you, he wasn’t the mafia leader that everyone was intimidated by, with you he got the title of soulmate. Unable to hold himself in, Taeyong pressed another loving kiss onto your lips, followed by one that held more passion in it. Your lips were as addictive as the drugs he had taken in his teenage years, but this haze was way better than the ones he had experienced before.

“Shall we go inside?” You asked against his lips as he was midway through the kiss, slightly letting your lips linger together when he heard your small mumble. A hum left his lips, finishing the kiss with another peck before your lips separated fully. “We should,” he said as his hands fell from your waist but instead took your hand proudly to show you off before even being inside. As you walked inside, you couldn’t really recognize what kind of building you were in but it surely wasn’t just a small-sized apartment that you could rent for a night to have a small party. Taeyong had been in this location many times before but never had he imagined to walk here with his soulmate, holding hands as a glowing sign of love. From the moment you walked into the spacious room, you noticed eyes fell on you and Taeyong, which maybe was normal seeing you two arrived way later than it actually started or maybe people had been warned that Taeyong would be bringing you and they had been eye-locking with every person that seemed worthy enough to be by his side. To some people Taeyong bowed, making you think they were his seniors or leaders of other mafia groups that were close to his. “Don’t feel scared, they’re eye-fucking you and judging me for being late” Taeyong mumbled through gritted teeth, he felt like pulling out his gun to send off a warning for no one to look at you with lustful or judging eyes. He didn’t care if they judged him, but you were a masterpiece so they had no right to judge you for being you.

When everyone had stolen a glance at you at least once, the quiet mumbling and talking started again as if nothing had even happened. Taeyong carefully pulled you along with him to where he saw his other members talking to members of mafia group exo, that was undercover as x-exo today as a dangerous mission had nearly meant the end for some of them. You didn’t learn their names but as you stood there with all of them: you learned to understand that Baekhyun and Kai from the exo clan were part of superm, together with Taemin from SHINee who unfortunately was the only one from his clan to come tonight. Aside from the faces of the rest from NCT, you weren’t really able to paste names upon the faces of the others: maybe because there were so many people that you had maybe heard of once on tv, or maybe never even heard of because they were new or not known to the media because of their low-profile missions.

Through the evening Taeyong’s hand had never left yours, neither did his presence go further away from you than a couple of inches when he had to greet another senior of his. Whenever he felt someone was looking at you, he’d remember their names to perhaps threaten them if he really was in the mood to do so. It was only when a clumsy person spilled champagne on his hand that he knew he had to leave you there rather than taking you to the restroom with him. “I will come back soon” he said to you and smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he walked past that same clumsy person with a glare on his face. The feeling of being in love had overtaken his sharp senses to look for danger in every place that he went, which was one of the biggest mistakes he made even if he hadn’t realized it at all. And you didn’t see the danger that you were getting trapped in either.

“You’re y/n, right?” A man asked you as you were following the same way Taeyong did when he seemed to be gone for longer than you thought he would be. The hallway was light but not a soul seemed to be waiting in it to use the restroom or perhaps to just be away from the chaotic babbling of others. You tilted your head at his question, wondering who he even was since he didn’t look like any of the people you had been introduced to earlier. “I am, who might you be?” you asked, feeling defensive when his hand suddenly reached to yours but you were fast enough with your reflexes to pull away. “Taeyong knows who I am, you should ask him” the man answered your question with the kind of answer you hadn’t expected at all. “Oh wait…, you won’t be able to. I nearly forgot some people don’t have good intentions, and I’m one of them” he said with a small smirk, and before you were able to react, you felt something pierce through your clothes and within seconds the syringe roughly created a wound onto your skin. The moment seemed to go by so fast, your reflexes possibly slowing down from the bit of champagne that you had been offered and had been drinking from Taeyong’s glass as well. “Stop” you said as you pushed him away with your arms, causing the syringe to fall but the pain from the needle hitting an unexpected angle was left behind. He was quick enough to regain power over your arms again, watching as your reflexes seemed to disappear with the life in your eyes.

And when Taeyong came back, there was no sign that you had ever been there.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your fucking eyes on y/n? Have I not told any of you guys. There’s twenty of you, at least one must have heard when I said that. Or were you all so fucked up and drunk!?” Taeyong’s voice was angry and ran through the entire room. What was supposed to be a ball, was now the day he lost eyes of what was most precious to him. Everyone was now at their new home, but no one had been given the chance to explore the place or put their things away, instead, all twenty of them were probably going to risk their lives for you. Everyone stayed quiet aside from Xiaojun who removed the fake ring from his nose because it was too uncomfortable to walk around with it now that he had no reason to wear it anymore “you didn’t,” the words sounded harsher than they were meant to be but Taeyong had been ranting ever since the second he realized that you were no longer with them. “I definitely did, Xiaojun! It’s not because you wear airpods, that it means you can only focus on music” Taeyong said back to Xiaojun who immediately kept silent after that.

Taeyong paced around the room as he was thinking, his eyes closed to focus more on the things that could possibly lead you to him again. But since no one had seen anything, there was no trace to follow. “Does anyone know where y/n was going?” he asked slightly calmer as he looked around the circle of members that each looked more guilty than ever before. Protecting you was a never-ending mission that all members had their share in: when one couldn’t watch, the other would have to take over that role. Without it being in a contract, it was a rule everyone knew he should be following. “She was going to check where you were,” Johnny said as he did remember the way you continuously kept glancing at the door that Taeyong had walked into after he excused himself, but what happened after that was a mystery. If it weren’t for the context, Taeyong would have smiled at the cuteness of his soulmate who missed his presence even after a few minutes, but now was not the time for that.

“Maybe we will get a call soon,” Yangyang said as he instantly thought about that moment in movies whenever people had to pay a lot of money in order to get their loved ones back, but the young boy wasn’t sure if that’s also what it went like in real life. “Yangyang, this is not an action movie, shut up if you don’t have any good ideas!” Jaemin said as he rolled his eyes at the idea of his friend. Even though they seemed to have the same hair color, they had different ways of thinking that completely didn’t go well together now. Doyoung was about to stop the two from continuing their argument, but Taeyong had already turned to them, his eyes angry and yet there seemed to be tears in them. “If both of you don’t shut up now, I might as well sew them shut and throw both of you in the basement!” he shouted, his voice seeming louder because of the room that they were in.

The two arguing boys turned quiet after hearing the words, not because they were scared it would actually happen but because they knew Taeyong had his soulmate. “I suggest we split into groups and each do our tasks to find information about y/n” Taeil suggested to Taeyong, knowing he could speak up because he was the oldest out of all of them so he had a say in those things as well. Taeyong listened to the suggestion and rapidly nodded his head, he didn’t care what way they had to work, as long as he would get you back into his arms soon. “Ten, Jaehyun, Johnny and I will go back on location before the cleaning company arrives,” Jeno said already so that there wouldn’t start a fight over who did what job right now. The men that belonged to the names quickly nodded their heads immediately, the given task was going to get cleared so that you would be back soon. “We will get our guns, earpieces and everything we need and we’ll be leaving. We’ll be in contact” Ten announced as he gave Taeyong a comforting pat on the shoulder before disappearing behind the others that he was teamed up with. “Taeil, Doyoung, Renjun, Chenle and I will focus on the telephones coming in and signals from possible triggers,” Lucas said as he had needed a second to properly think about the words he had to use to explain what task his team would be going. “Jungwoo, Jisung, Hendery, Jaemin and I will contact other guests at the party,” Winwin said as he knew well enough that those boys had enough charms to talk to others and himself would lead the operation. Taeyong watched as everyone else divided into the groups without his help, he felt the slightest bit of pride, knowing that his team would do such a thing for his y/n. In the end, he was left with Yangyang, Yuta, and Kun while the last team also divided to go outside undercover to places around the location of the ball.

All teams got to their work and Taeyong knew he could trust them with the given tasks more than ever before. He was filled with stress and fear but hoped there was someone that would give you a chance to stay alive or even that they were willing to take you in if you spilled secrets on their mafia. Anything to keep you alive, even if it was being away from you forever. “We will be waiting until the others give clues and then check where we can lead them to,” Taeyong said to the ones he had teamed up with. He knew Yangyang was perfect to connect clues together while Yuta was smart and could easily find missing dots, Kun could take care of the calm atmosphere in their team whenever either of them was too stressed. For the first time since he was the leader of a mafia group, he felt as if he couldn’t do anything, as if whatever he did wasn’t going to lead to a beautiful ending. In his head, he wondered how he could have been stupid enough to leave you behind, especially after you had felt uncomfortable when others stared at you. The night of which he thought would resemble one of the most beautiful nights, became a nightmare that he walked into with open eyes. “We will find her” Kun said to Taeyong when he saw the man being in his own world, on a deserted road where he couldn’t escape from. “When she’s dead maybe” Taeyong mumbled under his breath as all he wanted to do was cry until there was no life for him to continue living, but Kun shook his head in disagreement. “You never gave up before, so now you won’t either.” he said, seeming like he was the one with the most confidence right now, but he knew it was needed now that Taeyong was already planning the end of his own life.

For a couple of hours everything aside from small and unneeded clues were shared through the earpieces, each time Taeyong had hoped they would find a clue but rather than that it was usually nothing more than a piece of someone else’s business. But with each incoming clue, Taeyong’s hope seemed to seep through his heart to leave droplets on the floor. Everything was getting endless, and there was no hope he had left at this point. It was already later than two in the morning, so you could have been killed hours ago for all you knew. He looked to his left to see Yuta pressing his fingertip against his earpiece, intensively listening to the words that someone else was saying to him. “Ten found a syringe right in the hallway near the restrooms,” Yuta said as soon as he had fully heard the sentence, but after that turned silent again as more information followed from Ten. “Probably used since there was still liquid in it, and some blood on the needle itself” Yuta copied further to Taeyong. Once the information had been copied, Yuta removed his finger from the earpiece and turned his chair to face Taeyong again. “Did you hear anything of what I said?” the Japanese man asked as he saw how Taeyong’s eyes seemed to stare at the computer screen in front of him.

Taeyong replied with a small hum as a sign he did hear everything that Yuta had said to him, he could have heard it from Ten if he hadn’t been too stubborn to turn off his own earpiece. “I did” he answered the question properly, his fingertips clenching around a pen that was laying on the desk. “And? Isn’t that hopeful!” Yuta said, which was confirmed by Yangyang who seemed to lose control of his excitement. “It is a good thing! It means she could be here by tomorrow if we’re lucky, I could get the car and drive there myself!” He exclaimed, unable to hear the pen breaking in Taeyong’s hand due to the frustration building up in his body. “Syringe! Is there something you don’t understand about, you annoying orange! It means y/n could be lying under a pile of sand, dead. And all you think about is racing without license, you’re a great fucking friend” Taeyong snapped at the boy who hadn’t joined the club long ago, but did have a large influence on it. As soon as Kun saw Taeyong lunching forward to grab the gun from the desk, he pulled Taeyong back by his shoulder. “Don’t. We can’t lose anyone” Kun said, keeping his hand on Taeyong’s shoulder so that he was pressed between the chair and Kun’s hand.

All that Taeyong could think was that he truly wasn’t worthy of your heart.

An hour later team one, aka, Jeno , Ten, Jaehyun, and Johnny returned as they had to leave due to security and cleaning service coming. Luckily team leader Jeno had been smart enough to take the syringe home, no fingerprints of either of them on it as they had used gloves to pick it up and inspect it. All of them believed the syringe to be one of the biggest clues that still had been present at the location. In that same hour team two brought the news that no calls that mentioned your name had been made, neither were there text messages that contained information. Through the charms of team three had been one tiny tip including that one of the guests had seen you walking there, but no one had seen the things that happened once you were in that hallway, and thanks them mafia team Exo would also be keeping an eye out for the enemy or you. For the rest, the time had gone by without critical information, time went slow and yet they couldn’t find you fast enough.

Once the syringe was able to get into Taeyong’s glove covered hands, everyone knew he would be the one to uncover what was wrong. His network was larger than that of other members, and he could easily get to clues that others looked past because they were too small. Everyone stayed quiet at that same moment, one word now and somebody could get shot if it was the kind of talk that Taeyong didn’t need. He twisted the syringe between his fingers, inspecting every little detail about it: from the slightly bent needle, to the dried blood upon it, and also the liquid that remained in the tube. One conclusion: fighting back, was something you had done.

Something seemed to be missing in his little set of details, and no matter how much he used his sharp eye, he couldn’t look upon what it was. Was it the liquid that they would need to identify? Was it the fingerprints of the predator that they needed to research? All of those things were ideas to consider, but along with that he also needed to consider that those things were easier said than done. They weren’t the FBI and surely didn’t have a couple of spare days to do the needed work. If they had to find you, it would have to happen within twenty-four hours. “Come on, what is it?” Taeyong asked, his warm breath coming right back to him as it was pressed against the fabric of the black mask that covered his mouth.

His eyes fell to the sudden appearance of the red circle upon his wrist, a hiss leaving his lips when it was accompanied by pain. “Shit” he cursed to himself, tightly holding the syringe so that he wasn’t able to drop that during the moment of pain. “What is it?” Chenle asked, asking before he realized that he broke the beloved silence in the room. Taeyong slowly turned back towards the members, carefully placing the syringe down to prevent it from dropping onto the floor. He extended his arm to show the others what had suddenly appeared on his frail skin. “What the hell is that?” Taeil asked as he nearly felt grossed out by the sight and surely wouldn’t like to have a closer look at it. Before Taeyong could claim that he had no idea of what it was, Lucas decided to speak up. “That looks like a cigarette burn. When you put a cigarette on someone’s skin” he said at first saying it as if it was the most normal thing to happen to someone. “Do you smoke?” He asked Taeyong, confused as he had never seen their leader smoking.

It was as if heaven ascended the hint he needed right there. “No, but the person who has y/n smokes,” Taeyong said while already turning his chair back towards the desk. His fingertips wasted no time in taking the syringe back between them, there was something he could get out of this. “Smoking” Taeyong repeated as he went over a list of signs that people were smoking: aside from a possible bad breath and being unhealthy in the future. He remembered moments he saw others smoke, bringing the syringe up to his eyes to inspect it closely. Even though they basically knew the hint that the person smoked, it was a hint Taeyong had to see on the syringe before he was able to believe the story. Despite the pain in his wrist, he would continue because you were in more pain than he was. Then the hint seemed to push away all of the other thoughts in his mind, and instantly he brought the syringe to his nose to smell it. He knew that the smell of cigarettes would leave its prints on fingers, and when he could smell that exact scent on the syringe, a smirk appeared on his lips. It wasn’t just this one puzzle piece in his mind, many puzzle pieces from fragments of time had come together in his mind.

{fb} “I will come back soon,” Taeyong said to you with a smile on his lips, he pressed a delicate kiss on your cheek before he walked past the younger man that spilled half a glass of champagne over his hand and shirt. After passing by the younger man, he passed by other groups in conversation but most importantly someone that looked oddly familiar but there was no label he could paste on the man. “Sir, you are not allowed to light cigarettes inside the building” A part of the staff also coming from one of the groups here interrupted the man, Taeyong briefly paid attention to the way the man had lit his cigarette but afterwards tore a piece of it off to put down the stick and avoid starting an argument. {fb end}

“I know who it is” Taeyong mumbled to himself as he once again dropped the syringe back onto the table, there were no more doubts he had at this point, and his feeling of hope was still close to non-existent but there was space for a change. His head took a train to when he first saw that person, in a rival mafia group that they broke down after killing one of their former members. For so long Taeyong hadn’t heard of that mafia group, with the thought that the extermination had been done properly. But today was the day life had returned to one member of that group, all with the intention to now break the group that proudly carried the name of NCT. “I have to go and get y/n,” he said, rash thoughts entering his mind as he forgot about risks and dangers he would have to take just to get to you. Risks that could not only get him killed but also could get you killed right next to him. “Not alone,” Doyoung said, as the only one who didn’t have his head in the clouds in hopes of a good ending, he was always the type to speak honestly and also be right about such things. “I have to go, I’m her soulmate!” Taeyong protested to Doyoung, he was calm enough to do it himself so he didn’t understand why he had to carry twenty members under his arm to save you. “Exactly, you’re too connected to her.” Doyoung said, breaking down the point of Taeyong being your soulmate, the only one who could use that argument was him by saying that the bond between you and him was way too emotional.

Taeyong shook his head with a deep sigh “Doyoung, there are two people important in a story. It’s the couple. So all twenty of you, won’t fit on the white horse” He said sarcastically, almost annoyed that Doyoung didn’t get why it had to be him saving you. But Taeyong also knew that there was no point in fighting against Doyoung, somehow Doyoung was just always right just like teachers would always be right in the eyes of a young child. “Fine, you can come. But I’m not staying here” Taeyong said as he heard some members letting out something that sounded like a soft cheer. Despite not wanting to hear cheering yet, he didn’t say anything about it this time, this mission would be legendary.

“Let’s make the rules”

The nightblue sky in your dream brought peace to your mind, hazing you through a few more minutes of being away from reality. The small smile was displayed on your lips when you heard Taeyong’s voice in your mind, your body turning towards where the voice came from. But when you looked: no one had been standing behind you, you had been waiting for no one…no one

The night seemed to turn darker in a split second, and an unexpected shriek left your lips in pain. Enough to pull you out of the dream you found yourself in, your glazed eyes looking down upon your wrist. Even with the blurry sight, you could see the red circle that formed at the exact same place where you felt the burning sensation. It was too dark to clearly see what it was, and when you looked up you realized the man hovering over you was the one creating that darkness. “So now you’re with me, soulmate” He spoke to you, his fingertips pushing the cigarette back between his lips.

“What?” you asked softly as you tried to hold your wrist but noticed that like one time long ago, you were unable to move your hands thanks to the wires around your arms and handcuffs around your wrists. You tried to use your eyes to look at his face, but gave up due to weakness of your eyes and probably your drugged up mind. “Spill your heart to me, tell me about Taeyong” he insisted as he moved to sit on a chair opposite of you, watching you with intense eyes. The things he’d do to you if it weren’t for his overpowering interest in Taeyong and killing you. “Taeyong?” you asked as you cocked your head to the side a little too fast, creating a feeling of sickness directly in your throat, but you swallowed it away before anything could happen. “Yes Taeyong, he was your fucking soulmate a few hours ago, so I assume that he still is at this second!” the man snapped, losing his temper which resulted in you getting another burn mark displayed on your wrist. Finally, when you saw the cigarette, you clicked the pieces together.

When you didn’t reply to those words, the man roughly shoved his chair backward, which created a loud sound against the wall. “Taeyong got your tongue?” He asked you, making you feel intimidated when his body hovered over yours until you had nowhere to look but at him. The feeling of your wrists burning made you feel a little more sober with each new jolt of pain, even though you weren’t sure if that was a good thing, this was something you’d rather not remember. “He doesn’t, but he has my heart” you replied, not meaning them in a cliché way but yet they sounded that way. You would never betray Taeyong and hang his secrets off of a big clock for everyone to read whenever the hour hit, if that was the case then you’d rather die for him and take the secrets with you in the grave. “Isn’t that sweet? Young love, soulmates sharing souls” he said, not meaning a word of the things he was saying by extravagantly pronouncing them. “I’m not letting you get out of here until you tell me everything you know, which I figured out is a lot” he said, pointing the cigarette at you to threaten you some more into telling him everything. “I’m not speaking until you get these wires off of me, I’m not a tv, I don’t need a cable” you said back to him, trying to lean against the chair that you were sat on.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” The man asked and rolled his eyes, letting out a laugh. As if he was going to believe that you would stay quiet. “Shall we test the theory right away?” he asked with a little smirk as he picked up the knife from the floor next to him, but was hesitant when he could no longer see fear pooling in your eyes. “As long as you don’t kill me because then you’ll have nothing” you replied casually, knowing your eyes could keep secrets now that they were glazy enough to blur most of your view. But little did he know you had better senses to rely on, senses you taught yourself by living in the basement of Taeyong’s hideout. You pursed your lips shut and decided to listen to the noises, hearing how he picked up a knife from the floor and took one step closer to you. Seconds after you could feel the cold metal pressing against the parts of skin that the outfit never covered, slowly towards your collarbones where the trail came to a halt. “Taeyong and I used to be friends, you know?” he asked, trying out every trick he knew but he probably wasn’t as socially skilled as he was with weapons. On the tip of your tongue laid the words ‘great for you’ but you didn’t let them slip out.

The inside of your cheek was harshly bitten by your teeth when a stabbing wound was created right above your collarbone. The pain was unlike you had ever experienced before, and you were sure tears streamed down your eyes but there was too much pain to care about that. “But instead, I thought maybe you and I could be besties. I promise I won’t kill you” the voice rang faintly in your ear, yet a hazy beeping-sound seemed to be taking over from the voice. A muffled laugh was heard, along with the sound of the knife hitting the floor. “Unless you wanna play the game, and see who dies first?” the voice asked. But you tried to focus on the sound of the gun and its safety being taken away by the man. So this was the last moment of your life, although in your imagination your kiss with Taeyong would always be the last moment of your life. This was just a pure nightmare, and what you experienced with Taeyong was a beautiful dream in which you wanted to live forever.

“We don’t need to play a game for that but since you insist”

Behind the voice of the man also appeared the faint familiar voice of Haechan, a soft giggle slipping past his lips to make him sound like a maniac who was all in for the killing people part. “Let’s play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to start,” he said, seemingly excited for the challenge. The man had his body turned towards Haechan fast enough to identify who it was, who didn’t know Haechan? He was a part of NCT and two sub-groups within the empire that they had built up through the years. But one important detail about Haechan, a brat who would never give up the fight, no matter how badly injured he was, and his strong point was the whining and distracting. “Where are your friends?” the man asked with a fake laugh, swinging the gun towards Haechan in an attempt to show he was armed and ready to shoot. “Wouldn’t you like to know? If you’re so curious, we should just do hide and seek” Haechan suggested playfully as he clapped his hands, knowing quite well he was getting on the nerves of the man.

“Everyone hide! We’re playing hide and seek!”

The shout seemed to echo throughout the house, there was no need to confirm if others heard it because they surely did. Haechan already ran up the stairs that he had skipped down from earlier on, the man following barely one step behind him. The improvised plan left the members that were on the ground level to figure out the rest of the plan within seconds, whether they would hide or instantly shoot the man with the risk of Haechan getting shot in the process as well. And for the sake of Taeyong getting to the basement to save you, playing the nostalgic game seemed to be the best solution.

The man’s eyes furiously checked every piece of the room that was in front of him, while Haechan moved to sit on top of an awfully old coffee table he had placed in the middle of the room. “tik tok, time is ticking” Haechan said with a whine once he noticed the man wasn’t making any move towards a place that could reveal where the members were hiding. “I could just shoot you if you don’t play along” Haechan warned as he revealed his own gun, his fingertips running over his own name that was engraved in it. Upon hearing Haechan’s threat, the man started to take steps around his own house as if he had never been there before.

Seconds ticked by as Haechan was losing his patience, but he wasn’t the only one who was getting tired of a one-way game. “C’mon you, slowpoke, this is an action movie, not a plus 18 movie” the voice of Yangyang filled the silent void. His body coming leaning against the staircase where he had been the entire time but was quiet enough to escape from the man’s focus. “It’s not because we give you a free testing ticket, that you can waste my time,” he said, the slight German accent making its appearance when he spoke. The man’s eyes went to the new appearance in the room, around the same time also noticing noisy Jaemin who had lazily laid himself on the sofa while waiting to be discovered. “Where is Taeyong?” the man asked, grabbing Jaemin by the collar of his shirt and throwing him off of the sofa without hesitating. A humph left the pink-haired boy’s lips, slowly getting up after ‘dusting’ off his knees.

“Taeyong?”

The man rolled his eyes at the neverending game, you had already tried to pull the goddamn same trick on him. But before he could fire his gun at anyone, Jaemin stood in front of the man. “If you want to know where Taeyong is, why don’t you look for him? This is hide and seek after all,” he said with an overly sweet tone, smiling as if it really was the playful game he would play when he was five years old.

“Tell me where Taeyong is!”

The demanding tone was something that all members were used to from when Taeyong would do so, it wasn’t as if they were easy to scare away by such things. “isn’t that him, there, behind you” But the older man didn’t care who it was that said the words this time, instead, he turned his body as fast as he could. Only to be greeted by the one and only Taeyong standing right in front of him once he had finally made the turn complete. “Were you looking for me? I was here all along” the leader spoke up as a smile graced his lips, as desperate as he was, he couldn’t wait to kill this man with his own hands rather than letting others do it, maybe because of that he had also forgotten that you could be waiting somewhere for him, hurt or dead.

“I have something to give back to you,” Taeyong said as he reached into the pockets of his formal blazer, taking his slow time to test the patience of the man. He just continued the same teases that the others started up, his tongue running over his lower lip as he finally pulled out the object from the small pocket. “You killed our friend with this,” he said as he held up a gun, fingers instantly turning off the safety to kill this man with the exact same weapon. “And now I will kill you” he finished his long-awaited sentence after so long.

The gun aimed towards the man’s head as Taeyong took another step forward, the last one he took so that there was only a mere gap between the two bodies. Unseen by the eyes of Taeyong and the others was the gun that the man was holding in his hand, pointed at Taeyong’s stomach which he would have felt if it weren’t for the blazer that covered his skin. “Shall we do a countdown?” Taeyong asked, feeling a little bit too confident since he hadn’t considered any of the things that could be on his path of life. “Maybe we should! Members, let’s get it!” Yangyang shouted from the living room, his legs dangling over the sofa while he watched the intense scene.

Immediately after that the members who had still been away from the eyes, came into sight of Taeyong, trusting him that he would end the life of the man right then. But still, no one had been able to be prepared for what the man improvised in a short span of seconds. “Three!” Taeil shouted loudly, his arm slung around Winwin who was enjoying the spectacle from his spot against the wall. “Two!” The next voice shouted, it being Ten who looked more excited than he had ever looked before, and yet his red velvet-fabricated blazer made him look hot at the same time.

“one.” None of the members had moved their lips through the eyes of Taeyong even if he had been able to look at all of them from the position that he had been standing in. The sound of the gun came before the pain did, yet, Taeyong was taken back a step by the sudden shock through his body. “seems like I win this round” the man said as a grin was displayed on his lips. In his head was a victory song playing, even though it was still a little too early to claim that victory. As much to his dismay, Taeyong stood up straight and let out a loud laugh “you’re such a jokester, it’s sad that we’ll have to do our countdown again” he said, pointing his gun at the man with confidence.

Members who had already been running towards Taeyong were left in shock despite knowing that Taeyong was wearing a bulletproof vest underneath two layers of clothes, tucket away neatly for others to forget that idea. “Three!” the countdown started again, this time by Taeyong who nodded as a motion for the other members to protect spaces like doors so that the man couldn’t escape. “Two” Jisung spoke up, his expression neutral but on the inside, he was just as happy as the others were at this moment. Before the last digit left someone’s lips, the sound of the bullet being fired filled the room.

Taeyong pushed the man away, allowing the dying body to hit the ground loudly, after all of these years, he had gotten revenge and had been able to save you from the hands of this man. “Thanks for playing with us,” Haechan said, kicking his foot against the man’s leg while he walked by but those words were unheard by Taeyong who suddenly solemnly focused on the thought of you. He sprinted towards the door and went to the basement as fast as his feet could, through a rush of adrenaline everything was possible, everything for you to be fine.

“y/n!” Taeyong shouted out as he ran into the basement, eyes frantically looking for your presence. But that’s when he noticed you on the floor, hands busy by stroking a knife over the wires that tied you together, it was like you were playing a musical masterpiece on the violin but only in a different angle of lighting. hen you heard his voice, your head was raised, and not even one second was needed for you to recognize the person you called your soulmate. His legs felt weak but his feet wouldn’t stop from moving themselves over to where you were sat. Once close enough, his arms wrapped around your body in an attempt to ask for forgiveness, and a way to say that he was happy to see you alive. When he felt one arm wrapping back around his body, he knew some secret genie must have granted his wish for forgiveness. “Can you help me?” you croaked out soft, your voice weak regardless of the silent protest that you had undergone for the second time in your life. Maybe it was the fright that had left its impact on your voice, but Taeyong could never blame you for such a thing. Taeyong pulled away from the embrace as soon as he heard the words, taking over the knife from your hands to cut the remaining wires until your body was freed from them.

“Let’s go home” Taeyong said as he lifted your body up into his arms, not needing one bit of strength to do so. He could feel the way your body shivered as you were so close to him. And his eyes dropped their gaze on the burn marks scattered across the skin of your wrist, resembling the marks that haunted him as well. He was silent as he carried you up the stairs and out of the basement, all he wanted was to get you out of the terrible nightmare you were forced into. It was Jungwoo who opened the door for you and Taeyong to go outside, where cars had been gathered due to twenty-one people never making it into one car. Some had already gone back home on Kun’s order to get everything ready for your arrival. Others watched as Taeyong carried you into the car that Johnny would safely drive back to the place where you belonged, everyone tried to add a helping hand even though you only repaid them with a smile. You were their family

Johnny drove the car homewards minutes after you had gotten in, sometimes his eyes glanced at the backseat through the mirror instead of the road, and he was unable to wipe the smile off of his lips when each time he saw what love meant. Taeyong’s arms wrapped around you as your head was laid on his shoulder, your eyes were closed and small wounded blemishes were exhibited on your skin, yet, that small smile lingered on your lips. From time to time Taeyong’s lips pressed to your cheek, when he did, his own eyes would close for a mere second before he opened them again and looked at you as if the were an angel living on earth.

he came to the conclusion, you didn’t only look like an angel, but you were one…

Sorrow filled Taeyong’s mind as you still hadn’t opened your eyes, even after hours of him being by your side. Maybe the medication had lulled you to sleep a little bit too well, or perhaps you had just given up on trying to wake up due to the possible trauma that you would develop. Whatever it was, not knowing, worried Taeyong a little bit more with each passing minute. Missions that he had, fell into someone else’s hands so that he could make his mission to sit by your side until the moment you opened your eyes. His hand reached out to grasp yours, his head tilting to the side when it was still as cold as an hour ago. How was your skin not warming up, despite him giving the order of heating up the bedroom to Doyoung? His skin felt feverishly warm, while yours was like the exact opposite of that: it was like living in the same room with different seasons on each half. You lived in the icy winter, while summer accompanied his side of the room.

Sitting here got quite lonely, even when you were around him, or even when the other members occasionally came in for the needed food or updates on missions that he no longer had the leading role in. Still, waiting became something he continuously did, and somehow never got tired of because he was waiting for the love of his life. Even when he took an hour off to shower and fill up his bar of other needs such as eating, on the inside, he was still waiting. Approximately fifty-six hours had gone by, fifty-six hours filled with endless waiting, and fifty-six hours in which three thousand three hundred sixty minutes had ticked by on his watch. Time passed slowly when the wait was endless.

In the room along with you and him, was also his worried mind that visited a little bit too often. As a surprise, it brought different kinds of scenarios with each time it opened the door, just like a magical black hole would do. Sometimes the sane thoughts were replaced by ones that had written out thousands of words, with only unhappy words in them. Often it combined the word death together with your name, despite Taeyong’s plead to not do so, there was no stopping his mind once the start button had been hit. Shamelessly, his mind continued to betray him like that each time, and each time, things got more cruel or realistic. Either of the two, but the differences lived on a thin line that Taeyong’s sharp eyes couldn’t find.

“We have to take y/n to the hospital”

The whisper came from Taeil who had done his best to silently interrupt the haze that his younger friend was young through. Sock-clad feet silently roamed further into the room until he was close enough to lay eyes on your body. The stabbing wound had pulled its attention, but a close second place was the blemishes that scarred your face, turning you into a different person. The disinfecting spray in his hand was placed down on the nightstand, next to a plate with uneaten food that had been for Taeyong. Taeyong turned his head towards Taeil when he heard the voice, realizing he no longer was alone in the room together with little elements that made it a little less lonely.

“y/n is staying here, don’t even think about taking her there” Taeyong protested against Taeil’s words, shaking his head defensively as he never had or would consider taking you there. His eyes went back to your body, for a moment trying to see it from a pair of unemotionally attached eyes, something he failed at the moment he saw your closed eyes. “y/n is dying” Taeil answered calmly, even if the words pained him at least half as much as they hurt Taeyong, the ugly truth had to be said even if Taeyong’s ears were closed before the words were said. “Then she’ll die in my arms, not in the fucking hospital!” Taeyong said unrealistically, thoughts that had been sane before now took the worst turn as he spoke. All twenty guys had been trying to convince Taeyong to take you to the hospital, despite Taeyong having a well-educated doctor by his side almost every day since you had been like this: a doctor wasn’t a nurse, and a doctor wasn’t a hospital. “Do you even hear yourself, we’re speaking about your soulmate. You want to risk your soulmate dying, just so that she can be under your eyes?” Taeil asked as he shook his head, disappointment evident in his voice as he at least expected Taeyong to want you alive and not dead. Truth was, Taeyong wanted to see you alive next to him, spending the rest of your lives together with more ups than downs but the fear stopped him from doing so “I just can’t lose her.” the words spoke out the fear like it was: scared to lose you.

“You already lost her” Taeil’s words were like a hammer repeatedly hitting on Taeyong’s heart. If it hadn’t been broken when he first saw your state, then it surely was broken by the time Taeil’s words had sunken down into his mind. Taeyong looked away from Taeil, solemnly focusing on you rather than his friend that was trying to feed him spoonfuls of bittersweet lies, or was it the truth that unfortunately had the same taste. Your cold fingertips were brushed by Taeyong’s, trying to create warmth through the fiction of love, in hopes to make you open your eyes. “I didn’t!” Taeyong sneered when he didn’t get the desired reaction out of you, his free hand wildly motioning for Taeil to leave the room. Silence filled the room, making Taeyong wish it had taken Taeil’s space so that he no longer had to hear the nagging of the brown-haired man, luckless he was left in the room when he heard Taeil’s footsteps pacing around rather nervously. “You did. y/n is dying!” he spoke again, setting off Taeyong in a silent moment of rage.

“What will you do when she’s dead, you won’t have a soulmate to love anymore. And it will all be your fault!” Taeil said, pointing his finger at Taeyong, a finger that pointed out blame and responsibilities. You weren’t even dead, far from it, which was why Taeyong didn’t understand why everyone had to push him to the limit of going crazy. “I’ll dress y/n up each day, bathe y/n each day, eat together, sleep together, love y/n like I have never done before” Taeyong said as his eyes closed upon the imagination of taking care of you every day for the rest of his life, until the day that his own life was taken away which would hopefully be the day after yours. “If I were you, I’d give her a chance to live.” were the last words Taeyong heard before Taeil finally left the bedroom as if he had never been in there in the first place. Though the remains were left, upon the floor in front of the man that called himself your soulmate.

Words reflected in Taeyong’s mind like they were a mirror, projecting the words from the view of the mirror onto him. “Give me your hands” he spoke to you as he already held both of your hands in his, providing the warmth that your body needed but no longer produced. Every function that your body would no longer give you, was something he wished he could take over but the realization came that he wasn’t a machine who could do such things on command. He couldn’t replace your heartbeat with his, neither could he be the one that brought warmth upon your skin despite his endless tries. “Listen, y/n ~” he started his words as his thumb rubbed slow and uncoordinated circles on the back of your hand, he took a deep breath filled with courage before he urged himself to go on. “I have to give you away” he continued but was still left speechless at the end of those words, they were painful enough for a lump to form in his throat. In his mind, he could hear you reply, but none of those times your lips had genuinely moved to form the reply that his mind provided him with. “I have to take you to the hospital”

The abnormal moment of him making himself cry occurred, it was like listening to one of his family members saying the words, but instead, he was listening to himself for the first time in his life. Those kinds of words rarely left to the words, if asked, his frequently used words would involve scolding ones towards the members, or code words that were said during the most dangerous missions. Those words no longer were important, as lately, your name had been the word that laid upon his tongue the most, and it was your name that he liked to hear the most as well. “I don’t know what will happen after that, y/n,” he said in a softer tone, the meaning behind it showing that he really was unsure of life after your hospitalization. Taeyong’s eyes searched for yours, even though eye contact wasn’t made, he looked away in shame before a miracle could have happened. “Will I ever see you again? Will you be in my arms once the hospital healed you?” He questioned himself out loud, the answers formed by his mind were all negative and answered with the word ‘no’. Thousands of people visited hospitals on a daily basis, and many of them were healed, but the hatred he had towards those hospitals had no intention of seeing it that way.

“I will call in Jungwoo, and tell him to prepare everything.” Taeyong spoke sadly as he decided by himself that it was time to get you to the place that you needed to be at. If you would die here, then he at least should have given you the chance to be alive in the hospital. With shaking hands, he reached for his phone and searched through the hidden contact list that involved all twenty others that belonged under his brand. Time to hesitate didn’t exist, his fingers had already indicated the call towards Jungwoo before his mind told him to take away that chance.

With the call being made, the last minutes of you by his side were counted on an invisible timer and he wished time wouldn’t pass by so damn fast. Unable to sit in the car when Jungwoo and Johnny took you to the hospital, he had to say goodbye to you while you were still next to him, where your heart truly belonged. Wishes were being made in silence, but life lacked a wishing well or a real-life genie to grant them for him: and wishing for a miracle was like walking on the earth beside next to ET who no longer wanted to phone home. The noises outside the room pulled him out of the trance that he was pulled in once he thought about everything he had still wanted to tell you.

“y/n” Taeyong breathed out your name silently, his head tilting upwards for the tears to be spared until the moment he was completely alone with the sadness dripping from his bedroom walls. “My little cherry lollipop,” he said the nickname, which no longer tasted as delicious on his lips as it did before. The once sweet taste was replaced by bitterness, and the words no longer rolled off of his lips while a smirk was attached to them. “Please don’t be an angel” he whispered to you, his face getting closer to yours so that you were able to hear the silent voice he communicated with. His fingers ghosted over the scratches on your face, wishing he could wipe them away along with the pain that ran through your veins. “Please” Taeyong begged, his forehead resting against yours when a wave of emotions overwhelmed his body.

A knock upon the bedroom door washed away the wave, but he had already drowned into it by the time the members came to rescue you. Taeyong’s eyes never left your body, his goodbye to you was something the members wouldn’t catch him into, which probably was something they all discussed downstairs. “Just be you, don’t be the angel I once asked you to be.” He whispered to you, stroking over your cheek once more before the touch was broken completely.

‘I was missing you and another day passed’

The small white-post it hung upon one side of your bedroom wall, amongst a couple of others that were the same kind but in different colors such as yellow, blue, and green. The adhesive strip attached to the note prevented it from dwarreling down onto the floor, and once it was between your fingertips, it glued onto it like you were supposed to read it more than once. The handwriting in which the words were penned down, didn’t exactly ring a bell in your head. At first, you put the blame on those who owned a key to your apartment: like your best friends or perhaps your parents. Perhaps your parents had wondered where you were, thus had been inside your apartment to leave a small note for when you came back. Though, you knew your parents wouldn’t randomly comb out your house and leave it in a mess afterward.

Your eyes glanced to the other notes around your bedroom, they covered only one wall in the room luckily. One step closer revealed some of the things that had been written upon them, as the handwriting wasn’t always clear when you weren’t up close. The note that you held first dropped to the floor when your eyes landed on another one, reading it when it was still stuck to the wall. ‘I was missing you and a week passed by’ it read, proving that whoever came by had been here more than just once. You moved the little note from the wall onto your index finger, wanting to keep it close as you walked past a few notes to read the one that had caught your eyes due to the dark color of the paper. It nearly seemed like the person had been here more often compared to the number of times that you had slept in this bedroom, you could tell that from some messages despite a missing date of when they had been written. Your free hand tore the dark post-it from the wallpaper, bringing it up close so that you could read the confusing message out loud.

“A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks”

When you read the words out loud to yourself like that, it felt like you were dedicating them to yourself like someone would read you a love letter. But it was a way of trying to understand the sentence that was made up of many understandable words, but together they formed a new meaning that you had yet to discover. It wasn’t hard to understand that it was something to do with a soulmate, keys, and locks that belonged to both the soulmate and yourself. Perhaps it was due to the hospital that thinking in bright colors had disappeared, but what could you expect when for the past weeks your thoughts had been led by other people that unexpectedly bossed over you when you couldn’t lead yourself. They locked the door that was your reality and threw away the words with the explanation that all of them were lies. The heavy colors that painted your life were replaced by black, white and a million shades of grey. The ‘adult’ world is what the doctors and nurses would name it each time you tried to mention something that you remembered.

Reading the words a second and third time didn’t bring you much chance to see it in a different daylight. You were positive that you had met your soulmate, and just like in the quote on the note, your soulmate was the person who had locks to fit your keys and keys to fit your locks. Even though figuring out the exact meaning of the words was hard, you felt as if you understood without having to examine the words one by one. The name of your soulmate rested on your lips but you didn’t make the movement to let it slip past them.

With a soft sigh, you moved a couple of steps away from the covered wall and sat on the edge of your bed, your eyes scanning the other walls that were still clad with old wallpaper. And then your eyes went back to the wall where tens of notes had been left: notes that each time came to the same conclusion, but were written out with different words. The glue on the note that you held, was slowly starting to wear off, causing the note to fall on the ground like leaves in fall would fall down trees to say goodbye to the previous season. “What does it mean?” you asked yourself soft, your eyes still glancing at the wall despite the empty feeling on your fingers now that the note had settled down on the floor. Soundlessly, your question was left unanswered and you didn’t have enough knowledge to win the silent guessing game.

You turned away from the brightly colored wall, letting lies pull you along to a new road, a new road on an old life that you led. The path was one you used to walk on, yet you got lost due to every little detail being so alike that it confused you. Tears formed in your eyes as you thought about the things that you had forgotten, how could you cry about the things that you had forgotten? Simply because you remembered what it was like to stand on the other path, your hand securely held by your soulmate as he was the light that shone you through the shadows. Your fingertips slid down the nightblue shirt that clad your cold skin, it brought you warmth despite it not being yours or simply not remembering buying that piece of clothing for yourself. The shirt used to have the same scent as your soulmate, as far as you could remember, but it turned into the intoxicating smell of a hospital. An image in your head popped up when you tried to remember the scent of your soulmate, but instead noticed the way he was wearing the same patterned shirt that was lingering onto your skin right now. The vague memory brought you a little bit closer to the truth, if it weren’t for the way his lips moved but you had forgotten the way his voice would pronounce certain words.

Your fingertips slowly let go of the fabric, just like your mind let go of the vague memory to focus on reality for a couple of seconds. Instead, your fingertips started to feel around the mattress in search of a tissue that you’d keep there for whenever your nose started to run on a cold winter night. You lifted the pillow off of the mattress, your tear-stained vision looking for the simple white object but instead something else was found. “What’s this?” you asked softly to yourself while your fist grasped the object, creating a sound that you recognized from at least a thousand of other objects. Once you opened your fist, you noticed what was now laid out in the palm of your hand. The green bent stick was accompanied by bright red lollipops on each side, reconstructing a cherry in candy form.

My little cherry lollipop

Since when did it start? From where did it start? Whenever you looked for him, or even before you did, he was already there in some shape or form. Whenever you saw him, you could see parts of yourself and yet, it was your mind that thought about him first. It was him that walked through the roads with you, even on the road that you were placed upon now: it was like saying not to be lonely or sad anymore because he would walk on the tough road just like you did. Leading you in the monochrome world wasn’t easy, because just like the rest, his appearance was monochrome and didn’t give you the light you needed to see the colors of the world. Overtime your chest became an empty shell, with only a gorgeous outer color. While the heavy colored heart of your soulmate, carried around the pearl of your empty shell, keeping it safe until the day you would no longer be gone.

Your ears unknowingly protected you from hearing the two voices in the living room, maybe it was because of the little haze that pulled you from reality. The front door hadn’t opened once, but Taeyong still managed to stand there, in company of Ten who wanted to come to be a mental support center for Taeyong. “When will you stop?” Ten asked out loud as his footsteps moved around until he let himself fall on the sofa lazily, being a little bit too careless in Taeyong’s eyes. After a few seconds of silence, Taeyong looked over at his friend and let out a sigh. “This is my last time,” he said, his voice filled with hesitation as he knew he couldn’t stay away from the last things that kept the memory of you alive. His fingertips stroked over the note he was holding, smearing out the ink that had been wetted due to the tears that he shed whole writing it.

Ten only nodded at the words as he looked around your apartment, his eyes avoiding the mess that Taeyong had made not last time, but the time before that. He still remembered the times he came here, but when the mess hadn’t decided on the state of your apartment. He was about to speak but was cut off when he suddenly noticed Taeyong was already in your room, with the door closed behind him to have privacy. It was nearly like a private mission to paste the new note on your wall, and afterward, disappear with no remains but the note and the mess left behind.

Taeyong’s steps into your bedroom were slow and quiet, the combat boots that were on his feet somehow didn’t sound as loud as they usually would. When he glanced in front of him, his mind formed the image of you sitting on the edge of the bed, clothed in the shirt that he dressed you in before you were brought to the hospital. The shade alone brought memories to his mind, specifically the memory that belonged to either his most beautiful but also most painful moment. The night of the ball that started its chapter with the first time your lips met in a loving kiss, but the chapter ended abruptly when it also was the night that he lost eyes of you. As much as he loved to think about the night where his lips tasted yours for the first time, there was no positive daylight to shine down upon that memory. His lips formed into a sad smile by the projection of his mind, he was grateful, at least he could meet you in small fragments of dreams that he had whilst living in a nightmare. “Hey there,” he whispered, feeling less lonely because of the thought that he was around you, a warmth engulfed him with comforting feelings. If time had allowed it, he would have stayed by your side forever, but for now, you had gone away.

“Goodnight, angel”

Taeyong’s voice was nothing but a mere whisper into the cold room, his own words filling up one of the many voids in his heart when he imagined you to be the angel that would stay by his side forever. Upon hearing the voice, it was you who snapped out of your haze and slowly turned to the source of the familiar voice. Two pairs of eyes were met for what felt like the first time in forever, though it weren’t strangers looking at each other, everything still seemed the same as it was before. “y/n” his voice called out for you, his fingertips no longer caressing the thin air but instead, he felt your soft skin underneath the patches of his rough fingers. He thought you had disappeared and turned into an angel, yet he would come by nearly every day to bring you a note. As much as your mind wanted to scream for him to go away, reality dawned upon you that you had been right all along with each time you had tried to tell someone your story. His fingertips moved to your cheeks, brushing over the now healed skin until his own fingertips were so numb that the image of you had to be real.

“Don’t be sad anymore” you whispered when you caught the tears in his eyes, knowing the way he was feeling since your souls still connected as one, as if the string that everyone tried to cut was still completely intact in the way it had been left before the world turned painful. Even if he had told Ten today was the last time he would come to you, he would have returned every day for you, because you were not really gone. “Please hold me in your arms” you said soft, seconds before Taeyong’s heart mended with yours in a tight hug.

“Don’t leave”

Taeyong’s voice was filled with tiredness as he called out to you, his eyes still closed but he could already imagine the way you looked when you silently tried to escape the bed. A small laugh left your lips when you heard his voice: he said those words at least once a week if it wasn’t more, simply because he had grown to love staying in bed with your love surrounding him. He didn’t explicitly say it like that but both of you knew why he always said those words. His hand reached out for you, feeling around every spot that you would normally occupy but he couldn’t feel anything aside from the warmth slowly fading away. “Say please,” you said with a smile on your lips, already close to giving in and joining him for another few hours of deserved sleep if it weren’t for the playful mood that you found yourself in this late morning. “Please” he mumbled, his mouth barely moving as he pushed out the word. He expected you to make him say it again properly, but instead he was greeted by your warm body cuddled up against his.

His arms wrapped around your body lazily, holding you close in an attempt to continue his sleep, and this time not get woken up by a playful soulmate. Not that he even minded, despite maybe pretending he did just so that he could enjoy seeing you like this more often. If there was one thing he knew, it was that you weren’t the angel he first wished but afterward refused you to be. You were close to one, though filled with too much life and love when he looked into your eyes. “Taeyong?” you asked soft, your fingertip brushing over his bicep lightly to keep him awake. When a hum fell from his lips, you smiled to yourself. “Would you ever be able to erase me?” you asked soft, your playful mood making a turn towards a talk that either of you would always avoid when the other wanted to talk about it. Just like all times before, Taeyong opened his eyes when the new subject was dropped between you. “I’m not confident, I don’t think I could” he answered your question after only a short minute of silence, and during that minute it had been him remembering the things he would rather erase instead of the entire memory of you. Truth to be told, he would never erase you from his mind, not because he couldn’t due to your connection as soulmates, simply because he didn’t want to.

The bad times in his mind were soon replaced by the real world in which you were comfortably resting in his arms, where you belonged and where your home was. Home wasn’t just a house that you would live in together with the other twenty members that became your family, your home was Taeyong and everything you created together around that. “Taeyong?” you asked for the second time that morning, this time not snapping the tired boy out of something that was nearly like a small nap. “Again, but yes?” he asked you, his eyes looking at you as he waited for you to speak about the things that concerned your mind. You were known for those thoughts, and Taeyong was known for replacing them with beautiful memories on a daily basis. “Nothing” you said soft as you rested your head closer to his, the ceiling plainly bringing you to a world of colored love that you shared with Taeyong. “Whatever you want, I can handle it” He whispered in your ear when you gave no clear answer, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck.

However that one soft kiss, turned into more kisses when you didn’t reply to the words. He knew you sometimes kept worries for yourself, or asked for his help when in reality you just wanted to make sure he was there for you even when nothing special occurred. His eyes were set on you after each kiss, smiling against your skin when he finally saw that you reacted with a small laugh. “my little cherry lollipop” he whispered to you, knowing that nickname was something you cherished despite the maybe unexpected sexual undertone in them. This time it was you who hummed, head tilted in advance as you were hoping for some more kisses to go along with that nickname.

“Angels don’t get needy, you know that?” Taeyong spoke against your skin with a small smirk, his fingertips slipping underneath the shirt of his that covered your skin. The warm feeling of your skin under his fingertips, made him trace small figures onto it just to contrast the coldness with the warmth: a great feeling for him, but it brought shivers onto your own body. “Did I already tell you I’m not an angel?” you asked as you pulled away from his kisses, only to be the one who got to make him feel bothered instead. A soft chuckle was about to leave his lips but got stuck when he felt your teeth nipping at the side of his neck. “You did, but you never told me what you wanted to be called instead” He said, his eyes closed when your tongue soothed over a newly made love bite in his neck.

Minutes later you were pinned underneath his body, the nightblue sheets gripped by your fingertips whenever a new wave of pleasure overwhelmed you. Taeyong thrusted harder into you upon seeing the reactions of your body on the pleasure, though he was chasing his release just like you were on the hunt for yours. “Do you want to cum?” He asked, licking his lower lip to stop himself from moaning when you tightened around his cock. You could only nod your head in response, trying to urge some words out but only a stuttered “p-please” was pushed past your lips.

Those were the only words Taeyong needed to hear before he picked up the pace once again, getting closer to his own release when he heard you moaning out his name. “Fuck” he cursed silently, his cock twitching as the last bit of pleasure that he needed had been provided by the heavenly feeling. As he spilled his warmth inside of you, his eyes remained open, admiring the way your eyes closed when a little piece of heaven washed over your pleasured body.

The gap between your two bodies became larger when he pulled himself out of you, dropping himself on top of you to close that gap once again and you weren’t one to complain about being cuddly right after some intimate lovemaking. Both of his arms wrapped around your body, as your hand moved to make two little kitten ears of his newly dyed grey hair. Silently both of you came down from the pleasure, lovingly laying together in a beautiful fragment of time.

“So if you don’t want to be called angel, what do you want to be then?” Taeyong asked, breaking the silence with his soft voice. The way he tilted his head questioningly made him seem cute, especially in combination with the way his hair stayed in the shape of two cat ears. His eyes met yours, seeing nothing but love in them just like you saw in his eyes.

“just your soulmate, my little cherry lollipop”

686 notes · View notes

mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

Text

Our Lady of the Underground || Morgan & Miriam

TIMING: Current/the Winter Solstice

PARTIES: @meflemming & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan Beck, dead witch walking, gathers her final sacrifice.

CONTAINS: Violence, mentions of torture, death

Morgan tried trolling the Magic Circle for gossip about who was getting into dark shit and doing experiments they probably shouldn’t, but everyone was more curious about why she had stopped coming by Amity Row and why she wouldn’t take them up on their drink offers. So Morgan left it to chance, or fate.When the day came, she loitered around outside some other bar, her lonely act not much of one at all, and waited for someone to ask twice for her company. Somehow, he took all her grimacing and turning away as signs of just being nervous and offered to get some air outside with her before she could come up with a good excuse.

And now he was bound and gagged and unconscious before the Devil’s Gullet, which just went to prove you really shouldn’t follow women who invited you for a late night stroll in the woods after dark. Fog rolled in thick, obscuring the line between solid ground and bottomless pit and stifling the sound of any life around them. Even the rest of the air felt suspended, hiding. Morgan tucked her jacket sleeves into the rubber kitchen gloves she put on to search pockets for anything dangerous or distinct enough to get them caught, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, except for some runestones and a tarot deck. Not enough to prove spellcaster one way or the other. Miriam would have to be okay with a certain level of ambiguity when it came to their mark; they both would. The maybe-spellcaster guy twitched, groaning, and Morgan jumped back. She knew they needed him awake if they were supposed to get any paint out of the situation, but that didn’t mean it was her preference. She cast a furtive glance Miriam’s way. Was this how things were supposed to go? Was she doing it right?

Taking in Morgan’s caution and overall appearance of being uncomfortable, Miriam made sure to appear steady, confident. And, truthfully? She was. This was her element, just as much as the leather shop was. They were in a good location for body disposal, the Gullet being a location she’d used frequently years ago on the occasions that she hadn’t wanted bodies immediately found. It would certainly serve their purpose well. Miriam had waited to feed a few days just for this, and she was starved. It didn’t help that her fangs had been coming out at random times. She figured that it had something to with the hunger, but it was curious, and more than a little annoying. She wanted this done as quickly and effectively as possible. So she pinned her curls up in a bun, put on a pair of gloves, and pulled her skinning knife out of her pocket. As the man started stirring, and Morgan cast a look in her direction, Miriam gave the small zombie a nod and walked up to the man, an easy, lopsided smile on her face. She patted him on the cheek gently. “Wake up, sweetness. Join us in the land of the living, won’t you?” Though, looking at Morgan and then realizing she was talking around a mouth full of fangs, Miriam rectified her statement. “Well, semi-living. Come on, now, eyes open. Let’s talk.” She ran the knife along his jawline, drawing out a thin line of blood. Best not to wait.

If Morgan just looked at the guy without looking at him, as if he were a set piece, or part of the atmospheric scenery. On your left, observe the ashy remnants of bone and suspiciously stained rocks. Further back, the creepy mist gets a little thick and likes to take the shape of malevolent spectres, and in the center, a human vessel for ritual bloodletting! Morgan took out her own knife and her Nalgene, unscrewing the lid and looking for an easy place to make this go quick, well, quickly enough. Not enough pain, then they’d just have to hurt someone else, and that wasn’t something she really wanted to put out into the world. She had made it this far without needing a do-over. She could get to the finish line and hand the blood to her exorcist and have something to show for these last four months.

The maybe-caster grunted with pain, starting to life. He looked around him wildly, straining his arms and screaming through his gag. Morgan looked around them and saw nothing and no one from one end of the mist to the other. “It’s okay to struggle,” she said gently. “The more the better. You should try to exert as much influence as you can over your situation. It will irritate your injuries, which is good for my purposes, but it might minimize the severity of any PTSD you develop after this too.”

He looked at her, shouting muffled cries of confusion and anger.

“I would prefer it if you survived this, but that’s going to depend on what kind of influence you try to exert. Please bear that in mind.” This would be the part where she made a cut, like a spigot into a tree, and let the material flow. But the man thrashed and Morgan, for all her practice with animals, struggled to make her incision so easily. Instead she came around behind him and wrapped her arms around, squeezing him with her full strength. She looked to Miriam for guidance again and nodded toward her Nalgene. “Please don’t waste anything,” she mumbled.

Watching impassively as Morgan talked to the man, Miriam stepped up again when Morgan moved behind him. “I’ve done this quite a bit,” she said, an easiness in her voice that didn’t match the intensity in her crimson eyes as she stared at the man. “Relax, darling.” She glanced at Morgan, then back at the man, smiling at him with sharp teeth. “Not you, darling. I don’t think you’re going to be able to relax much for this.” She got in the man’s face, pulling the deck of tarot cards out of his pocket. “This.” She threw them into the pit. “This is why you’re here. And for whatever she needs you for. You serve some purpose to her, at least. For me, you’re just a meal.” Then she grabbed the container that Morgan had brought and her knife, and she set to work.

According to Miriam’s research, back when she’d first realized the more pain meant that she was better fed for longer, the Chinese had perfected an art of torture called lingchi, or slow slicing. Some called it a death by a thousand cuts. It wasn’t dissimilar to flaying, and, the way she did it, it wasn’t as messy as skinning, though there was still quite a bit of mess that came with bleeding a person out. Miriam set to it, creating shallow incisions designed to elicit pain, starting on the man’s right arm. The wounds began to bleed, slowly, and the man began to scream against the pain of it. This would certainly be blood brought by suffering, Miriam thought, and the man was miserable, too, his pain and misery almost as familiar as blood on her tongue.

Morgan tried to shut her ears to the muffled cries of agony from the man in her arms. This was not going to be the first body she’d ever made, and for all she knew this guy who didn’t take the first ‘no’ for an answer had done something as bad as Cece’s coven friend to deserve being here. Maybe he’d earned this and she just didn’t know it.

Slowly, Morgan’s fingers grew slick with blood. Most was dripping into the Nalgene (slowly, so fucking slowly), but Morgan could sense it in how much more effort she had to put into holding him still. She’d encouraged struggle, encouraged anything to make this a little less terrible, but this was the price of torture. There was no room for mercy. No room for kindness. Miriam’s knife cut right through any ideas like that, shredding them along with the man’s skin. His cries grew throaty and desperate. He thrashed, messing Miriam’s handiwork, and groped blindly at Morgan’s clothes, like he could pull her into doing something different. “Y-you’re...you’re doing good…” she said faintly. This only made him scream louder, and it finally occurred to Morgan that all the affirmations in the world wouldn’t change what this must be like for him.

The phone rang in a short burst of sound: some anime sound effect Morgan vaguely recognized from Skylar’s recommendations but couldn’t place. She was sure she’d put it on silent when she took it, but apparently. “Shit, shit, shit...sorry…” She prised one bloody hand off the man’s anguished body and fished out the device. It was just some girl asking “u up?” And yet Morgan couldn’t help but stare at the lit up screen. There was a picture of a happy looking golden retriever being hugged by a kid in overalls on the lock screen, too messy to be a stock photo. Both of them couldn’t be his, right? “Mim, how much longer?” She asked, words wavering in her throat.

The poor bastard was quite miserable, as Miriam slowly sliced off pieces of his flesh and cut into him, but she still wasn’t satisfied. Not yet. It was a slow process, an agonizing process for both him and her, though she’d walk away from this encounter feeling full and sated, a smile on her lips. “Not much longer,” she told Morgan, the container filling up. She licked a bit of blood off the knife, grinning as the man in front of her whimpered. She set back to work. There was no need to take hours, and she could tell Morgan was probably getting uncomfortable with all of this blood and gore. Despite the name, slow slicing wasn’t a particularly long process. She only needed about half an hour, though she preferred longer, occasionally chatting and breaking bones. Not this time though. The man’s screams turned into whimpers, short, wretched little sounds in the back of his throat. Miriam didn’t know how a blood sacrifice was supposed to work, didn’t know if he was supposed to be louder for the full effect or whatever. She wasn’t the witch, wasn’t the one with the intimate know-how on all of this. Personally, she thought he could beg a bit, be a little louder. “There’s no one to hear you,” she told him, gently, next to his ear. “There’s no one that cares. So, please, by all means, continue screaming.”

The phone kept lighting up. There was no more weird anime sound to remind Morgan of Skylar or her dead student, who had at least been popular enough for the school club to turn out for her and make some memorial art of her as some magical girl character. But there was still the dog, dopey and excited and probably going to get shipped off to the pound after it had wandered the house going hungry, waiting for someone to come home that never would. The kid, definitely-definitely-definitely not his, but still tiny and happy and if this guy loved them enough to put them on his screen, they had to be important. And there was a group chat talking about a videogame release, a request for help with a calculus program on a tutoring app. And Morgan thought of the kids at Maxine Johnson’s funeral, and that clearing in the woods where she had begged that wolf to spare Deirdre, Ariana trembling her arms, the witch screaming in Cece’s house, the anguish on Deirdre’s face as she staggered home after a fucking week. The guy finally thrashed hard enough to get his gag loose, or looser, and he let out a scream that sounded so much like Morgan’s own. “Fucking fuck…” she whispered. The knife just cut deeper, scoring more holes into the universe, more loss. Nothing redistributed or balanced, it just spread, taking more and more, giving less and less.

“Stop!” Morgan’s hand shot out to Miriam’s wrist and pushed it away. “We need to stop now. You have to be full, he’s been screaming forever, this has to be over a-and this is...it’s done. This isn’t helping anything and it’s finished.” Her grip tightened. It was the only thing steady about her.

There wasn’t any enjoyment coming out of this, and she’d nearly been done, almost been willing to let this man and his annoying phone and his incessant whining leave with nothing more than a few bad feelings and some terrible scars, but Miriam still felt slighted at being told to stop. Stop, as if she had no self-control. Stop, as if she was a child to be scolded, being physically held back. This was a new low, even for Morgan. For all of her holier-than-thou attitude, she’d still agreed to Miriam’s help, had known going into this that it was just as much about Miriam getting a meal as it was about Morgan getting her blood sacrifice. And she’d commanded Miriam to stop? Put her hands on her in an attempt to make her. Miriam felt something inside her tighten and tighten and tighten as she looked down at the smaller woman, her teeth gritted. Something snapped, and Miriam relaxed.

Then, with her free hand, Miriam gripped the man by the shirt, pulled him close, and ripped his throat out with her teeth. Grin bloody, she shoved the container of blood towards Morgan, though she was controlled enough in her movements not to spill it. “There,” she said. “No more screaming. All done, sweetness.” She smacked her lips but didn’t wipe away the smear of blood that lingered on her chin. Miriam pulled herself away from Morgan and set about cleaning her knife, taking the gloves off of her hands and preparing to dispose of them.

“NO!” Morgan screamed and pulled the man back, but it was too late. Miriam bit, and his body flopped back, bleeding and lifeless. “What the fuck! That’s not what I wanted, that’s not--he would’ve been fine! I said stop to let him go, not to--! He didn’t even DO anything! He was no one! Tarot cards are just glorified mind tricks! Fucking---” Morgan’s screams broke with sobs. The mess of his throat was all over her hands now and Morgan couldn’t stand it. She got out from under him and edged away. She shook off as much as she could, but the blood stuck to her hands and made a home in her nail beds. “Fucking universe, I changed my mind, that’s it! Why couldn’t you…” Listen. Or see; see anything besides her own pain and want. But Morgan wasn’t even sure Miriam could see her right now. She was polishing her knife, like cutlery was really the thing that mattered right now. Morgan’s voice tapered off, shattering between horror and disbelief.

“Well, now he’s certainly no one at all, is he?” Miriam mused, though she swallowed hard, refused to look at Morgan at all. This was no place for regrets. She was not one to feel regrets. If she did, they would crash down around her so brilliantly, and she’d never get up again. She’d sooner be able to rip out her own throat than allow that to happen. “You’ll want to make sure the body goes over the side, and make sure there’s nothing plastic on him.” She looked over to the body. “Or I’ll do it myself, actually.” She finally looked at Morgan, scowling at the expression on the zombie’s face and refusing to let it feel small. She hadn’t buckled under the woman’s scolding before, and she wouldn’t do it this time, either. “I didn’t change my mind, and I wasn’t finished. That’s simply the way things are, sometimes. You got your blood. I got my meal. I think that both of us came out on top in this situation.” Certainly much better than him, she thought but didn’t say as she looked at the dead man on the ground.

“That’s not how things are! You don’t get to say that about something you did!” Morgan screamed. She pulled on Miriam, trying to make her look at her. She reached up and held her face, blood smearing all over it as she tried to get a grip. “You have choices, Mim! You have fucking choices. We all have choices! We don’t have to be like this, it’s too fucked. Look at me--no, really look at me Miriam and tell me that wasn’t so fucked and you don’t feel one bit better! Maybe you’re full, but better? Really?” She could barely see her for the tears streaming down her face. She’d waited too long to figure this out, and Miriam needed to eat no matter what, but this was reckless, this was just more unfairness and aching. Someone was going to miss that man and go looking and ache, wondering, and they’d never know that Morgan was the reason behind the worst day of their life and it would all just keep spreading. “Tell me you can feel how wrong this is.”

“That is exactly how things are, and if you’re foolish enough to not see that, then open your fucking eyes, Morgan!” Miriam snarled. She tried to pull away, but the little zombie was like a damn vice, forcing her to look and see. She did not want to. She did not care to. “I made a choice. A rash one, certainly, but it was my choice, and I stand by it. I do.” She looked Morgan in the eyes, red meeting blue like a clear warning sign. Did she feel better? No, not really, not much at all, but she’d never admit that, never give Morgan the satisfaction that she was spot on. If Morgan hadn’t pushed her, if she hadn’t literally grabbed her and forced Miriam’s hand, things might be different. She forced herself not to look away at the tears streaming down Morgan’s face, steadied her resolve and her feelings, her anger and her rage. She was angry that Morgan tried to stop her. She was upset over the thought that Morgan didn’t think she could stop herself. “None of that matters. It’s done now. I made a choice. It’s done now.”

“Because why!” Morgan demanded. “Because of your pride? Because I’m the one saying it? Because then you would actually have to do something different instead of just being so fucking scared? You are so terrified that things could be different, because it would mean you and everyone else has suffered for no good reason and it really was as shitty as it felt this whole time!” Her voice snapped and she cried again, though she no longer knew for who. “You could’ve stopped. We could’ve had someone do a memory charm, do something, so he wouldn’t tell about what happened. He could’ve been okay if you’d just stopped, Miriam…” Her hands fell and she backed away from the whole mess. “I really thought you were better than this.” But maybe she wasn’t. And hadn’t Miriam tried to tell her so this whole time. “Keep the blood,” she whispered. “I don’t want it. I need to fix something about this mess…”

“I am not scared!” Miriam screamed back, avoiding the questions because they did scare her. “Any part left of me that had anything to fear died before my heart even stopped. I’m not scared! I have never been scared.” She gritted her teeth so hard that the taste of blood in her mouth was less of that man’s and more of her own, the dead taste of it unsatisfying and bitter on her tongue. She felt prickles of tears in her own eyes, but she blinked them away, swallowed the taste of her own blood like bile. She would not cry. She wouldn’t. “But I didn’t. I didn’t, and playing around with what ifs and should haves and could haves does no one any good at all, darling. It simply doesn’t do any good.” She choked back a laugh. “I have been trying, so hard, to get you to see that I am, in fact, not better than these. I can’t be! I’m incapable!” She looked down at the container, disgusted with it and everything that it represented. She wasn’t disgusted with herself, though. No, she was not disgusted with herself. “I don’t want the fuckng blood, either. It was gotten for you.” She couldn’t imagine it’d taste alright, either. The man’s blood had turned sour the second it entered her mouth. She didn’t want it.

“Everyone is scared, you complete dumbass!” Morgan cried. She kicked the Nalgene over, letting the blood spill into the grass and drip down the sides of the hole in the earth. “But fine, you don’t want it--” She kicked it again. “There you go. Keep the bottle for the next time you get miserable.” She stood still, hands flexed. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do to Miriam, if she could shake more sense into her, fight her, or wipe the tears building so clearly in her eyes. But the exorcist was due in town tomorrow, and she needed to solve Constance another way before then. “You’re only incapable right now because you’re a fucking coward. But you know what? Mission accomplished! You win! You’re a monster and a liar, but it’s not because of the magic boogeyman universe that made you. It’s just you. Alone.” She stalked off into the trees, wiping the blood on her jeans and fumbling for her phone. She’d already ruined one person’s life, but maybe there was time to save Constance and whatever was left of herself.

“Fuck you!” Miriam screamed after Morgan’s receding figure, but there was little fight in it, nothing more than the petulant words of a child that she so desperately tried not to be. Because that’s all she was, wasn’t it? A child, one that found out the boy who teased her on the playground really was only teasing her and not simply pulling her pigtails because he liked her. She was a child, one that threw a fit every time she didn’t get her way. She was-- No, she was stronger than this, better than this, and she wouldn’t be reduced to anything less than she was by one tiny zombie who couldn’t keep her nose and her wretched moral compass out of other people’s lives. Miriam shook her head harshly, closing her eyes, not even realizing that tears were running down them and making rivets in the blood on her cheeks as she did. She thought about just kicking the bottle into the fucking hole, consequences be damned, but she didn’t. Instead, she continued cleaning up the mess. Determined not to get herself or Morgan caught. She didn’t watch the body disappear over the edge, just picked up the phone from where it had fallen out of the man’s pocket. There was a dog on the screen, a few messages. Miriam felt a pang in her chest and picked up a tarot card as well, stuffing them both in her pocket. She wiped away a few tears, sure that Theo was laughing at her in whatever corner of hell he’d slithered off to. In the distance, she could see eyes watching her. Fucking Wildes. “Do you like the mess I’ve made of myself?” she muttered, and, everything cleaned and packed up, she walked away.

#our lady of the underground #wr miriam #wr chatzy #wr miriam chatzy #wickedswriting

12 notes · View notes

author-morgan · 4 years

Text

Kryptic ↟ Deimos

twenty-eight - honeyed thoughts

masterlist

But the great leveler, Death: not even the gods can defend a man, not even one they love, that day when fate takes hold and lays him out at last.

Death submits to no one, not even Dread and Destruction.

They are both weapons of flesh and bone, of warm blood and beating hearts, and they cannot be controlled.

SILANOS GRIPS THE edge of the ship’s rail, his eyes wide. He stares at the two approaching ships’ decks and can see the disgraced champion perched on the railing at the helm of one —the copper hair glinting in the midday sun is unmistakable. The other is the Adrestia, bearing both the sister and mother. Three obstacles in the Cult’s plans in a single place, ripe for the taking. Silanos imagines the sizable reward Kosmos will grant him for returning to Phokis with the heads of Myrrine, Kassandra, and Enyo. Should he return with them either in chains or dead, there would do no use in keeping Deimos and his increasingly dissident behavior.

“They’re building up to ramming speed,” one of his crew announces, looking between the two triremes flanking the Amber Dawn, a twinge of fear rising in the man’s voice as the two warships speed toward their sides —bronze rams shining.

The Cultist laughs, confident in his fleets’ ability to face the oncoming storm —the Amber Dawn has never known defeat. “Let them draw near,” Silanos tells his men, “we will destroy their ships like pincers.” But a clamor of confusion from his crew and soldiers arises behind him. “What’s wrong?” he snaps at them, twisting around. Silanos sees for himself before they can answer —the fore and aft ships are nowhere to be seen, only deserted waters. The Amber Dawn is alone, cornered into a blind spot along the Naxian coast. Silanos feels his confidence crumble like a pillar of wet sand struck by a wave.

Racing back to the helm, Silanos shouts for the keleustes to row faster, and the low beating of the drums fills the air with a frantic rhythm. He looks between the two oncoming triremes as they slice through the waves —moving as an ax toward his flagship’s sides. There is nowhere to go. “Brace!” Cries on of his crew over the roar of the roiling water and drums. Some grip onto the rope running the length of the deck. Others move to abandon ship.

The rams of the Adrestia and Ippalkimon plunge into the Amber Dawn in an explosion of timbers —smashing through the rails at the stern and bow. Silanos looks up as the deck disintegrates beneath his feet with a wail. Wide eyes meeting the malevolent laurel gaze of Enyo for only a trice before the sharp edge of the bronze ram strikes his belly. With a dull snap and a moment of weightlessness, Silanos falls into the cold, roaring waters in a cloud of red. Sinking further from the promise of air and into the dark, crushing depths —the last heartbeats of a drowning man drawn into a lifetime.

RETURNING TO PORT, Tundareos clasps onto Lesya’s shoulder, knowing he must depart soon to attend his duties in the Pirate Islands. “As much as I wish to stay with you, sister, I must return to Keos.” He still holds allegiance to Xenia and has neglected his superior for too long in favor of spending time with Lesya. “Should you need me–” his scarred lips twist into a smile, blue eyes glinting like the shimmering water around the trireme “–send word.” Lesya nods, embracing her brother before stepping off the Ippalkimon as Tryphena begins shouting orders over the crew, preparing them for imminent departure.

Lesya turns from the harbor, retreating to the leader’s villa, where Myrrine convenes with her councilors to prepare Naxos for her absence. Kassandra leans against one of the painted columns as her mother and the general, Timo, continue their discussion. Myrrine intends to depart at dusk, returning to Sparta for the first time since her family was torn apart on the slopes of Taygetos many years ago. It will be the Eagle Bearer’s first time returning since killing an ephor —forfeiting her life.

“Have you ever been to Sparta?” Kassandra asks, arms crossed. The memory of Sparta stirs both anger and bittersweet longing within her. Even after the years that passed, she can still picture the crimson banners emblazoned with golden lambdas of the Temple of Athena Chalkioikos dancing in the evening breeze.

“No,” Lesya answers, “but I have been within the borders of Lakonia.” And I will not be welcomed back there. They called her Enyo, after the war goddess and sacker of cities —the Cult did not dare send her into the seat of one of the most powerful city-states in Hellas. When last she ventured into Lakonia, Deimos had been at her side and a trail of blood and destruction in her wake.

Under the moon, Lesya lays back against the scorpion tail of the Adrestia and draws a thin blanket around her shoulders to keep the damp chill of the sea breeze at bay. Barnabas and Herodotus remain deep in conversation over the authenticity of tales regarding beasts from legend, and Kassandra listens, leaning against the mast with Ikaros perched on her knee. Reza hums a tune from one of the benches, arm resting on the great rudder as they cut through the white-capped swells. “Rest your eyes, little lamb,” he says, smiling while watching Lesya struggle to stay awake under Hypnos’ trance.

Deimos mounts behind Enyo on the dark mare, spurring the beast into motion. The autumn breeze bathes him in her scent —lilac and lemon balm. He takes a deep breath and lets one of his hands on the reins stray to her waist. Routine had guided the day until now, training with each other and recruits. “Where are we going?” Enyo looks back over her shoulder —glimpsing the scabbed cut on his cheek turning into a scar.

“Kirrha,” he answers, lips kinking into a smile. Almost a fortnight passed since the Cult last sent them to the Megarid to quell an unwanted gathering of Athenian troops. A potential obstacle in their plans to stir a war between Sparta and Athens. After hard days spilling sweat and blood, Deimos takes the advice Lykaon had given him months ago for a leisurely evening in the harbor polis.

Her brows furrow. They rarely have need to venture to Kirrha. Most visits into the city are at the beck-and-call of Elpenor for a good meal before being issued new assignments. “What’s the occasion?” She asks, knowing the Cult’s merchant of war had not sent for them.

“Does there have to be one?” Deimos challenges, tying off the dark mare’s reins at a post next to a silver mount before turning back to her. Seeing her without armor is still a strange thing. Instead of white-and-gold, she wears a lilac peplos and pale green shawl —almost the same color of her eyes— around her shoulders. Enyo offers a smile reflected in her soft gaze, tucking a loose curl of copper hair behind her ear. He could start and end wars singlehandedly and bring nations to their knees in a night. But Deimos thinks his greatest victory is being the one to spark Enyo’s smiles.

They walk side-by-side, Deimos’ hand resting on the curve of her back as they venture through the crowded streets to the agora. “Samian wine for the lady?” One merchant asks, holding an amphora of sweet red wine —the nectar of the gods some called the wine from Samos. “Finest fabrics in all of Hellas!” Another shouts, gesturing to tables piled high with dyed wools and patterned linens.

With a basket of spoils from the agora, they pass through an olive grove south of the leader’s home and to a narrow beach along the Korinthian Gulf, sharing the watered wine and treats with one another. Honey glistens on Enyo’s lips from the last of the teganites —Deimos cups her cheek and cranes his neck down, lips brushing against hers. She shifts, sliding a hand into his half-matted hair to pull him closer. The honey is sweet, but her kiss is sweeter. Deimos breaks away, resting his forehead against hers with a long sigh. The rough pad of his thumb running across her rosy lips and jaw. “Let’s stay here for the night,” Enyo breathes, the words dancing across his cheek.

“And if we’re caught?” he asks. Chrysis disproved the time they spent together and her worries planted a seed in the minds of many Cultists about the relationship between their champions. Neither of them understands why it is an issue —they still reap victories in the name of Kosmos whether apart or together.

Enyo drapes her legs across his, defiance glinting in her laurel gaze. “No one can best us, Deimos,” she says, tracing the jagged scar on his side through the dark linen chiton. He smiles because he knows Enyo is right. No one in Hellas could hope to defeat the two of them together.

@wallsarecrumbling @novastale @fjor-ok-skadi @fucking-dip-shit @elizabethroestone @maximalblaze @balmacedapascal @khaoskrossed

#Alexios #Deimos #Alexios x OC #Deimos x OC #Alexios Imagine #Deimos Imagine #Alexios Fanfiction #Deimos Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Imagine #Assassin's Creed Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Odyssey #story: Kryptic #my writing

16 notes · View notes

klaumiel · 4 years

Text

You are all I’ve got, Austin.//Chapter 4: The last poem.

I opened the door before Shaun even stopped the car and jumped out. I didn’t want to waste any second, I ran to the house, and straight to the kitchen where I had my charger.

‘ Turn on, you piece of shit!’ I shouted nervously trying to turn on my phone. Shaun stood next to me, rubbing my shoulder.

As soon as my phone was on, I opened Lovelik, and immediately my heart dropped and my eyes filled with tears.

‘’ you’ve been quiet for a while…

Can you just send an emoji or something

Anything to let me know you are okay

Please

…

Ok, I’m freaking out!!

You’ve been gone for too long, so I have to assume the worse

Bennie got you, and it’s all my fault

Please tell me I’m wrong

Please tell me I’m not responsible for more blood on my hands

I know you are there! Come on!

If we never talk again… I couldn’t live with myself

All I want is to know for sure, but I’m almost out of time

Tomorrow’s the day of my execution

Fuck…

It's so weird to see it written out like that

Like I know what the words mean, but it doesn’t feel real

…

They asked what I wanted for my last meal this morning

They usually offer a steak, but I asked for some candy instead

If I can’t have you with me …

At least I’ll have something sweet

…

Damn! I thought that might work

You always call me out for being cheesy

Please give me a sign …something

ANYTHING !

Well, I got something for you – one last poem

Here it goes…

At the start nothing left to lose-

Nothing to stop me from trying

At the end, with hands shaking –

I was immersed in a love undying

Now our souls will finally rest in memories

Lost without a trace

And forever will I be free to bask

In the light of your grace

That’s all I’ve got

Goodbye

I answered his message as fast as I could, with tears in my eyes and shaking hands. This can’t be goodbye, not like this!

‘This can’t be happening, Shaun!’ I cried ‘He is being executed today, we have to do something! I can’t let him die!... Maybe I should call the police station make sure that they informed the prison about the DNA … Shit, he isn’t answering! ‘ I hold my phone with hands shaking.

‘I will make a call now’ Shaun said, wiping my tears with his hands ‘They can’t go ahead with execution if there is new evidence.’

‘Please answer me …please be there. Austin god Damit!’ I cried

Suddenly an emoji popped next to my message. He is alive! Of course, he is, he can’t just leave me like that, my heart pounded in my chest, and I saw a message popping up

‘’WAIT- YOU’RE ALIVE!?’’

I smiled through tears. Duh!

I told him that I submitted Bennie’s DNA and they are testing it as we speak.

But the happiness didn’t last long, the guard came to get him. This can’t be the end!

‘Shaun, what did they tell you !?’ I asked getting more and more anxious

‘They informed his lawyer, he is on his way there. Austin will be fine Maya, take a deep breath and calm down. He will be okay ‘ Shaun said, approaching me and grabbed my hand, I squeezed my phone so hard I left a mark on my hand, and my fingers got numb.

‘But the guard just came to take him, he told me … Are you sure? ‘ I felt lighter, calmer but still not sure, what to think about this

‘Maya, they confirmed that prison is aware. The guard must’ve come for some other reason… hang on… he had his phone in the cell? I thought he kept it the library. ‘

‘He took it with him because he was worried, I wasn’t answering he thought I was dead.’

Shaun smiled gently ‘ You should rest, go to sleep for a little while, don’t worry, he will be fine.’

Shaun went back home. I took a quick shower, and laid on the sofa, put my phone on the loudest setting possible and quickly fell asleep.

A few hours later, loud sound woke me up. I sat up quickly looked outside; it was dark. Must’ve slept all day.

‘’How do I love thee?

Let me count the ways,

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.‘’

Is he saying what I think he is saying?

‘’I fucking love you.’’

I felt butterflies feeling my stomach, I smiled from ear to ear ‘I love you too!’ I answered.

I’ve been waiting for this moment for days. Only the thought of losing him proved me how much I loved him, how important to me he was. My worries he won’t feel the same vanished. Happiness filled me instantly, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. But there were happy tears.

He was fine, alive and most likely will be realised soon. We will finally be able to be together. I felt like I didn’t want to be without him ever again.

Bennie’s DNA was a match, and the judge accepted it as evidence in his case. His execution has been postponed, and he had court scheduled for the next morning. We talked for a little while longer. This time our conversation felt lighter, we finally said it. I couldn’t wait to be able to tell him in person.

Straight after I called Shaun and shared the good news. I also decided to call Gemma, she was my friend for the last ten years after all.

She listened, but she was cold and very distanced.

‘Gemma, what is going on? Did I do something wrong ?’ I decided to ask her

‘ No, everything is fine’ I knew it was a lie

‘Listen, I think we need to talk. Do you want to go for coffee before work tomorrow? I really need to know what’s going on.’

‘Sure, I will pop to your place at seven, ok? I need to go now. I am happy for you. See you tomorrow.’ She hang up before I managed to answer.

I was anxious but happy at the same time. Austin and I took our relationship to the next level, we managed to save his life, depending on the outcome of tomorrow’s court he could be a free man soon. The feeling of being able to finally see him was amazing.

The whole situation with Gemma was strange, but if she wanted to blow our friendship because of some stupid reason, I wouldn’t stop her. I had all I wanted at this moment, Austin

alive and safe, I knew I will probably have to wait for him, but I was ready for this.

I lied in bed reading his messages, his beautiful poems. He is such a melt, but I love him so much. Always playing the rough and scary guy but deep inside such a softy. He has never been in love, so he didn’t know how to act what to do, what to say, how to express his emotions but he did it the best way he could through his poems. I loved his soft side, only made him hotter.

The only thing that was missing that night was him next to me, his strong arms around me, but I knew deep inside that one day this will happen, and only the thought of what's going to happen once we finally get to be alone made me feel hot and dizzy. I wanted him so bad … If this wasn’t love, fuck knows what it was, but I didn’t care I just wanted to feel it.

Next morning, I woke up with a smile, it was a good feeling. From now, it will only get better.

Well, not entirely true.

I got ready to work, I was in the mood for some fancy clothes, I’ve put on my favourite black skater skirt, and cream ruffle trim shirt.

I was finishing straightening my hair when my doorbell rang.

‘Get in! The door is open’ I shouted from the corridor

‘You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked’ Gemma came in, dropped her laptop bag on the sofa and went to the kitchen to take some coffee.

I came downstairs, we started with the usual chat about work, but the innocent conversation quickly changed direction to something I didn’t expect.

‘So Gemma, I can’t be postponing this any longer. We are friends for ten years, I can see that something is wrong. You are very distant ever since things with Austin been getting serious. You seem to be cold, and I can feel you want to tell me something. Now is the time’ I sat up straighter ‘Why did you say that Austin and I have no future, why are you so against him? You don’t even know him… Or something is happening that you don’t want to tell me about.’

She looked at the mug, clearly getting annoyed.

‘Maya, I have to say it … nobody else will. You look so happy I didn’t want to disturb this, but someone has to tell you. You should've stopped this at the begging when you found out he is on a death row. What are you doing with your life? This supposed to be just for fun, you took this whole dating online a bit too seriously. Frist Albert, days talking about how bad you feel about telling him to fuck off because you are not ready, instead of having fun one night like you did and let him go, forget it. Then Austin… If I knew that you will get so attached to him I would never tell you swipe… this is insane Maya! You can’t be in love with the guy you never met! A criminal! Luke wasn’t enough for you? Abuse, drugs, gangs, didn’t this teach you a lesson to stay away from guys like this?’ Her voice slowly started to rise

‘Austin is not like Luke, he is not a criminal.’ I was lost of words, I had no idea she saw it that way.

‘ He is in prison, so he is a criminal. How do you even know he is real? You never met him, never heard him speak. He could be someone else…You got so naïve recently. ‘

‘What are you talking about, he is real. Gemma… this is crazy. Where is this all coming from ?! ’

‘What is crazy? Being realistic? Let’s assume he is real, and he gets out of prison, what then? Do you really believe this will be a happy ever after? You will be a cute couple, doing cute coupley things? Open your eyes, Maya! He’s been locked for seven years, he has no idea what’s outside, who will give him a job? Are you ready to be his babysitter? What do you know about his past? Nothing, only a few bits that aren’t pretty. What if he goes back to old habits, gangs, criminal world. Are you ready to follow him? Since when you got so soft and fucking naïve and weak? Life is not a pretty fairytale.’

I just stood there with my mouth open lost for words.

‘ I just wanted you to know that I won’t be sticking around if you choose him. I have a career I can’t allow myself being linked to a murderer.’

This was the point where she crossed the line, I couldn’t sit there and listen to the bullshit that was coming out of her mouth.

‘ He is not a murderer Gemma! He is innocent! Why you hate him so much!? We proved his innocence last night! How can you say all that? You suppose to be my friend. Didn’t you say you want me to be happy? So guess what … Finally, I can see a possibility to be happy, after everything, after moths taking medications to be able to function every day. After sleepless miserable nights, I can finally live normally Gemma. And if you don’t like it .. well .. it is your call.’ I really hoped she will understand.

‘ You see, that’s the problem with you. Is always you. I’m sick of it Maya, I’m sick of being the second, always ‘’the friend’’, your shadow. You are always the centre of attention. Wherever you walk, everyone sees you, everyone adores you, and I am always behind. I’m sick of cleaning your mess all the time, making sure that you are OK… I told you to don’t get involved with Luke, but you didn’t listen to me, he nearly killed you, and you still felt sorry for him. He was a fucking junky, stealing your stuff and selling it for drugs, and you still felt sorry for him. And I was there listening to your bullshit every day telling you to leave him. But you didn’t listen to me. The fantastic Maya with her golden heart trying to help a junky, and when shit went down, everyone felt sorry for you. Poor Maya went through hell, but you put yourself in this shit. And you are doing it again…I’m tired Maya.. tired of being a second-best, you always get the best, and I am left with scraps. Every guy I ever laid my eyes on was interested in you … not me … you. Even Greg… still hoping you might change your mind. And now, you choosing a criminal again… I can’t … I can’t be here for you anymore.’ She was angry, her tone was cold, this wasn’t my friend; this was someone else.

‘ Are you serious right now ?! How can you say that? I’ve been there for you every time you needed me, in college when your parents were divorcing I sat with you every night making sure you are OK. Helping you with your studies so you can pass the year. I stepped out if off my comfort zone every time you needed me. I’ve always put you; first, every guy I ever liked, you wanted so as a good friend. I always stepped aside for you to have fun for a few nights and toss them away like a used toy! So many potential relationships left for you play with. Why do you think I end up with Luke, huh?! Because I knew you wouldn’t want him so I finally could have someone just to myself, no matter how fucked up he was, but he was the only mine… Who risked her job to save your stupid ass when you decided to sleep with your married boss and got fired?! I did! I lied to Greg told him you have a finance degree so you could get a job. I’ve been helping you every day to do simple shit, just to don’t raise suspicions and don’t get you fired… I stepped away again for you and Greg because you wanted him. I could give him a chance, I could try to love him, but I didn’t because of you, for you to be happy. And what did you do? Fucked him a few times as you always do, just to get a promotion. I let that slip… because that‘s what friends do. I am baffled…I had no idea you really thought I am such a bad friend?’

‘Is pointless to try to explain it to you. You won’t understand, you are too perfect to understand. I need to be by myself for a while, think about what to do with my life. You choose a different path. And I am happy for you, but I can’t be here for you with this. I can’t be your friend, not like that. You choose him, and that’s ok. But I can’t be a part of this, I need to think about my career and reputation. He is a criminal, if you can see the cons of this relationship, I am not the person to hold your hand this time’ She got up and walked to the living room to grab her laptop bag ‘Greg and I broke up, there is no point for me to try with him if he still thinks about you. I am also looking for another job I’m hoping to find something soon’ She looked at me and walked to the door

I stood in the middle of the kitchen, I couldn’t believe it. I was hurt, angry and confused.

I just lost my best friend, well someone who I thought was my best friend.

I called Greg and told him I will be working from home for the next few weeks. I promised him to explain everything, but he sounded like he already knew.

I focused on work that day, trying to forget what happened that morning. After everything, I’ve done for her. Is that what a bad friend does? Caring? Maybe I didn’t do enough?

Later in the afternoon when I thought it can’t be worse I heard back from Austin, the judge decided he won’t be released yet, but they postponed his execution. Police were looking for Bennie. I knew it is not going to take long because I told them where I left him, that’s why I had to spend so much time at the station, filing a report, it was self-defence after all.

But a few hours later Bennie’s been arrested and put in the same jail as Austin.

He was in grave danger, with Bennie and his thugs being there he could be killed. So his lawyer managed to get him an immediate transfer to another prison, but that meant we might lose contact if he couldn’t smuggle his phone. This was shit, but his life was more important than that, we could figure something out. My dad knows people, I could always find a way.

In a matter of minutes, he was gone, just like that. From now on, I had no idea if he was OK, if the transfer was successful, where he was. Only thing I knew was how much I loved him, he was everything I’ve got to keep me sane, he was my happiness wherever he was.

#austin #austin russo fanfic #austin russo #lovelink fanfic #lovelink austin

6 notes · View notes

phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 4 years

Link

Hey guys,

This is the local dog rescue charity that we were carers for, for several years. May do it again in future, but after Debbie (who was rescued by Precious Paws), it feels like we need a break.

We have had three foster fails, but two puppers came through our home, learned to feel safe and loved, and went on to a perfectly matched new family.

There is always a demand for carers, so if you think you can, have a look at their Carer Info. Or look into the FB page, to keep your eyes open.

The best way to find new carers for animals is having a network of people sharing the Urgent statuses, which flags the attention of new groups of people. No dog will ever be LEFT on death row. They look for carers until the last second, but will absofuckinglutely take the dog anyway and put them in a boarding kennel short-term whilst a carer is located.

No doggo left behind.

It can be a bit confronting, though, so I understand if you cannot. The majority of the dogs have been surrendered to the pound, for various reasons, and the rescues in the region put their hands up for the ones slated for being put down each week. This list constantly refills, so there is always a need.

Some other dogs, like Debbie, are rescued directly from the disgusting human slime of the world who have caused them pain, injury, or attempted to kill them.

Carers open their homes to as many as they can, but there will always be more needed. A dog can be with you for a few months, to a few years, depending on their needs.

Little Willow was so scared of everything when we got her, it took 5 months to get her to trust men near her due to where she came from. But after nearly a year, she was ready for adoption and went to a new mother; happy, healthy, and confident. She was fast, smart and a very delightful little doggo. I do miss her, sometimes, but her new mother sent us photos of Willow on her first and second adoption anniversaries.

And little Gemini’s face, when her new family sent a photo from her first meeting with her human brother, was SO BIG!

It is hard to say goodbye, because they are with you for a long time, and you have to work hard with them, so they are an integral part of your life. But it helps to know that their future family is out there, not yet aware that there’s a dog shaped hole waiting to be filled.

As my parental unit says, “In reality, if they were not with us, they’d be dead. Someone without any heart dropped these animals off to be killed, and because of all these rescues, all these dogs and cats get another chance at life.”

Harvey, who we have now, was 9mths (Willow too) when they came to us. BABIES who just were too energetic or too big, so they had to be sent away. It takes a while to rebuild that trust in them.

Not to mention the absolute FUCKS who take their little old dogs, who have known and loved them their WHOLE LIVES to the pound and walk out with a new puppy (or kitten). FUCKS. Those little doggos are never forgotten, PPARs and the other rescues make sure they have somewhere to go as well! I know of a 16yo bulldog called rosie, who was snappy when she first came and very depressed, who blossomed with her carers into a happy old girl. She was adopted recently!!!

It is important to be aware that these animals are often traumatised and have behaviours that some can consider ‘naughty’. You have to be understanding. Like traumatised kids, the worst thing you can do is yell or hit or whatever, even if they piss on your favourite rug or chew a beloved pair of shoes.

They may snap and snarl. Might shy away from men, or women, or teenagers. Might cower away, or show subservience constantly. Might hide for a few weeks. Might wet themselves or run to hide if something makes a loud noise or there is a specific trigger. They might rip up the couch twice, or hump your pillows. Try to escape the yard (need strong fences). A trigger? One of our kids was terrified of men, the noise of a powertool, and anyone having the hood of their car open. Would sit, shaking, panting in fear if these things were present. Still a bit much for her, but she knows to go to a human, who will keep her safe. Or sit with her sister doggo, who will protect her.

Willow was scared of men, shouting, and would be immediately wet-herself-afraid and show her belly in subservience. My giant bearded mountain of a sibling would lay on the floor with her, and talk gently, let her come over to sniff him. Eventually, she would lay next to him, and finally he could pat her, and it progressed from there. This took months of consistency and care.

I know of another carer couple who had this tiny little dog who was SO SCARED of everything she spent absolute months hiding under their bed or sofa. Too scared to be touched. They fed her and never made a fuss if she had a little accident indoors. And one day, she popped her head out while the male carer was pretending to be occupied... and licked his arm. That was it, went straight back under the bed. But it was a huge step. She can now be held and cuddled, and loves her little life. But it took the time, understanding and patience of these carers to get her there. It’s important to note that carers dont normally have the whole backstory for each dog, but after a while, you tend to get good at figuring it out based on behaviours. Harvey’s behaviours were extremely frantic for attention, he didn’t know how to sit or be still, he was desperate for attention; his behaviours increased when on a lead (which had to be used for the first few weeks and outside time, as this was a New Household Member time). It was clear that given his age, when we got him, and his behaviours that he’d been an xmas gift puppy that had gotten WAAAAAAY bigger than anticipated. When he was small he’d been the fuss of what we suspect was at least 2 children. After getting too big, he was put on a leash in the yard, and had no real interaction.

Harvey would go BALLISTIC if given even a glance from a human. He NEEDED attention, and it took months of careful work with him to teach sit, stay, look, settle, back back, etc. He’s still a bit ridiculous, sometimes, but he can sleep on a bed with a human and only half drown them in spit (ugh) lmao.

So consider if you could be a carer. Or, if that isn’t realistic for you right now... donate.

--------

Donate, if you can.

If you’re in Brisbane, you might see them doing sausage sizzles at Bunnings on the weekends to raise needed funds!

-------

COVID-19 hit all the rescue charities hard. Their normal fundraising was crippled by the lockdowns, but animals are always in need of new homes and protection.

If you can help out your local shelters, they’d appreciate it!

There’s food and supplies that need to be paid for; PPAWs specifically help out pensioners who take on an animal, by providing the food and toys, collar, bedding, etc. There’s desexing, microchipping and all vaccinations to be paid for. Some animals have extreme medical issues that need to be fixed (such as a dog surrendered with a broken hip, or dogs like Debbie, who were starved almost to death. Who need intensive and long-term things; with Debbie, my family put money forwards for her insulin and eye surgeries, etc. bc we could budget for it. Not everyone can, though.

There’s also little emergencies here and there that they jump in for, to assist. [E.g early on when the caninculin levels were being sorted, Debbie had a random fit, so I rushed her in and they discovered her BSL had hit 1 - very dangerous. PPAWs got on the phone and said, “Any tests, any medication, any fluids, anything that needs to happen for that little girl, you DO IT” and they stabilised her. PPAWs also helped fund the full-day glucose testing and blood panel the next day and an overnight with the vet, that was pretty expensive. To be clear, it is expected that her starvation and new diabetes was likely to experience highs and lows, so we had bought a glucometer, and had squeezy-top bottles of honey all over the house as an emergency-response kit. When Debbie went funny, we filled her mouth full of honey and transported; which was the protocol, as was taking her medication chart (she’d been waaaay high for BSL that morning so this dip was SCARY). It took another incident before the vet decided to use an interstitial fluid monitor, and the results backed up our concerns that Debbie was having completely random highs/lows and spikes with no real pattern. She had the vet recommended food and no treats outside of the ones she was allowed, and at times suggested by the vet. Except on her last day when the vet said she could absolutely have a wholw happy meal, and little Debbie was DELIGHTED. I have the funniest photo of her with it all in her mouth looking excited but not sure where to go from there, but it still makes me cry to look at it because we lost her just three weeks ago. (We did rip it into little mouthfuls for her, though. Just to clarify.) She was placed on a higher dose, after that, and was completely stable from there. It was the testing that initially identified a flaw, though, and we are forever grateful that PPAWs stepped in on that day.

And the point of my rambling speech... is that shit happens. Especially with these dogs, cats, horses, and all the other animals they rescue. Emergencies are often the most expensive to cover for charities.

On the upside! Donations also help with a) transporting animals to carers around the region, and b) on the occasion that an animal’s new furever family is interstate, they can be flown to them!

Lots of stuff.

Think about the mess of words, and consider donating - to PPAWs, or find out the name of your local charity and see if they need help!

#sorry for interjecting all the personal things #ppaws

4 notes · View notes

mvnvgedmischief · 5 years

Text

two cups into my coffee break: part 2 of the coffeeshop au i started for @ireadthehpbooks

sirius black is an idiot. he’s convinced of it. because he’s already messed things up by being late to a date he planned, and this is only their third date. will he muck it up further, or will the cute barista be willing to give him a second chance at love over a latte?

2.1k words read part one here

fuck, fuck, FUCK. sirius is running towards the shoreditch grind, and it’s already 6:40. he’s pissed because he can’t believe that the mother little brat he was trying to teach to play a basic chord on the guitar for the third week in a row had the nerve to tell him it was his fault that her son wasn’t a guitar prodigy right now. she threatened to withhold payment for fuck’s sake. it couldn’t possibly be the fact that he hadn’t practiced once outside of his lessons, or that the kid so clearly wanted to play drums. but now he was fucking late and he hadn’t had the opportunity to let remus know until just a few seconds before he ran out the door. by the time he arrives at the coffee shop and book store, his hair is windblown and his face is red, and he’s done the twenty-five minute walk in ten minutes with a guitar strapped to his back. because he knows he probably looks idiotic and way too eager, he tries to take a moment to sort out his hair before walking in. when he does, he’s met with a sight he didn’t really want to see, but he knew he hadn’t done enough to avoid. there’s remus– the hottest fucking barista he’s probably ever seen – looking crestfallen while sweeping around some tables.

“i hope you don’t look that disappointed on my account.” he’s plastered a smile on his face, despite how absolutely stressed out he feels. he wants to come off as cool, casual, and unbothered, but the way his cheeks are flushed from running betrays him and he knows it.

“you came!” remus definitely didn’t mean to say that out loud, and he’s blushing all the way down his collar. sirius would definitely like to know how far that blush goes, but that’s definitely not something he wants to admit out loud. “sorry– i just thought you were looking for a way to get out of doing this.”

“and miss an opportunity to see you? do you think i have enough restraint to not see the cutest barista i’ve ever met?” “flattery will get you everywhere, sirius. but i doubt you needed me to tell you that, givne thee circumstances.” remus smiles, and sirius’s heart skips a beat. “you ready to go?”

“yeah, let me just put back this broom and grab my book.” remus disappears into the breakroom, where the shop owner, marlene, is waiting to take over. his heart is racing, and he feels like he might be flushed to the ears right now. his hands are shaking as he pulls off his apron, hanging it on a hook, and he can hear her making fun of him for the way he’s blushing.

“aw, moony! he’s cute then, yeah?” “so fucking cute, you have no idea.” the tiny blonde pokes her head out from the back room, giving sirius a once over and grinning. when she returns, remus is staring in the mirror, adjusting his tawny curls and the way his hat sits upon them. “moony, you didn’t tell me he looked like a model! now stop preening and get out there! i want details when you get home mister.” “fine mum.” he grumbles, but the grin on his face tells a different story. he walks out from behind the counter, and sirius immediately slots their fingers together.

god could he be any cuter with his stupid hat and his stupid baggy jeans, his beat up converse and his retro jumper? sirius thinks that boys like remus, hell remus himself will be the death of him, and they haven’t even left yet.

“so i’m kind of really bad at this whole thing–” “oh i couldn’t tell, sirius. the first two dates and the being an hour late thing didn’t tip me off.” “oi were you a prefect in secondary school or something?” “yes actually.” remus blushes again, and fuck he hates his pale skin in that moment. “anyways, as i was saying i don’t really know the best place to take someone on a date. i was hoping you might have some recommendations. or, if you’re like– my brand of idiot– we could get a takeaway and have an impromptu picnic. ‘s kinda nice out.” “there’s a cute place in covent garden that i like, if you’re up for the hike ??” “ oh really?? i live on the picadilly, so that’s actually really convenient for me.” “sounds like a plan then.” remus is grinning as they walk towards the tube station, and his grin only gets wider as sirius snakes an arm around the other man’s waist. he knows that he’s kind of touchy for a first date, but he feels like he needs it. like some kind of touch starved animal. maybe it was because he hadn’t been close to someone since before reg’s funeral. he hasn’t done anything really since before. which kind of frustrates him now, because fuck he feel like he’s lost his mojo. he feels like a bumbling, blushing idiot. the two of them make their way down to the tube station and step on to train. sirius stands, leaning against the side of the carriage smiling and joking with remus. he notices that the other man seems to sway on his feet, and his brows furrow with concern. he doesns’t feel like he should ask– like it was some kind of more personal question- so instead after the next stop, he gestures to two open seats to sit.

remus hates this. he hates that sometimes his heart just doesn’t function well enough for him to stand. he hates it even more when this man– this sweet, impossibly attractive man– notices that something is wrong. he can practically read it on sirius’s face, and remus just wishes hiss body would get it’s shit together for once, so he could have one normal night. that doesn’t stop him from being thankful when the two of them sit, fingers slotting together once more. it makes his heart ache in his chest, in the best way possible, and the two of them continue talking and laughing until they come to their stop.

remus guides sirius out of the tube station and to the tiny french cafe that he and lily usually frequent on payday. it’s small and adorable, in remus’s opinion, all warm-toned lights marble tables, and dark wood. the two get a table outside, and remus knows what he wants before he’s even really browsed the menu. his eyes are lit up as he talks to sirius about anything and everything, from what they did for a-levels to what they’re up to now, and he’s kind of enjoying hearing about the bratty child and his mother that had made sirius late in the first place.

“so you like kids?” “yeah! the little fuckers are adorable– an’ i remember learning to play guitar. i think i would have loved to have a fun teacher that i got along with... i think when i work with teens that’s the best because they uh– they have a lot of emotion tied up in music an’ i remember being like that.” “yeah i guess. i dunno, like, i didn’t like being a teenager.” “oh yeah, me either. uh– shit was dark. but i feel like it would have been nice to have someone in my life that i could talk to. not that i have this weird father figure relationship with the kids or anything life that or anything. just like an older brother figure? do what i–” he cuts himself off, trying to figure out a way to stop himself from talking in that moment. he doesn’t want to talk about it. not really. but at the same time, he’s definitely a let me warn you about all this shit beforehand so you don’t get involved in my mess type of guy. “ you okay?” “yeah, i’m okay, sorry.” “don’t worry about it, love. thoughts on champagne? to celebrate you coming out with me, despite how ridiculously late i was.” theen it’s remus’s turn to feel uncomfortable because he’s not getting paid until the end of the week and he doesn’t really have the disposable income to waste on a bottle of bubbly. “i just– not to sound like a poor coffee shop worker– but i work in a coffee shop and i’m kind of broke.” “don’t worry, love. i’ve got it. you can get our next date.” “oh, so there’s a next date?” “sure hope so. i hope i didn’t screw it up too much.” “i’d like that.” sirius orders their drinks, as well as food, and they continue to talk and laugh. this feels easy in a way being around his friends hasn’t been in months. maybe it’s because his friends new reg, and they knew that sirius had left him behind. maybe the guilt was still eating him alive, regardless, he’s thankful for this. when they finally finish their meal, sirius notices remus’s cheeks are tinted just a bit pink. when they leave, sirius can’t help his giggles, and he’s feeling fucking bold because he invites remuss to come back with him. they spend their night together, and sirius couldn’t be more excited. especially not when he wakes up the next morning to remus in his arms, and hickies across his collarbones. remus is still asleep, so sirius takes a moment to admire the sharp lines and soft curves of the other man’s body, the pads of his calloused fingers tracing down the scars on his lover’s back. remus slowly stirs at that, and sirius wonders if the look that crosses remus’s face is panic or fear, because the other man does not look thrilled.

“do you want to know where they came from or something?”

“if you want to tell me then yeah. if you don’t, that’s fine too.”

“‘s not a big deal. some guy broke into my parents’ house when i was a kid. fucked me up royally but i don’t remember it or anything.”

“i’m sorry love.” sirius whispers into the other man’s hair. “my baby brother died six months ago. that’s why i kind of clammed up last night.”

“you didn’t have to tell me— if you weren’t ready.”

“yeah, i did. mutually assured destruction. we’re big on that, in this flat.”

“huh, my flatmate lily has been saying that a lot recently. usually when we get stoned but she still has work to do.”

“yeah, ‘s a policy, my flatmate, James lives by.” as sirius is saying it, he hears the front door open. “speak of the devil, i swear.” he grins, and their ears are met with the call of james from the entryway. “sirius ! i brought my girlfriend and breakfast!” “are we at the meet the best mate point in the relationship, or should i get rid of them?” “oh there’s a relationship?” “kinda hoping so. otherwise it’d suck that i just told you i have a dead brother.” “then i guess we’re at the meet the best mate point in the relationship.” remus grins, pressing a light kiss to sirius’s cheek. fuck does it give him butterflies. and then they’re rolling out of bed, remus pulling on a jumper from the end of sirius’s bed, and his jeans. sirius also pulls on a jumper and some sweats. the two of them exit the room, and their met with the shocked expression of both lily and james. “remus when did you start sleeping with my best mate?” james asks, and sirius feels like he might be blushing all the way down to his collar. “james’s best mate is your cute coffee shop regular! you know we could have set this up for you guys so much sooner if you had told us.” “i’m sorry– you two know each other?” sirius feels very out of the loop in this moment. “remus is my best mate.” lily supplies, and honestly sirius is glad to be clued in. “guess i don’t have to bring breakfast home for you then.” “not really” remus beams “unless you want me to go, sirius.” but as soon as the words have been spoken, sirius is enthusiastically disagreeing. the four of them sit and talk over breakfast, remus’s fingers interlocked with sirius’s as they catch up with james and lily. it’s nice, having something like this again. and sirius wouldn’t trade it for the world. he likes the idea of a budding romance between himself and remus, and he thinks remus likes it as well. that’s why, when he walks remus out the door, and they share a sweet kiss, he doesn’t fear that it’s the last time he’ll watch remus walk out the door. instead, he already starts planning the next time remus walks in.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #modern au #harry potter #marauders drabble #sirius and remus #moony and padfoot

13 notes · View notes

falsificatore · 5 years

Text

introducing liam d’antona as antony

“ our courteous antony, whom ne’er the word of ‘no’ woman heard speak ” - enobarbus, antony and cleopatra (act II, scene II)

gday ! my name’s jason, i’m 18, use he/him pronouns, and live in eastern melbourne/the aedt timezone. this is my last year of mostly free time before i move to scotland to get my bachelors degree in acting - i’m insanely excited for this group, and i can’t wait to meet and write with you all! without any further ado, here’s liam!

stats

full name: liam riley santino d’antona age: 18 dob: 5th of december, 2001 gender: cis male pronouns: he/him nationality: english hometown: london, england current residence: edinburgh, scotland spoken languages: english & italian, both fluently - also knows some latin from school

history

( his full bio ended up being i-dont-even-know-how-many-thousand words long - again, kati, i’m so sorry - so for this intro i’m just gonna do my best to boil it down to the key points, but if you’d like to take a gander at the full thing you can do so here! )

tw for parental neglect, alcoholism, and death

liam d’antona was born the first and only child of an english businessman and the heiress of a historic italian winery - his parents had met in edinburgh in their early twenties, his father a student at ashcroft and his mother simply there on holiday. they kept up correspondence even when she returned home to campania, and pretty much as soon as he graduated he came down to stay with her - he won her parents affections through very quickly managing to expand their business to being more of a household name in the uk, and after they got married only a year and a half into their proper relationship they spent a few years making connections, going to lavish parties, and spending way more money than they needed to. both had already come from fairly wealthy families, but the increase in business certainly helped boost them a fair bit.

finally, for no reason that liam could retrospectively figure out, they had him - and it was fair to say they weren’t the most generously loving parents. he was more a trophy baby than anything else, and while they were never especially vicious to him, they didn’t go out of their way to make sure he was being cared for. luckily, though, he had relatives who did - those being his grandfather on his father’s side, and his nonna on his mother’s.

the two of them had only met in person once at his parent’s wedding, but they played equally important roles in essentially raising him as he grew up. his grandfather’s house was only a few minutes drive from his parent’s in london, so he spent more time there than not in his early childhood, spending most his time being read any book from his shelves that looked intriguing visually, and when it wasn’t that he would be taken to plays, galleries, museums, he’d be taught how to use a fountain pen and tie a tie, told stories upon stories about his life before his father was born. that was only for three quarters of the year, however - in the summers, liam’s family would travel down to campania to be with his mother’s family. while his nonno took care of business and entertaining his parents, his nonna would tell him about their family history, take him through the vineyard and down ancient streets, let him vent about his school life and tell reaffirm all the things he should be proud of about himself, her passerotto - she’d only ever get stern with him when his italian was off, but even then, she’d come round and forgive him within seconds.

he doesn’t have a lot of clear memories of his early childhood, but he knows one thing for sure - it was golden.

primary school is where his early memory starts to clear up, especially when it comes to how he met his best friends - distracted when they were first put together as a group for an art class, they’d ended up essentially just spending the first ten minutes throwing paint at one another to see what worked, and when they got sent out and told to wait in the hallway, they’d ended up just heading outside and spending the rest of the lesson time trying to clean their uniforms under the bubblers while they got properly acquainted. he did manage to get on the good side of pretty much everyone else in his year level over time - he could tell jokes, he could speak italian, he knew enough random bullshit to impress people, and he’d actually argue with their teachers but in a way he just couldn’t get in trouble for it - but his gang of four? they were absolutely inseparable.

when it came to actually learning, that’s where liam fell short - he’d only be able to focus if he actually cared about the subject, which was rare, and even then, liam’s always learned in conversations - all the random bullshit he’s learned, that’s all through things people have told him in discussion. he needs to be able to talk back if he wants to actually retain anything or he’ll just zone out and do something he finds more interesting - any individual studying he’s done is just to win an argument or make a point. the only extracurricular he ever did was debating - he was on his primary school team for his last two years there, but wasn’t allowed on his highschool one given how he outwardly said that the other teams points were ‘absolute bullshit’ when it was his turn to speak in the trial debates.

for his whole schooling career up until he was 16, there were only two classes he could say he did well in - latin, since it was close enough to his second language to be able to piece most things together, and english/literature, since he’d spent most of his time as a kid reading the books that would end up part of the curriculum. pretty much all of his electives were either with teachers he knew loved him, ones no one else would pick so all his friends could make it in, or simple bludge subjects - and one of the ones that fell into the last category was philosophy. he went into it with no clue what he should be expecting, but within twenty minutes he’d fallen in love - it was the one class where he was supposed to argue about nonsensical bullshit, supposed to think of out-there justifications, supposed to do all the shit he’d been sent outside time and time again for in every single other subject. it was like it was made for him - and for a teen alcoholic with an unfavourable learning style, those sorts of classes don’t come easily.

an alcoholic isn’t what liam would call himself - but the compulsive liar he is, his word shouldn’t always be trusted, especially when it comes to drinking. for him, it’s never been a risk, never an act of rebellion - his family’s fortune, his parent’s whole relationship, it was built on wine. he’s been drinking since he was five, sat up at his nonni’s dinner table with a glass of red next to his meal, and when he was finally allowed to tag along to his parent’s parties, no one seemed to mind him taking the champagne only offered by the waiters out of courtesy - some because they found it adorable, some because they were too inebriated themselves to think about it, and his parents? they simply just didn’t care. his mother had grown up with the same familiarity - it was just family custom, really. family custom that may have lead to a dependence, sure, but custom nonetheless - the passing around and judging of a new brand is the d’antona monopoly night.

for seven years since he started, his consumption was minimal - he’d have a glass at dinner, of course, and he’d take something if he was offered at a soiree, that was just polite - but it wasn’t until he was twelve when he slowly started to swim into dangerous waters. he himself wasn’t fully aware of the cause, but then, he wasn’t fully aware anything was changing other than he suddenly needed more and more to distract himself and feel anything but how he was - but the cause was there.

his grandfather’s passing was nothing less than objective - one day he’s in his library, bitching about one of the dickheads from across the city they’d debated in their tournament that afternoon, and less than a week later his father arrives home from an unusual absence, sits him down at the table, and tells him - actually, he doesn’t know what he told him. he just comes away from it knowing he’d died. he can’t remember the conversation, can’t remember anything between the talk and the funeral - only that he hadn’t cried. neither of them had cried. he treated the funeral with the same business formality he treated his parent’s parties, keeping conversations short with a polite enough smile - but then, when the service starts and people he’d never met before start coming up and telling stories about him, his whole life, a life he’d only been there for a tiny fraction of, and the sheer love they have for him, the same as his - it’s too much. he can’t carry the coffin, can’t watch the hearse drive away - he simply collapses into his mother’s shoulder when they walk past the front row, and he sobs. for the first time since he was a newborn, he goes to her for comfort, and she gives it, in murmured italian he can’t be bothered trying to understand - but it can only last a few minutes before he has to pull away, wipe his eyes, and join the rest of the crowd. he stands alone at the burial. he doesn’t go to the wake.

from then on out, he does remarkably fine. he goes back to talking at the back of the classroom, back to roaming the city with his friends, back to fancy parties - yes, he’s started topping up his own glasses more, taking a bottle with him when he and his friends go to hang out in the park, but he’s not crying, he’s not wallowing, and that, to him, is what matters. if there is one thing, though - he can’t bring himself to clear out the house with the others. when he comes home from an outing he’d organised as an excuse to get out of it and finds boxes and boxes of books in the corner of his room, he can’t touch them - can’t touch them for two more years. it’s only when he wakes up, fourteen, with one of the worst hangovers he’s ever had, that he finally turns to them - he can’t leave his room, he can’t look at a screen, so he finally grabs one at random. and he reads. and he cries, a bit, when he comes to the parts he can suddenly remember reading with him, when he’d do the voices or chime in to explain for the millionth time why what a character did was stupid - it’s cathartic, in a way. that becomes practice - whenever he’s hungover, at first, but soon it’s whenever he’s bored, whenever he’s lonely, he’ll go over and pick up another book, and he’ll read it until it’s done. soon enough, he uncovers a set of fountain pens, the ones he’d been taught to use as a kid, and he starts to use them again, properly, even if his friends give him shit for it at first. he goes down to his grave for the first time since he was buried, and though he doesn’t cry like he still feels like he’s meant to, he opens up a bottle of baileys - his favourite - and just talks. fills him in on all he’d missed, how his friends are doing, the girlfriends he’s had and lost since he started highschool, everything - and though he doesn’t stop drinking or properly clean up his act, he’s able to carry on.

as much as he would like to carry out all the wishes he doesn’t fully know, theres one thing liam knows he can’t do - and that’s go to ashcroft. both his father and grandfather went, business and literature majors respectively, and he knows full well they were both star students - but school’s not for him, especially not a school that posh, no matter how much they’d both encouraged him to apply as soon as he’s able. he’s seventeen, and he and his friends are taking full advantage of the fact that the school courtyard’s empty during their free gcse study period while everyone else is either in classes or, in their year, in the library - and then one of them comes up with the first spark of the plan. it’s simple - he knows he won’t have good enough results to get in, so to get his dad off his back, he’ll send whatever he gets off to ashcroft anyway, tucked in an envelope with a letter from his philosophy teacher - because who else - and some bullshit essay, and when he inevitably gets rejected, he’ll take as much money as he can and flee in shame. they all will - they’ll move to another part of london, or travel europe, or go to stay in campania, or wherever, and they’ll keep living their lives in opulence, only several hundred miles from where they first began. he does his exams, completely wasted all the while, and when his results come back he doesn’t even bother giving more than philosophy a glance before throwing them into the photocopier and sending the copy away to edinburgh. it’s flawless.

it should’ve been flawless.

when the acceptance letter comes, an actual letter in the actual post, the dickheads, he’s stunned. it takes over an hour for him to process it - there’s no way in hell he should’ve got in, but it’s his name on the envelope, his name at the top of the letter, he’s read it over and over and over again, there’s no mistake. he spends hours trying to find where the original copy of his grades were - on the photocopier, where he’d left them - and when he actually looks, he’s nearly paralysed where he stands. his mark for every subject, they’re all amazing. his whole life, he’s barely managed an average for most of his classes - when he asks his father, he just shrugs. he knows, he knows these can’t be his actual grades, he barely even remembers the exams - it isn’t until muckup day that he finds his answer.

they’re hidden at the back of the staffroom pigeonholes, only the ones belonging to his teachers - in each one, three bottles of wine, tied together with a ribbon, and attached, a card he immediately recognises as bearing an all-too-familiar signature.

it’s a school full of rich wankers, any family could use money as a bribe for better grades - but he knows full well how much all of this is worth.

not just any family can freely give out some of the finest wine in europe.

at first, he wants to go straight home, shout at his parents, call them out on all of their bullshit - he’s lied to get out of worked, sure, but he’s never cheated to get a ‘not exactly one in a million but pretty damn close’ position in one of the most prestigious schools in the country, and this isn’t even what he wants - but as he’s heading down the hallway back towards the main entrance of the building, he realises. he can’t. if he tells them he knows, then he’s admitting that he didn’t want to get in, he’s admitting he was trying to get rejected - he’ll ruin any chance he may have at salvaging the plan.

so he doesn’t mention it. he books a hotel he can stay in while he’s there for the campus tour, packs a bag and jumps on the 5:30am train from london to edinburgh. when his phone inevitably dies, he’s left only with the book he threw in last minute if he doesn’t want to just stare out into the countryside like he’s reenacting some kind of harry potter bullshit - it turns out to be moby dick, which is fine, not ever really a favourite, but decent enough for passing the time - but then he hits chapter 39.

‘i know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, i’ll go to it laughing.’

he’d managed to forget about it until that moment, let it sink away like basically everything else he’d lost from his childhood, but - it was the quote his grandfather had always used to reassure him, to give him confidence. the evening before his first day of primary school, he’d kneeled before him, lifted his chin, and they’d said it together, and he had, he had gone in laughing, if he hadn’t he wouldn’t have made any of his friends, gotten away with any of the shit he had - it feels like a sign, in some stupid sort of a way. and then, when he actually arrives for the tour the next day, he happens to spot a board up on the wall, and at first he’s willing to just look past it, it’s just a boring old honours board, he’d seen plenty in his time - but then a name catches his eye. his grandfather’s name, illuminated by the faintest bit of sunlight coming in through the window - and it hits him like a bolt of lightning.

he has to be here.

it only cements itself further and further as he walks around with the rest of the group, takes in the art, the architecture, everything - it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t deserve to stay, he’ll make it so he does. he’ll work hard. he’ll actually pay attention, even when he doesn’t want to. he’ll study everything he’s told, not just the things he wants to prove a point about. he won’t stop drinking, but he’ll only do it at the end of the day. he’ll be the model of a philosophy student. he’ll care. because if he doesn’t, he’ll have to leave - and if he has to leave, he has no idea what he’ll do with himself.

it may be a retrospective resolution, but he’ll do it. he’ll earn his place at ashcroft or he’ll die trying.

personality

(very, very narrowed down, only key points)

+ definitely something he’s inherited from having successful businesspeople as parents, liam is quite the charmer - he’s been able to get away with most of the shit he’d pulled at school for so long simply with a smile, a shrug, or a baffled ‘i don’t know, it wasn’t us, do you want me to try and ask around?’ + despite being largely neglected save for social situations by aforementioned successful businesspeople parents, liam is genuinely compassionate more often than not, and he tries his hardest to stay polite and civil, avoiding conflict when possible and trying to include people if they’re being left out - or at least figure out why it is they got left out in the first place. + even though schoolwork isn’t really his forte, he is naturally quite curious about the world, and loves debating questions and figuring out answers - if something intrigues him, he won’t be able to forget about it until it’s properly dealt with - even then the chance of it leaving his mind is rather small. when he wants to learn, he’ll learn, and he’s good at it - he’s a quick thinker and has a good memory. + above all else, liam is a romantic - he’s had more than his fair share of partners, but all of them he’s treated with equal adoration and respect. he falls in love with someone before even properly realising they’re in front of them, and he’ll do anything he can to make them feel cared for and like they can be comfortable around him. he has a lot of love, not just for people - old books, italy, good drinks, fountain pens - he’ll love something for the love of it, not because it’ll make him look more cultured or help him get further with those around him.

= liam is fairly matter-of-fact and objective - though this helps him get things done and does certainly lend a hand coming straight into the middle of a post-murder scene without letting emotions that aren’t really his cloud his vision, it can get in the way of him properly connecting with people he may not see as justified.

- though it did help him make his way through both primary and secondary school without having to do much work, liam is a compulsive liar, and he has very little problem with it - he’s keeping up a lie he was at first horrified by that his parents put in place to stay at ashcroft, for example. being a good bluffer isn’t necessarily a good thing, and he doesn’t fully understand that. this extends to how he acts around others, able to quickly put on a mask and discard his emotions, no matter how well he’s actually doing. he doesn’t have time to feel bad, he has a job to do.

- although he does try to avoid lashing out, his temper can quickly rise and get the better of him - he does try to handle his argumentative streak by debating about irrelevant, stupid topics, which does work a treat to stop him from yelling at people, but it can definitely be annoying to some.

- despite confidence being good in some situations, it doesn’t always lend him a hand in trying to fit in with the others - especially in the aftermath of a murder, he should have more tact when it comes to approaching members of the society, but he really has no qualms with going up and just talking to them even if they’d love nothing more but to swat him like a fly, which, in some cases, he may definitely deserve.

- unless he really cares for the subject, liam will put in as little effort as possible, if any, to try and do a good job - despite being energetic, he mostly directs it strictly away from his schoolwork. if he doesn’t want to lend a hand, he’ll simply walk away with no concern for who he’s leaving behind.

imperium

it’s fair to say that liam got into not just ashcroft, but the imperium society because of his family’s notoriety and history with the school - but his name isn’t all he has, even if he doesn’t fully see it himself. he’s a skilled debater, able to see things both objectively and have that objective be outside of the box, and this has lent more than a hand when it comes to his work in his philosophy classes. he can take a lot of knowledge in and boil it down to the things that really matter, which, given how large some of the concepts covered are, is a fairly significant skill for his subject, and he’s able to apply or retract lenses to matters at the drop of a hat to see things from another perspective. he can find an argument in anything, and until he’s perfectly sure he’ll never be 100% concrete in any one view. in short; despite being brash about it, he’s a good philosopher.

octavia

liam honestly didn’t even know that there had been a murder at ashcroft until after he arrived - when he did learn about it properly, he was already beyond the point of being put off from the school by the fact. it was only when he was invited to the imperium society that he had to properly think about it - because it didn’t take a genius to realise there’s no way he’d be in if the spot hadn’t open up. immediately it started gnawing at him, and it was only made worse when he moved into escalus house, in the empty room he quickly learned was once lysanders. he’s felt like he’s being watched since he came in, and even though he knows its ridiculous and he has no reason to feel like he’s overstepping by being there, he’s tried to avoid being in the room on his own since he arrived, much preferring to hang around the communal spaces or just stick close to ophelia. he’s tried to avoid getting involved in the other member’s feelings about octavia’s death since it’s not his place and, honestly, he has no real idea what to make of it. he knows it was a tragedy, and he know it affected them all deeply, especially his cousin who he has the heaviest concern for - but he’s never been the best griever, he knows that just carrying on with his life and ignoring it isn’t a good way to go about death even if it “worked” for him, what’s he supposed to say to those still in the throws of mourning?

he doesn’t remember when he first dreamed about her, because really, he didn’t even know it was her - it wasn’t until he saw her photo up in one of the rooms that he was able to put a person to the face, but by that point, the dreams had been numerous. at first he just brushed it off - he’d probably just seen the photo in passing, and drinking a bit too much every night to make up for not being able to do it between classes like he had in highschool probably did something to his mind. but they kept coming, relentlessly - so, slowly, he’s started looking into things. this is just a problem he needs to deal with, deal with it and he’s done, he doesn’t need to get it involved with the others - and even though he tells himself he wants it to be done with faster, truly, he’s intrigued. he can’t rule out ghosts not existing, he’s a philosophy student, he’s spent more than his fair share of time debating it in class, what happens after death - so if she is really her, and it isn’t just because he’s thinking about it a lot more now, then doesn’t that mean something’s happened to bring her back? he’s no detective - but he’ll find an answer. despite this, he’s avoided joining in on rumours of her return, and denies ever having seen her, dream or otherwise.

miscellaneous

ExTP (50/50 observant/intuitive) the debater/the entrepreneur 9w8, the referee sanguine gryffindor

- he has genuinely no idea what he wrote in his essay to get accepted into ashcroft - he was drunk while writing it, which isn’t a huge surprise given he hasn’t been fully sober at any given moment since he was about 14, but usually when he’s closer to sober than not he’s able to recall something. with the essay, though, complete blank.

- he’s never played any instrument, but he loves violin music - his first celebrity crush was alexander rybak, and he still has most of his discography on his playlists 11 years after first seeing him in eurovision.

- he’s been to italy every summer without fail since he was born, and though his mother was fluent in english, she still spoke to him in italian when they were at home.

- he is dependent on alcohol, but he’s pretty good at hiding the fact he has a few shots to wake him up in the morning and at least two glasses of wine in the evening - but he’s been drinking as a family thing since he was a kid, so you’d suppose he’s used to it. it takes a lot for him to get properly drunk.

- he’s never learned how to drive, but, again - hasn’t been sober since he was 14.

- he never watched a lot of movies or tv growing up, and still doesn’t, but he adores the truman show - he watched it for his philosophy class in high school when he was first starting out, and now it’s a go-to whenever he’s bored.

- he likes the debating aspect of his philosophy classes more than actually learning about the philosophers behind what he’s being taught.

- his handwriting is more than illegible, and it’s definitely not helped by the dual factors that he’s using easily smudged fountain pen ink and that half his notes are in italian - granted, translating helps him remember, but it’s no help to anyone else who wants to read them for revision.

- as far as his gang from school are aware, he hates ashcroft and is still trying to find a way to get himself expelled.

- he’s good at breaking things but can rarely put them perfectly back together - in his own words, he’s perfectly capable of undoing knots, but he struggles beyond shoelaces and ties and has literally no clue how people manage to tie two pieces of string together.

- despite struggling in school environments, he does still know a fair bit about history and just general random trivia, though for the most part its just things he picked up in conversations.

#spectreintro #FINALLY got this done my god #most of this is copy/pasted from his app but narrowing his bio took. so long also i didnt even shorten it that much?? very annoying #ah well #[ about ]

8 notes · View notes