#It stressed me out for some reason i felt like i was 7 playing command and conquer on my moms windows xp again

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 7

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

8 Years Ago – Age 17

“Y/N, do you know why you are here?” the shrink asked from across the large desk.  You looked down at the typical uniform of a patient at a psychiatric ward.  Yes you knew why you were in here.  A few months ago you witnessed your father’s dead corpse hanging in your living room.  The next thing you knew you were writing a suicide note of your own and your foster parents found it before you could do anything.  Now, you were stuck in a psych ward, probably until you at least turned 18.

“Yep,” came your short response.  

The shrink glanced down at her papers in front of her, going through all of your notes.  “We want to help you as best we can Y/N.  You’ve been through some very traumatic experiences in your life and you’ve witnessed a great deal.  We are going to get you all the help you need.”

3 Months Later

“Have you heard of Borderline Personality Disorder Y/N?” your psychiatrist, Dr. Wang asked.  

That made your head snap in her direction.  Here you were, still stuck in the psych ward after three months and you weren’t sure why.  “I’ve heard of that, yes.  But I thought I was just depressed,” you mumbled, chewing on your fingernail.  

You were clinically diagnosed with depression shortly after coming here.  

“Well, that’s what we originally thought at first.  But the longer you’ve spent time here, the more I and the rest of the staff have discovered it is BPD.  You’re intense mood swings, combined with your ongoing feelings of emptiness and the intense bouts of anger you have are all signs of BPD. We are going to switch up your medications and that will really help with your mood swings and anger issues.

~~~

 No matter how hard you tried, sleep never came to you that afternoon.  You tossed and turned all afternoon in your bed and nothing seemed to be working.  Not only that, but you were really starting to get more irritable as the day went on and you knew it was time to change the dosing of your medication.  It was like clockwork, every year to year and a half. The only problem was that you couldn’t leave the tower without Steve, Bucky or an anyone else.  How were you supposed to get an appointment with your Psychiatrist if you couldn’t leave the tower alone?  This only increased your anger and frustration as you got out of bed to get ready.    

You brushed your teeth and put on a some jeans and a t-shirt, not really caring what you threw on. All of the specific clothing you wore for work was in the closet of your game room along with your makeup and accessories.  

Upon leaving your room, you saw Steve and Bucky sitting at the island in the kitchen of your shared apartment.  They both looked deep in thought over some paperwork and you assumed it was for work.

Grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, you were about to head into the elevator as you didn’t want to disturb them, but Steve spoke up and caught your attention.  “Where are you off to?”

“Oh, umm, I’m heading down to my game room.  I’m going to work tonight,” you mumbled out as you pressed the button for the elevator. You noticed it was on the ground floor and it would take a few minutes to get to your level.  

“What time do you plan on being done?” Steve questioned.  

You huffed in annoyance, already irritated as anger began to creep through your bones.  “I don’t know.  Whenever I get done,” you snapped.  Immediately you felt regret, but sometimes your emotions got the better of you when you were in dire need of a medication change.  

“Hey, what’s with the attitude?” Steve commanded as he got up from his seat and stalked over to you, hands on his hips.  You noticed Bucky looking at you from his seat with furrowed brows.  They had never seen you angry like this.  You were always so compliant and easy going.  

“Look, I’m sorry.  I’m just tired is all.”

Steve looked at you sharply, his lips in a thin tight line.  “Alright.  Just make sure you get to bed at a reasonable time tonight.  Promise?”

“I promise,” you answered back.  

~~~

In the comfort of your game room, you quickly got to work.  Digging through your closet, you decided on a light pink tank top that said ‘Gamer Girl’ in black letters with two gamer controls on it.  Since your webcam only showed your top half, you threw on a black pair of cotton shorts to be comfortable.  

Next, you put your hair up in space buns, making sure they were situated just right so they wouldn’t be in the way of your headphones.  You put on your typical game night makeup: bright pink eyeshadow with dark smoked out liner, some mascara and blush and you were good to go.  

Turning on your monitor, you began to power everything up and once that was done, you logged in. Immediately your followers started putting in their messages off to the side and you smiled as you read them. You always tried to read as much of them as you could.  

As the night went on, you knew you should pack it up and listen to what Steve said; getting to bed at a descent time and getting rest.  But you were having way too much fun tonight and so were your followers. It was one of the best nights you’d had in months and not just money wise.  

Ignoring the clock you continued to play and interact with your followers with the microphone that was attached to your headphones.  Every so often you would glance to your messages box and see what some of them had said.  Most of them were cheering you on but of course you always had some haters in there as well.  

It was when you noticed the screen name of one of them that made your blood run cold.  JSmith20. ‘It can’t be’ you thought to yourself, trying to keep as composed as possible as hundreds of people were watching you game in this very moment.  

John’s last name is Smith and he always told you how his favorite number was 20, because that was how old you were when you met him.  No, but he’s still in prison.  He hasn’t gotten out.  He’ll be in there for many more years to come.  It had to be one of his friends right?  The same friend that had been delivering those letters to your old apartment.  ‘Yes, that’s right.  It’s just one of his friends trying to torment you’ you thought to yourself.  

Then, the person behind that screen name typed a message into your message box.  

Hey babe.  Do you miss me yet?  I can’t wait to see you – J

Yep, your composure went out the window reading the message.   Then another message from him popped up.  

I see you are no longer living in that little one bedroom apartment.  Did you really think you could up and move and I wouldn’t be able to find you?  Oh babe, how cute.  I will find you and we will meet again soon.  I promise – J

As you stared at the words on your screen, you heard groans from the other players on your team.  You had just lost the game.  

“Shit,” you swore, anger bubbling up inside of you.  “Fucking damnit!”  You slammed your fist on the desk.  

You rarely lost games. Losing always put you in a foul mood. But because of already being irritable and your emotions on over drive, losing just made everything worse.  

Looking at the clock it was just before five in the morning so you logged off and shut everything down.

You took your hair out of the buns, immediately feeling the tension in your head ease.  Ever so quietly, you opened the door and poked your head out into the hallway.  It was bitch black so you used your phone as a flashlight and tiptoed to the elevator. Before pressing the button on the elevator, you paused.  What if the noise of the elevator woke up Steve or Bucky?  You had promised Steve that you would get to bed at a descent time and seeing as it was just about five in the morning, well, you kind of figured you’d be in trouble.  

Instead, you opened the door to the stairs which was situated right next to the elevator.  At least taking the stairs would be much quieter.

You climbed the stairs up a few levels until you reached your living level and you waited on baited breath for a few moments.  Nothing. Nothing but silence.  As quiet as a mouse, you snuck through the door and dashed to your room, thanking your lucky stars that the palm scanner didn’t make any noise.  

You took a nice hot shower, washing off all of your makeup and the stress of the last few hours.  As much as you wanted to forget John messaging you, it wasn’t going to happen, neither was any sleep.  

Rather than even bothering to get into bed and try to relax, you sent an email to your psychiatrist letting her know that you would more than likely need a dose change on your medications.  Frantically typing away at the email, you explained how you were beginning to get irritated and it was harder for you to control your bouts of anger.  

Luckily for you, Dr. Wang was an early bird and she emailed you right back.  She wanted you to come see her for an appointment and your heart immediately dropped.  That wasn’t going to happen as one of your rules was that you weren’t allowed out of the tower by yourself.  And as much as you liked Darcy, you couldn’t trust her to go with you and not say anything to Steve or Bucky.  

Typing out your reply, you explained that you were unfortunately not able to meet in person and if there was anything else that could be done.  After you hit sent, you began to pace in your apartment, clearly on edge with everything going on.  You just wanted to feel better; you hated feeling this way.  It was as if you weren’t in control of your body and you definitely weren’t in control of your emotions.  

A notification came through your laptop and you rushed towards it, almost tripping over your feet. As you read her words, you could have cried right then and there.  She had agreed to a phone call appointment and she had time right now to discuss things with you.  

Grasping your phone, you dialed her number.

“It’s good to hear from you Y/N,” Dr. Wang stated as she answered the phone.  

“Oh Dr. Wang it is so good to hear your voice.”

She let out a soft chuckle. “Yes, it has been a little over six months since we’ve last spoken.  How are things going with you?”

“Where to begin,” you started off saying.  You let her know that you indeed met your soulmates and had moved in with them. You went over the rules that Steve had given you and she made you feel better as she stated she had seen way worse rules.  Hell, she said your rules were like a walk in the park compared to some she has heard.

“Alright, now, let’s get down to business.  How are you feeling these past few days?” she asked curiously.  

“Ugh, not good. Moving was stressful but I have been feeling really irritated over the last few and I’ve had a few bouts of anger rush through me that makes me want to punch something, but I’ve luckily been able to hold back on that.”

“What about any risky behaviors such as reckless driving, spending sprees, binge eating, drug abuse or sabotaging anything positive in your life?”

“Not yet,” you stated. You knew the routine.  She was going over all the symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder to see what has changed with you.  

“Ok good.  How about any intense fears of abandonment or rejection?”

That question always hit you like a punch to the gut.  The only reason you had stayed with John for so long was because of that right there. He purposely wouldn’t let you see Dr. Wang or he wouldn’t take you to get your medications refilled and because of that, you were starting to feel those feelings; not wanting to be abandoned no matter what.  

“Nope,” you replied.  

“Ok then.  I am going to increase the dosing on your current medications but I want to warn you.  Without you coming in and personally seeing me and without getting some blood work done, I don’t know how well this dosing is going to work, if it will work at all. We might need to discuss changing the medication all together,” she stated.  

“I understand Dr. Wang. And do you think maybe you could prescribe some sort of sleep medication for me too?”

“I can prescribe a one week trial of a sleeping medication for you.  After that, I really need you to try and come see me in the office and we can discuss that further.  Now, did you want me to send these prescriptions into your regular pharmacy?”

“Yes, that would be great. Thank you so much Dr. Wang.”

“No worries at all Y/N. Give the office a call and get an appointment set up.”

“I will.  Thanks again.”

Now that you had your medications all taken care of, you had to figure a way to leave the tower so you could get them.  

[daisybeewrites]

Academy Blues — Prologue

word count: 1.8k

warnings: not any for this chapter

ship: Dousy, background Fitzsimmons and Philinda

okay y’all.. here it is. the first installment of my first LONG TERM SERIES!!!!!! ahhhh i’m so excited. literally i cant wait to continue this and see where it takes me. i have an idea and a few different planning sheets, but honestly i have no idea where exactly this will end up. i love each and single one of you <3 thank you for reading!! this is also posted on Ao3, and linked in the masterlist.

Daisy hated the sound of the bells at The Academy. Screeching, awful, way too loud, the bells were the bane of her existence. They all wore standard-issue watches from the lab that monitored vitals and gave them reminders, and also told the time, for god’s sake! Fitz had even modified hers so that she could play snake on the tiny watch face! There was no need for the bells to be so excruciatingly disruptive. Though, Daisy guessed, there were many things more tortuous than bells ringing every hour and fifteen minutes.

Daisy slowed to a jog, cutting her morning run short. The bright side to being a third-year was that you chose your schedule, for the most part, and that meant Daisy had a free first period for four out of five days of classes. She usually spent this free period getting an extra hour in at the gym, boxing or sparring with Mack or Bobbi, two fourth years that had reluctantly taken her under their wings, or sleeping in. She reserved sleeping in for especially rough nights where visions of ashes and earthquakes and lightning returned time and time again, no matter how many deep breaths she took or sheep she counted.

But this morning was not one of those mornings. She had been up before sunrise, a little before her usual alarm and silently headed out of her dorm for a run. It was humid this time of year on most Virginia mornings, but never so hot that it made Daisy feel as if she was being smothered. The cooler air chilled her sweaty skin, her chest rising and falling as she jogged up the three flights of steps to the second years’ dorms. Down one long hallway, and she arrived at her room.

Daisy had been given her own room at the start of last year, complete with poly-adaptic-proto-whatever panels, which she had painted a pastel shade of purple, to compliment the greens of her cacti and the dark purples and blacks of everything else in her room. Even May had agreed that the stark white was too ”psych wing” for a bedroom. Daisy was grateful for the space, but considering the panels and the private room were only necessary since...

She shuddered. Grabbing her shower caddy, Daisy set off to the bathroom at the opposite end of the hall, hoping no one else was spending a free first period at the dorms.

Her shoulder-length waves were wet from bouncing against her neck, and starting to become annoying now that the sweat had dried and was starting to itch. Picking the white tiled shower furthest away from the door, Daisy quickly turned the water on, checked the temperature, pulled her sports bra and shorts off and hopped into the shower. Shampoo, condition, soap body, rinse. Checking her watch, Daisy found that she had showered in record time, less than three minutes. After spending another five just enjoying the hot water, she hopped out and changed into her class clothes.

Dark purple leggings, Coulson’s grey vintage SHIELD tee and a pair of white running sneakers she had “borrowed” from Jemma completed her look. Passing the mirrors, Daisy tried not to glance at herself. If her hair was messy or her undereye bags a bit too dark, she didn’t want to know. Instead, she headed back to her room to pack her bag for the day.

SHIELD-issued laptop, extra hard drives and a charger, Advanced CS 3: Ethical Hacking: Theory and Application, Advanced CS 4: Secrets of The Coding Languages, Physics notebook, an essay that was three days late on some boring book about international laws, and her sparring gear were all thrown into the black bag. She gave a second glance at the Russian notebooks Bobbi had loaned to her, promising that she’d learn without taking the class. Oh well, she still had all of this term to start. Plus, would she ever really need more than the dirty words?

One look at the alarm clock that sat on her dark hardwood night table showed that she still had almost forty-five minutes before she had to be in the computer lab. Sitting down on her bed, Daisy ran a hand over the grey blanket May had given her.

Daisy’s relationship with May and Coulson had been something of a problem with other students when she first got here. Some had been okay with the obvious paternal love Coulson showed for Daisy, showing her around and checking up on her, scheduling lunch dates and reminding her of tests. May was more subtle, texting her links to tai chi videos when she noticed Daisy getting too stressed or letting Daisy do her own thing if she saw that she was overwhelmed. Of course, none of the other students knew her family history, what she had gone through just to realize that May and Coulson were more her parents than her biological father and mother could ever be. She would see them later today—May during field training and Coulson in between lectures in the canteen.

Daisy walked over to her window to open her blinds, staring out at the campus she had grown to love. The large brick buildings scattered around acres of the Virginia countryside; green fields meant for physical activities like sparring or obstacle courses, or simply basking in the weather to study or chat; the dorms—red brick and concrete melded together to upgrade and expand the charming style of previously-built homes.

Grabbing a protein bar, Daisy headed to the canteen to make a green smoothie (and maybe snatch a cup of joe before she had to listen to an hour-long lecture on the reason SHIELD must cooperate with the UN’s stupid rules at 7:30 in the morning). Smelling the pines and morning dew surrounding her, she smiled slightly. Maybe this term wouldn’t be so bad.

———————————————————————

Daniel Sousa was a man of honor. He was a man of great strength. Agent Daniel Sousa, previously Officer Daniel Sousa in the US Army, was a man who could fix his damn alarm clock on his own.

Just, not today. Or the day before.

So, Agent Daniel Sousa was now hurrying his way to class at The SHIELD Academy, books in hand and gym bag slung over his shoulders. Catching a glance at himself in the shiny glass doors of the bio-chem building, he groaned. He hadn’t even brushed his hair. And, looking down, he discovered he was wearing two different shoes.

This is the college experience everyone raves about, he thought bitterly. You see, Daniel Sousa had enlisted to the army straight out of high school, forgoing university. He climbed the ranks impressively quickly, earning his place as second-in-command and reconnaissance scout in the 28th Infantry Regiment. Unfortunately, after only four years in the army, Sousa was injured in the field, losing his leg and almost his life.

He came back to the US a war hero, and yet, he felt he wasn't finished. So, when a recruiter named Peggy Carter knocked on his door claiming to be from SHIELD (“Wow, you guys are still a thing?”), he leapt at the chance to continue fighti-...doing good. The Academy wasn’t exactly what he had bargained for, though. Trying to earn his B.A. and training to be an agent at the same time was grueling, but nothing he couldn’t deal with.

No, six different one hour and fifteen minute long classes plus mandatory physical therapy every day wasn’t going to break him. Learning how to be a communications agent and re-starting field training and catching up on general college education was no problem. Pressuring himself to be the best, to break the limits, to get past all his weaknesses was just another miniscule feather to add to the pile.

Unless his stupid alarm clock broke. Then yes, Agent Daniel Sousa would fail, buckle under the weight and be left on the floor to die.

Maybe he was being a bit dramatic.

One bunny-slippered right foot and a sneakered left leg carried him forward, propelled by a quickly chugged orange Celsius and his sheer will not to be late.

Daniel heard the late bell ring out, understanding that, on his first day of class, he would be counted late. It wasn’t like him, not at all. Especially when his first class was a refresher course on field tactics and covert strategy, something in which he was already aces.

He let out a sigh, slowing as he rounded the corner into the comms building. At the Academy, most buildings were grouped into categories: the cafeteria, gym and pool, and student resource building all to the south; the gun range, obstacle course, and specialized gym to the east; bio-chem labs, tech labs, and smaller rooms for lectures to the west; the computer labs and comms buildings right smack in the middle; and dorms to the north.

He swiped a key card with his driver’s license picture and student ID, unlocking the sliding doors that led to the computer labs. It was quicker to short cut through them than to walk around the building to the entrance closest to communications classrooms.

It wasn’t because he knew a certain broody brunette spent her mornings in the lab.

No, it wasn’t, because she wasn’t in her usual seat in the corner, typing away.

He slowly walked through the rows of computers, searching for a familiar black backpack. Nothing was there.

“Hey, Sousa,” an accented female voice called behind him. He whipped around to see who it was, feeling just a twinge of disappointment when Elena, or, as most people knew her, Yo-Yo, was leaning against the door frame. Yo-Yo, a fourth year operations trainee, who was very close with Daisy.

“Hey, Yo-Yo. Good morning,” he called, “I’m running a bit late.”

Elena checked her nails casually, “Way to state the obvious. You were running faster than I could trying to get here before the bell.”

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “Yeah…”

“Daisy’s running late today, too.”

Daniel looked around, pretending that hearing Daisy’s name didn’t make him want to smile. “Oh, of course. She’s usually here early.”

Elena nodded, chuckling a little at his response. She couldn’t tell if he was oblivious or just a bad liar. It was charming, really. “Right. See ya ‘round, Sousa!”

“See ya,” He replied. He thought he heard a quiet ‘Lovable nerds’ coming from the direction she left, but he couldn’t be sure.

And so, with a last look around the computer lab, Daniel set off to arrive late to May’s lecture.

———————————————————————

okay okay,,, what do y’all think?? like/reblog and let me know! it’s the best way to support writers and it only takes a second! stay tuned for more chapters!!

[stay-midnight]

Halloween of the SKidz 11

Guardian Angel! Jeongin x Male Reader

Word Count: 3.3K

This does not represent Yang Jeongin, Stray Kids and JYP Entertainment in any way shape or form and will only be used for entertainment purposes!

TW //: Explicit Smut, Reader fell of the stairs, Quitting of job, Reader almost getting hit by a truck and Fluff at end.

Warnings/Kinks: Hard Dom Jeongin, Sub (Kinda bratty?) Male Reader, orgasm Denial, mentions of hickeys at the end, anal penetration, back scratching, lip biting, making out, nipple play, jeongin calling y/n prince, unprotected sex (wrap it up), no prep before penetration, (also prep before penetrating), Cuss words and Angry Sex(?)

Don’t mind my grammar mistakes and spelling mistakes.. My lazy ass didn't check it 🤡

a/n: Why do I feel like my vocabulary is getting lesser- dkxkdkdkskkdd well ill start on the other request now since this is done. hopefully you like this though-

You rushed into your work building so fast, careful with the cup of coffee that you were holding. You saw the elevator closing, “Wait, Wait! Hold the door!” You groaned as the elevator door shut on your face.

You instantly switched to Plan B ran to the stairway and ran up to it, your shoes stomp echoing in the empty stairway.

You reached the fifth floor in 5 minutes as your grip on the stair hold tightened, your chest heaved up and down and you try to catch your breath. The coffee cup in your hand somehow full after a fast jog up the stairs.

You blinked and recollected yourself sprinting to your boss’ office, ignoring all the other workers’ eyes on you.

“Tsk, First day of your job and you’re already late,” he stopped to check his watch “6 minutes.” he spat with a glare.

Your lips formed in a thin line stopping yourself scoffing at his statement, “I’m sorry. Sir.” your voice laced with a slight sarcasm.

You hand him his cup of coffee, the main reason that you came in late due to a long queue in that cafe. You urge to throw the hot coffee at his face but didn’t not wanting to lose the only job that you got hired out of the of 4 other jobs as a secretary.

You wiped your forehead with your arm, removing the sweat from it. You saw your boss talking to air, probably his guardian angel, sighing, as you didn’t have one like others.

It was unfair for you since you weren’t born with a guardian angel that is protecting you like the others. You frowned upon this thought and look at your boss, “Sir.. What is my task?” You asked in a bored tone.

He looks back at you with a glare as you tried your hardest to not roll your eyes.

“I have a very important meeting in about 20 minutes and you’ll prepare it. This is your first ever task as my secretary so I expect you to give your best unless you want to be fired like the others.” he said seriously, handing you a tablet.

You gave him a nod, reaching your hand for the tablet and turned your back at him after. You tapped some things on the screen in a confused manner, “How the hell do you prepare a meeting with this..” You scrunched your noise, inspecting the tablet.

and in 20 minutes as well?!” I sighed and worked with this.

. . .

After about 7 minutes of tweaking and tapping, you were very stressed on how to use this. “This is stupid.” you exclaimed with no emotions. Another lost job is most likely the scenario that is about to happen.

“Hello~” You yelped suddenly and turned to your back, you blink a number of times. There was no one there.

You gulped, “Uh.. Hi?” you mumbled to particularly no one. You turned your head side to side, hoping to catch a glimpse of a person to know that you’re not going crazy.

All you saw was the workers working their butts off and they don’t seem to be speaking to you

“Quit the job~” a voice said, the sound of their voice similar to earlier. “I- I can’t do that?” you said perplexed by the situation.

The people surrounding you soundly ignored your weird antics of talking to yourself, mistaking it that you’re talking to your guardian angel.

“You should, you’re gonna get fired anyway. Save yourself from the embarrassment.” the male voice stated bluntly.

You grit your teeth, “How do you know that? Who are you anyway?” you said with sharp tone, looking around you again. “Show yourself..”

A sudden flash of white appeared behind you, he tapped your shoulder. “I’m your guardian angel~” he said in a quite chilling tone making your spine crawl.

You looked up behind you and saw a very handsome male floating in the air, smirking at you. Your mouth hung open in shock, “T-Thats a lie..” you breathed out. “I don’t have one. I wasn’t born with one..” you stated looking at him with a glare.

“You weren’t born with one but now you have one.” he said rolling his eyes at your glare and flying to your left.

“Yeah right. A guardian angel wouldn’t want the person their protecting to suddenly quit a job.” you said harshly, your eyes following him.

“Who said that I’m like other guardian angels? Listen here buddy, I protect you in return you give me what I want.” the male said, keeping the smirk plastered on his handsome face.

“Oh fuck that.” you spat at back at him, your glare burning holes right through him.

“Suit yourself, but like I said if you need me just call out my name—Jeongin.” he said, chuckling as he disappeared into thin air.

You rolled your eyes at nothing and looked towards the clock hanging at the wall, only 6 minutes left. “Fuck, stupid angel.”

Jeongin watches you with a grin, laughing every now and then at your failed attempts at your task. “Stupid human.. he’ll give in soon enough.. anyone human, I am tasked to guard and protect has extremely bad luck to the point that they can possibly die.” his grin widening,

“What to do with him after he gives in..” he furrowed his eyebrows, thinking deeply. He eyed your features before smirking, “My lust it is then.”

. . .

Jeongin hummed as he watch you get scolded by your boss, “Hm, he hasn’t quitted his job yet. Interesting, I wonder how long he could take all of his boss’ wrath. Probably not long..” he inspected your personality as he got curiouser of you.

. .

He yawned as he watched in boredom of you trying to ‘work’ if that was even what you were doing. You were all over the place, walking around and delivering papers. At this point on, you weren’t even a secretary. You’re more like helper running around.

Jeongin dozed off too sleep at some point due to the loss of entertainment.

Your eye twitched in annoyance as your boss commanded you, he instructed you deliver papers, print, stamp them as well.

“This is bullshit.” you muttered under your breath as you crashed the paper at the worker’s table. The female worker yelped suddenly and look up at you in confusion. She noticed your annoyed expression and stayed silent.

As much as you wanted to gouge your boss’ eyes out. You followed his every instruction and done every one of his task almost perfectly.

You sighed and wore an annoyed expression as you walked back down to the second floor, gripping the stacks of folders containing ‘important’ files, sounds nice to be set aflame.

You slipped on the tiles on the stairs causing you to gasp and fall down one set of staircase, the paper flew and created a mess on the time that you fell down.

. . . .

“Seems like my bad luck finally took place.” Jeongin let out chuckle, blinking his eyes open and grinning at your messy self.

“Just give up sweet human, unless you wanna end up like the last one. Killed in his sleep.” he sighed out to no one while you were getting up.

. . . .

“Ah-ah shit..” you fall back down as pain shot up your leg. You grip the stairhold and you try to get up again.

You grunt in pain as you leaned at the stairhold for support, you look down at the mess of papers that you created,

“I’m too tired of this stupid job.” You say, then you manage to stand on two feet, the pain slightly duller.

You then walked up to reach the fifth floor, extremely careful to make sure you don’t fall again while you limp up the stairs.

You shamelessly walked into your boss’ room, “I quit this stupid job.” you said giving him the I.D that you got just this morning and walked out of the room, ignoring your boss’ shocked expression with his lips slightly parted.

“Close your mouth, a bug might fly in.” you smirked and taunted him before pressing the button to to down the elevator

“That felt good.” you said dusting your shoulder while walking inside the elevator.

You sighed as you needed to find another job, “Maybe a barista at a bar?” you placed your hand on your chin and thought.

“Or maybe just a waiter or even maybe a cashier at a cafe.” you shrugged.

The elevator dinged before you walked out of it.

. . . . .

The sight of many cars driving around the busy road met you after leaving the building contrary to the quite silent road this morning.

You sighed as you waited for the traffic lights to turn red, thinking back to your encounter with your guardian angel, you grit your teeth in annoyance, “What kind of guardian angel doesn’t protect his human..” you fumed and saw the traffic light go red.

You sighed and walk across the road, you turn to your side...

A huge truck was speeding towards you.

You blink twice as you felt your soul leaving your body, a tear drop fell in that moment as the oxygen inside your throat got stuck.

Just before impact of the truck,

“Jeongin..” you whispered, your “guardian angel’s” name rolling of your tongue when you closed your eyes.

You felt your legs getting scooped off the ground as a strong arm was holding you from the back.

. . .

You slowly flutter your eyes open and saw that handsome male earlier, “I- Put me down!!” you said squirming while on his arms.

“Sure? I mean, I just saved you but if you want to go then fine..” the angel said as he loosened his grip slightly.

“Wa-Wait! Don’t!.” you said as you clinged on to him for dear life, grasping the white shirt that he’s wearing.

He rolled his eyes and flew you back into your house, landing softly in his feet, placing you down. “Now, let’s talk about what I want.” he smirked.

“What?” you asked tilting your head to the side,

He clicked his tongue, “Like I said, when I help you, you’d do anything I want.” Jeongin said before moving closer and grabbing your chin.

“And I already know what I want~” he teased, eyeing your features.

You glare at him, “No- Nope no way, I don’t know what you want but I won’t do anything you say.” you said, clenching your fist which made him take a step back.

“Hmm? That’s okay but remember you’ll die..” He said in a frown, “This is your only chance, I won’t be there for you next time.” Jeongin said, a bit bored.

Your breath hitched at his statement, “H-How do you even know I’ll die?” you said raising your eyebrows in disbelief.

He hums, “Yeah no, I’m not telling you. But I don’t mind if you want to take the risk. I’ll just be watching from the distance.”

You placed your hand on your chin, thinking “What do you want anyways?” you asked and looked at him.

Jeongin smirked, “You. Your body.”

“I- And what are you gonna do w-with my body??” you said, scowling at the guardian angel.

“I think you already know what I’ll do.. I’ll play with it, mark it up and do anything I want with it.” Jeongin chuckled lightly before grinning.

“N-No.. I don’t want that..” you stuttered out,

“Well good luck and maybe I’ll see you in heaven~” he taunted as he walked away, waving a peace sign.

“F-Fine..” you mumbled.

The smirk on his face returned again, he turned to look at you “What was that~?”

“I d-don’t want to die yet..” you say in a feather-like and light tone.

“Mhmm.. Now our deal, do you accept? I’ll protect you in exhange that you let me do anything with your body.” he said lending his hand for you to shake, smiling a dimpled smile.

You sighed, hoping to not regret this when your hand shook his hand.

“Let’s start now then.” he said as he walked over to you, keeping his gaze on your body. You felt small under his predator-like gaze.

You looked away from him when his face is an inch close to your face—feeling shy, he grabbed your chin “Don’t look away from me prince.” he grinned.

A smile stayed on his handsome face as he led you inside your house, “I’ll give you a pleasurable time, prince~”

Jeongin then pinned you to the wall after entering the house, he connected both of your lips together. You stayed silent as he kissed you, not even kissing back.

He bit your bottom lip causing you to yelp and give in, you kissed back and made out with him on the wall. You placed your hand on his shoulder. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth exploring it a bit before pulling away for air.

You gasped for breath and drag you into your bedroom upstairs, closing the door.

Jeongin then reconnected your lips before both of you stumbled into your bed, his hands slipped underneath your shirt and to your nipples. He rubbed one of the buds before squeezed it, making you let out a small moan against his mouth.

He continued to play with your nipples until he pulls away, creating a string of saliva. He pulled off your shirt and smirked, “You look pretty, prince~” he leaned down to your right ear and whispered “I bet you’ll look prettier squirming and writhing underneath me as you moan out my name.” he then softly bit the lobe of your ear teasingly.

His hand wander down to your bulge as he gave it a harsh squeeze, “I wanna hear you moan out my name, prince.” You cried as he squeezed, your sensitivity increasing by the more he touches you.

“S-Shit, Jeongin, just fuck me already!”

Another harsh squeeze, “You’re not in control here, shut up and let me play with my human.” He said referring to you.

You grit your teeth as both pain and pleasure shot through your body and bit your lip to stay as silent as possible.

“Let out those sounds prince~” he said before unzipping your jeans and slipping his hand inside.

“You told me to shut up so that’s what I’m gonna do.” you taunted him, glaring at him.

He clicked his tongue, “I’m not gonna say it again, let. Out. Those. Sounds.” he said giving a harsh jerk to your cock with each word.

“N-Never..” you said squirming under him, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Guess I’ll go have to go rough on you prince, I wanted your first with me to be soft and sensual but your attitude right now is pissing me off.” he said before unbuttoning your pants, pulling it off.

You scowled at him, “F-Fuck you.”

“I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk.” he smirked as he opened the drawer and saw some conveniently placed lube there.

“Hmm, didn’t expect you to have some.. Do you finger yourself prince~?” He teased before spreading your legs.

You look away from him, flustered at fully being exposed to him. He hums, “Are you shy now? What happened to all that confidence earlier?”

You shut your mouth and kept silent.

“Answer me, prince.” he said slapping your thigh roughly.

You whimpered at shook your head, he growls and fully removes his shirt exposing his chest, he then unbuckled his pants—throwing it somewhere across the room.

He was left in his boxers with quite a visible bulge in the middle. “Good princes deserves to be prepped while the bad ones take what they get.” he glared down at you.

You bite your lips when he glared down at you, finding it a turn on. He then removes his boxers and grabbed the lube he placed down on the bed earlier.

He squirts some down on his fingers and smothered his cock with it, he smirked “A guardian angel has very high stamina as they are needed for levitation and flying.”

You fluster and look at him as he spreads your legs wider and lined up his tip against your hole—the tip prodding yojr entrance.

With a snap of his hips, he thrusted all the way in and pulled out before thrusting once again, giving no mercy on his thrusts. “J-Jeongin, wait- slow down a-a bit.” you said and moaned again.

He keeps his steady fast and rough pace, pounding into you like a ragdoll. The bed hitting the wall with every thrusts.

You moaned at his pace, your hands fly to his back, leaving claw marks at his shoulder and back.

“Mmm, so warm and tight.” He stated, finally hitting your prostate causing you to let out a loud cry.

“Je..ongin~ T-There!” You cried out as he smirked and snapped his hips into you harder and rougher, his thrusts hitting your prostate everytime.

“Gonna cum!” his eyes darkened and grabbed ahold of your cock causing you to whine, “Wh-What.. let go~!” you whined as you bucked your hips into his hands, he squeezed harsher making you whimper.

“You’re not gonna cum until I do prince and who knows when that is~ I’ll keep my word of fucking you until you can’t walk.” he teased, his thrusts not faltering.

You whined as your orgasm dissipated slowly, “P-Please.. I-I want to cum..”

“You’ll get to cum later prince~” he said rubbing circles on the side of your thighs.

Needless to say, you had a rough and wild night.

You fluttered your eyelids open and immediately, pain shot through your body—groaning. The hickeys visible on your chest, neck and thighs glamored in the sunlight.

You felt dried out cum still leaking out of your abused hole, you look to your side and noticed your guardian angel isn’t there.

“Good morning? Had a good sleep?” a voice chuckled out in your head. “Fuck you Jeongin.” you said out.

“Hmm? 4 rounds wasn’t enough? You want more?” he joked.

You groaned again at his playfulness, you tried to stand up but it resulted to you falling back down to your bed.

He appeared in your room with a flash of light with that devilish smirk from him, “Come on, let me help you up, my dear prince.”

“Dear prince my left foot, you weren’t endearing to me last night.” you said with an urge to hit him.

“You want to get help or not?” he said in a teasing tone, you rolled your eyes at him and extended your arm for him to reach.

He smiled an actual smile this time and held you up with your legs wobbling and your lower back with a sore pain.

“I still hate you.” you stated,

“Nuh-uh you like me.” you said hitting him in his chest.

“No.” you said bluntly.

He pouted and your eyes widened at that, who knew that beast from last night could make cute sounds?

“It doesn’t matter if you like me or hate me since I’ll protect you either way.” he said looking at you quite fondly.

You smiled at his statement, “Okay, maybe I like you a little, Mr. Angel.” you snorted at the last part.

“Mhmm~ Though just because of that our deal is not off, I’ll have to do what I did to you last night everytime I save you.” he smirked,

“Stupid horny angel.” you glared at him as he help you walk towards the bathroom, hitting him in the chest in the process.

He chuckled, “I’ll let you fall right here Y/N, don’t test me.”

You stuck your tongue out, looking at him.

He rolled his eyes, “You look cute like that prince, but what I think was the cutest was your screams, moans and how much you begged me to let you cum.”

“S-Shut up!!” you said, glaring at him again.

[goatpaste]

What do the first element holders look like in your au?

aH took me a hot minute to get around to this but i did it >:3

the first element wielders of equestria (technically before the founding of equestria) they were known as the elements of harmony, they first elements of harmony. but also some refer to the as ‘The First gifts’

i changed a little bit of some of their lore story

Princess Bluebelle, one of The First’s alicorn creations. Bluebelle is a kind being who had great patience and cared for all who patroned her house. She learned not just Unicorn magic but excelled in learning the biology of pegasus and earth pony magic and how to harness and further their growth as a society from helping the weather and nature and plant growth. 

Bluebelle was close with The First, often receiving visits from her. 

She also was the closest thing to a friend Equnity had (as Equnity didn’t like to make friends). 

Bluebelle was gifted Philomena by The First, the phoenix stayed by her side until the end and now lives on as Celestia’s companion. the bird that has lived since the beginning of time.

After The First no longer was around Bluebelle led the elements and took on being pseudo leader of the alicorns, often training and helping them figure out what to do with their powers and how to help out disputes within their house’s.

Bluebelle became teachers for many ponies over the centuries. She personally trained Starswirl the bearded and Gusty the great. 

She also helped guide and train Celestia and Luna alongside Starswirl. Starswirl was their main teacher but Bluebelle would step in to help from another alicorns perspective. The sisters adored Bluebelle. 

Her Elemental artifact is her wand, the first gift that was given to her by patreons that wasn’t money or food.

Butterscotch, the element of kindness. 

A pegasus who grew up in the clouds of a typical pegasus tribe who acted much to that of a military. Everyone was ready to fight and looked down on the land dwellers. Buttercotch was sweet to the bone and hated fighting and openly despised the way they let their society had become.  

Butterscotch was banished from the clouds, the other Pegasus claiming her to be too weak and that her soft spot for the land ponies would be her downfall.

Joining the other ponies on the ground she met Minty, a pegasus born on the ground. The two traveled together from then on.

Butterscotch and her companion would appear in neutral towns and spreed their word of friendship and ideals that the three races could and should work together for the better of the future. Butterscotch would make treats for the foals, play music and be the general life of the party.

Later on Butterscotch would return to the pegasus tribes, or meet with pegasus leaders on neutral ground and try many time to push for pegasus to integrate with ground pony society and vice versa. that staying in the clouds only held them back.

to simply put it, this was always met with a solid ‘not going to happen’. this put Butterscotch and Commander Hurricane at odds with one another a lot, causing many fights between the two. 

however private Pansy who worked under Hurricane couldn’t agree more with what Butterscotch said, her words growing Pansy’s animosity toward Hurricane. Pansy gave Butterscoth her scarf as a token of appreciation, for all the inspiration she brought her. That scarf became Butterscotch’s famous elemental artifact. 

Minty, one of very few pegasus born on the ground. Nearly all pegasus at this point in time had solely stuck to the sky, only coming down to diplomatic meetings, scouting territory, and fighting.

One of Minty’s parents was a pegasus who left the tribe of pegasus, unhappy with how their society had become. fell in love with an earth pony and the two had their only daughter Minty.

At a young age she met Clover the Clever, at the time was just Clover the unicorn that Minty met. Clover, a unicorn daughter of an important unicorn diplomat, traveling with her parent for important meetings in a town far away. Minty had simply wandered too far off collecting clovers and looking for a four leafed one. 

the two met and became friends for the short time they would know each other, gifting Minty her artifact of a pressed clover. It isnt long until their parents find them and get into a fight. the event left them both children traumatized as they had to face the reality of the world they lived in and the danger minty face when she stepped outside of her village.

minty grew into a scholarly teen, she still goofed off but she adored reading and writing and learning. she formed a knack for making speeches. She often would sneak off to taverns and inn that were marked as neutral zones to give long speeches or read her poetry, often time ruffling others feathers with the things she said. this came with the stress of her parents worried that bold words might have a pony turn to violence and harm her. 

none the less she braves on, leaving home when she is old enough, setting up wherever she can on her soap box and talking her heart out until she is run out. Later meeting Butterscotch and working together, then meeting The First who is touched by their want to connect and bring ponies together. 

Minty is named the element of laughter, and was able to reunite with Clover the Clever who now trained under starswirl the bearded.

Blossom, a mute earth pony who came from a large family who owned many acres of land full of lush greenery. fields of plants, trees of fruit and ect. Blossom lost one of her parents when she was a small baby and the other when she was older. 

She tends to all the lands by herself everyday. only making it because of her generosity. she allowed any pony to come to her land, they could eat what they needed, stay and rest as long as they wanted, all for free so long as they didn’t  start fights. this led to many ponies showing up and staying in the safety of her lands and to help pay her back many ponies would saddle up and tend to the fields along side her. 

Blossom felt she was never without family as she almost always had ponies by her side, eating dinner with her and helping her out. She was happy and everyone adored her, often referring to her as ‘aunt blossom’ or even nicknames calling her mom.

Not to mention that she didn’t put up with anyone shit, if anyone started fights on her land she sure as hell was the one to finish them and they would know not to come back on her land. and ponies lovED it, they loved knowing this older mare was able to totally kick ass.

Blossom met Cotton Candy when the filly was a young child, loving and chipper as any child could possibly be. Blossom adored her and acted as like a big sister/aunt/mother to cotton candy.

Blossom became the element of Generosity, the locket her parents left her as her artifact.

Cotton Candy, itty bitty pony. sweet and cute as can be. 

not much is known of her unlike the other. she is the youngest element wielder in the history of the elements. She was orphaned under unknown reasons (some speculate she may have been born an earth pony while having non earth pony parents, something very rare but possible) 

She met The First very young, like a 7 year old wandering around on a trail down the country road. The First took the young pony with her, knowing just what to do with her. Bringing her to Blossom’s orchard, a safe haven for ponies with land to run through, food to eat and a roof over her head.

Blossom and Cotton Candy took to each other immediately, like to to their sides Cotton Candy stayed with Blossom for years and despite her side beginning expresses being grateful that it brought her to Blossom. 

Cotton Candy has some eating problems and the only time you will find her not within a 10 foot radius of Blossom is if she found some nice flowers to snack on.

Cotton Candy became the element of Loyalty and was the first pony to officially write down information about the elements of harmony, even watched the first transfer of its power from them the original wielders to a new generation.  all of this done at the end of her life. 

Snuzzle, a GIANt beautiful pony. 

Sweet, kind, and polite. everyone she grew up around loved her. she had a very typical up bringing as an earth pony, helping out how she could as she was born blind. she worked to develop the first form of braille in equestria as a way for her to make and have notes for her within her own community. 

She didn’t consider herself someone who disliked the pegasus and unicorns but didn’t quite seem to grow up with an opinion on their separation of the fighting that happened. she was the type to say ‘its just how the world is’. Not changing or understanding the impact of the things happening in the land around her, until The First arrived. She traveled with two pegasus, Minty and Butterscotch who showed great kindness to the earth ponies who only acted boorish and impolite to the pegasi. listening to what they had to say and seeing how her own family and friend treated them was a wake up call.

Snuzzle chose to leave her village behind and travel with The First, she wanted to learn all she could by the wise Alicorns side. 

She spent years at her side learning so many, traveling far and wide and meeting so many ponies. she became a better person and loved the friends she made through her long years. 

Snuzzel was there when Equnity corrupted and became darkness, she was one of the few who noticed something was wrong with the foal. Poking around and finding out that Equnity was unhappy and messing in dark messy magic. Snuzzel was at the site when Equnity changed, and she was there when The First made the decision to make herself the elements, trusting that she could bring the ponies together and make a better world. 

Snuzzle misses The First and struggled to find her place in the world once again. 

she made her home the now abandoned house of seasons. she built her home and family here which would later be the mark of where ponyville layed. 

snuzzel would be visited by her friends and fellow element wielders and even by the young sisters of celestia and luna who would later make their first castle here. 

[veenussposts]

Mingi as a demigod (and your boyfriend)

Mingi was always a lazy person who found it difficult to be punctual and maintain an orderly lifestyle. However, he always did things well even if he had no idea what he was doing.

And things didn't change when he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, after trying to be killed by a minotaur as he walked back home.

After being claimed by his father, the God of war, Mingi continued with his same attitude as always and, unintentionally, quickly climbed into the hierarchy of his cabin. He was just good at fighting, he was honestly the best, even though he never had any training in the art of war.

He only had fun with Apollo's sons and daughters and yet no one was able to beat him in a battle. The laurel crown was his over a year ago and no one could take it away from him.

But everything changed when you arrived.

"Who is he?" Mingi asked one of his sisters who was observing all the commotion that was forming in the camp due to the arrival of a squad commanded by you.

"He is a roman demigod, one of the leaders of Camp Jupiter, the only child of Bellona the goddess of war, destruction and devastation"

"Uff, it's a very long and intimidating name for a boy. I bet he's not that good"

With determined and somewhat haughty steps, Mingi came towards you with his chin up to ask you to a duel. The warriors under your command looked at each others scared when they heard Mingi challenging you. What did you do? You laughed at him and then completely ignored him.

Or at least that's what Mingi believed because even though it didn't seem like it, you really paid attention to him. At a glance you realized that, after being rejected, that son of Ares made vibrate some swords while walking back to his cabin.

You had a slight suspicion of why that happened but there was only one way to check it.

It was a normal day after a chat with the director of the Greek camp, you were on the banks of the great lake meditating when you felt a familiar sensation in your stomach. Someone was watching you. With a single movement, you unsheathed your sword and threw it towards where your instincts told you.

"If this were a real fight you would already be dead" Your sword was pointed at his forehead as it floated in midair. With a single wave of your hand, your sword turned towards you and came back to its place.

"What... Ho-how did you do that? You... how did you manage to stop it before... and..."

"I didn't stop it, you did" Mingi's eyes widened, looking at you in surprise. "The weapons obey you, they will do whatever you tell them to do. You can even fight with them even if you don't have them in your hands"

"But my brothers cannot do that"

"That is because only a few are blessed with the gifts of their parents. Some children of Apollo can heal, others cannot. They are gifts that have to be used and I am willing to help you, son of Ares, even if it goes against my principles as a descendant of a Roman Goddess "

And that was how Mingi, dumbfounded by the way your tan skin shone in the sun's rays, agreed to train with you.

Things were going well, too well. Mingi was more powerful than you imagined and could follow your strict training without problems.

As the days passed, your stomach felt strange sensations and it wasn't your sixth sense. It was something else.

"Am I in love with a Greek demigod? Oh my Jupiter"

On the other hand, Mingi was totally in love with you. Every cell in his body went into ecstasy every morning when he saw you, he seemed to be flying through the clouds every time he saw you smile and the mere fact of listening to your compliments when he did something right blushed his cheeks.

"He is very cute"

"I think you are the only person in the world who thinks that he is cute. Brother, every time I look at him I feel like a deer being analyzed by its predator. He's scary"

"Yeah, that's one of his many charms. Ahh, he's magnificent"

Your swords collided, they withdrew and returned to find ways to outdo each other and catch up with their opponent. A slight whistle accompanied the movement of both, indicating the speed of your movements and your location.

"I'm sorry to inform you that this fight will be won by me" Mingi said as his eyes closely followed you.

"Don't sing victory yet, redhead"

Your swords collided again and both of you continued to dance across the training ground in a fight that never seemed likely to end because neither was ready to lose.

You, who at the time were leading the initiative, attacked while Mingi defended himself. He leaped back, accurately moved his hand, and one of his two swords, which he had previously lost in a counterattack against you, shot out at top speed. You barely had enough time to turn around and dodge the attack, consequently your opponent's weapon cut a piece of your purple cloak that was part of your armor.

"Well if this was a real fight you would already be dead" The cold metal of his weapon was leaning against your neck while a silly little smile was drawn on his lips as you stood up slowly. "Can I sing victory now?"

"I don't think so" The smile on his face faded when he saw out of the corner of his eye your great sword, pointed at him in midair. "I think you are dead"

"Yeah, but dead of love for you"

Your eyes widened like saucers and Mingi's hand that didn't hold the sword opened, letting it drop to the ground. His cheeks started to turn deep red like his hair as he tried to look anywhere but you.

Hell, he had screwed up. Surely you were going to reject him, surely you would laugh at...

"In that case... I guess I'm dead too" Before Mingi could understand your answer, your strong arms were around his waist, drawing him towards you. You were so close that you could smell the sweet scent of his cologne, your noses were rubbing against each other and your lips were only a few millimeters apart. "I... I also like you, too much for my liking but I couldn't help it"

Mingi leaned his head forward and kissed you, softly at first, and then with immense passion causing you to cling to him as if there was no tomorrow. His lips were caressing your trembling lips, sending shocks of electricity along your back, causing emotions that you had never thought you were capable of feeling.

Mingi almost went crazy when you confessed with a blush on your cheeks that he was your first boyfriend. For that reason, you weren't quite sure how to act in certain situations.

Despite being stoic, strict and not very good with words, Mingi knew that you loved him because your actions showed it. For example: the time you were training and it started to rain, without thinking twice you took off your cape to cover Mingi so he wouldn't catch a cold.

HE LOVES PLAYING WITH YOUR LONG HAIR. He could be brushing, stroking, or just playing with it all day.

"Just relax, I'll wash your hair for you"

He is capable of sending a sword flying to anyone who dares to speak ill of you.

"I'd fight the whole world for you and I don't care how cheesy that sounds"

Mingi says and does things on purpose to embarrass you for his own amusement such as calling you by cute nicknames in front of your legion or dancing while he was wearing your golden armor.

You haven't tell the others about your relationship but all the demigods in both camps know that your are a couple.

Gets giggle because of your existence and blushes when you kiss him.

The biggest cuddle bear ever.

When you had to leave Camp Half-Blood to return to Camp Jupiter Mingi did his best to keep you from leaving but, unfortunately, it was your duty and you had to leave. The first night without you he cried because he missed you.

Now, Mingi is only in Camp Half-Blood the summers, the rest of the days he lives in Camp Jupiter with you.

He sleeps on your chest because he says your skin is very soft and warm, he feels calm and protected in your arms.

"You're ridiculously comfortable"

His cellphone password is the date of your birthday and as a wallpaper he has a photo of you smiling after the daughters of Venus combed your hair in a large braid decorated with flowers.

Every summer at Camp Half-Blood, Mingi tells the new demigods how magnificent his boyfriend is, telling them that he is the most powerful person ever born, that perhaps you were the reincarnation of a hero like Hercules. Sometimes just to bother you, he tells you to go to the camp to sign autographs because everyone admires you but not as much as he does.

Worries about your safety 24/7.

"Zeus, I was very worried"

"It was just a reconnaissance mission, baby. There's nothing to worry about"

You never fight, you have a healthy and prosperous relationship, but sometimes when you have had a stressful day you ignore each other unintentionally.

In conclusion, just being with Mingi makes you happy. That redhead, son of Ares, has completely changed your life in a wonderful, magnificent and extraordinary way.

[evabellasworld]

Storm of the Republic

Chapter 29

AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29

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Summary:  When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.

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Putting on her surgical mask, Dr. Urakchaevy took a deep breath as she glanced at the surgical tube, before shifting her focus towards Tup. With his head covered in plastic foil and his eyes shut, the doctor slid him inside the machine and looked at the panels. “We’re now beginning level 1 brain scan,” she announced to Fives, who was the only one in the room. “This will only take a short while.”

As Fives gave a nod of approval, the machine scanned his brain for 30 minutes. The ARC Trooper tapped his foot on the floor as the doctor focused on his brain condition. From what she had gathered so far, his brain scan was blue, showing that he was slipping towards his deathbed.

This is not good , her teeth chattered. Somehow, I couldn’t find any lumps in his brain, and yet, Tup is unconscious. How is this possible?

“Is everything alright, Doc?” Fives wondered, noticing her hands trembling on the panels.

Dr. Urakchaevy nodded, pressing her lips. “I’ll have to raise the brain scan to level 2. There’s nothing I could find on the surface of his brain.”

“Alright, Doc, you can raise it up to level two,” he gave a thumbs up. “I hope he’s alright.”

Let’s hope he does, she let out a sigh, as she performed another brain scan on Tup, hoping to dig deeper. Another half an hour has passed, and Dr. Urakchaevy felt her sweat dripping from her forehead, despite the air-conditioning in the room.

Considering Tup was the first clone she had treated, she wasn’t knowledgeable in their biology. The only thing she knows about clone troopers was the fact that they fought for the Republic, even though it had been crumbled by the Empire. She doesn’t see the point of the conflict, but Dr. Urakchaevy has to perform her duty to save her patients.

As the machine beeped, the doctor checked on her panel with a gleam painted on her lips, only for her shoulders to slump towards the results. Is this machine broken or what? Do I need to re-scan just to make sure I find something inside Tup?

“Did you find anything, Doc?” his voice turned agitated. “Please tell me you found something, Doc.”

Dr. Urakchaevy remained silent as she stared at the surgical pod, wondering if she could raise the level of the machine. She knows the risk, and she’s not sure whether she would like the result. The worst-case scenario she could think of was the side effects of the radiation, which was nausea, fever, and vomiting. But it was the only way if she wanted a fast result.

“It’s still the same result as the first scan, unfortunately,” she reported, turning towards him. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to perform a Level 5 atomic scan.”

“What’s wrong with that?” asked Fives, raising his eyebrows. “Is it dangerous?”

“It’s full of radiation and Tup might experience side effects, but it’s the only way I could find a lump inside his brain, though the chances are rather small. Are you okay with that, Fives?”

Fives tilted his head upwards as he pondered for a moment. I can’t just refuse his surgery and let him die. I’ll never forgive myself if I made the wrong decision.

“If the Level 5 atomic scan means saving my brother, then you need to do it,” he told her. “I came here to save Tup, and I’m gonna bring him back to base, safe and sound, so do what you have to, Doc. Go with the Level 5 atomic scan if you must.”

Dr. Urakchaevy gave him a small smile. “You’re a caring brother, Fives. Now go wait outside with your sister, Yara. I’m sure Thonda is done patching her up by now.”

“Will Tup be okay, Doc?” his voice quivered. “I don’t want to lose him, really.”

“He’ll be alright,” assured Dr. Urakchaevy, holding his hand. “I promise you. He’ll walk out of this room and act as if nothing had happened to him. He’ll drink with you and Yara and go back to his usual self.”

“In case he doesn’t make it, can I say my last words to him?”

“Fives, Tup will be fine,” she said, opening the door for him. “Besides, this will only take a few minutes, so don’t worry. I have faith in your younger brother.”

Without saying a word, Fives stepped out of the surgical room and held his breath when he found Yara sitting all by herself, munching a plate full of chocolate chip cookies. Cracking a smile, he tiptoed towards her and slapped his arms on her shoulders, making her choke on her food.

“Bitch, I told you not to sneak up to me like that,” she cussed with her mouth full, kicking his shin. “I could have died of a heart attack, you know.”

“Well, it was funny,” he burst into laughter, as he sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her shoulder. “You could have seen the look on your face. It was so ugly.”

“Shut up, Fives. At least I’m more good-looking than you.”

“Says who? Everyone knows I’m the most handsome man among the Grand Army of the Republic.”

Yara sticks her tongue out in disgust. “Yuck, you’re ugly as fuck.”

“No, you’re ugly.”

“No, you’re ugly.”

“Fuck you, Fives,” Yara shoved his shoulders, her other hand gripping on the plate of cookies. “I hate you so much.”

“Well, fuck you too, Yara,” Fives imitated her voice, as he snatched away her cookies from her grasp. “Also, you ate too much of these. Save some for me, will you?”

She crossed her arms, her lips pouting. “Give me back my cookies, dickhead. They’re mine.”

He shook his head, stuffing one in his mouth. “Hey, sharing is caring, okay? Besides, it’s been a while since I had authentic food, anyway.”

“Tell me about it. I miss drinking margaritas from 79’s. It was the best drink I could ever have, you know. I wonder what’s their secret?”

“Maybe they made it with love,” Fives jokes, leaning on his seat. “Also, the music was glorious at the club. I always enjoyed the songs that the DJ played on the dance floor, especially the song Groovy. That was my all-time favourite song.”

“But somehow, someone always bested you on the dance floor,” Yara snarked. “And that someone is sitting right next to you. Guess who it is?”

He rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Yara. I beat you one time and you were sulking the next day.”

“Yeah, exactly. You only beat me one time, Fives. The rest of the time we spent at 79’s, I always held a record on the dance floor, aside from Lisa, of course.”

“God, I miss those days. Everything was simple back then. Now, it feels like we’re stressing our future like a bunch of old men waiting for death.”

“I know, Fives. I miss the days when the only reason I cried was because I failed the simulation. Now, I cry because everyone we know was killed in front of us, and we don’t even know whether we’re next in line.”

“And I miss the day where the only reason we’re happy was because we passed the simulation. Now, I can only be happy because I lived to fight another day, though I wished I could join the rest of our fallen siblings instead.”

Yara hummed to herself. “I know, Fives. Honestly, when this war is over, I just want to walk away from all of this. I want to settle down somewhere and find someone to love, like Commander Fox. He and Riyo are so happy together and I want to be like them.”

“So, you’re looking for someone like those male leads from your favourite rom-com?” smiled Fives. “And how many kids are you planning to have?”

“First of all, I want a guy who is kind and sweet and secondly, I want at least four kids, doesn’t matter what gender they are.”

“Four kids? Well, that’s a lot, to be honest.” “I want to shower all my love on my kids and accept them for who they are, no matter what,” Yara expressed her hopes and dreams. “And I also want them to have a better life than I did. Since I fought in a war, I want my kids to live a peaceful life, without worrying about a single thing.”

“Sounds like a pleasant life,” Fives said, placing an empty plate beside him. “Honestly, I would like to have that kind of life, too. If only I could find someone like that.”

Before Yara could say something, Dr. Urakchaevy walked out of the surgical room with tears of shame in her eyes. Fives stood up from his seat, waiting for her to speak. “So, did the surgery went well?”

She bobbed her head with hesitation, her fingers fidgeting. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

“We would like to hear the good news,” Fives replied with his brows furrowed.

“Okay then, the good news is that the surgery went well, and we found a tumour inside his brain,” she informed him, showing the evidence she extracted. “I’m not sure what kind of tumour it is, but I can do my research on it.”

“That’s great to hear, Doc,” Yara beamed. “But then, what’s the bad news?”

“Tup didn’t make it,” Dr. Urakchaevy broke the news to them. “I’m so sorry, guys. I did everything I could to save him, but somehow, his heart rate stopped.”

Fives’ face contorted as he dropped to his knees, frozen. Yara could not utter a single word from her mouth as tears flowed on her cheeks, hugging her knees.

How are we going to face Rex after this?

[perfeggso]

Noir (yutae) 

Week IV pt. 1

Tokyo – fall of 1983: Nakamoto Yuta is quickly rising in the ranks of one of Japan’s most notorious yakuza families, and he’s poised to climb even further if he can stop himself from being ruined by the pretty Korean boy who’s shown up out of nowhere.

Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Chapter 3  |  Chapter 4  |  Chapter 5  |  Chapter 6  |  Chapter 7  |  Chapter 8  |  Masterlist

Glossary of Japanese words

Characters: Yuta x Taeyong + NCT ensemble, Twice J-line (for funsies)

Genres: Gang!AU, angst, smut, fluff, 1980s!AU

Warnings: graphic violence, swearing, minor character death, alcohol use, mentions of drugs, period-typical homophobia, xenophobia, BDSM

Rating: 18+

Length: 7k

“Okay,” said Yuta, “this is the last time I’ll ask – I promise.  You’re sure I didn’t scare you last night?”

Taeyong sat in the passenger side of Yuta’s car, waiting in the pick-up area at Narita International Airport the morning after their first night together, listening to "4:00AM" by Taeko Onuki.  He rolled his eyes.  

“Yuta,” he began, “if I was going to be scared of you – which I am not, by the way – it wouldn’t be because you startled me when you yelled in the middle of the night, I can tell you that much.”

The night before, Taeyong had fallen asleep in Yuta’s arms; tired, sated, and oh so happy.  His little bundle of positivity only unwound when he was shaken rudely awake in the early hours of the morning by Yuta screaming.  It didn’t last for long, partially because Taeyong had used all the wits he could gather to coo over Yuta, calming him down and easing his tension, but it had been disturbing, nonetheless.  When Taeyong felt like he’d waited a sufficiently long time for Yuta to regain his bearings, he’d ventured to ask what was the matter.  All Yuta could put into words was that he’d had a bad dream, and that for as long as he could remember, his bad dreams could sometimes get horrifying or tangible enough to make him react quite violently in the real world, and he was sorry.  Taeyong didn’t press him on what that particular dream was about, but it must have been quite upsetting.  Who knew what kinds of things Yuta had seen in his life for his unconscious brain to draw upon?  Anyway, the next morning Yuta couldn’t stop the incident from preoccupying him, apparently very worried that it would somehow make him less desirable or something.  Taeyong was having none of it.

Yuta sighed as he sank farther into the driver’s seat, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.  Taeyong felt a little pang of guilt that he might have insinuated that maybe he should fear Yuta for other, non-nightmare-related reasons.  But like he said, he didn’t.  He didn’t fear Yuta even though he’d watched him kill another man with his own eyes.  Yuta was too sweet and odd, too predictably human, and made him feel too good to scare him.  

“Okay, good.  It just happens sometimes.  Haven’t figured out how to control it yet,” Yuta said.  He switched the topic. “How’s your ass, by the way?” Taeyong smiled to himself.

“It’s fine, but you did bruise me a tiny bit.”

Now it was Yuta smiling.  “Sorry.”  He didn’t seem very sorry, though.  “Don’t Change” by INXS started to play over the radio.  

“I don’t care,” Taeyong admitted.  “I like a little reminder of who made me feel like this.”  

“Good,” said Yuta.  “Next time I’ll mark you up deliberately.”

Taeyong’s breath caught in his throat.  Should they even be talking about this on the job?  Wasn’t Yuta worried about being distracted?   Still, he filed Yuta’s promise away in his mind so he could hold him to his word.

“You wanted tattoos, anyway,” Yuta teased.  “I can give you the low commitment version.”

“You’re kinda corny sometimes, you know?” Taeyong said, causing Yuta to splutter laughter.  

“Yeah,” he confessed, “I know.”  He turned to regard Taeyong with a smile.

Taeyong hadn’t brought anything with him last night to change into for the next day, so (with permission!) he’d raided Yuta’s closet.  Taeyong wouldn’t have minded wearing his clothes from the night before – they weren’t particularly slutty and no one he’d be seeing today had seen him in them the previous night – but they still smelled pretty bad from all the sweat and spilled alcohol lodged in their threads.  Instead, Taeyong got to smell like Yuta.  

He wore a Bauhaus t-shirt, black jeans, and a gray blazer with a little gold pin with the Inagawa-kai logo on it attached to the lapel.  Yuta wore the same one on his black, patent-leather peacoat.  He had paired that with black aviator sunglasses for a truly eye-catching combination.  Taeyong thought it was funny that Yuta seemed incapable of not dressing like a mobster.  

Before Yuta could say whatever he was about to, a blue BMW pulled up right next to them and rolled down the window, revealing Taeil in the driver’s seat and Mark by his side.  Taeil was yelling something Taeyong couldn’t hear over the sound of departing airplanes, and apparently Yuta couldn’t understand it either because he yelled back for Taeil to repeat himself.  

“What?” Taeil asked instead.

“He’s wondering if you’ve gotten any updates!”  Mark repeated.

“No!” Yuta responded.  “And why are you double-parking me?  Just pull up a little!”

Taeil obliged and parked in front of Yuta and Taeyong, getting out once he’d cut the engine and walking to Yuta’s window.  Yuta turned off the radio.  

“Why do you need an update?” he asked.

Taeil rested his hands on the car door.  “Because,” he explained, “Mark was hanging around headquarters and really wanted to come even though I kept telling him that if they brought more than one extra person with them I would not hesitate to leave him at the airport.”

“Why didn’t you just say no?” Yuta inquired.  

“Because I thought he’d tell you I said no and then you’d be annoyed.”

Taeyong sat there as this whole interaction played out, watching Mark watch them from Taeil’s car.  It seemed like Mark got a lot of preferential treatment.  Not that Taeyong could talk.  

“Alright,” said Yuta.  “It’s not a problem.  I don’t have any reason to believe there will be more people with Kun than he said.”

Taeil clapped his hands over the car door a couple of times.  “Okay, just checking.  Shategashira ?”

“Yeah?”

“ Would you have been annoyed with me?”

Yuta pondered the question for a minute, eyes dancing around the cabin of his car.  “Probably,” he eventually admitted, smiling and looking at Taeil out of the corner of his eye.

“Knew it!”

Part of Taeyong wanted to know what Yuta’s deal was with Mark, scared the curiosity might be coming from a place of burgeoning jealousy.  Taeyong was over the moon about his relationship with Yuta, but sometimes he cursed his own decision making.  His infatuations always stressed him out terribly, and his situation was already stressful enough.  

He watched as a group of well-dressed men exited the door Kun and his people were supposed to be emerging from.  Yuta and Taeil were still talking – something to do with their meeting preparations, no doubt – and hadn’t seemed to notice the new arrivals in the pickup area.  

“Is that them?” Taeyong asked.

Yuta and Taeil both snapped their heads in the direction Taeyong was pointing.  Yuta blinked.  

“Yeah,” he confirmed.  “It is.”

“How many were there supposed to be?” Taeyong asked as a follow-up.

“Seven,” Taeil answered this time.  “They brought two extras with them.  Fuck.”

“Looks like someone’s going in the trunk,” Yuta joked.  

Taeyong and Yuta got out of the car, walking over to the Triads with Taeil and Mark, who’d finally stepped out onto the curb.  Taeyong thought he caught Mark giving him a once-over, perhaps registering the presence of Yuta’s clothing on his body.  

“I thought I told you to stay at your post,” Yuta scolded.  

Mark shrugged.  “I thought this was a special occasion.”

The Triads were more inconspicuous than the Inagawa-kai usually were, their tall builds and dark clothing lending them all an appearance more akin to a celebrity and his bodyguards (although who the celebrity was could be up to interpretation) than to a group of criminals.  

Kun, or at least the man Taeyong assumed was Kun, stood at the front of a near perfect triangle of his men, a relaxed confidence defining his features.  

Kun and Yuta acknowledged each other with a bow.  

“ Shategashira , good to see you,” Kun greeted.

“ Fu Shan Chu , the honor’s all mine.”

Taeyong didn’t know what Kun’s title meant, but he had a feeling Yuta wasn’t pronouncing it very well.  Not that he could have done any better.  As Taeil and Mark quickly extended their own greetings, Taeyong prayed a silent ‘thank you’ that the Triads all spoke Japanese; he didn’t need to be any more confused than he already was basically nonstop.  Although after a moment of thought, he realized this made perfect sense considering these men had been hand-picked to attend an important business meeting (if you could call it a “business meeting”) in Japan.    

“Taeyong,” Yuta began, the indulgent tone Taeyong had grown more and more used to him using when they were together overtaking his voice, “I want you to meet some dear friends.”  

Kun introduced himself first as a Deputy, second in command of his syndicate and in charge of international business; then came Sicheng, a skilled tracker and fighter despite his lithe build; followed by Ten, the Hong Kong liaison for the group’s Thai offshoot who explained by way of introduction that, since no one could ever pronounce his real name, he went by ‘Ten’ for the number of people he’d personally “interrogated” by the time he decided he needed a nickname (“but now I’ve lost count”).  The three of them were followed by Yukhei, a tall Hong Kong native and self-described yes-man for Ten; Dejun, who kept his introduction succinct but fixed an almost manic positive energy on Taeyong the whole time he spoke; Kunhang, the “Macanese Snoop,” whatever that meant; and Yangyang who once worked for the Taiwanese Triads and was in charge of smuggling since he used to do it between West and East Germany for some reason Taeyong didn’t quite catch.  The seven men were able to pack so much information into their introductions because they kept jumping in on each other’s sentences, adding information they deemed pertinent about their friends seemingly as a way of hyping one another up.

Once the seven men in front finished, Yuta peaked exaggeratedly to the back of the group to address the stragglers.  

“And you two, it seems to me, are none other than Zhong Chenle and Huang Renjun, all grown up now, hm?”  The pair smiled mischievously at each other.  They wore almost schoolboy-like suits that looked a little too expensive to be trusted in the hands of a late teen or early twenty-something, as they appeared to be.

“Hello Yuta-san,” they each chimed, a bit out of synch.

“I can tell that you’ve aged too, Shategashira,” quipped the shorter of the two.  The taller joined in.

“Yeah, please make sure you’re getting enough sleep, sir.”  Chenle and Renjun tittered as the Triads rolled their eyes and Kun shot them an absolutely lethal glare.  

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Mark jested from over Taeyong’s left shoulder.  “You’re on Yuta’s turf now and I can promise from experience you don’t want to see him pissed.  Can’t run to your daddies here.”

Now it was Chenle rolling his eyes.  “Shut the fuck up, Mark,” he said, and Mark cackled in amusement.

“Thank you, Mark,” Taeil interjected, a cautious impatience practically dripping from his voice.  “I think our Shategashira can defend himself.”

“Great!” said Yuta, trying to regain control of the interaction.  Taeyong was starting to get nervous because they were all still standing out in the open outside one of Narita’s many exits, and it wouldn’t have taken that much imagination on the part of an onlooker to identify them as a group of gangsters.  Yuta didn’t seem nervous though, so Taeyong pushed his anxiety as far down as he could until it was nearly imperceptible.  Yuta leaned closer to him a bit as he aimed to guide Taeyong through their ongoing introductions.  

“Those two meiwaku are the sons of Triad commanders.  They’re completely spoiled, as you can see.”  Taeyong almost giggled, amused by the amount of time Yuta seemed to spend getting bullied by people who were barely out of high school.  Yuta continued.  “So that’s everyone,” he concluded, pulling away from Taeyong.            

“I’m humbled to meet you all,” Taeyong said, brain overloaded for the hundredth time in a month by all the new faces and by Yuta’s proximity.  

Yuta brushed his finger over Taeyong’s sleeve.  It was a small movement and he doubted anyone else saw, but Taeyong had to suppress the heat threatening to overtake his face.  Yuta never got into the personal space of his subordinates while conducting business, but then again, Taeyong was an exception in more ways than one.  He couldn’t decide if he was more irritated by Yuta messing with him or by his own oversensitivity.  

“You don’t have to use kenjougo with them,” Yuta joked. “Polite language will do.  They’re all younger than you, anyway.”

Taeyong balked.  He knew that Chenle and Renjun were young, but his tone hadn’t been meant for them.  And he thought Yuta was a prodigy...  

“You want to introduce yourself, Taeyong?” Yuta suggested.  

“Oh, right!  Hello, my name is Lee Taeyong and I’m sort of a member-in-training, I suppose.  I’m helping Yuta prepare for your upcoming meeting.”  Taeyong bowed, having rushed through his introduction, and he was glad no one could see his downcast eyes go wide when he felt Yuta’s palm just above the small of his back, guiding him upright.  Could he not?

“Taeyong’s been a great asset to us lately,” said Yuta, and Taeyong thought he detected the tiniest hint of teasing in his words.  “I trust you’ll all come to appreciate him as we have.”  

Taeyong heard Taeil sigh from behind him.  “We should be going,” he stated, “but I regret to inform you that one of the pipsqueaks is going to need to improvise in terms of seating on the way into the city.  We were expecting fewer people.”  

Kun smiled wryly.  “Maybe I should have hired a professional driver,” he joked and Taeil stiffened in irritation.  “But no,” he continued, “I understand.  These two insisted last minute on a vacation to Tokyo and their fathers didn’t listen to my concerns about bringing them, so here we are.  We’ll figure it out.”  

“Shall we?” asked Yuta, turning on his heel towards the parked cars, and Kun made a hand motion that signaled for all the Triads to follow.  

“You know,” said Taeil, as he watched Mark drop back in formation to share more personal greetings with some of his Triad buddies, “we could just put Mark in the trunk, and this wouldn’t be an issue.  He did insist on joining after all.”

Mark turned his attention from Yukhei to Taeil and scowled.  “If you do that, I’ll yell so loud you get pulled over and then I’ll say I’m being kidnapped by the yakuza,” he warned.  

Ten sidled up to Mark and regarded him casually, a smirk forming on his face.  “Uh-huh,” he said, “and what do you think the cops will make of that Irezumi on your wrist?”

“Shut up,” said Mark, seeming to resign himself to an uncomfortable ride back.

Taeyong and Yuta returned to their car, trailed by Ten, Kun, and a skittish Renjun who held a finger to his lips as he slipped into the middle seat in back.  Taeyong paused in front of the vehicle for a moment, next to the passenger side door.  He was fairly certain he wasn’t supposed to sit shotgun, considering he had the lowest rank of the five of them save Renjun.  He looked at Yuta questioningly, expecting a word or gesture directing him to the back seats.  Instead, Yuta nodded for Taeyong to enter where he was, so Taeyong opened the door and sat in front, trying to be small and invisible by moving as little as possible.  Kun and Ten didn’t seem to question it.  

“Thank you for choosing Inagawa chauffeur service,” Yuta said jokingly once everyone was inside.  It took a moment to get going because Mark was trying to force Chenle into the trunk of Taeil’s car and Chenle responded by flailing and emitting a screech so high in pitch that Taeyong worried it might shatter all the windows of both cars.  

“You’re a smart boy, Renjun,” Kun stated, “choosing to come in this car.”

“Yeah,” Ten chimed, “what would you have done if we tried to force you into the trunk?”

Renjun smirked.  “I have a pocket knife on me and I’m not afraid to use it…” he explained in response, making everyone laugh.  In front of them, Mark pouted as the trunk door finally closed over him.  Taeyong caught a smile on Yuta’s face out of his peripheral vision as both car engines started.  

***

Taeyong had only been to the “training room” at headquarters a couple of times before.  The first time had been when Doyoung decided to nab him and teach him knife throwing, and the second was when Jaehyun asked him to hold arm pads for him to punch.  The space was painted yellow from floor to ceiling and had harsh lighting and mold growing like shadows in the corners.  One section had weights, mats, and boxing equipment set up next to a mirror; one, some knives and targets; and one, a table and small sitting area.

The Triads had only been in town a few hours and already, they seemed to be getting quite comfortable.  When Taeyong had a moment of free time, Ten and a few others grabbed him without explanation and dragged him off to go “have some fun and get to know each other.”  Apparently, that meant subjecting him to public mortification.  

Sicheng had his arms wrapped around Taeyong’s midsection, bending him over and essentially   demobilizing him.  Taeyong breathed heavily, unable to do anything but struggle and watch the speckled floor under him shift along with his jerky movements.  

“Sicheng, maybe go easy on him?” he heard Kunhang suggest from the table area, where some of the Triads were sat watching.

“I thought Inagawa was tougher than this,” Yangyang heckled, and Taeyong felt hot shame pile on top of his bodily discomfort.  

Dejun piped up next.  “He’s new, Yangyang, give him a break.”

Taeyong wanted to respond, but he was too busy trying to defend himself physically to do it verbally.  Sicheng brought his knee up into Taeyong’s stomach, just hard enough to startle him without hurting him too badly.  He used Taeyong’s disorientation to trip him, and next thing he knew, Taeyong was sore and heaving with his ass on the padded floor.  

“Or don’t go easy on him,” Kunhang remarked.  “Either way.”

Taeyong looked to his audience.  Dejun, Kunhang, and Yangyang were all sitting around the table in the corner, a neglected game of poker which had started as a way of blowing off some competitive steam after “training” laid out between them.  Ten stood a bit off to the side, arms crossed and gaze sharp with scrutiny.  He took a couple of strides towards Taeyong and Sicheng, a smirk overtaking his mouth as he looked down at Taeyong like he was prey.  Taeyong had met plenty of scary people in his life, and the frequency of such encounters had only increased since he started hanging around the yakuza, but Ten, with his wicked expressiveness and black leather suit in this moment gave Taeyong a chill of pure terror.  

He noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see it was Sicheng reaching his hand out to help Taeyong up.  He smiled, face inviting and a welcome contrast to Ten’s entire aura.  Taeyong took his hand and let Sicheng pull him to his feet.

“I thought you were supposed to be Yuta’s bodyguard,” Ten said plainly.  

“Well, not exactly,” Taeyong tried to explain.  “I just follow him around and keep a lookout for trouble; anything suspicious.”

Ten narrowed his eyes in a way Taeyong felt had to be partly for show.  “That’s all, huh? Doesn’t sound like much.”  Ten looked Taeyong head to toe and hummed thoughtfully.  “Could there be another reason Yuta keeps you around?”

Jesus Christ, did everyone know?   The room felt suddenly cold as Taeyong’s body came down from his previous exertion.  He tried to suppress a shiver as his brain rushed to come up with a response.  Thankfully, Sicheng stepped in.

“He knows how to fight, Ten, he’s just used to fighting brainless brutes.”

Taeyong nodded, hurrying to redeem himself. “Sicheng’s right,” he confirmed.  “M’sorry.”

Ten let out a laugh through his nose.  “No need to grovel,” he said, smile growing slightly less intimidating.  He pushed a finger playfully into Taeyong’s shoulder, sending Taeyong’s mind reeling.  “Anyway, I heard you saved Yuta from an assassin, so I’m in your corner.  I’m just taking it upon myself to help you improve and make yourself even more useful.”

Taeyong laughed in confusion, spitting out a sarcastic, “gee, thanks.”

Dejun expelled a sound of wounded disappointment from behind Ten, certainly brought about by the poker game.  Kunhang and Yangyang snickered.  Ten ignored them all, keeping his attention trained on Taeyong.  He raised an eyebrow and smiled, catlike.

“Wanna see something cool?”

“Sure?” Taeyong ventured, not sure if this was another way of saying “let’s have some fun and get to know each other.”  He steadied his core in case Ten decided to tackle him or something.  

Instead, Ten opened his leather jacket, giving his torso the effect of having bat wings.  Taeyong was surprised, but not as surprised as he would have been a month ago, to see the glint of what had to be at least two dozen small metal weapons emanating from the lining.  

“Shit…”

“Nice, huh?” Ten prompted, and Taeyong felt compelled to nod in agreement.  Ten used his head to indicate the right side of his jacket, where he had stored a slew of small knives, brass knuckles, and throwing stars, among other things Taeyong didn’t recognize.  

“This side is for hand to hand combat,” he explained, smiling like a snake about to bite.  He indicated to his left next, where he had some longer and thicker knives, plyers, metal clamps, and a bouquet of slim needles, each about nine inches in length.  “And this side is for extracting information.”  Ten seemed to register Taeyong’s cautious surprise.  “I only show you this so you know what you’re up against,” he cooed.  

“Al-alright,” Taeyong almost swallowed his words.  “I appreciate it.”

Before Ten could terrorize him any further, the door swung open and everyone was looking to see who had arrived.  It was Yukhei, trailed by Yuta.

“Yup, they’re in here,” Yukhei was saying, holding the door open for Yuta to enter.  

Yuta stalked towards Taeyong, Ten, and Sicheng and the boys at the corner table all stood in greeting.

“Ten,” Yuta said in mock disapproval, “are you traumatizing my poor partner?”

“I’d call it ‘educating,’” Ten responded.  “If he gets traumatized that’s simply a byproduct of necessary learning.”

“Okay, Ten, just don’t scare him off,” Yuta replied.

“It’s not like I could leave if I wanted to,” Taeyong grumbled, and Yuta shot him a cutting look, but it softened quickly into an expression of vague sadness.

“Taeyong, you’re wanted in room 2A.”

Taeyong schooled his face.  “Right away, Shategashira .”  

Yuta turned on his heel and exited the room.  Yukhei stayed by the door, Taeyong figured, because Ten needed him.  Taeyong followed hesitantly after, but Yukhei stopped him on the way out, looming over him but smiling so genuinely that Taeyong felt more comforted than scared.  

“If it’s any consolation,” Yukhei began, a thick accent coating his deep voice, “Sicheng kicks my ass all the time too.”  

Taeyong had a hard time believing that considering Yukhei, though he was roughly the same height as Sicheng, was noticeably larger in every other way.  He was probably either too nice or too reliant on blunt force.  Taeyong let out a breathy laugh.  

“Thanks.  That does make me feel a bit better.”

“No problem.”  

Taeyong left, hearing Ten’s call of “bye-bye, Taeyong!  I’ll see you again soon!” echo down the hall after him.  His stomach sank when he thought of the coldness he’d accidentally caused in Yuta, but the other man was nowhere to be found so he figured he’d just report where he was needed and find Yuta later.  

Room 2A was one floor down.  Taeyong tried to open it himself but it was locked, so he opted to bang on the metal to announce his presence.  It opened, a grinning pair of faces belonging to Johnny and Mina greeting him on the other side.  

“Yonggie!” Mina exclaimed, moving herself away from the entrance so Taeyong could pass her, which he did.  “Welcome!”

The room was little more than a cinder block box with a metal chair in the center.  If Taeyong didn’t trust Mina and Johnny at this point, he would be expecting something horrible to occur in such a room.  

“What’s going on, you guys?” Taeyong asked.  

Johnny closed the door and came to lean on the wall across from Taeyong.  

“Why don’t you take a seat,” he suggested, and Taeyong did.  “We’re here to impart on you some very valuable lessons.”  

Taeyong grimaced.  He was exhausted from what Sicheng had put him through and just wanted to find Yuta.  He’d had enough “education” and “lessons” for one day.  Nevertheless, he figured he had no choice but to indulge his captors.  

“What lessons are those?” Taeyong asked, rocking himself slightly against his chair.  Mina joined Johnny on the wall.

She answered, “Tactics for resisting interrogation.”

Taeyong started.  “Whoa.  Okay…”

“I know it sounds bad,” said Johnny, “but it’s really important for you to know.  Yuta asked us to do this.”

Taeyong felt his skin prickling as he grew more nervous.  Why didn’t Yuta just teach him himself, then? he wondered, posing the question out loud.  

Johnny smirked.  “Because, he has important shit to get done.  He can’t tend to his Yonggie constantly.  He has to delegate some of that.”

Taeyong gritted his teeth.  “Alright, alright.  But why do I need to know this?  I’m practically useless so why would anyone bother kidnapping me?”

Johnny slid down the wall until he was crouching against it, his face softening in mild concern.  

“First of all,” he said, “you should know you’re not useless, Taeyong.”

“Yeah!” Mina added.  “He might give you a hard time, but Johnny keeps telling me how much he likes having you around.”  Johnny smiled at this.  

“You hang around with a Lieutenant all day!” he said, and Mina finished his sentiment with, “you are TOTALLY kidnappable, Taeyong!”

Taeyong laughed at the preposterousness of this compliment.  “Thanks, guys.  I’m sorry, I’m just in a bit of a mood today,” he explained.  “And I guess you’re right.”

“Of course we are,” Johnny said, pushing back off the wall to standing.  “Anyway, now that we’re all on the same page, this is where things might get a bit unpleasant again.  We give this training to every member of the syndicate and all of our serious romantic partners, so contrary to your instincts, you are doubly in need of this.”

Taeyong squirmed, uncomfortable in a bad way over the fact that he wasn’t technically a syndicate member yet and uncomfortable in a good way at the knowledge that Yuta considered him serious .      

Mina smiled.  “Don’t worry, this has come in handy for me, for sure.”

“That just makes me worry more, you realize?” Taeyong replied with a grimace.  

“Okay, fair enough.  Sorry.  But it’s better you know than end up dead or betraying your friends and boyfriend!”

“Taeyong,” Johnny began.  “Let’s start with what you know.  When you picture a yakuza kidnapping, what’s happening?”

Taeyong’s mind flew to the image of Ten’s sparkling and deadly bat wings.  “I try not to picture that, but I saw what Ten carries around with him, so I think I have an idea.”

Johnny laughed hollowly as Mina watched him.  “Yeah, Ten’s a special guy.  I think he’s the only person I’ve met who genuinely enjoys that part of the job.  Anyway, so you know it could get bad.”

Johnny lifted his shirt to reveal his lower abdomen.  There was a long, thin scar across his obliques, slicing an inked koi fish in half.  

“Knives are common,” he explained vaguely.  “I got this one from a Sumiyoshi thug nicknamed ‘The Butcher.’  But we’ll get to that later.”

Taeyong swallowed thickly as he tried to steady his buzzing eyes.  Johnny continued.  

“Obviously, you know that we expect you not to divulge any sensitive information.  There are three things you are allowed to confirm for your captors though, just to get them thinking you won’t be a complete pain in their asses.  Those three things are name, rank, and clan.  Got it?”

Taeyong remembered how Yuta had lost patience quickly with the Yamaguchi assassin who refused to give any personal details.  He didn’t want to end up like that guy.  He nodded.  

“Lee Taeyong, Kumi-in, Inagawa-kai,” he recited, as if anyone in the room didn’t already know.

“But no more than that,” Johnny confirmed.  

“Another important thing to keep in mind,” Mina continued, “is that there are ways to avoid the worst tactics.  If they’ve gone to the trouble of capturing you, that’s because they think you have crucial information that they need.  It’s in their interest to keep you alive.”

Taeyong nodded along, determined to be a good student as he realized more and more clearly the very real possibility he might need to use some of what he was learning.  

“Although it can be tempting to act defiant as if you’re not bothered by the pain, and many experienced gangsters will do this to avoid hurting their fragile little egos,” Mina looked pointedly at Johnny, who just shrugged, guilty, “it can do you some good to play to the opposite.  You should exaggerate your injuries and pain.  Even if they try to use that against you and humiliate you, ultimately if they think you’re closer to death than you are they’ll let up much faster.  Make sense?”  

Taeyong nodded quickly.  Exaggerated pain, he could do that.  “Makes sense,” he confirmed.  

“Okay,” Johnny went on, “another thing.  Obviously if you ever did get kidnapped, we’d send some people out to find you, and hopefully they’d be successful.”

Taeyong shifted in his seat, watching Johnny start to pace.  Hopefully .  

“When you do get rescued, for that to end well you need to stay calm and not try to join in the fight.  If they see you moving around a lot or if you look like you’re about to break out of whatever restraints they have you in and fight back, then they’re way more likely to treat you like an enemy combatant and not like a prisoner.  You could get killed.  It’s kind of counterintuitive, but it’s important.”

Taeyong rolled his ankles, gaining some comfort out of the way the stretch and crack of the movement soothed his muscles.  He took a deep breath.

“Hey guys, why are we doing this right now?  Am I in danger?”    

Mina and Johnny exchanged a glance, sending Taeyong’s heart racing even faster than it already was as he tried to decipher their silent communication.  Mina spoke first.

“Not necessarily,” she said.

“We just want to prepare you,” Johnny added.  “Well, Yuta wanted us to prepare you because he’s been really worried since that assassin came after you two.  We can’t be sure that anything too serious will go down but if, say, a gang war does start over this Mitsubishi thing, we want you to be prepared.  Got it?”

“Oh…yeah, got it.”  Taeyong sighed.  “I supposed it’s too late to just…let me go, huh?”

Johnny’s face screwed up and Mina’s twitched.  Taeyong thought of their conversation at Johnny’s pachinko bar, assuming she too was pouring over the memory of her own warnings.  

“I – look,” Johnny began, and Taeyong already knew the answer he was about to receive.  “It’s been discussed, and the higher ups are adamant; you’ll be given the choice as soon as the Mitsubishi deal is secured, but no earlier.  They felt they needed to bring you on in the beginning, and I’m in no position to question if that was overkill, but at this point you’re certainly stuck, considering all the information you have.” Taeyong nodded, eyes fluttering to the floor as Johnny leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms.  He huffed a breath.  “Do you – do you want to leave, Taeyong?”

Taeyong blinked.  He didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t even know what leaving would mean or where he could ever go.  His new life was exciting in a way he’d always dreamed about and he liked the people around him more than he’d liked anyone in a long time; Johnny and Mina going out of their way to help him stay safe, the other Tora regiment members all welcoming him so easily, and Yuta…god, Yuta… At the same time though, Taeyong’s new life hadn’t managed to shake the feeling he so often had that he was floating through existence, incapable of being grounded even by the most intense experiences.  He wasn’t used to things working out for him.  Besides, the last time he made a major decision for himself, he’d been called xenophobic names and battered within an inch of his life.  

“I…don’t know,” he admitted.  “I don’t think so, anyway, but I don’t want to be a liability.”

Johnny smiled slightly.  “That’s not worth worrying about because you aren’t.”

Taeyong wasn’t convinced, but he nodded anyway.  “Alright,” he said.  “What else have you got to teach me?”

Johnny and Mina let him go after another half hour or so of discussion, teaching him how to school his demeanor to fit somewhere between deference and defiance, how to relax himself in a way that would prevent excessive bleeding and make blows easier to endure, and how to give answers that kept the line of questioning going but revealed nothing to the interrogators.  By the time he left room 2A, Taeyong was wondering if he should feel empowered or petrified, his mind careening from one emotion to the other with every new thought.  Once he was done processing, he decided to find Yuta.  

He’d barely had the chance to talk to him all day and it was weird for him.  The night before had been ridiculously intimate, Yuta fucking him so well, opening up to him about his past, and holding him as they fell asleep; so the weird shifts Taeyong had observed all day in Yuta between teasing and aloof were giving him whiplash since he couldn’t ask what was causing them.  He hoped Yuta wasn’t busy.  

“ Douzo .”

Taeyong’s heart sank when he opened Yuta’s office door and saw Kun there, though he tried not to show it.    

“Taeyong, what is it?” Yuta asked, an air of impatience radiating from him and from Kun as he turned around to see who was there.  

“ Shategashira ,” Taeyong saluted.  He felt like it was his first day all over again. “Sorry to interrupt.  I was just hoping to speak with you whenever you’re free.”

Yuta’s expression softened.  “Of course.  Why don’t you sit by the window while we finish up?”

“Thank you,” Taeyong said, bowing sheepishly and settling into one of the indicated chairs.  “Excuse me.”

Kun looked sideways at Taeyong, silent.  

“You can speak freely in front of him,” assured Yuta.  Kun nodded and pulled his attention back to the matter at hand.  

“I just don’t understand how they would have gotten ahold of that information.  Could it have been through Donghyuck’s crew?”  By “they” Taeyong assumed Kun meant the Yamaguchi-gumi.  

Yuta shook his head, placing his fingers in a check mark shape at his chin.  “I doubt it.  Donghyuck is extremely careful.”

Kun was growing exasperated.  Taeyong felt like maybe this was an interaction he shouldn’t be witnessing.  He didn’t quite know why he felt that way, though.  

“Well, Yuta, there has to be a weak link somewhere, and I trust that you’ll eliminate it.  We’re already in a less stable position than I was expecting upon arrival.”

Yuta smiled accommodatingly.  “Thank you for your confidence.  The leak could have also come from a different regiment, but I’m doing all I can to weed out whoever is responsible.”

“Good,” said Kun.  “Our success and our partnership could depend on this.”

“I understand.”

Right then, Chenle and Renjun showed up at the door, having finished a shopping trip down the street, to tell Kun that Ten was looking for him.  Taeyong thought he saw Kun direct a sliver of a smile his way as he left.  

Yuta sat up and joined Taeyong by the window in the chair to his left.  He sat and sighed, a big, open smile overtaking his face.  There was the whiplash again.

“Hi baby,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Did Johnny and Mina give you the talk?”

Taeyong snorted a laugh, looking at Yuta from under his fringy bangs.  “Yeah, they did.”

“You okay?” Yuta asked.  Taeyong shrugged.

“Could’ve been worse,” he guessed.  “Good stuff to know.”

Yuta leaned in.  “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“I guess a little.  But there was other stuff too.”

Taeyong looked around Yuta’s office.  He’d been stuck almost all day in rooms with concrete walls and fluorescent lighting, and it was making him want to jump out of his skin.  He told Yuta to wait a moment for him to get up and turn off the lights.  On second thought, while he was up and about, he opened the window to flush the room of the stench of stale cigarette smoke.  Yuta watched him with caution as he underwent his little chores.  Taeyong turned from the window and made his way back to his chair, eyes finally able to relax in the dimness.  

“Johnny and Mina said you’re worried I might be in danger.”

Yuta sighed again.  “I don’t necessarily think you’re in imminent danger, but I want to be safe.  It’s always a possibility.  Sorry if I scared you.”

“Like I told you this morning,” Taeyong repeated.  “You don’t scare me.  I just want you to be up front with me.”

“Up front, huh?” Yuta paused, his eyes flitting over the floor in thought.  “Truth is I’ve been worried about you since the Yamaguchi assassin.  It’s always risky to take on a new recruit, or a lover for that matter,” Taeyong blushed at the word, “but up until that point I don’t think the danger felt as real.  I would never forgive myself if I let something bad happen to you, Taeyong.”

One of the things Taeyong had been wondering about clicked into place for him.  “Your dream last night…is that what – ”

“Yes.  That’s part of why I was worried about frightening you.  Thought I might have said something while unconscious about you, I don’t know, getting abducted or something.”

“You didn’t,” said Taeyong, breathing a laugh.  

“Good.”  Yuta smiled, gaze trained at the open window and fingers fiddling with the bottom of his blazer.  Taeyong wondered if he was nervous to make eye contact.  “And then later when you mentioned how you’re basically stuck with me, then I felt like shit all over again because it’s true: you’re essentially my hostage.”  With that, Yuta finally looked Taeyong in the face.  “I just don’t know what to do when you say things like that. I know this seems silly, I mean I’ve never shied away from doing arguably unethical things before, but I couldn’t help but ask myself if you even like me -- ”

The pressure that had been threatening to send Taeyong shooting out of his own body finally became too much, and in lieu of doing the impossible, he found himself damming up Yuta’s stream of consciousness with a kiss.    

“There we go,” he teased, pulling away and reveling in the awestruck look on Yuta’s face.  “I had to shut you up somehow.”

Yuta’s face hadn’t moved since the kiss ended and a smile was spreading over it like melting butter. “That’s no way to speak to your commander,” he teased back, sounding a little drunk on relief.  Taeyong spoke.    

“ Shategashira , I hope you can forgive me.  But you are being ridiculous.  I like you, okay?  And it’s not because I’m scared or brainwashed.  I like you because I like you .  I like the way you make me feel.  I’m sorry for making you think I wanted to leave.”  

Yuta took Taeyong’s hand and kissed it.  “ I’m sorry for being such a basket case.  Aish, it’s embarrassing, huh?”

Taeyong snorted.  “Oh please.  If you weren’t insecure sometimes, I might actually be afraid of you.”

He smiled to himself, wondering for a moment if maybe he needed to stop thinking so much and just bask in the strange twist of fate that had brought him and Yuta together.  They were still getting to know each other, but Taeyong had never been with someone so charismatic yet so open.  If he was going to risk being kidnapped and tortured it might just end up being worth it.  Taeyong allowed himself to be lost enough in thought that a few seconds felt like minutes and he barely heard it when the door flung open without warning.  Yuta heard it though, wrenching his fingers from where they were laced between Taeyong’s.  

“Yuta-san!” said Renjun as he entered the room trailed by Chenle. “What’s going on in here?”

Yuta glared.  “Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?  That’s very disrespectful.”

“Sorry, didn’t know you had anything to hide,” Chenle quipped.  “Anyway, Kun is looking for you again.”

Yuta stood, reluctantly it seemed to Taeyong.  “Why couldn’t he send someone else to fetch me?”

Chenle rolled his eyes as they left the room and on the way out Taeyong heard Renjun explain, “because, he told us if all we were gonna do was loiter he might as well put us to use.”

Taeyong giggled, catching himself when Yuta peered back through the door.  “Hey, you can go home.  Or stick around and make some friends, yeah?”

Taeyong nodded.  “Yeah,” he agreed, and Yuta rapped his knuckles against the door with a grin before he was gone.  Taeyong stood, determined to have some Triad friends by the end of the day.    

[wildroseofarran]

Facing Demons || Brett, Guildias, MJ, & Pete || April, 2020

Brett: It had been several weeks since Brett had received that letter from California. During that time the letter had sat untouched in his locked desk drawer at the station, coming out only once when it had been shown to his domitor.

The rest of the time had been spent keenly aware of its presence while contemplating burning it or trying and failing to work up the courage to get it out again. Brett could think of good reasons to do the former and only one to do the latter, yet somehow, he hadn't ever been able to bring himself to get rid of it. He hadn't been able to work up the courage either.

Truth be told, he had no idea what finally made him do it; just that while having his lunch one afternoon, he found himself unlocking that drawer and looking at that number scrawled on the bottom.

"God help me," he sighed.

{Text to MJ} Hi

{Text} Does the offer still stand?

MJ: MJ felt for his phone on the bedside table. Blackened out room. Still no night vision; still no desire to live in daylight.

The brightness of the screen burned his retinas, hissing like a cat. The phone bounced between hands in an exhausting rescue attempt.

{Text} Whoooo yes. Hi. {Text} If this is the sheriff absolutely

Brett: Right, new number. MJ wouldn't remember Brett's phone number, he should've self-identified. Silly mistake brought on by buckets of anxiety.

{Text} Yeah, sorry about that

{Text} It's Brett Parker

MJ: {Text} Sup man

{Text} Where ya want? When?

{Text} Please don't say right now my eyeballs are roasting

Brett: Brett stared down at his phone, worrying his lip between his teeth. He hadn’t thought he’d make it this far and didn’t have a plan.

{Text to Guildias} Hey

{Text to Guildias} I finally got up the courage to contact MJ

Guildias: {Text from Guildias} Are you alright?

Brett: {Text to Guildias} Kind of. Feeling anxious and like I shouldn’t be eating lunch because I’m afraid I might see it again

{Text to Guildias} He’s asking where and when I want to meet

Guildias: The next text takes a minute.

{Text} You wish for me to accompany you?

Brett: {Text} I would, if you’re still willing

Guildias: {Text} Where would you feel most comfortable?

Brett: {Text} Your place, if we’re being completely honest

Guildias: {Text} Set up the meeting, then.

Brett: {Text} What time works best?

Guildias: {Text} Eight o'clock. {Text} Have to yield to our schedule tonight.

Brett: Brett had figured as much. At least he had a few hours to calm himself down and work up even more courage to actually go through with it.

{Text} I thought as much

{Text} Is it okay if I come a little early?

Guildias: {Text} It'll just be me. I would prefer you first.

Brett: Brett took a deep breath. That much was a relief. Getting there first was just a small little thing but he knew from other experiences that it would help a lot.

{Text} Okay, thank you

{Text} Is it all right if I get there around 7:30?

Guildias: {Text} That's fine. Wait at the door for me and do try not to be alarmed by my appearance.

Brett: He frowned at his phone. Alarmed? Why would he be alarmed?

{Text} I promise I'll try my best

{Text} See you tonight

Guildias: Guildias felt under-dressing, shirtless as he had been for days, would distract from the occasion. A black loose-fitted V-neck sweater was slipped into and tucked. The left sleeve hung, empty from down the elbow.

A text was sent Callum, warning of the impending chapter about to unfold.

Brett: Now that there was a plan in place, Brett turned his attention back to his other conversation with a bit less anxiety.

{Text to MJ} No, don't worry. I'm working right now

{Text to MJ} Are you free tonight at 8? We can meet at Guildias' house

MJ: MJ stared for a moment. He shouldn't have been surprised. Something in the suggestion of Guildias insulted him.

{Text} Yeah. I'll see ya then

Brett: {Text} See you then

{Text} Also, just out of curiosity, why are your eyeballs roasting?

MJ: {Text} Daylight sheriff

{Text} I have this skin condition see

{Text} Where everything hurts and I'm dying because daytime

Brett: {Text} Right, forgot it's the middle of the day only for me

{Text} Sorry about that

{Text} I'll see you tonight

MJ: {Text} Get some vitamin D for me

Brett: {Text} Will do

Now to attempt to finish his lunch and the rest of his shift despite the queasy feeling in his stomach. He also had to tell Bo that he would be home late.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he sighed to his sandwich.

Guildias: Guildias unlocked the one and only entrance at 7:15 pm. Walked around the house once and stepped outside with a pair of brown octagonal sunglasses. The moon was warm and far too bright to ignore tonight. Its image a reminder of Peter Graham. Made him curious enough to message the gentle beast as he took a seat on the edge of the porch.

Brett/Pete: Brett was still busy working up courage in his car somewhere, but Pete not nearly as much. The pub was quiet tonight, giving him a chance to check his phone.

{Text} Fancy hearing from you

{Text} What are you up to?

Guildias: {Text} Growing things. Relaxing by moonlight and thinking of you.

{Text} But truly, playing the role of mediator.

Pete: {Text} Awww, that’s sweet. Growing things is certainly one way to put it

{Text} Who or what are you mediating?

Guildias: {Text} A lost relationship.

{Text} I strive to squash avoidable headaches.

Pete: {Text} Nothing breaks the ice like food and booze

{Text} Could help avoid those headaches

Guildias: {Text} If it were only so simple.

Pete: {Text} There’s gotta be something that’ll help

Guildias: {Text} Time and proof and willingness.

Pete: {Text} Sounds like you’ve got at least one of those if you’re being asked to mediate

Guildias: {Text} We shall see if that is the case.

{Text} You take care now.

Brett/Pete: {Text} You too, man

{Text} Sending you luck and good energy

Two things Brett was in sore need of as he pulled up to Guildias’ house. It was just shy of 7:30 but he hadn’t been able to drive around in idle circles any longer.

He just hoped Guildias wouldn’t mind.

Guildias: Guildias watched, raised his hand in wave, cigarette pinched between two fingers. He seemed to be favoring his right shoulder, elbow leaned against the porch. The sleeve of his left arm was mostly empty, laid flat over his abdomen.

Brett: Brett didn't notice at first. He waved back and cut the engine, got out just as he always did. It didn't hit him that something looked...not quite right until he was walking towards the house, and even then, it took him getting even closer to see that Guildias' left hand wasn't poking out of its sleeve.

And actually...that left sleeve looked empty, didn't it? Almost like....

"Wait, wh--where's your arm?! Sorry, hi, I just--hell, I broke my promise already."

Guildias: "It's alright." Less panic than expected of the timid sheriff. Another tally in his progression. More concern than fear.

"It was by design. You'll find me in proper form next week. For now, I would appreciate your tying the end."

Brett: There was definitely more concern, along with an avalanche of questions that he planned to keep to himself for the time being. "Yeah, yeah, of course. Just tell me how."

Guildias: "Just a simple knot. Not too tight. The dangle is rather annoying."

Brett: "You got it."  Brett tied off the sleeve as neatly as possible, careful not to stretch the material too much. If Guildias really would get that arm back, that sleeve needed to look decent.

"There you go. That better?"

Guildias: Where it seemed the elbow was shook back and forth to test. Acceptable.

"Thank you. Now, would you rather we go inside?"

Brett: Brett took a seat beside Guildias. "I'm okay to stay out here a bit while you finish your cigarette."

Guildias: "Kind as always." He knew the answer, but still offered the cigarette anyway.

Brett: He shook his head. “Someday maybe, but not today. Thanks though.”

Guildias: "How prepared are you for what's about to happen?"

Brett: “Not nearly enough.”

Guildias: "What is it you want to hear?"

Brett: “I don’t know. Part of me still thinks this is all a trick somehow.”

Guildias: "I've been in contact with him for some time. I would not lead you astray for cheap entertainment."

Brett: He nodded. “I know. I guess I just don’t trust him.”

Guildias: "Why would you? You haven't seen him."

Brett: “What if I’m still not able to after I do see him?”

Guildias: "Then you don't have to see him again. But you will have faced him."

Brett: Brett nodded again, taking a deep breath for good measure. "Conquer your demons and all that, right?"

Guildias: "Or leave them as tar on your body."

Brett: "I've got enough tar already. Don't want anymore."

Guildias: "Good man." The last of his cigarette depleted, Guildias forced himself to his feet.

"Shall we?"

Brett: He could feel the knots begin to form in his stomach as he stood. Every part of him wanted to get back in his car and race back home so he could hide under the covers, but his feet would carry him inside after his domitor.

MJ/Guildias: There was no concealing the sound of MJ's Harley. Its classic intention could be heard a quarter mile through the muffling trees. A sound which did nothing to spur Guildias from his languid arrangement on the stiff couch. Only in the silence of the engine did the Setite rise to his feet.

"Remain comfortable," was his only command as he approached the door.

Brett: It was like flipping a switch; or it would be, if Brett hadn't already been so nervous. First sign of that bike coming toward the house and the stress sweat started, the knots in his stomach tightened to the point of discomfort, fight or flight activated in every possible way.

If he spoke one of them would win out, so he just nodded. Never mind that comfortable was the farthest thing from what he was feeling right now. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted to have faced it without having to face it.

MJ/Guildias: Guildias greeted MJ at the door. He needn't explain. For this to be their meeting ground, MJ knew there were unspoken rules. Don't approach; be gentle with the ghoul. The look in the Setite's eyes told him to behave, and without prompt he nodded.

MJ's first thought upon laying eyes on the sheriff was that of a porcelain doll. Without smoothness and impossible complexion. Brett Parker was a delicate creature. His arms and chest had since filled and firmed. Everything else was distinctly the same. It was as though Guildias had done nothing but indulge the ghoul in vitae. His initial feeling was that of anger, but then like a slap remembered the deed which brought them here.

He decided upon a simple greeting, uttered softly, apologetic in inflection.

"Hey."

Brett: Brett didn't make eye-contact or get to his feet. Instead he picked a spot somewhere in the region of MJ's middle and gave a jerky nod in greeting and something that could reasonably pass for a smile.

"Hi." His voice had lost its ease in an effort to keep it from trembling. It was stiff, just like all the rest of him.

MJ/Guildias: MJ exchanged a glance with Guildias, looked to the emptiness of his sleeve and scoffed. The logical path to take was that of avoidance. For at least five minutes.

"Ya hear how that happened?"

Brett: He shook his head. "I didn't ask, I just tied."

MJ/Guildias: "Oh ya did that?"

"Is that a story you wish to hear?" Guildias asked.

Brett: He really, really doubted that a story that ended with Guildias losing an arm was something he wanted to hear, not even on a good day. But it was probably best to keep the conversation going, otherwise it would stall and the space would fill with tense silence and that was worse.

"Sure."

MJ/Guildias: MJ held his hands up in submission, then down slowly at his sides before taking a seat directly across. Guildias took to the arm of the couch by Parker's side. The Ravnos began to explain his visit, his friend Abel Harrington, and the idea to rescue a child they had suspicions had somehow fallen into through the Gauntlet into another realm. He then held both hands to Guildias.

"I couldn't go in. Had t'play security guard. But if ya ever saw Poltergeist ya got an idea of the goo they were covered in when they got out."

"The child is safe and healthy, according to news," said Guildias.

Brett: Brett had to fight to keep from leaning against Guildias for safety and comfort, but he appreciated his domitor’s nearness nonetheless. It was exactly the sort of thing Guildias would do.

At least the story provided plenty of distraction. There were parts of it—most of it— he could scarcely believe, things that sounded too fantastical to ever be real. He probably wouldn’t if he had any other job and didn’t watch TV.

“I remember hearing about that kid when he first went missing. Every law enforcement agency in the state got an alert. Glad he’s okay.”

MJ: "All in a night's work. Should give Guildias a superhero name. Somehow I've been dubbed Aquaman." He remembered giving Xavier his name, but couldn't for the unlife of him remember how he'd been worthy of his moniker. Something to ask when this was over; something to take his mind off of the meek look in the sheriff's eyes.

"M'sorry," he finally said.

Brett: After having braved enough to look at MJ’s chest, Brett seemed to lose his nerve and looked down at his hands instead. He had them clasped in his lap, knuckles white with the effort to keep them from shaking.

At a loss for a response, he remained silent.

MJ: "Ya don't have t'say anything. I know I fucked up. Ya looked at me like I was some... dangerous stranger. Thought if I could make ya laugh." He imitated a heartbeat. "N'then I had no thoughts. I know more shit happened, but I don't have it."

Brett: For a moment he swore he could smell lavender again. More than once a passing whiff of it had sent him into a panic, made him horribly ill. It was forever linked with that night in his mind. But apparently only in his.

“You don’t remember,” he said to the floor.

MJ: "I was two people. One that wanted t'love ya, the other wanted to... have ya."

Brett: “Which one is here?”

MJ: "Both."

Brett: “How?”

MJ: "Threat of death can do a hell of a lot. I became we became I." His hands came out then fell to his knees. "I keep tellin' people I'm not Victoria. I'm not MJ."

Brett: That didn't really answer his question, but he wasn't sure he really wanted an explanation. Some questions you just didn't want the answers to.

"Who are you?"

MJ: "I'm in this body, so you can still call me MJ, or Mayhew, or asshole. Whatever works."

Brett: "So you're still named MJ. Who are you. Why'd you send me that letter in the first place if you didn't even remember what you did?"

MJ: "Ya didn't deserve what happened. I know that much. Isn't that enough?"

Brett: "Would it be for you?"

MJ: "If it meant anything t'ya."

Brett: "And what is it that you want from me?"

MJ: "T'know you're okay."

Brett: "You sent me the letter weeks ago and I'm just now here with you. What does that tell you?"

MJ: "M'not askin' for forgiveness."

Brett: "It would be meaningless if you were."

MJ: "It'd be a child askin' forgiveness for the sins of the mother."

Brett: "It would be meaningless because you wouldn't know what you were asking forgiveness for."

MJ: He placed both fists together. Exactly.

Brett: Brett’s gaze fell to the floor.

So. This was it. This was as close to closure as he was ever going to get. He got to feel unclean for the rest of his life and have nightmares and panic attacks while the person who made him this way got...nothing. MJ got to be a whole new person, free of the burden of that night while Brett was left to shoulder it alone.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting or if he was really expecting anything. It wasn’t like he had any reason to. That night had broken him in a thousand different ways but he was fully aware that from a vampire’s perspective, the whole thing had been his fault. For refusing. For being difficult. For believing, just for a moment, that he was a person who had the luxury of saying no. Life had already taught him that that wasn’t a word he could say anymore. He was a ghoul.

And ghouls didn’t get to say no.

Brett sighed. “I don’t know what else to say.”

MJ: "Ya ain't - Ya don't have t'say anything else. I'm... I'm glad ya let this happen. Us," he motioned between them, "but this wasn't for me. If someone did what - I want ya t'feel... safe again? I had a whole speech planned out, but I can't. That shit feels empty."

Brett: He shook his head. “I don’t. Feel safe. Not anymore, not for months.” Despite his progress, he still had bad days. When those bad days were really bad, they led to bad weeks.

The scent of lavender or pumpkin, a stranger touching him in public, a nightmare, a shadow on the kitchen tile out of the corner of his eye, the sight of blood; it felt like anything was liable to set it off.

MJ: "What d'ya want me t'do, Brett?"

Brett: That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? What could MJ do that would change anything?

Brett sighed. “Unless you’ve got a time machine...nothing. This is for me to deal with.”

MJ: "I ain't got one of them. Don't think it'd do ya good." Without thinking, he rubbed the back of his head. A tingle there akin to an itch.

Brett: “Sure as hell wouldn’t hurt.”

MJ: "How long's it been? What ya do since then? Ya'd lose all that."

Brett: “That’s easy to say for someone with no memory,” Brett said to the floor.

MJ: "Yeah, but I still got people."

Brett: Good for you, he thought, sounding sarcastic even in his mind. Why was he still here? There was nothing more to say, and they'd established there was nothing more to do.

He'd done it, he'd faced his demons, and all he'd gotten was the knowledge that his demons had gotten off scot-free. It was, as he'd said, for him to deal with.

Away from here.

"I'd like to go home now," Brett said, turning his head toward Guildias but not looking at him. He felt...defeated. Sounded it, too.

MJ/Guildias: "No one here will stop you," Guildias said. This was all for Brett Parker's peace of mind. Face the fear, as he'd encouraged for months. This chapter had finally reached its end.

MJ nodded, felt the safest route was stillness. Let Brett command the room and leave at his own accord.

"If ya wanna talk, or need me t'do somethin', ya got my number."

Brett: Brett acknowledged both of them with a nod and got to his feet. He couldn’t conceive of a situation where he’d want to turn to MJ for a favor or sympathetic ear, not now. Perhaps not even in the near future. But he supposed the offer counted for something in some cosmic sense.

That was about as much graciousness as he could muster at the moment.

He gave a sedate farewell to his domitor, gave MJ a vague grunt of acknowledgement, and let himself out, giving the couch where MJ sat as wide a berth as he could without clinging to the wall.

He wasn’t up for company, didn’t want to bring this mood and this...this home to Bo. So he’d drive around until he could find someplace quiet to be with his thoughts where no one would talk to him.

[astarinthevalley]

It Was Bound To Happen

Siblings get mad at each other, it happens. Siblings fight for silly reasons, it happens. Things can get out of hand, it happens.

Sebastian glanced at the clock on his computer and blinked a couple of times. Was it really 9:45 PM? It was only 4:30 PM a couple of minutes ago.

He pushed his chair away from his screen and looked around his abyss of a room, barely being able to make any piece of furniture out. He’d usually turn on the small TV by his bed for background noise and a source of light--one not too intense, but not too dim either--since he despised getting up and traveling across his room just to flip a light switch.

Sebastian stretched his arms high over his head, listening to the clicks his wrists made as he rotated them. He turned his head and his neck released a loud, satisfying crack.

He got up and heard his feet land on what remained of his lunch: empty, crumbled bags of chips. When did he eat those again? 11 AM? He should be hungry, his stomach should feel like it’s being ripped to shreds like it always does when he forgets to eat, but he felt fine. ‘I should eat something anyways.’ He thought to himself. His mom, Maru, and Demetrius probably already had dinner together, and had stored the leftovers in the microwave for him as they always do whenever he couldn’t--or didn’t--join them.

Sebastian began maneuvering his way through the dark room, shuffling his feet across the floor so he wouldn’t risk stepping on whatever trash he had tossed and forgotten about. He kept his eyes focused on the spot where his door stood and reached his hand out. The moment his fingers came into contact with the cold metal of the knob, he wrapped his hand around it, swung the door open, and was immediately blinded. Why were the house’s lights still on? His mom always turned them off at 9:30.

He walked up the stairs, hand on the railing, as his eyes adjusted to the sudden shift in brightness. As he ascended the stairs, he could hear his step-sister, Maru, talking aloud with the occasional giggle in between her pauses. She must be on the phone.

He reached the hallway and took a right, journeying straight to the kitchen, not interested in whatever Maru was blabbering about. Unfortunately for him, Maru also decided she wanted to spend some of her time in the kitchen. She was sitting on top of their kitchen table, wrinkling the pink cloth covering it that mom had washed today, phone pressed against her ear, and a big, stupid, punchable smile on her face.

Whoever was on the other side was taking their time talking, so Sebastian decided to ask “Where’s mom?”

Maru peeked at him and whispered a ‘Hold on’ to her friend. “They’re at the saloon, and hello to you too.” She said in a tone not nearly as enthusiastic as it was a moment ago.

His mom would always pop into his room to let him know she was heading off somewhere, why didn’t she this time? Or maybe she did and he had forgotten about it.

He brought himself to the microwave and opened it to see a bowl of pesto pasta sitting in the center. ‘Warm it up for a minute, stir, then cook again for another minute.’ His mom’s instructions rang through his head.

He shut the microwave again, set the timer up, got a fork from a drawer, then stood and watched the bowl rotate while listening to the low buzzing and the tiny pops coming from his dinner.

Sebastian always found the noise rather calming in a strange sense--that is until time had run out and his trance would be disrupted by the blaring beeps--but Maru’s rambling was impossible to block out.

“... And I got a letter from another college today--Yeah, yeah! I didn’t expect so many to be interested, I’m really overwhelmed!”

Sebastian couldn’t hold back his groan. She was bragging about her damn robot again. Normally he’d be mildly annoyed but understanding when it came to bragging about accomplishments, he was guilty of doing so himself, but to constantly hear someone praise themselves for well over a month would start to drive anyone insane. Maru had built a robot--with the help of Demetrius--that was about the size of a small dog. It was able to pick up certain objects, respond to commands, and write. She showed off it’s abilities to the whole town, and everyone, even Sebastian, was impressed with what she had created.

“... My dad said he was going to help me with future projects, but I need to be more independent.”

He expected the never-ending praise from his parents, and had prepared himself for the constant compliments Maru would receive throughout this month and the many months after. She could mop the floor and they’d shower her in affection for the whole week, it was something they were both used to. But what he wasn’t prepared for was everyone to constantly talk about Maru and her invention. Maru makes a dingy droid and you might as well have told everyone the second coming of Christ was happening in this very valley. Sure, they lived in a small town, and when anything slightly out of the ordinary popped up, it was bound to be talked about for a couple of weeks, but conversations about Maru have barely dwindled.

“... I still need to make some improvements on the little droid.”

The continuous praise at home was exhausting enough, so to hear her name in every passing conversation was a nightmare. He liked to leave his house to get away from her, to get away from his parents gushing, but now it felt like there was no escape. Even his best friends, Sam and Abigail, had mentioned both Maru and her machine during their nights at the saloon.

Three loud, obnoxious beeps finally escaped the microwave. That had to have been the longest minute of his life.

He took out the dish and stirred the contents recklessly, his fork clashing against the sides of the bowl and scraping the bottom, before placing it back in and setting the timer for another minute.

The second the dish is done, he’ll snatch it up, and rush back into the basement away from Maru. He wouldn’t care if the scalding ceramic would melt his fingers off, he couldn’t stand being in the kitchen with her for a second longer.

“... That’s the problem, I don’t know if I want to move out yet! I really love it here, and I know my parents would support me no matter what I choose, but…”

Is she capable of talking about anything besides herself? Everything has to be about her, her inventions, how her parents can’t get over her, her problems, her success, her feelings, her. Her. Her.

Sebastian hated it. When he stayed up countless nights programming with no help whatsoever, fueled by several cans of energy drinks and stress, all he’d receive were lectures. ‘Stop spending so much time on the computer’, ‘Stop playing games’, ‘Stop browsing the web’, ‘Staying in here for so long is unhealthy’, shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Then when he was given the chance to share what he was doing, explaining how he tests and develops software with enthusiasm and bright eyes, he could see his parents’ lack of interest in their dull eyes. Their amazement and fascination was all used on whatever Maru had been doing that day, and all that was left for him was boredom and exhaustion. Even on the days he went outside to work on his motorcycle, Demetrius wouldn’t hesitate to bicker about how much noise he was making, how he was distracting Maru from her work, how he was making a mess. The man was impossible to satisfy.

“... Yeah, I’ll be able to come over tomorrow!”

Sebastian stared at the timer. There were 10 seconds left.

“... I was thinking of bringing some gadgets over--Oh! We could try…” He hated her. Perhaps that was a strong word, but it was the truth. Nothing good had ever come from Maru.

9 seconds.

“... I don’t mind what we do, I just hate being cooped up in my room all day…” He hated the bragging, he hated the never-ending praise, he hated how the moment she was born their parents shoved everything he had into the basement.

8 seconds.

“... My parents don’t mind…” He hated how she always acted so high and mighty.

7 seconds.

“... As long as I’m home before it gets dark…” He hated how Demetrius would treat him every time he was near her.

6 seconds.

“... I need a break anyways…” He hated how he was always blamed for any argument or feud that came between them.

5 seconds.

“... My wrists have been killing me…” It was never her fault. Maru can’t do anything wrong, it’s always Sebastian.

“... I swear, my projects will be the death of me...” He hated the mere sight of her.

4 seconds.

“... Oh, did I tell you about what I’m currently working on?” He hated her voice.

3 seconds.

“... I’ve been making these blueprints…” He hated her.

2 seconds.

“... For a new robot…” He hated her.

1 second.

“... And I’m hoping it’ll be able to do even more than my first--”

Without his command, his legs took him straight to Maru. He tore the phone from her hand and held it with a crushing grip.

Maru’s mouth hung open, processing what had just happened in those mere, few seconds.

“Please.” Sebastian started in a frigid hush, “Shut. Up.”

Maru blinked a couple of times and stared at him, dumbfounded.

She shook off her surprise and reached for the phone, “I was talking with somebody!”

Sebastian pulled it away and hung up on whoever she was speaking with, “Not anymore. You can call them another time.”

Sebastian turned back to the counter, ready to grab his dinner and leave. He threw her phone aside and heard it land with a gratifying ‘crack’.

Maru scrambled to pick it up, checking the screen to make sure it hadn’t been ruined, then looked back at Sebastian.

“What is your problem?!” She raised her voice, face tinting red.

Sebastian ignored her as he opened the microwave.

She placed the phone on the table and stood up, snapping her fingers to get her step-brother’s attention.

“Hey, hey! You can’t just treat me like garbage one second then pretend I don’t exist the next!”

“I said shut up.” Sebastian repeated coldly, facing away from the girl.

“No, I won’t!” Maru stepped closer, “I can deal with you acting like this most of the time, but these past few weeks you have been really, really--” She scrunched her face, struggling to come up with a word to perfectly describe his recent, foul behavior. “--Vile!” She finished, pointing a finger at him.

“Sorry I’m not kissing your ass like everyone else.” He rolled his eyes as he grabbed the hot dish. He set it on the counter and scanned the kitchen for napkins.

Maru watched him search for a minute, then the gears in her head started turning.

Her eyes widened, “It’s because of my robot, isn’t it--”

“No, that damned robot isn’t the issue,” He clutched the edge of the counter, “it’s you! That’s my problem, it’s always been you!” He growled.

A genuinely hurt expression flashed across Maru’s face before it was replaced with anger. Her hands curled into fists.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” She muttered, her voice was shaky. “You’re… You’re just…” She hated these moments with Sebastian. She hated how often they’d come. No matter what she did, no matter what she said, the two of them always ended up arguing. She’d always lose. She’d always be given a repulsed look and grumbled cusses as he’d walk away. Sometimes her parents would intervene and defend her, but they weren’t here right now.

She can’t keep letting herself get stepped on.

“Because you’re jealous, aren’t you?” She finally said, her voice still unsteady.

Sebastian’s body stiffened.

“Because you’re in your basement all day, staring at your--your stupid computer, pretending everyone doesn’t exist…” She breathed in, “And while you were sitting around, being angry, I was out there doing something. I’m actually getting somewhere! I actually have the chance for a successful future, I have potential, and you--you--y…”

The confidence she was finally building up had been shattered into millions of pieces as she watched Sebastian reach over to the knife block. When his fingers curled around and held the grip of the nearest knife, she felt her blood drain from her face.

The world had stopped. Maru had stopped. She couldn’t move. She only stood and waited, hoping Sebastian would let go, tell her he’s kidding, or for him to go outside to smoke, anything. Anything.

Sebastian began to turn his head in her direction, the hatred in his eyes burned greater than the flames in the depths of Hell. The more he kept turning his head, the louder her heart banged in her ears. Her horrifying hypnotic heartbeat was soon overtaken by a single thought booming in her head: He’s going to kill me.

Maru made a dash to the hallway, hearing her step-brother’s footsteps right on her tail as he started shouting a slew of curses and threats. She had never heard Sebastian shout in such a terrible tone in her entire life. Even during their absolute worst fights, his raised voice would sound pissed at most. But here? Now? He was screaming. There were moments where his voice would strain as he swung the knife she barely avoided, threatening to hack her head off. Whatever restraint he had built up over the years, whatever had kept him sane throughout the entirety of their relationship had been thrown out. All that remained was a man who looked like her step-brother screaming bloody murder, fueled by pure hatred, and wanting nothing more than to see her bleed.

Maru saw the door to her parents room on the right and instantly ran inside. She locked the door and took lungfuls of air, hot tears running down her face as she almost choked on her own spit.

The knob began to wriggle faster and faster until Sebastian resorted to banging and kicking. He’d slam his body against it, causing the door to budge and Maru’s life to flash before her eyes.

“OPEN THIS DOOR!” She heard him scream, “OPEN THIS DOOR, OPEN THIS DOOR! I’LL KILL YOU. I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”

He kept shouting those words and other horrible threats at her. She needed to get out.

She whipped her head around, hoping to find any possible escape route, but a pit began to form in her stomach as she realized she had trapped herself in her parents’ room. This wasn’t like her bedroom, there wasn’t another door that led outside, and the only window in here wasn’t big enough for her to crawl through.

The banging on the door grew louder, so did Sebastian’s yelling.

“YOU BITCH.” Sebastian threw himself against the door again.

She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t think straight. Block the door. She needs to block the door.

She saw two wooden chairs beside her parents’ bed that sat in the center of the room and grabbed one. She wedged the back of the chair underneath the doorknob, praying it’d be enough to hold back Sebastian.

She suddenly saw the blade of the knife jab through the crack of the door and watched it dragg up and down before being pulled back in. Whatever Sebastian was attempting to do didn’t go as planned; he resorted to charging against the door again, shouting, and now sporadically stabbing the door itself.

Maru would watch in horror as the blade made its way through the other side of the door with every other stab. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the door. She wanted to throw up.

“I HATE YOU.”

As Sebastian’s screaming and thrashing grew more and more voluminous, Maru backed herself against the wall, sat down, and brought her knees to her chest. She covered her ears, tears clouding her vision, as horrid thoughts and questions filled her mind. She remembered watching so many documentaries about serial killers with Penny, fascinated with how sick people could be. She never imagined her own step-brother would be the end of her.

“DO YOU HEAR ME?”

She wondered what it’d be like to have a knife plunged into her chest. Would it feel like a quick sting? Would it burn? Would her adrenaline prevent her from feeling anything at all, and she’d be stuck staring into her step-brother’s wild eyes? Would he drag out her demise? Or would he end her life as fast as possible?

“I HATE YOU.”

Maybe she deserves this. Maybe she should have treated him better. Maybe she could’ve tried harder. She should’ve kept her stupid mouth shut. She shouldn’t have said anything. None of this would’ve happened. Sebastian feels this way because of her. She deserves this. She deserves this. She’s going to die. She’s going to die.

She suddenly heard the front door open through Sebastian’s banging. Footsteps and muffled voices, which soon turned into shouting, grew near.

“Sebastian? Sebastian--oh my God, what are DOING!?” She heard her mom shout. Sebastian was rather too consumed with wanting to kill Maru, or no longer cared about the consequences, as his screaming and thrashing became more severe.

Demetrius’ shouting started clashing with Sebastian’s, and another, quieter male voice could be heard as well.

Sebastian’s ruckus came to an abrupt stop. He must’ve been pulled away from the door. She could hear his yelling, his legs kicking about, and--somehow--his knife swinging wildly.

Someone knocked on the door. “Maru, honey, are you in there?” Maru heard her mother ask through Sebastian and Demetrius’ shouting.

“It’s safe to come out,” Her mom said, “Dr. Harvey called the police. You’re going to be okay.”

Maru slowly got up and pulled the chair away. She cautiously unlocked the door and listened to the yelling grow louder as she opened the door more and more.

Maru was hoping seeing her mother would cause a wave of relief and security to wash over her, but Robin wore a false smile in a poor attempt to mask her fear, making Maru feel sicker.

Robin pulled her in for a tight hug and placed her hand on her head, whispering to Maru that they’re going to be okay, everything will be fine, it’s all over now.

Maru forced her head to the right and saw an enraged Demetrius and a terrified Harvey restraining both of Sebastian’s arms.

Sebastian had finally stopped shouting. He was sitting on the floor, panting through gritted teeth, tears running down his face, and staring at her with those horrible, loathsome eyes that wished to see nothing more than Maru’s demise.

[theinvisibledreamergirl]

Chap. 1: “The Beginning of Everything”

————————————

3 years ago: 14th of September 2017

“Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to my gem!

Happy birthday to you!”

His soft and playful voice made her giggle when he did an impression of a birthday wish because she knew that he hated to say it out loud.

“Thank you Mr. Standall.” She kissed his lips slowly not letting a yawn to break this blissful moment. “And that was a very good impression on how boyfriends want to make surprises to their girls.” She giggled while tracing with her right palm his grown beard that made her weak whenever it scratched.

“And I’m glad that made you smile.” He gave her a peck on her forehead while smiling aback.

“You always make me happy like no one else.”She said it in full acknowledgment and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving that sympathetic look that Alex knew too well. Whenever those words fell from her lips, he knew that she would get teary so he tried to lighten up the mood.

“Whoa Miss Craig, we haven’t still arrived to the part of being emotional.” He cupped her cheeks in full adoration. “And I haven’t brought your breakfast here yet so…” He got up from their bed while she was admiring at his sculpted body only in his underwear and was catching her lower lip thinking how handsome he was. He wore his shorts while doing another mimic of her while biting her lip knowing she had a soft spot. “Oh Al you’re so fucking handsome ma-”

Before he would finish the sentence, was met with a pillow on his face and a stern voice. “Get my breakfast here ‘cause I don’t want to die hungry.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.” He chuckled before bowed down while she was laughing at his poor attempt to be look like a 18th century gentleman but she didn’t care that much. Because her heart was so full and couldn’t be more thankful that he was by her side.

Present day: 14th of September 2020

She woke up from the irritating alarm of her iPhone while groaning loudly. She felt her body sweating on her sheets and knew that the dreams were still appearing in the middle of the night and were not giving her the peace she wanted. She had only been one week in Boston and was hating this city already. Crowded, disorganised, dirty and was nothing compared with Brighton or Washington. Even the great buildings that surrounded didn’t give her a slight awesomeness and rolled her eyes while some tourists were looking wonderfully and snapping selfies. It was 5 AM. She had a bad habit to wake up early in order to work out outside in the nature. Or better saying- somewhere far away from the flowers or trees that gave her allergies even though it was the fall season. But first she needed to change quickly her wet clothes before getting a cold. When she got up from her bed, was met with a wiggling tail and a huffing sound of her best friend- Jonah.

“Hey good morning buddy!” She kneeled down to him while he was licking her hands. “Yup we’re going outside but first mama needs a shower okay?” She kissed his head when he jumped on her bed waiting impatiently for his owner to finish.

She stripped off her clothes and didn’t want to give a spare glance to the scars in her forearms if she didn’t want to experience another breakdown. The warm temperature of the water cascading down her body was everything she needed and let out a content sigh. She mocked at her anti-grease shampoo for keeping her hair done only in two days.

“Bloody shampoos.”

She carefully rubbed the cores of her forearms with her sponge not letting to fall a single drop of blood while wincing. It was such annoying to wait for another year until they were regenerated completely and if not, she needed to undergo a plastic surgery in which she was worried about it.

This day was slightly different from what she’d been used to. It was her first day of work at a hospital after graduating with excellent grades from University College London and got an alumni award for her outstanding performance in saving five people’s lives (including her professor Dr. Sarah Bennett) doing solo operations without the practice and the leadership of an attending. And that’s why she chose Edenbrook Hospital but- with a bit lateness.

It was only three days ago that she got the acceptance e-mail from nonetheless the well known and the most respected diagnostician in the whole country Dr. Naveen Banerji. The reason was that she spent her summer holidays in Italy and wasn’t sure if she was ready to go back in USA almost four years after her parents died. But mostly she still was on search for the truth behind her grandmother’s unexpected death- Daisy Ahmad. A quest in which she hadn’t solved the mystery behind of it.

While putting on her Nike sneakers she took a brief look at the clock on the wall- 5:15 AM. She still had time until 7 AM to catch up for work so she whistled to the husky dog letting him know that they were ready to go- or not until she straightened up her back and raised her eyebrows while looking at the mirror.

“Mirror mirror on the wall, tell me... who’s the most badass woman here?” She chuckled at her poor joke. “Of course it’s me. Right Jonah?” He barked in approval tilting his head, showing his blue sky eyes to his owner’s. “That’s my boy.”

The hangout consisted of walking firstly, because Jonah always came the first into their priorities and sometimes she would call him the King Jonah I and if he would have children she’ll gladly call them Jonah II or JJ. Secondly, it was playing with him and doing some exercises to train him with what she had read in a recent book about huskies. Lastly, it was time for her to put her headphones on and listening to the great Arctic Monkeys band while running for an hour without breaks to the asphalt coastline. And Jonah was more than happy to follow his owner wherever she went.

Annoyed, after finishing her run, she totally forgot that she took a shower already but thankfully her hair was tied up in a ponytail so her tendrils weren’t at least wet. “We got sweaty again buddy huh?”

6:37 AM.

They finally made it back at her apartment and greeted the receptionist Billy for taking the morning shift. She kicked off her sneakers and went immediately to the bathroom to change again her sportswear and quickly finished her body shower. The breakfast consisted of baked bread, white cheese and fiches jam whereas for the husky dog were the raw meats and bones. While she was waiting for the slices of bread to be toasted, her eyes landed to his photograph placed in a black rectangular frame.

“Why Alex?” She whispered to herself and crossed her arms while tilting her head in one side. “Why are you still appearing in my dreams every night? What do you want to tell me?”

It became a monotonous thing for her to see the nightmares of the people who were gone now and the worse part was that they would always appear with unknown causes. Like her parents for example, died not because of a coincidental car accident- but a well-planned one- and after their case was solved, they didn’t appear anymore. She knew that her grandmother’s death was truly a devastating event for her and of course she needed to find the surgeon who took the responsibility to operate her. But what about Alex? She had no clue why this was happening but one thing was for sure... her PTSD wouldn’t stop if she didn’t find out the last parts to complete the puzzle.

After finishing her breakfast she wore her casual clothes despite her efforts in wearing a suit. She was so obsessed with them. Maybe if she becomes a resident... who knows what fate will bring for her? She shook her head in disbelief- she was going to work with Ethan Ramsey and was excited but stressed in the same time.

“My oh my... am I going to work now huh? What do you think buddy?”Jonah twirled around in excitement when his owner opened her arms to reveal the outfit. “You always have liked my style, haven’t you? Can you believe that I’m going to work with the attending who inspired me to be this doctor I am now? Nope, I can’t believe it too.” She chuckled wearily as her memories with Alex came back on her mind. How both of them were determined to be doctors and to be graduated in the same year, then going to their respective inspirational doctors who, for instance, both were in the same hospital- Dr. Ethan Ramsey and Dr. Simon Tennant.

“Y’know Jonah, I was thinking about how this Ethan Ramsey looks like because his face doesn’t appear anywhere. Like I’ve searched for him in any websites possible but no- he’s like an invisible man who has sealed every images of him. Even Simon doesn’t want to tell me and said that I would see him soon. What the hell? I mean can you imagine working with an old man and a grumpy one or who knows... maybe he’s a good one? He can’t be like those snarky and annoying attendees that have always appeared in the TV shows, right?” She twitched her lips in confusion and shrugged. “Whatever. Just wish me good luck.”

She grabbed his collar in the direction of the door but before that she glanced up to the photograph again. A hard lump was formed on her throat re-imagining the scene in which they could leave together but instead... she was going alone. A small and a sad smile tugged on her lips as if he was there too, smiling widely at her and wishing ‘good luck’ and giving a blow kiss while saying ‘I love you’.

Unfortunately the blue-eyed husky was cooing sadly after the owner left him to her neighbour Lola and her husband Mike and he really needed to fit into the new adjustment of lifestyle.

Klaw wanted so badly to drive her car to the hospital because she knew now all the streets of Boston but changed her mind in the last minute to go the metro line that wasn’t far away from her neighbourhood and it took at least 20 minutes. While she was seating in front of the window she opened her messages that popped up on her phone and she frowned in suspicion for who might’ve been. Then she chuckled softly. It was nonetheless than her friends.

Klaw scoffed.

Of course Imy would bring up those numbers as a reminder.

14.09.1995- her 25th birthday.

But she had already discussed with them to not wish her and to not make any presents despite Imy’s insistence to try to forget what happened two years ago that had wrapped their minds for a long time. But there wasn’t enough for forgetting and she still wasn’t ready to move on to another point of her life. She was afraid that if she believed in love again- she would lose it. Just like with Clay and Alex she didn’t want to experience another heartbreak or another trauma.

The great building of Edenbrook Hospital in the heart of Boston Massachusetts appeared in front of her now, where her life wouldn’t be the same again. She felt her quickened heartbeats and her tightened chest by the view and still couldn’t believe she was now a doctor. She shook her head in disbelief again while chuckling.

Well well Dr. Craig, seems like the beginning of everything to you, isn’t it? Just don’t try to kill anyone today. Keep your punches off to yourself.

Everyone were hurrying up and looked they were all in a moment of a rush. She took long stride steps while ogling to the new settlement which later she would call it home. Klaw could hear the urgency of nurses while taking IV’s with themselves to the patients, two doctors wheeling their patients who seemed to have done a transplant operation before, the receptionists talking to the phones and writing the names of those who wanted to leave a meeting with their doctors. Even though this gave her a lightened moment to truly appreciate, she felt lost and didn’t know where to go so she tilted her head to the sides almost panicking.

Is this how all of the interns have been before?

“Are you new here?”

A guy in violet scrubs asked her gently behind her back so she turned around only to see him smile.

“Uhm, yeah I am.”

“That’s pretty good! Are you our new nurse from Delaware?”

She chuckled. “No, actually I’m a surgical intern from London.”

“Oh, sorry.” He said sheepishly. “I’ve been asking all the new female faces here and all of them turned to be interns because we were waiting for a new internal nurse but seems like she’s vanished.” They both shared a laugh. “By the way my name’s Danny Cardinal.”

They shook their hands while nodding. “And I’m Klaudia Craig but please call me Klaw instead ‘cause there’s a loooong story about that.”

“Klaudia Craig... just give me a second to check the list.” Danny run his index finger while murmuring her name until he flipped the other page and her name was the last. “Ha! I found you... Klaudia Helena Craig, the tick is in the box. If I’m right you’re the last doctor who has applied here?”

“Uhm, yeah.” She let out a nervous laugh and scratched the back of her neck. “I actually wasn’t sure about this place to apply but- here I am.”

“Well because of Dr. Delarosa’s absence for the moment I’ll do you a quick guide.”

Danny was such a nice guy and now the first friend Klaw made in this hospital. She could see his cheeks flushed sometimes when he made eye contact with her and later he admitted that this year strangely all the new interns were so attractive. With her back-bag in one shoulder she entered the closet room to change her clothes to green scrubs until she saw a woman in her underwear. Embarrassed that she may be interrupting her, made a quick motion of closing her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sorry I’m truly sorry!” She waved her hand awkwardly and she thought that was such clueless move.

“It’s alright you can open your eyes.” Her accent let Klaw know that she could be somewhere from India. When she opened her eyes- damn it. Danny wasn’t lying that everyone were attractive. She was the greatest example of a hot woman. “And please don’t you know that this is a closet room or what?” She scoffed. “Are you shy?”

Klaw scoffed aback when her last words teased her. “No, but I don’t think I can invade someone’s privacy and that’s disrespectful y’know... maybe you were doing other things rather than changing clothes.”

“Alexa play “The Final Countdown” by Europe for Jackie Varma getting her butt roasted!” Klaw flinched when a half-naked guy barked in laughter. “I’m feeling sorry for you now Jackson.”

“Shut up Lahela!”

“So my prediction was right.” Klaw nodded slowly in acknowledgement thanks to her observation skills, she could see Jackie’s messed hair despite her efforts to put a proper bun whereas the guy named Lahela had a small glitter on the corner of his lips. And she couldn’t feel any prouder.

“You got a smart mouth sweetie don’t you?” Jackie challenged her by inching dangerously close, their faces mere inches apart. Klaw smirked knowingly and slowly lowered her head.

“I do and you should actually be afraid of me, darling.”

Jackie was caught off guard despite her efforts of staying neutral. This girl was so gorgeous and such a smart ass, she thought. She was wondering how her full lips would fit into hers and how her body would arch in the wall while doing to her the most nasty things. And when she got that look- god she thought- she looked even more sexy.

Stop it Jackie.

“I like this girl, she’s just my type.” Lahela added. “Can we please have a threesome?”

“Bryce!” Jackie shouted angrily. “That’s enough!”

So his name is Bryce.

Klaw felt her jaw tightening even though she knew that he was just messing with them. “Only in your dreams big boy.”

“Ouch you are hurting my feelings right now. Look, no one can resist my handsome face... and not even you pretty.”

“I’ll show you pretty when you’ll see yourself with your broken bones.” Klaw smiled wickedly.

“Who’s roasted now huh?”Jackie laughed while Bryce was left mouth gaped from this statement. He didn’t think that someone as beautiful as this girl could reject him in one click. She wouldn’t do that, right? Bryce Lahela had never been refused by any of the girls he encountered with- not even from boys who had tried to have an affair with him. This is was the first defeat he got slapped by and it looked like this first day was going to be a hell. But when he looked deeply in the dark and fiery brown eyes of that lady, he had hopes that she wasn’t a bad person. Maybe she was trying to shove him off or who knew... maybe it was a game plan and for that, he wanted to know more of her.

Be careful Bry. ‘Cause this girl is going to be harder than it looks like. What is she doing to me?

“Whilst I appreciate your words Varma I think we should let this girl present herself, right?”

“This time I agree with you.” Jackie was well aware of his changing of subject and in a brief moment she saw the hot guy going pale and silently thought that he had fallen for her. Yuck.

Klaw smiled. “Okay people I’m Dr. Klaudia Craig, a surgical intern with one condition- only if you call me Klaw.”

“Another scalpel jockey here?” Jackie let out her tongue in disgust. “Ewww.”

“Hell yeahhh.” Klaw rolled her eyes while Bryce was offering his hand to shake hers. “Dr. Bryce Lahela graduated at the top of the class 2020 from Harvard University and selected as the best face from all the nerds around the campus with one condition-” he kissed the back of her hand before winking “-be mine already.”

“As tempting as it may be Dr. Lahela I’m afraid I’m not the first one in your flirting list hm?”

Two can play that game, right? Bryce’s cheeks turned to a light pink as if he felt- embarrassed? Why did this girl make him feel like that? What was her real intention? One thing was for sure- she was different and mysterious. Before he could reply Jackie cut him off.

“Shit! Time is ticking! We must go immediately, the whole atrium is expecting us!”

“Who?” Klaw asked confused and with that expression made Jackie eyeing her incredulously.

“Do you live on earth or what? The doctors, our attendees, our bosses!” Klaw nodded slowly in acknowledgment since she was right. She lived in Moon. “Hurry up, we need to change!”

All of the interns were gathered as they were waiting for the attendees to come at any minute. Lots of unknown faces were about to work together in this place and lots of things were going to change forever their lives. Daniel Griffin appeared among them giving Klaw a small smile but also a relieved one. He still was worried with the yesterday’s incidence where she fought with some random street girls and almost she was caught by the police. He couldn’t ask her if she was okay because she wouldn’t tell him anyway so the only thing that caught his attention was that she was coming with other two strange guys. Not long after that his girlfriend Imy joined them and greeted with a warm smile that always crossed on her face which was why Dan fell in love with her. Again Jackie was disappointed that they were other scalpel jockeys and couldn’t wait to meet colleagues on her profile. The attendees were coming towards them with an assurance and a determination that Klaw felt a shiver on her spine. She spotted her brother (her guardian angel) Simon beside a woman who seemed to be a very important person in the hospital alongside with four other doctors whom Klaw tried to guess if one of them was Ethan Ramsey with the exception of the curly woman.

Or tried to guess- who was the surgeon she was looking after all these years?

“May I have your attention please?” The curly woman spoke up, trying her best to keep her calmness while everyone were speaking aloud until another grunting voice made them startled and turn their heads to them.

“Will you shut your fucking mouths and listen now?!”

Silence.

A genuine and a grateful smile came from the woman mouthing to the man her ‘thank you’ and he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Welcome to Edenbrook Hospital everyone! You have come a long way to be in this place and you have to always remind the Hippocrates  Oath: ‘Do no harm’ which is going to be the first thing that comes to your minds. My name is Dr. Ines Delarosa and by my side is Dr. Zaid Mirani, your senior residents who will guide you in every step of the way.”

“Do not consider this as a favour because if you do, then you have to forget your big sacrifices to come here.”

When Zaid almost chewed them with his sentence, Ines tried to lighten up the mood. “But also we’re not the only doctors here- please welcome our surgeons Dr. Harper Emery, Dr. Simon Tennant and Dr. Edgar Allen!”

The speech was started by Harper who stood between the males giving her the authority that she deserved as she looked intensely to every intern.

“Thank you Dr. Delarosa. Again welcome to the most prestigious and the most competitive hospital in our country! I hope all of you have been prepared for this day and for more to come. I’m delighted to work as a neurosurgeon to help and to teach you how important is and what it means to be a surgeon. Mostly about our surgical interns- you will be tasked with a lot of cases from the easiest ones to the most complicated ones. And you have to remind yourselves that you must not neglect any patient because they are all equal and they need the same treatments. I think the doctors would agree-” her eyes flicked immediately to Simon’s, ignoring Edgar’s purposely. “- right?”

“Yes Dr. Emery especially after this looong speech everyone here is more motivated, right?” He mocked playfully while Harper was rolling her eyes.

You'll never change Simon.

“Hi! I’m Dr. Tennant as Dr. Delarosa previously mentioned and I’m a cardio thoracic surgeon, currently the chief of Cardiology Department. Which means that if you notice your heart quickening its heartbeats or if you notice that is breaking into two halves- feel free to swing by my office or in the O.R to fix it.” A laughter was heard among the interns who seemed to be more relaxed and many whispers said that he was going to be their God’s sent angel- which clearly he was. “Jokes aside- this year was the most difficult time to choose the ones you are here because of competitiveness and the strong knowledge you came from your universities, ranked at the top of your classes. What I want to say is- nothing is impossible. Everything can be achieved with work and passion for medicine if you feel it here.” He patted his chest lightly. “But if not-” he shook his head even though his smile didn’t disappear. “- then you weren’t ready for these days.”

A knowing look crossed Klaw’s face; she knew where his limits were when it came to being professional especially in medicine. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone who made unacceptable mistakes and everyone would see his worst side and wonder how this man could change so quickly- something that she was used to.

“Alright.” Harper was nodding and giving an eye to everyone and turned her gaze to the older man. “Do you want to add something Dr. Banerji?”

That’s when Ines realised that she had totally forgotten to mention Dr. Banerji’s name because of Zaid’s distraction.

So he’s Dr. Naveen Banerji- the person who accepted my application.

“Yes, thank you Harper. Well, hello everybody, for all of those who don’t know me yet- I’m Dr. Naveen Banerji the Chief of Medicine, but my real job is general surgeon which I’m very good at it rather than being a chief.” He chuckled and Klaw thought this man was truly like a father to all the interns. “I’m very happy that we have chosen the best students for our non-profit hospital and especially those who’ve already done a big difference during medical school.” Klaw didn’t notice it as Bryce whispered in her ear but Naveen gave her a briefing look before he continued what he was saying. “I hope everyone will get themselves accommodated, making new relationships uh-I meant strictly professional and friendly partnerships.” Everyone shared a laugh. “What I want to say is- if you want to be successful to your job you must at first be humans. If you want to understand the patients you must understand yourselves. And finally as Dr. Ramsey would say you should observe everyone.” Again it was heard a big laughter as he did an impression on him. “Anyways, you will have the chance to know him, now I must go back to work as you should do the same. Have a nice day doctors! We’re expecting the best from you.”

“Thank you Dr. Banerji!” When Naveen and Harper left another attending came in front of the other doctors- Dr. Edgar Allen.

“So, I think now that we have done our pleasantries, I’d like to call the surgical interns names to assign their cases whereas you internal medicine will be assigned under Dr. Delarosa’s and Dr. Mirani’s. Understood?”Everyone nodded and from the looks of it he was the harshest doctor they have encountered by far, leaving Zaid out of the black list.

“I despise this man so much.” Zaid grumbled under his breath enough for Ines to hear it.

“Don’t worry Zaid.” She assured him again with that infectious smile which made him less angry than he was. “He’s always like that. We can’t change someone’s personality hm?” He nodded in agreement.

Before calling the names Simon came closer to Edgar clearly not liking the way he was prodding.

“Shouldn’t you be less grumpy among them? It’s their first day and they don’t deserve this kind of treatment.”

“Hmph. Or what else is going to happen Dr. Tennant? I’m really curious about it ‘cause right now I’m shaking from your concern for such minions.”

Simon felt his narrowed eyes dagger in Edgar’s saying in a hushed tone. “Watch your language Dr. Allen and may I remind you where did your internship start huh?”

“Mass Kenmore.”

“Exactly. So if it wasn’t for Dr. Thorne’s insistence because you saved his life- your ass wouldn’t even reach in this position without him.” Edgar clenched his teeth in frustration knowing fully well that everything what Simon was saying was true. “Now you can continue doctor.”

With that Simon trailed off without sparing a glance to the worried look of interns noticing their little exchange not knowing what was said between them.

Klaw kept wondering where actually Dr. Ethan Ramsey was as he didn’t show up and was nowhere to be seen until Ines answered the same question raised by another intern who seemed to be just as curious as her.

“About Dr. Ramsey, we’re expecting him to come today from the Miami’s conference, so you don’t have to worry- you’ll meet him soon.” She assured the shy blonde guy who seemed to be more relieved now.

But still Klaw had gears on her mind about it if Dr. Ramsey would be present.

And how do we say it?

Some things happen in the most unexpected ways.

———————————————————————

Chapter 2: “First Impressions”

[hardforbenhardy]

drumming lessons | rogerxreader

summary: you were a very emotional drunk. and also a very embarrassing, chatty, and overbearing one too. drunk + studio + pent up feelings do not = good idea. 

warnings: swearing, drinking, minimal references to sex near the end

word count: 4.5k

been working on this one for a while and have only just finished - oops :) hope you enjoy!!

“Darling, I’m just saying that if you were to put yourself out there, you could do much better than that poor excuse for a gentleman!” Freddie exclaimed, stubbing out the end of his cigarette in the ashtray before him and pointing his finger accusingly towards the blonde man before you. The same blonde man who you had happily been in a relationship with for the past 2 years. You chuckled loudly in response to Freddie’s statement; you loved how Freddie always stood up for you if there was even the tiniest disagreement between you and Roger. And, as expected, you were in a squabble with your boyfriend, and as expected, Freddie was siding with you.

“Fuck off, Fred!” he almost whined, seemingly afraid that you would take Freddie’s advice and find someone better. As much as he loved Fred, he really did, there were moments between the couple and certain things Freddie did that just set his resentment off the scales. Especially considering he knew how close you and Freddie were, so you had every right and reason to follow his instructions. “You two are taking this completely out of the fucking context! I have literally done nothing wrong! Brian, back me up on this-”

“I refuse to get involved in this” 

“Fred, I may just have to take you up on your offer; take me to a strip club and find me a man who will actually have some fun with his girlfriend!” you quipped, taking a long sip of your glass of wine and being so tipsy that you practically fell into Freddie’s side from laughing too much. Though, to say you were tipsy was an absolute under exaggeration. Evening sessions in the studio often resulted in you and Freddie, sometimes Roger when you weren’t siding against him, and even John and Brian from time to time, getting drunk and pissing around because the band had simply began to despise them. It was, you supposed, a form of relief for the boys as you understood the music industry was stressful so why couldn’t you have fun every now and then? 

“You have to be fucking kidding me… look, babe you’re just drunk, and it’s getting very late; why don’t we head back, and we can go to bed?” Roger questioned, in a soft and calming voice as he squatted to be level with you as you hunched over, sat in what would be considered quite an ‘unladylike’ position. He was trying to be civil, trying not to let his anger at the two of you get the best of him, trying to get you to listen to him; but Brian and John could both tell in his tone that he was just simply sick and tired of your acting out. You certainly were a whiney, childish drunk and all the boys knew it. He took your hand in his and rubbed his thumb gently against the soft skin of your palm, in hopes you would notice his utter desperation to just get you in bed. His intentions meaning sleep, though your drunk mind immediately turned them dirty. You pushed him backwards with your foot, rather harshly; so harshly, in fact, that he ended up falling flat on his arse and release a small grunt from the pain. Of course, all the other boys burst into laughter; even Brian and John, who had not had a mere drop of alcohol enter their system. 

“Roger Meddows Taylor, you dirty dog, what do you take me for?” You laughed, slurring pretty much every single word that left your mouth. You now found yourself on his level, trying to almost patronize him and pointing your finger into his chest “I am not, I repeat not, letting you fuck this until you teach me to play the fucking drums!”

Your last words were practically whined at the top of your voice, acting completely immature for a woman of your age and usual sober-maturity. Brian and John both snickered rather loudly after realising the actual reason you were arguing. 

“That’s what this is about? Because you won’t teach her the drums?” John questioned, making Roger sigh loudly and pull himself off the floor, as well as you; meaning you and Roger were stood rather close, his hands on your waist, mainly to avoid you falling to the floor. In a moment of drunk hope, you reached behind him to take his arse in your hands and squeeze tightly; making him release a sound that you could only describe as a combination of a yelp and a groan. Of course, everyone else in the room burst out into laughter, as Roger just felt his cheeks growing redder and redder; he didn’t know whether it was from the embarassment or frustration of the situation. 

“You know that’s not what I meant, Y/N, please just come home with me”

“Drums.” you insisted, not letting it go, because you knew Roger would most definitely surrender and give you what you want. Well, at least you hoped. At this point, you could not give two shits about actually playing the drums; you just wanted to do something with Roger that you could bond with him over. You didn’t understand why Roger didn’t want to teach you, you were only asking to learn drums; it wasn’t like you were asking him something outrageous. 

“Please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is; you need rest”

“Drums.” 

“Mate, just teach her the drums? I don’t see why that’s such a bad idea” Brian interrupted, earning a grimace from Roger. What everyone didn’t know was Roger would happily teach you the drums; he loved the idea of his girlfriend being able to drum (the idea was rather attractive to him, he couldn’t deny). Though, he was extremely exhausted, overworked, and worn out; he just wanted to sleep. 

“Keep out of this Brian; I thought you refused to ‘get involved’” he came back with, and everyone could notice him rising in hostility with every second passing by and every word said. He couldn’t help it; he felt like everyone was siding against him. Everyone was laughing at him, mocking him, standing with you rather than him; every little thing you did to taunt him was earning laughs from the other 3 boys and he was sick of it. No matter how much he loved you, you were acting like a whiny little brat and he couldn’t take it any longer. So with your next words, he caved in. 

“D. R. U. M. S. Drums” you slurred, dragging out each letter and leaving pauses. Your face was practically hovering in front of Rogers, inches from making contact, and Roger could feel your warm, alcohol breath hitting his skin. He snapped, grabbing your wrist and pulling you firmly towards his drum kit on the risers at the back of the studio. The 3 boys were now looking up at the two of you, fear rising in their system at how angry he seemed.

“Fine, you want to learn the drums, here we go. That’s the bass, snare, hi-hat, toms, crash cymbal and ride cymbal.” he instructed, pointing out each part of the drum as he said the name and sat himself down on the stool. He gripped his drumsticks, so harshly that his knuckles were fluctuating between a pale white and a crimson red. You could feel yourself regretting this as every second passed by; you hadn’t meant for him to get this angry. “I’m going to play Another One Bites the Dust, and you’re going to watch. Best way to learn the drums is to observe and copy” 

You didn’t want to answer, so you just nodded and hummed ‘mhm’. He began playing, banging out each beat that somehow came together so well and yet you could not keep up. His foot was moving at some points, his left hand the others, but his right hand was always hitting the hi-hat; you were attempting to follow but you were sure that even sober, you wouldn’t have been able to understand what he was doing. He was playing with such force, you were sure he was going to pierce the drumstick right through the mylar of the drums; he had sweat dripping down his forehead, and his arms were getting more and more sore every second. Fear struck through you when he finally stopped, and you realised you were not paying attention at all; not only was your vision completely blurred (thanks to the alcohol coursing through you) but the deafening thuds and clangs were sending searing pains to your head. He pushed himself off the stool and obliged you onto it, holding out the drumstick right in front of your face, waiting for you to take them. The three other boys remained speechless as you sent them a look of panic, as if you were pleading them to get you out of the situation you had stupidly got yourself into. He wiggled them in front of your face when you still hadn’t taken them from his grip, so you reluctantly took the hint. You didn’t even know where to start; you readied your foot against the bass-drum pedal, you held the drumsticks loosely in your hands, you had crossed your arms over each other. But you were struck clueless, you had absolutely no idea where to go next. 

“Well, fucking play then” Roger commanded, his voice making you jump as you didn’t quite expect it; the drumming sounds still ringing loudly in your ears. You couldn’t help but notice how bitter Roger really was through his tone; he was absolutely pissed off at you. You kept your eyes away from his face, you couldn’t bear to make eye contact with your boyfriend as you were panic-stricken of how he would react if you did. That didn’t mean you couldn’t feel his gaze searing into your skin as he stared you down. You played a test beat on the hi-hat, and it sent an ear splitting echo through your ears, which was when you realised that you hadn’t got your other foot on the pedal for it. “Eight counts off the hi-hat. Every 1 and 5, hit the bass. Every 3 and 7 hit the snare. It’s not fucking hard Y/N, and since you were so eager to learn them, you’d think you’d be able to fucking do it” 

Your brain played over the words and tried to make sense of them; Hi-hat = 8 counts. Bass on 1 and 5, Snare on 3 and 7. What the fuck was a count? Why were there so many numbers? Why are there other parts of the drum if you don’t use them? And Why had he picked such a fucking difficult song? 

You attempted the beat, trying to use your foot and both hands at the same time, doing 8 counts on the hi-hat. Though, nothing pieced together; you found your foot going at the same beat as your right hand, and your left hand playing at completely sparse moments. You didn’t understand how Roger made it seem so utterly natural when your body just wasn’t accepting of the idea that your leg and hands shouldn’t be moving at the same time. You cringed at the atrocity of your playing, and you noticed the other boys do it as well. 

“Very abstract playing, darling” Freddie smiled, trying to make you feel at least a little more confident, but you only sent a glare in his direction. You regretted everything; the drinking, the nagging, the drumming. You wanted to go home, and go to bed; just like Roger suggested. 

“Is there anything easier I can play, Rog? I-”

“Is that a joke? That was fucking easy, Y/N; that’s one of the easiest fucking Queen songs there is on drums. Maybe if you had just listened to what I had to say before, this wouldn’t have happened; but no, you insisted you wanted to play the drums. So now we’re all stuck here having to listen to your shit drumming. I knew you wouldn’t be able to fucking play them!” Roger practically roared, and he felt the extreme urge to just kick his drum kit off the risers and storm out of the room. Though, you instead took that opportunity; bar the wrecking his extremely expensive drum kit. The moment went so fast, but you could not bear to be in the room with him; you felt an unforeseen wave of guilt wash over you and you were struggling to hold back the stream of tears. So you left the room, locking yourself in the closest closet you could find, just as long as it wasn’t the studio, you didn’t care. Shit drumming. I knew you wouldn’t be able to play them. Fucking easy. Of course it was easy, for him, he’s played drums nearly all his life. 

What you were most sorry about was the fact that you knew it was your fault; you should have listened to what he said. You should have just gone home and gone to bed. You couldn’t get angry at Roger for getting angry at you, because you didn’t blame him. You were a complete bitch to him, and he held out for as long as he could without reacting; you were the one who pushed him over the edge because you didn’t want to back down in front of the other boys. You did find it humorous at one point, but now you just wished you could turn back time and decline Freddie’s offer of a whole bottle of wine. 

After a few minutes of silently sobbing into your hands, curled in a ball on the floor of the closet, you heard a soft knock at the door and a small whisper.

“Y/N, baby, I’m so fucking sorry; please can I come in?” his voice was muffled by the thickness of the door but you didn’t need to hear it twice to recognise the voice. You pulled yourself off the floor, wobbling a little as you were still rather intoxicated, though you were in much more of a hangover state now. After pulling down the handle, the door opened with much more force than you remembered it usually did, but that was only because Roger was so impatient to get in and comfort you. At first, he wasn’t actually sure if you were upset about the whole situation, but the moment he saw your rosy, mascara-stained cheeks coated in tears, he felt his heart snap in two. “I’m so sorry for snapping out there, I was a dick-“

“N-no, Roger, I-I’m sorry…” you mumbled, your voice cracking after practically every word. The constant sniffling and your sore throat made it difficult to even speak but you pushed through; you had to redeem yourself. “I-I was a complete bitch and I should’ve just listened to you when you suggested we go home but I-I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of the boys and back down. I… you had every right to get angry at me, I’m not mad at you-“ 

You were cut off from your rambling by the sensation of Rogers lips pressed forcibly against yours in a moment of passion. You got so lost in his touch against yours that by the time the two of you had split, you had practically forgotten what you were saying just moments before. Your eyes met with Rogers, and all you could see in them was mounds of desperation, tears peaking at the corners. Why was he upset? 

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” you asked, utter confusion clouding your mind as you tried to figure out how Roger was infuriated only seconds ago and now was treating you like the most fragile piece of glass. 

“No, no I’m sorry, so sorry. I-I shouldn’t have snapped in there, I was trying so hard to avoid making a scene. Y-you did nothing wrong, you were just having fun…” 

“Why didn’t you want to teach me? Did you really think I was going to be shit?” you questioned; you knew the answer, but you just wanted to confirm it. You yourself didn’t think very highly of yourself, so you understood Roger wouldn’t either. Though that didn’t mean you still didn’t have at least a glimpse of hope.

“I-uh… love, I’m sorry I said that. I was stressed as hell, have been all week. I didn’t think you were going to master it, of course I didn’t, but I swear I didn’t mean to say you were shit. I mean you were drunk, I was barely teaching you, and you have never even picked up a pair of drumsticks before.” Roger's voice was merely there, and you could barely make out the small chuckle at the end of his words, so you giggled too. You were now cuddled, not a gap of air between the two of you as you curled into his lap; your arms wrapped tightly around his waist so he knew not to let you go. His hand stroked through your knotted hair, the other was placed softly against the small of your back to hold you up. “And as for not wanting to teach you; I swear that’s not true. In fact, it’d be an absolute dream to teach you drums; you’d be so fucking sexy. I-I, I just haven’t been up for even playing them myself recently. Working in the studio every day, I feel overworked and completely drained of all energy. It was nothing to do with you, I just simply want to get some decent sleep”

“I-I’m sorry for not taking you into consideration; if you had mentioned it earlier, I wouldn’t have drank and we could have just gone home. Or I’m sure the boys would have understood if you took the day off. You could all do with a break from the studio” you sniffled, mumbling into his neck as you felt him nod in agreement. He knew you were right, he should have told you when you both woke up; you would have protested but all he needed to say was that he hadn’t been sleeping and you would have practically forced him back into bed, whether he liked it or not. He just didn’t want to ruin the bands chance of getting this album released; they were so close to releasing their new album, The Game, and it only needed a few more touches so Roger didn’t want to make the process any longer. 

“I know, I know. Why were you so eager to learn them? You’ve never shown interest before?”

“W-well, I just… wanted to spend some time with you and-” you explained, trying to convince Roger that you were telling the truth; though he noticed you weren’t. He had developed a skill of understanding your every emotion; and in this example, your nose would always scrunch up when you lied.

“Y/N, tell the truth”

“F-fine, truth is I saw John teaching Ronnie how to play the bass the other day, and I couldn’t help but notice how happy they were; I just wanted to bond with you, spend time with you, have fun with you. They looked so… perfect. We don’t do romantic things like that. And I wanted to. Also, I can’t help but feel useless around here; everyone has a place but me. Freddie sings, John plays bass, Brian plays guitar, you play drums, Ronnie is the resident ‘food and coffee collector’ and Chrissie helps Miami with management sometimes. I have literally no business being in the studio other than sitting and waiting for you. So, I thought if I could play drums, I might be able to come up with some beats for new songs…” you explained, feeling yourself begin sob again at the feeling you had previously suppressed. You hadn’t had to voice it before now, but saying it out loud makes you realise just how pathetic you sounded to yourself. That wasn’t to say you were wrong about it though. 

“Oh lovie, you are not useless; I’m so sorry you feel that way. You don’t need a reason to be at the studio.” he comforted, pulling you impossibly closer than you already were and rubbing his hand along your back. He had never really considered your relationship ‘unromantic’ - to him, you were all he needed to feel loved and that was romantic enough. But he understood your point; you weren’t all lovey-dovey, especially around the boys. And he had never really considered the fact you didn’t have a purpose around the studio because you didn’t need one. The boys absolutely loved you, and your company made their day. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve always thought your job around here is to cheer everyone up because you always seem to do that with your presence”

“You really think so? I’ve always thought I’m just a burden” you sniffled, pulling your face away from his chest as looking up at him with doe-eyes. He couldn’t help but admire how pretty you were, even in this state; drunk and heartbroken. 

“I absolutely think so; you don’t need a purpose around here. Look, I would love to teach you drums when I’m not so exhausted; maybe we can set something up in the week? But for now, I think we should go home, and sleep. Please” he begged, another large yawn coming out his mouth. You nodded, trying to stand up without passing out from the alcohol poisoning your system, with Roger giving you a hand. 

It was safe to say you both slept like logs that night.

*****

Roger had looked everywhere, but he still hadn’t found you; you had planned to meet in the studio for your first drumming lesson, but you were yet to turn up. Bored out of his mind, he took a stroll through the different rooms in the building in search for a cigarette he could steal, when he came across a room he’d been yet to explore. He hoped it was a room of Freddie’s, because he would’ve been certain to find something in there to do. 

Walking in, he noticed the room was far too bland to be anything to do with Freddie, otherwise it would have grand costumes and colourful posters plastered over the wall. In fact, it looked like a room a bunch of girls would sit in and gossip. Which allowed him to whittle it down to a room you, Ronnie and Chrissie (maybe even Jim sometimes) would come to gossip in whilst the boys recorded. When he was about to leave, he noticed a small book on the coffee table in the centre of the room. It looked quite small, but it had definitely been used as the edges were tattered and the pages were brimming with post-its and other inserts. Being the curious little shit he is, he took a sneak to see what was inside.

As he opened it, his brain immediately clicked that this was some kind of ‘songbook’, presuming it was one of the boys who had been working on new material. Though the handwriting was way too familiar to pass down, the curves of the h’s and the flicks of the y’s; this was your handwriting. Your book. Your songs? Skimming over the lyrics to the first song he saw, titled ‘Radio Ga Ga’

I'd sit alone and watch your light

My only friend through teenage nights

And everything I had to know

I heard it on my radio

Reading the words, he could already imagine the beat of the drums and the way Freddie’s voice would sound singing the song; he thought it was genius. He read through the whole song, picking out certain lines he could change or his personal favourites. He also couldn’t help but recognise the fact that the whole chorus sounded a little like something his son had said a few days earlier when you were feeding him his breakfast and listening the radio. 

“Roger?” he heard his name being shouted from the studio, instantly recognising your voice and going to find you (carrying the book with him). He met you in the room, seeing that you had Felix in one arm and a shopping bag in the other. “I-I’m sorry I was late, John said he’s look after Felix while I did the shopping but he and Ronnie came down with the flu, and Brian is at some astrophysics lecture, and Freddie on some romantic holiday with Jim for the weekend as you know so I had to take him shopping with me- where did you find that?”

“In your secret little room you and the girls seem to have. Why didn’t you show me this? Some of these songs are amazing, Y/N!” Roger enthused, taking the little boy out your arms so you could relieve yourself of the heavy baggage. You raised your eyebrow in disbelief of his words; they weren’t that good. 

“You really think? They’re just some shit I write when Ronnie and Chrissie are busy chatting about the boys in bed, so I don’t have to join the conversation.”

“I know Y/N. That first one, Radio Ga Ga, could be a major hit. I could hear it in Freddie’s voice in my head, in fact I think I might already have the tune. Listen” he seemed extremely excited about it, rushing over to the keyboard to play the chords. You sang the words along as he played, your son joining in when it came to the ‘Radio Ga Ga’ with his own interpretation; the same one he had said in the kitchen a few days ago. You and Roger both laughed at Felix’s cheering, Roger kissing him on the cheek and going to give you a hug. 

“Roger, that sounds amazing!” 

“Well, I could’ve hardly done it without your songwriting. I’m serious YN, you should pitch some of these to the boys. Like that Hammer to Fall, and I Want To Break Free - the boys would love them!” 

“O-Okay. I will. I guess if I’m such an amazing songwriter, I don’t need to learn the drums” you giggled, snatching your book back off Rog to put in your bag. 

“Mhm, I think you could still learn them; just the idea of you on them gets me going” he winked, wrapping his arm around your waist and burying his face into your neck. He wasn’t lying, and you could tell because he was only this touchy when he wanted something. 

“Not while Felix is here!” you chuckled, patting him on the back and pointing towards your child who, while completely oblivious to you and Roger, was plucking at the strings of John’s bass, which you were thankful was not plugged in. 

You caved in to Rogers demands, and learning the drums wasn’t as hard as you expected. As long as you weren’t drunk, and Roger wasn’t exhausted. 

[lovebitesimagines]

Dangerous Love- Failure.

So...you guys are definitely gonna want to have some tissues at the ready when you read this!

Masterlist.

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Tag list: @happyhostforsymbiotes @namelesslosers @brianaisasongbird @crazymofos021 @lifetimeofadventue @itsmissdahliahayward @1opinionshared @unrulyhealy @frootloop311 @amywhatsherface @thinkingsofamadwoman @shadow-of-wonder @anytimebitches @crazyonesarethebest @christinawxxx @biba3434 @onlythechicagoway @zazasblogxx 

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Warnings: VERY. FUCKING. EMOTIONAL. OKAY.

A confession comes hand in hand with heartbreak.

  YOUR POV

Your eyes felt heavy, weighed down with slumber that seemed to avoid you whenever you got close. The small moments of sleep you had manage to snatch, had been plagued with nightmares. You would only blink, and suddenly you were faced with a man pointing a rifle right at you. You had no time to scream, given no opportunity to make a sound, before the trigger had been pulled. The memory of the bullet tearing through your skin, had brought you crashing back to Earth. Your screams would ring out through the room, as Alfie would wrap his arms around you, attempting to soothe your panic.            

 You were curled up on the armchair, placed within a darkened corner of the room. The shadows provided you with some form of solace, as your eyes wearily took in the goings on around you. Alfie sat at the dining table in front of you, the members of your family around him. Tommy had called a family meeting, and despite Alfie’s protests, you had insisted on being in the room when it took place. Although now, you had begun to regret it. Exhaustion had made your body feel more battered and bruised, than it already was.            

A hint of a smile played upon your lips, as you took note of how out of place Alfie looked surrounded by your family. His shoulders where hunched over slightly, his large frame placed in between John and Arthur. You had noticed how your brothers had seemed to warm towards him, in the past few days, and for that you were grateful. You knew it hadn’t been easy on Alfie, seeing you in such a state. Pol had told you that they couldn’t get him to leave your side, in the days that you had laid asleep, his eyes forever watching over you. Guilt had continuously bubbled away in your stomach, since you had found out how much the shooting had affected your family.           

 It had affected everybody but one.           

 Tommy.            

You knew that he hadn’t bothered to visit you after the shooting, instead opting to hide away in his office. It had hurt you, knowing that the brother you had thought so highly off, hadn’t made the effort to check that you were okay. He had changed, ever since the news of your relationship with Alfie had come to light. His moods where far darker, with even John and Arthur making every effort to avoid him. It was strange, the transformation in him that no one could help but notice.           

 A low hum of voices rang throughout the room, your ears catching a few words from the strangely polite conversations that were taking place. The variety of noises all mingled into one, caused your temples to dully throb, a lack of sleep catching up on you. You shifted slightly in your seat, wincing quietly as you felt the stitches stretch with your movements. You hugged your knees close to your chest, closing your eyes for a brief moment. Silence suddenly fell upon the room, causing your eyelids to flutter open in curiosity.            

 Tommy.Your brother had always held the power of commanding a frightened silence across the population of Small Heath. Strangers were often aware of his reputation, long before they had the chance to meet him. He demanded respect from everyone who crossed his path, the only exception to the rule being you and your family. The Shelbys’ had no issue with putting Tommy in his place, which was why the quiet that had cloaked the room upon his arrival, was unnerving.             

You glanced at your family, a concerned frown beginning to crease between your brows. The tension that had manifested in the room was unmistakable, the air quickly becoming heavy with a thick hostility. Pairs of eyes followed Tommy as he made his way to the front of the room, each holding a similar expression.             

Anger.

“S’pose you’re all wonderin’ why I called you here today” Tommy announced to the room, lowering himself onto his chair. His face held the same, cold arrogance that it always had, a feature that you had gotten used too. Yet there was something different in his eyes, his cold blue orbs possessing an uncharacteristic hint of worry.

“Just get it over with Tommy” Arthur grunted, his eyes focused upon the table in front of him.

“You may notice we have a new member here today” Tommy ignored Arthur, giving a curt nod in Alfies’ direction, placing a cigarette in between his lips to light. “Not that I had much choice in the matter”.           

 The frown upon your forehead deepened at Tommys’ words. His unjustifiable insolence was beginning to wear thin on you. You noticed Alfie shifting uncomfortably in his seat, the chair far too small for him to be placed upon. 

“Thank ya’ for the invite” Alfie mumbled.

“Enough of the pleasantries. What did you call us here for Tommy?” John snapped, impatience clear in his voice.

“Alfie? What is it you wanted to say?” Tommy smirked, raising an eyebrow as his eyes bore into your fiancé. Alfie coughed slightly, rummaging in his coat pocket for a few brief moments, before pulling out a few fragments of silver metal.

“The bullet, yeah, that fuckin’ went through (Y/N) …” Alfie swallowed hard, allowing your family to witness a rare show of nervousness, before he continued to talk. “Had my fuckin’ name on it”.            

Silence.            

The quiet chilled your exposed skin, as Alfies’ words settled and disappeared into the air. You knew what this had meant, the unspoken meaning deafeningly loud. Your family glanced around the room, their eyes anxiously refusing to meet your own. Their chairs creaked, as they nervously shifted in their seats, grasping their sweaty hands. This behaviour was unusual of a Shelby, who never let their façade of confidence slip. The only person who seemed unmoved at what Alfie had to say, was Tommy.           

 They knew something.

 “So, what you’re trying to say, is that our sister got shot…because of you?” Tommy jeered, his voice harshly shattering the silence.

 “No. Of course I fuckin’ ain’t. I was just tryin’ to say that- “Alfie began, furiously glaring at Tommy. 

“You were just trying to that you’re a fucking dangerous man, and our sister is not safe around you!” Tommy snapped, stubbing the cigarette out upon the table.            

 Angry voices began to rise, heated words thrown carelessly between the two men. Each word was intended to hurt the other, filled with poison and undeniable hate. They didn’t argue with their fists or weapons, but each word packed a powerful punch, bruising the other.             

Fists slammed down upon the table, violently bringing the confrontation to a sudden end. Your head spun to the source of the sound. Finn stood there, red faced and breathless, his chair fallen to the floor behind him.

“I heard what you told Aunt Pol” he spat, his fists beginning to tremble as he turned to glare at Tommy.

 “I know it was you that sent that bullet”.

*****************************************************************************************************

ALFIES POV            

Alfie was never one to get his hopes up, never was one to look forward to anything. Yet when he found you, you had changed all of that. Suddenly he had a reason to live, something to get excited about. You had made him want to be somebody different, to better himself. You had made him realise that there was a life outside of the harsh London streets, that there was something else other than violence and crime.          

  Life always had a cruel way of reminding Alfie who he was, solidifying his fear that he just didn’t deserve you. The bullet fragments had weighed down heavy in his pocket, constantly taunting him of his failure. He had been unsuccessful in protecting you, when truthfully, he should have been there. He should never have let you walk out of that front door alone, then perhaps the bullet would have hit him instead.          

  The intended target.            

Alfie had thought that revealing his findings to your family, stressing his concern about needing to protect you more, would have lifted a weight of your shoulders. He had assumed that this would have magically made everything okay. He couldn’t have been more wrong.            

 Alfie should never have underestimated Tommy Shelby, and that was the second mistake he had made. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had known that it was your brother who had sent the bullet. He had repressed the idea, refusing to allow himself to believe it. Your irresistible desire to see the best in everyone, had somewhat influenced him.          

   Tommys’ confession had changed everything. After Finn had outed him, the room had erupted into chaos. Alfie had watched as you stood up too quickly, tearing your stitches in the process. His heart had broken as he witnessed the tears spill down your cheeks, your skin paling you struggled to hide the agonising pain that you felt. He had stood back, as Polly led you out of the room.        

    He was a coward.          

  Alfie sat on the edge of your bed, his fingers playing with the edge of your blanket, the strands of material frayed around the border. The breeze coming from the open window, caused goose bumps to rise upon his exposed arms. His mind was a tornado of anxious plans, each one making less sense than the last. In the midst of it all, he knew what he had to do.            

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, a soft smile playing upon his lips as he watched you enter the room. You looked beautiful, hell you always had done. He would never understand how you could have possibly fallen for somebody like him. Tendrils of wet hair snaked down your shoulders, as you turned your back to him to open your closet.            

Alfies heart sank, as he watched you search for a dress to wear. He knew what your intentions where- to hide the scar that had formed upon your skin, shouting loudly to the world of your brother’s betrayal. He stood up slowly, watching you pull out a light blue dress, one that you had worn a few times already that week. He couldn’t help but notice the way your shoulders drooped, as your fingers caressed the material of the other dresses in your closet. He knew you longed to wear them again, to feel like a woman again.

“Ya’ know, I think ya’ look fuckin’ beautiful in whatever you wear” Alfie whispered, desperate to make you feel better. You turned to face him, suppressing the hint of a smile that began to twitch upon your lips, as you slid into the dress.             

Silence had been a common feature between you both, neither of you knowing what to say to the other. It fractured Alfies’ heart, each quiet second that dragged by, sending another sharp puncture through him. The air around you both was heavy with the words he wished he could say to you, anything to make this better. But he couldn’t.            

He had failed you.           

 You sighed softly, moving back towards the bedroom door. 

“Wait” Alfie mumbled, reaching out to gently grasp at your arm. “We need…we need to talk”.            

Alfie was aware that you knew what those four words meant, watching you slowly turn back around to face him. Your eyes gave everything away. That was something he loved about you, how you always openly expressed your feelings. Now the feature he adored, was slowly breaking his heart. Pools of tears begin to form in your (Y/C/E) eyes, droplets slowly spilling out onto your cheeks. Alfie longed to brush them away, to take back the words he was about to say, but he knew. He knew that he needed to do this, to protect you.

“I can’t do this anymore. Knowin’ that your family will forever fuckin’ hate me. Knowin’ that you fuckin’ got shot…because of me” the words spilled out of Alfies’ mouth, a torrent of excuses that he knew you would fight against.            

Your mouth opened slightly as you began to talk. Alfie shook his head softly, placing a finger upon your lips. He knew this would be the last time, that he was lucky enough to touch your soft skin. His mind frantically tried to come up with something, anything to make you let him leave. 

“I don’t love ya’” Alfie stated, trying his best to hide the truth from you. He watched as you stepped back, your face falling at the words he said. If he could take it all back, he would have done, but it was too late.            

He was doing this to protect you.            

Alfie made his way towards the door, pausing briefly as he placed his hand upon the door handle.

“(Y/N) …” he whispered, beginning to turn to face you.“

Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare” you murmured. 

Alfie pulled down upon the door handle, beginning to make his way out of the room, when he felt something sharp hit his back, clattering ominously against the floor. The fallen diamond ring glinted in the corner of his eye, symbolic of everything he had just let slip away. He swallowed hard, attempting to ignore the heartbroken sobs that began to tear through your body. He closed the door behind him, leaving the ring to lay sadly upon the wooden floorboards.

As Alfie made his way out of the house, the realisation of what he had just done began to sink in. He had left somebody, who had loved him endlessly, despite the countless amounts of flaws that he possessed. He had never expected to fall for you, yet he had found himself falling hard. He had left you out of fear, a cowardly action that he believed would protect you.

If Alfie had noticed the eyes that where watching him in the shadows, he would realise just how wrong he was.

[gothic-safari-clown]

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part 17: From Protector to Pathetic

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16

Word count: 1580

A/N: 👀😗 I hope you all like angsty cliches as much as I dooooo!

It seemed to Jonathan that Elianna had learned from her first experience with the fear toxin. While she still fell unconscious once it began to wear off, the effects didn't last as long, and in lieu of frightened screaming, she had managed to restrict herself to quieter sounds of terror.

Upon seeing his friend's distress diminish as her eyelids grew heavy, Jonathan unfastened the restraints and took the belt from her mouth. When he turned his attention back to her, he found that El had already curled in on her side; she would twitch every few seconds, each one accompanied by a soft whimper, whether from perceived pain or from fear he couldn't tell.

Even so, he once again felt pride well up in him as her body relaxed more and more. He was surprised to find that she was still barely lucid when he laid down and pulled the blankets over them. Magnet-like, she was suddenly tucked against him, seeking warmth. Once the shock by the speed of her movement wore off, he allowed himself a tiny smile and secured his arms around her as Scarecrow piped up with his usual assortment of vulgar persuasion; easily ignored at this point.

Elianna finally relaxed into a deep, exhausted sleep, the material of Jonathan's shirt bunched up in her hand.  He was very quickly growing reaccustomed to her unconscious insistence for closeness in her sleep. He found his fingertips skimming up and down her arm lightly as his thoughts returned to the execution of the attack on Gotham.

Admittedly, Elianna's insistent reminder of all that he had accomplished in the process took away much of the stress and replaced it with a sense of premature victory, which was very welcome in comparison. Jonathan found himself slipping into sleep more quickly than he had in a long time.

.xXx.

That didn't last for very long, however, as he was tugged back into semi-consciousness after a few short hours by El shifting uncomfortably in her sleep while muttering to herself. Jonathan blinked in the darkness (he had forgotten to turn on the bathroom light, damn), trying to bring her face into focus. He had only barely made out her furrowed brow and defiant frown when her voice began to raise, along with her poorly coordinated movements.

Jonathan had long been accustomed to soothing her back into sleep without waking her up when she had nightmares (which was concerningly often), but this one was clearly escalating faster than he could wake himself up.

That was, until whatever she was experiencing reached a crescendo, and she bolted upright, sucking in a deep, shuddering breath, followed by a short cry of torment. In an instant, Jonathan found himself next to her, his hand on her back. Instinctively, she leaned into the touch, pressing sideways into his chest with another anguished sob as her friend tried desperately to unscramble his tired brain.

This was troubling, to say the least. Generally speaking, El didn't really cry. Not like that, anyway. She hated to cry; she considered it a 'waste of energy,' in her own words. Even when she had occasion to, it was usually just a quiet tear or two and didn't hinder whatever else she may be doing.

But sitting there, listening to his friend actually sob in earnest, Jonathan found himself getting worried. Quietly shushing her (what the hell is that going to do, idiot?), he put a hand on the back of her head to hold her in place as she sucked in another shuddering breath.

"Breathe, El, breathe." She didn't respond, but she did make a second, slightly more successful attempt to take in a normal breath. "That's it; everything is fine." Jonathan cursed the brusqueness of his voice, still barely awake enough to even speak, let alone police his tone. "It's okay," he tried again—better.

Gradually, El's breathing evened out, but she continued to cling to Jonathan like a lifeline, trembling. Once again, he found himself disturbed by the extreme reaction; this was not normal.

Eventually, she sat back up, still shivering and with tear tracks just beginning to dry on her face, which bore no expression as she stared blankly forward at the opposite wall. Jonathan waited patiently for her to speak first; his hand had returned to her back, still uneasy.

However, he was comforted when she finally let out a frustrated sigh, disgusted by her own lack of control. "Round two nightmares are a bitch," she offered flimsily. Caught off guard, he couldn't help an amused scoff.

"Clearly."

"I can't remember the last time I cried like that, ugh," she wiped at her face, all fear replaced with frustration. "That was so annoying. I'm sorry." The apology was punctuated with an awkward half-laugh as she feigned confidence. It wasn't convincing, however, as she wouldn't look at him as she spoke. "Go back to sleep; I'm just going to get some water."

Jonathan considered joining El in the kitchen as she shambled in the direction of the kitchen, but he was just...so tired... Surely a moment to herself would do her some good anyway.

Once in the kitchen, Elianna flicked on the light and took a moment to brace herself against the counter as she scrambled to compose herself. What a stupid situation. She was no stranger to nightmares, having often been plagued by them for her entire life. So why was this one so different?

She knew why. Being in such proximity to Jonathan again had not only stirred up old worries but had given them new form as well. When he had first confessed to her his situation with Granny, many of her dreams had depicted her finding him dead somewhere, pecked to death by crows, or starved to death, or any other horrible possibility.

But their dynamic had shifted so much since they were teenagers. Whereas back then, she had been the protector, their roles had been reversed drastically, and as such, her Jonathan-fueled nightmare had borne a very different image.

Doing her best not to think about it, El finally filled a glass of water and drank it slowly.

In the meantime, Jonathan was facing a dawning realization of guilt. In all of the times that she had been woken by a nightmare when he was around, Elianna had never...snapped like that before. She had blamed it on the toxin, and maybe that was true to an extent, but he was sure that the impending attack on Gotham had played a larger part.

And the only reason she was even in the city was that he had selfishly orchestrated for her to be there. If he had just ignored the application on Warden Sharpe's desk, she was sure to still be in California, bored but safe. As such, he felt a sense of responsibility for her continued wellbeing, and to his mind, this episode made clear what a dismal job he was doing. She was even smoking again, for God's sake.

When she ambled back into the bedroom a few minutes later, Jonathan had resumed a horizontal position, one elbow covering his eyes. Thinking he had fallen back asleep and not wanting to wake him again, El crept back onto her side of the bed carefully.

It was just another nightmare. Just go back to sleep, she commanded herself, shaking off the remaining worry. Just another really intense, very real feeling, vivid, horrible nightmare, she thought grimly as she remembered flashes of what she had seen.

The city in chaos, fire, destruction, screaming, pain; Jonathan standing over her, watching as she begged for help ("please, don't leave me here, you promised!") before he walked off, leaving her alone, injured, and at the mercy of the panicked, violent citizens of what used to be Gotham...

A movement from the other side of the bed startled her out of her thoughts as she released her breath from her tight chest. Blinking through the darkness, she saw that the arm that had been previously thrown over Jonathan's face was now stretched out between them.

"Come on, you know you're going to end up over here anyway," came his tired voice by way of invitation. After a moment's hesitation, El obeyed and once again found herself tucked up against her friend's torso. "So, what happened?" Jonathan asked as his arm wrapped around her and felt a sharp intake of breath from the redhead.

"It doesn't matter." He waited patiently for her to elaborate. "I already know you wouldn't leave me behind." Oh. Almost subconsciously, he squeezed her tighter.

"No, I wouldn't." The finality in his tone did well to reassure El and quell the final remnants of her apprehension.

"No, of course not. Doesn't matter," she murmured to herself, holding him close.

"Doesn't matter," Jonathan repeated affirmatively, clearly drifting back to sleep judging by his voice, and El found herself at last in a similar state. She hummed a response and kissed his shoulder before the pair finally slipped back into slumber.

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Cursed G Pt 23 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh, Enkidu)

Previous Part: 1 - HakuPOV / GilPOV, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22

_____

She had most definitely bombed that test.

The sheer fact that she had seen a couple test answers on other people’s papers as she had turned hers in was enough of an indication on her testing. Either her classmates who normally did quite well had failed or…

Crap.

At this rate, it would be a miracle if she passed that course. Math was no her forte. It wasn’t even kind of her forte.

Looking at the two climbing into her car and attempting to buckle the clay being in, she supposed that it really could have been worse. She could have been out of her space and time. She could have been trying to understand a world of technologies and systems that were vastly beyond her understanding. Poor Enkidu had taken the whole day in stride.

Gilgamesh had pointed at things and had been stubborn.

Enkidu merely leaned back and listened. They smiled and they nodded at things, simply accepting that they didn’t know the language and somehow knowing enough to just be seen as a strange foreign person.

It was nice of them to be that easy.

“Hakuno?”

“I know. I was waiting for you both to be ready,” she told Gilgamesh, listening to him and Enkidu talking in the back of the car. It seemed they were talking about the wedding a bit more, discussing places in the area that would be suitable.

“I think you should have it somewhere with lots of nature around,” Enkidu told the man.

Gilgamesh laughed at his friend’s suggestion. “I had a feeling that you would be wanting such a thing. I found a place that has a lot of greenery that you can enjoy and feel at home around. The fool from before, Rin, was pointing out the place when she was talking to me the other day.”

The lights on the street were coming and going as she drove through it all, listening a bit as she went. Things were quiet for once, the traffic still calm before the students and adults were released from their usual 8 to 4 jobs.

She turned onto the next road, feeling a trickle of something hit her senses.

“Hakuno…”

There was something wrong.

She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she pulled over to the side of the road, looking around as she noted that something was happening and her instincts were running haywire.

Gilgamesh moved from the backseat, slipping into the front of the car and glancing behind them.

“You sense her too?”

“Why is Ishtar here?” Enkidu asked.

“She followed me,” Gilgamesh told the being. The king glanced back, looking carefully as they all did. All of them were finding nothing.

“Do you think-“

“She’s making herself very hard to locate,” Gilgamesh told her. “She’s going to make this whole process difficult for us.”

That she was.

Again, all she could think of was how bad of an idea it was to get married to the king. He needed to be sent straight home with his friend and return to his ruling over Uruk. He could change the Epic of Gilgamesh and manage to be the great king that he had started out as being.

“Continue to steer us home,” the king commanded.

Yeah…

Yeah, they needed to be inside her home once again. For some reason, Ishtar played by supernatural laws: she didn’t enter unless invited.

Hakuno cranked the car into drive and pulled back out into the street, noting that the happy wedding chatter was now gone as both Gil and Enkidu were looking around them as they drove. The silence began to fill the space and the math exam didn’t feel important any longer.

Hard to care about one letter someone wanted to give when one’s life was on the line.

They made it home in record time, but Hakuno found herself grabbing her bag and slipping from the car faster than ever. She clicked the car into lock as the other two followed her up to her home and walked in before her.

Enkidu was moving around the house as Gilgamesh grabbed her wrist.

“I need something for my headache,” she told him.

There would be one coming. She could feel it. Her stomach was complaining as well, saying that she was thinking too hard about this. The stress of that test as she had remembered it in class and the stress of knowing that Ishtar was lingering around her school and her home was not comforting. She still needed to go to work in a bit as well.

“Hakuno,” Gilgamesh started.

“Gil, please-“

He yanked her close, pressing her to the back of the front door. His hands were delving into her hair, rubbing at her scalp as he tilted his head and eyed her a moment before…

Hakuno couldn’t help it. She sunk into that embrace eagerly. Her hands tangled into his hair and her weight was surrendered to the door and his hold of her. She found herself closing her eyes and letting his lips take the lead.

He tasted sweet and he knew how to massage for a headache.

“Ishtar is not your problem,” the man murmured.

She almost had to laugh at that.

Not her problem? The goddess had cornered her at her car. She was showing up in her lunch area where she sat with her friends. The goddess knew where she lived. What was truly stopping her from coming into this house? What was protecting her from being in turmoil?

Ishtar could turn her into things far worse than a cat.

She could be turned into a bug to be squished under a foot.

She could be turned into a fly to have to live off of the discomfort of others.

She could-

“Stop,” the king’s voice murmured to her softly. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Looking at him wouldn’t protect her. It wouldn’t make her any safer.

Gods, now that she was thinking about this, it was actually starting to scare her. She loved Gil with every fiber of her being. That wasn’t something that she was concerned about. The man felt right when he was holding her and these fingers working through her hair, coaxing her headache to take a hike…

Wait.

I love Gilgamesh how much?

Hakuno opened her eyes, staring up at the man standing before her.

His lips pressed to her nose, her forehead; he pressed the smallest of affections to her face.

“She went back to Uruk for a bit,” Gilgamesh murmured. “That’s why she felt stronger. She can’t stay here and retain her power. That must be it. We’ll be fine, Hakuno.”

Hakuno stared at that face.

Her eyes were on the sharp features, the fair hair, and the intimidating expression. Her eyes trailed to his lips, pinkened a bit from pressing to her face and giving her affections. She could see his mouth moving, but…

A hand pressed to his chest without her thinking. She tightened her grip on his shirt and pulled him closer, keeping her gaze on his face.

I can’t go to work tonight.

The man glanced down between them, noting her hands holding him to her. The boyish surprise on his face, the blank and curious look…

When she had moved was a mystery, but there she was, moving a hand to his head and leaning up to kiss him. She was closing her eyes once again to enjoy the feeling of his kiss rather than the expression on his face.

“The house is empty,” Enkidu chirped nearby.

A pair of arms pulled her up from where she stood. The king held her close and carried her over to the couch.

“Enkidu,” he called.

They were on the other side of her almost immediately. Hakuno could feel their arms around her and pulling her close and Gilgamesh pulled wine from the gates and began to pour goblets for them all.

“We will enjoy the pleasure of one another and watch your plays for the evening.”

That sounded nice.

“I will call for your usual food,” he continued, “inform your people that you will not be attending to the library this evening. They must handle their archives on their own for the night.”

The phone was pulled from her pocket and set in her hand by the man before he was delving into her bag.

Gilgamesh knew how to turn her computer on.

He was humming a bit as he tried to remember the process for ordering food, impressing the being that leaned forward to watch him work on the machine.

Hakuno looked at her phone.

Why did it feel like calling in would only be the start to a direction she wouldn’t be able to back out of? Why did this feel like a moment of truth?

Flipping to contacts, she pressed the number for work and held the phone to her ear, closing her eyes and leaning into Enkidu.

She told them that her stomach was hurting and her head was aching. They had been hurting, although the feeling was going away. She listened to them wish her well and inform her that Rin had been by to tell them about her engagement and impending marriage.

“They said it was a blond,” Hans called from the other end of the line. “I hope you aren’t marrying that idiot who visited the library the other night!”

She bit her lip, quietly ending the call and setting her phone down to help Gil order their food.

They changed into comfortable clothes.

It was like one moment they were at the computer and the next she was returning to where the two were waiting. Gilgamesh was leaning back in all his jewelry and his loose lower robes. Enkidu was in a similar outfit, although they had let their hair hang loosely around their shoulders and were in the process of brushing through the green locks.

And she was walking to them in robes that Gilgamesh had given her.

They were more like a wrap dress than anything in her wardrobe. The belt at her waist barely held it shut. In fact, the moment she sat between the two, she could feel the front open up a bit.

Gilgamesh’s lips pressed to her neck and pulled her into his lap. Enkidu lay their upper body across her lap and sighed happily.

Was this the life that she would have in Uruk?

Pampered forever by the king and beloved by the king’s friend?

She pulled the brush from where it still remained in Enkidu’s hands and pulled the being closer, beginning to slowly run the thing through their hair. They turned that soft, flawless expression up to her; making her heart race.

She tilted her head a bit, feeling the king’s lips continue to trace along her skin.

When the door chimed, Enkidu moved, getting their food and turning on the television.

It turned into a strange caring for one another. Enkidu would offer bits of food to them. She would offer bits of food to the two Sumerians. Gilgamesh would insist that they drink what he had poured for them both. The room was warm and the nice, thin robes around her person was comfortable.

Her face was turned up at times, away from the direction of the television or of Enkidu. He would stroke her cheek and murmur for her to say again that she would stay at his side.

Was that his favorite thing to ask?

“Once more, Hakuno.”

“I am staying at your side, Gil.”

The being pulled her into their lap, delving their hands into her hair next and giving her time to breathe.

“Your world is fascinating,” they told her.

“I wish I was better with my classes,” she confessed, looking up at them. “I don’t think I did well on that test today.”

The being frowned.

“The math is confusing,” she informed the being.

“I’ll look at it when you both rest,” the being told her. “I think I could probably figure it out. I learned your language well enough! Although you speak our language so well.”

She did?

“You do,” the being insisted. She must have said what she had said aloud. She could feel her face flush a little as Gilgamesh lay atop her, wrapping his arms around her waist and watching more of what seemed to have become one of his favorite shows.

She was talking aloud what she was thinking. It was probably time to stop drinking.

“Hakuno?” Enkidu leaned over her, brushing her bangs from her face.

“What is it?”

“Doesn’t Gil remind you of a cat?”

Both she and Gil tensed up, with her staring up at the being.

“I wasn’t sure how to describe what Gil was like,” Enkidu continued. “I heard him purr this morning with you and I’ve noticed how he nuzzles and seeks to be in your space all the time. He’s acting just like one of his lions. It’s very cute.”

“Enkidu,” Gil growled.

She could feel the king’s hands balling into fists behind her back a little as the man continued to press against her chest with his person.

She had almost forgotten… but Enkidu had feigned being G. How would they do that if Gilgamesh hadn’t explained?

“Gil was turned into a cat for a time,” Hakuno told the being. “I found him when he was in his cat form and brought him home. He just recently was able to get his human form back.”

Enkidu blinked. “What’s this?”

“Gil was a cat until-“

“Hakuno is adept at a magic that is unwritten in our texts,” Gilgamesh informed the being, interrupting her and pressing his face against her chest a little more. “She was able to stop the malady that Ishtar had placed me under. We shall leave it at that.”

“So that is why the woman from yesterday had insisted on seeing a cat.” Enkidu snickered. “I bet Gilgamesh was as cuddly as he is now. Do you still talk to other cats despite being human, Gil? Does this mean you enjoy milk?”

Weren’t cats lactose intolerant?

Gilgamesh glared up at his friend, giving a low rumble.

He was looking up from under those bangs of his, forming a wrinkle on his brow as he glared at Enkidu in warning. She could see the way his eyes glinted a bit, the way he tried to make his expression as foreboding as possible.

“Gil,” she tugged at him to move up her person a bit more.

He turned that gaze to her, softening it a bit only for her to tug a couple more times.

“What is it?” He murmured.

“Gil,” she tugged once again.

The moment he moved to hover over her, she leaned up and kissed him.

The tension was gone. The great king was settling back in, delving that tongue of his into her mouth and doing that movement that left her breathless. He seemed to all but breathe in the air from her lungs, leaving her to pant and her heart to race. She could feel him laugh softly as he pulled back.

“I may have been the cat, but you are the smitten one, aren’t you?”

Those carmine eyes gleamed in pleasure.

“You are the one who looks at me like you’ve found more of those sweets you take such pleasure in. You look at me in a way that any man would falter on his feet at the sight of, Hakuno.”

She just felt his lips stop her from arguing, bringing out a soft moan from her. He laughed softly as he ran a hand along her chest, his jewelry tickling at her chest.

Enkidu laughed a little more, tightening their grip on her a little.

The warmth of the room and the company whom showed her such comforts and happiness probably had her settled in to the extent that she could say such things. She never would have considered saying such a thing otherwise. Gilgamesh was being so gentle. Enkidu was being so sweet.

“…I think I love you, Gilgamesh.”

The man loomed over her, his eyes widening at her words.

The being under her released her with a soft kiss to the top of the head. The soft, “ah” on their lips barely audible as she lay flushed underneath Gilgamesh.

The television may have been on full blast and she would have never noticed.

The man leaning over her had his lips curl up, his eyes gleamed in the low lights of the room to match the way his jewelry glinted.

“You think? Are you so unsure of yourself that you cannot confess properly, Hakuno?”

“I love when you purr against me,” she found herself saying. “I love when you join me in the shower and how you hold my hand in class. I love listening to you laugh and watching you argue and speak. Hearing you speak is better than a morning coffee and you make all my headaches go away the moment you work your hands through my hair.”

She did love him.

It felt good to say it.

The man had lived with her long enough for her to enjoy and want to keep him around. It was nice to have something other than the day to day routine to look forward to. Routines became dull and listless. The spontaneity of Gil’s presence in her life, even as a cat, had become something that gave her every day meaning.

He was being quiet right now though.

She pulled herself up against him and smiled at his surprised expression, leaning in close and pressing her lips to his again.

“I love you, Gil,” she purred. “I love everything you do.”

The man against her shivered. She could feel him pick her up, telling the being something as she pressed another kiss to his jawline, his neck; anywhere she could press her lips against.

They were back in her room, although he had made this space more to his own ends with more pillows and blankets. She found herself pressed back against the sheets, the man leaning over her.

“Say that again.”

“I love you,” she purred.

“Again.”

“I want to hear it back,” she argued.

The man turned beet red at her demand, his hands shaking as he held her to the bed and he trembled before her eyes.

She laughed softly at the foolish look on his face. “I even love when you are too shy to say it back, Gilgamesh.”

The warm room and the soft bed were enough.

Hakuno let herself go straight to sleep.

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC Genre: BTS Mafia!AU Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Smut, Slow Burn WC: 3,228 Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

AO3 | WP

Chapter 14: Seesaw

"So there’s an ambiguous continuation of passing on responsibilities, And we get so tired or if that we finally became parallel..."

“Hoseok-ah,” came Namjoon’s deep voice, “you have to calm down, alright? You need to calm down.”

Hoseok rounded on him in the middle of his pacing. His dark hair flew in every direction across his forehead and the tails to his suit jacket lifted off his back. Namjoon felt his spine grow rigid. He could see his reflection in Hoseok’s dark eyes, spidery red veins stretching to caress his irises. Namjoon watched as Hoseok’s chest rose up and down, showcasing how heavy his breathing was in that moment.

The two men said nothing. All they could do was stare directly into each other’s eyes. Namjoon felt a lump rising in his throat while Hoseok’s brow twitched from his fury. It wasn’t until he saw his friend’s upper lip curling into a snarl that he snapped out of the fugue state he’d momentarily found himself in. It was like his soul departed his body in those few short seconds and Namjoon forgot who he was.

He’d almost forgotten who the man standing in front of him was.

Sighing, he took another breath and then rested his hands on Hoseok’s shoulders. He felt the muscles jump under his palms and Namjoon curled his fingers into the fabric of his jacket for good measure. When he finally felt Hoseok’s shoulders relax did he, too, relax his grip.

“Hyung-nim,” he stressed, which caused Hoseok to blink in surprise. He could see the blind rage bleeding out from his eyes. “We have to wait here. I’ve already got the boys on it. If something happened, we would have heard about it.”

He watched Hoseok’s face and saw his mind racing behind his eyes. After a handful of seconds, he closed his eyes. When Namjoon believed he’d sufficiently calmed down, he saw the quick movement out of the corner of his eye. Hoseok turned and swung his right arm up, knocking Namjoon’s arms away from him. He turned his back to him and all Namjoon could do was bite his lower lip as his brows knit both with concern and frustration.

Then the phone rang.

Hoseok crossed the short distance toward his desk, not bothering to go to the other side. He answered it from the front, practically ripping it from the wiring. An ache formed in Namjoon’s chest as he watched his friend struggling to dampen his anger.

“This is Jung Hoseok.”

There was a pause as the other spoke from the other line. However, when Namjoon saw the angry vein pulsating near Hoseok’s throat, he knew something was very wrong. Hoseok’s eyes grew large before slowly narrowing to tiny slits.

“What horse shit are you babbling on about right now, Changkyun-ah?”

Namjoon took a step toward Hoseok, his heartbeat hammering across his entire body. Hoseok held his hand up, shaking his head back and forth – his silent command for him to be quiet. Namjoon remained rooted to his spot and he could only watch as Hoseok’s angry face twisted into a dark smile.

“While I’m aware that one of my boys messed up, I don’t see how that has anything to do with her. She and I aren’t together anymore. I made that crystal fucking clear to all the bosses. She’s a free woman and can come and go where she pleases. So can her friends.”

There was a loud laugh that came from the other line, loud enough for even Namjoon to hear. However, Hoseok’s smile didn’t fall. It remained dark and terrifying. But Namjoon didn’t miss how his friend’s knuckles burned white from how hard he was holding the phone. He could swear that the plastic on the receiver cracked from the pressure.

“Changkyun-ah,” Hoseok said slowly, “I know you haven’t been to the meetings these days, but you should know how serious of an offense I take to threats to my territory. I know you’re the same. Taehyung will be punished for the trouble he caused, but leave her out of future conversations. How she chooses to spend her time is her own business. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.” He paused and Namjoon’s own hands curled into fists at his side. “So, if you’re planning on using her as some kind of leverage against me, that time has long since passed, Im Changkyun.”

A napalm of anger went off across Namjoon’s chest. He knew that things had been far too quiet over in the Jung District. Word on the streets was that the Jade Fangs were eyeballing a few key territories to claim as their own. Like a cancer, they were spreading and infecting everything around them. The disease? Fear. They didn’t play fair and they played for keeps. Always. It was the main reason why Hoseok stressed so many years ago, just at the end of all the gang wars, that he wanted to keep any and all business ventures as far away from their reach as it could be made possible.

But even Namjoon didn’t think they would stoop so low as to reach for Hoseok’s neck through Raelyn Noona.

Hoseok’s eyes closed and he turned his back to Namjoon. His hand slid across the surface of his desk and he saw Hoseok’s shoulders tilt at a slight angle.

“We’re both very busy men, Changkyun-ah. If you want to discuss terms for a deal, it will have to be through my second, Kim Namjoon.” There was another pause. “Alright, he’ll meet with your second first thing tomorrow morning. Goodnight.”

Another long stretch of silence loomed throughout the room as Hoseok hung up the phone. Namjoon couldn’t help but remain silent. The brother and best friend in him wanted to soothe the rage that was clearly bubbling over the surface of Hoseok’s aura. The obedient subordinate knew his place, maintaining his stance with his hands clasped in front of him. He knew that the upheaval of emotions, the rocky rollercoaster they were currently on, was far from over.

Hoseok…

No sooner had his friend’s name echoed in his mind, Namjoon saw Hoseok move. His arms swung out, sweeping across the desk and knocking everything onto the floor. He leaned over, picking up the phone and threw it across the room like a professional baseball pitcher with a roar. It sailed across the room and smashed into the wall, landing pathetically on the floor – as though it knew that it was experiencing its last moments in the world.

Hoseok screamed – his face exploding into blotchy patches of red as he raged in his office. Namjoon watched silently; praying that his presence was enough to settle the tumultuous fury rupturing in his friend. But he knew that it would be a fallacy if this image of Hoseok, this display, didn’t hurt Namjoon. It broke something inside of him and years of pride shattered. All that was left was the lingering guilt that echoed inside of him.

Could all of this have been avoided had they remained back in their country home of Hwaseong?

Hoseok finally fell to his knees, his screams fading to silence before he leaned forward and began punching the ground. Over and over he crashed his knuckles into the stone floor until splatters of blood decorated the slate surface. Namjoon rushed to his side, grasping onto Hoseok’s wrist hard in his hand. He tried to resist him but after a few minutes, it was like watching a wild animal succumbing to the pain of being caught in the hunter’s trap.

He felt the tension in Hoseok’s body melt away. Namjoon knew better than anyone how much he still cared for Raelyn. He also understood why Raelyn ended things. This wasn’t the sort of life that he wanted to drag anyone into unless he trusted they would go down swinging with them. They would jump into the fire and burn to death together. A non-suspect civilian, especially one who worked in the medical field, didn’t need to have a reason to entangle themselves with their dark and dirty little world.

But the heart wants what the heart wants. Hoseok wanted Raelyn and she wanted him. She took to their life like a duck takes to water. Maybe it was because of her past, what little Hoseok told them about it, but Raelyn was more than capable of handling herself. She was suited to be the mafia boss’s girlfriend.

Freedom, however, was something that most people took for granted. Hoseok did everything he could back then to make her happy. He would have plucked the moon out of the sky and hung it from her neck if she’d asked for it. But their lives were crazy in those days. They were always fighting to survive and they were fighting for a way of life. There was still so much time before things would begin stabilizing. In those days, Hoseok personally took part in the turf wars that exploded across the streets of Seoul.

Things were different now. They were getting better, but there was still so much at stake.

Namjoon felt Hoseok’s head fall against his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. His sandalwood hair fell across his nose as he tried to look at his friend. But all he could see was the shadow of his eyes, the rest hidden by his dark fringe.

“Namjoon-ah,” Hoseok muttered, his voice hoarse from his earlier episode, “how much longer do we have to keep doing this?”

His brows furrowed and he clenched his jaw tightly, the soft ache of the muscle near his molars twitching with life. “Not much longer, my friend.”

He wrapped his arms around Hoseok’s shoulder, bringing him closer so that he could rest a little longer. He patted his back in comfort, hoping to reassure him that this was going to be a thing of the past soon.

“We’re almost there. I promise you.”

Incheon – Muchuhol; Namdong District South Korea

The Incheon Metropolitan City Muchuhol Library was usually quiet in the early mornings. Students were on their way to their classes and all the other patrons in the library were simply finding a quiet place to isolate themselves from the rest of the world. Ambitious writers came to do research and there were even a few professors who were expanding their light reading in the library.

Nestled toward the back of the library, Namjoon’s fingers perused a variety of philosophical texts written by some of the greatest scholarly minds the world has ever known. He’d dabbled in a few studies himself, hoping to utilize the texts given by other intellectuals to help guide him on his path to be a successful assistant and right hand to Hoseok. Most of his actions stemmed from experience and he rarely responded with impulse. The quiet voices of reason were the roles that Seokjin and he played. It was the best way for them to work without hiccups while Hoseok focused on leading them.

Reaching for one of Karl Marx’s books, he flipped to the center where his description of capitalism; how the very existence of it would crumble due to the necessity of society having to struggle in order to evolve. Holding the book open with one hand, his thumb flipped a couple of pages as his other hand slid into the pocket of his dress pants.

Suddenly, he could feel someone to his back. Raising the book up to his face, hiding half of his face as his eyes slowly shifted to the side. The other person’s broad shoulders barely brushed against Namjoon’s back. No one said anything. It was quiet, save for the ambient noise of others milling about near the front of the library.

And then the person huffed softly.

“It’s been awhile, Namjoon-ah.”

“It has, Shownu Hyung,” he replied softly.

Kim Namjoon was there to meet with Sohn Shownu, the Bear of the Jade Fangs.

The two remained back to back. He felt Shownu shift behind him, presumably to grab one of the books. They completely blocked off the aisle they were on, but since they were near the back of the library, they knew they could talk quietly and away from the prying eyes of others.

“Couldn’t your boss have picked a closer place to meet than this?”

“Changkyun’s always been fickle.” Namjoon could hear the smile on Shownu’s face. “Incheon’s neutral territory for both of our groups. This was the best option.”

Namjoon smirked, brushing his thumb over the lower swell of his lip before flipping the page. “I suppose.” He glossed over the pages, not really reading what was written. “Taehyung-ah messed up. We acknowledge that.” He paused before turning another page. “He’ll be punished.”

“Have you decided on how you’re going to go about it?”

“Not yet.”

“Need some ideas?”

“No, that’s not necessary.”

He heard Shownu turn a page behind him.

“You guys acquired Yongsan recently.”

It was a statement of fact, not a question.

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, we did two years ago.”

“So, Gangnam and now Yongsan.” Another page was turned. “A little gutsy, don’t you think?”

“Not as gutsy as your group.” Namjoon craned his neck slightly so he could glance over his shoulder at Shownu. “You snatched up Mapo in the last year.”

He saw Shownu shrug. “Again, Changkyun is fickle.”

“He hasn’t been attending the district meetings either.”

“I’ve tried to get him to listen to reason. He has his own ambitions. There’s little that any of us can do to stop him.”

Namjoon slapped the book closed. “Then try harder.”

The two men slowly turned in the aisle, standing shoulder to shoulder with one another. Shownu was just a little taller than Namjoon, but not by much. Their dark eyes bore into each other and nothing was said between them. After a moment, Shownu’s brows rose as his full lips formed into a smirk.

“About Raelyn Briggs,” he said, causing Namjoon’s eyes to narrow a margin, “Changkyun wanted to let you know that she doesn’t have to worry about coming into our turf. She’s not involved with your organization anymore, so she has no reason to continue looking over her shoulder.”

Namjoon wanted to feel relieved, but the tension in his neck wouldn’t let up.

“We can’t guarantee anything if she decides to mix herself up with your group again.”

Both moved at the same time; their bodies turning to face each other as their arms shot out to grasp at the other’s wrist. Namjoon’s fingers dug into Shownu’s forearm and the older man did the same. Their expressions were completely unreadable and they each held a book in their other hand. To any person passing by, it would have looked like a promise was made between two brothers.

The truth? They’d neutralized each other’s assault. It was hard to determine who’d struck first.

“And her friend?”

“Well, I’m afraid it’s a little too late for her the minute she decides to cross the line.” Shownu tilted his head slightly. “She’s feisty, that Eden girl. It’s almost a shame that she lives in Gangnam. Do you think she’d consider relocating?”

Namjoon did a little digging on Eden McGee. Some wads of money thrown here and there, as well as cashing in a few favors, and it was easy to dredge up enough information on her for it to matter. After reading over her permanent record, the answer to that question was easy to give.

“Don’t count on it.”

The two men released each other immediately. They straightened their shoulders and, without taking their eyes from each other, replaced their books back onto the shelves. Shownu slipped his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels and Namjoon worked on buttoning up his jacket.

“When things calm down, we should get a drink sometime,” offered Shownu, “do a little catching up.”

“Sure,” Namjoon replied easily, “when things have settled down a bit.”

He started to move, heading down the aisle so he could mix himself into the throng of other patrons of the library.

“Is it true?”

Shownu’s voice stopped him just as he reached the end of the aisle. He looked over his shoulder toward The Bear as he took a few steps forward.

“Is what true?”

“Rumor around is that you guys are trying to go straight?” Shownu brushed some of his hair out of his eyes. “Is it true?”

Namjoon smirked. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” He gave him a two fingered salute. “See you around, Shownu Hyung.”

And without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the library’s main entrance. He didn’t let his expression change until he was outside and standing on the sidewalk. Sliding up the sleeve of his jacket, he spied the time and clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. He was running behind.

Pulling his car keys out, he hit the button on the key fob and the lights to his car flickered to life as the doors unlocked. Nestling into the Audi, he cranked the car and the engine roared to life. He set his phone on the dash mount and went through his favorites on his contact list to dial Yoongi’s cell.

“Namjoon-ah, everything alright?” His gruff voice came through the speaker.

“Yeah, I’m about to head back now. Did I wake you up?”

“No, I’m just jetlagged. I’ll be fine after a shower.”

Namjoon pulled his car out onto the main street, making his way toward the highway. “Seokjin Hyung is still in Busan with Anastasia. They won’t be back until tomorrow. When are you flying back?”

“I’ll be back on Thursday. I had to push things back because of what happened.”

He hummed his response.

“…how’s Hoseok-ah?”

Namjoon sighed. “I’m worried about him, Hyung. But I think the Jade Fangs will keep their distance from Raelyn Noona from now on.” He reached up to scratch at his temple. “We’ll have to punish Taehyung-ah.”

“As he should be.”

“I’ll have Jimin handle it.”

He heard Yoongi shifting around on the other end.

“You don’t think that Hoseok should be the one to punish him?”

“Do you want Jungkook to handle it instead?”

There was a pregnant pause before he heard Yoongi’s sigh from the speaker.

“No, let Jimin take care of it.”

With as angry as Hoseok was, there was a good chance that Taehyung would wind up with something broken. Or worse. It was better if Jimin handled it. He knew how to dole out punishment fairly and had the restraint not to cross any lines.

“Alright. I’ll let Jimin and Hoseok know. Have a good trip.”

“Yeah, and you get off the phone. You’re driving so you’re supposed to be paying attention to the road.”

Namjoon smirked. “I will. Bye, Hyung.”

“Later.”

When the call ended, Namjoon’s face hardened. Just when things were starting to look up, they had the rug pulled out from them. He’d been keeping his ears to the ground and was shocked to hear that the Jade Fangs acquired Mapo. The most disturbing thing was that it didn’t look like Changkyun was showing any signs of stopping.

One by one, he had his eyes set on other districts.

“Is it going to come down to that? Again?”

He hoped not. He truly hoped not.

Because who knew what the result would be if another gang war managed to break out? 

[aswithasunbeam]

Post-”Hamilton” thoughts...

I jotted down some reactions and moments that jumped out at me when I had the chance to see the musical again last week (so amazing!!), and I wanted to share them with you all. I hadn’t seen it since 2016, and I went into it completely cold last time, so seeing it again was definitely a different experience!

1. Seeing the play in Virginia rather than New York was really interesting. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but Virginia plays a pretty significant role in “Hamilton.” Jefferson’s line “Virginia my home sweet home I want to give you a kiss” and Washington’s “I’m from Virginia so watch your mouth” both got huge applause in the Richmond theater. Even the cast at the end of the show noted that they were surprised by the ownership Virginia audiences took over Washington, Jefferson and Madison.

2. Hamilton (Deejay Young) and Eliza (Zoe Jensen) both did silly little dances during “Helpless” right before the wedding. Hamilton actually flossed for a couple seconds :D

3. Eliza and Peggy (Olivia Puckett) had the cutest relationship, and the two of them huddled together giggling over Hamilton’s letters during “Helpless” and “Satisfied” was absolutely adorable!

4. Dear God, “Satisified” is an amazing number! (It was before, too, but damn!) Angelica (Stephanie Umoh) sang the hell out of it.

5. Hamilton pulled away after Eliza sang “I relish being your wife” in “That would be enough,” which was a really interesting choice. It was like he couldn’t bear to hear her say that, and her pursuing him back to the bench after that really made the whole thing feel like she was just desperately trying to convince him that he really was enough for her.

6. Washington (Paul Oakley Stovall) was such a commanding presence on stage, and also was SO much taller than Hamilton, which made me chuckle. Very historically accurate. (Also, his “One Last Time” nearly brought down the house - so great!)

7. The Laurens Interlude still makes me choke up.

8. Philip (Jon Viktor Corpuz) held his hands up in triumph as he ran upstairs after his rap performance in “Take a Break” - so adorable!

9. Hamilton’s cute little “hi” when Angelica hugs him in “Take a Break” made me grin.

10. Also in “Take a Break” Angelica tried to follow Hamilton into his office to keep trying to convince him to go upstate with them. Eliza caught her by the arm and shook her head. It was a small moment, but it really established the intimacy between Eliza and Hamilton. She understood he was stressed and upset, and needed space. (It also made “Say No To This” so much worse.)

10. Maria hitting that note in “Say No To This” still made my jaw drop.

11. Need I even mention “Room”? Burr (Josh Tower) rocked it. Watching him run around the outside of the circle of light marking the room while Hamilton, Jefferson (Bryson Bruce) and Madison (Tyler Belo) talked felt so desperate and perfect. You could actually see him losing his mind.

12. The absolute raw pain of Eliza’s scream after Philip dies gets me every time. When she yanks her hand away from Hamilton, it feels like a punch to the gut.

13. Hamilton made this guttural sound after Eliza took his hand in “It’s Quiet Uptown” - it was like you could hear him choking on a sob right before he broke down.

14. Eliza loving on Hamilton during “Best of Wives” - so sweet and painful all at the same time.

15. I had a thought about the staging of “One Last Time” after seeing the play again: Eliza is present for some of it, but I really wish she were sitting with Hamilton when the quote from the “Farewell Address” starts. Eliza is literally the reason we know Hamilton wrote those words. Rufus King attempted to bury the drafts that proved Hamilton had written it, and Eliza had to bring a lawsuit to try to get the letters back. She also wrote a statement attesting to the fact that she had been in the room with him while he was writing the address. As amazing as it is hitting on the theme of Eliza being the one to carry the story with her, I wish the staging of the scene gave more of a nod to her important contribution. Had she not been listening in the room while he wrote, we would never have known about the extent of Hamilton’s contribution, and “One Last Time” wouldn’t exist.

16. And I am now utterly obsessed with the musical again!