#week 3: ‘man i’m starving. i hate this job man. just bring me a bowl of ramen or something and i’ll let you pass. idc man.’

[goldensunset]

forgot one of my favorite things about twewy: how the reapers start out as seemingly such an intimidating and menacing force of evil (i mean, with a name like that? ooooh scary), but over the course of the three weeks, they just gradually start getting weirder and more pathetic until you realize the bulk of them are literally just exhausted minimum wage employees with their own lives who are slacking off at their jobs as much as possible

[justanotherblonde23]

You Can’t Please Everyone - A Marcus Moreno Story

Author’s Note: Welcome to Part 3 of my Marcus Moreno and Doctor Iris Moreno one shot series! This wasn’t originally the one I planned on releasing today, but I was going through it last night and @autumnleaves1991-blog​ suggested that I write my feelings out and let it all pour into my writing. She was right, I felt so much better afterwards. Still no descriptions for what Dr. Moreno looks like, I want you to feel like you can see yourself as her <3 Thank you all for your love and encouragement, I really appreciate it. 

Warnings: angst, crying, parental problems, hurt/comfort, pregnancy mentions, language

Let me know what you think, what you’d like me to write next, want to be on a tag list for this series, etc. I want to interact with you all! 

Iris opened the front door, trying her best to be quiet; she didn’t want to wake the kids. If Marcus got the timing right, their girls should have just finished their bedtime routine and have settled in for the night. She took her jacket off, hanging it up in the coat closet. All she wanted was to grab a glass of wine and curl up and have a good cry. Unfortunately, being pregnant meant no alcohol, so she would soldier through with a good cry in the shower, maybe. 

Her heels clacked on the stairs. She went slowly, her heart and mind weary. Both girls had their doors open a crack, the universal sign that they wanted kisses and to be tucked in by momma, too, even if she came home a bit late. The drowsy kisses and ‘I love yous’ filled her with joy, covering the ache just a little. She knew that no matter what went wrong throughout the day, she would always be coming home to two precious little girls that loved her dearly. At this point, she couldn’t even imagine life without them. 

Marcus was right where she expected him to be, in bed curled up with a good book. It still blew her away every time she stopped and realized that he was hers, and she was his. Being his wife, it was bliss in every sense of the word. She hadn’t expected him to propose; how could she when his last marriage ended the way it did? Iris would have been happy to be with him forever in any way that he’d have her, but she had to admit that she had wanted to be his wife. She had changed her name as fast as humanly possible, for the thought of being Dr. Moreno filled her with pride. He had suggested keeping her last name or maybe hyphenating it after he proposed. He knew how hard she had worked to make that name worth something, and he didn’t want to take that away from her. She had appreciated the gesture, but she insisted that her work was her own, no matter her last name. She wanted to share everything with Marcus Moreno, including his last name. 

The man in question looked up, giving her one of his earth-shattering smiles, the one that made her feel as if she was the center of his universe. How could she not melt when his soft brown eyes held her gaze, baring his soul to her? She loved this beautiful man with every breath she took. 

He frowned when he noticed her eyes had welled with tears, leaving black mascara tracks down her cheeks. Silently, he stood up, gently unzipping her dress for her and helping her into a shirt of his that she loved to wear to bed. He knew that she would talk to him when she was ready. He would wait her out; it was better not to press her. Marcus led her into the bathroom, sitting her up on the counter while he cleaned her face with a warm washcloth and makeup remover. With each tender swipe of the washcloth, more tears fell. He could feel her shaking underneath him, the silent sobs giving way to heaving gasps.

Once he finished washing her face, he cradled her in his arms, carrying her back to their bed. He settled her on his lap, her legs straddling his hips, arms wound around his neck, face tucked in next to his own. The closer he could get to her, the better he knew she’d be able to feel. His hand snaked under the shirt, rubbing soothing circles on her back, fingers pressing patterns into her spine. He whispered words of comfort in his wife’s ear, willing her to hear what he was saying. Darling, I love you. I’m here for you; you’re not alone. Let it all out, baby. It’s okay to cry. Don’t keep it all stuffed inside; just cry it out. Missy loves you, Jules loves you, I love you. He went on and on, pouring his love and adoration into her. Eventually, her tears subsided, and she was ready to talk. She pulled back a bit so that she could look into those kind eyes of his that never judged her or made her feel less than. 

“Dinner with my dad was a disaster, Marcus, it was horrible. I should’ve known it would be bad, but I was hoping that this time might be different.” 

He nodded sympathetically; her relationship with her father was complicated. That man was manipulative, two-faced, selfish, and frankly a terrible parent. He had never approved of their relationship, blatantly refusing to even come to their wedding, insisting that they’d be getting a divorce at some point anyway. No matter how happy they were together, that man was always finding something to nitpick. If it wasn’t the age gap, it was the fact that Iris had stepped up and filled the spot of mother that the girls had so desperately needed. He hated their jobs, their house, the fact that they were individuals with enhanced abilities. Marcus couldn’t think of a situation where he had ever said anything positive about, well, anything. 

Despite all of this, he knew that Iris still loved him, still cared about him, and desperately wanted some type of relationship with him. She was the kindest person that Marcus had ever met. Her passion for people, her ability to truly empathize with others and try to help them heal was inspiring. He had never seen anything like it. He had seen it firsthand with his girls. She poured every ounce of love and devotion into them, treating them as if she had given birth to them herself. She said time and again that there was no difference to her. They were her girls just as much as they were his, and she loved them as such. That love and care extended to her father, too, no matter how many times he hurt her. 

“What did he do, honey?” he was hesitant to ask. Marcus knew that he would get mad at her father and have to rein himself in. He hated to see his wife hurting like this, and it made his blood boil. No one should cause her this much turmoil, especially someone that was her parent. 

“The whole thing was just a mess from the start. Dad was giving the poor waitress a hard time the second she came to the table. You know when he acts like he’s funny, but actually, he’s just rude? He was playing that game. I tried to talk him off the ledge and get him to bring it back in a bit. You should’ve seen her face, Marcus. She was petrified. Every time she came to the table, I could see the apprehension in her eyes. I tried to make sure that I was as nice to her as humanly possible to make up for him. Jesus Marcus, he should know better. I bartended to help mom with money when she was sick, for goodness sake. I was just like that poor girl all through med school and up until I got hired at Heroics HQ. You’d think he’d be willing to consider that.” 

He shook his head, placing a kiss on her forehead, not interrupting her as she spoke. He knew that Iris needed to get it all out before he chimed in. 

“Then he realized that I didn’t order any wine and commented on that, and oh fuck Marcus; it just came out. I just blurted out that I wasn’t drinking because we’re having a baby. He fucking laughed at me, told me not to joke about shit like that. When he figured out that I was serious, he was furious. He told me that I made a mistake, that this baby would just tie me down. He told me that this was a sign that it was time to give up my career and commit to being a mother. I just- I can’t believe everything he said. He went on and on about how I was finally having a real kid of my own as if Missy and Jules aren’t mine, and how it was unfortunate that this baby was yours. I thought that maybe he’d be happy that he’d be excited, but it was a shit show. He didn’t ask how far along I was or anything. I don’t know why I even do this anymore, why I even hope for his approval. It’s a battle I’m never going to win, so why even try? And fuck, these pregnancy hormones are making me so goddamn emotional. I couldn’t even make it through the main course. I made up a work emergency and left. I’m hurting, I’m fucking starving, and I just want to curl up and call it a night.” 

There was silence for a few moments, Iris once again hiding her face in the crook of Marcus’ shoulder. He wished he could physically take the pain away, that he could take her heart in his hands and cradle it to his chest, protecting it from everything that threatened to break it. It killed him to see her like this, and it wasn’t fair; she didn’t deserve this. It didn’t help that at 12 weeks, her pregnancy was beginning to take a toll on her. It was always tricky for enhanced individuals to carry a child, even more so when the child was also enhanced. It just made everything a bit more complicated. He hadn’t seen it up close himself before. His ex hadn’t had powers. To see Iris suffering and struggling with harsher than average symptoms tore at his heartstrings. They were both so excited to have this little one; it would just be a bit more challenging.  

“Baby, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna grab a few things, get comfy okay?” 

Marcus hated untangling himself from her, but he knew what might make her feel a bit better. She let out a noncommittal grunt, letting him know that she heard him. He quickly went down to the kitchen, grabbing supplies. He put everything on a tray, double-checking that he had what he needed before going back up to the bedroom. He set the tray on the bed, earning a grin from his darling wife. 

“Okay, so you said you were hungry; I thought I’d grab the things you’ve been craving recently. I’ve got a bowl of butter pecan ice cream with strawberry sauce, the whipped cream from a can, and crumbled up potato chips with a side of frozen Reese’s peanut butter cups and that guava juice you started liking last week. Oh, and a grilled cheese that I made earlier and put in the fridge. I know you like them cold right now. I’m not gonna question it. I’m sorry you didn’t even get to eat anything when you went for dinner, but this might be even better.” 

He settled into bed next to Iris, putting the tray on her lap. The giggle of delight that left her mouth made him feel warm inside. He watched her dig into the ice cream, telling him about the new developments that she was working on for his katanas, how she wanted to adjust the grips a certain way, and asking for his input. There she was, his wife was crawling back out of the pain and the hurt. He adored her enthusiasm for science and invention. She always had some idea or other to improve his weaponry and armor. He could listen to her passionately explaining her thoughts and ideas for the rest of his life, and he’d never get bored. 

By the time she finished, the disaster of a dinner had been wholly forgotten. Marcus got up, placing the tray on the dresser. He’d deal with it in the morning. They spent another hour talking, cuddling, and holding each other tightly. After a while, he noticed that Iris began to nod off, her eyelids struggling to stay open. He adjusted their position so that they were lying down, and his love was wrapped securely in his arms. She fell into sweet slumber to the sound of Marcus murmuring sweet nothings in her ear and his hand rubbing her tummy, holding her and their baby close. She may not be able to please everyone, but she had Marcus, their two girls, and this baby. In the end, that was everything. It was all she needed.  

Tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog​ @madness-roses​ @bisexual-space-slut​ @dindjarindiaries​ @frannyzooey​ @cinewhore​ @revolution-starter​ @mrschiltoncat​ @softpedropascal​ @paniclana​ @jollyrancher87​ @hdlynnslibrary​ @maybege​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @cyaredindjarin​ @magicsuperheroes​ @flightlessangelwings​ @itspdameronthings @fallingoutofthe1975​ @thestreamergirl​

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Don’t Breathe | 3.5

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DON’T love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt.4.0 - pt.4.5

A/n: enjoy 💜

⇢ 6 years ago ⇠

“Don’t forget us when you’re a famous writer,” 

Your mom brings in the third meal she packed for you, she insisted on making you a week worth's of your favorite meals. She said you were gonna miss home and her cooking would cure that longing in a heartbeat. 

“Mom stop it,” You smile, unwrapping the electric kettle they bought you after graduation, “you two are everything to me, I’d never forget you guys,”

She packs the fridge, making sure you don’t starve due to your inability to look away from your computer when you’re writing. After graduating with a bachelor's in communications, you were able to get a position as a writer after interning at The Auburn Times. Your dreams were finally becoming a reality. You have a high-paying job that you love, a nice apartment, a boyfriend—life is perfect.

“We love you, Y/n,” Both your parents walk over to you and give you a big hug, this is it, “you’re gonna do great.” 

Their embrace feels like love and reassurance, you’re so grateful for everything they’ve done to get you here. With a few more goodbyes, you walk them out as they drive away to get home, hours away from where you are now. 

Your apartment is perfect, your kitchen is perfect, everything is just as you imagined. After a few hours of tucking in your bedsheets and setting up your bathroom, you order a large pizza and rightful gorge yourself to a messy reality TV show on your new couch.

On the other side of the city, he waits patiently, the large and lavish office. The chair is stiff under him, but he’s calm, composed.

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” The man with dark brown enters the room finally, a beige folder in his hand as he takes a seat in the chair across from him, “sorry for the wait.”

Taehyung tilts his head a bit, not upset or impatient by any means, “You’re fine,”

“So, you have an interesting profile,” Minho sits back, the folder sitting on the desk between them, “not a lot of kills under your belt but the jobs you have done, not one slip up. But tell me a little bit about your personal life, your background.”

Taehyung’s eyes drift from the desk to the man in front of him, “I moved here when I was eighteen, joined an organization but I just quit recently. I was born in the countryside, lived in a foster home for most of my childhood. My birth mom was strung out on drugs and my dad, don’t know a thing about him. That’s about it.”

“Any close friends? Do you live alone?”

“I have a friend, but other than him, I don’t know anyone here. And yes, I live alone.”

“Good, you’re perfect for off the grid jobs,” Minho takes out a pen and pad to write down a few things, “okay, you’ve got the job.” He takes out the contract and hands Taehyung a pen.

He reads over the official paper, finding the X where he’s supposed to sign at the end of the paragraph of terms and agreements, “When do I get my first assignment?”

“I’ll have one to you by the end of the week. But let’s go over the rules: first, don’t come in contact with the target. That’s guaranteed screw up. Secondly, keep your observation time at a minimum, if not, you’re at risk for developing an obsession with the target, that’s never good. And lastly, one of the most important rules of all; under no circumstances should you form a bond of any kind with the target. The contract you’ll sign to secure this job states just that, a target is a target. If you accept, you get the job done, no exceptions. Got it?”

“Not a problem,” He signs his signature, swearing his life to this organization for a full 7 years. 

“Good,” He takes the pin and tucks the contract back into the folder, “Welcome to the guild.”

It’s noisy.

You’ve been awake for a few minutes, but you’ve heard little movement upstairs—he must be getting ready to go out. Staring up at the ceiling, you keep thinking of that night. How he looked when you hit him, his face flushed, and his eyes tender, he wasn’t angry.

The urge to scratch him when he’s near has lessened, you scold yourself for that. There should be no reason for you to feel anything more than hate for him, so any positive feelings you might have, you have to push down. He kidnapped you, you hate him—you need to hate him.

The door opens and you shyly sit up and gaze at him, he’s dressed nicely in a beige knit sweater and his hair looks freshly washed. He slips the key out of his pocket, “I’m going out today,” Taking your wrist into his hand, he sticks it in the lock and the cuff falls off, “I want you to shower and eat something before I go.”

You can feel him looking at you, waiting for your compliance. But you refuse to move or even look him in the eyes, your attitude will be your downfall one day.

“Hey,” He grabs your arm a little tighter than usual, making you frown, “get up,”

You spare him a halfhearted glance before standing up and walking past him, eager to get to the shower and away from his overbearing presence. 

Surprisingly, he lets you walk upstairs and he follows you to the guest bathroom where you’ve been showering since you’ve been here. He shuffles you into the bathroom as if to tell you you’re walking too slow. You stumble a little, why is he handling you like this?

“Um,” You bite your bottom lip when you only see a towel and washcloth on the counter, “do you have any clothes for me?”

“Just take a shower, I’ll be right back,” He answers flatly, closing the door in your face. He’s so moody right now, you know you can be pretty cold to him, but he didn’t have to slam the door. That won’t keep you from indulging in a nice shower though. You’re grateful that he at least gives you this luxury twice a day. Taking off your clothes, you sit them on the counter and hop in the shower. A few minutes go by and your stomach twists when you hear the bathroom door creak open.

“I need you to hurry up,” He glances at the curtain, trying not to think of you being completely bare behind it, “I have to be somewhere in an hour,” 

“I’m going as fast as I can,” You mumble. When you hear the door close, you get out and quickly dry off so you can get dressed. You notice that nothing he brought you to wear is yours, aside from your underwear and socks, which you choose to not to think of how he picked them from your drawers. There’s a baby-blue hoodie with gray sweat pants, these are definitely not yours, are they his? You cringe, but slip them on anyway. Ugh, you chastise for liking how the clothes fit, it reminds you of how Jin’s clothes used to hang on you. 

It’s comforting to think of him, you haven’t thought of him in a while. He used to be your everything, you two were partners in crime for a majority of your life in the city. But things didn’t work out and you have no negative feelings about it. If anything, you’re grateful to have had the time you had to figure out what you really wanted. Now, look at you, your free lifestyle just a distant memory. 

When he hears your light footsteps he looks at the end of the stairway to see you, his mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out. Damn it, why do you have to look like that? He forgot to do your laundry last night, now he has to live with the image of you like this for the rest of his life. Not paying any mind to his gawking, you glance at the delicious-looking plate and try not to look too excited from it. The sandwich and chips with a large bowl of fruit have become normality, knowing he’d have it prepared every day was one of your only joys.

“I didn’t get the chance to wash your clothes last night, so I had to give you something of mine,” He breaks the silence with a firm voice. He walks up to you and holds the plate in front of you, gesturing for you to exchange it for your dirty clothes. “you can take that downstairs,” He vanishes into the laundry room. 

No need to tell you twice. You hold the plate gladly and head back to the basement or what you mentally refer to as a cave. It doesn’t take long before you’re perched on the cushion and picking at the bowl of fruit.

He makes an appearance once again, this time he stands at the stairs, not fully entering the space. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” With that, he locks the several locks on the door and seals you into your dungeon for however long he pleases.

Music, you hear music. You assume it’s from his speaker, but you’re just not sure from where. You listen and you can hear the song clearly, Fly Me to The Moon to be precise. A tune you often hum mindlessly at home. You think, he had probably heard you humming it several times. There’s no telling how many nights he watched you prance around your home as if no one were watching. Unbeknownst of his presence, oblivious of your nearing future. The thought alone makes you sick to your stomach. You push the plate to the end of the cushion and lay down, dying to return to the peaceful realm of sleep.

The brunch spot isn’t as packed as he thought it’d be. He sits at the table, drinking his second cup of water as he glances at his watch, Yeosang should be arriving soon. Yeosang was the only friend he had in this city when he first moved here, they go way back. About a year ago, he got a job offer abroad and he hasn’t seen him in person since. Today he’s back to visit family and he made sure to schedule a time for one of his best friends.

“Taehyung!” A cheerful voice calls his name, “Long time no see,”

Taehyung greets his blond-haired friend with a and he insists that he takes a seat. “Man, how long has it been?” 

“Too long,” When the two finally sit down, the waitress brings Yeosang a menu and says she’ll be back to see if they’re ready to order, “Berlin is nice, but my social is suffering, I work too damn much,”

“Tell me about it,” Taehyung stares at the menu, debating over the green tea latte or an americano, “it hasn’t been the same since you left.”

“Yeah?”

Yeosang has always been the one person in the guild that he fully trusts, something about him that 

“Yeah, I went on a job with Park Jimin, can you believe I actually agreed? if you were here you probably could’ve talked me out of it,” He sighs, finally deciding that the green tea latte is the best option. When the waitress walks by, he waves her over gives her his order. Yeosang puts his orders in as well and the two go back to their conversation, “the payout was too good to pass up,”

It’s not long before their food is on the table and they’re reminiscing on the good times they used to have. Taehyung was great support for Yeosang and vice versa. They used to get jobs and split a hefty payout for their services as a team, it was nice to work with someone he trusted. But even working alone had its perks, larger pay, less loose strings, no one to debate with. 

“So,” Yeosang peeks at him, noticing how his hair is threatening to grow past his eyes completely, “have you found anyone special? Or are you still living in that huge place of yours all alone,” 

Tugging his bottom lip into his mouth, his feline eyes drift to the window beside him, he has to answer this carefully or it’ll become obvious that he’s hesitating, “No, there’s no one,”

He pries, smirking because he just doesn’t fully believe that, “You should broaden your horizons, Kim. Go out, date, have a little fun,”

Tae sits his drink down and sighs, deciding not to entertain that, “Where are you staying?”

“A hotel, I won’t be spending too much time there though, I have a packed schedule,” HE tilts his head in thought, “maybe I can crash at your place this weekend?”

He smiles, “Sure,”

“Agh!” You slam your body against the door for the third time, but to no avail, it stays locked. If he’s nothing, he’s smart when it comes to keeping you from trying to escape. There are no windows down here and the door isn’t budging for anything. 

After your shoulder began to throb from the constant impact, you decide to give up and sit on the floor in front of the cushion. It’s been days since he’s let you out of here and you think he’s doing it on purpose. Aside from getting you up to bathe and eat, he hasn’t taken you to his room or come down to sit with you. It’s not something you want to miss, but he’s proving to be right about what he said when you were first brought here—you’re feeling isolated. He hasn’t threatened to starve you, he hasn’t made threats of any kind actually, it’s starting to seem like he’s trying to spite you? Whatever he’s trying to do, it’s creating a distance that’s starting to make you feel more uneasy.

Everything feels scary. Not him, but what he’s doing to you. You feel so alone, isolated. When human interaction becomes nonexistent. That’s what he once said but you ignored it at the time, brushing off as a threat to keep you afraid. But he was right, it’s starting to get to you, these four walls. You’re beginning to have a hard time telling what time it is, it’s messing with your senses. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen another human being beside him. He hasn’t given you crossword puzzles, a notebook to draw in, he doesn’t even let you watch TV. You do nothing, every day you just do absolutely nothing. 

And at night, you’ve developed a bit of insomnia. You stare into the corners of the dark space, telling yourself that there aren’t dark figures staring back at you.

Sometimes, you find yourself thinking of him in the dead of night—his face, his voice, the way his hands feel. Knowing he’s probably the only person you’ll have for a while. There’s something so warm about him, the way he looks at you, those eyes... That’s what gets you the most, those deep brown eyes that you can’t look straight into without your mind wandering. It doesn’t even occur to until now that you don’t know his name, you don’t know anything about him. 

Maybe you could learn, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get to know him. You’re conflicted about it, but what choice do you have? The only other option is to sit down here and go crazy. He’s proven to have a mild obsession with you, why not use that? It’s not so shameful to switch it up and make him think you’ve changed—anything to get you out of this hellhole. 

That’s your decision, seduce him. Get close, if you can get him to trust you, even just a little bit, that’s one step closer to getting out of here.

In your hours of isolation during the day, he’d wait to the late hours of the night and peek down into the basement, seeing that you were asleep. He’d creep down there and sit next to your cushion, eyes trained on you when you’d toss and turn. Sometimes you’d pull on the cuff on your wrist, and he’d get the urge to take it off, but that thought wouldn’t last long. When he’s not working, he’d dedicate himself to learning about you from a distance. Lately, he's dedicated some of his time to painting when the need to see you becomes unbearable. It’s a good distraction. Right next to his room, he goes into his little art studio. He hasn’t been in there as often because he’s been so busy, but he’s thought about letting you occupy yourself in there. Being able to express yourself creatively might put you in a better head-space.

“Are you sure he’s legit, Jungkook?” 

Jin looks over the card, still not too sure about all of this.

“Of course, he’s ex-FBI, very legit, best PI I know,” Jungkook speaks muffled over the phone, “man, he’s a genius when it comes to stuff like this, he finds wat the cops miss.”

Jin sighs, “I hope so. I never liked her living alone, and this was why, just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach,” The silence piques concern in his friend, knowing he’s hurting, “I know we’re not together anymore, but I care about her, I’ll always have love for her, we’re like family,”

“I hear you, just take it one step at a time, she’s a strong girl, always has been” Jungkook tries to comfort him, but he can’t blame Jin’s concern. He’s a lawyer. There are so many cases that he’s come across with missing victims who haven’t come out alive. He only hopes that he’ll never see a case file with your name in it.

Jin looks up when he hears a knock on the door.

“I’ll talk to you later, he’s here,” He hangs up, straightening up his dress shirt before opening up the front door.

“Kim Seokjin? I’m Min Yoongi, Jungkook connected us,” The man stands relaxed, dirty blond hair and a pair of soft eyes, surprising for a man of his reputation.

“Yes, please come in,” He gestures him inside and Yoongi obliges, eyes discreetly checking the place out, “I prepared the folder last night, was there anything else you needed?” Jin closes the front door and grabs to the beige folder off of the kitchen bar.

“Let me see,” Yoongi extends his hand, taking the folder and opening it up. With narrowed brows, he reads over your address, social media, your workplace, little things like that, “this is good. What is your relationship with her again? Boyfriend or-”

“Ex-boyfriend, but we were on good terms, we’re friends. Her supervisor, Suzy, called me, she’s the one who found out she was missing. I was on her emergency contact list, she must’ve forgotten to update it when we broke,” He bites his cheek to stop himself from rambling, “anyway, she hasn’t answered any calls or texts,”

“It says here she’s a writer for The Autumn Times,” He nods to himself, “I think I’ve read a few of her articles. Do you think there would be anyone out there who would have any reason to abduct her? I heard there was a briefing that some of the attending reporters started vanishing from, is she connected to that in any way?”

“No, not at all,” Jin couldn’t anyone would ever target you, “well, now that I think of it, I wouldn’t know.”

“How about new friends, family, a new boyfriend, an old flame, anything like that?”

“No- Well, I wouldn’t know that either, we haven’t talked for a while, but I don’t think so. She’s very career-driven, after me there was no one else that I knew of, and she’s never had a huge social circle,” Jin furrows his brows, a bit taken aback by the thought you getting with someone else who would potentially put you in harm's way.

“Well, I never rule that out, so I’ll do a little digging to see if it’s possibly someone of that nature, but who knows, she could have run off on her own accord, could be a lot of different things,” He closes up the folder, “anything else I might want to know?”

“No, I think that’s everything, if there is anything Suzy finds out, I’ll contact you immediately.” 

“I appreciate it, it’s nice meeting you Mr. Kim,” He shakes his hand, “and I assure you, I’ll carry the burden of worrying about her, you just relax, okay? I know it’s easier said than done, but you’ve gotta stay calm somehow.”

“Thanks.”

With about as much information as Jin could possibly gather on you, he decides to go to your home first. Assuming it’s under police investigation, it might be blocked off, but he knows the department well, so getting in won’t be a problem.  One call and he’s given permission to investigate. It takes roughly an hour to get to your apartment, and sure enough, when he approaches the front door, it’s untouched. At least it appears that way. Taking the liberty to survey the home, he pops the lock and walks inside. 

You have a nice place and there’s no immediate sign of forced entry. If it was an abduction, there’s no sign of it being violent, maybe you were unconscious? The said necklace was no longer at the scene, so that was probably confiscated as evidence. With his blue rubber gloves, he starts to plunder through the house. First, he checks your bedroom. The first thing that catches his eye is the bed being made. In theory, if you were taken in the night, why would your bed be made? As he enters your room further, he opens a few of your drawers, nothing looks unusual so he closes them up.

“Hm,” He furrows his brows, if you were kidnapped then your abductor is good. The home looks virtually untouched. For a moment, he’s about to go to his car to grab his camera so he can take pictures of the place, but he hears a beep that comes from the window.

The open window.

Curious, he crouches in front of it and looks it over. There’s no way someone with enough skill to, in theory, make up the bed after taking you, leave fingerprints on the window, but that's not what he’s looking for.

Grazing the window pain, he looks for dirt, gravel, anything that could fall from the bottom of a shoe. Nothing. “Damn.” He sighs, opening the window further.

Just when he thought there would be nothing, he sees the alarm lock. It’s been tampered with. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick photo before writing this down on a notepad. “We’re getting somewhere,” He mumbles, pushing the window down. He’ll come back later for prints, now he has to make a few phone calls.

He’s at the grocery store and he tasked himself with purchasing personal items for you. Soap, razors, lotion, things of that nature. He avoided the impressed looks from women who probably assumed he was purchasing these things for a girlfriend. One particular woman was watching him, pitying his indecisiveness.  He was seriously having a hard time choosing a razor, he forgot what he saw you use at your house.

“Hi,” She smiled, moving into his line of vision, “this one of better for sensitive skin, it’s the one I use,” She points to the one that was fairly priced between the least and most expensive.

“Thanks,” He was relieved to finally just put one in the basket.

“No problem, I’ve been shopping for my boyfriend before, I know how it is,” She winked and went off into another aisle.

After running a few more errands, it was almost sunset and he decided to head home. Instead of checking on you like usual, he showers first. He’s been thinking about you, it’s been a while since you’ve gotten any real interaction. The only time you’ve been seeing him the last few days is to get food or use the restroom, the distance was necessary. He wasn’t kidding when he said you were tempting him, he needed to step back. When you were scared because of him and cried for a while, it was interesting to see that he frightened you that much. He’s got emotional control over you, that much is true. But he’s not sure he’s controlling the emotions that he wants to control. Coming out of his thoughts, he dries off and slips a shirt and sweats on. 

Meanwhile, you can hear his piddling upstairs and you start to lose confidence in your plan. If you could get him to a point where he trusts you enough, you would have a better chance of escape. It seems cruel to deceive him and wrong to want to get close to him just because you don’t want to live in a basement anymore. But if you stay down here any longer you’re going to lose your mind, it’s already happening.

The door suddenly opens and you sit up to see he’s dressed in a white tee and gray-sweats, his hair jet black and fluffy, his expression soft. 

“Come up so you can shower and eat,” The same line you’ve heard for the last few days. 

Testing your boundaries, you don’t move. You continue to sit curled up on the floor, knees pressed to your chest and head hung low. Without a word, he calmly walks down to you.

He crouches in front of you, “Why are you being difficult?”

“I’m just not hungry...” You lie.

“Yes, you are,” He sees right through you, “it’s been hours since I’ve been home.” He tilts his head. Insistent on going through with your experiment, you stay where you are. He scoffs, an amused grin on his face, “You want me to carry you?”

You look up at him, your confidence wavering. “No...”

“Then get up.” His tone isn’t soft like usual, he sounds impatient.

Reluctantly, you stand up, trying to push yourself to your feet. Hoping you can muster up the courage to go through with your plan, you shyly follow behind him.

It’s the same routine, he tells you to get in the shower (his shower this time) and disappears to get your clothes. This time is a bit different, in the shower you notice a few extra thins. A lilac-colored razor, floral smelling body wash that you’re so used to buying for yourself, he bought this stuff for you? Either way, you take the time to shave, there’s no telling when you’ll get the chance to do it again. 

When you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a towel, you see that he put some clothes and underwear out for you, as you expected. Again, his clothes but your underwear and socks. This time, he gave you a dark green shirt and sweats, similar to what he’s wearing now. 

He’s standing in the kitchen, making your plate and his. Dumplings, rice, and a few other sides, one of his favorite meals. When he hears the bathroom door open, he looks up at the banister to see you walking to the stairs with your clothes bunched in your hands. 

“Let me see,” Taking your clothes from you, he gestures to the table, “go sit down, I’ll get you something to drink after I put your laundry in the washer.”

You do as he says, and your stomach growls, debunking your lie from earlier. Taking a seat, you wait patiently until he emerges from the laundry room. 

When he comes to the table with two cups of tea, he glances at you, wondering why you haven’t eaten yet. “Go ahead and eat,” Casually, he picks up a dumpling and starts to eat, “it’s gonna get cold.”

Gazing down at your plate, you hesitantly pick up a dumpling at bite it—it’s actually really good. So, even though you were trying to seem uninterested, you end up eating a little over half of your plate. He grins when he sees your chewing the last dumpling on your plate, now he knows what food you can’t resist.

“Are you finished?” You nod. He takes your plates and takes his time putting the dirty plates in the dishwasher.

Oh god, this isn’t working. How are you supposed to get on his good side when you can barely function when he’s around? You can barely speak you’re so nervous.

“Let’s go, you’re going back to the basement.” 

No no no no, you can’t go back down there. Say something, do something. But nothing comes to your mind and you freeze. Before you know it, you’re walking back down to that dark abyss and you start to feel hazy.

“It’s gonna get a bit cold tonight,” He thinks aloud, “I’ll bring you an extra blanket,” 

You take a seat with a sigh, dejected and disappointed in yourself. This was supposed to be easy. But now that you’re back down in the basement, you’re starting to feel it again. The dread, the isolation that you know he’s trying to make you experience. It’s overwhelming. Why is he doing this? Maybe he’s upset about that night when you hit him, he may resent you for that. But how could he blame you? You’re the victim, you’re the one suffering, being treated like a prisoner, and then he tries to kiss you. Warm tears stream down your cheeks and you don’t try to hide it, there’s no point. Softly, you sob into your hands, you’re sure you look pitiful.

“Why are you crying?” His voice breaks you from your train of thought and you look up. He’s holding a blanket and standing in front of you, more so curious than concerned. Not expecting you to have broken so soon, he takes a seat beside you, eager to hear your reasoning. “What’s wrong?”

“I-” You sniffle, trying to get your words together, “I hate it down here, I see things at night, it’s so dark and- and I see things...”

“You’re just imagining things,” He reasons, not an ounce of sympathy in his words, “there’s nothing down here.“

“But it’s scary, it’s hard to sleep at night,” You wipe your tears, “I keep think you’re going to let me drown like last time, that’s what I keep thinking...” He finds your accusation interesting, given he told you he had that problem fixed.

“No, that’s not gonna happen again, I got that problem fixed,” He grabs the cuff from the wall and you keep a steady eye on his hands. “You’re sleeping down here, give me your hand-” 

“No,” You scoot away, holding your wrists behind yourself so he can’t grab them, “please, it hurts when I sleep...” 

“I really don’t care, you should be used to this by now,” He tries to grab your arms again but you pull away—you’re really testing your luck. “Stop it, I’m not in the mood. Give me your hand.” 

You bite your lip and your eyes glisten with fresh tears, you don’t budge. Being as skilled as he is, he grabs your arm anyway but he regrets it as soon as your deafening cries meet his ears.

“No! No,” Whining at the top of your lungs, you roll your body onto the floor, “p-please,” You sit back on your butt, heart beating out of your chest. You really weren’t planning to lash out like this—but you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re really pushing it,” He stands up, glaring down at you. “I swear to god I won’t say it again. Get up.”

When you look away, he takes that as your final answer, you just don’t want to listen.

“Fine,” He picks you up with a strength you didn’t realize he had and tosses you onto the cushion. He easily straddles your waste to pin you down and that’s when you really kick into fight or flight mode. You pull him back to the ground with you and you’re a mess of tangled limbs for a moment. You get the opportunity to crawl away, but he grabs your ankle and yanks you back, making you collapse onto your stomach, “Agh- L-let go,” 

“Stop acting like this isn’t what you asked for,” He pants, “I tried to be nice to you,” He’s trying to get you to stay still. Realizing your difference in size, he gets the idea to press himself against you, smothering you to the hard floor to get your arms without you sitting up, “didn’t you want to be down here? What happened to that? You don’t get to change your mind and do what you want,” He seethes, pressing the side of his face firmly into the crook of your neck while he busies himself with trying to get a hold of your erratic moving arms.

“Get off!” You cry out in a high-pitched squeal, kicking and squirming, trying to get him to give up.

“Stop moving,” He warns through gritted teeth, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” He sits up to look you in the eyes but that doesn’t last long. You violently kick your legs which causes him to lose his bearing, giving you the freedom to move your upper body now. You quickly turn onto your stomach and hold your hands to your chest, sobbing into the hard floor. It’s no use to keep going with you, you’re relentless.

“Okay, I get it, calm down,” He sits up a bit out of breath, now straddling your lower back. Your eyes squeeze shut when you feel his hands run down your sides, extremely slow. 

“There you go, just calm down,” He rubs your shoulders and drags his hands down your sides down to the dimples in your lower back, where he remains. He does this over and over, relishing in the way you seem to become pliant, less rigid. When you let out a small exhale he withdraws his hands and pushes his hair away from his face, “I get it now.” 

“What?...” You whisper.

With a deep sigh of relief, he lays down on your back in a bear hug. What is he doing? You whimper at the extra weight and heat but there’s nothing you can do to get away. He lays on top of you comfortably, not moving or saying anything, he just breathes in sync with you.

“I understand,” He groans against the shell of your ear, “you have to get this out of your system, I know you’ve got pent up frustration against me.” 

“I can’t stay down here, I can’t,” You bite your bottom lip, too confounded physically and emotionally to say anything more comprehensive, “I can’t...”

“Do you want to sleep upstairs?” He asks softly, lifting off of you so you can look back at him. When you nod, he gets up and pulls you to your feet. He can’t help but coo at your flushed face from all that crying, he brushes your cheek with his index finger.

“Come on, take my hand,” He looks at you with earnest eyes, urging you to take his extended hand, “it’s okay.” Carefully, you take his hand and you let him walk you upstairs, freeing you from that dark and lonely place. 

Thinking he’s going to take you to the spare room, you look to the left as he takes you further up the stairs. To your surprise, he turns right and your heart sinks straight into your stomach, you grow farther from the room and closer to his room. Not knowing how to react, you follow him, trying your best not to look terrified, you didn’t expect him to do this.

He leads you inside and closes the door, noticing your shock, he lets go of your hand. As if your feet were bolted to the floor, you stand where you are and watch him walk to his closet. 

“Where-...Where do I sleep?” You ask like a mouse, your voice barely coming to his ears.

“The bed.”

You breathe in and breathe out, it’s okay. You walk towards to the bed and sit on the edge, not undoing the bed-sheets or even getting near the pillow. You know you look awkward but you don’t feel comfortable. When he emerges from the closet, your eyes direct to what he’s holding, handcuffs? Not again.

When he sees that alarmed look in your sleepy gaze. He holds his hands up to show you that he means no harm, “It’s okay, don’t worry, I have to take extra precautions,” With one hand, he pulls the sheets back and stares at you with warm eyes. You start moving, but a little too slow for him, he drags you to the middle of the large bed by your arm like a rag-doll. 

“Lay down,” He pulls the sheets over you and then gets under himself, “I won’t do anything while you’re sleeping, I promise.” 

Taking his word, you do as he says and scoot further under the sheets to lay on your side, facing away from him. 

You’re so impossible. “Face me,” You feel his hand on your shoulder as he turns you over. He grabs your wrist, clicks one cuff on you, and the other on himself. 

Confused, you look at him then at your left hand and his right hand that is now bound by the metal restraint. 

“Don’t try anything stupid. I don’t trust you enough to let you roam free while I’m asleep.” He yawns, scooting a bit closer so that you’re not pulling his arm uncomfortably. “Sorry, you lost that privilege a while ago.”

This didn’t go as planned. He wasn’t supposed to take you to his bed, you weren’t supposed to have a breakdown and fight him, you were hoping it would go smoother than this. Now you’re laying in his king-sized bed, cuffed to him as you face each other.

His eyes are open and prying, enjoying being so close to your pretty face, he’s been waiting for this moment. You’re so entertaining to watch, he smirks when he notices you struggling to stay awake. Every few seconds, your eyelids would flutter a bit and you would frown, trying to keep them open despite your fatigue.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling caught, “you should go to sleep,” He mumbles, rubbing your arm with his free hand, “I won’t go to sleep until you do, so we could do this all night, but I know you’re not gonna last.” He murmurs with a sleepy grin.

“Why did you break up with Jin?” His question is so sudden, it catches you off guard and you stammer, trying to figure how he knows that and how you should respond.

“How did you know that?...” 

“Just tell me why.”

“We were good friends, an- and it should have stayed that way,” You pause, a little shy to explain further, “we had two different lives that just weren’t compatible anymore, that’s it...”

He makes a sound of acknowledgment, satisfied with your answer. 

“I know you’ve been living alone for the last few years, I’m sure you got lonely after the breakup, you don’t have a lot of friends,” He keeps his hand on your shoulder, still rubbing gently, “but you seem okay. You do a lot of things to busy yourself, your job, volunteering, things like that...That’s good, you function well by yourself. But here, you seem so small and your independence is gone, you have to rely on me, you hate that don’t you? I’m sorry, I know you do...But I’m all you have, you’re starting to understand that,” 

His hand is warm, and you find yourself leaning into the feeling when he scoots even closer, your face now centimeters from his, “That’s good, you’re so good Y/n...” He praises you, nuzzling his head against yours.

“Hey, you know what’ll be fun? How about you ask me a question,” Sleepily, you shake your head no, and he frowns.

“Come on, there must be something you want to know,” He pries, pushing your hair aside so you can look up at him, “Ask me something, I’ll answer one question, then you can sleep.”

“Um...” You rake your tired mind for a question and one suddenly comes to mind, “What’s your name?...I- I don’t know your name...” 

“Good question,” He coos, “my name is Taehyung.” Finally, you know something about him, rather than him telling you any and everything you’ve ever done in your lifetime. You breathe in and shut your eyes, squeezing your fist and exhaling against his skin. 

You relax in his heavy embrace, you let him hold you and he sighs when he feels you succumb to sleep. He knows this isn’t real. He’s been in his line of work far too long to be played, even by someone he adores as much as you. Unbeknownst to you, he knows exactly what you’re doing but he’s letting you do it anyway, for selfish reasons. He knows the drill, become friends with the enemy, sleep with the enemy, and your chances of defeating the enemy increase. Despite being aware that you’re deceiving him, he doesn’t care. If it means he can hold you close and not be pushed away, it doesn’t matter how real or fake it is—he wants it anyway. 

[auburnfamilynews]

November. It’s a month that sends shivers up the spine of any College Football fan. It’s a month that defines years in ones life. 1996? A miserable year. 1997? The way God intended a year to be. 2014? None of that sir. 2017? All that and twice on Sundays please. November is all of 10 days old and there are some teams that want to have a do-over already. “Who are they?”, you ask dear reader. Well pull up a cha…oh you’re already sitting. Well, sit back and enjoy this week’s BOOM! Roasted!

WILLIE CHAD MORRIS WATCH 2019

Arkansas has had a rough go of it for the past…well for a good while now. Member when BERT had them humming? Don’t worry, their fans don’t either. But Chad Morris came in two years ago with the promise of a HUNH offense that worked (sorta) at SMU and definitely did at Clemson. Well, the rebuild had the look of the movie The Money Pit. Everyone always saying, “It’ll take two more weeks.” More like two more years. We all got to see what I’m talking about a couple of weeks ago when the Auburn offense exploded on the Hogs for 51 points while the defense didn’t give up a point until its was second and third teamers against the Hogs’ ones in the second half. Well this week Arkansas hosted Western Kentucky for Senior Day. And the fan base came out in their finest

And boy did they sure show up for the contest too!

Wow, here's a photo of Razorback Stadium in the first quarter of the Arkansas- Western Kentucky game. Photo compliments of David Bazzel. pic.twitter.com/4kqlyHxkjy

— Randy Stowe (@rstowe1225) November 9, 2019

Well that doesn’t bode well for this watch to last long. As for the game?

This is the kind of day Arkansas is having. Western Kentucky's kicker did this! pic.twitter.com/x1IR60Up5h

— Max Olson (@max_olson) November 9, 2019

Oh good Lord…

The rest of the game didn’t turn out any better as the final gun would sound

Arkansas falls to Western Kentucky 45-19 on Senior Day. pic.twitter.com/0vxUvPhpiq

— THV11 (@THV11) November 9, 2019

Is it just me, or when you see it like that does it make it look even worse? I mean it’s bad, but that way make it even worse right? Well it wouldn’t take long, as one would expect, making this the shortest watch in the history of the Roasted.

Wins under Chad Morris: Eastern Illinois, Tulsa, Portland St. and Colorado St. Losses: Colorado St., North Texas, San Jose St., Western Kentucky AND every SEC game. What a strange year and a half for Arkansas football. https://t.co/MQKJROaaKl

— Jim Joyner (@jimthejam) November 10, 2019

So now we have FSU and Arkansas open for jobs and now the fun really begins as the rumor mill starts in full tilt!

“We’ve already crossed off Urban Meyer; we’ve already crossed off Bob Stoops. Today’s story — which is utterly ridiculous — is they are trying to reach out to Nick Saban to be the next coach at Florida State. The FSU coaching search is already off the rails.”—@ClayTravis pic.twitter.com/BloE3M0XgE

— Outkick the Coverage (@Outkick) November 7, 2019

Yup, coaching moves this year are gonna be stupid.

HAVE A GLASS OF WATER BIG FOURTEEN TEN, YOU’RE DRUNK

So, I sorta shorted you guys last week when I only did two games last week cause I couldn’t find another Boys II Men song that worked for me so I will make up for it here. First off, Michigan State is always known for a stingy defense and a coupe of guys they put out on offense and they sometimes score points, but not often. Well this week they hosted Illinois in East Lansing and it looked to be an easy day for the home team.

Michigan State has scored more points in 17+ minutes vs. Illinois (21) than it did the entire month of October (17). Spartans lead Illinois 21-3 early in the 2Q. pic.twitter.com/lYr16EmPrI

— Chris “Mack” Mackinder (@Chris_Mackinder) November 9, 2019

See what I mean about that scoring thing? Well they would hold a 28-3 lead over the Illini until the last play of the 2nd quarter.

HOW DID BRANDON PETERS PULL THIS OFF? He nearly fumbles before delivering a 47-yard TD strike to @JoshBhebhe to close the @IlliniFootball half: pic.twitter.com/2KZnAVHl0o

— Big Ten Network (@BigTenNetwork) November 9, 2019

Ok, so that’s unfortunate but Sparty would add a field goal to make it 31-10 as we entered the 4th quarter of play. Layup win right?

Well…

Michigan State was up 21 on Illinois in the fourth quarter. What a wild day in East Lansing. pic.twitter.com/Tbxxb7iuZo

— Brad Galli (@BradGalli) November 10, 2019

Not good.

UNBELIEVABLE! @IlliniFootball comes back from 25 down to seal the largest comeback in school history. Oh, and they're going bowling. pic.twitter.com/Fp2VhUAPtQ

— Big Ten Network (@BigTenNetwork) November 10, 2019

Oofa…

pic.twitter.com/4sHI4YIL4k

— no context college football (@nocontextcfb) November 10, 2019

Yeah, that’s…wow…

Also, it makes Illinois bowl eligible. It leaves Michigan State unable to make plans yet for after November.

And the worst part, this was at home. I am a Falcons fan (I know I enjoy pain but at least we beat the Aints) so I can commiserate with Sparty here but….damn dude, at least we did that to a good team, you did that to Illinois.

In the other half of the fun in the B1G, Minnesota played their first significant game since Roosevelt was in office against Penn State this weekend and the Gophers brought out the big guns to rattle the Nits.

Minnesota put a Gopher on the scoreboard during Penn State's FG attempt pic.twitter.com/EPo9MZQTgH

— SI College Football (@si_ncaafb) November 9, 2019

Well played Minnesota, well played.

As for the game, man was it fun. Back and forth battle where defense was optional but still had some great defensive plays sprinkled in. In the end, this would happen.

And with that, No. 17 Minnesota takes down No. 4 Penn State (via @GopherFootball) pic.twitter.com/lrLHi693MN

— SI College Football (@si_ncaafb) November 9, 2019

Which directly led to this

Absolute SCENES in Minnesota as the No.17 Gophers upset No.4 Penn State. ( : @theothermegryan) pic.twitter.com/9UUHo0EPDs

— theScore (@theScore) November 9, 2019

Good for Goldy, they were starved for a big victory since the last one they really had was Glenn Mason telling Georgia nevermind back after they fired Ray Goff. (YEAH TAKE THAT GEORGIA! A MINNESOTA COACH TOLD YOU NO!! HATE WEEK STRONG BABY!)

LAST ONE FOR THE ROAD

Pac-12 suspends referee 1 game for mistakenly accessing a hands to face penalty on Washington State player instead of Cal player, who committed penalty in WSU-Cal game Saturday. Remainder of officiating crew “downgraded” according to league office

— Brett McMurphy (@Brett_McMurphy) November 11, 2019

SEC fans like to think we have the worst officials on the planet but apparently the PAC-12 asks for volunteers at that booth beside the Credit Card signup station before you enter the stadium. This is the 3rd...THIRD!...instance of the PAC-12 suspending one or a group of refs for making an egregious error during a game.

This is play incorrectly called against @WSUCougarFB’s @hd42___. It was 20-11 Cal at this point. Call resulted in a 59 yard swing against WSU. No one is suggesting the result changes on this call, but it’s another example of the ineptness of @pac12 officials. #GoCougs https://t.co/QzkluqKeQu pic.twitter.com/JO48mUjCpg

— Derek Deis (@DerekKXLY) November 10, 2019

I know its kind of hard to tell from the video but I can tell that only one helmet shot back. Man, I know the gonja is legal out there and all but there ain’t no dang sense in the refs gettin’ in to it in the pregame WEST COAST PAWL!

NOTHING ELSE HAPPENED THIS WEEKEND AND YOU SHOULDN’T SCROLL DOWN ANY FARTHER

I'm happy to bring you the content you didn't know you needed, but love to have. #LSUrep #sadfansaresad pic.twitter.com/IZyFH05CCh

— Michael Cauble (@Cauble) November 10, 2019

Aw, I told you not to! You….you guys….

from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2019/11/11/20958556/boom-roasted-week-11

[50funny]

Mage: Chapter 42 - The Society At The End Of Society

Written By 50Funny

Part 1- The remnants of society

“hmmm well, we should probably take them to see Emily.” 

“Sound’s good to me, have fun explaining this to her,” Ryan said as he pointed his gun over the entire group. “Everyone walk in front of me, don’t do anything stupid or I won't hesitate to put you down."

 The group looked around to each other before forming a line in front of Ryan. The automatic doors leading deeper into the store began to slowly pull open as the group was marched towards their unknown fate. Light flooded into the dimly lit room from further into the store. The group's jaws simultaneously dropped as the ywalked through the doors into the main section of the store. All of the shelves that once marked out the various isles had been pushed up against the walls leaving a wide-open space in the middle. Spread out across the store floor where several tents, camp chairs, and sleeping bags. The place was packed his hundreds of people, chattering among themselves, playing games and doing various tasks and jobs. Liz turned around to look at Ryan as he led them through the sprawling maze of tents.

“How are there so many people here? I thought that everyone in the city was meant to be dead or one of those things?” asked Liz.

Ryan scowled at Liz, his stare commanding her to silence. The other, nerdier man hoped along the line to Liz and began walking beside her.

“When everything started going down the last remaining law enforcement started rounding up survivers and bringing them here so that they could keep us all protected. They’re all pretty much gone now but they taught us everything we needed to know to survive,”

“But how do you keep everyone fed, there are so many people here?”

“The gardening sections pretty useful but the rest is…” the stranger's words were cut off by the sound of Ryan clearing his throat loudly.

The stranger turned around to see Ryan glaring daggers into him.

“Don’t talk to the prisoners, they could be trying to get information out of us so they can learn our weaknesses and use them against us,” Ryan said sternly.

The stranger turned back to look at Liz and the rest of the group before looking back to Ryan.

“But they don’t seem dangerous or anything.”

Ryan raised his hand and rested his head in it as he let out a long irritated groan.

“You’re hopeless, just stop talking to them okay.”

The stranger pouted as he turned forward and continued to march next to Liz 

“I’m Brett by the way,” Brett whispered as he leaned into Liz.

“Liz… nice to meet you,” Liz replied, smiling in return. 

“I heard that,” Ryan groaned.

Part 2- The Meeting.

The group headed by Tom was marched up a steep narrow staircase. He reached the top of the stairs emerging into a wide-open lounge-like room with a door guarded by two men in tattered police uniforms. Ryan marched the rest of the group up the stairs and into the lounge. He lowered his gun and walked across to the door. He reached out towards the handle before being blocked by the two guards moving to cover the door.

“State your business,” one of the guards ordered.

“Are you kidding? Just let me through already,” Ryan replied as he once again tried to grab at the door with no success.

“You know the rules Ryan, no one gets in without a scheduled meeting,” the other guard said.

Without warning the door came swinging inward raveling a woman in an immaculately kept police uniform behind.

“Just let them in already, who cares about a scheduled meeting,” the lady scolded.

The first guard turned to look at the lady, a scowl stretching across his face.

“Yes… mam,” the man growled between his teeth.

 The two men stepped aside letting Ryan pass in between them followed by Brett and the rest of the group. The group emerged into an office with a large window overlooking the store floor below. Along the wall opposite the window was a large desk with the women who had granted them access sitting behind it pouring herself a glass of water.

“Thanks for the help back there Emily,” said Ryan.

“Don’t mention it, those two are still sticklers for the old rules,” Emily replied as she placed the water container down on the table.

She looked up to see the unexpectedly large group of unfamiliar faces staring back at her.

“And… who might your friends be?”

“I think that Brett might be able to explain that one to you,” Ryan replied.

Emily's gaze turned to Brett.

“well.. umm I sort of maybe kind of let them in… haha,” Brett stuttered.

Emily placed her head in her hand as she let out a long irritated groan.

“So when I gave you explicit instructions to not do anything stupid what did you think I said,” 

“Well… they didn’t look like a threat to me.”

“How could you possibly of known that,” Emily said as she looked back up to Brett. “For all you know they could be working with that sniper.”

The group looked at each other. Alex took a long step towards Emily.

“What do you mean sniper?” Asked Alex.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Ryan spat acquisitional 

Emily turned to look at Alex. She walked in front of the desk and lent against it.

“A few weeks ago on a supply run, we came in contact with a strange man. Immediately he started attacking us, we didn’t even notice him until he started shooting. We lost a lot of good people including our old leader, leaving me in charge. Ever since we’ve been having trouble gathering supply’s hence why adding five more mouths to feed isn't the best idea right now,” she said shifting her eyes to glare at Brett.

“I'm sorry alright I wasn’t just gonna let them die,” Brett replied, throwing his hand up in the air defensively.

Tom stepped forward to stand by Alex.

“Look we’re not here to hurt you. The same guy who attacked you shot down our helicopter, we’re with the military,” Tom explained.

“The same military that locked down the city and left us all here to die?… yeah, id keep that little tidbit to yourself if I was you,” Emily said before letting out a long sigh. “I’m sorry but they have to go.”

“What the hell, you cant do that… they’ll die out there,” Brett said.

“I’m sorry but it’s the only way.”

Ryan loudly cleared his throat drawing the group's attention over to him.

“Sorry, Emily… I hate to take his side in all of this but with the horde this lot riled up outside it’s probably not a great idea to open any of the doors just yet.” 

Emily once again rested her head in the palm of her hand as she let out a long irritated groan.

“Fine… they can stay the night. Brett go get them set up… and for the love of God don’t do anything stupid ok.”

“You got it,” Brett replied, a wide, victorious smile stretching across his face. “Come on… follow me guys.”

Brett merely walked out the door followed behind by the rest of the group. Emily turned to face Ryan as the group left.

“Make sure to keep him in check ok,” Emily said, her eyes almost pleading with him.

Brett nodded in understanding before turning and following the rest of the group out of the room.

Part 3- Getting To Know Each other

Alex walked through the dimly lit store floor, dodging between the other survivors scattered around the place. He awkwardly balanced six small bowls of soup in his arms. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed the survivers glaring up at him, always quickly glancing away when he went to look at them. He reached the rest of his group sitting around a small shabby wooden table. Alex sat down at the table, careful not to spill any of his meals.

“Everybody’s looking at us funny, they really don’t like us huh,” Alex said.

“Can you blame them, to them we’re just a bunch of strangers coming to steal their food and take up their space,” Liz replied.

Alex placed the bowls down in front of him. He began to rub his hands together greedily as he prepared to dig in.

“Oh, how kind… you got food for the rest of us,” Calem said as he reached out and grabbed one of Alex's plate.

“Hey what the hell…” Alex snapped before feeling Liz's hand on his shoulder.

“Alex… share,” Liz instructed authoritatively.

The rest of the group grabbed away one of Alex bowls and began eating. Alex looked on in dismay.

“Huh… hey no fair,” Alex mumbled under his breath.

Liz lifted a spoon full from the bowl to her mouth. As she ate she looked up to see Tom talking with Ryan and Brett. Clutched in Ryan’s hands was a long sheet of paper that the rest of the group scanned intently.

“What do you think they’re talking about over there,” Liz said.

Alex looked over at the other group.

“Don’t know, maybe he’s trying to convince them to give us more food,” Alex replied.

“Is that seriously all you think about.”

Tom nodded at Ryan and Brett before turning and making his way back towards the rest of the group. Liz and Alex quickly turned away and went back to their food to not be caught staring. Tom reached the rest of the group and took a seat next to Alex. He looked down at the two plates left in front of Alex.

“Thanks, man,” Tom said as he took one of the plates away from Alex.

“What… hey… great now I'm gonna starve,” Alex muttered under his breath.

“So what were you talking about with the locals,” Calem chimed in.

“Oh… nothing, just getting to know each other, trying to clear the air between us a little you know,” Tom said, avoiding eye contact.

Liz looked at Tom as he ate his food continuing to avoid any eye contact with the rest of the group.

“You know, I just realized but I don’t really know that much about any of you,” Liz stated.

The rest of the group turned to face Liz, surprised by her unprompted statement.

“Besides Alex and Bip, the rest of you might as well be perfect strangers. If we’re gonna be work together then we should probably get to know each other a little you know.”

An awkward silence came over the group as they all thought about Liz’s words. 

“Ha, what’s the point of that. even if there was much to tell how would know each other better help us?” Edgar chuckled callously.

“Oh don’t be so rude. Sorry about my friend, he may come off as rough but once you get to know him you’ll realize he has a gentle soul deep down,” Calem chimed in.

“That’s not true,” Edgar stuttered, his cheeks turning a dim red as he shied his gaze away.

“Oh really huh, well then how about I tell the fable of Calem then hey.”

Edgar's eyes widened and filled with joy as he quickly turned to face his friend.

“The fable of Calem… what’s that?” asked Bip. 

“It’s the story of my life. Gather round and listen to the legend of a young man who went on to form one of the greatest guilds of all time,” Calem said with no small degree of showmanship.

Calem stood up out of his chair and averted his eyes from the group.

“It is a well-known fact that the world as we know it is in a constant state of conflict with itself. It is often believed that the most important battle is that between good and evil, but there is one even more important, one whos implication is far more grandiose…”Calem said. He swiftly moved his right hand to point up into the air and held his left out behind him, taking up an epic pose. “The Battle between clean and dirty!” he continued, his voice brimming with epicness and power.

The rest of the group looked on in utter dumbstruck confusion baring Edgar whose eyes widened as he looked on in wonder.

“From a young age, I had an innate sense of clean and the knowledge and ability to use it wisely. I would spend lunch breaks at school cleaning and tidying the classroom, and when I got home I wouldn’t rest until the day's filth had been entirely purged. As I developed my magic powers my cleaning ability’s only continued to grow greater. At first, my parents and teacher loved my passion, after all, when I was around they would never have to lift a finger to tidy up, but one day,” Calem said as he drifted off into flashback.

Calem’s teacher walked up to the young boy from outside. She looked around the immaculately kept classroom before returning her gaze back to Calem with a smile.

“Amazing work as always Calem,” the teacher said.

Calem looked up to the teacher, scanning her all over. He let out a brief hum.

“Umm miss… did you shower last nighter,” calem said matter of factly.

A horrified expression etched itself across the teacher's face.

Calem averted his gaze away from the rest of the group as a tear began to form in his eye.

“After that day due to what they called my obsession and a basic lack of understanding for proper social interaction, everyone tried to convince me that not everything had to be perfectly clean. My parents and teachers limited how much I could tidy and tried to corrupt me to the side of filth…”

“So tragic,” Edgar muttered under his breath as his eye began to water and he intently watched Calems performance.

Liz turned to look at Edgar somewhat taken aback by his shift in mannerisms. He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and returned to his typical stoic expression as he felt Liz's eyes on him.

“Despite their attempts, I never faltered in my beliefs and passion. When I turned fifteen my mum enrolled me in our local Tarkan Axe Arts school so that I would have less time to clean. As soon as I started learning the way of the Axe I fell in love. Every second I wasn’t cleaning I was practicing with my Axe, and even as I cleaned I would use my knowledge of the arts to enhance my ability. if things had continued going the way they were I might of went on to become a master axeman… however…” a horrified expression etched itself onto his face. “The Tarken dojo was absolutely filthy! I spent half my time cleaning up after the other students, by the time I had finished the lesson was already over. I eventually quit my training, much to the dismay of my mother. Not long after that, I left home. For the next years, I struggled against all the odds. I formed my own guild, to fight against the torrent of filth in this world and slowly built it up to one of the most powerful guilds in the world.”

Tears began to stream down Edgar's cheeks uncontrollably. He wiped away the tears as fast as he could only for them to be replaced by new ones.

“What a tragic and beautiful tail, truly an epic for the ages, encore, encore,” Edgar said no longer holding back his emotions at all.

The rest of the group looked on, still unsure exactly what to make of Calem’s tale. Liz turned to face Tom.

“So how about you then… what’s your story?” asked Liz 

“huh? Not much to tell really. I've been in the Army since I was eighteen. Actually lived in the city for most of my life, a fact just a few weeks ago I was here on leave. If all of this had gone down a little earlier I might have been in that horde out there,” Tom joked before his smile quickly faded. “I was on my way to take part in some top-secret mission when I heard about everything going on here. I knew I had to come help so I managed to convince my commanding officer to transfer me here so I could do everything I could for my city.”

Tom looked down to the ground, his mood seeming to lower and he stared off in thought. He looked back up noticing the rest of the group staring at him.

“Oh… sorry for bringing the tone down… so what about you two then? Whats you’re story?” asked Tom.

Liz and Alex turned to look awkwardly at each other. Suddenly the radio clipped to Toms belt began to crackle to life.a voice could vagly be made out cutting through that static. Tom unclipped the radio from his belt and held it out in front of him.

“Capt…. Oung… trouble w… get back here… mediately,” the voice of general came crackling thought the static.

“General Barker… do you copy,” Tom said holding down the button on the radio.

“… three ele…. Repeat cod… three eleven,” the General continued before the radio cut out complexly.

“Guess there’s still some kind of interference,” said Tom.

“What’s code three eleven?” asked Liz.

“uhh nothing… it’s incomplete code.”

The loudspeakers above the group began to crackle to life. 

“It’s nine o’clock everyone so lights out gotta conserve power,” Emily’s voice came over the speakers.

The little light in the facility began to go out starting from one side of the building to the other.

“Looks like its time to get some shut-eye,” Alex said.

“Probably a good idea, we’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow,” Tom replied.

The group stood up out of their chairs and laid down on the uncomfortable cold floor. They shut their eyes and began to drift off to sleep, preparing themselves for the battles to come tomorrow. 

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Thank you for reading chapter 42 of mage. If you like what you see consider checking out my AO3 at this link https://archiveofourown.org/users/50Funny to see all new chapters 3 days early. If you feel so inclined please consider following my tumblr for all updates and other tid bits. Until next week, have a good day.