#we're saving up for a more permanent place to live so we're really going hard on promo lately in case you were wondering KJGHF

[windywallflower]

So this is all that was left on our table at the end of TCAF this year and the two of us are both still pretty emotional about it. I know we post a lot of promo and yelling about our next big thing so I wanted to take a little second to say thank you!

It's been a bit of a dream of ours to sell out the whole table (mostly all our books) at a con and between Calgary Expo nearly selling us clean & TCAF's clean sweep here, we're both feeling really emotional about it and really touched that people like our work this much.

Neither of us has a huge following (that folks can see via numbers on social media) but I know I (Winter) have been doing conventions and festivals for 11 years now & Tas has been running SanCirc for nearly 10 years. The two of us combined have been pushing Windy & Wallflower for almost 5???? Insane. I feel like the two of us have only grown more and more from our start with A Tempo & Paint The Town Red. (or Sancirc..... and Badmouth if you wanna get REAL old here).

It means a LOT that folks have taken the time to just read our work. I get emotional and weepy every time someone comes up to tell me they've not only read their favourite Prism Knights story once but MULTIPLE times & thank me for even making this silly indulgent thing. aaaaaa I can't even put into words how it makes me feel.

We've been getting a lot of input from folks about PTTR & Augustine in the comments on their websites, and just getting asks from folks here on tumblr, excited for our newest step into our nautical Moby Dykes.

We're a mess, basically. Feeling really overwhelmed with love & appreciation, so thank you thank you for supporting our work, we try to keep things as accessible as we can by offering a lot of our work for free or as cheap as we can so that folks can experience the work that's made us who we are now <3

IDK where or how to end this. We're going to be at MCAF this last weekend in May (24-26) come say hi if you're around. Maybe Augustine will win the award its nominated for (waaaahh!!!)

Thank you all again, so so much ;v; <3

[comradeboyhalo]

It's crazy how literally everything about why Bad is fucked up can be linked to Atlantis. I don't even think the Federation is half of his trauma.

He lies compulsively about everything, but his whole identity is built on a lie. He's just made of lies. Yes, he lies because he's mischievous, but I don't think he can stop lying. He is so fearful of his past catching up to him, that, for 11,600 years, he's been lying about not being a demon. Telling someone what species you are is just introductory level knowledge. And Bad cannot even reveal that much to others. When we're starting with this much repression, is it really a surprise that he can't ever be truthful? And this, of course, all began because he's terrified that people will find out he destroyed a city.

He has a "family first" mindset that isn't exactly original, but it is unusually intense. He is very much the type to burn the world for his loved ones, and he's very willing to act on it. Every parent had heavily grieved the loss of their kids, and many of them unleash this grief in destructively. No parent has swung so far dark that they actively tortured another being. This is NOT to say Bad loves his children "more", this is only to prove that Bad's extreme is just so far removed from everyone else's. This can all stem from the fact that Bad's relationship with loss has, in my opinion, permanently fucked up the way he forms attachment.

So, everyone in Atlantis dies. Great. Bad tries to live. He forms friendship with more mortals. They die. He forms new friendships. They die again. This repeats for thousands of years. The only exception to this rule is Skeppy, and his relationship with Skeppy borders on co-dependency. His "obsession" with Skeppy feels so foreign to other islanders, and it should be from a mortal standpoint. But Bad has to be careful about who he lets in to avoid loss, so if he can love one person freely, then of course he will love them with everything. The same can be said for Dapper and Pomme. They're his children, and he loves them without any of the paranoia he subjects to anyone else. And then every single attachment gets taken away from him. He doesn't have an anchor anymore. It's not surprising he's forming an unhealthy dependency on Ron, and he's not going to give a fuck about anyone's feelings or morals if it means getting his family back.

The same can be said for his paranoia. He's overly paranoid because he was forcibly summoned to a place where everyone around him died. This is canon, confirmed by cc!Bad himself. He's been like this BEFORE getting dumped on murder mystery island! And if his paranoia is worsening because of the island, then of course his "worse" is going to feel drastically more intense than others'. Everything here is just validating pre-existing habits.

All of this is a cocktail for emotional disaster. Bad has been hard at work repressing everything for 11,000 years, and is losing everyone he uses to keep himself sane. I'm not even sure how he can heal from the loss of Dapper and Pomme, even if temporary, because he hasn't even begun to heal from Atlantis. It makes his friends' desperation to save him that much sadder. They're out of their depth with this one, the first step has to be made by Bad himself, and nothing he has done has convinced me that step will happen.

[chiscribbs]

Apocalypse Future Donnie Concepts

I wasn't actually planning on posting these until I had a definitive final design to share alongside them, but- It's probably going to be a while before that happens and I feel bad for how inactive this blog has been lately. I've been working on stuff, but only in-between projects, and none of it is really ready to post. So, here's a little something to prove that I am still alive. ❤

Donnie's design is so hard to update. It's just...so good in its simplicity??? Every element feels necessary to his character - so figuring out what to keep, what to get rid of, and what to change slightly is a definite challenge. It's even harder when we're given so little (canonical) information about what role he played in the Resistance and what effects the Krang Apocalypse may have had on him...including how long ago he was killed in relation to the movie. Or how he was killed, for that matter.

So, I'm playing around with some potential ideas and trying to get something that feels right - feels like Donnie, but if he had to adapt to the apocalypse (while also trying to stick to the show's simplistic, shape-heavy style, so nothing too terribly detailed or complex.) I'll share a few of these ideas below, for anyone who's interested.

(Also, yes - I know the spot-goatee is in no way an original concept, but I have a deep affection for it and had to include it in my design.)

One of the concepts I'm considering is giving Donnie a prosthetic leg, something to sort of parallel Leo with his Robo-Raph arm. But in Donnie's case, he probably lost his leg long before Raph was killed or maybe even before he built the robots of his family (maybe this serves as the inspiration or catalyst for the idea.) My working theory is that he was attempting to detonate a mine field full of some Krang dogs and something went wrong which caused him to get caught up in the resulting blast. He was lucky enough to keep his life, but lost his leg and probably some of his hearing in the process. Naturally, because it's Donnie (and because they're living through an apocalypse), the leg will be more than just a prosthetic limb - it'll have some kind of weaponry or technological capabilities built into it. Just haven't decided what that's going to be yet, lol.

I'm also toying with the idea of him creating some kind of "Ninpo Protection Device" - something to act as a defense mechanism against the Krang's mystic-cancelling (or, more accurately, locking) abilities. He's testing it on himself before green-lighting it to be used on his brothers (which, obviously, never happens.) The problem is I can't decide how to visibly convey this idea, I was thinking something along the lines of one of those medical aid devices that become permanent attachments to the user's body. But most of the visible parts of his body are covered in natural armor, save for his limbs and head. So figuring out the best placement for a thing like that has been a little challenging.

I was considering giving him a mechanical hand along with/in place of the robotic leg, as well. Reason being - he works primarily with his hands and almost never wears practical protection gear (another thing I tried to partially remedy with the addition of the gloves), so if any part of him is going to be lost, his hands would be the logical first choice. I also think there's a poetic element to the guy who relies on his tech becoming more and more "mechanical" himself (but only in the physical sense). It would also imply that there was a time when he couldn't work as efficiently on his own as he normally is able to, due to having one less hand, so there was likely an adjustment period wherein he had to lean into his mystic abilities (and the aid of others around him) far more than he's used to doing. A little background character development for him, because I love that kind of stuff.

These are about all of the definitive concepts I have for him at the moment, but obviously, I'm nowhere near having a finished design just yet. So, all of these could potentially be scrapped or tweaked in the final version.

If you read this far - kudos! And thanks for your interest! :>

[ashtraythief]

This is kind of a random question but with the election and Jensen supporting Harris, I saw a lot of people saying Dean would support Trump? Which… Yeah, no. Anyway Trump is a confirmed Leviathan in the Supernatural universe and Dean can’t vote because he’s a criminal.

But I am curious of how you think Dean would feel about politics? Kind of controversial, I know, so you don’t need to answer. But I feel like Dean holds a lot of liberal views about things like racial equality and LGBTQ rights. He’s overall just an accepting guy and I really can’t do a dude who fucks like that voting for a party that is banning/restricting porn. I’d imagine Dean would be so upset at that idea, man can’t lose his hentai porn. Obviously he’d be a big supporter of the 2nd amendment. I think Dean would definitely be for healthcare for poor people, but I have a hard time saying out right he’d be a liberal? So what are your thoughts on this? I know you aren’t American, but if you have any thoughts I’d love to know!

Ah, I'm not gonna lie, the political cluster fuck that was this week has not left me in the mood to give a comprehensive answer (on top of the US election, the German government broke apart so we're going to have elections in a few months and in the current political landscape that's not going to go the way I want, so... blergh)

Whatever thoughts I can scramble together under the cut

I think I mostly agree with your thoughts.

Even before Dean was dead he wouldn't have voted because where would he even be registered? It's not like he had a permanent place of residence. Also I think when you're hunting monsters and living off the grid, politics are not high on your list of priorities. (I think it was probably different for Sam when he was at Stanford and I can see him being excited to get registered and vote, do a "normal people" thing.) and the bigger the apocalypse issue got, the less important politics would seem.

I think the Trump support thing might come from a scene where Dean sees a picture with someone and says oh the Trumpster. God, that makes me cringe on rewatch but I'm pretty sure that aired before Trump ran for president. Maybe season ten? Episode Regarding Dean? That would have been 2014. As for the leviathan thing... Are you sure? Season 7 aired in 2011, way before Trump took office. And I don't think they showed up later? Though I am hazy on the later seasons lol.

I don't think Dean would have supported Trump for president, based on his character alone. Like Trump is objectively a dick, a racist misogynist who punches down and looks like he got a spray tan with orange juice. That is not the kind of guy Dean would respect. I think it's different when Trump was still an entertainer, but after he really showed his ass in politics... No. Dean would despise the guy. As for politics generally ... I don't think Dean would be a full blooded Democrat. I do agree he's very much a live and let live kind of guy but he'd definitely be a second amendment supporter (within reason) and he'd be pro the government staying out of people's lives. He'd definitely not want anyone interfering with his porn lol. Idk maybe he'd be more libertarian? Though I'm not that familiar with libertarian politics, so that's a guess. Idk I just don't see Dean caring much about politics because I don't think he concerns himself much with the system or has faith in it. I know it's kind of considered to be a moral failing not to be invested in politics, but Dean and Sam honestly have other stuff on their plate and I can understand not caring about a political system when you're barely hanging in there saving the world from total destruction. And they deal with enough politics between hell and heaven scheming for power. So I guess these are my very uncoordinated, exhausted thoughts on Dean and politics 😅

[the-firebird69]

And it is time to go to rest to sleep here because he's got to get up earlier we do have news

-have the ideas he has for money are not going to work they said we don't have any reason to get your money and they're all saying it no it's only a few people now and he says well that's a relief and Trump is one of them and he doesn't like you giving ideas to his people and our son says they're not your people kind of you're an a****** to them and they're probably going to get back to you when you're big mouth and what you just said and he's going to get beat up because of what he's saying and he's insane and doesn't care about his people and the truck idea was his so they're going to take his trucks and he has this elite guard and they're going to take them down and right now they said.

-in other news Terry cheesman is going after the idiot and his elite s*** is and they're not people like Woody and he's going after him with a bunch of stuff

-Dan two is going after him for doing stuff like that

-and he had Brian to sign these things we take the blame and he couldn't get anything else out here but they can make this stuff and the honeycomb is not that hard and they're moving on it and you put the few bolts in and it holds it together I like these big carriage balls and you seen them on trucks and tanks I'm pretty rugged in their titanium Ally and they're very sturdy and strong and they don't really break and it looks kind of rugged and if it wipes out it runs on those things a little on hard surfaces and it saves it from ripping apart. We've seen it many many times he's designed it real quick but it works and he designed the other one anyways when you see an aliens that's why it's low profile it works very well.

-couple more things we're tired of this idiot Trump and people are tired of him and he's going to be retired soon you don't want to listen to him and don't want to do what he wants people are putting out warnings not to listen to him and orders and his men are being shunned and some of them are decent but a lot of them are terrible terrible idiots

-it is a lot of time left now but we have a couple things the cops are running around trying to arrest people and are constantly bothering our son and need to take a break I'm going to start busting them a household gets killed off and generals going to their cop shoes and they're terrible people as they have less control and are horrendous as cops we got some of them swearing and her son at a distance and people are tell them to get lost and push them out and I'll see that they're instigating each other and just all of them are threatening our sun a whole bunch of people today and we're going through them tonight and they're different places off and on one of them is Friday the 13th and it's part 2 believe you're not and then Halloween and that's part two and they're going to get killed and they need to what's going on shortly there's a huge battle in the TC and social security here and social security in Florida all over the world and there has been since the first and it warms up and well it's very heated now these people are huge assholes to our son and they're getting crushed and I mean it right now this big armies going against Trump's elite losers and they're not elite they're just a pile of yakking fags, they're crushing it and all of the world is starting cuz they see it and they're taking them down and taking what they have and tell him to shut up as they're killing them permanently and going through their stuff getting rid of piles in them this is a good amount to them but they're not being compared to the army and the army is destroying them and most of the generals don't work for Trump anymore and they're not that horrendous idiot next door our son you along with him it doesn't get along with this guy. He doesn't like him he lives like a poor piece of s***. And nobody does because of that things are starting to change this huge attacks going on on the clones huge they're trying to get the ships and they need them bad massive attacks on the on the max they're at every single ship and Trump just got wiped out 10 times and they're like a million ships and they sent like a billion people each no it's it's hundreds of thousands and they're not going to be around very soon and it has a lunatic he thinks he's running things for some reason doesn't have any program is an actor out alone. And these attacks on the max are doubling almost every hour and they're increasing now right now they're up to about the 2% of the globes population and they're going to go to three or four in a few moments and it's getting bigger and bigger it's a giant Force and yeah nothing happened on Saturn and Dave's forces are formidable but the machines are not building as much as they could be because they're all infighting and he's fighting Carol some areas are defunct

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[deexchanel]

New York

Word Count: 2,655

Pairing: Avengers x BlackFem!Reader. Justice League x BlackFem!Reader but more specifically Clark Kent x BlackFem!Reader.

Warning: Arguing, mention of miscarriage, angst.

Summary: After not being in contact for so long, someone decides to make a visit.

A/N: The title has nothing to do with the one short. Oops. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy!😁 below is Y/N’s outfit for the first half.

A long day after helping the team on their mission, Y/N wanted some pizza. It was around 10 p.m. when she decided to leave the tower. Tony was asleep in the chair, Steve was asleep on the couch. Natasha and Bucky were on the floor watching a movie. Thor was rummaging through the refrigerator, he was watching the movie as well but stopped to get some snacks.

Loki was in the library reading a book. Peter was on patrol so that’s why she felt safe with being out so late. “Loki I’m leaving to get some pizza okay?” He closed his book, preparing to stand up.

“Alright, I’m going with you.”

Y/N placed a hand on his chest so he could stay sitting. “ I want to go by myself Loki. I’m going to be perfectly fine, Peter’s patrolling right now.”

Loki sigh trying to push down his overprotective feeling. “Alright, just be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Y/N hummed kissing his forehead, she then walked to the living. Everyone in their same position except Thor was now back on the floor.

Y/N kissed each of their foreheads, “I’m going to go get some pizza. Anyone wants anything?”

Natasha shook her head,“ No, be careful though. I really want to pause this good movie to save your ass.” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, grabbing her purse from the hook.

“Bring me back some pizza? I’m rather hungry.” Thor said with his eyes glued to the tv.

“You’re always hungry Thor. Bring me some too. Better yet, why don’t I just come.” Y/N heard shuffling from behind her. She wanted to take a peaceful by herself to get pizza, is that too hard to ask? “No Bucky, I want to go by myself. I can handle it.”

She turns around to see him looking at her hesitantly. “You sure Y/N? I don’t mind coming-”

“I got it, really. Go enjoy the movie Bucky. I’ll be right back.” Y/N cut him off, walking out of the door. Bucky stood there dumbfounded, “Is she acting weird or it’s just me?” He pointed to the door, looking at Natasha and Thor.

“She seems alright with me.” Natasha shrugged and Thor didn’t reply.

Y/N took a deep breath hearing the new york life sparkle in her ears. Taxis coming and going. The roar of the subway beneath Y/N’s feet. Everyone talking but still being able to hear your own conversation.

Lights flashing brightly, babies crying, the homeless constantly asking for money. The smell of 1,000 vendors, many selling gyros. Broadway fans going insane when their favorite cast member walks out of the stage door. People of every race, color, and religion.

“Finally,” Y/N mumbled after a good minute of walking, she arrived at the pizza store on the corner. She ordered and stood in line for 15 minutes then left with 5 boxes of pizza. Stopping at the park, Y/N sat on a bench eating pizza enjoying the night air.

Y/N was happy with life but sometimes a person just wants to be alone. A little part of her misses the old lifestyle she had. Bruce, Barry, Diane, Victor, and Arthur. She missed them so much, especially Clark but he was the last person she wanted to see.

They were old lovers, at one time there wasn't a thing Clark wouldn't do for Y/N. Time skip, Y/N found out she was pregnant but due to stress from Clark, she miscarried. No one knew because of the genuine smile she held on her face. He was probably so caught up with Lois to not notice that she'd been gone for a year now.

She loved Clark, Y/N was his best friend. Lois came into the picture and he dropped everything just for her. Heartbroken, Y/N came to new york searching for happiness. She found it in the avengers who she now calls family.

Today was the anniversary of her baby and she just wanted to be alone. She was alone when it happened so she rather be alone now. Y/N stared off into space not even hearing someone land beside her. You read right, land.

"Y/N?"

The deep voice took her out of her gaze. Y/N turned to see Clark in his superman attire. Shocked, she could barely get anything out. "...Clark??"

Clark's face held worry," Y/N..." Y/N furrow her eyebrow confused cutting him off.

"What are you doing here Clark?"

"I can't come to see you now? Y/N I haven't seen you in months."

"Clark I don't wanna talk about that right now. I want to know how did you know I was here??" Y/N stood up, placing her unfinished pizza in the box. She couldn't even enjoy alone time without being bothered.

"Bruce's been track you this whole time Y/N. Come home, we miss you. I miss you." He reached out for her hands. Surprisingly Y/N let him grab her hands. She shook her head.

"Clark I can't just leave. I have a life and family here. You have Lois now, that's who you need. Not me."

Clark looked down," She left me Y/N. Lois said me being superman was too much."Y/N sigh knowing how to hurt he was. Yes, she was mad at him but sometimes not everything needs a reaction. Keeping it calm, she gave him a hug.

"I'm so sorry Clark, I should've been there for you."

Clark held her close smelling her wonderful smell of lavender. "It's okay Y/N. I know this life is treating you well."

Y/N could feel that it was getting late. "Clark I have to go, but I do have to ask you something." He pulled back glazing into her brown eyes.

"What is it Y/N?"

"Tomorrow evening bring the team to the tower. I want everyone to meet each other. I'll cook! It'll be so much fun."

Clark looked at her with hesitation, "I don't know Y/N.."

Y/N gave him the puppy dog eyes, "Please Clark? You get to see me in a nice outfit." He smiled giving in.

"Oh alright."

-------

"A little bit of this," Y/N murmured pouring grated cheese on top of the macaroni. She placed it in the oven, closing the door with her butt. Dinner consisted of steak with tarragon mushrooms with a side of macaroni. Y/N had been in the kitchen all day while the team did their overview with Fury for missions they have done.

"Smells amazing in here Y/N! What you make?" Steve's voice came from behind while she grabbed plates out of the cabinet. "Food Steve. You'll see when it's dinner time and if you don't mind, can you help me set the table?"

Steve nodded his head with a smile, "Sure I don't mind Y/N." The two joked around while they set the table. Clark and everyone were to be here in about 20 minutes. When she got home from the park last night, Y/N told the avengers about this evening dinner, and boy it was some weird faces.

She didn't know who was harder to convince, Tony or Steve. Maybe because they had been on the team longer. Once finished Y/N ushered Steve to go get dressed. She was so caught up with finishing the meal, that she didn't check the time. "Fuck!"

It was 10 minutes until Clark and the rest got there. She was nowhere near ready. "Y/N why aren't you ready?" Tony asked in disbelief when he walked into the kitchen. Y/N pulled at her hair.

"I know, I know! I was too caught up in finishing the steaks. Can you watch the food so it won't burn? please?"

Tony sigh,"If that makes you get dressed faster then I'll watch it." He opened the lid, the food smelled amazing. "Yeah hurry up, this smells good. I'm ready to eat."

"Thank you!" She kissed his cheek, rushing past so can get dressed.

---------

"Y/N they're here!" Steve called up the stairs. Y/N hopped around on one foot trying to put on the other boot. When it finally slid on her foot, she stood in front of a mirror taking a deep breath. She wanted all her favorite people to come together and be her support. To make her forget about the pain she went through a year ago yesterday.

Y/N walked downstairs with all eyes on her. Clark's mouth was agape from how good she looked. "Arthur! Diana! I've missed you guys!" Y/N hugged her with passion.

"Me too. You look beautiful." Diana hugged her back. Y/N moved towards Arthur giving him a hug. "Thank you."

"Yeah you look too good, don't make me have to beat anyone up from looking too hard." Thor snorted which made Arthur glance at him for a second. Y/N moved to Bruce.

"I hope you're doing good Bruce other than Barry getting on your nerves."

"Hey!" Barry said in defense.

"I'm good, just missed having you around."Bruce expressed which kinda shocked Y/N because he wasn't so open. She then gave Victor and Barry a hug. "I've missed you, two knuckleheads, together."

"We've missed you too." Victor smiled.

"What are we eating, it smells so good in here," Barry said excitedly. Y/N laughing gesturing towards the dining table. "We're about to find out, let's eat!"

Everyone cheered a bit sitting at the table, you know they didn't mingle but sat on the opposite side. Y/N walked over to the stove trying to bring the food to the table but Natasha stopped her.

"I got it Y/N, go sit down. You've been on your feet all day, I can bring the food to the table." Natasha grabbed the glass casserole dish out of her hand. She wasn't lying about her feet hurting but Y/N wasn't going to admit it.

Y/N sigh, "Fine, I'm bringing the champagne to the table though." She hurriedly grabbed two bottles of champagne before Natasha could protest. She definitely needed a sip before dealing with two rival heroes.

----------

There were conversations here and there but most of Y/N. She had all her favorite people in one room. Dinner was running smoothly until...

"So Y/N, Clark told us that you were coming back to stay permanently. I'm excited to have you back." Barry used his knife to cut the steak. Y/N didn't know who to look at crazy him or Clark. She could feel the hard glaze from Bucky.

"What's speedy boy talking about Y/N?" Tony asked tilting his head. Steve sat down his knife.

"Yes please do explain."

"I uh haven't said anything like that. I had planned on visiting, it wasn't official." Y/N scratched her arm out of nervousness from all eyes on her.

"I knew I wasn't going insane. Y/N wasn't going to go back permanently, she's not that crazy." Thor chuckled drinking his champagne.

Victor glanced at him sideways."What's that supposed to mean? Y/N wouldn't be crazy if she came back permanently. That's honestly the perfect decision if she does."

"Guys.." Y/N trailed off but was ignored by everyone. "Y/N is right where she belongs. Do I need to say more?" Loki wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"If she wants to come back permanently then she can. Y/N's only been with you guys for what ? a year? She's been with us forever so you know who she's going to choose." Arthur leaned back in the seat.

"Sure fish boy." Tony let his smart mouth get the best of him. Y/N took a sip of her champagne to calm her nerves.

"Guys..."

She was ignored again. "Y/N is coming with us and that's final. That's the only reason why I came to this wretched place was for her." Clark crossed his arm and Bucky narrowed his eyes at him.

"She's not going anywhere with you. I stand on that."

"Barnes right, you think I was going to let her leave with you after what you did? That's really funny." Natasha chugged the rest of her champagne down. Y/N winced at what she said.

"Guys please."

"Does that matter? Y/N is coming whether you like it or not." Bruce said setting his fork down. Diana nodded in agreement.

"I don't have to anything. Just know I'm not going down without a fight?"

"You people are so petty and tiny." Thor laughed using his fingers to indicate how small they were.

"If Y/N doesn't want to leave she isn't going to leave. it's her decision." Steve sat forward in his seat. They were getting louder by the minute.

"She isn't going, you weaklings," Loki growled sitting forward in his seat as well, not taking eyes off Arthur. Both Clark and Bucky held an intense stare.

"We should go few rounds." Tony stood up and so did Bruce.

"Let's do it then Stark."

Y/N chugged down the rest of the champagne. "Stop." The argument between them grew louder. "Stop!" Y/N stood up placing her hands on the table, no one noticed.

She slammed her hands against the table. "STOP! JUST STOP IT!" Everyone stared at her in shock.

"ENOUGH WITH THIS! I brought you altogether because I wanted support. I needed support."Y/N gritted through her teeth, tears welling in her eyes. "The one time I step out, you all can't even put your petty egos aside. I don't care who I'm staying with and I don't fucking know why it's an argument. I just wanted it to be a normal night."

Y/N lips trembled as she cried, "I can't hold on to this no longer. I was pregnant before I left Clark. I lost the baby. I lost it the day I went to find out the gender." Clark squeezed his eyes closed, his heart broke hearing the news. "And I hate myself so much for even letting myself stress so much that I lost it. When it happened I was alone. I didn't have you, Bruce, or Diana. I didn't have no one. I came to New York heartbroken."

She looked at the Avengers, they held a sad face. Natasha's cheeks were coated with tears."You guys mended my broken heart. You made me feel welcome and I don't know how I could ever repay you." Y/N wiped her tears.

"But I can't deal with this between all of you. I'm leaving so you can have your big ego contest."

She slid the chair back, walking to the elevator. "Y/N!" Bucky called for her but she ignored him. "Shit!" Clark curses under his breath getting up from the chair. Tony shook his head at him.

"Leave her be Clark. She probably went up to the roof or to the park for fresh air."

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

Y/N sat in the chair at the airport. She was only going out of the country for a couple of days just to clear her mind. Bruce and Tony have been blowing up her phone none stop. She was tired and waiting on her flight to be called. "Ugh, I'm so tired." She mumbled rubbing her temple. She got up going to the bathroom.

It was oddly quiet until she heard panicked screams. "What?" She murmured looking over her shoulder. Parademons were everywhere. Y/N scrambled to grab her phone trying to be quiet. She slid down the wall, covering her mouth trying to contain her breathing so she wouldn't be heard. The vibration from her phone caught one of their attention and she didn't know.

Still scrambling, Y/N declined the call somehow. She knew she was fucked, tears raced down her melanin cheeks as she held her breath. The parademons appeared beside Y/N, one inspected making sure she was the right one. It snatched Y/N up and she screamed.

"CLARK!"

--------

The two teams were either sitting around or cleaning up. Clark stood in front of the wet dishes drying them off while Bucky cleaned them. He froze hearing Y/N scream in his ears. Diana noticed and instantly spoke up.

"What is Clark? What's wrong?"

"Y/N's been kidnapped."

-------

Omg, I feel like this is so weird😂😂😂. I am going to make a part 2 I just gotta think about how it's going to go. I have a busy weekend ahead so I won't update until Monday.

Yk i had to make Y/N damsel in distress 😉. Clark is her lover but Bucky does like her. This is kinda a part 2 of Vacation. I love Marvel and DC so why not put them together 😁!

I hope you guys enjoyed this weird post even though the title has nothing to do with the plot of the story, I just couldn't think of anything 😂😂.

Stay slutty my friends 💜

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Saving the world (Double booking pt 2)

I was asked to write a second part, and as inspiration struck, well… here it is.

They've shared a room. Now what?

If you like it, let me know :D

Word count: 5655

Part 1

_______________________________________________________________________

The light is seeping under the curtains, dragging you back to the conscious world, but you're not ready to get up just yet. So you squeeze your eyes shut and stretch your back. It's stiff as a board, and your cheek has seemingly set in a permanently squished position. The room feels stuffy and warm, and there's a soft noise you don't recognise at first. But when you finally open your eyes, you can't help but smile.

Everything's a bit blurry without your glasses, but there's no mistaking the man sleeping in the bed next to yours. His arm, which you suddenly notice isn't gloved, but a prosthetic, is hanging over the edge of the bed, and if you strain your imagination, it's almost stretched towards you.

It looks like he hasn't moved at all during the night. Neither have you when you come to think of it. When you stretch again, your neck cracks as if you were eighty, and it's a struggle to lift one leg over the other, though that might just be that you're still half asleep.

As you fumble for your glasses, Bucky opens his eyes and gives you a sleepy smile. "Good morning."

Your heart skips a beat, and it's as if you've forgotten all suitable responses to such an innocent greeting. "Yeah." That's what comes out of your mouth, and you groan.

"You sleep good?" He yawns and props up on his elbow.

"Mhm. Like a baby."

"Me too."

You grin and roll over on your back just as the loudest growl erupts from your stomach. Heat creeps up your neck and ears, and you mutter a soft "Sorry."

Bucky laughs. "Don't apologise for being hungry. What do you say we go get some breakfast?"

"I could eat."

After a quick shower and a couple of frustrating minutes picking an outfit, you really don't want to look like a slob in front of Bucky, you're both seated in the restaurant, devouring the bacon and eggs like your lives depend on it.

The conversation is light. You're slowly getting to know each other. "I'm freelancing for the government," Bucky says and gulps down his orange juice. "It's all really boring, though."

You nod and stuff your mouth with bacon. "I'm sure it isn't. But paperwork, am I right?" you add with a chuckle.

Nodding, he wipes his mouth and takes another bite. "Mhm. How about you?"

"Oh, it's not very interesting. I freelance too, I guess. Right now I've been hired to design a calendar with paintings from the city. It's not well paid, but it's fun."

"So you're an artist? May I see some of your work?"

Suddenly you feel a bit self-conscious. That's weird. You haven't had doubts about your art in forever. "I've got some photos in my phone." You hesitate for a second, then fish it out and unlock it. Scrolling down, you find the series of paintings you did last spring. Green and lush, you get a pang of longing for the fresh air and colourful flowers. The contrast is vast from the grey city.

"Wow, these are good!" Bucky exclaims and starts gushing over your lines and colour and the composition, and you feel your ego inflating with every word. All you can do is sit there with a stupid grin on your face, and a pulsing heat in your cheeks, while he builds you up like he's a professional.

You've totally forgotten the time when the staff tells you that the restaurant, unfortunately, is closed now, but that you're welcome back for dinner later. With many an apology, the two of you get up and head to the lobby, where you stay, talking for almost an hour before you remember why you are here in the first place.

"Sorry," you say, and mean it. "I need to get some work done before the light goes. I was thinking of heading down to the harbour today. See if the water can inspire me."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess." Bucky looks down on his feet and gives you a small smile. Then he looks up again, his eyes shining, competing with the glorious smile that grows on his lips. "Do you mind if I come with you? I mean… you don't have to say yes, I just…"

"No, of course." You're relieved that he asked, letting you out of asking him yourself. "Some company would be lovely. Just gotta get my stuff. Meet you back here in ten minutes?"

He nods and sighs almost imperceptibly once you've turned away, watching as you almost skip towards the elevator. A tiny voice in the back of his head warns him that he has tripped and is going to fall hard if he doesn't get a grip soon, but he ignores it. The feeling is too pleasant to care just now.

The next few days you establish a routine of sorts. Bucky knocks on your door, asks to sleep next to you, you say yes, and you wake up, turned towards each other. After breakfast, you head out into the city, sometimes he's leading the way, sometimes you have a plan, and you spend the day drawing and talking and without realising it, falling hard for him. Every evening you have dinner in one of the restaurants near the hotel, and every evening you forget what is happening around you, and all you can focus on is Bucky.

_____________________________________________________________________

The sun is shining. A bird is singing in the tree behind you. You can barely hear the traffic from the road outside the park. Bucky is lounging on the grass, chewing on a straw, and you've been drawing him in secret for the past two hours, your original subject completely forgotten and rejected. When he looks up at you, his face is filled with happiness. "This is nice," he says, careful to mask his full joy.

"Yes, it is," you reply, quickly hiding the drawing under a sketch of the bridge and skyline.

He sits up and looks like he wants to say something, but he closes his mouth instead. After a small pause, he gets up and holds out his hand. "Let's go grab something to eat."

"Okay," you whisper, breathless from the feel of his hand in yours. "Lead the way."

He takes you to a small café at the edge of the park, explaining that it's famous for its fries, and they've got the bestdipping sauce, you just have to try it.

You're in the middle of the meal, laughing at a joke, when a shadow interrupts. Looking up, you hear Bucky mutter a curse under his breath, and you feel a pinprick of fear in your neck. He's glaring at the stranger, and the stranger surprisingly returns the look.

"Um…" You look between Bucky, sat at the table with a curly fry sticking out from the corner of his mouth, staring daggers, to the man who just interrupted your lunch. The truth smacks you in the head with force. Holy shit! That's Captain America. Captain freaking America! And it slowly dawns on you who Bucky really is.

The glass you just picked up slides back to the table, sprite sloshing over the sides as it hits, but you don't realise your hand is cold and wet. All you can focus on is that your roommate for the last week is… Bucky Barnes, AKA The Winter Soldier. Yeah. You try very hard to swallow the food in your mouth, but it's so dry, and forcing it makes your throat ache.

Said soldier quickly chews the curly fry and swallows thickly. "What do you want, Sam?"

Sam hands him a pad, and upon reading the contents, Bucky's frown deepens.

"It's very nice to meet you," Sam says, his shining smile lighting up the whole room. "I'm Sam, by the way."

"Y/N," you reply, still unaware that the hand you're using to shake Captain America's hand with is wet and slightly sticky. Actually, you're kinda unaware of your surroundings altogether.

Sam laughs, making Bucky look up from the message, scowls at Sam, then returns to his reading. "So you're the one who's keeping Bucky busy, huh?" He winks, and you feel that heat creeping up the back of your neck. "From the look on your face, I'd say you didn't know who you're having lunch with, right?"

You nod, squeaking a confirmation.

Sam laughs. "I thought after the whole Flag Smashers case, everybody knew who Bucky was."

Your ears burn, and you breathe a little faster now. Of course, you've been to the exhibit at the Smithsonian, and of course you know about Steve Rogers' best friend, it just never connected in your brain that this super sweet man is a WWII hero and assassin.

Your eyes flick from his prosthetic arm and up to his face. "Uh… I'm just not super into the whole celebrity thing?" you offer, blurting out the first thing that pops into your head.

Snickering, Sam turns to Bucky. "And you didn't tell her?" There's a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Bucky picks on a stain on the table before setting up a defiant face. "It didn't come up." And he wants to add And by the way, how do you go about saying Oh, and FYI I'm a former assassin and murderer, to a woman you really want to get to know better?

He looks so uncomfortable, you get a strong urge to hug him, but now you're uncertain of all this. What if the two of you are against the rules? Wait, what are you, really? Friends? Accidental roommates? You like Bucky. You really like Bucky, and you had kinda hoped it would grow into something… more, but now… Swallowing the lump in the back of your throat – that was an unexpected reaction – you smile flatly. "Are, are you allowed to, to… I mean, can you be friends with…" You swallow again. "Civilians?"

Sam's eyes widen for a split second, and somehow you feel as though he can see right through you. Then he laughs, and all the tension around the table dissipates. "Of course. We're human, Bucky's human, as difficult as that is to believe. Of course we're allowed to have friends, relationships, family. Wouldn't be much of a life without it, would it? But expect them to do a background check on you, hell, they probably already know what you ate for dinner on your twelfth birthday."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I'm afraid I have to whisk your boyfriend away for a while. There's a situation."

"We're… we're not…" You have to admit that thought feels good, but really, any hope you had has been well and truly smashed.

Bucky gets up and smacks the pad at Sam. "I'll see you later?"

"I'll be here," you reply with fake confidence. "Please be safe. Both of you," you add with a small smile.

"You too," Bucky says softly. "Be careful if you go out after dark. It's not as safe as you think here."

That makes you snort. "It's me. I don't even like people, what am I supposed to do outside after dark, huh? Don't worry. I'll probably stay in my room and paint all day anyway."

He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "good", but it's hard to hear over Sam. "I'll take care of him," he laughs, ducking under Bucky's hand as he swats at his head. "Come on, Buck. Let's roll."

"Be safe," you mutter again, looking after them as they head to the black, unmarked car waiting by the flower shop on the corner. It's as if all colour drains from your vision.

_______________________________________________________________________

The first sip of coffee feels divine; just what you need to wake up after spending another night without Bucky. It has been another restless night. You tossed and turned and couldn't settle properly. And the dreams… You'd rather not think about them. Never before has your brain produced such chaotic absurdities, such eldritch horrors, but to be honest you're not really surprised. Sleeping next to Bucky; something just clicked. You smile into your cup, feeling calmer just thinking about it. It's weird how quickly you got used to his presence, and how wrong it feels when he isn't there.

But you don't get to enjoy your drink for long. Before you've even finished the second sip, someone shoves you hard from behind. The coffee spills over the sidewalk, painting the concrete and splashing all over your shoes. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" you bark, turning to confront whoever pushed you. But before you can even see them, they pull a bag over your head.

Panic rises in you, and you scream until your throat feels raw. Someone smacks you across the mouth, and the shock and pain shuts you up. Your lip thumps: it's split, you can taste the blood now. Tears stream down your cheeks, the soft fabric of the bag clings to your skin. Feeling the darkness caress your mind, the world starts folding in over itself. Still you possess enough awareness to kick the person holding you. They yelp and swear, resulting in a sharp rap over your ear. Your head is ringing.

A pair of strong arms pick you up as if you weigh nothing, and haul you along, struggling with your flailing arms and legs. There's a metallic clang, like a van door opening, then you're half lifted, half pulled up, all while screaming and cursing, hoping someone – anyone – will hear.

Someone speaks a language you don't recognise; your sleeve is pushed up and there's a sharp prick in your arm. Seconds later your brain starts spinning. The faint light that seeps through the weaving of the bag blinks like a starry sky.

You sway back and forth, feeling off kilter and fuzzy, as the voices around you grow all garbled and muted. Someone pushes you backwards, but before you hit the floor, you're out. As the world fades from your consciousness, you just wish you could have seen Bucky one more time.

When you come to, your head is pounding, your mouth is dry, and everything is dark. You try to move, but your hands are shackled, and your feet are bound to whatever you're sitting on. At least you're right side up, you think, before the situation dawns on you, and the contents of your stomach threatens to make an appearance. You swallow thickly. God, your mouth is so dry. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, and there's not enough liquid to even wet your lips. All you can do is grimace, feeling how they crack and pop. It stings. The taste of metallic, rusty blood coats your tongue.

Your throat itches, so much so that you can't even speak, but you can cough. Hard, like explosions in your head, and it's enough for you to lose your breath.

Something floppy is shoved into your hands.

"It's upside down, you idiot!" someone shouts, and the paper is turned.

Panic surges through your body, and your throat constricts, increasing your coughing. Your heart is racing, but everything happens so fast you just can't process it. Someone removes the bag from your head. The light burns in your eyes, and the shock stops your coughing instantly. Everything is white. There's voices, and movement, but you can't see anything clearly, and for a moment you wonder if you've lost your contact lenses. Slowly your vision returns, but they all keep to the shadows, and they've covered their faces, so you can't make out any details. The buzzing in your ears almost drown out every sound in the room.

"Look straight ahead," they command, and by some miracle you actually manage to move your head. "Keep your eyes open. Ready!"

There's a bright flash, someone else yells "Got it!" and then, in a flurry of motions you're untied, dragged through a dark hallway and unceremoniously dropped on the floor. The door clangs ominously behind you, and you freeze, waiting for someone to grab you or hurt you. There's no one in the room, but you remain in the floor, rubbing your wrists and trying to calm your breathing.

It's cold in your cell, room, whatever people call it, but at least you've got a blanket, and they've fed you, so there's that. But no matter how many times you've asked, nobody tells you anything.

You're over the initial shock now, and the fear has begun to settle into anger, but you're too numb to react.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this to me? I'm no one, never been important in my whole life, hey, someone please say something." Silence. You bang on the door, not sure what you're hoping for. In the back of your mind you know it's risky, but you need to know. The silence is making the walls come closer. You lick your lip. It's bleeding again.

You figure your friendship with Bucky has something to do with your current predicament, but you're not sure exactly what they hope to achieve. It's not like you're best friends or anything, but maybe what you have is enough for him to come for you. That thought sends an electric jolt straight to the small of your back. For a moment you allow yourself to hope, to imagine him blasting through the door and marching in with murder in his eyes, angels singing, and the light surrounding him like a halo.

You laugh grimly. What are even the odds of him finding out where you are? Does he even care? He is the Winter Soldier, after all. He's probably got better things to do, he's busy saving the world, no doubt.

_______________________________________________________________________

Bucky smiles as he walks through the hallway, the ugly carpet muting the urgency in his steps. He can't wait to see you again. It's only been four days, but it feels like forever so the moment he got the all-clear after mission report, he made Sam drop him off at your hotel.

A short walk later he's standing outside your room, heart in his throat and arm outstretched, ready to knock. His stomach dances, pure happiness courses through him. It's been so long since he felt like this; he swears he can almost feel it in his metal arm.

A soft knock. No answer. He knocks again, harder this time. Still no answer. It's only a few minutes past eleven, you won't be asleep yet. You never fall asleep before midnight.

Suddenly it's like someone's poured a bucket of ice water over him. Putting an ear against the door, he listens like some kind of creep, but the room is silent. Maybe you're out. But that doesn't make sense either. It's too dark to get any proper work done, and you're not one for night clubs, or so you've said. Could you have checked out? Bucky's heart skips a beat. What if you're gone? But… wouldn't you at least have left him a message?

Turning on his heel, he marches back to the elevator as if he's got the devil on his tail. There's a really nasty feeling growing in his gut, something he just can't afford to think about now.

He presses the elevator button multiple times, but it takes its sweet time, so instead, he heads to the stairs, taking several steps at once, then skips the steps altogether and jumps over the railing, landing with a heavy thud on the ground floor.

There's a tenseness to his stride as he walks to the front desk, feeling more and more anxious with every breath. He never thought he'd feel this way again; that pit in his stomach and the growing stone in his chest. Last time, he was on a plane, heading for Italy in 1943, not knowing what was waiting for him.

"Excuse me," he says, rather gruffly, spooking the receptionist, though how she didn't hear him stomping through the lobby is a mystery. His own ears buzz loudly, and it's a miracle he can hear her at all.

"Good evening. How may I help you?" She smiles in that professional way people do when they're interrupted and don't really want to talk.

Bucky glances at the reflection in the glass wall behind her. Solitaire. He shakes his head to clear it a bit. "Um, yeah. Is there a message for me? For James Barnes or maybe Bucky."

She looks through the papers on the desk and shakes her head. "Sorry."

He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. "Okay. Don't suppose you could tell me if Y/N has checked out of room 508?" His brows furrow, but he tries to smile anyway.

Another head shake. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm not allowed to disclose that kind of information." She looks briefly at her screen, then back up at Bucky, fake smile plastered on her face.

Bucky bites his tongue and swallows the rage that's building in him. It's not the receptionist's fault. She doesn't understand. But then he gets an idea. "Right, of course," he says, making his voice sweeter. "But maybe you will allow me to leave her a message?"

"Certainly. Let me grab a pen and paper for you."

So you haven't checked out. From the look on her face, the receptionist doesn't realise she's confirmed his suspicions. Well, he'll leave a message just in case, but it's time for drastic measures.

Outside it's dark now. Low clouds are threatening with rain. No one sees the dark figure slipping around the corner and jumping to grab the lowest rung of the fire ladder. Bucky easily hoists himself up, and climbs to the fifth floor, keeping to the shadows and making as little noise as possible. He knows where the window to your room is, and in less than a minute he's standing on the tiny balcony, peering in.

The room looks untouched. The bed is made, your stuff is all there. There's an almost finished portrait on the sketch pad on the desk; a smiling, content picture of himself. Nothing is missing except you. Bucky is three seconds from losing it.

A cold raindrop hits the back of his neck, drawing him from his haze. Soon the sky has opened up, and he's blasted with icy water. It soaks through his jeans, and drips from his hair into his eyes. Without looking back, he slides down the fire ladder and lands in a puddle. He doesn't know what to do next. Maybe Sam knows, so he ducks back into the hotel to get out of the rain, but before he can make the call, he's interrupted by the receptionist.

"Mr Barnes, I apologise. I didn't see this before. Someone left this for you." The woman hands him a large, brown envelope. All of a sudden he's transported back in time; drowning in flashes of memories of past missions, but he shakes himself out of it. Leaning on the column by the door, he opens the envelope.

There's nothing in there but a photo. It makes his stomach turn, and for the first time since he's been free, he has to fight the rage of the Winter Soldier, expanding, threatening to explode and send him on a vengeance fuelled killing spree. "When? Do you know who delivered it?" His voice is darker than usual, and the woman steps back just from the sound.

"I'm sorry," she squeaks. "It's been here for a couple of days, I think. I wasn't here when it was delivered." She hurries back behind her counter, putting a safe distance between them.

Bucky adjusts his stance, and forces his voice to sound kinder. "Thank you. Is there somewhere I can make a phone call, undisturbed?"

She nods and points to a nook behind the oversized fern in the corner. There's a sliding glass door that will provide some privacy.

Turning the envelope over in his left hand, Bucky is careful to not leave any more fingerprints on it. It is unmarked, but he knows people who can read things that no one else can see.

Whipping out his phone, he dials the first number in the contact list. He doesn't realise it, but he's shaking. The four seconds it takes for Sam to pick up are an excruciating eternity, and Bucky grips the door handle to keep himself from running off without a plan.

Before he can even say hello, Bucky wheezes: "They've got her, Sam!"

"Who?"

"Y/N! They've taken her!" He closes his eyes. The photo has burned into his mind.

"I'm on my way."

Bucky relaxes his grip on the door. There's a dent in the metal, and that makes him even angrier. They've made him lose control. He curses as he exits the tiny room, pacing over the floor, waiting for the voice of reason to arrive.

Being Sam, being Captain America, opens a lot of doors, so when he shows up at the hotel, requesting to look through the surveillance tapes – though it really is a demand; he's got a way with words, Bucky muses, thinking back to when he realised that what he first took as being soft, really isn't soft at all. Anyway, they all fawn over each other, fighting to be the one to give Cap access. Bucky can hardly watch.

"Give us a few minutes," Sam says with a smile, settling in front of the computer.

"Of course." The manager bows and closes the door.

Then Sam turns to Bucky. "Okay. When did you see her last?"

"Four days ago, right before we left on that goddamn mission." He wants to beat himself that he exposed you to danger, and he resists the urge to take out his irritation by slapping Sam over the head. Instead he settles on a flat, emotionless that he hopes conveys all his frustration.

"Right, so somewhere after last Thursday, then." Sam pushes a button, selects the right floor and presses play. Nothing happens for a while, and he pushes a new button, making the footage speed up.

"There!" Bucky shouts, pointing at the screen. There you are. Leaving your room with a large bag over your shoulder. Bucky smiles in spite of his fear. A soft expression on your face and your trusty art supplies at your side. Everything looks normal.

Fast forwarding through the footage, nothing out of the ordinary happens. You return around seven, looking a little bit tired, but happy enough. Food is brought to your room an hour later, and you don't go out again that night.

"Sensible girl," Sam comments, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. But she didn't know how much danger she was in."

The night passes in a blur. A drunk couple stumbles through the hallway around two in the morning, but other than that it's quiet, until you leave again around 10am, again with your bag over your shoulder. You look tired, yawning and dragging your feet. The bounce in your step is gone, Bucky notices, and he wonders if it has anything to do with your abduction.

They keep fast forwarding, but when the time stamp shows 11.30pm, Bucky's chest plummets. He knows you're not coming back.

Sam looks at him. “Calm down, man. You look like you’re about to explode!” he hisses, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky shakes him off and glares. “Because I’m this close.”

“But that won’t do her any good, will it? We gotta keep our cool, don’t do anything rash.” Sam's voice is still calm. Bucky doesn't know how he does it.

"Fine." Bucky takes a deep breath, just how his therapist taught him. "Show me what direction she went."

Sam clicks and drags the front camera onto the screen. You stop outside for a few minutes, then head down the street towards the city centre. They follow you on the screen until you disappear from view.

There's a shoe shop on the corner where you turned, so after thanking the hotel manager for the help, they follow your moves through the city. The shoe shop doesn't have a quality video, but it's enough to recognise you. Tracking you through the streets feels like an endurance hunt, Bucky thinks, impatient to find out who took you and where you are. That's all he can focus on: to get you back. And god have mercy on your kidnappers if you're not okay. Eventually Sam and Bucky stop at a small restaurant, but they don't have surveillance at all.

"Okay. Let's head to that Starbucks," Bucky says, nodding across the road. "They're bound to have surveillance, right?"

Sam rolls his shoulders. "Let's go."

The video shows three large figures, lurking in the shadows in one of the side streets. They're watching as you enter the café, and when you exit with a large coffee in hand, the gang is ready. The footage jumps a bit, but it captures the terror in your face, and Bucky feels like throwing up. You're hauled into a waiting van, it's an unmarked, normal van, but as it speeds away, luck strikes. The camera got a clear shot of the number plate.

Bucky lets Sam handle the rest. He can't shake the guilt, the pit in his stomach that grows larger and larger. And his anger grows too. Why didn't anybody react, nobody can convince him that nobody heard or saw anything. He watches as Sam talks on the phone, already mentally punching your kidnappers to a pulp. The metal arm flexes involuntarily.

Sam puts down the phone and turns to Bucky. "Okay, so here's what they told me: The van isn't connected to anything, they didn't even have a name for me. It's probably a fake number plate. But they said it's been spotted driving to and from a warehouse not too far from here. Let's go suit up while we're waiting for the address."

Bucky exhales. They better hurry up with the address. You've been in captivity for far too long already.

_______________________________________________________________________

It's quiet in the building now. You don't know what time it is; they've taken all your stuff, but you know it's late. Your eyes sting, both from exhaustion and from wanting to cry, not to mention your contacts are getting dry, but you refuse to remove them – not being able to see would terrify you. But neither sleep nor tears come. Sitting on the cot, wrapped in the blanket they thankfully provided, you are too wound up to relax enough to sleep. What if someone comes in while you're out? There's not much chance to defend yourself, but at least if you're awake  you can try to put up a fight.

How long have you been here? It's hard to tell. After the first shock they've pretty much left you alone. Except for the interrogation a few hours later. They kept asking you about where Bucky is, what he's doing, details on his mission, but you told them, truthfully, that you don't know anything. And they seem to believe you. But they still won't let you go. You sigh and pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders. Even if you knew everything you wouldn't have told them anything, but you didn't say that out loud.

Suddenly there's a loud bang reverberating through the walls. Instinctively you flinch, trying to make yourself smaller. Your blood roar in your ears, and it feels like your heart is trying to beat its way through your rib cage. There's a pause – the silence is deafening, then someone yells. You hear gunshots. Heavy boots rush past your door. It's torture just listening to the fight, not knowing what will happen. What if there's a fire? Or what if you're abandoned here? Is this how you're gonna die?

The fight is getting closer. You drag the blanket over your head, locking your arms around your neck. Unfortunately it doesn't mute the sounds, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. Slowly the fight dies down, and for a moment everything is calm. You feel woozy, grateful that you're already sitting down, and you steel yourself for what comes next.

The door opens. Heavy boots slaps against the hard floor. Someone blocks out the light, and you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, making you flinch and whimper.

A soft voice whispers in your ear. "Y/N?"

You forget to breathe again.

"Y/N," the voice repeats, coaxing you out of your makeshift cocoon.

You look up, and into the eyes of the man you never thought you'd see again. His face is blood-spattered, and his expression is a murderous rage, but the moment your eyes meet, he softens. "Bucky," you breathe, folding yourself out, and reaching for him like a toddler.

He scoops you up, holding you close as you begin to sob into his neck, and he rocks you back and forth until you calm a bit. "Are you hurt?"

Shaking your head, you climb down from his lap and looks over at Sam, hovering by the door. There's a look in his eyes that you can't quite decipher.

"You're bleeding," Bucky says, touching your lip gingerly.

"Oh." You don't know what else to say, as he helps you up on your feet. His arm stays around your shoulders all the way out into open air, and you lean into his embrace. The building is littered with bodies, some are definitely dead, others are being detained by soldiers dressed in black. Your knees buckle from the sight.

"Hey, I've got you," Bucky murmurs into your hair.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For coming to get me."

"Of course," Sam says, offering you a reassuring smile. "Why shouldn't we?"

You exhale shakily through your nose. "I thought you were busy saving the world and all."

Bucky pulls you closer.

"Don't you know?" Sam asks quietly, so no one else can hear. "You are his world."

_______________________________________________________________________

@schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte

[mantra4ia]

Debris: speculation and what we know so far about...

Bryan

The character is from Texas, has no siblings, and his parents are both alive.

He served in MARSOC (Marine Special Forces) in Afghanistan, where he was in a military prison in some capacity (officer or detainee unclear, but an alternate reality he's called a war criminal, so he's likely detained).

FWIW, I'm a little surprised that in an alternative reality Bryan wasn't a part of Influx. He shares a similar kind of backstory with Anson Ash.

He carries a baseball on the plane like a momento stress ball (1x03).

He eats...a lot, literally thinks with his stomach, seemingly indiscriminately (#you could just pull up a chair to the buffet). Stale Peeps, weeks old sandwiches, rewarmed burritos, anything from the minibar, etc. Maybe he was a smoker in the time before and it killed his sense of taste. Or he just has an iron stomach from his time on active duty. In any case, food seems to be his unconditional OTP. I request a GIF supercut.

He seems to know a bunch of field operatives (Lester, Sharon, John the ME, Muntz, Beck from containment) from various Orbital teams, perhaps even worked cases with a few, along with everyone in Maddox's office. He's very cordial so presumably he likes them, but in stark contrast at least half seem to decidedly dislike him with baiting antagonism, some openly hostile. Sharon: "why are you smirking at me Bryan?" Muntz, the Laghari lab tech: "I've come across plenty like you...men who play by their own rules." Beck: "They only send in the A-team when they want the agents to survive...easy for you to say, I'm the one who had to tell his wife". No wonder he feels a bit ostracized. Perhaps his reputation (impulsive?) proceeds him or perhaps he's been labeled an "unlucky" partner that misfortune follows so he gets kept at a distance?

The exception to the above seems to be Gary Garcia, the former scientist that helps hide George. May be former partners if the audio during credit rolls is any indication, and knows about Bryan's health / injections. They appear close. Perhaps because they share a mentality: both presumably injured in their line of work at Orbital, and they know what it means to have to rely on yourself.

When we meet Finola and Bryan, it seems like they've been working together for a few weeks, stateside at least (Finola's quote 1x02: Been here 3 weeks, feels like 3 years) and that he's had at least two Orbital partners prior, one (Julian / Jules) that died on duty, and the other creepy Dutch guy still living, Niels. How many more partners has he been through? Is it protocol that they get reassigned/shuffled so often to follow the debris, or so as not to form attachments "This job is about being alone, it's supposed to be...we're a blip in other people's lives", or does his personality not play well with others, like from the pilot when he tells Finola "it's been a long time since I've worked with somebody who's looked at me like another human being."

Also in 1x01 when Bryan says, "So are we now saying the debris pulled [Kieran] from the ground and added meat to his bones" and Finola says no, he was cremated, Bryan looks almost disappointed like he was momentarily more hopeful than pragmatic. At first I thought this was just a lead up to introducing the fact that George Jones was alive, but maybe another plot point is that Bryan has lost someone in duty he wants back.

He carries a picture in his front pocket of a woman with some Persian/ Farsi(?) or Urdu(?) written on the back. It's hard to tell by the script, it could be neither. When confronted by that, his clone says "I can't let it go." Old flame that was lost? Or a partner of a fallen service member killed in action —I've lost brothers— that he couldn't save (is that part of Bryan's dark guilt / grief)? Civilian casualty of a Marine mission? In the pilot when he tells Isla "you have to tell her how much you need her, I know from experience...You will not be able to forgive yourself if you don't" is Bryan thinking of this woman?

EDIT: considering the next episode is called "Asalah," which could be a woman's name, maybe that's part of the text on the back of the photo. Pure speculation.

He counts on himself to be level and composed when it comes to his emotions and apologizes when he isn't. He loses that composure in the pilot when Isla talks about family therapy and fighting with her mother after Kieran's death: "I knew someone like her once." Was Bryan referring to himself, has he been through post-service therapy? Perhaps he developed a rift with his family or left home at an early age like she did?

Bryan would be great at pub trivia night. He always seems to have an odd fact ready about NASA tech, native legends, an article about a historical building that he read, Fleetwood PA, etc. He doesn't seem the type to keep facts on standby to impress, so perhaps he's a secret bibliophile even though Finola hassles him for not reading case files.

"Fin: Maybe we should run some more tests before we continue/ Bryan: I will cut bait if you want to / Fin; let's just look out for each other" 1x02 Bryan seems more cautious than impulsive, he does a good job of listening to Finola's concerns. Is that from experience? Did he get overconfident, mishandle debris, and get permanently injured, hence the frequent blood work and injections?

"This man saved my life." Why does Bryan trust Maddox implicitly? And when Maddox says in 1x07 "Investigate quietly. I want to keep the lights off. I don't want to lose anymore lives, Bryan, okay?" is that a word of warning specially for him? Does he have a body count? (see afforementioned question of frequent work partners turnover and having an unlucky reputation)

Bryan in protective of Finola when the CIA taps her apartment. It's the straw that turns his allegiance from his agency to his partner.

I still can't place why Bryan carries a baseball — it seems like it could be a red herring, but I can't get over the visual of Maddox playing catch with Dario and reading into it as some sort of surrogate bond — or why he has a chain around his neck (1x05). It's not service tags and probably not a ring, it's some kind of pendant: a large loop encircling a dull, perhaps tarnished, gray metallic disc. A patron saint? A piece of shrapnel? A piece of debris? Unclear, but it definitely has texture or an etching.

Top Bryan Quotes

"That's the job. Impossible." 1x01 Pilot

"We are supposed to be blips in these people's lives, not memories." 1x04 In Universe

"It's been a long time since I've worked with somebody who's looked at me like another human being." 1x01

"Zippo lighters, Pyrex glassware, Crayola crayons, and of course Peeps. Insane for peeps, cracklike...we owe the people of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania a great deal of gratitude and I am not afraid to say it." 1x02 You Are Not Alone

"I've been thinking, [about] Finola.. if MI6 knew her father was still alive they would take her out of here. We need to get home before this becomes an issue...this is going to affect her." 1x03 Solar Winds, when he's not sure how her father will affect her empathetic-based decision-making

Craig: "You hated the creepy Dutch guy." / Bryan: "He was adorable."

"Well, one of my tips for survival, Muntz, is always let the other guy touch the debris first." 1x03 So is that what happened to Garcia?

To Finola "I realize I tend to forget that there's still magic to discover in the world. But not you." 1x03

"There are things that you understand about life that I don't, and I respect that. But there are things that I know that you will not find very palatable...I am going to focus on the people that we're saving and not the ones that we can't." 1x04

"If we don't act, we might not be able to stop the terraforming. There's no way we're going to be able to win all these, and I know that every cell in your body right now is screaming for you to do what you think is right. I need you to go against that. I need you to trust me." 1x04

"Finola's capable. I trust her instincts." 1x08 Spaceman

"I'm running on sugar and coffee for the rest of the day" 1x07 You Can Call Her Caroline, but really isn't that Bryan everyday?

"When I tell you that I understand, it's not empty...I lost brothers. It destroys families. There are people who can help you with what you're going through right now...There is a way to get back from this pain. I was where you were, and the darkness almost ended me. And somebody put out his hand... I want to be there for you." 1x07

"I'm trying to get back to someone. It's very important to me." 1x09 Do You Know Icarus?

[xanderwithanx]

Chloe does night-time diary posts on HER tumblr, so I'm going to start doing them here, sometimes. It would be nice if you read it, but, please, don't feel obligated! This is more for me to write.

(I got tired of my normal journal, I guess. It's full of bad poetry anyway. Besides, where's the thrill of losing anonymity in a physical notebook?)

I've basically been asleep and depressed for several days, because I had withdrawal after not being able to get my adhd meds. But, I got it today, and DID THINGS. (This is SO much better than before!)

Today, I went to a small café or restaurant (focused on tea) called Alice's Teacup that was Alice in Wonderland themed! My long-standing obsession with Alice in Wonderland knows no bounds. It was a really cute place. I got pumpkin pancakes, and some really good iced tea. Like... REALLY good iced tea.

Still, it seemed like the entire place was geared towards having a pot of tea and snacks with your friends, which left me a bit lonely. The person I asked couldn't come, and by the time I heard back, I was more than halfway there. Still, I read Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead and watched Monty Python on my phone, so I still had a good time!

I dressed pretty eccentricly and effeminately all day, but, with my facial hair, I was ALWAYS coded as a man, even by people on the street! Pastels, a stupid hat, a crop top, and facial hair was a winning combination.

On my way, I was stopped by some guys soliciting for charity. I don't make a habit of stopping for strangers on the streets of Manhattan. What if it's a scam? What if I'm being pressured to buy something? What if it's a strange political rant? But, I had already taken my earbuds off, I wasn't in a hurry, and I'm terminally polite. The first guy said he liked my energy, which seemed to come from a genuine place, because I liked his too!

They were asking for donations for a breast cancer charity, the United Breast Cancer Foundation. After a discussion, it seems like the charity helps pay medical debt, medical bills, and other practical needs, which is much better than *some* others I could name. I regretted not being able to give their minimum there, as it was pretty high, but told them I'd give what I could when I got on the website.

I... did not. Money is tight, because I'm bad and irresponsible with money, even though this is more than a worthy cause. I didn't NEED to go to that tea place, and I don't NEED to spend so much money on food. Sure, I can justify it: I wanted to go to that place for so long, and it was near the college anyway! But, if I was responsible with money, you KNOW my friends direct fundraising drives would go first, worthy charities second. Still, I feel bad about it.

Then, I went to the college library, to get books to start my thesis research. I have literally been unable to go to the college itself, aside from getting my ID, so this was great! There just wasn't a reason. It was... very empty. I went to the library stacks, which was deathly quiet and deeply haunted by the old books. I half expected something to pop out at me, as I turned the stacks, but I wasn't even paranoid or anxious. It was like I was in something else's house. I was welcome, but on thin ice.

I picked up an irrelevant psychology book on the "schizophrenia problem" from the 1930s, out of morbid fascination, and quickly put it down when it threatened to shatter in my hands.

Some students walked past (which was a suprise in those monastic basement library stacks), and I added something to their conversation, in a totally natural and casual way. But, omg the poor girls, I made them jump! Luckily, I'm the least threatening person on earth, and we laughed it off.

After a lot of hunting, I got 5 out of my 10 books (for the most part)! (The rest are, sadly, online. I like to read physical copies.) Strangely, I only came in with a list to get 3 books out of 6.

Most of the books I got are about art in the AIDS crisis, which is the core of my thesis, I think, all with different value. One about exhibitions, one about the larger narrative of those gay artists, and another contradicting the larger narrative.

I also got a book about "Art and Homosexuality". Just, the parallel construction of both "art" and "homosexuality" across cultures and times, from earliest history to the modern age. It wasn't on my initial list, but I'm really excited to read it.

Finally, I got a book called "The Thief, the Cross and the Wheel", about the pain and spectacle of punishment in Medieval and Renaissance European art. I'm mainly interested in Italian Renaissance art of the crucifixion--and its masochism--for the second quarter of my thesis.

The rest are online, and Should mostly focus on Bacchus in the Italian Renaissance (especially through art) and what I call the art of "gay liberation", concurrent with the AIDS crisis (i.e. The Cockettes). These two topics make up the last half of my thesis.

I'm SO excited to get started!!

I even got to cross the college's sky-bridges! (The college is a few skyscrapers.) Still, the loneliness and novelty were kind of the same thought. Imagine if I had been here before COVID, or, if COVID hadn't happened. Who would I have been able to meet? What would the college buildings mean to me? Because, for now, they're just buildings. But, I got to see the street from above, and that was amazing!

Just walking through New York--the Upper East Side--on a cool, sunny day was beautiful. It takes 20-30 minutes to get from my place to the college (and the tea place), but it was great being able to listen to my music (a lot of They Might Be Giants on the playlist today) and see the city. You know, people, super cool old architecture being pushed out by terrible new architecture, and pigeons.

Oh my god, the pigeons. I took pictures, but none of them are good. I kept thinking about how pigeons and doves are functionally the same. We domesticated pigeons, which is why they're here, and no one is stopping to notice them? Even the ones that were splotched with pure white, like doves? There's only so many pigeons you can take until they're just white noise and a nuisance, I know, so don't think I'm blaming anyone! But it's so hard to look away from these quirky little birds.

Also, at one point my walk, I was vaping very strategicly. The mental task of searching through library stacks will do that to you, when you already have an addiction to nicotine. I made sure no one was around, and no one would be affected. I stopped on a corner next to an old, ornate Catholic church while the traffic light changed, and I almost juuled right next to a priest! I'm glad I stopped. I don't believe in Hell, but, I would have walked down there myself had I vaped at a priest. Still, the church advertised itself as LGBT+ friendly, so maybe they aren't so trigger happy on the damnation. Either way, I DIDN'T vape at a priest today, which is good.

Once I got back, I spent a few hours watching things with my amazing girlfriend Chloe, who you may know here as @cisphobiccommunistopinions. She is so beautiful, and I love her more every day, every time I see her. God, it's almost been 5 years!

I just wish I could spend more time with her. She's in Virginia, and I'm in New York. Like she said to me earlier, I'm flighty at the best of times, and, with my lack of object permanence for the digital world, I find myself not giving her the attention I deserve, or, the full connection I long to have with her. We used to live together. Luckily, someday we will live together again! All these problems won't be forever, and we can live together again.

We watched a lot of things, but we're pretty deep into Serial Experiments Lain right now. It's a postmodern anime from the 90s, and, wow, do I have no idea what's going on in it. It's about the internet, and potentially schizophrenia as well. However, I'm obsessed! One day I'll be able to crack this artistic code, and it's unreality, thematic knots, and double-meanings. I will probably understand it better on the second watch. I don't see myself in Lain, but I see my 14 year old self in her, when I had just developed schizophrenia. Her cyberpunk fate seems like it's railroaded towards tragedy, but I want to save her, even if it's silly and irrational.

I told Chloe that I was scared about spilling apple cider on my library books, and she referred to it as "The Great Apple Juice Disaster of September 11, 2021." To which I said that it was the second worst thing to happen in New York on that date. It was funnier if you were there, and also were in my brain at the time.

Anyway, tomorrow I'm meeting some online acquaintances from the college's "Queer Srudent Union" at a Japanese Culture Fair in a park. (I do not know which park.) It emphasizes "fun"! I don't know them very well, but they're friends with the one person I know irl, so it should be good.

Tomorrow night, I should Probably head downtown to check out a gallery show by MFA (masters of fine arts) students at Hunter! After all, I was in a group project with one of them, and they're absolutely brilliant. I missed the Thursday gallery opening by a landslide, because of the aforementioned lack of adhd meds and Being Asleep, which I infinitely regret. I could have listened to all the artists and curators talk about their art and exhibition! Maybe I could have even talked with the artists and curators. But, it's best for me to go sooner, rather than later, so I don't forget. And, I REALLY want to go.

It's "This dialogue which happened to be present in all other dialogues" at the Alyssa Davis Gallery. From the email I got, "Each of these works observes a threshold of transition. [...] [These] intimations [are] of a frame of mind shared by the artists. These works perform, record, access, engage, document, and entrap, embalming the viewer within the gallery space."

sgp is a really good artist, by the way. Their work is just next-level. Be sure to check out their art, if you have a chance. Let me link their portfolio: https://saragracepowell.com/

(I highly suspect spg and the other member of my group project ghosted me afterwards, but I understand. I was really in over my head. Still, they're both really sweet and kind people, don't get it twisted!)

I ALSO really want to see The Cake Boys. They're performing at the 3 Dollar Bill in Brooklyn on September 26th. (It's only $15!) They're the only all drag king collective in NYC! (Are... there any Other all drag king collectives out there?) Other than the fact that a lot of them are trans or nonbinary, which I love, this show is a totally non-judgmental competition for over 40 drag kings! I've heard their shows are hilarious and unique.

I just have to wait until I have $15 to spare. I... didn't eat dinner tonight, because I'm irresponsible with my money and don't want to ask my parents for money... again. Don't worry, it's literally fine, and I don't make a habit of doing this!

Which reminds me! For my birthday, my parents gave me a gift card to Lush! I'm definitely going to Lush tomorrow, which will be great. I would describe my personality as "Lush store employee acosting you about a bath bomb demonstration", so I'll fit right in.

I also made a transition timeline, to show how much I've changed on testosterone. For the better, I hope! I really believe I'm becoming, if not Have Become, the man I was always meant to be. It's so strange to look back at who I was not too long ago, and to know the absolute pain I was in. It's also strange, in a good way, to see the man looking back at me in the selfies. I'm so much happier now! Much more candid in my pictures, at least. But, I know that I'm so much more comfortable as myself than I was even 6 months ago. It's strange. Sometimes I think to myself, "I don't pass yet; I'm not who I Need To Be yet." Then, I look at my selfie from today, and... I'm THERE. My mind just hasn't caught up with my amazing, natural, normal reality.

The end. I have to get ready for bed, (even though I could be partying on a Saturday night in the city. I'm lame.) If you actually read this, I am kissing you on the mouth right now. I hope it made you calm down tonight, like a terrible bedtime story. If you didn't read it and just skipped to the end, don't worry: you did the rational thing.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Best Things ~ J.V. (Part 6)

A/n: Things boutta get bad so like... I'm sorry. Practically nothing but angst this part won't lie. Side note: I know I don't actually have a lot of Jerome x reader content yet, but I wanted to show the reader's descent into madness before they're officially a thing. I promise you it's coming, and very soon :)

Word Count: 4300+

Playlist

MASTERLIST

Y/n shot to his feet, only for the guards behind him to draw their guns. Alfred held up a hand. "Is he alive?" Y/n demanded. He might have lost his mind just a tad, but Bruce was still one of the very few things Y/n Wayne cared about and no one was about to put that boy in danger.

"Yes," Alfred soothed. "I said he WAS kidnapped. We have him back now." Y/n calmed and Alfred seemed to almost smile, as if seeing the amount Y/n cared was very reassuring. That tracked. "He's been brainwashed or something though, and I've gotten special permission from Commissioner Bullock himself to let you out to help me bring him back. If we play this right, we might even get you released permanently. We can figure this whole thing out. You can come back to us. We can be a family again." Y/n thought about that. Seeing Bruce again. His brother meant everything to him. He cared about Alfred too, honestly. The man had been a good father figure to both of them, and a good friend even when their father was alive. Y/n would have a real home, without killing or chaos. He'd be working for the good guys.

Right?

He thought about that word. Good guys. Cops were supposed to be good guys, weren't they? But he'd gotten locked up in Arkham just for being associated with Jerome, and then gotten the shit kicked out of him when he'd simply been himself. He hadn't killed anyone, or hurt anyone. He'd shown affection to another man and had nearly gotten beat to death for it. He'd leave Arkham, the only place he'd ever really been accepted for being gay. Maybe not by that one guard, but everyone else seemed to not care since no one cared about him at all, except maybe Jerome. Oh god Jerome. Y/n would have to leave him. And Harleen as well. The new friend who really got him and had his back the best she could in a place where her words practically had as much affect as Y/n's did. He had a boyfriend and a potential best friend and room to be free... except that he wasn't free.

Why was this so hard?

"Y/n," Alfred interrupted, eyes wide and pleading. "Bruce needs you."

The last time Alfred had said that, Bruce had just witnessed their parents' murders. Y/n pushed down the boy he used to be that was fighting to resurface, trying to find at least a. Middle between then and now. They were so different... there was suddenly a battle again himself, and he was losing.

Finally, he just shut it all down. Everything else could wait for another time. "When can we leave?" Alfred smiled at his words, but Y/n suddenly had a terrible feeling in his gut. Why did he get the sense that everything was about to get really, really bad again?

-

"Penguins alive?" Y/n relaxed in relief.

Alfred frowned. "Yeah. Um-" He swallowed. "You've kind of really been involved with all the worst people recently, eh?"

Y/n actually scoffed at that, his lips curling in amusement. "I've met far worse people than Oswald, Alfred." He looked the butler in the face. "You might not like to hear this, but that redhead everyone in town hates so much? He wasn't the one who did this to me." Y/n motioned to his own face. "But the officer who did, did it for no other reason than because I'm gay." He let that settle for a second. Alfred seemed shaken a bit. It seemed to finally be dawning on him just what Y/n had been going through since his parents had died. "Now, enough about me." They'd finally pulled up to the GCPD building. "Let's get inside. Like you said: Bruce needs us."

Y/n had been required to be handcuffed, though he hadn't been put in a straight jacket and had been allowed to change into normal clothes as not to upset Bruce upon seeing him. He was still beat up pretty badly though, and had developed a limp as the adrenaline wore off and as his beating really sunk in. Alfred had to keep him handcuffed as they walked in, and the whole place went quite. It was becoming a habit that Y/n could walk into any room and immediately bring silence with him as he did so. All of Gotham had gotten to the point that they couldn't exactly make an opinion on Y/n Wayne. How did someone like him get born into a family like he had been, and turn out like this?

Gay and insane.

It had been in the newspaper. Someone, somewhere had gotten hold of the news that Y/n Wayne was gay and it had been released everywhere. Y/n had read the article a while ago. It's what had prompted Jerome to finally be more affectionate around other inmates, instead of just at night when they were in their cell together. People might give Y/n shit for being into dudes, but no one was going to mess with Jerome. He'd put his neck out for Y/n... It was becoming clear that few others would do the same. Maybe it was the insanity.

Y/n was brought to a room that was a different color than the walls at Arkham. The color outside had been overwhelming after seeing muted versions from a distance through windows that now, the dull color was kind of refreshing. Inside the room was Bruce, but he looked different. Y/n couldn't imagine the last time his younger brother had worn a turtle neck. His father used to try to get the boys to wear them all the time, but, especially in their youth, the boys had hated them and eventually their father had given up. Bruce hadn't worn one since they were both seven, when he used to just do whatever their dad told him to. And since when did he wear anything other than dark blue or black? Y/n found all his usual jokes about Bruce being a casual emo slip from his mind. He didn't know how to approach this new boy. He didn't know him.

To be fair, Bruce didn't really know him either.

"Hello, brother," Y/n greeted, unsure of how to go about this after all that stood between them.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here?"

Y/n sat down, scooting over as Alfred joined him with a second chair. "Just checking in," Y/n responded slowly. "Alfred told me about what happened. Getting kidnapped. Been there, it's not too fun."

Bruce rolled his eyes."You got kidnapped by a brainless psychopath. I got taken by someone who was trying to help me."

Y/n scoffed. "Help you? Bruce look at you. You're not yourself."

"I'm better," Bruce shot back. Y/n went quiet at that, looking at Alfred with raised eyebrows.

Alfred ignored the look. "Now we can talk all day, but what really matters is that you tell me what you meant when you said someone else was coming to Gotham. I thought that old fellow was the leader of the Council of the Owls, who else would be coming?"

An expression rested on Bruce's face. Far too complacent and calm. The Bruce Y/n was familiar with had the tendency to brood- this Bruce seemed to have no tendencies at all. No cares or anything. It was disturbing to say the least. "I want you both to leave."

"Well that ain't gonna happen, is it mate?" Alfred immediately matched. The butler crossed his arms. "You can't get rid of either of us that easy. Your brother here found time around being locked up to be here for you. Not much is getting us out of here."

"Especially with the city in chaos," Y/n cut in. "Not even your pals in the GCPD will be here to drag us away. Might as well end it now."

When Bruce didn't respond, Alfred leaned forward. "You have to remember who you are."

That seemed to set Bruce off. "I know who I am." Y/n scoffed. "I have a destiny," the younger boy continued, his volume raising as Y/n's mocking noise irritated him.

"Now you listen to me." Alfred had gotten very quiet. "That man that wanted you to detonate that bomb, whatever he promised you- freedom from pain, power - none of it, none of it was real. I want you to remember what is real."

"I know what's real!" Bruce yelled over the end of Alfred's sentence. Y/n tried not to smile. He really did. Bruce glowered as his older brother grinned at him. Mocked him. "You come in here and mock me? You're the crazy one. Don't you dare laugh at me like I'm the one who's lost my mind! I got vengeance for our parents' murder. That's real, and better than running around like an idiot with a lunatic murder!"

"You know NOTHING about lunacy," Y/n interrupted. "I've seen crazy. I've seen grown men beat on teenage boys and call it power. I've seen cops chase bad guys to predictable set ups and act like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world. I've seen so called heroes save to be said innocent people, and then those evil little shits turn on those same heroes the first chance they get. I've seen love get ignored and then twisted. I've seen people laugh at pain and enjoy the suffering of others and then call themselves sane because that person who was dying was a bad guy, so who cares, right? I've seen people define good and bad like it's a dictionary entry and then immediately break the rules they lay down and still try to pass off as the victim of the story. THAT was real Bruce." Alfred put a hand on Y/n's shoulder, and it was only then when he realized he was crying. "I've seen stories about how evil and corrupt men are and how much women are victims, and then looked at Gotham and seen women in charge while I, a child, was raped by a woman again and again who was only using me for power." He cleared his throat. "Not to say that other people don't suffer, I just mean that everything is a grey area. What's real is bullshit and what's fake is seemingly the most honest option of those presented. Not everything is as clear as it pretends to be, Bruce. I'm supposed to be the crazy one. I was supposed to be the one who failed. I was supposed to be the screw up, but we're both in handcuffs and you were the one who was trying to ruin the lives of thousands of people just minding their own business. What was my crime, huh? Trying to be happy? Trying to be true to myself?" Y/n scoffed. "If only mom and dad could see you now."

"YOU SHUT UP!" Bruce screeched.

"Both of you calm down," Alfred snapped. "I was there when your parents had both of you. I took care of your mum and was there as you grew up. You used to be inseparable. No matter what anyone else did or said or thought, the Wayne brothers always had each others' backs. Good and bad is clear. Everyone is capable of it. Everyone does it. No one is innocent of evil, even in small amounts. Both of you have been idiots." He took a breath. "But you're also both my idiots." He looked between the two boys. "You're both my boys, even if I haven't been there for both of you." He looked at Y/n as he said that. "You want to talk about what's real? What's good?" He looked at bruce. "What's real is when you were sick as a kid, and your mum used to sit up with you every night and read to you when you fell asleep. That's real. Or when you were seven and you took that rowboat out and you got lost in that storm. Me and your dad were out, shouting and screaming, losing our minds, and when your dad found you, how he cried. That's real." He looked at Y/n. "When you were twelve and you came to your parents in tears because you couldn't understand why all the girls your age were talking about kissing you and you couldn't stop thinking about kissing the other boys. Your mum calmed you down and your dad told me that no matter what, they'd love you and you thought I didn't know but I did- all this time, I knew." Y/n felt his chest tighten. He felt terrible. "That was good, Y/n." Alfred gripping Y/n's shoulder. "When everyone came to your dad talking bad about you and they thought he'd laugh along, but he put an end to it immediately because you were still his son and he loved you. He was proud of you. When the news people came after you for secrets and they were nosey and pushy. When they crowded and stalked you because they'd caught wind that you had a dark secret and everyone wanted to know what the oldest Wayne son failure was hiding, and your dad nearly lost his mind on all of them, if your mum hadn't stepped in and stopped it cordially. THAT. Was. Good." Alfred returned to looking at Bruce, keeping his hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Your parents died in that alley four years ago, and maybe that man took away the pain of that night." This time he looked between the two boys. "Life has been hard since then, but there is no life, no love, without pain." He squeezed Y/n's shoulder and when the boy nodded, he returned his attention to Bruce. Bruce was the main focus right now, but Y/n had gotten the message. "He could not take away the love that your mum and dad gave you, that you still have in you- that you still have-" his voice broke as he reached over, pressing his hand against Bruce's chest, right over where his heart would be. "Right here." His hand finally dropped after a pause as he continued, "The same love I have for you. For both of you." His face flecked with. "I love you, Maser Bruce. Master Y/n. I would do anything for you. I would die for you. You must-" he cut off, focusing on Bruce. Y/n kept thinking Alfred was done focusing on him, but then Alfred would look at him again, and he hadn't felt so cared for or looked after since his parents had died. It all felt silly now... "You have to find that love again."

Every word hit home. Alfred was speaking to Bruce, but it was becoming more and more obvious that he was talking to Y/n too. Y/n reached over, his hand resting over Bruce's. "We both have to," he whispered softly. "You don't have to do it alone. I know it's been hard and chaotic, but I'm still your brother, Bruce. You're still my brother. And no matter what, you always have me."

Alfred leaned forward. "Come back to us, Master Bruce." There was a commotion outside and Alfred sighed before telling Y/n, "I'll be right back," and then leaving.

Bruce looked to his brother. "Did you mean what you said? I can depend on you?" Y/n nodded immediately. "Then get me out of here." Y/n went to argue but Bruce interrupted. "You can come with me and make sure I'm safe. But I HAVE to do this. I need to finish it. I need to see it through. I need to know if this really is my destiny. I need to understand-" he cut off, choked with emotion. But Y/n knew what he meant. The same thing that had driven him to follow Jerome Valeska of all people. That had gotten him to follow Penguin and ditch his family to begin with. There are just some things you have to do. So Y/n looked around, found a pen, and Bruce pick the locks on both of their cuffs before they booked it, side by side and headed for... something. Bruce hadn't cued Y/n into the plan this far.

In all honesty, it was just nice being by Bruce's side again.

They made their way through the city streets of Gotham at night until they got to a red door with the word "Yuyan" on the front. Bruce went in. Y/n followed. Inside was the statue of what looked like some kind of demon. There was a lot going on. Bruce didn't hesitate- he stepped up and began analyzing it. Y/n was still taking it in when he pulled something and the wall opened up, revealing a hidden passage. The brothers went inside, Bruce having to take Y/n's hand to get the older boy to follow him now.

The two walked down a staircase and through a tunnel. It seemed eery. Weirdly light and far too silent and empty. When people appeared, Y/n regretted his lament about there not being anyone around- they immediately attacked him. "No." Bruce said firmly. They stopped. Y/n looked at his brother with shock. Bruce's expression remained calm. Y/n's would be attackers simply pointed Bruce onward, making way for him to follow their direction.

Y/n hadn't been this scared in a long time. Surely he wasn't in danger. This was Bruce he was talking about. Golden Boy Bruce Wayne who used to cry when they were really little and Y/n would step on a bug. Who shut down after their parents died because he loved them so much that seeing their murder changed him... except that his heart of gold kept him from corrupting like Y/n had. He was driven by justice and refused to let up until evil was destroyed. Bruce Wayne was a hero.

And yet, when Y/n looked at the back of Bruce's head now, he didn't see his younger brother. He saw a man in a child's body. He saw a straight back that was well trained and perfectly postured. He saw clothes Bruce would never wear and a silence Bruce would prefer not to bear, especially with Y/n around to talk his ear off. He saw Bruce leading them down a tunnel of doom, being completely docile after someone tried to kill him. After he almost poisoned maybe hundreds of people with just the press of a button. After, of all people, he had chosen some random old dude weirdo over Alfred and almost killed one of two family members he still had left.

Very suddenly, Y/n realized that he hadn't realized how bad Bruce was. How dumb it was to follow after him right now. And he was more scared than he'd ever been. More scared than even when he looked in the face of a cold blooded, sadistic murderer who had completely lost his mind and only saw an endless world of things to fascinate him. More scared when the doors would close and all he saw was red lips curled in a devious smile as the one person he trusted the most took advantage of him. More scared than when that stupid guard had locked him in that room and he had really thought he was going to get beaten to death for being gay.

Bruce pushed two double doors open with each hand. They creaked as they opened slowly, revealing a room with a green pool in the middle. Bruce leaned over and Y/n stepped forward, reaching out to stop him. Then he felt a pain at the back of his head and everything went black.

-

Y/n woke up alone.

It was dark, but it only took him a few seconds to remember everything and realize where he was. He looked around- the pool was still there. Otherwise, the room was empty. Y/n groaned as he sat up, looking around again for signs of those people that had attacked him earlier. When he still saw no one, he stood and began walking back the way he'd come. It was even scarier now that he was alone. "Bruce?" He whispered into the empty hallway. He jumped at every noise, resulting in him eventually misstepping and tripping. He would have face planted if his scrambling abilities hadn't improved recently due to all the running away from cops and other crazies alike in his days by Oswald's side. Thankfully he didn't fall because, as he was noticing while trying to get his feet under him, there was blood on the floor.

Oh my god there was blood on the floor.

He sucked in a breath, beginning to look around again. "BRUCE?" His heart picked up and he felt the back of his eyes burning with tears. "Bru-" his shoulder hit a wall and he screamed. Shaking his head to calm himself, he pressed his lips together and retraced his path that he'd taken with Bruce to get in here. Eventually it lead him outside. Weirdly enough, the wall was open again. Which meant that he didn't have to figure out how this side of the trick worked... but it also meant he wasn't alone.

The night air outside was cool, the sun rising in the distance. He looked down at himself- he was filthy. He took a second to think. To remember. The last thing that had been clear to him was that he was absolutely terrified of Bruce.

That's right. Bruce wasn't... right anymore. Well, that meant he couldn't go home. He also couldn't just walk back into Arkham. They might think he'd done something if he came back, dirty and hysterical, without Alfred. So he went to the GCPD department instead, because where the else was he going to go?

He was inside for maybe a second before he saw a familiar face. His eyes went wide and his heart nearly stopped- in his vulnerable state, of course it would be the guard that almost beat him to death that would be there to greet him. The man smirked, tilting his head. "There you are. We were wondering when you'd find your way back." He approached the teenage boy, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Someone else approached. Y/n almost melted in relief to see Harvey Bullock. "What's going on here?" His eyes laded on Y/n. "What... I thought you were in Arkham."

"He was," the officer responded. Y/n had already forgotten his name from when Harleen had said it before. "Alfred Pennyworth came and got him out for the day. Needed him for some Wayne business. I'll be taking him back now."

Harvey looked confused by that. "Why? We were already debating letting him go. Now he's out, there's no reason to immediately put him back in." The guard seemed horrified by that idea. Harvey put his hands on his waist. "He didn't do anything wrong."

"Do you know what this boy is?" Y/n's heart sunk. "He's a homosexual."

Harvey's eyebrows rose. At first Y/n thought it was in surprise, but then he said, "So what?"

The guard looked stunned. "He needs help, Bullock. He was canoodling with Jerome Valeska in Arkham. In public. Like there's nothing wrong with that."

Now Harvey was surprised. Y/n swallowed his emotions and met the older cop's gaze evenly, sticking his chin up. Harvey sighed. Y/n didn't even have to say anything- the old man just seemed to... immediately understand. "He turned to someone who accepted him in a world of people who hate him." It was Y/n's turn to be surprised. "That's not punishable."

The guard scoffed. "Son, have you ever killed anyone before?" Y/n looked away. He thought about the first time he'd ever killed someone, and then thought about all the many times after that he'd done it himself or helped. Another experience he'd picked up while hanging with Oswald. "The thing won't even deny it. And he's proud to be with that redheaded psycho. There's something wrong with him, Commissioner. He needs to be detained and get some help."

Harvey and Y/n both knew that was not the reason the guard wanted Y/n back in Arkham. The two men looked at each other, both put down at the fact that they couldn't stop anything happening. Maybe Y/n should have lied. Maybe he should be fighting. Unfortunately, he'd just lost his little brother and he had no idea what kind of shape Alfred was in. Currently, he had to assume that Alfred was either dead or would be soon, if Bruce could help it.

The guard tugged Y/n's arm and they were headed back outside toward his car. "Thought you were gonna get away from me that easily, did you?" The guard growled under his breath, leaning close to Y/n so the Wayne boy would be the only one to hear. "I finally have a reason to get at you, you little shit. Things are only gonna get worse for you from here. Now I can say you've killed people. No one will stop me from knocking you now."

Y/n looked at the city one more time before he was shoved into the car. The guard pulled out a pair of cuffs and put him in them. He looked at the city the whole time. The entire ride, he took in every inch of it. Every dirty corner. Every dirty human. Every inch of the buildings- no matter how close, far, tall or small they were. If he could see it, he took it in as much as he could. Above everything else, he took in the sunrise.

Maybe it was the fact that Y/n might never see it again outside of Arkham, but it wasn't overwhelming this time.

It was beautiful.

[365days365movies]

April 4, 2021: The Great Dictator (Review)

It's a 100%. Haven't given one of those in a while!

Here's the thing: this is a great film. Hang the comedy bit, even though it's also a very funny film! This is a great movie, no questions. I actually have no problems with it, and barely any actual commentary, gonna be honest. Fact of the matter is, it's essentially perfect in my book. Maybe it's not actually flawless...but I'm having a lot of trouble seeing any flaws. If you've got any, PLEASE tell me! I'm curious, really.

But OK, why am I even writing this, then? Because I want to close out this Golden Era of Comedy with a post about the end of its biggest star, Charlie Chaplin. Because from here...things are all downhill. And the seeds of that journey can be seen in this film. So, in other words, this post is a film history post. WELCOME TO SCHOOL

Yeah, sorry. If you like these history posts, I hope you like this one! And if not...yeah, that's entirely fair. Go ahead and skip this one! The next movie is Arsenic and Old Lace, so I'll save you the trouble of scrolling down! See you next time!

...

...OK, you still here? Cool, let's do this. Go ahead and "keep reading" for more on Chaplin after this film!

Review: Charlie Chaplin

Chaplin's walking on air, at least in terms of his film career! The Great Dictator will become his best-received film critically, and was a smash-hit in the United States. But that's pretty heavily contrasted with the reception of, well, Chaplin himself. Because unfortunately for him, Chaplin's ideologies would soon VIOLENTLY clash with that of his adopted country of the United States.

First things first, his love life was a mess, as was typical for the film star. His latest significant other was actress Joan Barry, and they separated bitterly (AKA, the only was Chaplin separates from anybody), after having a child together. This relationship would begin the downfall of Chaplin's image, starting in 1942. And that would be due to one of the most irritating, shitty dudes in the history of the FBI: J. Edgar Hoover.

Hoover HATED Chaplin, mostly because he was suspicious of him, as he was with EVERYBODY. Fuck Hoover, by the way, dude was a monster. He was also an INSANE patriot, bordering on straight up nationalism. But his hatred of Chaplin revolved around the fact that Chaplin's views were...controversial. I mean, Modern Times was an anti-industrialist film, and that's what the USA was ALL ABOUT at the time. And then, there's...one more thing. I'll get there.

Hoover launched a smear campaign against Charlie, and the Barry case was saddled with an additional allegation: violation of the Mann Act, which stated that it was illegal to transport women across state lines for sexual reasons. It was an attempt to stifle prostitution, and part of a massive moral panic of the time period. It was a bullshit charge, and Chaplin escaped it in trial. But damage had been done to his reputation, and Charlie was about to make it worse.

Shortly after, in 1943, Chaplin would meet his last wife, Oona O'Neill. She was 18, he was 54. Fuckin' OOF, dude. And in 19 years, the two would have EIGHT CHILDREN JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CHAPLIN!!!

Anyway, other than this positive development, the Barry trial had beaten the shit out of him, will-wise. But he began developing a new ambitious film project in 1946, which was called Monsieur Verdoux. This was a black comedy about a bank clerk/serial killer that killed women for money. Which is obviously pretty controversial in a moral panic-stricken America, but that was made worse by Chaplin more overtly expressing his political views...which were violently anti-capitalism! In post-World War II America!

Uh-oh.

In 1947, with the release of Monsieur Verdoux, the film was legit booed at the premiere in the USA. Fuck. Tensions finally came to a head, and Chaplin was "outed" as a filthy, filthy commie! And I put "outed" in quotes because, well...he wasn't. Sure, Chaplin was against capitalism and military nationalism, as well as sympathizing with communist ideals in some cases. He was also friends with suspected communists, and with Soviet diplomats. And that shit's barely OK NOW amongst a pretty big proportion of people in the country. In 1947? WAY FUCKIN' WORSE.

Chaplin was "dangerous and amoral" according to the FBI, and he probably believed in equal rights for minorities too, the FILTHY FUCKIN' COMMIE!!! But, yeah, he was targeted by Joseph McCarthy and the House Un-American Activities Committee, and was nearly listed as one of the Hollywood Ten, a group of filmmakers blacklisted from Hollywood for alleged communist activities. Chaplin escaped that, but was still a major target for the Red Scare.

Chaplin, not giving a fuck as always, now decided upon a new project. Limelight was a semi-autobiographical film, in which he played an aging former vaudeville actor who had lost his popularity and fame, and falls in love with a younger woman. On the nose as always, Chaplin. Also, that's Buster Keaton in the GIF up there! Only time the two ever appeared on screen. Neat, huh?

Chaplin went home to the UK for the film's well-publicized premiere in 1952. And that's when the US Attorney General STRUCK, revoking Chaplin's VISA, and trapping him overseas permanently. Chaplin was banned from the United States, through really shitty underhanded tactics. Fuck, man. Worst part is, it's since been proven that there was no good justification for the VISA to be revoked. But the damage was done, and Chaplin willingly cut his ties with the United States, having been spurned by his adopted country for years.

Loved in Europe and hated in America, Charlie continued making films, with his next film being another semi-autobiographical parody called A King in New York. He also came out not as a communist, but as a straight-up anarchist! He hated government altogether at this point, and it's hard to blame the guy. He really did get screwed. But, ironically, his love life was now quite stable, and his marriage with Oona was happy, by all accounts.

His films were banned in the United States, and Chaplin banned them right back, not releasing his films there, and preventing American journalists from attending its premiere. But even ten years later, Chaplin's filmography began to re-emerge for movie audiences, and his popularity began to rebound. The man was just that good, what can I say? Chaplin made a romantic comedy in 1967, called A Countess from Hong Kong, and starring Marlon Brando of all people! It was his first color film, and...it did NOT go well with audiences, ANYWHERE. It just wasn't well-received, and that film would be Chaplin's last.

In 1967, Chaplin had his first stroke of many. He continued his marriage with Oona, and even continued making another film called The Freak, an ambitious project from what's known about it. Basically, it was about a South American girl with wings, which is interesting. In 1972, after 20 years away, Chaplin was welcomed back to the United States with open arms, and was given an Honorary Academy Award for his insane contribution to the medium since the Golden Age of Hollywood. He was given a 12-minute standing ovation, the longest ever given at an Academy Award ceremony.

Still planning on making his film, he returned home. But the film went on a permanent hiatus by 1977, by which time his health had badly declined. On Christmas Day, 1977, Chaplin was found dead, having suffered a stroke in his sleep. He was 88 years of age, and was buried two days later in Switzerland. And THEN...he was dug up.

Yeah, DUDE'S GRAVE WAS FUCKIN' ROBBED! A couple of guys held Chaplin's corpse for ransom, which didn't work out for them, and he was reburied a few days later, this time in a reinforced concrete vault, where his remains remain to this day.

Charles Spencer Chaplin is one of the greatest actors and filmmakers of his time, and didn't deserve the guff he got from the government. The guff he got from his wives...eh, that he probably did deserve, not gonna lie. Dude wasn't the best husband, or the best dad to at least three of his kids. But in an ongoing effort to separate the art from the artist, Chaplin needs to be appreciated for the mountain of talent that he was, and his films will make him immortal in the annals of film history. Long live the Tramp.

But with him and his influence, the film industry had a place to evolve from, especially in terms of comedy. After The Great Dictator, some comedies felt the freedom to take a bit of a darker tone. And from here on out, we're splitting the timeline by genre, tracking comedy films by the evolution of their respective genres. And we start in 1944, with a film about...MYURDERRRR!!! And sweet old ladies!

April 5, 2021: Arsenic and Old Lace (1944), dir. Frank Capra

[muffindaddystyles]

(CLANDESTINE CHAPTER TWO)

ᗩᑭᑭOIᑎTᗰᗴᑎT, ᖇᗴᗪ ᐯᗴᒪᐯᗴT ᗩᑎᗪ ᗰᑌᖴᖴIᑎՏ

𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚

Rhythmically mellifluous waves of notes echoes after bouncing back from anile theatre's walls, the trill getting softer the more I firmly place my chin over the tail piece.

Eye lids slip shutting at the flurries of heart chasing the last cadences, pinky shivering as the middle and ring finger pushes the string down while the bow touches through the strings simultaneously producing the last chords.

Feels like a voyage over a baby leaf that's leading me through a pallid wind.

My chest heaving vigorously and lifting my jaw from the violin my head snapped in the direction of loud claps flowing. After a hectic performance the seats went empty and instead of going backstage I tried to play a melody for myself.

I was so lost finding my way through strings that didn't even noticed when Azi came. He's the owner of this old hideously beautiful theatre, his love for arts has this place still running without compliance knowing else it would have left baren just like the other popular theatres they shut years ago.

"Well done Harry, people seemed to love your performance last night and today." A smile quenching from my inners causing the bottom lip to tuck in between my teeth.

A feeling like no other spiralling around my ribcages, this's all I ever wanted.

"They were properly soused into your magic and we know what that means, shit loads of money." I remained quite putting my violin and bow aside while he spoke with a tobacco cigar rolled in between his lips.

I never wanted to play for money but nor do I've problem if we're getting it because half of the people in theater needs it. They deserve it.

It's not their fault they've to die in return of loving the devotedness that's gifted naturally.

Their talent and adroitness is the only thing keeping them in this world even though they've to remain veiled from the ordinary people.

Azi drags the stash of money on the table in my direction causing me to shake my head in refusal, "you know that I don't need this money. Save it for the renovation of theatre before we all get buried deep under it." He laughs lungs rumbling from his old age.

For God's sake the ceilings are about to cripple and chandelier might bonk my head one day.

"Or' maybe double pay our ballerina she was prepossesing last night." The twitch of his wrinkles at the corners of eyes smoothed down sadly and he sighed loudly piercing a hole in my stomach.

Anticipation wrapped around my head shoving me into the sea of worry where I'm finding it difficult to process, "what happened-" my words choking in my windpipes when he cuts me off revealing the horror information.

"She was abducted last night, her body was found shot near the suburb of where she lives." Everything's feeling claustrophobic around me and I keep on gawking him in astonished dread.

She was one hell of the great dancers, the only ballerina of our theatre. She didn't not deserved this; fuck it nobody does. I refuse to believe.

Fuck this government. Fuck this stupid world.

Gripping my hair from roots I looked him straight in the eyes, "Tell me if her family needs any help." Then the realization dawned upon me like a heavy dust she never had a family. This theatre, her skills were her only family.

"Harry my boy listen I know you'll take it as a hard toll but believe me we can't do anything for what has happened, go home have a rest you've a performance in the coming month." I was taken aback when he hugged me assuring me like a father would do, not utterly sure how to respond to interactions like these I raised my hands several times only to let them fall back.

Memories of her on tips dancing beautifully on the stage displaying infront of me as I stored my violin into case putting it aside.

We weren't close. But the few times we had exchange of words in the middle of lunch breaks and her full concentration on my foolish jokes was worth than any friendships I ever had; which I unfortunately never had.

Without even noticing the whispers let out of my chest, "I'll miss ya." Never thought you could yearn to have a single glimpse of people last time even though they were barely in your life.

I didn't changed into comfortable clothes letting the flashy suit stick to my skin, so the weigh of it will keep on making me realize that the world has no place for us.

A sacrifice for living praise.

The alley outside's pitch dark with the sun roguishly trying to dawn from the horizon.

Azi Theatre's situated at the most lifeless spot in the city possible, you've to walk through several hidden allies to reach there.

While, walking past the streets and avoiding to ruin my trousers by splashing my boots into puddle my brain havoced with unnecessary thoughts.

Thousand of faces with erastz beauty passing in mili seconds on these vast fulgurant billboards their mocks appearing like arrows to my already wounded guts; though it's all in my head it's still crawling under my skin.

A peek of cognisance from the day she made me ate her red velvet muffins dizzied around in my mind painting sorrow over me.

Even though I protested with my nonsical excuses she won ending up handing me one of her perfectly shaped muffin on my palm with a huge grin.

Just like that alot of people's smiles in my life petered out in the lost pocket of my mind.

In the littlest remembrance of her I made route to the small bakery situated two blocks away from the building I live in. The city's sleeping the only thing's shop's boards blinking and hazy bakeries showing through the thick fog.

It's open twenty four hours seven. The sky tweeked with ribbons of brume and the digital clock showed 5:00 sharp in the early dawn the large glass windows fogy from weather. The counter lady's wrapped into a comfy blanket trying not to fall asleep.

The bell chimed startling the cute old lady when I stepped inside passing by the wooden counter, "uhh..hi sorry to disturb. I'll look in myself." She nodded slumping back into her seat soon about to knock off.

Strolling in between the squeezy aisles my eyes roamed over empty refrigerators ceasing to the one at the far corner.

There in the transparent domed box are four cherry-red muffins attracting every dull view of bakery towards themselves. They're perfectly shaped and snow-flaked into red coconut shudders but failed to water my mouth.

I've no appetite to eat them. Her's used to be baked into undescribeable funny shapes but atleast I had a company while chomping them in one bite.

A reel of same memory binging and before it could permanently imprint in my brain I cleared my throat raising my pointy finger as a habit, "I'll have these!"

We said in a unison. Hold on. We? Am I that exhausted that I've started to hallucinate.

My head snapshoting towards the person from whom the feminine voice billowed in the dense warm air.

Resplendent. Florid and kaleidoscopic were the first words that striked my confused mind when my vision raked from the faux suede ankle boots richer in pigment than the red velvet muffins resting inside the refrigerator; then straight towards to meet their eyes.

Her gaze projecting warmth in this wimtertide and out of curiosity I met her eyes to recognize their colour.

Golden syrup. They're like the glassed honey pool that has squeezed the bee in the syrup lake as if it's greed for honey became it's trap, hazel speckles caged inside the rim of irises flickering with her slightest of eye movement.

We both keeps on looking at eachother the morning peace surrounding us too unsure how to break the spell.

She's wearing a cerise peach long trench wool coat a sweet rose enamel pin attached to where her heart is. Her nose and ears pink from the cold outside, but her lips plump from under the translucent violaceous bubble gum coloured gloss.

Burnette tresses of hair loose till her covered shoulders, the peach tealed beanie intact on her head.

The women standing infront of me is in abstract contrast to the pastels of the bakery and the luster of gray buildings out of these bakery walls.

The pastelish hues still prominent in her and crimson peaked up my neck at the fact that she caught me intriguing her by my peer.

Boldly her eyes remained fixated at my suit that's very exotic for strolling into a bakery. She might think so I'm a bellend idiot.

The cashier lady came to us yawning placing her hands on her hips done with two strangers just looking at eachother but she doesn't know that both of them are inquisitive of what the other is wearing this early where anybody's barely awake.

"We've the only box, decide it quick kiddos that who'll get it." The lady yawned for fiftieth time taking the box of muffins out of refrigerator.

"I came here first and I was the first one to ask." I frowned for an obvious reason and the lady was about to give me the box when a honeyed voice again melted in my ears.

Now I really wanna hear her talk for a long time, "but I pointed at it first!" She whines softly jutting her lower lip.

"But vocalisation matters the most." I quipped arching my brow at her and she glared me but her beatific personality radiating naturally from her is breaking the bitter demeanour she's trying to pull towards me.

"Kay. We can leave it upto the rock, paper and siscorss." She smirks mishveously raising her brows several times in a challenge.

Her tongue poking out from her glossy lips with her one leg straight and other bended perpendicular she placed her on foot over another balancing with only one leg like a flamingo.

The cute small lady groaned, "are you really gonna do this?" Our eyes widening and chuckles spiraling when we once again we said 'yep.' In unison.

She was ready to launch her hand in a paper and mine was stone so I quickly interrupted looking down at her legs, "why are you standin' like a swan?" Her eyes slitting into a squint and lips shrinking into a pout.

Tilting her chin towards me and standing in the same position as before just the difference now's that her hands are on her hips to convey the offend.

She ruched her lower lip inside her mouth to stop from giving a smile, so she's a buoyant person...

"Because maybe I am?" And she doesn't have simple answers to straight questions. Our fists still raised into air and the cashier lady hissed this time ready to throw hands.

"You kids are worse than my grandchildren!" She gasped comically at the words of short lady.

"That's very mean of you..." I'm clearly surprised that she isn't one bit influenced by lady's sharpness instead she's further engaging in a conversation that will result in the loss of time for all of us. "...and your daughter wouldn't be very happy to know."

"Kay. Back to where we left." She quickly turned her head towards me her complete concentration struck over me making my stomach go fluttery and funny.

"Uhm..yes- rock, paper, siscorss!" I never thought I'd play a game with some stranger who's looking so cozy and comfy in the early dew, for some muffins in the middle of empty bakery when I scarcely interact with people.

"Yes! I won." I punched the air when my siscorss cut her paper and her jaw went slack for a moment.

What the fuck you're doing Styles!?

Out of shyness and awkwardness I abruptly combed back my curls rubbing my hand down the nape of my neck not meeting her eyes.

The lady handed me the box with a boring expression while Hers stayed ticked to it, "anyway I don't even like red-velvet muffins." Yeah. Grapes are sour when fox can't get it.

She was about to walk away near to step out of shop. I want to call her but don't know her name; so out of sheer rampage I blurted out the only word that the department of my brain could manage at the time.

"Swan!" She halted in her tracks torso turning and with her chin atop of her shoulder she looked back at me smiling coyly.

"Yes. Sparkly?" She's probably calling me that because of my glittery black suit and I'm sure my ribcages did something at the name. Getting made fun of doesn't sound very good; but it is at the time.

Today's an odd day.

"Um..we can share if you want to?" Her grin etching to the corner of her lips and she jumped excitedly clasping her hands together,"Really!?"

A timid smile crawling over my features watching her get delighted at the littlest of fact. "Yes. There are two pair of muffins we both can have one pair if you like to?" I told her and she bobs her head while going towards the cash counter, patting the counter with a huge grin indicating me to put the box down.

"Your total's $8.25." We both payed half of the total price and I shoved my hands into my trouser's pockets scrutinizing my surrounding while the annoyed cashier lady packed two muffins separately for one of us.

And she rummaged through her wallet which has alot of ebullient key-chains hanging from it, who's this girl?

Why I've never seen her here before? and I've never seen a person this cheerful in the crowd of prosaic people of city.

The lady handed us our respective delights with a roll of eyes and I was the first one to take mine and quickly sprinted out of there, because I didn't know what else to do.

A whiff of pungent vanilla, mulberry pomegranate sprouting with cocoa made it's way in my nostrils when I passed beside her. Her fragrance's divergent.

You know a scent that addictively clouds your senses but it's so rare you never get to smell it again; but if out of nowhere you get to it brings back nostalgia for no reason, she smelled like that.

When I glanced back the two women were still watching my weirdness in amusement through the glass windows of bakery.

It appeared like her rose enamel pin winked at me from far.

Mick was tangled up into cassette tapes when I stepped inside my flat, the tiny bugger he is jumped atop me straddling me to the floor.

"You're lookin' like a disco ball. No need to be so proud." Instead he gave a long slicky lick to my cheek woofing at me.

He's being too cheeky but it wouldn't last long when I'll take him for a checkup. He fucking envy his doc. I'm already sensing sympathy seeking whining from him, happens every year.

Shaking my head I grunted skiding from underneath him but he's fast and climbed up in my lap while I struggled to open the box.

The minute red hilly muffins were infront of me it reminded me of honey the ooze of golden, treacle eyes. Her eyes.

Shit. It's getting hard to get rid of her delicate image that's playing like an aesthetic reel in the back of my mind.

I was jerked into reality when Mick lurched greedily eating the delcious muffin from my hand in one bite, leaving his slickness at the tip of my fingers. Before he could attack my muffin too I quickly grabbed it.

"Mick you wouldn't believe what happened today!?" I spoke in an animated voice scratching his sweet spot under his ear my mouth full of red coconut and he looked up at me with his sick puppy eyes.

"We wouldn't have been able to eat these if I wouldn't have won from...." I stuttered pondering over the fact that the nameless peachy coat girl's too stubborn and wouldn't leave my fuzzy thoughts alone, "...from swan."

Mick just barked at me going to his sleeping pillow and I practically rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms to bring myself to some consciousness from that bloody bakery fantasy.

_

When the proper morning hit I made myself breakfast and the longer I stared it the more it impeded my appetite.

With one hand offering Mick treats to deceive him into the idea that I'll take him to the park for a walk which instead will end up in a clinic's room and other hand diligent in searching word puzzles over the newspaper my jaw worked to chew the sandwich.

Throwing a sweater over my head and slipping into white washed jeans quickly I got ready to take Mick with me.

I had to scoop Mick up in my arms when he sprawled onto footpath of veterinary clinic the second he realized what was about to happen.

The kid leaning against the wall giggled loudly watching me practically drag my dog across the floor because he's too socially akward, fucking wow.

The waiting area's already full of pupils alongside their pets, someone stood up from the last bench and taking the advantage of opportunity I strided towards it sitting at it's edge.

Fifteen minutes passed since I've been caressing and comforting my scared bud, tucking his crown under my chin to make him at rest.

There's loud raucous noise when the elevator doors to the floor we're at opened wide gaining everyone's attention and when the person in tizzy strided inside the corridor I had to look at her twice.

What the fuck she's doing here? She never owned a pet and the one for whom she'll get this worried about.

Lyida's exactly same, her eyes bright as always and she has become more striking from when she was with me.

But she's not mine now, she never was.

She lurched over the receptionist with the box in her hand and distress of having to meet her eyes creeped inside me. The girl beside me threw daggers at me when I stood up hastily causing the whole bench to shake. I apologised for the disturbance.

My hands fumbled with the knob of nearest door right beside me and I had to shush Mick sternly when he kept on whining.

Heavy puff of breaths escaping my lungs when I stumbled inside some empty doctor's room shutting the door behind me, back meeting against the wooden plank of door, cold sweat breaking under the nape of my neck and I blinked several times taking in my surrounding.

I'm a weak son of a bitch.

It's fuckin' gruelling to be in her presence. It's hellish to meet her sympathetic gaze for me and I'm a bastard who's pathetic as hell.

I have to be away, I've to go right now. Trotting towards the large window panes I uncliped them stepping outside the shared balcony of room.

There's a drain pipe so I can climb it down to the ground and get the hell away from here.

Maybe, Mick was right it was a bad day and idea to come here.

Adjusting Mick inside my armpit I threw my one leg over the rail and then the second, my breath wavering as I gripped the rail tighter taking baby steps towards the plastic pipe.

The smack of air stinging my eyes while the cars are being parked infront of me at the parking lot.

A delucet voice clamoured from inside startling me to death and Mick barked lowly in reaction, "Whoops! Sorry to interrupt your suicidal mission." I turned my head steadily to see who's it even though I can comprehend the sherbet similarity.

Her voice has melted like a hot maroon stamp into my ears since the dawn hour and with the corner of my eyes I watched her leaning against the stretcher.

"But let me tell you Sparkly this height would cause you nothing but two broken ribs, one fractured thigh and you might loose your brain memory. No more than that." I gawked her appalled while she remained peacific arms folded infront of her chest, into different cardinal clothes now.

Again a replete splitness to what every other person's wearing outside.

Even though my intentions are nothing like that but saying this to someone who's about to take their life doesn't seem very pleasing.

I was about to speak something into my defence that she misinterpreted things but she cut me off popping her chewing gum and capturing the ropes of sticked bubble around her lips with her teeth.

Fuck.

.

A/n; Please lovies. Reblog it and gimme feedback alot of kisses!

[smileyoongle]

Come Back Home (A Kim Taehyung Mafia AU) // Part 8

Summary: You were dead. Or at least that's what Kim Taehyung thought. But love never dies. A myth, yes. And maybe that's why when he finds out that you are alive, he may have already lost you.

Pairing: Mafia!Taehyung×Reader

An unopened bottle of whiskey sat on the cherry coloured coffee table, it's expensive label glinting in the dim lights of the messy bedroom. Taehyung stood by the french windows, overlooking the empty lawn at the front of the mansion. His eyes mirrored the vacant garden, not a swirl of emotion evident in them. No doubt, it was because you weren't standing beside him but Taehyung never thought he'd be so weak. For the first time in forever, he felt as if a part of him had been ripped away.

Life was a bitch. That much Taehyung could tell without any hesitation. 

He sighed, moving to open the bottle of Glenfiddich that called out to him. The only time Taehyung didn't think about you was when he was drunk. His sobriety was a problem that he wanted to permanently get rid of. Too bad, he had to stay a little hopeful incase the universe decided to have mercy on him. 

A low buzz cut through the silence of the room, Taehyung's head jerking towards his phone that sat on the bed. He frowned, wondering who was calling him this late. His long ring clad fingers wrapped around the silver mobile, lifting it up with ease. To say that Taehyung was pissed was an understatement because there was no way to describe the sourness that filled his being upon seeing Minho's name flashing on his screen.

Your fake boyfriend.

Taehyung's teeth grinded together, his finger swiping across the screen before he placed the phone next to his ear. He was ready to spew a number of profanities but he opted for a better approach. This call could be related to you. 

"Hello…" Taehyung said into the phone, placing a hand on his hip and pushing his jacket towards the back. With every passing second, Taehyung's patience was wearing thin. For a minute, he swore he could hear the heavy breathing of someone on the other end. 

What the fuck is happening? 

And then, just as Taehyung's mouth opened to snap at Minho, your shaky voice hit his ears.

"Taehyung, help me…" 

It was like a breath of fresh air but not for too long. Your voice was the most beautiful sound in the world, Taehyung always thought that. But this time, his heart didn't flutter, it sank deeper and deeper into a black hole of never-ending worry and panic. Because that's what it sounded like. Your voice was heavy and strained and all the bad things that Taehyung could think of. 

"Y/N? Are you- Did something happen?" He asked, his eyebrows knitting together as his heart throbbed in his chest. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He could sense the discomfort you were in and he just wanted to swoop you into his arms and tell you that no one was going to touch you. Not again.

Your whimpers had Taehyung running down to the living room where the other members were engrossed in different activities. Once Taehyung put the phone on speaker, everyone's attention was on him.

"I came to this club, it's close to Yoona's house. She was really drunk and we had to pick her up but…" 

Taehyung's mind immediately clicked, his eyes lighting up in recognition of the place you were talking about. That club was his favourite ever since he first saw you. He used to lurk around Yoona's house and watch you everyday, not being able to understand why he was so infatuated with you. Now that he knew all the answers, he lost you.

"Go on, love. But?" Taehyung prompted, his eyes meeting Jungkook's, who was ready to run outside and start the car. In a matter of seconds, all the members were scattered around the room. Some calling for backup. Some loading up their guns. Hoseok noticed the redness around Taehyung's eyes, concluding that he was sleep deprived along with being a little drunk. He had to be. There was a certain stagger in the way he walked and anyone could tell that he was trying to lose the alcohol for you. 

You really made him a better man.

"...there were these men with guns, shooting people and looking for someone. They caught Minho before I could do anything but they weren't looking for him. They were looking for me."

The crack of your voice made jungkook's heart clench, his body moving towards the door to get the car running. There was no way he was gonna let you suffer anymore. Taehyung was too shocked to think properly but he couldn't exactly refuse when Jin pulled him outside behind him. His lungs burned, anger pouring over every inch of him. He didn't know what to say. Someone was looking for you? 

Taehyung mentally reminded himself to bring you home this time. Obviously, Minho and Yoona weren't capable of taking care of you. They were immature and stupid. What was Taehyung even thinking when he let you go with that two faced excuse of a best friend? 

"Tell me where you are right now." Taehyung said, his fingers tightening around the phone as he sat in the passenger seat of the car, nudging his head towards the road ahead for Jungkook to start driving.

"The bathroom. Please hurry, I think they know I'm here." Your voice was softer now, accompanied by your heavy breathing. You could feel the panic rising in your chest, your vision blurring with the onslaught of tears that refused to stop. It was a miracle you were even conscious, considering the way your head was spinning. 

You didn't want to go through all that again. The torture, the beatings, the emotional breakdown and the blood. Your food was begging to be let out, bile rising in your throat.

Just then, a loud bang echoed through the bathroom, your eyes immediately falling at the locked door. You saw the shadows from the little space beneath the white door, a number of voices filling your ears along with a flood of sobs wracking through your body. 

"Open the damn door and I'll take it easy on you!" A gruff voice yelled, your lips quivering and your heart ready to jump out of your chest. You staggered to the closest bathroom stall and shut the door, pushing yourself at the farthest wall and crouching down.

"Taehyung! They're trying to get in, please please hurry." 

Taehyung clenched his fists, glancing at Jungkook, silently telling him to step up. Jungkook's hands were burning with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. The air in the car was dense, Hoseok and Namjoon sitting at the edge of their seats. A couple other cars joined the black camaro, Jungkook's eyes narrowing at Jimin in the car behind. They were almost there, Taehyung could see the familiar streets he used to walk on, the emptiness of them making him feel queasy. 

"Y/N, listen to me. Don't leave the bathroom, okay? We're almost-"

A loud scream filled the car followed by a click, Taehyung's eyes widening in worry. If you were to get hurt by any chance, Taehyung was straight up gonna burn himself alive.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the seat, clasping his hands together and praying, for if there was a god in the universe, he was willing to become a believer for you.

The tires screeched against the asphalt as Jungkook took a rough turn, Taehyung's sad whispers going unheard.

"Please be okay ...I promise I'll take you home this time."

💔🖤💔🖤💔🖤

Your knees were pressed against the smooth tiles of the lit up dance floor, your head hung low with your hands tied behind your back. There was a sharp pain in your forehead from when you were hit with the hilt of a gun, only to be dragged out of the bathroom after that. Minho's phone was crushed in front of your eyes, fear taking over you on being away from Taehyung's voice.

He was holding you together all this while, his voice was like a barrier, keeping you away from all the problems coming your way.

And now that he was gone, you weren't okay. Your vision was clouded and blurry, distraught images flashing in your mind, all tainted red. It scared you, your blood running cold as a whimper left your mouth.

Minho was a few feet away from you, crouched in the same position as you. He felt useless for not being able to protect you but he wasn't really expecting you to come inside the club. For now, all he knew was that if everyone left this place alive, then Taehyung was definitely not gonna trust him around you anymore. And somehow, he was okay with it. 

A man with a black cap walked over to you, his cold hand gripping your jaw and pulling your face closer to him. You could smell the smoke and alcohol in his breath, his mischievous grin sending shivers down your spine. Whatever was going to happen, you could tell you were going to have nightmares about it for the next year.

Unless... Taehyung came to save you on time. You trusted him, for a reason unknown to you, you trusted him more than any of the people around you.

"So this is the girl boss wanted to get a taste of…" you winced, the stranger's fingers digging into your cheeks and making your lips turn pouty. His disgusting breath fanned your face, your hands hopelessly squirming behind you in an attempt to get rid of the ropes tied around your wrists.

"... I don't blame him. She looks like a gem, maybe I should get a taste before taking you to him." He taunted, your eyes frantically looking around for anyone who could help you. He leaned in closer, a cry escaping your mouth at the proximity.

Tae...where are you.. 

As soon as you thought of him, a gush of warmth overwhelmed your senses, the sound of rushed footsteps invading your ears. 

"Get your hands off of her or I'll fucking end you."

A sigh of relief escaped your mouth upon seeing him standing with the rest of his men at the entrance, his jaw clenched and his eyes red with anger. Taehyung had every single person's attention, the man in front of you letting go of your cheeks and standing up straight. You sensed the hesitation in his stance, your own feet picking you up and taking off in Taehyung's direction, your eyes now shedding happy tears. 

Taehyung's anger was gone when he saw you running towards him, his lips breaking into a small smile. But that was gone as soon as he saw the man behind you lifting his gun to aim at you, Taehyung's breath hitching and his eyes glaring at him daringly.

All of Taehyung's men had their guns up, ready to blow everyone's brains off. 

"Don't shoot until she's with me. I don't want her to see any of this." Taehyung mumbled, loud enough for his members to hear. Those words were easier said than done, Jungkook's throat tightening with every step you took.

This was a game now. A game of who gives in first and Taehyung knew he was gonna lose. If at all that man decided to pull the trigger, everything was over.

Yoongi's fingers tightened around his gun, his eyes widening when he saw the slight twitch of your attacker's gun. Yoongi ran towards you, waiting for you to go behind him so that he could take care of this and as soon as your feet were beside him, he fired, his bullet hitting the man in the shoulder. You closed your eyes on hearing the loud gunshot, throwing yourself into Taehyung's arms immediately. 

Taehyung wrapped his hands around your body, pressing you closer to him before turning around to protect you from any bullet coming his way. He closed his eyes, burying his face in your hair as you sobbed into his chest. Your hands were still tied behind you and you ached to hold him, his scent calming you down and letting you know that you were gonna be okay now. 

A series of gunshots echoed through the club, your erratic breathing making Taehyung realize that he needed to get you out of the building. He rubbed your back, looking over his shoulder to see bodies of the men who had threatened your life. Well most of them anyway. In the middle of it all lay Yoona with Minho trying to sober her up. Taehyung's expression turned sour, his eyes showing the disgust he felt towards your best friend. 

"Tae, we got this. You can go." Jimin announced, glancing at Taehyung before shooting another wannabe down. Taehyung firmly nodded, turning back to you and placing his hands on your cheeks to make you look at him. The sight he saw was absolutely heart wrenching, your eyes red and teary, your forehead bruised at the corner and your lips quivering uncontrollably. You looked so fragile, Taehyung was afraid he'd let you go and you'd fall. 

"Love, we need to get out of here, okay?" He explained, leaning closer to you and looking at you with the most gentle eyes one could muster. You inhaled deeply, sniffling and nodding while trying to bring your hand at the front. Taehyung saw the ropes digging into your skin, another wave of anger washing over him. How could someone treat you like this? 

He wrapped his arms around you, his head resting on your shoulder as he peeked down at your hands, shielding you from the bullets that came your way. He quickly untied the ropes, taking hold of your hand and leading you outside.

You stared at his back and then your intertwined hands, forgetting all your worries for a moment. The cold night air nipped at your skin, your heart beating normally again. You didn't care what was going on inside, your attention was only on Taehyung. There was a certain air of familiarity around him and you knew there was something more to the missing pieces of your brain. The way he had held you, was enough to tell you that he wasn't just your best friend. You needed to get over with your diary tonight. No matter what.

Taehyung stopped in front of his car, opening the door to let you in when he felt your arms around him, holding onto him as if your life depended on him. Taehyung's heart skipped a beat, his lips parting in surprise at the words that left your mouth.

"I mean a lot to you, don't I?" 

Taehyung looked down at your hands that were wrapped around his stomach, his fingers grazing over your skin as he replied.

"More than you'll ever know."

Taglist: @min-t-posts @annoyinglyunabashedangel @bringitseijoh @kpopgirlbtssvt @jeonjello @shadowstark @bangtanniexxx @wendyiiwl @imlostindarkness @sinnersblogg @jazzytfw @lovestrucked-again @hopetookmysoul @angelwolfexorcist @taes-strawberry @ireallylikefoodandyoutube @annoyingpessimist @hajimaoppaa @atwoodscott @kawaiimusiccollection @byeolizzie @sleepysavya @sensiblebutch @maiden-mars @soundofwonderland @the-fangirl-lorax @btsarmysvtcarat @youthandtears @novelread000 @glitterytreephantom @chocolatemilk1221 @cookiemonstermusic258 @iamcrazyforkdramas @luckyzipperscissorsbat @kpop-is-life100 @entitledtolove @somewhereinthestarss @vertueuxeuse @anothermisspark @xanny91 @mayumioutloud @rulz0821 @bbangtan-ddaeng @got7-yeah-got7onmymind @kassandravictoria @flowersgirl02

Why can't I tag the people that I normally tag....this is annoying. I'm sorry if I missed out anyone else. Also, Tumblr just became ugly. So...what did you think about this chapter? Let me know if you wanna be tagged! Happy days are coming...lol.

-XX

[fal-carrington]

Just The Two Of Us Pt.2

Pairing: Kamilah x Mc x Adrian

(Part1)

Disclaimer: The characters are NOT mine

Prompt: After the last night fighting against Gaius, before his fall, he puts his plan into execution, changing the lives of Adrian, Kamilah and Mia forever. Friendships may end, a heart may be broken and a new love may arise. In the end who will win the girl's heart?

Tag list: @loveshamelessly @scarlet-letter-a0114 @thecleveridiot09 @galaxyside-0 @desiree-0816

6 months later

"Oh, damn it!" Mia screamed as she landed on the other side of the Raines Corp basement, her back hitting an airbed tightly, needless to say that was useless. One more attempt, another failed attempt to try to be disconnected from Kamilah. Lily ran to help her friend get up, Kamilah leaned her back against the cold stone wall a few feet away from Mia in the basement, her back also sore from the impact. Gaius was not joking when he said that the girl's pain would be her pain from now on. The queen frowned with that inconvenient pain, adjusting her posture and rearranging her suit. "No, no!" Adrian shouted through the thirteenth-century book in the middle of the basement, desperately searching for answers as he saw no result of his new experience. That was all he'd been working on for months, trying to find a way to disconnect both. First he had appealed to science, hired the best scientists money could provide, believing their blood to be the main source connecting them, but finding that the blood that bound them now was only one, and that Mia's blood had adapted to Kamilah's, once again found himself frustrated in all his attempts by using science to be flaws. So he called for the only possible alternative. The supernatural. Jameson was dead, Gaius dead. The only ones with the answer were dead. Kamilah sighed approaching her friend. "Adrian." She tried to call him. "Do not even try, Kamilah." He refused to look at her. Kamilah, unlike Adrian, knew how to recognize a lost cause when she saw one. She no longer had any hope of disconnecting herself from Mia. After several failed attempts and no positive response, there was not much to do. She was cynical and responsible enough to warn him that the situation could not go on for long. "We both know very well that of all the things Gaius has put together for us both, they all had permanent effects. I can not believe this time there's a way out.” Kamilah said quietly. "No, this one. I will not give up,” he said convulsively. "Look at her." Kamilah pointed at Mia, leaning against Lily's arms. "If you continue with these failed assaults, she will end up dead. Is that what you want? You'll kill her!” Adrian turned his face for the first time, there was a somber expression on his face, but his face lit up at the sight of Mia, but then that thought came into his mind that he could never have Mia, since she belonged to Kamilah, and Kamilah did not even tolerate her. "Kamilah, you do not know what's best for her!" He turned to her. "Lately I know what's best for her more than you!" "What are you insinuating, Kamilah ?!" Adrian's deep voice increased. "Enough!" Mia's voice echoed through the room, drawing their attention. She tried to stand, unsuccessfully, causing Lily to hold her again. "This is exactly what Gaius wanted, to get you two to fight, do not you see?” She approached the two tall vampires with Lily at her side. She turned to Adrian, her eyes softening. "Adrian... I understand that you are frustrated with this, believe me, I am too. But this time, I am with Kamilah on this one, you are giving every day more of yourself pursuing a goal that we may never reach. We tried everything, and nothing works. And I feel... That part of me dies every day more in seeing you like this. Maybe there's nothing else we can do.” She touched Adrian's face with an obvious sadness on his face. Her brief touch, until she moved her hand away and went to the stairs with Lily, leaving them alone. Adrian touched his cheek watching her walk away.

"Adrian. We have been in this situation for months, I did not want to be living this as much as you, I know perfectly well that the three of us are going through the same pain—" Kamilah started to speak, but was interrupted by him. "Are we, Kamilah?" His tone suddenly hostile. "As far as I'm aware, Mia and I are in love with each other, and we can not be together because of the circumstances, and you know that and still, you married her." Kamilah opened her mouth in disbelief. "Excuse me, I just did it to protect you! Gaius would have killed you!" "He would have killed me anyway!" "If it were me, you would have done the same!" Kamilah said. "Do you think it was in my plans to marry a mortal in her twenties, knowing that my closest friend is in love with her ?!" Kamilah touched her own chest, Adrian rolled his eyes with his arms crossed. "She promised before everyone to be faithful to you! She will be bonded and married to you until her death! How do you think I feel about this? Have to see my best friend have everything I wanted, everything that was meant to be mine? And you do not even like her!" "I did all this for you, I gave up my freedom, I married a mortal, I saved your life and her life, and yet, do you think I'm selfish? I'm well aware of your feelings for the girl, I would never do any of this if your life was not at risk! Mia saw the situation with the same eyes and did the same for you! " "Do not put Mia in the middle of it!" He shouted angrily. "But, she's in the middle of it. She's part of that. Do you really think she'd be happy to see you dead? How do you think I'd stay with you dead? Never in my entire life have I even considered the idea of ​​marriage, and she is only twenty-two years old, she is too young. You know perfectly well that there's no way I'm going to have feelings for her!" "Do not make promises you can not keep, Kamilah." Adrian sighed, running a hand over his face, tired. His eyes on the floor throughout that conversation, when he looked at Kamilah, there was a look of resignation on his face. A sad look, mixed with anger. Kamilah opened her mouth to argue, but then fell silent. "I... I'll stop trying. For now. For her,” he said decisively, Kamilah nodded.

"We still have an issue to address. The Ferals.” Kamilah said, reminding him that there were still hordes of ferals, created by Jameson and scattered throughout the city. "We have to deal with the rest, they are a threat. To the city and to us.” "I agree. I can deal with them,” Adrian said. Kamilah took a deep breath for what she was going to say, whether or not that had to be said, she had to discuss it with Adrian. "What is it?" He asked, noting the uncertainty on Kamilah's face. "I believe it's better, and safer... As long as we're dealing with the ferals, Mia stays with me at my house," she said, waiting perfectly for Adrian's confused and angry reply. "Absolutely not!" He said shaking his head. "Adrian, think about it. She's connected to me, I can protect her. If she's in my line of sight, I can keep her safe and prevent any harm from happening to her, that pursuit can last for months, maybe even years.” Kamilah said rationally, she knew that although Adrian denied it, he knew she was right. "No. Never. She can stay with me there. I can also keep her safe." "We both know this did not work out very well last time." Kamilah crossed her arms. Adrian bit his lips, running his hand through his hair, the frustration in his face evident. "You know nothing's gonna happen between us." "You two in the same bed?! Let's not discuss this, Mia will stay with me. I can take care of her.” He pointed to himself, angry. "I'm trying to talk to you civilly, but it seems like you do not understand, I have more voting power than you do. We're talking about my wife, after all." Adrian opened his mouth in disbelief, the apparent anger on his face. "The same girl you consider irresponsible and a bad influence. The wife that you do not nurture any kind of feelings. So do not try to pretend you care about her.” He said bitterly. "I swore I would take care of her, that I would be faithful, in joy and sorrow, until death do us part. You know me well enough, I take my promises very seriously. She is my wife, and she will be my wife until we find a way to undo what that monster did, which seems impossible.”

"What are you two arguing about now?" Mia appeared on the staircase, the weariness evident on her pale face, they both turned to her. "We were arguing about where you're staying," Kamilah said patiently. Mia walked downstairs, looking at both of them uncertainly. "I have a house, guys." She pointed as if it were obvious. Kamilah sighed with her hands on her waist, Adrian's face softened. "With the situation of the ferals, with our... Situation. Kamilah and I thought it might be safer for you to be a place where we can take care of you and protect you.” Adrian approached her, gently touching Mia's hand. "But, Lily..." "Lily, it's not an option for you," Kamilah said coldly. "And... what are the options?" Mia bit her lip, looking uncertainly at both of them. "You're more than welcome to come and live with me in my penthouse." Adrian smiled, passing security and comfort to her with that look. "You know... You know I'll always be there to take care of you." "Or... You can come live with me," Kamilah said quietly. Mia's eyes widened in surprise at the queen's. "With you?" She asked in surprise. Kamilah sighed. "Mia, listen. You and I... We're married now.” Kamilah said choosing her words carefully, noting that Adrian flinched at that. Mia looked at her shyly with interest and surprise in her face. "And we're connected, until we find a way to undo that, if we can do that, you're my responsibility. You're my wife, I have to protect you.” Mia noticed the rare vulnerability in Kamilah's voice. "I do not want to be a burden on you." "You will not be. I promise.” Kamilah shook her head.

Mia swallowed hard looking at the two vampires who looked at her expectantly, waiting for her answer. She turned to Adrian after a long moment, touching his hand. "You know how I feel about you, do not you?" She asked softly, Adrian nodded. "I loved every second that we both spent together, you'll always have a place in my heart Adrian. You know how I love you.” Kamilah looked away as she heard this, avoiding looking at that scene. "But... Kamilah, are my wife now." The sadness on Adrian's face was apparent. "We did what we had to do, and I do not regret doing what I did, you're alive after all." Mia gave a weak smile. "You do not love, Kamilah," Adrian said in anguish. "But that was a real marriage... That we both can not undo. And I promised, I promised I would be faithful to her. And right now, the right thing to do... It would be if we both lived together. Please, don’t make me choose between you and her.” Mia said with tears in her eyes. Adrian sighed.

“Why? Cause you’d choose her?” He asked almost crying with his eyes wet. "Yeah. I’d choose her.” Mia said unexpectedly, causing Kamilah to look at her intrigued. The girl was choosing her. Something she would never expected to hear from Mia.

“I understand. I think our relationship just ended.” He said sadly. "I'll give you both privacy," Kamilah said after a while as she watched the scene of exchanged glances between the two, she had to get away from that environment fast. The only thing that crossed her mind was to go to the balcony of Raines Corp, take a breath or feel the cool breeze of the night beating her face, it always relieved the eminent tension in her mood. She did not think she would find Lily, eating a sandwich in Adrian's private restaurant. "Heya." Lily smiled as she approached the counter. Kamilah immediately picked up a bottle of whiskey, filling her glass. "Whoa, geez... Things are worse than I thought." Lily commented watching her drink the glass in one turn.

“I have 2063 years old and I went through a lot of lovers, how many you can imagine.” Kamilah laughed bitterly. “They all died with the time and I went on, but in any moment of my life I would imagine that I would be married.” She said looking at her wedding band at her finger. “If we were back in my time at Egypt’s, I can swear things would be different.”

“Come on, Mia is not so bad, you know that. She’s brave, she cares a lot about people. If you give her a chance to meet her for real, you gonna see that.” Lily tried. "Mia hates me. Adrian hates me. I ruined the happiness of the happy couple. They just broke up downstairs, Adrian basically gave her a ultimatum and she choose me over him.” Kamilah filled her glass with whiskey again. "And all I was trying to do was save both of their lives."

“Oh, god. I can’t believe this is actually happening," Lily pointed out. "But... You and Mia are a couple now. You had to save the life of your best friend, and you ended up with a wife. And, admitting it, Mia is kind of hot and fucking smart, you know that.”

“I’m not interested in my best friend’s ex. Adrian would never forgive me if I fell for her. Which we both know there’s absolutely no chance of happening” Kamilah said angrily. “I’m the only one rational and responsible here, can not they both see that we have no other choice?" She filled her glass again with whiskey. "They're in love, usually people like that do not see the voice of reason," Lily said quietly. "So, what are you going to do?" "I believe... I believe the right thing to do would be to live as a couple. I mean, there's no other way to get rid of it, with her, I can make things right, I can make my home her home, take care of her, give a health plan. A good life for her, we both know she deserves it. She's young, I do not mean to arrest her, she can go out with anyone she wants, sleep with whomever she wants, but in the eyes of society, we can just... Pretend.” Kamilah shrugged and sipped her glass of whiskey. "You know, for someone who does not care about her, you really are willing to do that," Lily said with a smile. "How... how has she been going these last few months?" Kamilah asked. "She's kind cries sometimes," Lily admitted. "She's pretty stubborn to admit she's not satisfied with the situation, but she's not unhappy about her choice to save Adrian's life, she does not regret it, but just between us... About the situation being this way, I'm glad she has you to take care of her. I know you will not disappoint her. And, maybe you end up feeling something for her that you did not expect."

Kamilah looked at her with those words. What did Lily mean? "When can we go?" Mia's voice made them both look at her, standing between the doors of the restaurant, next to Adrian.

Mia and Lily’s apartment "Do not forget your sweaters!" Lily came out of Mia's closet carrying three sweaters in her hands as she helped the girl pack her bags. Kamilah waited patiently in the living room, reading her e-mails on her cell phone. "I do not know if all my clothes will fit in two suitcases," Mia said looking at her luggage on her bed. "I guess I'll have to come get the rest of my things later," she said contempltively. “I'll miss my bed though.” She touched the sheets.

“Kamilah’s house will make you forget this place really quickly, I’m telling you her place is huge and amazing as fuck, but I’m going to miss my best friend.” Lily said smiling.

“Own, Lils.” Mia opened her arms, hugging Lily tight. Lily wiped the tears from Mia’s face.

“Kamilah will take care of you. She may seems cold and difficult, but she’s nice, you know that.” Lily said. “I can’t believe you are actually married.” Lily laughed.

“I know, I know.” Mia wiped the rest of the tears with her sweater sleeve. “Neither do I. It’s so strange.” Mia shrugged. “Anyways, help me pack the rest, she will not be happy if we make this any longer.”

When the two finished packing Mia's things, they ran into Kamilah in the living room, who stood up gracefully, putting her cell phone in the pocket of her jacket, and elegantly placed between them.

"Is that all?" She asked, furrowing her face towards the suitcases.

"W-Well, there's still some things, but I can pick them up later," Mia said looking at that tall, beautiful woman in front of her. She had to stop stuttering every time Kamilah put those cold, brown eyes on her.

"Okay, then." Kamilah came over to retrieve the suitcases.

"Careful, it's heavy—" Mia tried to stop her, but Kamilah took both of them with ease and turned to the front door without saying another word. Mia and Lily exchanged glances.

"That was scary and sexy," Lily observed. Mia rolled her eyes. The two followed the vampire queen to the entrance of the apartment, Kamilah packed the suitcases with agility in the trunk of her Mercedes, and got into the car without another word. "If you need anything. Call me,” Lily said hugging her best friend again.

"I will." Mia smiled before getting into the car, intimidated to be in Kamilah's car. Lily put her head in the window.

"Drive safely, childrens," she said with a smile, Kamilah rolled her eyes, leaving Lily waving back. A few blocks ahead, Kamilah drove in silence, Mia curled up in the car seat, hugging herself, staring at the vehicle around her. She had never been in a car so elegant and big. Kamilah’s perfume was all over the place.

"Are you cold?" Kamilah asked looking at her of the corner of her eye.

"Just a little," she replied timidly. She saw Kamilah turn on the car heater. Seconds before she came sneezing.

"Are you feeling well? We can drop by the pharmacy,” Kamilah suggested.

"I'm... It's just that with all these experiments we've been through, I end up with low resistance. I caught the flu."

"And you let Adrian almost kill you today with that craziness ?! Very responsible of you, Mia.” Kamilah scolded her.

"What did you want me to do? Adrian was so excited that he had finally figured out a way to free both of us. I had to.”

"And now you're sick," Kamilah said.

"I'm fine." Mia rolled her eyes.

Despite Mia's complaints, Kamilah drove to the pharmacy to buy drugs and painkillers for her.

Kamilah’s penthouse

"Here we are." Kamilah said as the doors to her penthouse opened, she stepped in front of Mia, carrying her suitcases. Mia followed just behind, looking around that gigantic place. The young girl swallowed hard, discredited with that place, it was like being between modernity and antiquity, everything around her was so sophisticated, elegantly decorated and full of old and historical things. Mia took a few steps hesitantly, Kamilah left her keys on her key chain. It was all so open and black, she could see the buildings of New York through the glass walls, the view was beautiful, but it was impossible not to look at the decorative items of Kamilah's house. She watched the Egyptian objects on a glass table leaning against the wall, beneath an Italian painting of a Renaissance artist, which Mia remembered in her history lessons. She took another few steps, spotting a large leather couch near a black piano. Certainly there was much more of it, much more to see and explore, she knew it.

"... Mia?" Kamilah called out. Just then, she realized that Kamilah was talking to her and she was not paying attention.

"Uh?" She asked disoriented.

"I asked if you were hungry," Kamilah said as she pulled off her jacket.

"Oh no. I'm good.” Mia said quietly, her arms crossed, still looking around her shyly. “Thank you.”

"I think maybe I'm with low stockpile of human food at the moment, I was not ready for your arrival, but we can sort this out in the morning, I can ask Maria to go to the market and get what you want,” Kamilah said. She was always so practical... With everything. She take it as if everything could be solved with only a point of order.

"Who... Who is Maria?" Mia asked curiously.

"My maid," Kamilah said.

"And, she knows about... you?" Mia asked.

"Yes, but she is trustworthy. She's been with me for almost fifteen years. She comes two days a week to clean the place, so do not be surprised if you see her around here often,” Kamilah said. "Well, I'll introduce you to the house." Kamilah said walking ahead, Mia hurried to follow her. "It's your home now, which means you can do whatever you want, go wherever you want, eat whatever you want, any time you want, without the need to ask me." Kamilah went down a long corridor, soon her office appeared where—according to her, it was the place where she spent most of her time in the house, the library, the gym, the guest rooms... And finally the last room. Her bedroom. "This is my room. Our room.” She introduced. "Our?" Mia stepped inside, staring at the black-walled room, it was huge, in the center of the room was a king size bed with white sheets, a large rug, a closet on the right, and the other side of room was the bathroom. "Like... We're going to sleep... Together... In the same bed?" Mia pointed to the bed. Kamilah looked at her as if questioning her sanity. "Do not worry. I do not bite.” Kamilah said approaching her. “You can decorate as you please, but leave the bed. I like, it’s comfortable.” "That's not what I'm worried about." Mia swallowed hard looking at her. "I barely stay at home, so the bed will be practically yours. You can have the left side of the closet, I do not care.” Kamilah left Mia's suitcases on the bed. "So, what do you think?" She looked at the girl who was expressionless. "You have a hell of a home," Mia commented, taking an unexpected smile from Kamilah. "I'll take it as a compliment. I think you can handle yourself from now on.” Kamilah said.

“...Do you mind if I take a shower?" Mia asked, Kamilah turned to her with frowning brows and a grimace. "Uh... Right, this is my house now too." She said, Kamilah nodded.

“I need a drink.” She said leaving Mia alone in that huge room.

“Home sweet home, I guess.” Mia said quietly to herself with her hands on her waist.

After a long bath in Kamilah's bathtub, Mia finally finished packing, putting on a set of pajamas, a pair of shorts and a tank top, she wiped her blond hair and left the bathroom hesitantly. Everything in Kamilah's house was large, dazzling and charming. She was not accustomed to all this, and she doubted she would ever get used to it. This was her life now, living in a penthouse, living a life of luxury next to Kamilah, the vampire queen, CEO and best friend of Mia's ex-boyfriend. This could not be stranger and uncomfortable. She sighed, taking a deep breath before leaving the bathroom, at least the bath had helped to get that bad feeling out of her body, she took her medicine, and when she reached the living room, she came across Kamilah.

She was quiet and calm, playing on her piano a beautiful and sad melody. A glass of whiskey lay on top of the piano. Mia stopped to look at her, was anything that woman could not do without perfection? Kamilah's brown eyes rose from the keys and found hers, she felt her cheeks burn with Kamilah's warm gaze.

"You... You are really good at that," Mia complimented. The shadow of a smile appeared on Kamilah's face, Mia approached her, Kamilah's eyes never left her, Kamilah could not help, but notice the curves of the girl's body in those intimate clothes, the almost transparent shorts, the blouse with the cleavage marking her breasts. Her blond hair fell over her shoulders, messed up. She was really beautiful and attractive, there was no way to denying it.

The damn thought of throwing the girl in her bed and having her all night long disturbed her. She wondered what Mia's taste would be, her lips, what it would be like to kiss and bite that whole neck. To stare into those green eyes as she made the girl scream her name. At that moment, the queen cursed herself for that sudden desire to invade her conscious, Mia was the love of Adrian's life. And Adrian was her best friend, she could not have her.

"Thank you." She said taking her eyes off Mia, and focusing on the keys. "What is it?" Kamilah asked as she noticed the girl's uncomfortable behavior. "I know that look, you're thinking of something."

The blonde bit her rosy lips uneasily, putting a blonde wig behind her ear.

"... I have some conditions, for this between us to work." Mia forced herself to look into Kamilah's mesmerizing brown eyes. The vampire raised a perfect eyebrow in response, the curiosity killing her from within.

"Conditions?" Mia bit her lower lip.

"Requests," she corrected herself.

"Go ahead." Kamilah nodded. Mia took a deep breath before continuing.

"I need a job. I do not want to stand here doing nothing alI day. I can not work for Raines Corp after all that's happened.” Mia sighed. "... And I also do not want the men’s of your Clan following me around the city. I'm not used to it, I do not like it."

"I can think of the first suggestion, but the second is non-negotiable. They're protecting you."

"Kamilah ..." Mia shook her head. It was almost impossible to argue with Kamilah, her word was always final.

"Absolutely not." Kamilah stood, Mia drew back a few steps, startled by the sudden movement of the beautiful woman in front of her, where Kamilah approached her until she was inches from the girl's face. Those brown eyes studied her coolly, her face impassive, perfect.

"I'll try to clear things up for you." Kamilah began to speak in a quiet voice. "I did what I did to protect Adrian, not for you. For him. I could not care less about the life of another mortal. And it cost me a lot, including my friendship with him. You and I are married and connected, whether you like it or not, that is, we have roles to fulfill with each other in the eyes of society, you can think as an act. Adrian does not seem to understand, so I hope you understand, I'm not expecting your love, your affection, or anything like that, so do not wait back from me. You do not have to like me, much less I of you, if you fulfill your part of the agreement, that is to be my fake wife, you can have everything you could possibly want. I will fulfill with mine, and both we are satisfied. I’m a woman of word, Mia”

“This... This is a wedding, a relationship, not one of your contracts!” Mia argued, red faced.

“Yes, it is. It's just business, now you’re my associate, so don’t think about fail with me. Understood?” Kamilah said those final words like a hangman about to kill her new victim, she passed Mia silently and entered her office. A solitary tear trickled down the girl's face as she watched her life turn upside down.

[lousimusician]

Cheater -- Part 2

Pairing: Mob!Tom x Reader

Warning: Sexual harassment, violence

A/N: I wanted to get this out sooner but I've been so busy recently. So sorry for the wait

______

It had been three months since you caught Tom. Three months since you walked out on him forever.

You hadn't seen him since that day. You had been relying on Tom's money for so long, you had to stay over a friend's house until you made enough money to rent an apartment.

It had been hard, but you refused to go back to him. Leaving him had its perks. You didn't have to live in fear for his or your own life anymore, you got to focus on your education, and you got to fix old friendships you lost. Overall, you felt like a normal person for once.

But at the same time, you were in so much pain. The two of you were engaged. You were supposed to get married. You loved him, you didn't believe you could ever love someone that much again. He made you feel beautiful and loved. He was a drug that you had been addicted to, and at some points you believed the withdrawal symptoms would kill you. But you were strong, and you wouldn't run back to him.

Tom on the other hand had been doing much worse than you had. Nothing in Tom's life brought him joy. You were always the one to make him genuinely happy. So with you gone from his life without a single word, he had lost himself in his work. He gained more and more enemies every day because of it. The more money and power he gained was never enough, he was insatiable, craving something that would make the pain a little more bearable. And he found that one thing that made the pain lessen, was to make sure you were safe. He had you followed, had tabs kept on you every week. He knew everything. He even knew that you had gotten a little better from the break up every week while he continued to worsen.

Tom sighed, throwing the papers down on his desk and leaning back into his seat. Frenetic knocking sounded from his office door.

"Come in," Tom shouted, annoyed.

The doors swung open revealing one of his men. "Sir, (Y/N) was kidnapped." The man panted.

Tom's eyes widened and he stood up abruptly. "Go and get Harrison."

~~~~

(Three hours earlier)

You laughed at your friend who decided to visit you at the bar you worked at.

"You actually made him cry?" You laughed.

Your friend nodded her head, "Yeah, it was so funny. Like why be in a debate class and not be able to carry your own argument. He got so frustated he literally stood there and started crying."

"I'm impressed Liza-" You noticed someone sitting down at the bar. "I'll be right back." You said nodding towards the man's direction. She nodded back taking a sip of her drink.

You approached the man nonchantly. "Anything I can get for you?"

The man seemed a little strange, and it was hard to see his face since it was covered by his hood. He lifted his head glancing at your nametag. "Nothing right now, (Y/N)." He said as an unsettling grin formed on his lips.

"Um, alright. Just call if you want something." You hurried away. You felt your heart beat quicken. 

You weren't stupid, you had met plenty of terrifying men while you were with Tom. The only question was if this man was part of a mob or just some creep. 

"You okay?" Your friend asked as you approached her. "You look pale."

"I'm- I'm fine. Uh, so what were you saying before?"

~~

The rest of the night seemed to go by smoothly enough, about an hour after you spoke to the unsetting man he had left, making you feel much better. 

It had gotten pretty late and unfortunately you were the one that was left to close that night. You finished wiping down the bar and all of the tables.

"So, Tom Holland, huh?"

You snapped your head towards the bar, your eyebrows furrowing. It was the same man from before. "How-?"

"That lock." He nodded towards the door. "Child's play. Now, I'm very interested in you (Y/N). Would never peg a girl like you to go around fucking men in the mafia. I see why he would fuck you, though." He said raking his eyes up and down your body.

You scoffed, and crossed your arms. "It was one man. And we're not together anymore so I can't help you with whatever it is you want."

"Oh, but sweetheart. I think you can." He said standing up. 

A flash caught your eye and you found a gun hanging loosley from his hand. Of course there was a gun. There was always a gun. 

He came closer and slowly began circling around you. You stood completely still. "You two were supposed to get married weren't you?" You nodded. "And it turns out Tommyboy is still in love with you."

You felt your heart jump. Of course you were terrified for your life, but Tom still had this power over your heart.

"Oh what's this? You're blushing. Do you still love him too?"

You swallowed nervously. "No, I hate him."

"Hm, I don't believe you-."

"What do you want? You're not really here to talk about my love life, so what do you want?"

"Ooh, okay, I think I'm starting to understand why Holland likes you so much. You're firey. But you're right, what I'm actually here is for leverage."

"Wha-?" But before you could finish, you felt the butt of the gun slam into your head and you were out.

~~

"She's pretty isn't she?"

"Keep it in your pants, that's not what she's here for."

"Yeah but still. Do y'think the boss will let us have a little fun with her before we have to kill her."

"Shut the fuck up and do your job, alright."

"Well he isn't wrong." A third voice interjected. "Holland was a lucky bastard."

You slightly groaned, as you blinked your eyes open, your head pounding. You lifted your head finding the three men that had been speaking, circling around you.

"Good morning, princess. How's your head?" You recognized this voice from the first man that had spoken. He was tall with black hair.

"Don't call me princess."

The two other men laughed. "I'm gonna get the boss. James come with me." The more serious one said before leaving the room with James leaving you alone with the black haired man.

"So you were really gonna marry Holland?" He asked, but you looked away from him and ignored what he said. "Tell me why a girl who seems so obviously innocent would go for a freak like Holland. Hm? Is it cause you like it rough, cause sweetheart if you like it rough, I can have you cumming in seconds."

"You're disgusting. I'd never let you touch me." You spat.

The man slowly started to approach you. Once he reached you, he gripped your chin pulled your face close to his. "Such a filthy mouth." He grinned in amusement. "Did Holland let you speak to him like that or do you like to be put in your place." He leaned in closer so his lips were by your ear. "I bet you're a dirty little slut betwee-"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you." An all too familiar voice said. 

Both your head and the man's snapped towards the door seeing Tom and Harrison standing there covered in blood with raised guns pointed at the man.

The man stood up, "Holl-" but before he could finish both Tom and Harrison shot him dead.

"T-Tom?" You choked out.

"Shh, darling, I've got you." He said, walking over and untying you from the chair you were in. Once the tape was off, you pulled Tom into you, and hugged him tightly, despite the blood that was on him.

You hated him so much but you also loved him and seeing him after being kidnapped all logic left you. You cried into him as he held you tightly to him. You hated to admit how much you really missed him.

"Let's get you out of here, darling."

~~

You sat across from Tom in the back of his car. Harrison was driving.

Neither of you said a word, as you gazed out the window and as Tom took glances at you.

"...Thanks for saving me." You mumbled.

"Of course, da-"

"But just so you know. I still really fucking hate you."

Tom sighed. "I figured as much."

"How did you know where I was?"

"I...I've had some of my men watch you since you left."

You snapped your head towards him. "You what?" 

"I had to keep tabs on you. I'm still in love with you y'know. And my business is messy, I wanted to make sure you were safe." You stayed silent understanding his reasoning. "...Just so you know, I really miss you princess. If it means anything, I haven't had sex with another woman since you've left."

You scoffed. "Nice to know you only have sex with other women when you're with me."

He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. "Come on darling, please. ​​​​​​I need you so much, please just come back."

"...You really fucked up Tom."

"I know, but it'll never happen again, it should've never happened in the first place. I was a fucking idiot. I love you so much, I don't know how to function without you and you're all I think about and it kills me that I don't get to see your beautiful face anymore. Please, give me one more chance."

You gave Tom a pained look. You were so confused. You sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking.

"Fine, this is how it's going to go." Tom perked up. "Basically, you destroyed the last five years we've been together. So if you want to get back together we're starting on square one again. Which means I'm not moving back in, we're not going to have sex for a long time, and we're obviously not going to get married anymore, until you can build my trust back."

Tom nodded, "Yes, please, I'll do anything you want."

"And Tom, I swear if you do anything to break my heart like that again, you will never see me again."

"I will never break your heart again. I can't live without you."

"Then... I guess we're back together."

He smiled widely. "I guess we are."

_____

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[nylaaaaa]

Little Secret

Chapter 1. Your Secret Is Safe With Me

Name and Surname: Natalie Fleur Estelle

Sex: Female

Date of Birth: 19th August 1692

Place ( Registration 

of      < District                     Cynthell

Birth  ( Sub-District

_________________________________________

"Here's the birth certificate. It has nothing about her parents on it as you suggested." I gave the man standing beside me, who had grown to be a brother to me, a quick, but satisfied, grunt of approval. 

"Thank you. Keep this between us and I'll keep up my end of the deal." Quintin gave me a questioning side glance. I knew he didn't appreciate me bringing up the past but I needed him to keep this between us.

"I don't see why you won't be honest to her. For all we know she might be like you..." I knew what he was suggesting, but I refused to listen. She won't be like me. She can't be like me. I waved him away, annoyance clear as day across my face. He will be annoyed too. We both have secrets. I just don't know whose is worth more.

_________________________________________

Today....

Today is possibly the worst day I'll have in my life. I'm honestly not sure. 

Today I officially turn 18 which, unluckily for me, means I have to add another thing to my job description.

Isaieth adopted me when I was born because my father died and it caused my mum to become a drunk. I don't exactly blame her for leaving and forgetting her troubles with a drink. But I also can't say I'm fond of it. I love Isaieth with all my heart, he feels like an actual father to me. But I sometimes wish I had an actual mother to help me grow as well.

When I was born my father died. No one told me how, I just know it was traumatic enough to make my mother a drunk. Isaieth adopted me when I was 2 after he had an accident that caused him to be deaf and partially blind. He wasn't fit for work anymore so the second I turned an age where I can go to the toilet by myself he taught me how to tend his farm. He makes a business by selling wheat that he grows and whatever we can get from the few animals we own. When I was 16 I found an abandoned lamb who we later discovered was a merino sheep. Merino sheep are, in my opinion, the best sheep you can get. Their carcasses are smaller than the average sheep so they aren't used for meat but rather for the wool that they grow. The average amount of wool the sheep grows is 11kg which is enough for about 11 sweaters. Aswell as the sheep we have 2 chickens, both of which are female. They were actually, in some ways, a gift from the king. The king and Isaieth are best friends almost from birth. They both grew up in royalty but only the king kept it that way. Isaieth was the son of a knight, and so in turn, Isaieth was also a knight. The king was born a prince and then was assigned a knight who happened to be Isaieth. One of the times when Isaieth was protecting the king he ended up getting seriously injured and the king fired him for his own safety. The king doesn't exactly care for the knight's wellbeing but because they were friends he decided a knight was too dangerous for Isaieth. After the event the king offered him a plot of land on the outskirts of the city that was run down and abandoned but had potential for a farm. Isaieth's dream as a boy was to grow old and have his own farm, so like any friend the king got him his own farm. Because of the friendship and countless times Isaieth saved his life our rent was greatly reduced and we were offered a permanent job to make sure we always had the money to pay rent. The job included selling off our produce from the animals. The eggs given to Isaieth was originally just starter food but Isaieth decided to keep them and let them hatch instead. When they grew to be quite old he kept a few of the last eggs they would hatch and did the same thing. The hens we have now are 1 years old, or will be in a few days. We don't get much from our farm but because of the discount on rent sometimes we have enough money to spare to get nice things. The average price of rent can go up to 100 gold.

(100 gold is like 1k, the money in this story is, bronze= pence or cents or whatever is the lowest in your country, silver= pounds or dollars etc and gold= the hundreds +. In simpler terms, but in GBP ((Great British Pounds)) terms, 1 bronze= 1 pence, 1 silver= 1 pound and 1 gold= 100 pound.)

Ours however got put down to 45 gold. It's still a lot that we just about make each month but we're still thankful that he even gave us this place to begin with. He didn't actually have to.

It's also lucky that our farm works well with rent times. Each month you have to go to the castle and pay your rent. If you dont have enough or you skip it they go to your house and either take a child, that becomes their servent who has to work for the money you didn't pay, or they take some belongings that you don't get back unless you pay extra. Luckily we've never seen it first hand but one of my childhood friends ended up becoming a servent from it. I haven't seen her since. Our wheat takes a month to grow so we've always got that to keep our money up. Unfortunately wheat sells cheap, one wheat grain sells for 30 bronze. Every month we grow, on average, 700 wheat grains but have to keep back 350 to replant so we can get 350 the next month too. So on average every month with wheat alone we make 10 gold and 5 silver. Which by itself is almost a quarter of our rent. Replanting and harvesting wheat is one of the most tedious jobs of farming, but maintaining is by far the easiest. You only have to water the plant at most once in summer but otherwise never. All you really have to do is make sure the plant isn't dying and be on your way. The worst job I have is turning the sheeps pelt into wool. She doesn't like to be milked so doing that is an annoyance but I dread making wool the most out of all the farm jobs I have. Next to maintaining the crop the hens are the easiest too. They lay at least one egg everyday, the only thing I have to do is collect the eggs without breaking them and make sure the hens are well fed and have fresh air. With making wool you have to flatten the pelt completely and then tie the strands together to make a really long piece of wool that I have to cut and ball up. It's the worst job on the entire farm but I can't say I hate doing it. My favourite thing is balling it all up after dying it. I'm just thankful all these things take a month to do or we'd be screwed on rent every month.

(Realistically these don't actually take a month, I researched so much to make the story as legit as possible but for story sake I tweaked the timing. Hens do lay one egg a day at least, if properly cared for and also depending on breed. But wheat takes a LOT longer to grow and you can only shave a sheep once a year. I changed the timing of it all tho or I'd have to be even more creative with money and stuff and tbh I'd rather not. Coming up with these ideas for the farm was hard enough.)

On average you get 2 balls of yarn out of 1kg of wool. Luckily for us our merino sheep produces 11kg of wool giving us 22 balls of yarn. 1 ball of yarn sells for 1 gold, so for 22 balls of yarn we make 22 gold. Personally I think it's extremely expensive but it does make sense considering there aren't many sheep around, which also means clothes, blankets and shoes are harder to get. On average with the hens we get 2 eggs a day. 1 egg sells for 25 silver, meaning the 2 we make in a day gives us 50 silver. There's 28 days in a month meaning with eggs alone we make 14 gold. Altogether in one month we usually make roughly 46 gold. As good of an amount as that is, 45 of it has to go to the king, leaving us with roughly 1 gold left. Because we're human and need to eat, bathe and clothe ourselves just like everyone else, whatever's left gets spent on stuff like that. On average every month we spend about 50 silver on food. I have my own plant pots in my room that we use for our own food. There's only 2 of them but in one plant pot I grow strawberries and in the other I grow raspberries. Truth be told if I sold the strawberries and raspberries we'd probably be richer but honestly, we're both kinda used to this life and although we don't have everything we want, we have everything we need. Besides the fruits take 2 months to grow and because of my reputation people would refuse to buy them for their actual price. They just about accept the other things, if fruits were in the mix I'd probably get death glares and 1 bronze for a batch. It doesn't bother me too much though because with whatever odd bit of wheat we had spare from the 700 odd we plant and sell we use that to make bread or pastry, so every 2 months we make the fruits into a jam or crush them and make a pie. My all time favourite activity is making them into pies or bread and jam with Isaieth. It's the only thing we can properly do together. He helps me replant and harvest the wheat sometimes because there's so much of it but usually he just watches from afar. His eye sight is getting worse the older he gets so he helps less and less. It saddens me because I know he doesn't want to go fully blind, we wouldn't be able to communicate at all and what kind of life are you living if you can't see or hear anything. You might as well be dead at that point or you'd be so throughly confused. 

Getting back on track. Today is a bad day because it's the first day where I have to pay for the rent. I've been a few times with Isaieth as a child but I've never gone alone. It's an adults job and should only be done by an adult. But today, aswell as being my birthday, it's also rent day. Isaieth didn't actually want me to do it but I insisted knowing that he would have severe trouble doing it himself. And what's more is that I have to go alone to sell our produce now aswell. I don't put any blame on him and I especially will never complain. But in my head I can feel bitter about the situation. 

I look forward to the day.....

...

No I don't.